Alexander McEvoy
Bio
Writing has been a hobby of mine for years, so I'm just thrilled to be here! As for me, I love writing, dogs, and travel (only 1 continent left! Australia-.-)
"The man of many series" - Donna Fox
I hope you enjoy my madness
AI is not real art!
Achievements (6)
Stories (248)
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Loop. Top Story - June 2024.
Her eyes crept slowly open, registering the brilliance of the sunlight without really processing what it meant. Rolling over, her hand crept towards the nightstand while her brain was trapped between wanting to get up and wanting to fall back asleep.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Fiction
Descent: Part Nine. Content Warning.
Around us, the inky darkness muttered. Grinding choking sounds, like sharp stones being scrapped across glass, crept out of the shadows beyond the flare of my flashlight to wrap around my brain. I knew what the beasts looked like now, their grey-scaled, almost human faces surrounded me in my mind’s eye, growing steadily closer, clawed, webbed hands grasped at me.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Chapters
Fleeting
Soaring above me, the mountains were truly breath-taking. I've lost count of the number of hours I've spent simply staring at them despite my short time in that country. To one side, our driver shared a story about the construction of the mountain road, and behind me two friends are laughing.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Wander
Descent: Part Eight. Content Warning.
Blackish-green fluid that matched most of the blobs on Mary, was spattered in broad arcs out from the broken bodies of monsters. Like the pillar in the main entrance to the whole temple, they seemed to avoid being looked at. The scales that covered their whole bodies formed in looping, undulating patterns that almost hurt to follow.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Chapters
Quoth. Top Story - May 2024.
Unnoticed, the clock struck into the next day. Before my eyes, as midnight came and went, the words on the pages over which I poured blurred together. Meaningless under my over-tired gaze, they looped around themselves, slowly winding lines of text twisting themselves into knots as I watched, barely awake enough to do more than notice the change.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Fiction
Descent: Part Seven. Content Warning.
Mary pressed tighter against me, I could feel the ragged staccato of her breathing as we stared into the perfect darkness. Straining my eyes, I tried desperately to see anything; going truly blind has always been a massive fear for me, and now, I fought down a rising scream.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Chapters
Descent: Part Six. Content Warning.
The discarded cane that I still held was so heavy as I stared at the fires that ringed the room. Around me, the other Saint Martha’s students muttered to each other, questioning where exactly they were and what all this had to do with the assignments. A few even asked what the assignments were, causing a ripple of quiet, near-panicked questions as they tried to figure out what we were even doing in the temple.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Chapters
Aurora. Content Warning.
Stars glittered across the moonless sky. Millions of brilliant points of light, more than Yusuke had had ever seen before. He marvelled at them, despite often having gazed at the night sky before, mesmerized by them. It had always been a dream, one that he had come to share with its original dreamer, to be in that place and see the stars in their seemingly infinite multitude.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Fiction
Descent Part Five. Content Warning.
Always just ahead of me, always just passing around another bend in the tunnel, I could see a red Saint Martha’s blazer. Even though I urged Mary to hurry, which seemed to amuse her, we never caught up with the flash of red just ahead of us.
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Chapters
Fragile. Top Story - September 2024.
Fragile is the glass-craft heart. So easily shattered upon the ceaseless sands of broken dreams. In your hand you once did hold, a power most obscene. And yet you did, with knowing force, upon the ground it shatter. Did not you once think, in your wildest revery, that your own dear self might be cut?
By Alexander McEvoy2 years ago in Poets
