Deanna Cassidy
Bio
(she/her) This establishment is open to wanderers, witches, harpies, heroes, merfolk, muses, barbarians, bards, gargoyles, gods, aces, and adventurers. TERFs go home.
Achievements (7)
Stories (75)
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Primal Appetite. Runner-Up in 500 Word Shockwave Challenge.
The jungle's daytime cacophony, mostly birds and mammals, gives way to its nighttime cacophony, mostly amphibians and insects. Every scent stimulates me. I breathe cloying flowers, sour fruit, and the overripe odors of countless things thriving on the corpses of countless other things.
By Deanna Cassidy10 months ago in Fiction
To A Dear Friend From School. Runner-Up in Love Letters Through Time Challenge.
Dearest Lucy, I’m certainly pleased to hear that Sir Edmund and Lady Jane have been treating you well. I do hope your favorable assessment of your pupil's temperament withstands the holidays. Mr. M. assures me that his niece Rosie, who appears constantly cheerful and good-natured, behaves like an absolute beast when her brothers and sisters are home from school. What monkey tricks will your “angelic Maria” enact when the elder Misses Esterfold are in residence? As I have no younger brothers or sisters of my own, I cannot guess.
By Deanna Cassidy11 months ago in History
Babies or Beheading
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. Halfa Elizadelaine Tommward, Queen of Branham, Archduchess of the Blessed Mangroves and Protector of the King’s Raccoons, spent a significant amount of that morning ankle-deep in shit. Her feet had sunk into muck up to the ankles. This odorous glue helped her maintain her place in line as the swift current of knee-high sewage battered her legs.
By Deanna Cassidyabout a year ago in Fiction
Interview for a Vampire’s Assistant
Sasha pressed generic discount lotion into a paper napkin from the buffet. She swiped it over her face, carefully removing most of her thick stage makeup. A blonde dancer, new to Vegas and winding down from the same shift, shared the mirror.
By Deanna Cassidy2 years ago in Fiction
The Memory Magician of Kestrel Keep
“I slip inside the grieving mother's mind,” I chant, circling a walnut-sized chunk of Amazonite over the weeping woman's forehead. “I quest within her depths until I find her demons of despair, and then unwind their greedy grip. Within this stone, I bind her source of pain. Her chakras are aligned.”
By Deanna Cassidy2 years ago in Fiction
priDEMONth
I was out running errands when the Black Sack descended over my head. Panic filled my lungs instead of air. Strong hands--two pairs? Three?--zip tied my wrists together behind my back. They frisked me and removed both of my self defense arms. I bellowed for help. How could this happen, on a public street, in full daylight?
By Deanna Cassidy3 years ago in Fiction
Tour Guide to Tartarus
The alarm clock repeated its digital scream at full volume until Eurydice dug it out of its hiding space under her shoe rack and slammed the button on top. Red numbers on the front told her it was 5:42 in the morning. Or rather, that's what time it would be, if Tartarus had such things "mornings" and "the passage of time." Eurydice put the alarm clock down and it started blaring again. She pressed the button to silence it, turned on the weak light bulb in her cell, and examined the alarm clock more closely.
By Deanna Cassidy3 years ago in Fiction
Powdered Sugar and Intragalactic Relations
“Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.” The words tumble out of a face that’s suddenly too close to mine, along with the tang of Double IPA breath. “That’s where I’m headed.” The intrusive young man looks up at the ceiling, pointing a poorly shaved chin in my direction. “Up there.” Bright blue eyes come back to me, again too close for comfort. “Into the unknown.”
By Deanna Cassidy3 years ago in Fiction
