Katlyn Seward
Stories (3)
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The Mortuary
"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window." John Shummer started in a hushed husky voice. He was leaning forward on a log. His stomach pulling on the tight flannel around his protruding gut. His beard thick and wiry looked like copper in the light of the fire. His eyes glistened in the dancing light of the campfire. Henry, Jessica, and Timothy Shummer huddled together on the other side of the fire. One large, quilted blanket wrapped around their tiny shoulders combined them into one mass of vibrating child.
By Katlyn Seward4 years ago in Fiction
The Fringe
There weren't always dragons in the Valley, so to speak, the creatures currently rampaging through L.A could be called dragons. Their skin was rough and scaled. Massive black wings beat the air around them. Small explosions igniting around their bodies. They trailed down the middle of the town toward the city. Expansive fires engulfing the wreckage in their path. I watched from the shed out back. The bottle of pills in my blackened, lanced hands. I plopped down hard on the ground and fished out a single white pill. The scratched-out label on the side said doxycycline. The pill between my fingers had a very different efficaciousness. I put the pill back in the container and walked back into the shed. One last project before the end comes. I plucked out the small leather notebook. This will be the contents of how the end came to be.
By Katlyn Seward4 years ago in Fiction
Beneath
The dark cave walls press in. A sense of urgency mounted. Deep into the pit of the cave a large dark shadow slowly moved forward. Large claws extended at the end of lanky limbs. The smell of rotting flesh pungent in the air. A pulsing blue light illuminated the creature for just a moment. Where skin should have been, small dark balls lumped together. A silhouette of a hollow skull stared into the cave. A small figure dashed in front of the vestige as the claw swung downward. Elva Bolted upright. Her skin damp with precipitation. A scream danced on her tongue. In the darkness the nightmare faded, and sleep came slowly.
By Katlyn Seward5 years ago in Fiction
