Marty Res

Joined November 2021

14 stories

Bio

"We all live on borrowed time, which is what gives our lives meaning. To waste life would be a travesty."

Writing poetry and fantastical stories is my way of coping with the world. It's my hope others may enjoy them, to escape for a while.

Stories (14)

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There Are No Miracles
Widow of five years, Arrives home - front door ajar, It's his face - voice wrong...
By Marty Res3 months ago in Poets
The Declaration of an Open Heart
I’ll try my hand, if I may, As love and elation is in the air today, At summing up the beaming in my heart, Hoping these words, from your mind, will never part.
By Marty Res8 months ago in Poets
Last Son of Ironhorn [ch.3]. Content Warning.
Balor was awoken by the beginnings of a dense downpour, the type common to the region in the late summer months. The dense canopy of the Jotunn Forest shielded them from much of the rainfall, but even so the needles of the pines could only hold back so much. Luckily enough, the foreboding hill giant bones that made up Gallows Grove were large enough to shelter under. Balor had everyone move under a massive ribcage jutting out of the ground like an overturned hull, the rib bones shielding them from the worst of the rain.
By Marty Res10 months ago in Fiction
Last Son of Ironhorn [ch.2]. Content Warning.
They had found Agnes in the morning, hanging by her hands from a dead plum tree near the inn. She had been stabbed in so many places that Balor had thought her nightgown had been wine red until he saw the torn white sleeves. Her eyes, devoid of all their fire, looked down on him as she hung. In death, her pale face admonished him for abandoning her, and the red smile that opened from her neck mocked him further.
By Marty Res12 months ago in Fiction
Last Son of Ironhorn [ch.1]
The common hall of the inn was alive with jubilation as patrons danced around their tables to the beat of the drums. Marilda and her minstrel troupe sat on the dais in the corner of the hall, blending the drumming with the melodic tones of their horns, lutes, and the seamless lyrics of the woman’s honeyed voice. The musicians had only arrived the night before, and already greatly uplifted the otherwise dour mood of the Inn of the Hill Giant. Stranger danced arm in arm with stranger. Men and women who had only known each other in quiet passing held each other in laughter like old friends and new lovers, the tune melting away their woes and apprehensions.
By Marty Resabout a year ago in Fiction
The Eidolon
The sound of gunfire filled the ashen sky as Lucas ran through the smoking desert landscape. A mountainous valley left ruined by war; a kill zone. Mortar craters peppered the ground and missiles lit up the dawn. His chest tightened as he struggled to steady his breathing.
By Marty Res2 years ago in Fiction
The Eidolon. Top Story - May 2024. Content Warning.
The rain pattered on the sidewalk in a steady drizzle, pooling below the curb. The veiled mist of night obscured the way ahead, only being pierced by the high beams of the occasional passing car.
By Marty Res2 years ago in Fiction
Fighting for the Light
Darkness gathers and Daylight fades, Through the dark aether she wades, While out of presence, mind, and sight, She leaves us in that silent night,
By Marty Res3 years ago in Poets
A Worldview
The state of affairs in the world is bleak, Entropy and chaos reign supreme, The strong succeed and prey on the weak, Or at least, that is how things may seem,
By Marty Res3 years ago in Poets
The Sonorant
The sound of shattering ceramic filled the air as the waitress stumbled, dropping her carrying tray and sending broken dishes and silverware clattering across the floor. Despite watching her the whole time, Will was still startled by the crashing sound. He himself jumped in surprise, slamming his hand onto the counter, which sent his fork flying into the mess on the floor. The waitress gave him a death stare, as if she thought he had done it on purpose.
By Marty Res4 years ago in Fiction
Between The Stars Epilogue
The klaxons wailed on into the night like the screams of a thousand men, a pulsing green light peering through the windows as the base arose into action. Agent Gallagher hadn’t even made it to the parking lot before the alarms went off.
By Marty Res4 years ago in Fiction
The Cradle
The planet Earth mostly a sea, A treacherous environment for one to be, Many things unknown lurk below, Threats waiting to deal you in low,
By Marty Res4 years ago in Poets

Marty Res

Bio

Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(14)

Filter by community

There Are No Miracles

The Declaration of an Open Heart

Last Son of Ironhorn [ch.3]. Content Warning.

Last Son of Ironhorn [ch.2]. Content Warning.

Last Son of Ironhorn [ch.1]

The Eidolon

The Eidolon. Top Story - May 2024. Content Warning.

Fighting for the Light

A Worldview

The Sonorant

Between The Stars Epilogue

The Cradle

Stories (14)