MC Wills

Joined June 2021

6 stories

Bio

Once upon a time I was a scientist. One day I realised I was a fraud, and that I was really a writer dressed up in a white lab coat.

Stories (6)

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The World Within
The sky brightened slightly before they came. I didn’t notice; I was playing the latest online game. Like the little green men from Mars,
By MC Wills2 years ago in Poets
Fifty Years Between Books
It was destiny that created my first book. Had I not been the oldest child, of the oldest child, of the oldest child, I wouldn’t have been sitting on the floor with my aunty and uncle’s as they covered their school books.
By MC Wills2 years ago in Writers
A Perfect Family
‘I caught one!’ It dropped, or rather it slid, into the ice cream container with the others. Soon I wasn’t sure which one it was. ‘What are they again?’
By MC Wills2 years ago in Chapters
Dog Lost
The full moon cast shards of light that cut through the weakest parts of the canopy. They are as razor-sharp as the piercing air that burns his lungs on every breath. As he watches the vapour escape his mouth there is a flicker of warmth from his memories: the comfort of the fire and the gibberish noise from his human’s mouth. Their souvenir is still with him, the small heart-shaped pendant hanging from the collar around his neck.
By MC Wills2 years ago in Fiction
Jack and I
Anyone who says straw is soft has obviously not slept on it. Still, it's better than sleeping on the ground. It's warm, and has a great smell, at least while it’s clean and dry. The truth is, I did sleep more often in the loft Dad built in the barn than I did in my own bed. I felt safe there, with my best friend. That was until it all burnt. Only I know what happened that night. No, that is not true, my best friend does, but he doesn’t talk. Even my father didn’t know, at least I don’t think he did. Anyway it doesn’t matter, because he is dead. That’s why everyone is here.
By MC Wills5 years ago in Fiction
Birthright
Present Day The Orange Caste - Ian The putrid smell of urine and faeces no longer touched his consciousness. What tormented him the most was the screeching inside his head that never stopped. Its razor-sharp claws dragging against each cell of his brain shredding away any sense he had of humanity. He looked at the pitiful creatures. Packed into their stalls. Their life more valuable than his. A wave of restlessness moved across them as he released the feed. The contents of the pellets hidden through processing, but he knew. He was the Keeper of the Pigs. His Father said he should be grateful.
By MC Wills5 years ago in Horror

MC Wills

Bio

Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(6)

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The World Within

Fifty Years Between Books

A Perfect Family

Dog Lost

Jack and I

Birthright

Stories (6)