Zachary D. Sajdera
Bio
I work on my written projects in my free time and whenever something comes to me. I'm a huge fan of fantasy and science fiction.
Stories (12)
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The Marrow Warrior and the Bloodstone
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. When she was known as Princess Lin, she was always rambunctious and getting into trouble with the castle keepers, especially Head Keeper Juncho who only wanted to maintain a clean living space for the royalty. Lin was known for sneaking away at all times of day or night with her friend Felix just to mingle with the common-folk or steal away some snacks. She thought this would be her life since she had two brothers several years older than her. Surely the oldest, Dairon, would get the crown and Tomas would inherit the Bloodstone. But civility between their Kingdom of Remulda and the Kingdom of Sidonen rotted away.
By Zachary D. Sajderaabout a year ago in Fiction
Insectophobia
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. They. They don’t know what they’re talking about. Drake Solis tossed in his sweat-soaked cot. He thrust out his hands for something that was wasn’t there and he was jolted awake, but consciousness didn’t relieve him of his flashbacks. The ambush was burned in his memory. He saw it clear as day wherever he went. He heard it wherever he went. A door closed somewhere down the corridor but when Drake turned, he was back aboard the Torrent.
By Zachary D. Sajdera3 years ago in Fiction
Voodoo Train
Maurice Breaux tried to hide his smile behind his cards. He was sitting on two sevens. Spades and hearts. He could work with this, but he wanted to eliminate Morgan from the table. He was still rather new to the game but was riding on a freight train of luck tonight. He gulped a bit of his ‘medicine’ from the flask in his jacket pocket. Morgan and Duncan each put in their blinds. The dealer looked at Maurice from behind darkened glasses.
By Zachary D. Sajdera3 years ago in Fiction
Filthy, Rich
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. To be fair, however, there weren’t many creatures or people at all down there. It had long been accepted to be a massive, dried-up riverbed from ages past. Now it was more a canyon of cracked clay, a few sparce weeds, some rocks of various sizes, and a bed that stretched to either horizon. The Valley was as unassuming and uninteresting as the rest of the world of Naramir. Who or what was to blame for the dragons was debated from person to person, but all agree that the world would never be the same since they arrived.
By Zachary D. Sajdera4 years ago in Fiction
The Angler
He wanted more time at the cabin however now he had everything he needed. It was his final day of driving and he decided to continue into the night to finish the last leg of traveling. Sleep was creeping up on Casper which caused his graying head to bob from time to time. His headlights shined upon the road in a near hypnotizing manner. He just had a few more miles to go.
By Zachary D. Sajdera4 years ago in Fiction
Operation Reclamation
When I was growing up, I remember having rows of raspberries I could walk through. It was so cool to just walk in the front yard and pluck fresh fruit off some canes and eat them right then and there. We had red raspberries and black raspberries growing. How many rows and how big they were I don’t remember. I only remember eating fresh berries.
By Zachary D. Sajdera4 years ago in Lifehack
Valentine's Peer Pressure
Steve’s alarm started blaring. Per usual, it could wake the dead and annoy the living to death. He reached for his phone to turn it off and saw it had added little hearts to the date. February fourteenth. Oh no. It was Valentine’s Day and he didn’t have a present for…
By Zachary D. Sajdera4 years ago in Fiction
If These Walls Could Talk...
A man and woman, followed by a construction worker, approached a decrepit barn. The man had thin sideburns and an anchor beard to go along with his slicked back hair. The breeze slightly ruffled his fancy three-piece suit and he stayed on the gravel driveway to avoid getting dirt on his polished shoes. The woman also wore business attire with a knee-length skirt. Her glasses had a bead leash, and her hair was fitted into a tightly wound bun. She carefully walked next to the man staying on the gravel as well.
By Zachary D. Sajdera5 years ago in Fiction
A Desperate Assignment
Do not underestimate the power of a school assignment. When I was a sophomore in high school, my English teacher wanted to dip into everyone’s creative side. The assignment was to write a story of your own creation. It only had to be at least one handwritten page. That may seem like nothing to some, but the teacher was having trouble getting assignments submitted by a portion of the class. With this assignment, he just wanted "something". Anything!
By Zachary D. Sajdera5 years ago in Education
