Impostors (Fiction)

I don’t remember when this was originally written, but it is another very old piece of fiction from me. Short and to the point, but leaving you hanging.. enjoy!


They had been attacked by canids already, and Grissom knew his captain was behind him a little ways with the other member of the landing party, so he snuck up behind the canine and struck with his sword.

He hears the captain’s voice grunt in pain and smells her scent coming from the canid he just stabbed. “C-captain? I’m so sorry. I-“

She cuts him off, sputtering, “It’s okay. Just, get the biofoam.”

“Grissom. She’s an impostor.” The captain comes down from a rock to their left.

He raises his laser pistol towards her. She stops approaching. Another appears from the right. “And so is she.” it says.

He turns to look at her, his pistol still aimed at the second one. From behind them, another steps out, “Grissom, come here.”

“Sorry captain.” he says looking between them, the laser pistol slightly lowered, “Not until I know which one is actually you.”

Another walked in from the path they had been taking through the caves. She stood silent for a moment looking between each of them, “Grissom.”

They all looked at her, “Grissom, I’m hoping you’re the one with the sword stabbing the other one.” she pulled out her own laser pistol and shot the two on her left. They fell to the ground.

Grissom aimed at her as she started to approach, “Not another step.” He let go of the sword, the other Grissom falling as the weight of the sword suddenly started cutting down. He pulled out his scanner and scanned the captain in front of him, the scanner read her as the captain. He turned it to the one still standing, it read alien DNA, he shot it.

At the same time he scanned the other one, the captain pulled out her scanner and scanned him and the one he’d stabbed, reading the true Grissom…and herself.

Grissom scanned the one he stabbed while the captain gently placed her laser pistol on the ground and rose her hands slowly. When he saw the readings as the captain’s, he quickly turned on her, but saw she was slowly backing away.

“I don’t know what your readings say, but mine say that you are Grissom and that one is me. Get the biofoam out for her, and take us both back to the ship now. We need to sort this out and staying here any longer will probably get us both killed.”

“Alright.” he says, picking up her laser pistol. “Back up.” She complies and he goes through his medpack, grabbing the biofoam.

The stabbed captain is unconscious, he carefully pulls the sword out, trying not to do any more damage, and applies the biofoam to seal the wound as he slips the sword the rest of the way out.

Dinner Time (Fiction)

Sasha was fixing dinner for Justin and herself, and Justin was laying down outside, resting after a hard day’s work. She called out, “Dinner!” when finished, and Justin padded in, happily wagging his tail.

She set his bowl down and her own at the table. Justin was half done by the time Sasha sat down to start eating, and she laughed at his eagerness, “If you want more, go get it yourself.”

As Sasha took her first bite, she noticed an odd smell, one she recognized from her teenage years. Her eyes widened with alarm as a gun leveled at her chest, and then fired.

Justin looked over, and was shot too. The assassin put another two rounds in each of them to be sure, and then pulled out a cell phone, “Got them.”

“Both?”

“Of course.”

“You sure?”

“Certainly.” The phone clicked off, and the assassin turned back to his targets. One of the werewolves bit his throat out, the other muttered, “Got them, my ass.”


Another nearly decade old story, originally published on Wattpad, but I don’t have the exact date of publication. Oh well. This one involves characters I had written much of a story surrounding their teenage years, but I have since lost.

The Death of Me (Fiction)

(This post has been imported from an old blog of mine. Warning: Contains graphic descriptions.)

Somewhere in the distance I see her eyes, glowing green in the darkness. “Tes!” I call out for her, but she is already gone. I stand in the swirling black, watching the pine trees around me sway in the winds.

The world slowly rips apart, brightening and darkening in an erratic fashion. I know what is going to happen next, it happens the same way every time. A glowing white doorway opens in front of me.

I reach out, silently asking for help. A shadow comes to the doorway from the other side. Their eyes briefly show in clarity, an extremely pale blue. Then everything starts to fade, and the shadow’s eyes turn red.

I fall to the floor, and feel the stab wounds on my back. I reach for the doorway, seeing light reflect off of my hand. My hand is wet. With my other hand, I feel for where my guts were a moment ago.

I try to ask for help, but my throat only lets out the sound of a weak gargle. I taste bitter salt, my own blood and bile rising up. I feel ice water dashed across the back of my head, my face slams into the ground. It is concrete.

The cinder-block slides off of the back of my head. I wonder how I can withstand this much pain, and die.

Nathaniel’s Ground

I believe this may have been written shortly after I first played The Great Machine: A Fragment, based on how it is written. I would highly recommend playing that game before reading this. They are only loosely thematically related, but that game is.. to put it simply, one of the best games I’ve ever played.


An hour ago, the forest had been full of birds twittering and creatures rustling through the undergrowth. Now it was deathly silent, the only movement the wind and a small group of humans down a small path.

An hour later, they encounter a huge rusty wheel, the curved blades of it slowly moving the air. A giant fan. It slowly turns in front of them, dangerous to pass through, but moving slowly enough you could make it.

They want to go around it, as there is a weak sense of evil about it. Unfortunately, the fan is walled in, leaving them no choice than to pass through. At least the land beyond the fan was normal, a regular continuation of the forest.

As they pass through, pain greets the young adventurers, and the true nature of the land beyond is revealed. Twisted bodies of the humans that had come before line the path. Blood and gore make up the landscape. Carnage stretches to the horizon.

There is the sweet smell of cherries, disturbingly fresh, not the smell of decaying mass as it should be. Perhaps the scariest part, the half-destroyed and maimed bodies beneath, they are moving, not dead, not alive.

The adventurers now walk across the pool of bodies, but they slowly fall away from their duty, and ache to join the damned below. Their clothes are ripped off, their flesh is shredded, they join their new brothers.


This little story of doom was generated from a script I wrote that takes a list of ~240 words and randomly chooses ten, which I then turn into a coherent sentence with my twisted mind: Nathaniel’s dreaded ground filled with carnage and ether, past his fan.