Saturday, 31 January 2015

Coming Soon...

Halcyon was once calm, peaceful, and tranquil. Its people led a blissful, idyllic life. The land was green and lush.

That was before the Outbreak.

They called it the Happening. When three objects lit up the sky. The three objects loomed larger by the hour, until finally, they exploded. As they exploded, they scattered their deadly cargo across the land. Paradoxically, the deadly cargo brought life. But it was the kind of life that would change Halcyon forever.

The first object exploded over Windswept Plateau. Before long the plateau-dwellers were struck by a mysterious illness. They became pale and listless, and developed an inexplicable craving for human blood. Those who succumbed, survived. Those who resisted, died. Before long, the plateau-dwellers ventured out onto the Great Rift looking for sustenance. There, they preyed on the rift-dwellers like shadows in the night.

The second object exploded over Howling Wood. The wolves became voracious, their appetite insatiable. Before long, they wiped out the forest’s wildlife. That’s when they turned their attention onto the forest-dwellers. Night after night, the forest-dwellers fought back. Wolf carcasses were eaten out of desperation. But by avoiding starvation, the forest-dwellers sealed their own fate. Before long, they succumbed to a fever, and eventually fell unconscious. Days later, they awoke with a desperate craving for human flesh and the curious ability to shapeshift. The forest-dwellers ventured out onto the Great Rift to satisfy their craving. Their raids brought chaos and devastation.

The third object exploded over the Great Rift. Before long, wretched creatures appeared out of nowhere, spewing out black plumes of vitriol. Those infected became mindless husks, driven by the need to infect others. They became know as reapers .

And so the rift-dwellers were preyed on from all sides. They became known as runners, and the Great Rift became known as Death Valley.

Sunday, 11 January 2015


Artur and Troy inch forward. The rest follow. A high-pitched howl reaches out from the darkness. They hear more rustling in the undergrowth, this time closer. The solitary howl, slowly develops into a chorus.

Dark shadows appear out of nowhere.

Troy glances back.

“Time to make a stand!”

The group readies itself.

Troy turns back towards the undergrowth.

The shadows have vanished.

Troy and Artur strain to locate their stalkers.

Troy glances across at Artur.

“Where did they go!”

Just when Troy thinks he’s spotted something, it fades back into the undergrowth. The group stand perfectly still, and wait for something to happen.

The wolves finally decide to make a move. A dozen flame red eyes light up, and peer back through the undergrowth. Twigs snap, as five over-sized wolves creep out into the open, their black, shabby coats, now clearly visible. The leader inches forward snarling, and foaming at the mouth.

The pack follows closely.

Artur beckons the leader on.

“Here doggy-doggy!”

Wednesday, 17 December 2014


Kain is lying on his bed.

He opens his eyes, and stares.

He heard his name…

He’s sure of it.

Just a whisper.


Kain sits bolt upright.

There it is again.

He gets out of bed and walks towards the door. It’s dark outside. The camp is covered in a shroud of mist. A bright shaft of moonlight penetrates the canopy. It bathes the camp in a ghost-white hue. Kain looks up. He sees the vague outline of a full moon forcing its way through the dense canopy. Something catches Kain’s eye. He turns sharply. Stood at the edge of the forest, is a woman dressed in white. Her dress takes on the same ghost-white hue as the moonlight.

She reaches out beseechingly.


The woman turns, and disappears into the forest.

Kain tries to call out, but chokes on his own voice.

He sprints to where the woman was stood.


Kain stands perfectly still, and strains to listen.

The sound of rustling leaves causes him to turn.

He catches a glimpse of the woman.

Kain bursts into the forest, and looks right and left.


Once again, Kain strains to listen.


There it is again.

Kain catches another glimpse.

The woman scurries away.

Kain locks onto his target, and sprints after it.

The figure glides across the ground, smoothly weaving its way through the thick undergrowth, and effortlessly breezing over hurdles.

Kain strains every nerve and sinew, he pushes his way through the thorny undergrowth as it hits him in the face. His hands and face are ripped to shreds. But Kain ploughs on regardless. He somehow manages to keep up—then comes to an abrupt halt.

Standing before him is the mysterious woman...

Monday, 15 December 2014


Shiva decided they had to keep moving. Despite it being their second night without sleep. They had no choice, not if they wanted to make up ground on the killers. No words were spoken. Shiva simply strode off into the distance. Dagon and Malachi exchanged glances, and followed. They followed unquestioningly and without hesitation. No words were needed.

Shiva’s relentless pace continued through the night. She didn't look back once. Nor did she utter a single word. Dagon and Malachi did the same. Shiva had no words. But Dagon and Malachi could hear the muffled cries. They watched her wipe away the tears. And when her arms were by her side, they saw that her hands were dripping wet.

It’s dawn, and Shiva continues to set a relentless pace. Malachi is clearly exhausted. He stumbles and falls. Shiva doesn't look back. Why should she? It’s not the first time he’s fallen. And it won’t be the last. Shiva hasn't looked back once. Dagon helps Malachi to his feet, and dusts him down. They frantically pick up the pace as they play catch-up.

Shiva comes to an abrupt halt, as something comes into view.

Ahead, is an abandoned campsite.

Shiva smiles.

Their hard work has paid off.

She gestures towards something on the ground.

“See what it is, Dagon.”

Sunday, 14 December 2014


Troy’s group has finally reached the top of High Ridge. They pause for a while and stare eastwards. The further east they travel, the less barren the terrain becomes. The shrubland beckons them on towards their goal. But it’s dusk. The shrublands can wait until tomorrow. In the distance, Wayward Forest looms large. A dense wall of green obscures the horizon as it spreads uninterrupted across the landscape. According to legend, no light penetrates Wayward Forest. Entry is barred by a deadly network of thorns. Attempting entry is futile. Those who have tried have become entangled, and died where they stood. Legend has it that fleshless corpses litter the entire perimeter. Frozen in time. Serving as a portentous reminder to those foolish enough to believe that Wayward Forest can be breached.

Troy stares down at his map, and wonders how they will find a way through.

Saturday, 13 December 2014


Quinn thinks back to the night when his parents died. He was a young boy. No more than five years old. Quinn was asleep in the corner of the tent. He remembers waking up, and seeing two hooded figures staring through the tent aperture. Quinn froze with fear. His parents lay fast asleep in middle of the tent next to the fire. The flames from the fire lit up the two intruders. One figure was much taller than the other. They stepped into the tent, and pulled back their hoods, then made their way towards Quinn’s parents. The taller man’s shaven head glinted in the firelight. Quinn watched, unnoticed.

Long shadows hit the back of the tent as the figures approached. They moved in complete silence as they walked towards their prey. Both crouched down as they reached their targets. Quinn tried to avert his eyes, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't look away. The two figures lowered their heads and started to feed.

Friday, 12 December 2014


Geraint and his party stand face to face with their next challenge. They stare in awe of Tower Ridge… a huge monolith formed from sandstone over eons of time. The ridge is bereft of any plant life because of its solid structure. It dominates the horizon like an impenetrable wall as it shimmers bright orange in the midday sun. A white band of cloud obscures the summit. The top of Tower Ridge vanishes into the mist as it continues to rise, creating an illusion of boundless infinity.

Geraint stands gawping.

He points towards the obscured summit.

“Please tell me that, um, we don’t need to climb that!”