Twitch Stream Story: Engine in the Attic

Prompt: A scifi story about posthumanism and discrimination

Every footstep had to be sanctioned. Infrak’s steps had been predetermined for more than four years now. Each step with his giant feet, each as wide as a schooner, was clearly marked with concrete borders. These steps moved in a circle around the city. It was his patrol route, now that he wasn’t needed for battle any longer. Continue reading

Chat-your-own-Adventure #22: The Pin in Surtr’s Throne

Author’s Note: This story was written live on stream with the audience bidding tokens (earned while watching) to determine the path of the story.  The underlined phrases in the choice of three were the winning pathways. (This story used a different format of eliminated choices.)  Stop by if you’d ever like to participate in our interactive fiction.

Alfheim – Elves                Svartalfheim – Dwarves                Jotunheim – Giants

Vanaheim – Gods                         Niflheim – Ice                      Muspelheim – Lava

The deep purple of the rent sky went on forever. In that forever, six realms could be seen, each hanging as fruit from the world tree Yggdrasil. There had been nine before, nine for incalculable time, but they were burnt to ash now, and the others soon to follow. It was Ragnarok, the death of the tree, and the movement of all the beings in all the remaining worlds was just the death rattle of life itself. Continue reading

Twitch Stream Story: Hightail it Out

Prompt: There is a futuristic civilization with tiny people and a primitive collection of human-sized tribes

From the moment he was captured, the life of Second Housefly Admiral Narbin Deez had been nothing but iterations of rank darkness. He’d been plucked out of the wreckage of his ship and immediately dumped into a sweaty shirt pocket from which he could not clamber out. After that he’d been transferred into a sock with ten other prisoners, some of whom were not human. The praying mantis in the bunch certainly ate its fill.

Currently he was held, alone, inside a match box. He knew it was a matchbox because of that unmistakable smell of potential fire. They left him a solitary match as company, a thing as tall as him that he could barely wield even if given the opportunity. It was his first chance to reflect on the crash. Continue reading