Jahera’s hands trembled as she leant against the metal wall. Her palms slipped on the sweat pouring from her skin.
Author Archives: kraxon
Prey
Jahera’s hands trembled as she leant against the metal wall. Her palms slipped on the sweat pouring from her skin. She struck out and sunk into her arms sobbing, the cold of the metal burrowing into her bones. Fragmented ribs stabbed at her with every breath. She dried away the last of her tears. The burnt, torn clothes scratched her face. Images of bent talons pierced her thoughts.
A self-satisfied growl drifted along the passage to her right. The urge to flee kicked in again, but she had been running for days. Prey.
The smell of rotten meat enveloped her. She turned to face hot air crawling over her skin. Through a hole in the metal wall, a forked tongue licked out to where her sweaty palms had been. Her eyes focused. The corner of her tormentor’s mouth lifted in the darkness to reveal dimly lit fangs. She knew it wanted her to run. It dared her. A white, glass eye with a sliver of black examined her from the other side of the hole. Its hate reached out; cold hands touching her organs as if preparing them for consumption.
3024AD: Print Edition by Dean Smith-Richard
Congratulations to Dean Smith-Richard on reaching his kickstarter goal of $2,000. Kraxon Publishing was one of the backers of Dean’s kickstarter project.
Dean will use the money to launch a print edition of his book 3024 A.D. You can read more about it on Dean’s blog.
Fourth House of Witches story by E.J. Tett
“Do you have a key to the head office?” Paula hatches a cunning plan.
House of Witches : Four
Paula lay on her back on the grass, arms spread wide as she soaked up the sun’s rays which filtered down through the shimmering roof of the dome. Buffalo snorted and chomped at the ground nearby, pulling up daisies. His hooves left prints in the earth as he moved and Paula turned her head to watch him briefly. He would never, and had never, hurt anybody. Why she had to be shut up in that place because of him…
She folded her arms across her chest and frowned up at the sky. No point thinking about it. She had to do something about it.
Somebody was moving over by the tennis court – not any of the girls – it was one of the carers. He’d taken the net down and now, picking up a hammer from his bag, started to bash at the metal post at the edge of the court. Paula winced as the sound cut through her and set her teeth on edge. She sat up and glowered at him.
Chris. She remembered his name suddenly. The new guy. He wasn’t much to look at – probably a little older than she was, with mousey hair, a slightly too-big nose and no arse. She got to her feet and walked over to him.
Rosie Oliver reads her short story Getting There
Rosie Oliver read her short story Getting There at the March BristolCon Fringe.
Kraxon Books becomes Kraxon Magazine
The magazine section of Kraxon Books has been renamed Kraxon Magazine and moved to www.kraxon.com
New short story by Martin Clark
Tommy Lee McMaster is a man not to be messed with.
Leeway
“Please take a seat, McMaster.”
I sat across the desk from Director Haining, unbuttoning my jacket so that the Glock didn’t snag on the lining. The only source of illumination in his office was the desk lamp. Haining obviously thought the down-lighter made him look serious and brooding, whereas all it really did was highlight his double chin.
He smiled. “You’ve been head of corporate security now for, what, three years?”
“Four come June.”
“Four come June. And may I say that we, that is to say, the board, are very pleased with your work to date. Very pleased indeed.” Haining fiddled with his cufflinks. “You’re the closest thing we have to a father confessor around here. Some may be uncomfortable with what you know about us, but I’m not. You don’t judge, McMaster, you never judge.”
“All I ask for is honesty, sir. I can’t fix the problem if I don’t know what it is.”
Third House of Witches story by E.J. Tett
Chris works as a janitor at the Imagination Correction Facility.