A collection of short stories, some of which were originally published on TikTok, and others are exclusive to this website.
The Thing By Mile Marker 19
Jack Mercer had been on the road since dusk, running a long-haul job that took him across a stretch of desert most truckers avoided when…
The Needle’s Last Light
The lighthouse didn’t have a name anymore. Whatever plaque once declared it proud and useful had rotted away decades back, leaving only its jagged silhouette…
The Archive – Chapter Eight: SIGNAL // AFTERLIGHT
The transmission was faint — weaker than static, buried under cosmic hiss and radiation storms. It should never have been detected. And yet, the SSV…
The Archive – Chapter Seven: Juno
There is no air here. Only rhythm. My breath matches the pulse of the corridors. My heartbeat echoes through the walls. Every step I take…
The Archive – Chapter Six: ECHO_402
She falters. Not in body—she is still moving, still breathing, still reaching for doors that have no edges—but in mind. Every step she takes splinters…
The Archive – Chapter Five: Juno
I don’t know how long I was on the floor. Time here stretches like old wires—thin, frayed, ready to snap. At some point, I pushed…
The Archive – Chapter Four: ECHO_237
We shape her. We are the shape. She is the clay. Her thoughts are pliant in our hands, though she does not yet realise she…
The Archive – Chapter Three: Juno
The corridors had changed again. I wasn’t sure how many times I’d circled them—once, twice, twenty—but my lungs burned as though I’d been running for…
The Archive – Chapter Two: ECHO_112
She wakes. We see her first as a pulse of light in the darkness, small and fragile, floating in a void she cannot yet name.…
The Archive – Chapter One: Juno
The pod drifted in orbit around the dead star, a shard of black ice against the infinite black. Its light was fractured, reflecting in jagged…
The Dial Tone
Mona Higgins lived on Willow Crescent, in one of those neat little post-war houses where the hedges were clipped straight and the curtains were drawn…
The Mug on the Desk (And the Darkness It Holds) – Memoirs from the Edge of the Abyss
Hello. I’m the mug. Not chipped. Not novelty. Not one of those gaudy, slogan-slapped things that scream “World’s Best Writer” like a curse. I’m classic.…
Gareth Ellis - Author 