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Dogtooth

a short storyI kind of forgot to post this here until now, but there’s a new short story for the month available over at my Payhip! This one is a bit different, as it’s part of an ongoing short series, and they won’t be coming out consecutively, but if you’re interested, it’s out and I rather like it!

Alessa Perkins just wants to get some gas and keep on going towards her destination, but when she stops at this seemingly abandoned gas station in the desert, she soon finds herself stuck with an 11 year old girl who calls herself Courage and tells her how she’s waiting for her father to come home, while defending their gas station from The Flickers. What seems like a kid playing games quickly turns into a nightmare as Alessa realizes she’s stumbled into something she cannot run, or hide, from. The Flickers are real. And they are coming…

So there it is, and it’s part 1 of 5 parts, so yeah, it’s a scifi horror with a cool 11 year old heroine and her hatchet, killing monsters! What more do you want? Anyway, if you buy it, I’d be really appreciative and you’d be funding/supporting future projects, so yeah! Thanks! You can buy it here!

Buy My Book!                Support Me Via Patreon!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!

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All Her Dog Teeth

a story about time and teeth(1)It’s March, which means it’s new short story time! This time, you can read a scifi love story featuring a truly horrifying monster.

“ALL HER DOG TEETH” takes place in 3074, and the only lasting structure for miles is a lighthouse, manned by a 37 year old Merideth Mooney. She’s been manning it since she was 17 years old, and was told to wait here in case anyone came back on the boats…but nobody ever came back. So, since then she’s lived a very quiet life, cleaning up the empty ships that returned. Then, one morning, a boat does come back, and in it is a young black woman named Hazel Bloom, who tells Merideth that they’ve met before, and she’s here to help her.

I’m pretty proud of this one, and I think it’s MUCH better than February’s story, so there’s that too. Anyway, thanks for the support and I hope you enjoy this months story!

I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, the satirical online newspaper of “Nowhere, US”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip.

Wanna donate to me directly? You can do that via PayPal! Wanna support me ongoing month to month and get content early? You can do that via Patreon! Thanks for whatever you can spare, I really appreciate it!

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They Were Just Like Us

“Did you cry again last night?” she asked, her eyes peering at her from behind those oval glasses. She was sitting on the other side of the table, in her nice, grey business suit, calmly writing down anything Sara would say.

“I cried more than just last night,” Sara said, sounding ashamed, looking down at her hands, cuffs around her wrists, “I cry multiple times a day now it seems. Not even just, like, what I used to do, but full on sobbing now. It’s awful. I feel so disgusted everytime.”

“It’s understandable,” she said, “It’s a natural feeling most have in your situation when faced with feelings they’d rather not be faced with. Any other feelings you’ve been having lately that you think I should know about?”

“…anger. I’ve been so angry at myself for being this way,” Sara mumbled, her brow furrowing, her nails digging into her pant leg, “If I hadn’t been this way, things would’ve been different. I would be out there and not in here. I would have a life. I’ve been feeling jealous too, jealous of the people who can control this so easily. How do they do it? Why don’t they have these problems?”

“Again, all understandable emotions to be feeling,” she said, before putting her pen down on the table with the clipboard and sitting up straighter, cupping her hands on the table and smiling at Sara, “Miss Meakes…you’ve been in here now for…I think it’s been almost 4 and 1/2 months now, yes? Do you want to be out there? Do you want to be like us?”

“I…don’t know, and that’s the worst part, I…I feel like I don’t because feeling these things makes me so unique…I’m different. Of course, being different is what’s got me locked away from everyone, but…haven’t you ever wanted to feel this way?” Sara asked, forcing a confused look scamper across the womans face for a moment.

“What?”

“Haven’t you ever wanted to feel this way?” Sara repeated herself.

“God no, not at all. No, it’s so much easier being the way I am, the way we all are. I admit that sometimes when I read about the past, about how you need to be able to feel a certain thing to comprehend a piece of classic art, literature, what have you, that I do on occasion wish I could feel that way for a brief moment, if only to understand the piece better…but in the end, it isn’t worth it. These things, they’re what made our world so bad. They’re what caused all the pain and suffering. No, things…things are better now, believe me.”

“…I think the worst is feeling love. I love my parents, but I know full well they don’t love me,” Sara said, “Because they can’t, not because they wouldn’t if they could. I understand the difference. It still hurts though. I wish they could.”

A timer on the womans watch beeped, and she looked at it, then collected her things and stood up, Sara doing the same. She reached over the table and shook Sara’s hand and smiled.

“Thank you Miss Meakes. I will see you again in a month, and we’ll pick up from there, and I do hope things change for you,” she said, before turning and heading out of the white room, leaving Sara alone again. As she exited, she found a man standing by the exit, waiting for her, eating an apple. He was dressed just as she was, same casual business attire, same boring expression on his face.

“So?” he asked.

“She’s not going anywhere for a while. If anything, it’s getting worse,” she said, “I wish I could feel bad for her. I wish I could, so I could really understand how much she’s hurting, but I just don’t.”

“It’s better you don’t,” the man said, and she nodded.

“I know that, but still…sometimes I think about what it’d be like to feel these things. To feel love, anger, sadness. To have emotions. These poor people, kept away from the rest of the cold, emotionless world, all because they feel what we once considered basic human emotions. What they have was once considered normal. Human. Now they’re different. ‘Unique’. But I know it’s better this way, I do know that.”

“Come on,” the man said, finishing the apple and tossing it into a garbage can, “Let’s go file this, we have other cases to get to.”

As they left, the woman glanced over her shoulder and saw Miss Meakes being taken from the room by her handler, presumably back to her cell. When their eyes connected, Sara smiled at her, and for one fleeting second, the woman swore she felt good inside.

Like what you’ve read? I have other fiction on this blog. Just check out the “fiction” tab! Or, if you wanna see more content from me, maybe help me out by donating to me here? Be greatly appreciated!