And I Write Darker Things

(Originally published on my main blog,  Andi and I Write , on April 4, 2020 )  Gerald kicked damp pine needles over the fire hastily, Jasper doing the same. The flame consumed some, but the two continued to kick more damp leaf litter over until the fire didn't even smoke by the gasps of moonlight that filtered through the clouds, Jasper stomping the last traces of life from it just to be safe. Thaz'ra had since hopped up on her stump once more and was straining her ears, eyes shut as her head turned, trying to focus in on the direction of the sound, the jar half open in her hands. Her momentarily blind gaze settled in the direction of the cabin, and Gerald felt sick. "Stick close to me," Thaz’ra ordered the two men as she hopped down, alert and starting to pour the salt around their tent liberally. Gerald followed her with one hand on her back, Jasper following him the same way. "Guys, what's up out there?" Boris asked from inside the tent in a soft voic...

(Originally published on my main blog,  Andi and I Write , on October 31, 2019) “What do you mean those aren’t your marks?” Thaz’ra asked, forcing something gentle into her voice. "I made a point to only make my marks near like, trees and boulders, landmarks..." Jasper said, his face bone white. Thaz’ra consulted her compass after a moment, finding calm in her bearings at least. "We keep going this way," she said firmly, "It's getting dark..." she turned to Gerald, "Give me the paracord. Whatever is going on, we're not getting separated, clear?" "Yes ma’am," Gerald said, handing her the rope. She tied six loops in the length of it, watching everyone slip their wrists through their respective loops. "The one smart white woman in this horror movie," Rin muttered. “You’re the one in the red shirt,” Hazel pointed out, “I’ve seen enough Star Trek to know what that means.” “Don’t you even come around me with that,” Rin spat ...

(Originally published on my main blog,  Andi and I Write , on October 25, 2019)   Featuring Original Illustration by Andi Daniel Thaz’ra would have followed that man into the river to drown; she felt sometimes that she should have. She was young though, freshly liberated from her parent’s home after mama bird had pushed her from the nest and savoring those first few drops of freedom on a reluctant tongue. What remained is that she followed him, as she had when they danced. They danced because what else is there to do when you’ve known someone’s body so long, so well? They’d been wrapping up their dance practice one day at Gerald’s studio, their fellow survivors from the group of horror having joined them for the practice, when he asked a question. “You ever been up the Yaak Thaz?” Thaz had paused, a glass of wine in hand. “I mean, maybe a few times maybe when I was a kid? Not that I can really remember, why?” She swirled the contents of her glass, glancing up at him. “Is it up...