Bastian Falkenrath
Bio
I've been writing since I was eleven, but I didn't get into it seriously until I was sixteen. I live in southern California, and my writing mostly focuses on historical fiction, sci-fi, and fantasy. Or some amalgamation thereof. Pseudonym.
Stories (49/0)
Command & Conquer History - Part 1
[First, allow me of course to say that I do not own Command & Conquer. Second, anyone that knows the regular C&C timeline will eventually see that this does not follow the canon timeline of any individual universe. This is my attempt to tie the various games into one consolidated universe, while also incorporating more historical events that may not have been altered due to the shifting nature of the timeline.]
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Fiction
Matthias Scott - Air Pirate; Part 3
Stirling paused, his body in shock for a long moment after that dreaded word came over the line. The only thing that made the gears of his mind turn again was his communications officer asking him what was going on. Slowly, he looked at the man, then at the phone that was still in his hand, and set the latter down with a soft click as the earpiece relaxed into its cradle. Then without looking to the other man, Stirling spoke gravely. “Alert security. We're being boarded.”
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Fiction
Class of 2013 - 1
[Credit for the images used for the Cover Image: Images found on FreeDigitalPhotos.net Empty Class Room by criminalatt Barb Wire by winnond The Desperate Anxiety by Naypong Shadow of Hand in Jail by sakhorn38 And a special thanks to my friend Sabrina Coles for putting the cover together.]
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Fiction
A Vampire's Life - Part 3
January 1st, 1603 His feet pounded along the cobblestones of London's streets, running at the fastest pace he could manage. Scrimshaw had sent him on an errand; a delivery of money as payment for something or other. Bastian knew not what the ancient-looking man had bought, nor did he especially care. The white-haired old bugger had not taught him a single thing in terms of combat. He had taught him useful skills – reading, writing, how to speak (in an attempt to stomp out his accent), and some arithmetic – but those were only taught to him so he could perform the basic duties with which he was entrusted.
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Fiction
Bloodlines - Part 4
It took me a while to really get up and do anything important, and the catalyst for the action was rather mundane: I got hungry. Being that I still had no food, and I had a laundry list of things that I still needed to go out and buy, getting ready for the day shot to the top of my to-do list. Half an hour after I got off my rear and decided to get ready, I was done – though I was beginning to have hunger pains. I hadn't eaten in over twelve hours, and my body was making it very clear that if I didn't get some food in my stomach, its next option was to begin digesting itself.
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Horror
A Vampire's Life - Part 2
5 July, 1602 He hadn't seen the punch coming, but he certainly saw the stars exploding on the insides of his eyelids after it connected. One good hit was all it had taken to down the thirteen-year-old, and he'd dropped like a sack of rocks. Dazed, he groaned in pain, trying to roll over so he could get up off the wet wood of the shipyard's dock. Yet, even as he did, another burst of pain came to him as one of the older boys kicked him in the stomach. He dropped onto his side and curled, dry-heaving from the pain.
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Fiction
Bloodlines - Part 3
The rest of the day was spent moving my things into the house. As I did, I became depressingly aware of how little furniture I had. The house wasn't very big, and yet it retained quite a large amount of empty space. In the master bedroom I put a small lamp, my dresser, cot, mattress, pillow and bedding. My computer, a small office chair that was little more than a stool on wheels with a back, and the bookshelf went into the room that would have been mine as a kid.
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Horror
Matthias Scott - Air Pirate; Part 2
The gray sky was lit with a series of white-gold flashes as lightning arced through the heavy, low-hanging clouds. The storm was a large one, and easily powerful enough to be rated as a low-end hurricane. Rain fell in sheets, and thunder rolled, vibrating and shaking the glass of the rigid airship's bridge. Even the very floor of the lighter-than-air vessel's command center jostled like an earthquake, but the cargo carrier's commander, Captain Stirling, didn't issue a single order to take them out of the storm's wrath. He saw this wicked bout of weather as a blessing. The sky lanes had been getting hit more and more often by pirates, and he was so very sure that they wouldn't dare attempt boarding his vessel in such a gale. Unfortunately, he did not know the man that he was destined to be facing this day. The storm would prove to be his undoing, rather than his savior.
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Fiction
A Vampire's Life - Part 1
4 July, 1600 The small fishing village was a lively place. Set along the northern coast of Prussia, in territory that the Romans had once called 'Germania', a couple of farms flanked it, and small merchant vessels lined the docks. The fishermen were out in their boats, hauling in their catches before the storm that was threatening the area struck. The sky was gray, filled with storm clouds heavy with rain, though it was not yet falling. Today was a special day in the village – it was Bastian Falkenrath's eleventh birthday and, as was typical of birthdays here, there was to be a big party.
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Fiction
Bloodlines - Part 2
This was far from the first time that I had gone back to the town that I was born in. I'd been there every year, with one set of grandparents or the other, sometimes both, for twenty-one years. This was, however, the first time that I had gone back by myself. We had been here for my birthday; a tradition that my grandmother on my father's side had thought up. They had never hidden from me that my parents had died before I was old enough to remember them. We came here on my birthday so that I could, in some strange way, spend time with them.
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Horror
Life Cycle of a Locket
The locket was old. Hand-crafted in a time long since passed, by a jeweler of exceptional skill, for a young man's maiden fair, in the shape of a heart. It was silver, with golden inlay for the lovely designs that were placed upon it at the time of its creation. Agatha Henderson had loved the gift so much that she had practically given her own heart to Jack Christian that very day in 1896. A year later they were married, and their family grew quickly. All because of that little silver locket.
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Fiction
Bloodlines
The rail yard was cold that night. It had rained that morning, and the ground was still wet. Thick fog covered the ground, wispy like in those old horror movies. The moon, bright and full, peeked through the few openings in the clouds overhead, dew forming on the sides of the metal freight cars. It was quiet, hardly a sound to be heard as the night drug on. Two young lovers had driven out to the rarely active rail yard to get some time away from the town. The idea was that, a least for tonight, they would have nothing to distract them from one another.
By Bastian Falkenrath3 years ago in Horror