Chandler Marcukaitis
Bio
Even if nothing comes of it, it’s just nice to have another outlet for the thoughts in my head. Thank you if you take the time to read my stories!
Stories (2/0)
Alecron 1572
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. After that night, all I can hear are the screams of my comrades as they disappeared into that desolate void. They had been sucked out like boba through a straw but through merciless fate I had been left on this deserted island of a spacecraft. At first, I enjoyed the quiet I found myself in, as if it were my own world. Those presumed dead were mourned, all 279 of them. I couldn't imagine them still alive floating around in the vastness of space. It was hard to accept that I wasn't out there with them. Who am I to be the only survivor of Alecron 1572?
By Chandler Marcukaitis2 years ago in Fiction
Panic on the Pinegrove Express
She struggled to open her weary eyes as the rhythmic rattling of the train attempted to lull her back to sleep. Sierra forced them open and gazed in awe at the majestic snow-capped mountains that towered above her through the window. Prickly conifers speckled the pure white terrain like constellations shooting by and an impressive river gushed through it’s deep valley. Sierra felt revived by the refreshing scenery and began to investigate the less invigorating train car. She glanced over to see rows and rows of identical brown leather seats that were devoid of any signs of ever being sat in. Besides the rattling of the train it was deafeningly silent and it filled her with that same emptiness. With a deep sigh Sierra rose from her seat, and quickly met the cold steel of the floor. She strained to turn her neck and could see that her ankles had been bound together with a thick, worn rope that she was no match for as she fought to free herself. She would have attempted to untie it but her wrists had also been bound in the same manner behind her back and had no better luck getting them free. Her chest tightened as she squirmed and liquid fear streamed down her soft, freckled cheeks. “Hello?!” She cried, searching for a savior in the silent sanctuary of the train car. The only answer she got was the hollow echo of her own voice. Endless questions raced across her mind as her consciousness began to fade. She could vaguely recall a midnight stroll in the dead of night and an unforgiving wind that was on par with the cold metal floor she now laid on.
By Chandler Marcukaitis2 years ago in Fiction
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