Dan R Fowler
Bio
Dan R. Fowler. 71, writing is more than a hobby, it's a place for me to become anyone I choose to be, visit mystical scenes, or swim deep within my brain. e-book paperback, or audible. type dan r fowler on the search line. Amazon
.
Stories (265/0)
The Star Ship Resurrection
The year is 2109 Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. It’s also been said many times that the living is only alive because of the dead. Because of wars, genocides, and invasions that were used to “clean” the Earth, the world we’d left behind only remained “alive” because of the reoccurring pattern of life and death. We, those of us aboard what has become known as “The Last Ship”, will have nothing to brag about when we arrive at our foreordained “new world” light years away from the blood-stained chronicles etched in the archives of our birth world.
By Dan R Fowler2 years ago in Fiction
A TANGLED WEB
Dan R. Fowler For Brian, my son. Heaven Where is heaven? Although the Hebrews used this word to refer to the sky, and the biblical phrase “heaven and earth” implies the whole universe, we do not know where heaven is located. The Bible, however, clearly teaches that heaven is the home of God, Jesus Christ, and the angels. It is also the future home of all believers a place where they will worship God forever.
By Dan R Fowler2 years ago in Fiction
The Bombardier
CHAPTER ONE Randall Sullivan slumped in the passenger seat aboard a speeding train on its continuing trip between the realms of truth and fantasy. He will awaken, like many others, without a ticket, without any knowledge as to how he arrived in the seat across the aisle from an elderly couple dressed in gray attire. But during his time on this train, he’ll come to understand a mystery few have ever known.
By Dan R Fowler2 years ago in Fiction
HELL HALL
Chapter One Darkness choked him. It choked him every night. There was nowhere left for him to run. Solitude, loneliness, and fear loomed in the air as thick as morning fog. Where could he go to hide? He jumped into bed, clutched the covers up around his neck, wedged the blanket under his feet, and prayed for comfort from the watchers, ghosts, unseen visitors, monsters, and those unwanted and uninvited specters that always come from the other world into the room where he slept. They invaded his will, his mind, and his soul. Eyes filled with piercing vapors and encircling flames stood by his bed one again. Fearing the faintest touch from them, he flinched as if electricity leaped from the wall socket of its own will onto the bed. Unspoken words from childhood prayers stood at the gate but refused to be spoken. Needing a release to fight off the creatures from some niche forgotten by the world, Scott, a man now eighteen years old, took his normal last available escape from the torment covering him. Seeking to retain his sanity, grasping sleep, a form of release, or so he thought, he rode the familiar reserved seat on a fast-moving beam of light that thrust small spiral-shaped shards into uncharted regions where, if one wasn’t vigilant, arms of the aggressor would seize the living light unwilling to relinquish the flame of one’s soul.
By Dan R Fowler2 years ago in Horror
HELL HALL
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Darkness choked him. It choked him every night. There was nowhere left for him to run. Solitude, loneliness, and fear loomed in the air as thick as morning fog. Where could he go to hide? He jumped into bed, clutched the covers up around his neck, wedged the blanket under his feet, and prayed for comfort from the watchers, ghosts, unseen visitors, monsters, and those unwanted and uninvited specters that always come from the other world into the room where he slept. They invaded his will, his mind, and his soul. Eyes filled with piercing vapors and encircling flames stood by his bed one again. Fearing the faintest touch from them, he flinched as if electricity leaped from the wall socket of its own will onto the bed. Unspoken words from childhood prayers stood at the gate but refused to be spoken. Needing a release to fight off the creatures from some niche forgotten by the world, Scott, a man now eighteen years old, took his normal last available escape from the torment covering him. Seeking to retain his sanity, grasping sleep, a form of release, or so he thought, he rode the familiar reserved seat on a fast-moving beam of light that thrust small spiral-shaped shards into uncharted regions where, if one wasn’t vigilant, arms of the aggressor would seize the living light unwilling to relinquish the flame of one’s soul.
By Dan R Fowler2 years ago in Fiction
HELL HALL
Darkness choked him. It choked him every night. There was nowhere left for him to run. Solitude, loneliness, and fear loomed in the air as thick as morning fog. Where could he go to hide? He jumped into bed, clutched the covers up around his neck, wedged the blanket under his feet, and prayed for comfort from the watchers, ghosts, unseen visitors, monsters, and those unwanted and uninvited specters that always come from the other world into the room where he slept. They invaded his will, his mind, and his soul. Eyes filled with piercing vapors and encircling flames stood by his bed one again. Fearing the faintest touch from them, he flinched as if electricity leaped from the wall socket of its own will onto the bed. Unspoken words from childhood prayers stood at the gate but refused to be spoken. Needing a release to fight off the creatures from some niche forgotten by the world, Scott, a man now eighteen years old, took his normal last available escape from the torment covering him. Seeking to retain his sanity, grasping sleep, a form of release, or so he thought, he rode the familiar reserved seat on a fast-moving beam of light that thrust small spiral-shaped shards into uncharted regions where, if one wasn’t vigilant, arms of the aggressor would seize the living light unwilling to relinquish the flame of one’s soul.
By Dan R Fowler2 years ago in Horror
HELL HALL
Chapter One Darkness choked him. It choked him every night. There was nowhere left for him to run. Solitude, loneliness, and fear loomed in the air as thick as morning fog. Where could he go to hide? He jumped into bed, clutched the covers up around his neck, wedged the blanket under his feet, and prayed for comfort from the watchers, ghosts, unseen visitors, monsters, and those unwanted and uninvited specters that always come from the other world into the room where he slept. They invaded his will, his mind, and his soul. Eyes filled with piercing vapors and encircling flames stood by his bed one again. Fearing the faintest touch from them, he flinched as if electricity leaped from the wall socket of its own will onto the bed. Unspoken words from childhood prayers stood at the gate but refused to be spoken. Needing a release to fight off the creatures from some niche forgotten by the world, Scott, a man now eighteen years old, took his normal last available escape from the torment covering him. Seeking to retain his sanity, grasping sleep, a form of release, or so he thought, he rode the familiar reserved seat on a fast-moving beam of light that thrust small spiral-shaped shards into uncharted regions where, if one wasn’t vigilant, arms of the aggressor would seize the living light unwilling to relinquish the flame of one’s soul.
By Dan R Fowler2 years ago in Fiction
Subscribe to my stories
Show your support and receive all my stories in your feed.
Send me a tip
Show your support with a small one-off tip.