Derrick L.
Bio
Stories (16/0)
On the Edge
Specks of dry snow scraped against her cheeks, their little arms like knives that stabbed every swollen pore exposed to the wind. She felt nothing. Standing in the cold she watched as the man in front of her walked off the edge. The scrape of his rubber soles were silenced by the deafening sounds of emptiness. She climbed atop the stone pilaster and stared at the footprints that once marked where the man had stood. The bevelled edges from his shoes began to disappear under the weight of new snow, burying what little trace was left of him. It was a grim reminder of what was already apparent to her, nothing matters when you are gone.
By Derrick L.2 months ago in Fiction
The Maelstrom
The soundless claxon drills deep in the grey - a madness sewing barbed nets. Escape is impossible. The phantom confronts me again during its indomitable crusade of hate. My body aches. In attempt to flee, my feet beckon me away into the storm. Trapped with the tormentor, my skull throbs as a spell scrapes behind my scalp. I pummel the unseen until collapse. Above, darkness parts as grains of light trail from the sky. A hand emerges, plucking me away to solace. Below, an incorporeal glare grips my soul as the gaping maw of my own stares back at me.
By Derrick L.12 months ago in Fiction
Terror in the Pines
There is a legend of a beast in the glen. An abomination attracted by the scent of bread, of whom, preys on unlucky wayfarers in the woods. The brave like myself, seek to prove the beast be nothing but a falsehood. I trekked with a bag of wheaty bread on a path towards the hillside, leaving crumbs to bait the beast. I reached a stone that marked the trail’s end and coincidentally, the bread. A sudden breath grazed my scalp, freezing my spine as a darkness bellowed from behind, “I am sick of wheat, you have any rye?”
By Derrick L.12 months ago in Fiction
Message From the Stars
Long ago, it was decided by the divinations of science that the heavens beyond were a lifeless void. That was, until our father Archibald Crane—the first Skydiver—plunged into the Kosmos, never to return. Hansel and I would wait by the site of his departure, “Skyport,” for word. Months passed before the bottles arrived. From afar, they resembled porcelain crumbs descending through the clouds. We uncorked the bottles that carried his voice, eager to hear our departed patriarch. The only sound was contorted, ghastly screams that lasted a thousand days. Something in the beyond took hold of Archibald Crane.
By Derrick L.12 months ago in Fiction
McCallister's Gift
McCallister’s Gift By Derrick L. The touchtone keypad at the front door chimed behind Alistair’s ears as the sound of the electronic lock disengaged. The scrape of metal on metal echoed as the door latch slid across the strike plate. The thump of polyurethane boots clunked against the linoleum floor; someone was standing in the threshold of his home.
By Derrick L.about a year ago in Fiction
The Despotic Vial
My thumb pressed the plunger down. Every inch of skin bubbled underneath as if my blood began to boil, as if my body tried to escape its leathery shell. The thought of Nandi crosses my mind for the umpteenth time to the point where I imagined her tiny, childlike smile appear. She is nine years old again, the innocent laughter of youth echoing between my ears as she hops and skips on the chalked pavement in front, stretching out her hand towards me. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes as I failed to grasp her hand, wincing at the thought of all the times I have let her down. The illusion persisted, no matter where I looked Nandi would remain in sight. She is older now; still bearing the signs of adolescence on her face. She glowers down at me as I collapse on the epoxy floor of our old apartment. Her mother stands in the threshold of the doorway, bags packed by the door, she grabs Nandi’s hand and drags her away. And just like that, she disappears again for one last time.
By Derrick L.2 years ago in Fiction
The Black Spire Sting
Five hundred meters, six hundred, eight. The protective goggles display alternated between the altimeter and the date and time. Radiating green, January 6th, 2020, and 0100 hours flashed bright enough to dry the tears in my right eye. While my left remained an afterthought of no bodily concern, not anymore. It would be a good idea to adjust the brightness, but a heavy heart sank deep in my chest - there is no time for that now. A buildup of strain begins to seep through to the corners of my skull, increasing along with the altitude, another symptom of pre-job jitters. My inner monologue suddenly voiced itself, a sign that my limits have been tested, or maybe, a sign that something is about to go wrong.
By Derrick L.2 years ago in Fiction
Psychosis of Style
Abe opened his eyes in response to a vibration that tickled his auriculotemporal nerve. He saw an image of the daylight sun, breaking through patches of clouds. Behind them, a blue-sky hinted feelings of warmth that resonated within him. Abe furrowed his brows as he struggled to remember the last time he saw the serene blue sky. In his reminiscence a moment of bliss emerged, he felt numb and weightless as if he were in flight. As the seconds drew past, an abrupt chill of cold steel pressed upon his back. Abe blinked twice upon realization that the source of light came from a dental operatory light above and the clouded sky was merely blue smoke that appeared to emanate from the sides of his head. Alarmed, Abe did what any person would have done, he panicked. A wave of adrenaline washed over him that began at his toes and ended at the top of his head. He tried to thrash his arms and legs, but the result was the same, Abe was trapped. A shadow shrouded him as the light was eclipsed by a silhouette that hovered over from his right.
By Derrick L.2 years ago in Fiction
The Beast with 21 Faces
I. Above the blood-spattered glass, a digital clock flashed a neon green light, searing my sleepless eyes. Midnight has struck again. A sudden squeal from a squeegee caused my skin to crawl. An aging janitor with a warty face stands on the other side of the two-way mirror, wearing a blue jumpsuit with an orange collar and the name of the company stitched on the front. With his tongue sticking out, he reaches up high for another pass. I stand there looking at him through the glass. My mind began to wander, taking me back twenty-four hours ago.
By Derrick L.2 years ago in Fiction
Debt Cleanup
If a picture has a thousand words, then a life would be priceless. Except in 2020, everything has a price. Shigeko Oe, nineteen, a hitter for the bosozoku gang, the ‘Banzai Bangers’ understood this quite well. It didn’t matter what needed to be taken care of, Oe would be the first on the call list. The streets whisper her name in fear of crossing her path. They call her ‘Hannya’, as the last thing you see is her sadistically sharp smile. Her reputation for being a cold-blooded killer has garnered attention across New Chiba. Everyone knows the ‘Hannya’ demon girl and her hunger for blood and coin. Oe like many children was once an innocent child with wondrous goals and dreams. And like dreams, they end. She was no different. Chewed up and swallowed by this vile city. The child became just like all the others, another product of vice. Who could blame her? In this city of corruption, the streets starve, and well, a gal’s gotta eat. As the weight of her name continues to grow, one thing remains clear, Oe is untouchable, and nothing could possibly break her.
By Derrick L.3 years ago in Criminal
Sub-light Fries
Smoke geysers, ash clouds, and the smell of burning fat. I stood under moonlight as the flakes of grease stuck to my skin. I blinked twice. Every time it became harder to see, my eyelashes thick with soot, irritating me to tears. My sight returned and in front of me stood a young woman with alabaster skin, her hands held tightly in mine. I rose my eyes to meet hers, consciously memorizing every detail of this stranger. She had rolled up sleeves, part of a brown wool sweater. A warmth washed over me. I couldn’t shake this sudden feeling of familiarity. The woman gave me a smile that in an instant, transformed into a frown and she shouted in a deep voice, “HEY STARGAZER! ORDER UP!”
By Derrick L.3 years ago in Fiction