E.N. Gussler
Bio
Writer. Photographer. World-traveler. Adventurer. Ohio State Alum.
A California native living in Ohio, I pull inspiration from my travels & life around me.
Co-creator: VoyagersPen.com
Stories (9/0)
Run
The sun was just coming up over the mountains as the low fuel light came on and Penelope dug through her black bag for her last cigarette. She was going to need to pull over soon. Her ass went numb three hundred miles ago and she needed to pee. Leaving her cigarette dangling from her lips, she rummaged through the center console for a lighter and looked in her rearview mirror at her smeared eyeliner and messy hair. She took a long drag of her cigarette as she lit it and tossed the lighter onto the passenger seat. She exhaled, watching the smoke swirl around her eyes and into her ears in a comforting cloud before reaching for the hand crank to roll down her window. The air was crisp and blowing snowflakes huddled together on the side of the lonely road. Ahead she could see the dull glow of the faded neon lights of a service station. As she drew closer, her 1984 Ford Fairmont began to shudder, begging for fuel.
By E.N. Gussler4 months ago in Fiction
Spell of Flame & Sea
The fading embers of daylight reflected in the young ones eyes, captivating Drayce. Breath hung heavy in the air around them as the child peered at him, quizzically. Urgent rustling of leaves, angry voices growing louder, the breath slowly released from his lungs. Only then did the little being slowly blink, and a ribbon of fear laced through the angelic face. He had to act quickly if he was to save her.
By E.N. Gussler4 months ago in Fiction
Home
Like the breath of death upon the back of my neck I feel the burning warmth of winter, stretched out before me, as it crawls up my fingertips and settles into my bones. There is something indescribable about the thundering silence of a snow blanketed scene. Its expanse, a limitless suffocation, frozen in place.
By E.N. Gussler5 months ago in Humans
Touched
“Stop him!” As the smoke cleared, they saw me. I turned and ran as far and as fast as my legs would take me. Round corners, past shops, between mothers clinging to their baskets, stepping away from me as I ran through the crowded market. My worn-out shoes caused my heel to make contact with the hot earth, my breath stinging my lungs, gripping the small token in my hand I ran towards home. I could see it just ahead as I came around the old factory wall, our three room cracker-box house with the sunbaked walls, pockmarked by the frequent dust storms. It was the largest in our row. Suddenly I’m whipped around, stopped in my tracks by the tight grip on my right arm. I fight to break loose, the token goes flying from my hand and buries itself into the dust. In a heartbeat I’m surrounded by Enforcers, glaring at me from behind their shielded helmets, pointing at me with gloved fingers.
By E.N. Gusslerabout a year ago in Fiction
Get Your Kicks
At the end of a long highway stands a sign that reads “Santa Monica Pier”, welcoming visitors to the unique beauty of California’s beaches. Dotted with the stunning stretches of white sand, contrasted by the green and brown of rocky cliffs, the dramatic terrain is interrupted by precariously perched houses, scratching out a piece of sky and coastline to call their own.
By E.N. Gusslerabout a year ago in Humans
Alderton Estate
The quiet lapping of storm-tinged waves brush against the rocky edge. Burning through the heavy fog, amber fingers of sunrise force its retreat from shore. Mist hangs between the trees, casting an eerie glow across the grounds leading to the house. Sinewy strands of shadow claw at the gravel driveway, flanked by overgrown trees.
By E.N. Gusslerabout a year ago in Horror
