Gregory S Carr
Bio
Gregory S. Carr writes poetry, short stories, and plays. He likes historical fiction and science fiction.
Stories (2/0)
Feven and the Treasure of the Golden Vault
Feven and the Treasure of the Golden Vault A Sleeping Dragon Has Been Awakened There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. As a matter of fact, dragons hadn’t been seen in Abyssinia for hundreds of years. But lately, seven dark green dragons with yellow menacing wings circled high above Addis Ababa like vultures waiting to swoop down on its dying prey. There had been rumors that the Italian army was going to invade Abyssinia, but no one knew for sure. Perhaps these dragons were harbingers of the evil that was to come. Their presence should have stricken terror in the people of Addis Ababa except for one thing - they were invisible to the naked human eye. No one could see their green scaly bodies, their immense yellow wings, and their fiery red eyes except for one person – Feven. Feven was a precocious 12-year-old who loved sweets and sunny days, but not dragons. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the terror in the skies above them. The dragons flew in a circle around the sun, momentarily blotting out the light and creating a series of macabre shadows on the landscape. Feven’s mother Jamila saw her daughter staring into the sky, as if she were in a trance. Jamila touched Feven’s arm, but she didn’t respond.
By Gregory S Carr2 years ago in Fiction
The Nth Degree
The coldness inside the chamber was unbearable. Tiny intricate designs of frost painted the chamber like icy flowers. Small icicles hung like long witch-like fingers from the ceiling in hopes of falling upon a passerby. Frosty branches seemed to grip the walls as if the walls were caving in. In the midst of this frigid dungeon sat Captain Kokou. He was a large muscular African man with very large hands. Kokou’s green military fatigues were dingy and frostbitten, with small tears in the kneecap area of his pants and shoulder area. His greenish black combat boots were unpolished and had several cracks in them. Kokou’s dreadlocks cascaded over his face masking his eyes. Captain Kokou sat in a large black wooden chair in the middle of the freezing room. The chair was reminiscent of an old-fashioned
By Gregory S Carr3 years ago in Futurism
