Griffen Bernhard
Stories (4/0)
A Necessary Sacrifice
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Yet the Empress’s Shadow had it on the very highest authority that one would be born here tonight. And it was her sacred duty, the last order of her doomed Empress, to ensure it never drew breath. To cut the tongues and extinguish the words that would, in a moment of misplaced conviction, carry the final name of her people from memory to terrible, irreversible reality.
By Griffen Bernhard2 years ago in Fiction
Heart's Call
What I do is not, strictly speaking, urban exploration. At least, not in the most technical sense of the phrase. Yes, broadly, I do plumb the depths of old and moldering buildings and structures, but I like them quiet, isolated, distant. Far from the cities or even the suburbs. Out in the country or the woods, where everything is still half-wild, where decay is the natural state of the things we’ve built. Certain folks may quibble that what I’m describing is literally the essence of urban exploration, but there is no urban to speak of where I go. No suburban either. And besides, they’re not telling the story, so if I want to make broad, poetic statements about my hobbies, they can type up their furious complaints and counterarguments when I post this. Or they can shove them up their asses. I’m not picky.
By Griffen Bernhard3 years ago in Horror
The Only Choice
Josh Lam sits in the waiting room and tries, painfully, to catch his breath. His knee bounces. He scrolls through his feed, blind to the headlines and posts. A number in the corner of the phone pulses: Four. Four. Four. When he’d arrived this morning, the nurse at reception had smiled tightly and swiped the number over to his cell. It had been one hundred forty-seven then.
By Griffen Bernhard3 years ago in Fiction
14 Minutes
Josh Lam sits in the waiting room and tries, painfully, to catch his breath. His knee bounces. He scrolls through his feed, blind to the headlines and posts. A number in the corner of the phone pulses: Four. Four. Four. Four. When he’d arrived this morning, the nurse at reception had smiled tightly and swiped the number over to his cell. It had been one hundred forty-seven then.
By Griffen Bernhard3 years ago in Horror