Kincaid Jenkins
Bio
Author of "Drinking With Others: Poetry by the Pint" available at https://redhawkpublications.company.site/Drinking-With-Others-Poetry-by-the-Pint-p470423761 and for purchase on Amazon.
Instagram: kincaidjenkins103
Stories (51/0)
The Ultra Violent Death Ray
"We have the bastard right where we want him!" For 22 years the heroic Lance McBoastful had been a thorn in the evil Dr. Vanquish's side. But now, after all their battles, Dr. Vanquish finally had his arch nemesis exactly where he wanted him, trapped under the rubble of his downed mechanical dragon, staring up at the face of death that was Dr. Vanquish's floating ship.
By Kincaid Jenkinsabout a year ago in Fiction
Priest Reese: Vampire Hunter
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. My German Shepherd Helsing was absently gnawing on something in the passenger seat but I was too busy keeping the truck from sliding off the road to give it much attention. We went left at the fork in the road knowing full well that the cabin was to the right and drove a little ways down so we'd be out of sight. It wasn't until I had stopped at a pass overlooking the cabin that I noticed what Helsing had between his teeth and paws. It was one of my wooden stakes which he loved to whittle down to a nub. He let a low, whimpering growl as I took it away from him.
By Kincaid Jenkinsabout a year ago in Horror
The Decorating Detective
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin where the murders were reported to have taken place. The cabin sat on a spacious twenty acres with a lovely one mile driveway through an overhanging canopy of trees. Plenty of room to hide bodies and far enough from the main road to deter trespassers. It was listed on the historic registry for being the former home of some obscure diplomat in the 1940s. Only a half hour drive from town, it was an off the grid location and considered prime real estate.
By Kincaid Jenkinsabout a year ago in Fiction
The Scaled Child
The child showed no fear as the shadow passed over it, cut through low hung clouds and returned to engulf this frail body in ultimate darkness. Indeed, the child merely reached out towards the leathery wings, the sharpened talons, the heat expelling from the nostrils. Sometimes the prey doesn't recognize the predator and this seemed to vex the dragon. It stood upright and beat heavy wings until the branches shuddered and the leaves fell. The child rolled backwards and came up laughing. The dragon, becoming enraged, tested it further, bringing one great golden eye within orbit of the child's face, blinking slowly until the lizard like iris revealed vague eons of a dominant species. The child merely saw itself in that domed reflection and smiled. The dragon sniffed at it to which the child let out a great sneeze, sending a gout of snot across the dragon's scales. It recoiled in disgust. It could eat this thing here and now and be done with it. It had done far worse for lesser transgressions. Yet something about this child made it appear bigger than the mere morsel it might offer the beast. It brought a claw down around the child, three talons encasing it like a prison cage. Then, careful not to tear the precious flesh of the babe, it scooped it up, clumps of earth and all and carried it through the air towards a cave in the distance. What sounds the child could be heard to make seemed almost joyous in nature.
By Kincaid Jenkins2 years ago in Fiction
