Meredith Lee
Bio
Meredith Lee is a Queer fiction writer from the Pacific North West who loves to read and write Horror, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, and LGBTQIA+ inclusive fiction. they/them/theirs
Achievements (1)
Stories (11/0)
This is the Sound We Make
There weren't always Dragons in the Valley. The scriptures contain forbidden memoirs of a time before soldiers in the streets, in epistles that spark rebellion in the minds of the few who can read, and all those who listen to the blasphemous folklore carried down through generations. Subscribers to the Occult of Dsuena mark this time as the 217th year of Awakening from the control of Ušhumgal, the Great Beast. Those who claim that there never was a Slumber live in fearful service still, with no knowledge of the past, and no hope for the future. All in the valley are subjugated to the control of the Ušhuméren, the Dragon Soldiers; human as they are, their power is absolute.
By Meredith Lee2 years ago in Fiction
Sister of the Sikku
There weren't always Dragons in the valley. There are few alive who remember a time before the Awakening, when our streets were free of the Thunders of soldiers who walk among us now. We lived in soulless slumber then, with no need for patrols, or swords, to keep us at heel. We lived under the Diffraction, and our enslavement was absolute.
By Meredith Lee2 years ago in Fiction
How Lonely People Make This Life
Arun resettles his weight away from the mecha leg, and winces as the hardware pulls at his thigh. He knows he’s going to be aching by the time he gets back home. He tilts his head and adjusts his hood, holding the vial of pills up to the light. He wishes for the thousandth time that he had become a doctor, or a chemist, or something more useful to him now than an Officer of Forestry and, worse, a deserter.
By Meredith Lee2 years ago in Futurism
- Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge
When I'm Away From YouRunner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge
“Oh, god, this is–'' Alexis gags, dropping the damp owl pellet back to the barn floor. It isn’t the smell that horrifies her, or the gleaming sheen of digestive slime that clings to the small regurgitated mass, both of which she expected; it is the heat that is shocking, so pervasive and intense that, for a moment, she anticipated the fluttering pulse of a tiny heartbeat against her hand. She swallows, scrubbing the phantom sensation from her palms. She knows that the mouse is dead; nothing left of it now but indigestible fur and bone. She stares warily at the pellet on the floor of the barn, steam rising from it in delicate forms through the chilled night air.
By Meredith Lee2 years ago in Fiction
Know When To Hold 'Em
Every day after work, when the office emptied a rush of tired business-casual employees into the summer heat of the parking lot, Jean would sit in her car and wait. Last to arrive each morning, her rusty Suburban filled its usual spot at the end of the lot, shaded by the leafy birch that speared the sky between the downtown business plots of the small borough. She chewed at a shortened nail and watched the cars file out, and her coworkers shout goodbyes in passing. She waved, smiled, and waited.
By Meredith Lee2 years ago in Fiction
Their Little Princess
“Mom, can I get some mice, and a rat?” The women looked at each other over their daughter’s head, a silent negotiation waged between them as the six year old turned the pages of her Highlight’s magazine. Dalena set her coffee down as Megan lowered her laptop screen.
By Meredith Lee2 years ago in Fiction
All Our Times Have Come
“Oh, honey. Are you hurt?” Helen held out her weathered hand, moving carefully. The girl shook as she stared at the body sprawled on the cement between them. Blood pooled slowly around her sneakers as it seeped from the man, melting and absorbing the thin layer of fresh snow where it traveled. A smear of red trailed down her nose and across her lips, dripping from her chin and under the torn neck of her sweater. Helen stepped around the unmoving body and reached slowly for her.
By Meredith Lee2 years ago in Fiction
