Posts Tagged ‘free fiction’

A Prayer to Saint Strelok – Part 5

Posted on December 6th, 2017 under , , , , , , . Posted by

Turned into a Five Act. What can I say?   Half the lights were out in the stairway. “The radio thing is down there?” Yuri tried to keep the reluctance out of his voice. Iosif switched his flashlight on. “Bottom floor.” The stark purple-white light carved his face in hard shadows, made him look ghoulish. … Continue reading “A Prayer to Saint Strelok – Part 5”

A Prayer to Saint Strelok – Part 4

Posted on December 6th, 2017 under , , , , , , . Posted by

Iosif rummaged through the musty cardboard boxes lining the plywood shelves. “Special Project 57,” he said distractedly. “I was a Junior Researcher.” Yuri swigged from his canteen and nodded like he knew what the hell that meant. He spat tepid water and motioned for Iosif to continue, trying for the ‘strong, silent’ attitude – not … Continue reading “A Prayer to Saint Strelok – Part 4”

A Prayer to St. Strelok – part 3

Posted on November 29th, 2017 under , , , , , , , , . Posted by

At first Yuri thought Sasha had given him the headache; a clip and a half of her painful chatter followed by his mad dash through the swamp, gulping down bog stench and terror. But that was almost an hour ago and the throb was only getting worse. Every step deeper into the Chernya was like … Continue reading “A Prayer to St. Strelok – part 3”

A Prayer to St. Strelok, Part 2

Posted on November 25th, 2017 under , , , , , , , , . Posted by

  It was worse than he feared, the Wet Valley. Clouds of bugs, calf-deep mud, and the rotten, low tide stink… Gah! It was so rank it burned the hairs in his nose. Yuri pulled his scarf up so as to not puke breakfast. Visibility was crap in the tall grass and the hiss of … Continue reading “A Prayer to St. Strelok, Part 2”

A Prayer to St. Strelok. Part 1

Posted on November 20th, 2017 under , , , , , , . Posted by

A bit of STALKER fiction: A PRAYER TO ST. STRELOK. The tourists were whining again. Not even fifteen kilometers in and the eggheads are complaining: they are out of breath –  their feet hurt – the packs are heavy – when is the next stop so we can rest? Hadn’t he, Yuri Bonyev, always the … Continue reading “A Prayer to St. Strelok. Part 1”