As a terrifying new epidemic sweeps the planet, killing millions and bringing millions more back from the dead, it’s all John can do to keep Harry and himself safe, all he can do to cling to life and sanity as the world crumbles around them – while, on the other side of the globe, a certain consulting detective abandons everything he’s worked for in a desperate bid to return home.
Teaser for my fic The Dead Bury Their Dead
Coming Soon!
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ETA: Now on AO3.
I’ve been meaning to start putting up the little bits and bobs of writing from my current Creative Writing class, as the way this professor handles the actual writing portion of the course has really worked for me this semester. Here’s the first one, a bit of ofic based on a vague report from our campus police blotter, in which someone broke into the concessions stand at the baseball stadium, stole about $80 in coins from the vending machines, & then apparently made themself a batch of popcorn, and then left without touching the cash registers or any of the more valuable sports equipment.
She didn’t care to think about what was supposedly in the bottle, much less what sort of creature it had supposedly come from. She got the machine started – another process she’d had to google, right after researching how to deal with the thing slowly stretching its tendrils up her basement steps.
Sometimes he thinks he caused all of this: a grieving wish made over a fresh grave, a cry for life after death. Sometimes, his dream self stands over that grave and watches a pair of pale hands dig their way up through the dirt, watches them push the soil aside to reveal a dark head of hair, a white face, a pair of quicksilver eyes. Sometimes he’s whole as he climbs out of the ground and sometimes he’s undead. John’s subconscious can’t seem to decide which is the more effective instrument of torture.
