Online Exclusive Serial Novella Series
Niko is a mushroom popping, universe jumping, future scientist with an attitude problem. Jay is her cyborg—kind of. Follow their travails. Part of The Mirror Series.
Trigger Warning—Rating Mature: Yes.
Chapter Seven – Policy of Truth “This is not a Dawson’s Creek reunion,” Jay told them as they walked. The former tracks looped into a particularly severe crevice that climbed towards the sky like a tear in the mountain. Small sounds echoed and amplified within like a pyroclastic blast. They exited into more grayness and the acrid stench of vinegar, formaldehyde, and sulfur. The wind didn’t purge the smell, only intensified it. The ash began to fall shortly after. The […]
Chapter Six – The Song Remains the Same They climbed the slippery bank to the now defunct railroad tracks and headed south. The steel from the tracks and spikes gone, torn up for scrap metal long ago before any war. The path dissimilar—doubled, tripled, cloned, and yet incomparable. Variables emerged; some noted—others banished to the empty where exhaustion ruled. Crossing the trestle or the creek was not an option. Not that she would ever want to with all manner of […]
Chapter Five – Controversy They argued. It was nothing serious, but still—they argued. Right before. Without exception—they always argued; it was some kind of teenage hillbilly ritual, these arguments. Something that seemed ridiculous and strange standing amongst the ruins now. Before though, at the swimming hole, Jay remembered debating about what to listen to next after Duran Duran’s Seven and the Ragged Tiger. Cody wanted Def Leppard’s Pyromania or AC/DC’s Back in Black for the umpteenth time while she wanted […]
Chapter Four – Bad Reputation Being the outsider—the city girl from Charleston—Jay had the fun toys, the funky music, the strange clothes, and the smart mouth. She spent the first twelve years of her life somewhat secluded deep in the hills thirty minutes outside of Charleston, three hours south of here. Still, she was considered far too citified for these folks. In the mountains, Natalie and her family grew and canned their own food and used an outhouse that reeked […]
Chapter Three – Runaway Wrapped in the bowels of summer heat and humidity, that day in 1984 started like any other in the armpit of the West Virginia mountains. Jay remembered it vividly like it was just this morning—because it was. “This looks like shit-covered maggots,” she told Cody. Adding a gob of butter, she took a big bite of the chocolate rice he made for breakfast. “I heard that,” Aunt yelled from the next room then told Jay to […]
Chapter Two – Back in Black Several minutes went by before the pain and pleasure abated and Jay focused. On all fours, naked, wet, reeking of the polluted mud and creek, she looked into their eyes. She saw hardness and hate, grief, anger, and exhaustion—and years of struggle from a war no one wanted. Some did; she wasn’t one of them. They did what they had to to do in order to survive—to be free. She rose to her feet, […]
Chapter One – New Moon on Monday Duran Duran’s New Moon on Monday played from the black boom box creekside. The beat echoed around the short banks of the large swimming hole. Heads back, fingers skipped over the water like gulls’ feet. The six teens floated on tubes in silence listening to the tunes. The brief occasional exchanges between them went silent when the surroundings began to alter. Isolated above them, the sun disappeared into an ashen ink blot in […]
Potent and WornPeyton Marlow fresh and newcome again, this wari climbedi surfacedyet another encore potent and wornthis body, this whoreit mendsit breaksin this, we’re born flay the skinthem, the saboteursthey reekthey paleand live no more fade and decaytrue pain, be schooledhe screamshe criespacks be ruled flesh of menplague, we chewwho bowswho breakssisters, cleave through silence of exitsrelease, to cravethat gracethat guilecurse the behave in this we chargeand armed, we riseeach, we achieveeach, we conquerdaughters, we comprise By Pamela MullinsCopyright © […]
© 2020 Pamela Gay Mullins