faith
-
mortimer graves and the witchfinder’s sister.
He never wakes up screaming, because he didn’t scream. He never wakes with a start, because he wasn’t startled. Continue reading
-
gorm the witchfinder: gormless.
It hadn’t really been his name yet – just what people called him. There wasn’t a definition there, a set of beliefs and perspectives and experiences to attach to it, to make it his. It was just a sound that… Continue reading
-
gorm the witchfinder: fracture.
Faith doesn’t shatter – it fractures, a bit at a time. Cracks will lurch and twist and snarl their way into tangled starbursts along the surface; eventually, they will reach deeper. Only when the foundation is truly rotted through, held… Continue reading
-
gorm the witchfinder: sanctimony.
The woman is sat, wounded, against a godawful altar – a haphazard stack of bloodied bones and wood, arranged to perilously support an open, thin tome. The book shivers and twitches like a living thing, the pages whipping back and… Continue reading
The Chez Dispenser 