The Roommate (short fiction)

They were all dead. A room full of people I barely knew

It was all my fault. Understand, I wasn’t talking in the abstract. I wasn’t pulling one of those “If only I’d gotten here sooner . . . “ guilty hero moments. I was the bad guy. I’d killed them, and, sure, it’d been an accident, but I couldn’t claim to be a choirgirl.

My only excuse was that I hadn’t thought it would actually work. You find a magic spell on the internet. You mix the ingredients into a cake. You say the incantation. You leave the cake out where your mooching roommate will find it. You wait for nature to take its course.

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One of These Doomsdays, Chapter Three

The next day, the robots were back, and they appeared to have frightened off the zombies. The day after that, the zombies returned. And so it went, alternating between robots and the walking dead, separated by the days, refusing to mingle.

He’d mastered his robot survival technique a while ago, so those days were easy. It didn’t take long to figure out how to deal with zombies. They were stupid and slow, and maybe if he ran into a few dozen at once, he’d be in trouble. The most he ever saw was a group of seven, and they were pretty far gone, even for decayed dead people.  He spent several days learning what he could about the hungry dead because he liked learning rules and it was something to do.

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Citizen Drat (short fiction)

Empire City

Drats were something terrible. Small, deformed rats with wings, gills, and a venomous bite. The mutant rodents hadn’t even had the courtesy to replace the rat population because drats mostly ate inedible garbage and drank toxic waste. They were a nuisance that no one had been able to get rid.

Now Brenda was stuck in a room, trying to have a conversation with one.
This drat was three times bigger than most. Its wings were fully formed, which was unusual. Its red and blue fur had a few missing patches. It huddled in the corner, pulling its hat over its face to hide from the lights.

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Thin Line (short fiction)

Empire City

The corpse of the cyborg gigantobear lay wrapped in the dozen tentacles of the equally terrible, equally dead tyranosquid. Technicians had worked for an hour to separate the two monsters of science gone wrong before calling it quits. Now they struggled to load the two abominations into a transport for proper disposal.

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