…that which is featured:
Just Stick The Landing
a short story by Leasia Korbel
“Faelwen, a half-elven orphan with nothing to lose, descends into a dragon’s lair to steal a legendary sword, only to discover things are not what they seem.”
Just stick the landing.
Master Adan’s advice echoed in my head. His voice, raspy and frustrated, even though he tried to hide it. Odd what you think about at the end of your life.
It wasn’t my life flashing by. Just his frustrated voice after my tenth failed round off, as he waved his weathered old stick around in a frustrated loop, trying to stay calm.
Just stick the landing.
I looked up to see Jek’s face, red from exertion, his knuckles white against the dark rope, peering down at me from the mouth of the cave opening, both of his hands gripping the rope he’d let slip. Next to him, Annice had let go completely, covered her eyes, head pressed into his shoulder, hiding from the inevitable.
What she wasn’t doing was helping him take up the slack.
I hung upside down, my leg wrapped in the rope, heart hammering through my chest. I was now prey instead of predator, staring at the largest sleeping reptile I’d ever seen. I have delusions of grandeur, I thought as I gazed at my impending doom. The creature’s jaws alone were longer than I was tall.
What the hell was I thinking?
I glared up at my friend’s profanities dancing on my lips. This job required extreme silence and stealth. I clenched my teeth till they ached.
If I got out of this, I’d thrash them both.
I turned and glanced down, surveying my new position. Somehow, I was still alive. Somehow, I needed to salvage this.
Below me, gem-encrusted weapons gleamed, half coated in dust and grime, centuries old and mostly forgotten. I inhaled. Must and the musky odor of the dragon permeated the air. The stench of rotten meat was even worse closer to the floor. I gagged. Everything screamed death. Yet I’d still climbed down this stupid hole. Delusions of grandeur indeed.
Silent as the grave, I pulled myself up, my muscles screaming as I did so. One hand grasped the rope in aching fingers, the other followed, ignoring the pain from my distended muscles. It was slow going, but I freed my leg and caught the rope between my feet.
Right side up again, I turned and gave a quick thumbs up to Jek and Annice, hoping they saw more confidence than I felt. My body was covered in sweat, and adrenaline coursed through me as my heart yammered at a dizzying pace. Annice jerked her hands up at me, mouthing, Faelwen, come back!
…of Verse & Vision
…that which is or may be learned or known
…these conversations we have about the process
In this episode of Ampocalypse, Damian FitzGerald is joined by Zia McCabe of The Dandy Warhols to explore the band’s upcoming covers album ‘Pin-Ups.’
You're reading Lowkey Hellish — essays on folklore, horror, philosophy, and the strange places where ancient fears meet modern anxieties.
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