Matthew R. Stitt // The Writer’s Archive

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  • The Bite and it’s Rage

    “Gaaaa.”  A mass of fur and human parts wrestle in the dirt as they strive to best each other.

    The human, clothing torn, places both hands on the fur covered werewolf and pushes.  The human wolf hybrid tumbles down a small ravine.  “Scott,” the human shouted as he watched the werewolf tumble.  “You don’t know what’s your doing.  The beast is taking over.”

    The werewolf slowly gets up.  Sticks and leaves attached to his fur.  “You slept with my wife, Eric!”  He shouts.

    The human stood over the edge of the ravine.  The revelation shocked him.  His childhood friend stood three feet below him, covered in fur.  His face grotesque and extended outward into a canine-like jaw.  The muscles in his shoulders twice the size of the human that is still within him.

    “I did not,” Eric replied as convincingly as he could.

    “You liar,”  Scott shouted back and began to walk back up the ravine.

    “You stay down there.  You are not coming near me again,” Eric warned.  Scott negotiated through the young trees and loose gravel.  He approached the edge of the ravine when Eric attempted to kick him.  Scott grabbed the human’s leg and pulled forward.  Eric fell hard to the forest ground.  Scott dug his claws into the dirt and leaves and climbed from the ravine.

    “We have been friends since third grade.  I trusted you.”

    Eric kicked dirt upward but it deflected harmlessly off the werewolf’s body.  “I didn’t do anything Scott.  I didn’t.”

    Scott grabbed Eric’s shirt and held tight.  With enormous strength he lifted the five and a half foot man to his feet.

    “She told me,”  Scott said rage pulsing through dark, crimson veins.  Scott then tossed Eric into a tree several feet away.  Eric struck the tree square between his shoulders and fell to the side.

    He didn’t move when Scott approached.  Scott wanted to check to see if he was ok but the rage overwhelmed him and he picked him up again.  The human’s spine snapped and he could feel the life drift away.

    Scott cried, alone over the body of his best friend.

  • New business cards :)

  • Romance in a World of Horror

    “Jason, you shouldn’t be here,” Amy whispered as the too young lovers hid behind a tree in the back yard.  “You didn’t see what my father did to a Hawkin the other day.  He’s becoming insane.”

    Jason leaned back on his heels, looked toward the back porch and then back to Amy.  “I don’t care what he does too me.”

    “But… I do.”

    “I get that,” Jason replied.  “but I can take care of myself.”

    Amy frowned.  Her concern was noticeable even in the darkness.  Jason held her face gently.

    “My Amy… this world as twisted and dangerous as it is still evolves but love stays the same.”

    “If that’s how you think then meet my parents.”

    Jason stepped back.  He stammered all attempts to hold strong disappeared.  Fear evident in his hesitation.

    Staring out the window of the house Paul watched as the shadows in the yard stood silently talking.

    “They will be ok, Paul,” said Stacy as she approached.

    “Will they,” he replied sharply.  “This isn’t pre-invasion earth anymore.  Nobody is safe.  Even if this boy… um… Jason isn’t some shape shifting monster how are we going to protect any more kids.  He is almost a man.  He has reckless passion.  I can’t protect my daughter from the monster and influence of this boy.”

    Stacy placed a gentle hand upon Paul’s shoulder.  “She is becoming a woman too.  We can’t protect her from everything…”

    Paul turned from the window and stepped to the door.  He slowly opened it.  Stacy protest but he ignored her.  She didn’t know for sure but she felt no reason to worry about her sometimes irrational husband’s actions.  She watched from the covered back porch as Paul approached the couple.

    “Son,” Paul began.  Both young adults leapt straight.  Paul had interrupted a kiss.  “I caught you before you ran away this time.  For a young man that wants to be brave for my daughter you are cowardice.”

    “Dad, don’t hurt him.”

    “I’m not going to hurt him,” Paul replied.  “You love my daughter?”

    Jason pawed at the ground with his black, military boots.

    “Have you done your mandatory time in the service yet?”

    “I have not, sir,” Jason said.

    “How are you going to promise anything to my daughter when you may not make it through the service?”

    “But… sir…”

    “I don’t want to be a ballbuster here son,” Paul began.  “The world is not for the Romantics anymore.  Romance has no place inside a world of horror and pain.”

    “I disagree,” Jason said as he straightened his posture and stared at the older man.  “You dare to call me a coward even knowing the facts that I suffered the most horror.  My parents and my sister all killed while I watched with axe in hand.”

    Paul tried to respond but Jason continued.  “Even after that horror I still have enough hope to speak to Amy every night.  Enough hope to stand here as you insult me and promise that your daughter will be happy with me as her husband.”

    Amy stood shaken by the promise of marriage.

    “You would promise to be my daughter’s husband in this world?”

    “What other world would I possibly be able to be her husband?”

    Paul stood quiet for a long moment.

    “You will have to live here with Amy.  How are your grandparents?”

    Paul directed the pair toward the house.  Stacy was thrilled to hear the news and invited Jason to dinner.

  • Short Story Sunday: The Alley

    Short Story Sunday: The Alley

    Juliette Kings's avatarVampire Maman

    Taking a short cut through a downtown alley wasn’t always like it was in the movies. He’d rarely witnessed crimes, or found dumped bodies among the dumpsters and rats. The smells were close to death but not quite. Urine and sun roasted garbage were the aromas of the night. No night-blooming jasmine for this short cut.

    Walking along he wasn’t afraid. There wasn’t anything to fear except maybe stepping on something disgusting he’d have to scrape off of his shoe later. But then he saw her standing at the end of the alley.

    Had she been a cat he would have taken her home, or found her a forever home, but she was not.

    “Hi Val,” she said in a girlish voice. She sounded like she was maybe twelve instead of twenty eight.

    “Nikki. You look good.”

    She looked good for Nikki. Val hadn’t seen her this clean, well, maybe ever. She’d been…

    View original post 1,011 more words

  • Young Harkin

    “Oh my Goddd…,” shouted Stacy as she tried to pull her husband Paul from the carcass of a large, pregnant Harkin.

    “What are you doing?  How is this helping!”  She shouted.

    Paul stood up and turned, covered in dark, oxygenated blood.  “This may not help you but it’s helping me.”  He suddenly saw movement within the abdomen of the beast.  A pair of legs struggling to move from under to crush of keratin.

    Paul cheered as he grabbed one of the thin, young legs.  He pulled and it yanked back.  “Oh no!  Your coming with me,” he shouted.

    The young insect fought as Paul dragged it out into the open.  From within the carved out bowl of blood and organs the small Harkin attempted to stand.

    “Paul, you need to stop.  The Pterodactyls are above us.  Paul!  They are going to eat us!”

    Paul ignored his wife and grabbed the axe, that lie, beside him.  He set it behind him but the little creature flipped to it’s feet.  Blood and gore hung from the sharp corners of the beast.  It clicked softly as it stared at Paul from opaque eyes.

    Paul swung the axe and stuck a front leg.  The Harkin squeaked as it tried to step back.  It’s right, front leg swung free of the joint.

    “Oh, believe me.  You are not getting away from me.  I don’t care if you are a young one.  I had a young one once,” he shouted.  “I had a young one!”

    Stacy began to sob and stepped back.  She watched as the Pterodactyls began to glide downward.  Paul raced around the body of the parent and screamed as he tried to prevent the smaller Harkin from escaping.

    The little creature was four-foot tall compared to twelve to fourteen foot adults.  It threatened to pierce Paul’s head with a pointed front horn but Paul jumped out of the way.  Paul reared back and swung the axe again contacting the hard body.  The blow pushed the insect over the side of the adult remains and onto the broken asphalt below.  It shook off the blow and stood simultaneously.  It stepped forward.  Paul was six foot tall.  Taller then the creature but intimidated.  Harkin were fierce fighters.  It was possible, even from a little one that Paul could be torn to pieces.

    Paul stepped back.  He carried a shotgun, as did many humans now, but it was near the truck fifty feet away.  He looked for his wife but she stood, terrified behind the drivers door.

    “You idiot,” came the thought as Paul stepped back again.  He watched as the young beast bounced to the left.  The broken front leg didn’t seem to set it off any.

    “Swing the axe,” Paul told himself but the bravery within his hands had disappeared as he dragged the axe in front of him.  The little Harkin leapt forward.  It’s armored horns pressed against the thin skin of Paul’s forehead.  Paul fell backward.

    Stacy stood across from the carcass and pointed the shotgun near the young beast.  She watched as Paul fell and fired.  The shot spread and pierced the thin armor.  The Harkin stumbled to the side then fell.

  • Max Wants You


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  • Shared from WordPress

    Cockroaches of the Space Time Continuum – http://wp.me/p2mGYO-3BN

  • Shared from WordPress

    Cold Hands, Warm Hearts – http://wp.me/p2mGYO-3k5

  • My First Novel: The End is Near

    Corey Truax's avatarCorey Truax

    broken house

    Well my fingers are weeping with joy as I am closing in on the end of my first novel, Wastelander: The Drake Legacy.  The book is a post-apocalyptic jaunt taking place 30 years after the nuclear fall of the United States.  A few more chapters and the first draft shall be complete! *maniacal laughter*

    I‘m approaching the seven month mark and it looks like it will be living in 80,000 word land.  Depending on your level of writing badassery/experience you are either saying, “Damn, it took you long enough to write 80,000 words,” or “Damn, I wish I could write 80,000 words in seven months.”  Probably the former.

    If you are in the latter category (I feel your pain), here are a few tips from an amateur cutting his teeth to help speed you along.

    write onRewriting completely derailed my progress.  I probably spent at least a…

    View original post 896 more words

  • Predatory

    “I wish we were back to the olden days,” Tracy shouted.

    Darrin watches as they drove farther and farther from the Reaper.  It stared at the Jeep as Darrin left.  It’s charcoal eyes looking toward the Red aluminum vehicle.

    “You wishing the monsters gone isn’t going to help you survive a world that has monsters.  I have also grown up in this world of ours.  You grandfather got to see the world when it was relatively peaceful.”

    “I can’t talk to Papa.”

    Darrin grimaced at the mention of his father’s nickname.  “Right, Papa has passed away.”

    “What are we doing, anyways,” Janice said from the passenger seat.

    “I need to see why that Harkin was in such a rush.  I’ve never seen one run, let alone walk fast.”

    “Your curiosity is going to get your family killed.”

    Darrin’s face got red, “my job remember?  I can’t go fight the war so I’m going to find a way to defeat these beast.”

    “Yea, Darrin the hero.  I recall?”

    Darrin was ready with a retort when his oldest daughter Sarah stopped him.  “What is that?”

    In front of them was a destructive scene, covered in blood and monsters.  A broken Harkin, it’s large, thin insect legs pointing skyward, sat in the center of the road.  A second Harkin stood over the body snapping at Pterodactyl diving into the remains.

    “I didn’t know they did that?”  Janice responded.

    “Neither did I.”

    “What do we do now, dad?”  Sarah asked.

    “I need to write this down,” Darrin pulled a notepad from the floor beside Janice’s feet and began to write.

    Janice’s nerves began to fray as she waited.  Outside the Jeep she watched as the Harkin struck one Pterodactyl and brought it crashing down into the trees on the right.  Another flew over the Jeep and spread it’s large claws.  It pulled open it’s wings and slowed till it was over the back of the Harkin.  It sunk the claws into the soft sections separating the hard keratin armor.  The Harkin immediately a long tail and pierced the Pterodactyl.  The flying reptile screamed and took off into the air only to fall feet from the Harkin.

    “Darrin, maybe we should of stayed home,” Janice said.

    “Can’t do anything about that now… wow did that just happen?  I’ve never seen a fight like this.”

    “Darrin, what is this coming?”

    To the right and between a set of trees the family could see a collection of beasts charging toward them.  They were small but large groups could batter the Jeep into submission.