Stories

Season 2 of Mythcreant Storytime runs every other Wednesday from September 11th, 2019 to January 15th, 2020. You can subscribe to the Mythcreant Storytime podcast on iTunes, Stitcher or with our xml feed: https://feeds.feedblitz.com/MythcreantStorytime

Story

The Familiar and the Frost

A couple rats rest on a woman's shoulder, under a witch hat

Camella the rat familiar perched upon the highest shelf of Witch’s cottage and stared down at the spy. Warlocks and wizards sent spies into the cottage to steal Witch’s powerful charms. But this wasn’t like any spy Camella had ever seen, not like the mechanical gnomes and flame sprites that warlocks and wizards preferred. Read more »

Story

Lost & Found

Cars covered in plants rust in the woods

Before you, the road forks in two wrong directions. One side bores through a tangle of trees, and the other heads off a cliff into the ocean. Neither fits your destination: a masquerade ball with a gushing fountain of melting chocolate. At this rate, you won’t get there before running out of gas again. You take the third direction – backwards – toward what looks like a station. Read more »

Story

Chaser of Shadows

A black cat looks on as small shadow creatures circle a teapot

We came alive when the clock rang one. Submerged in night, we were safe from the scorching rays of sun and burning beams of lanterns. We emerged from the cracks in the cupboards and swam through the crannies between the floor planks. Famished from our day of fasting, we slid up the table to taste the dying heat of the evening’s tea and gorge on warmth from the oven. Bolstered, we condensed into shadows of the night air. After that we played, but we heard well the chimes on every hour, and once we heard five, we shrank back into our crevices and slept. So it was before the beast came. Read more »

Story

The Death and Life of Turing

The silhouette of a face against numbers and circuitry.

I can’t tell you if I’m Riley Anderson, but I do have Riley’s memories. I remember squabbling with Amy over the blue dolphin eraser when we could barely walk. I remember sorting, labeling, and binding my fresh notebook paper before every school year. I remember sacrificing the same eraser, now broken, and the same paper, now used, to my graduation bonfire. And I remember learning that my lymphatic cells had stopped working so they could eat, drink, and be merry. Read more »

Story

Human Factor

A mothership in front of Earth

Major Sanja Khan fought the feeling that she’d been reduced to a weak, insignificant piece of herself. Disconnected from her craft during critical repairs, her own flesh and bones seemed alien. Her vision narrowed to her front side, making her back prickle as though something were creeping up behind her. Her thoughts were limited by the speed of electrochemical reactions, hazy and sluggish. Read more »

Story

Kelly and the Goblins

Conventional room with furnishings that are crooked, upside down, or at odd angles

Kelly emerged from the bathroom to discover all the furniture was upside down. Oh god, how could she fix this mess before John got back with his parents? He’d freak. He had planned every aspect of their visit precisely. He specified that the house had to be in perfect order and told her to wear the most conservative dress in her closet. But while she slaved over every eyelash, something had vandalized her careful preparations. Read more »

Story

Real Numbers

A military drone fires two missiles.

War arrived quietly every 2.5 years. After each peace settlement expired, the USR grew bolder, justifying the next conflict with more outrageous claims than before. International authorities became apathetic; allies no longer offered assistance. For years, Chancellor Abby Walsh wasted resources applying for aid. Now she simply scheduled a drone evaluation and stood before her monitors, ready for another fruitless attempt to remedy USR “grievances” through negotiation. Read more »

Story

The Dreaming Tree

The eyes of a person with a tree overlaid on their forehead.

Lithunsa was dying. The tree’s fabled voice, which once carried as many tones as the temple’s choir, had dimmed to soft cries. Through the long years, Lithunsa’s song had given Pao refuge from hurtful taunts, buoyed him when he felt worthless, and rejoiced with him on sunlit days. The tree was the only one who understood him, or cared to. Now he stood helpless as the leaves crumpled and fell. Read more »