"Pandora’s box is more comparable to a Russian nesting doll. Every layer is a new temptation each with its own set of consequences each more ominous than the last."

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Zuruck Zur Mutter

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The launch pad was built on a pedestal that loomed in the center of the colony like the enigmatic temples left by extinct societies that litter the revered home planet.  It had become hollowed ground.  A sacred refuge from the encroaching desolation of the industrial graveyard where the cannibalized corpses of mega complexes quietly decomposing.
 A ship stood vertically at the very center of the smooth summit like a colossal ornament that pointed towards their native home in the stars. Construction of the towering ship was near completion. The pilgrims gathered around the glowing site to bask in its light. The ship’s idling engines breathed a stream of fire scorching the platform. Tremors emanated out from under the growling titanium behemoth.
The sacred site was the backdrop for the final sermon delivered by their prophet. He stood on an evaluated stage built in front of the elevated launch pad. Painted on the wall behind him was a mural of a blue orb with green amoeba-like shapes s…
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3D Dead

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This story was included in Grey Wolfe's newest paranormal themed anthology! If you're a sucker for macabre tales of vengeful spirits and blood thirsty night stalkers this book is for you!

http://www.greywolfeshop.com/store/p94/Legends%3A_Paranormal_Pursuits_2016.html

Deep within the concrete catacombs of Gabor Labs, a renowned research institute just outside of Boston Professor Gilbourne was working feverishly on his new obsession. It was a project that eclipsed anything else in his life in its importance. The thirty-nine-year-old professor was conducting a series of experiments meant to bring back the dead by illuminating the alleged metaphysical forms said to inhabit a plane of existence inconceivable to the living. For the last seven months, he spent every waking hour he could locked away in the lab. Breathing the sterile air and constantly immersed in the electrical buzzing emitted by the menagerie of machines he was working with. He had recently lost his mother to cancer. H…
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Where Does the Time Go?

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“Old age is the most unexpected of all the things that can happen to a man.” ― Leon Trotsky The phone hammering against the nightstand accompanied by a high pitched digital jingle was Mitch’s wake-up call and his notice the time allocated for sleep had officially come to an end. He opened his eyes and moaned his disdain for this century's version of roosters and church bells.
Mitch rolled out of bed and meandered into the kitchen.
“Ah, shit.” He grimaced while taking his first step onto the cold kitchen tile from the relative warmth of the plush carpeting. In the midwest during winter 6:30 am is as dark as midnight. Mitch opened the refrigerator, and the yellow light spilled out into the room. He reached for a half empty gallon of milk on the top shelf. He studied the plastic container with squinted eyes.
SELL BY 2/7/2017. That was only two days away. Mitch congratulated himself for thinking to use the remainder of the milk before it spoiled.
He poured the milk over the cereal an…
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