Nocturnes

By S.C. Donnelly

Anchorhead Station. Situated far out in frozen tundra, surrounded by white dunes and smothered by snowstorms, the miners here have spent the last five years drilling for Azoth, the lifeblood of Roanoke City.

Only one last dig remains before the men can throw down their shackles of isolation and rejoin society—yet the hubris of one may become the downfall of all.

Nocturnes is a novella and is the first instalment of The Broken Adventure series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.C. Donnelly
• Release date: Aug 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005304720

S.C. Donnelly

Northern Irish writer. Lover of all things horror.

Book preview

Nocturnes

by

S. C. Donnelly

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: The Prim and Proper Raven

Chapter 2: The Choir at the Storm

Chapter 3: Preludes of the Tattered King

"For I knew that the King in Yellow had opened his tattered mantle and there was only God to cry to now."

Robert W. Chambers, The King in Yellow

Chapter 1 — The Prim and Proper Raven

The frozen tundra extended to the horizon in all directions and further beyond. Its sweeping landscape of white dunes smothered by a snowstorm that endured relentlessly, without end, and with such ferocity that life did not dare grow and the sun refused to ever rise.

One’s assumption would be that this sterile hellscape would offer no reason for any man to venture into its frozen abyss; yet the Concilium, unable to leave any matter up for assumption, sent a group of prospectors out into the tundra in search for their most coveted of minerals, Azoth—the lifeblood of Roanoke City.

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We’re nearing a gas vein! The foreman yelled, shouting over the deafening cascade of pistons slamming and steam-pipes whistling, And I want to leave on my terms—not blasted off this frozen hell-hole because of a bunch of halfwits who can’t ease up on the torque converters!

He scurried through the bowels of the drilling rig, barking orders at men covered in grime who slid greasily from valve to valve, turning winches and pulling levers within the metallic vascular system of sinewy pipes, all the while navigating the jets of steam that blasted their surroundings.

The foreman made his way to a wooden staircase nestled out-of-sight within an alcove amongst the heavy metal walls, anxiously skipping every other step before coming to a stop a few steps short of a large port-hole door directly ahead.

He turned to face the men. I want that drill bit out of that hole before nights end! I don’t care if you have to sleep standing or piss yourselves to get it done…and if all goes well, by this time next Spring, you’ll be home to your wives quicker than their lovers when you first left!

He was