The Final Nail: A Delirious Scribble

By Michael J Allen

Colonizing an alien planet is dangerous...

 

...moreso when you're pitting your will against a strange alien world without technology.

 

Man against a planet, the winner's obvious, right?

 

Sure, unless the colonists brought something with them even more dangerous than technology. Utosh isn't Sydney DeRaol's first anti-tech colony world. The skilled blacksmith has faced everything before - except for the demon's in his mind. Visions and nightmares haunt him. Colonists are dying, and he's been the last person to see each alive.

 

What if Sydney is the murderer? 

 

What if encroaching madness has warped Sydney into a monster?

 

Sydney races to save the colonists before whatever is affecting him finishes them all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Delirious Scribbles Ink
• Release date: Mar 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781944357580

Michael J Allen

Originally from Oregon, Michael J. Allen is a pluviophile masquerading as a vampire IT professional in rural Georgia. Warped from youth by the likes of Jerry Lewis, Robin Williams, Gene Wilder and Danny Kay, his sense of humor leads to occasional surrender, communicable insanity, a sweet tooth and periodic launch into nonsensical song. He loves books, movies, the occasional video game, playing with his Labradors - Myth and Magesty. He knows almost nothing about music. A recovering Game Master, he gave up running RPG's for writing because the players didn't play out the story in his head like book characters would - we know how that worked out. Suddenly fresh out of teenagers, he spends his days writing in restaurants, people watching and warring over keyboard control with the voices in his head.

Book preview

Delirious Scribbles Readers Group

Stay up to date on the latest book releases, promotions, giveaways, and a free story, please be sure to become a member of the Delirious Scribbles Readers Group .

The Final Nail

Asure, practiced swing of my hammer sounded a chilling, final note. The perfect swing drove the last nail in, its head flush with the dark wood. I ran a thumb over the nail, wiping away bubbling crimson sap.

I stared at the smear staining my oldest son’s coffin, somehow visible against the dark woodgrain. My throat tightened. Hairs rose along my neck. A shiver plunged the warm day into shadows.

It’s like this is my coffin, not Fredrick’s.

My vision narrowed until the stain became my whole world.

I could paint over the wood, but even whitewashed under multiple coats, we’d have only days to bury my son before the damned sap bled through once more.

I wouldn’t even bother if it weren’t for Ann.

I wiped another bead of crimson sap away from where the nail pierced the dark wood. I wiped my thumb, dried my tears, and mopped my brow with the same cloth. I turned away and stared into the cloudless, lime sky. I cursed the planet, the counsel, the job, even myself.

A shadow fell over me. Before fright caused me to leap too far, Ann crumpled into my arms.

I know, Ann, I know. He was a good boy.

My wife’s shudders shook me. Her head buried deeper into my chest in slow, tearful sweeps. No, Sydney, not Fredrick. Her voice broke. There's been another death.

I held my wife, her warmth insufficient against the cold dread guysering up in my core to suffuse my heart in ice. Go inside. Lock the door. I'll fetch Marcus.

My once unquenchably vibrant wife trudged away from me, bereft of even the life in her eyes.

What do I expect—her to skip around like a maiden collecting flowers? We’ve buried both of our children in less than a month.

An itch attached itself to my palms. Rubbing them together turned the itch into a burn that reached all the way to my gut. The fire rose with each stride across my lawn. A single sapling interrupted