Havok Publishing

Tag - Prismatic – Purple

The Man in the Purple Waistcoat

The clock ticked as Doctor K made a few perfunctory marks on her clipboard, then studied the hollow-eyed patient. “The man in the purple waistcoat… have you seen him again since the accident?”
The patient’s face spasmed at the mention. He shook his head with the short, sharp ferocity of a dog shaking

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The Little Inventor

The ornate front door of The Inventor’s house had a glass knob and engravings of vines crawling over the edges. I didn’t knock—there was no need. The Inventor wouldn’t answer, anyways. Mother had tried to convince him he needed an assistant to run the house, but The Inventor wouldn’t have it.

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More Than Stories

“Well, Gram, here’s to you.”
Kevin popped the cap off a bottle of beer and tilted the first sip of pleasantly bitter brew onto his tongue. Gram had never cared for alcohol much. That was probably Gramp’s fault—too many bad memories—but Kevin’s after-dinner beer tended to accompany reflection.
And tonight was

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The Glowing Purple Eyes of Doom

Halfway down 22nd Avenue, a linebacker wannabe nearly knocked me over. I twisted around him, threaded between a mother and daughter, and sidestepped a yapping fur ball. All the while, my focus never left the woman.
She stood with her back against a storefront wall, staring at me with purple eyes. Yep. Purple.

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Outweave the Gods

Twenty-four hours to weave garments fit for a queen. Arachne’s hands shook as a guard shoved her into the small weaving room and slammed the door shut behind her. She looked up at the massive heap of purple chaff just ahead, covering the shadowed floor in front of her.
This is what I get.

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Flair

Danil raised his binoculars to his eyes, scanning the buildings below him. From his perch in the clock tower, he could see the necessary details from a great distance.
Apartment 203’s curtains were pulled back, allowing him to survey a tidy living room. He panned his binoculars to a church across town.

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Hope Never Dyes

Olivia held a test tube up to the gray sky. Diffused light filtered through the greenish water. Please, let today be the day. She propped the glass against a rock and dug out a pack of litmus strips. “Maybe once the silt settles—”
“Probably not.” Mari’s hazmat suit crinkled as she walked past.

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The Ancients Return

Boom!
Christopher jumped up, knocking their board game off the kitchen table. He turned toward his sister, Paisley. “What was that?”
She shrugged. “Sounded like it came from outside.”
Rushing to the window, Christopher tore back the curtain of their third-story apartment and stepped onto the balcony. The view made him gasp.

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