Alien Tongues ~Humans Spines Book Two~
  • Reads 1,664
  • Votes 225
  • Parts 12
  • Time 2h 8m
  • Reads 1,664
  • Votes 225
  • Parts 12
  • Time 2h 8m
Ongoing, First published Jan 01, 2019
The sequel to HUMAN SPINES, a 2016 Wattys winner!

It's been seven months since the Opaque struck the desert and ravaged the Demon's caverns. Seven months since the Reaper-Mother gave up. Seven month since Dumaine last spoke to Emmeline. Seven months since Hans died.

Huddled in a house perched on the crest of a mountain so remote only Demon's come to visit, Dumaine has come to learn a simple lifestyle. Expect nothing (except the daily drop ins from rampaging gangs of bloodthirsty Translucent), and accept everything (especially the learning opportunities provided by the aforementioned Translucent's resulting corpses).

But while time seems to have frozen for Dumaine as he waits for Emmeline, it lurks forward beyond their snowy alps, creeping toward the shadow of the Opaque's threats until one evening they find five human strangers hidden in their home. And one of them is dead.
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The Ballads of The Skeleton Crew

33 parts Ongoing

The boy had never been scourged by dread, not really, untouched still of startling agony to become his reality. He spotted the imposing cliffside meaning to change that by mere accident, kept in defiant remembrance still of this heavenly music descended upon Earth from Heaven, magnificent, majestic and entrancing, this blue ship which had came last night to conjure mystery and great brilliance vibrating with splendor and glory born, like summer sunshine brought unto gloomy night, unlike anything ever heard of. He paused in thought to look at what was dangling from these rocketed walls, instilled immediately by mortal agony. What encountered him there was awful, horrific, spun from his nightmare to turn to atrocious truth. They left a message for him, these strangers, a message for all mankind. All the people from the town were nailed on the colossal rock with obsidian spikes the size of fists, hidden in the darkness as horror always lurked there within. Blood, everywhere. The spikes ripped skin open, tore their bodies apart to let it be a grotesque image, the self-portrait of Death itself. Stiff pale limbs, grossly tangled together, a myriad of heads decorating empty space. A few mutilated legs and arms lay motionless on the bottom of it, of the mere terror, the waves had yet to reach and clean the crime scene, crimson rocks and red sand carnation furthermore. The details swam and blurred his view. He was thankful, for a glimpse sufficed a lifetime. When the dark ship came, it didn't only warn the people of the Destruction following behind, they carried it themselves, bestowing it willingly and with intent, purpose, unknown and arbitrary as it may seem regardless. People rumored among their crowds that they were in fact the cause, the real Bringer of Death. The Harbingers of Cruelty. The Black Squad, Side of Doom. Known perhaps better by their most famous name, the Skeleton Crew. _ updated irregularly, because life is hard