THE NIGHTLY CHILL
By Steve Arviso
Enter: Fan Fiction Theater.
FIGHT THE DAWN!
As the sunlit sanity of the waking world burns the night to ash,
embrace the unbound madness of your wildest dreams,
laugh into the endless abyss of your darkest fantasies,
and rage against the coming dawn.
The Nightly Chill is the unstable experience of the mind and madness of Steve Arviso (@AmoralCrackpot). Mon-Fri. Ish.
- BETWEEN THE CRACKS
- FAN FICTION THEATER DOUBLE-FEATURE
- TRACK OF THE NIGHT
So, November exists.
BETWEEN THE CRACKS
I have been without you for so long. These minutes feel like hours. I dared to glance at a book I bought long ago, for reasons I still do not understand. I do not know what I am becoming. I dread the coming winter.
All work, no play,
PULPBUSTERS – THE SHADOW KNOWS
Adena’s lil’ audio love note to the (great) granddaddy of pulp vigilantes, The Shadow. Listen to it now on Spotify, sub to the PulpBusters audio feed, or even download a free MP3 of The Shadow Knows using the links below.
FAN FICTION THEATER – EVOLVING THE MARVEL UNIVERSE
EXT. PARADISE – DAY
A beautiful lake surrounded by wilderness, strange beautiful flora and fauna, small, large, and monstrous. On the land, in the water, in the trees, and flying through the air. This is a SAVAGE LAND.
A little TOADIE of a man leaps through the trees with ease and little grace, lands safely near the lake. Toad approaches, grovels. His MASTER bathes here.
Toad, I’m clearly busy.
But…but you asked me to let you know when it was over.
It’s–it’s over, Sir. The humans are vulnerable without their…
He chokes on his next word. It disgusts him to phrase it in such a way.
Silence. And then…
Shall I, uh…shall I gather your finest robe, Sir?
That won’t be necessary.
The Master RISES, like a GOD born from the water. His wet, SILVER HAIR shimmers in the sun.
Toad looks on in awe at the majesty of it all.
This is it, then. Your moment has finally come, Sir.
This is not my moment, Toad. It never was.
He dries himself by guiding every drop, every molecule away from his bod with a thought. He dresses himself in royal garb with a gesture.
A HELMET, simple but with some intrinsic design to it, gently travels through the air with only a thought. It settles atop the Master’s silver hair with ease. It was built just for him.
This has all been for the sake of our people.
Ah, now Toad understands. Sorta.
Every moment. Every hour. All for our people.
His master turns, displayed in full regalia. A leader. A king. MAGNETO is ready for his world debut.
FAN FICTION THEATER – RULING THE MARVEL UNIVERSE
Like it says on the tin. Fire. Brimstone. A large, demonic entity sits atop a throne of damned souls. It swallows the souls by the handful, like they’re candy. This Demon King doesn’t have a care in the world–any world, really. This is MEPHISTO.
It speaks to a SHAPE somewhere OFF-CAMERA.
Look, I’m going to shoot straight with you. You’re not the first person to come crying to me about their mommy, okay?
And despite what you might have heard, or read, or seen in your stupid little movies–honestly, you guys never do manage to capture my unique charm. It’s always so cartoonish or…whatever it was Pacino was thinking. There’s no nuance.
I don’t want your soul. That’s not yours to give. And I’ll have it soon enough anyway.
No, I want that one thing–that one small, little thing–that means everything to you. And, well, I already do have your sweet, dear ol’ mother, don’t I? So, I’ll ask this instead. Just one itsy-bitsy thing.
Mephisto leans in close, menacingly. And it smiles. However It can possibly smiles, it does that.
The Shape speaks. His voice is strong, proud. It echoes through Hell itself.
Mephisto CHOKES. It seriously can’t believe this. This NEVER happens.
What? No, this isn’t how it works.
Look, it’s very simple. You cry, beg, and kneel. Okay? And then, maybe–just maybe–I will reward your humble offering by giving you back what you wish for most. Got it?
Silence. And then…
Choose your words carefully, demon.
Mephisto EXPLODES. His KINGDOM explodes around him.
The Shape stands his ground, unwavering.
What man dare speak to Mephisto with such an insolent tone?!
The Shape steps forward. His cloak flaps wildly in the heated winds of Mephisto’s rage. His armor, which covers his body from head-to-toe, glistens in the light of the blazes of Hell. This is no mere man. This is an invading KING. This is VICTOR VON DOOM.
TRACK OF THE NIGHT
Dirty Heads (2016)
GRAND GHOULISH – THE E-BOOK!
Originally serialized in the digital pages of The Nightly Chill, Steve Arviso’s Grand Ghoulish collects the completed absurd twisted romance between a photographer, a housewife, and her husband–a surgeon who enjoys getting a little blood on his hands!
Read it for FREE in the back issues of The Nightly Chill, or directly support The Nightly Chill and other works by purchasing a copy of the e-book!
SUBSCRIBE FOR THAT WALK-OF-SHAME FEELING EVERY MORNING AFTER!
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YOU ARE NOT ALONE
THE NIGHTLY CHILL