The Kat Anthologies

After the Fall things changed.   Even once tropical areas where dense jungles prevailed turned to bitter ice and snow.  Creatures that couldn't adapt died, often including man.  The Fall also caused other changes.  Harsh environments pushed evolution in ways not previously seen.  Some say it was the radiation.  Some say this was just nature taking its course. The change was significantly more noticeable in dogs.  This was no longer a world fit for teacup poodles and chihuahuas.  Husky-like wolf dogs became more prevalent.  Likely nature turning back the clock to make them more like whatever uber-wolf first came down from the mountains and helped man hunt.  We now had a similar agreement again due shear will of shared survival.  Man's best friend became ever closer, and more intelligent. Unatsi was sitting by my feet enjoying the fire.  I'd been hunting with this animal since he was a pup that I found in a cave during a par...

I remember when this place used to be popular.  But now this pub has been driven into the ground by poor business decisions, poor reviews, and terrible service.  Desperation sticks to this place like my forearms stick to the bar.  I figured I could use a beer or two before taking care of unpleasant business.  Might as well be in the unpleasant carcass of this place.  The small rosewood box still sinks heavy in my pocket.  As if it's contents were made of lead rather than gold. I walk to the jewelry store down the street.  They know me here, but there's no need for greetings.  I silently walk up to the woman across from the counter and place the rosewood box down in front of her.  They've been in business so long  I'm sure she's seen the look on my face before from a 1000 or more men. Her: Get rid of it? Me: Get rid of it. She bags the contents like its evedence at a crime scene.  I guess metaphorically the situation represents the d...

"You're never going to find the lost city before us" the dark figure says in a slick voice.   I'm just coming back to consciousness.  A bit groggy.  Remembering how much head wounds tend to bleed.  The room is dark, with only one single light source.  A naked bulb hanging over the table I was seated at that looked so old Edison could have built it himself.  The dark figure's large brimmed hat casts a dark shadow hiding their face in the warm minimalist lighting.  It's at this moment I realize my hands are tied with coarse rope. "Seekers like you can rarely keep it together long enough to even find some of the first clues."  the dark figure continues.  "I'd rather dedicate my sanity to keeping that monster detained then let you cultists find him" I croak, my mouth dry.  Apparently I was out longer than I thought. "Seekers like you never know when to stop" the dark figure says in a lower register.  As if on cue a rather sizeable...