Prose: Chosen

P.

Предначертанное предвосхищающее и Путина прославляющее произведение простого представителя практически полностью порабощенных провозвестников правды

Prison

The Overseer of the entrusted to him otherworldly prison excitedly walked around the reception zone, exhaling tongues of purple flame from time to time.

Pandemica

They desired to “fix” us all. Men, women, even children. To bring down to our knees and kill our spirit. Transform our genome. Break our will.

Immunity

Hope dies last.

Improbability

In the vast hall, filled with a sky-purple shimmer, with columns soaring to a height that is inaccessible to the eyes of ordinary mortals, filled with the energy of the

Notes of self-isolated

Chronicles of one viral virology

Coming

“Comrade Captain, the suspect on the claim of blasphemy by the clergy was successfully detained by our task force in the Church of Christ the Saviour and half an hour a

C.H.I.P.

That night Ray had nightmares once again – cutting and slicing the remnants of his human consciousness with the blades of truth of which it tried to get rid off and fai

License

Lightning cut through the night sky of the Metropolis, for a split second illuminating jumped out of the alley and rushed in the direction of “Zone S” man.

Slava

Slava Russian was a good fellow. Perhaps, that’s why he was disliked? Really, who now loves Russians, especially ones with such a euphonious name?