The Demoness of Chengdu

A steel blur ran through the Gansu barrens. Across the aisle, a young man sat down, then absorbed himself in a book. Tall, sandy-haired, radiating a Scandinavian ease. Dane, judging by the worn flag patch. He was handsome, oh... really handsome. No, don't think that. Don't think about it. A treacherous, unwelcome warmth bloomed in Dylan’s belly, a demanding feeling with a life of its own. It was Jin Fen.  The body rebelled. Muscles not designed for the coming new frame spasmed uncontrollably. A wave of giddiness,  her giddiness poured out. Full sentences broke into Chinglish shards. No more look at sand, boring to death. Finally nice man here! He felt dizzy, empty-headed, and horny, absurdly so. Reduced down to a caricature of desire. It had sounded so romantic. He was between jobs, a history graduate. Seemed good for the  resume back in Canada . Ancient trade routes, Buddhist grottoes, Border deserts. Instead, he’d lost everything at that back-alley bazaar in Dunhuang, l...

 The repetitive thump-thump-THUD of a soccer ball striking the cinderblock wall vibrated through Sam’s desk. He flinched, snapping his mechanical pencil lead against the dense organic chemistry formula on his notebook. Dark smudges stained the page where his finger had dragged across it in frustration. Outside the window, adjacent to his university's apartment-style dormitories facing the field, laughter erupted. Sam rubbed his temples. He’d chosen this room specifically – close to the library, away from the louder frat rows. He hadn’t accounted for the adjacent soccer field used obsessively by the college team, or his specific sensitivity to rhythmic bass-like pounding.  Who plans something like this anyway? The dorm security made excuses for them, not a bit of support for him. Oh you should stay out later? Why are you in the room so early? Didn't they realise how demanding this subject was? What's that? A darn college is made for sports not for studying? Of course! My log...

(Human Paladin to Drow Female Sorceress)   Methur's footsteps echoed for untold distances, his mind struggling to fill the absence of the other senses. Finally he found it. The Paladin in the sun-etched plate approached the altar carefully. This was the experience he needed. How could they doubt his dedication to the order now? Evil artifacts were everywhere in the Upper Dark and the Drow were always patrolling close by. He began chanting a cleansing spell. Dark ichor bled from its edges, but he remained in prayer. In an instant, he felt like he’d been impaled through his back as he was lifted up on the spot. What was this? Gods, arghhhhhh. His blue eyes flickered. Fight... someone was trying to overwhelm his divine magic barrier.  “Our pact is fulfilled Drow. I kept your memories. Now let me fight the Blood War in peace.” The almost bored devilish voice said. The altar shattered into pieces. “But remember we will have you eventually. Despite your persistent efforts.” He felt ...