The Chronos Bug
Some demons aren't Hell spawn. They're man-made....55 total reviews
Comment from c_lucas
Remind me never to read one of your post doing meal-time. This is very well written with a smooth flow of words, making for a very interesting read.
reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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Remind me never to read one of your post doing meal-time. This is very well written with a smooth flow of words, making for a very interesting read.
Comment Written 04-May-2014
reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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Charlie, never read one of my posts at meal-time. (LOL)
Ask, and ye shall receive, my friend. Thanks for having a look at this story, Charlie. I'm having breakfast right now myself. It's pretty darn tasty, too!
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LoL. Ask me about white pudding sometimes.
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Uh oh...what's up with white pudding, Charlie?
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On the Lewis and Clark Expedition, the explorers were served a dish the Interpreter called 'White Pudding.' Most enjoyed it. All were sick when they found out it contained small rodents and buffalo grass, fermented for months. A delicacy for the Indians.
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I left out a part. The large intestine of the buffalo was the container.
Comment from jmdg1954
Dean, I am not normally interested in these type of stories, but once I had you up on my screen and knowing you were the author, I gave it a whirl (pictures almost made me hurl). The photos added tremendous value to your post.
Again, you are the master of the unknown and the agonizing thrillers... John
reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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Dean, I am not normally interested in these type of stories, but once I had you up on my screen and knowing you were the author, I gave it a whirl (pictures almost made me hurl). The photos added tremendous value to your post.
Again, you are the master of the unknown and the agonizing thrillers... John
Comment Written 04-May-2014
reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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Thanks, John. Ironically, we must have been reviewing each others stories at virtually the same time. Now how weird is that, lol?
I've had this story rattling around in my head for quite some time. And while I didn't know it at the time, I was taking your grandson Ryder's advice, and puttin' my fin-gwas to da peuter to get it out there, ha-ha!
Thanks for the excellent review. Much appreciated.
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Any time my friend.
Comment from Mike Battaglia
Jesus H. Christ, sir...
In one chapter, you have not only sent the fear of the apocalypse reverberating through me like a runaway locomotive, you've done it with a cold, cold voice. I have heard of this parasite. It is any man's nightmare, and for you to have turned into one of your fiendish little tales only reiterates your talent for finding the macabre in the already horrifying.
You've left me no room to breathe here, sir. You grabbed me by the throat and forcibly yanked me into this tale. No long, slow rise up the roller coaster incline here.
Every writer has an apocalypse story floating around in their ether. I have mine, and someday it will see the page. But coming from you, Mr. Kuch, sir... it's almost an inevitability, and a delicious one at that. You state that this is chapter one of an eleven chapter novella. I shudder at what is to come.
You painted the opening scene brilliantly: idyllic, quaint, middle American town in the cusp of Indian summer, shattered by the horrible death throes of an innocent little girl. If that doesn't curdle the blood, then you have no heart. But you segue from there right into the cold, clinical world of the lab and the scientists that work there, bombarding me with doomsday scenarios and behind-the-scenes governmental paranoid malarky. You managed to set the stage within the action that was going on, leaving me no time to pause for breath. That is good writing, sir. Although, I dare say you have almost set the bar too high. When you start your story off with so much adrenalin, you have little room to come down and muse. But if anyone can pull it off, it is you, sir.
An absolute nightmare of a first chapter. The bug alone is horrifying (and, as usual, your accompanying photos make it all the more cringe worthy). You've opened quite a can of worms here, sir. One that I imagine has been festering in your subconscious for a long time. It reads far faster and more breathless than your usual stories. This will be a hard chapter to follow, sir; a very hard chapter to follow. But if anyone can pull it off, it is you. Bloody well done (pun entirely intended). You managed to give me goosepimples, and that doesn't happen very often anymore. I just love your writing, sir.
You shall never find me pissing in even a swimming pool, ever again.
Your true fan,
--Mike
reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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Jesus H. Christ, sir...
In one chapter, you have not only sent the fear of the apocalypse reverberating through me like a runaway locomotive, you've done it with a cold, cold voice. I have heard of this parasite. It is any man's nightmare, and for you to have turned into one of your fiendish little tales only reiterates your talent for finding the macabre in the already horrifying.
You've left me no room to breathe here, sir. You grabbed me by the throat and forcibly yanked me into this tale. No long, slow rise up the roller coaster incline here.
Every writer has an apocalypse story floating around in their ether. I have mine, and someday it will see the page. But coming from you, Mr. Kuch, sir... it's almost an inevitability, and a delicious one at that. You state that this is chapter one of an eleven chapter novella. I shudder at what is to come.
You painted the opening scene brilliantly: idyllic, quaint, middle American town in the cusp of Indian summer, shattered by the horrible death throes of an innocent little girl. If that doesn't curdle the blood, then you have no heart. But you segue from there right into the cold, clinical world of the lab and the scientists that work there, bombarding me with doomsday scenarios and behind-the-scenes governmental paranoid malarky. You managed to set the stage within the action that was going on, leaving me no time to pause for breath. That is good writing, sir. Although, I dare say you have almost set the bar too high. When you start your story off with so much adrenalin, you have little room to come down and muse. But if anyone can pull it off, it is you, sir.
An absolute nightmare of a first chapter. The bug alone is horrifying (and, as usual, your accompanying photos make it all the more cringe worthy). You've opened quite a can of worms here, sir. One that I imagine has been festering in your subconscious for a long time. It reads far faster and more breathless than your usual stories. This will be a hard chapter to follow, sir; a very hard chapter to follow. But if anyone can pull it off, it is you. Bloody well done (pun entirely intended). You managed to give me goosepimples, and that doesn't happen very often anymore. I just love your writing, sir.
You shall never find me pissing in even a swimming pool, ever again.
Your true fan,
--Mike
Comment Written 04-May-2014
reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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Hah, well, just don't piss in one that's located in South America, Mike. Or, on second thought, you're right. Better safe than sorry, right?
You are right, I have had this story on the back burner for quite some time. It's derived from a place near my childhood home, a complex surrounded by high walls, ten foot high fences topped with concertina wire, and has no identifying signs. One large smoke stack belched what looked to be steam, 24/7, and we always speculated as kids what went on behind those walls. It sits deserted today, with DANGER! DO NOT ENTER signs posted on the gates. A terrifying place to look at, and wonder...
Many thanks to you, Mike, for your complimentary review and most generous rating. Coming from a fellow aficionado of this genre, I take that as the highest compliment.
Comment from country ranch writer
Sounds far fetched but never say never we never know what thos scientist have in those petre dishes growing or what ever they want to call it. remember the gas they let loose over the desert years ago and the people dying of cancer
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reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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Sounds far fetched but never say never we never know what thos scientist have in those petre dishes growing or what ever they want to call it. remember the gas they let loose over the desert years ago and the people dying of cancer
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The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
Comment Written 04-May-2014
reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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Thanks for reading and reviewing the story for me, country. I really appreciate it!
Yeah, I recall that incident. Caused a HUGE sink! This story isn't as far fetched as you might think, either. They are working on some scary things out there...
Comment from Domino 2
This is far too long for my dim brain to concentrate on, Dean, but for your brilliantly gory artwork, I had to give a 'review' and hope it bumps the post up a bit.
Jeez, mate - don't you give YOURSELF nightmares? :-)
Cheers, Ted
PS - I don't think the guy in the last picture has been taught how to eat spaghetti properly ;-)
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reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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This is far too long for my dim brain to concentrate on, Dean, but for your brilliantly gory artwork, I had to give a 'review' and hope it bumps the post up a bit.
Jeez, mate - don't you give YOURSELF nightmares? :-)
Cheers, Ted
PS - I don't think the guy in the last picture has been taught how to eat spaghetti properly ;-)
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The highest and the lowest rating are not included in calculations.
Comment Written 04-May-2014
reply by the author on 04-May-2014
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Hah, nope, Ted, I have a very clear conscience (thank heavens!). Although, I suffer from ovinaphobia, so it makes it very hard to count sheep when I'm really trying to go to sleep, but can't, heh, heh...
Have yourself a great Sunday, my friend. And, thanks for taking a look at it for me, if only briefly.
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I checked out 'ovinaphobia' but can't find a definition.
I added a silly comment in a 'PS' at the end, Dean.
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'Ovinaphobia': an irrational fear of sheep. But, I was just joking. And yeah, I sort of felt like that guy needed a bib and a few more garlic rolls, at the very least!
8>}
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Thanks for the definition, and for the laugh, Dean.
Ted
