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Shane Kroetsch

Dark and Introspective Fiction

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Shane

The Horned God

April 11, 2022 by Shane Leave a Comment

A storm rages over the city of Geneva. Compact and angry, its intention is focused. Clouds filled with darkness let loose their electric fingers. They tear into the concrete and steel, searching for the array of particle accelerators beneath, like a predator slashing at the throat of its victim.

Deep below the noise and chaos, commotion and violence are mirrored in a place few will ever see. Wafting smoke pulses with red light as sirens scream from all corners. Those who can run do. Those who can’t, crawl or stumble away in a futile attempt to find safety.

A breach in the wall of the Large Hadron Collider unleashes a storm, not of elements, but of space and time—a tear in the fabric that keeps the universe contained. Smoke curls to reveal a portal to another place. Perhaps hell itself. Except, the other side is calm. A vibrant purple moon hangs high in the clear sky, casting dim light over an endless, barren desert. Starting as a spec on the horizon, a lone figure strides forward at a steady pace.

When the figure reaches the portal, it stoops low to allow antlers as wide as an oak tree to push through. A muscled form of a man follows, but its eyes are not human. When The Lord of the Wild Things stands, none can match its size, but none are left alive to witness its arrival.

The horned god heralds a changing of the guard, a long-awaited opportunity for the rightful stewards of the planet to stake their claim—the beasts and creatures, above and below, seen and unseen. But before that can happen, final reparations must be paid. A cleanse is in order.

Seething clouds overflow across the sky. Tight spirals of glittering snow charge to the ground, stark and pure against a canvas of darkness. When the first flakes stick, they do not melt. Instead, they spark and ignite, searing the land. Soon, there will only be fire, confirmation that hell has arrived after all. But what comes after, for those who manage to survive, will be so much worse.

***

Photo by Breno Machado on Unsplash

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Filed Under: Story Tagged With: Fiction, Flash Fiction, Short Fiction

The Job

January 5, 2022 by Shane Leave a Comment

“Can you touch your toes like that?”

On the elevated stage in front of Leon, a young woman, who looks too scrawny to support the size of her artificial chest, adjusts her G-string and saunters over to a group of college students waving dollar bills in the air.

Mick leans back in his chair with a bottle of beer in his hand. “That’s really the first thought to come to mind?”

Leon picks at his teeth and side-eyes the bar. A fat man hovers over it, his thick-rimmed spectacles spotted with precipitation and the shoulders of his long coat glossy under the dim yellow light.

“Tryin’ ta keep my mind on the job is all.”

Mick holds his beer up and watches the bottom as he swirls the dregs. “Yeah. The job.” He sets the bottle down.

“This the extortionist or the pedophile?”

“Extortionist.”

“Too bad.” Mick laces his fingers behind his head. “Got a little pent-up energy I was hoping to find an outlet for.”

Leon guides his eyes to the edge of the stage but doesn’t focus on anything in particular. “That’s called anger, Mick. And you’ve always had a healthy supply.”

Mick frowns but gives no other response.

At the bar, the fat man drops a few coins to pay for his drink, then heads toward the back of the room. He knocks on a black painted door hidden built into a black painted wall. When it opens, harsh light spills out, eclipsing the fat man as he moves across the threshold. The door eases shut behind him, but not tight.

Mick looks up when Leon stands and shrugs on his jacket. “You sure it’s not the pedo?”

Leon zips his jacket and pulls a thin pair of leather gloves from one pocket. “I’m sure, but if you want to pretend, I won’t get in the way. Let’s go.”

***

Photo by Eric Nopanen on Unsplash

***

Filed Under: Story Tagged With: Fiction, Flash Fiction, Short Fiction

Stories from the Dark, Ep. 7 – A Passing of Seasons

December 22, 2021 by Shane Leave a Comment

Oh hi!

I hope your December has been treating you well so far. I know it’s a busy time, so let’s get to it.

For December’s Stories from the Dark, I’m crossing a line I haven’t crossed before. I killed Santa. Well, a Santa anyway. Have a watch below.

Before I go, I’ve got some exciting news to share. In honour of the giving season, all three books in the Storm Series are now only $0.99 on Amazon! Better yet, if you have a Kindle Unlimited membership, you can now read them for free! If you prefer real books in your hands, the limited edition paperbacks are on sale right now as well, head to pencilonpaper.ca to order and check out some of the other unique items we have available.

Surviving the Storm – Cover update!

But wait, there’s more! Keep your eyes peeled for new subscriber-only content coming to your inbox soon, including the next step in the Storm saga… If you aren’t a subscriber already, just scroll down to enter your email address.

Merry Christmas, everyone! I wish you all the best now and in the New Year. Thank you for being with me on my writing journey.

Until next time, stay well.

Shane

Filed Under: Audio Story, Story Tagged With: Audio Story, Christmas, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Short Fiction

Last Chance

December 7, 2021 by Shane Leave a Comment

Through the slats of the stacked-up pallets I’m squeezed in behind, I see the barrel of the .38 that left me to bleed out on the floor stick past the door frame. I hoped that it, and the waste of skin with his chubby little sausage finger pressed against the trigger, would’ve assumed a job well done and buggered off. But, just my luck, it looks like that little prick Eugene wants to make sure what’s left of my sorry life is at its end.

The pistol comes into full view. A pudgy face with a crazed grin, nearly splitting it in two, shows soon after. Didn’t think I could hate it more than I already do, but I was wrong. Before the door closes, cold wind and a few scattered snowflakes push into the room, along with the echo of a Christmas carol pouring from a loudspeaker down the street. Eugene walks slow across the open floor, eyes searching every corner, sometimes twice. I think I’m done for, but I’m deep enough in the shadows that he passes by without noticing me.

With a clear view of his back, I wish I had the strength to get up and kick him in his underused micro-penis, just like I used to do when we were kids. Course, I didn’t really mean it back then. It was something to do. Now, given the opportunity, I’d give it all I’ve got.

Who would have guessed that we’d be two of the only ones from our generation not to have dreams of moving to the big city? When you live in a place called Last Chance, typically, it’s a given. I still haven’t figured out my excuse, but Eugene’s family has been here for generations. They founded the place for all I know. Probably been running things behind the scenes the whole time. Politicians and cops. Money and drugs. This town’s their own personal puppet show. Too bad I stumbled into something without meaning to and threatened to cut the strings.

Eugene takes a few more tentative steps before circling back to the entrance. I try not to make sad little girl noises as I draw my hand away from the oozing wound in my side and reach out for my blade. As my fingers wrap around the handle, it occurs to me I’ve only got one shot at this, and I need to make it count.

***

Photo by Maxim Hopman on Unsplash

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Filed Under: Story Tagged With: Flash Fiction, Short Fiction

What if the Sun Stopped Shining

November 16, 2021 by Shane Leave a Comment

Lucinda blinks as the edge of a heavy shadow eclipses her. High above, a fast-moving cloud fills the late afternoon sky. She shifts closer to her husband and pulls the blanket at her feet up to her knees as the porch swing sways. “Do you ever think about the sun?”

Faron brings his attention to Lucinda’s hand on his bare chest. “What about it.”

“If it stopped shining. Just disappeared. Do you know what will happen?”

Faron squints. “Off the top of my head? It would be dark.”

Lucinda closes her eyes and bites her bottom lip. Faron waits for confirmation of his assumption. When it becomes clear his wife won’t continue without him showing more interest, he sighs and asks the expected question slow and without emotion. “How much worse?”

Lucinda leans into Faron’s shoulder and turns her eyes up to his. “Outside of the changes in gravity, all human life would end within the first two days. We’d all freeze to death. After two months, the oceans will freeze over. After the atmosphere collapses, the planet will be a radioactive wasteland careening through space forever, or at least until it hits something of similar or greater size and is destroyed.”

Faron forces a hint of a smile. “Fun.”

Lucinda frowns from one side of her mouth. “Yeah.” She studies Faron’s face a moment longer before finding it hard to maintain her focus. “It’s been on my mind lately. It seems the perfect metaphor for loss. When your light goes away, it takes what was holding your feet to the ground. You become cold. Lifeless. You wander without direction until one day it all ends for good.”

Faron rests his hand on the back of Lucinda’s head, smoothing her coal-black curls. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

Lucinda guides the tips of her fingers down the raised skin on the center of Faron’s chest, healed, but discoloured. “Not yet.”

Faron opens his mouth, but the response disappears before forming enough to be spoken. Instead, he kisses her forehead and turns away.

***

Photo by Jordon Conner on Unsplash

***

Filed Under: Story Tagged With: Flash Fiction, Short Fiction

The “Why I’m So Tired” Update

November 9, 2021 by Shane Leave a Comment

This is a bit of a long post for me, but it’s been a while, so I want to get everyone caught up and share some gratitude.

In October, I posted two episodes of Stories from the Dark to celebrate the spookiest of months, including a story titled The Devil that is exactly 666 words long. I also had an amazing opportunity to be interviewed on The Writers’ Block with Mike Deregowski. We talked all about how I love to scratch a pencil against a piece of yellow-lined paper to calm the voices in my head. It was made more special as it aired on Halloween morning. In case you missed it, you can find it on the Sound Sugar Radio website, look for episode 51. Thank you again, Mike!

November is National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) which means ALL THE WRITING. This year I’m participating in an unofficial manner. That means no to-do list, no weird projects, only writing, plotting, and editing. I’ve teamed up with a few other members of the Alexandra Writers’ Centre Society in a sort of accountability group. The goal is not word count, but to write every day, and to support each other in the process. I’m only keeping up with one of these things, and even there I’m struggling.

I finished the first week at just under 8,000 words. Not bad. I’m already behind on my current work-in-progress, and now it’s looking like it will be shorter when finished than I hoped. These things are renting a lot of space in my head, which slows down the whole process even more. The current bright spot in my writing life is a short story I’m working on to submit to Pulp Kings Eight from Stray Books. So far, it’s come together quick, and the edit is going well. Good thing because the deadline is this Saturday.

Speaking of submitting stories, I have exciting news in that regard. Late last year, my story Identity was accepted for publication in WonderShift, the Alexandra Writers’ Centre Society’s 40th Anniversary Anthology.

This past Friday, I got to read Identity in front of a room full of actual people! I am beyond honoured to be included with many other talented local writers and poets. I speak about it as often as I can, but community in any creative endeavour is important. Unfortunately, I’m terrible at making these connections because I’m tired and cranky most of the time and would rather hide from the world, but I am grateful to be a part of this wonderful group, even in a small way.

Identity isn’t the only story I’ve had accepted recently. Lampblack Books put out a call for submissions earlier in the year for their new anthology, The Planchette Vol. 1, and my story Remember was accepted! The launch was postponed due to health restrictions, but I know the Lampblack team is working hard on getting the anthology ready for release. I’ll update as soon as I know more.

I understand how fortunate I am to have had these opportunities come my way this year, but they weren’t always my focus. When I started my writing journey, a huge part of my goal as a creative freight train was to show that anyone can do the things I do. We can all follow our dreams, even if the steps we take are small. The potential for this hit me hard at the WonderShift launch on Friday when I looked down at the book sale table,

Yes, so many amazing books by local authors and poets, plus, mine are there too. But that’s not all.

I started Pencil on Paper late in 2018 so I could publish my books. I had no idea what I was doing but was fortunate to have close friends that were able to help me bring my very specific visions to life. When I left my day job early in 2019, I convinced one of those friends, the one and only Kaleigh Kanary, to jump on board to help me grow the business and truly live our best creative lives. Wonder Twin powers, activate!

Nothing looks the same today as it did three years ago, that goes without saying. Out of all the bullshit and loss we’ve had to put up with, here’s something positive to focus on, something that inspires me more than I can put into words.

In the last three years, Kaleigh has created seven published or soon to be published book covers (shown in the picture above are Uncommon Grounds by The Espresso Poetry Collective, WonderShift, and the two with my name on them). She completed her Professional Editing Certificate from Mount Royal University and has, to date, finished five full book edits. She has designed websites, created all of PoP’s marketing materials, and a million social media posts. If asked, she’ll say she isn’t a poet. If you go to her website, kaleighkanary.com, you’ll see that she most certainly is. She is a testament to what throwing a middle finger up to what society says we should be, and following your heart, can look like.

I’m sharing this with you as more than an example of what is possible. I want to be very clear that while I am the dancing monkey in this publishing endeavour, the entity playing the organ is Pencil on Paper, and Pencil on Paper is a team. I am grateful to be Kaleigh’s business partner and proud to be her friend. This journey hasn’t always been easy, but I know when I look back it will have been worth it.

Thank you for following along. Until next time, I hope you are well.

Shane

Filed Under: Blog Post Tagged With: books, life, writing

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