A man and a gnome Aak fictionspawn

Exposed

-Got you!

He held the little gnome up in front of his face. Finally. after years of pranks and disasters, he had him.

-Let me go!

-Let you go? George laughed. -Never! You little bugger…

He put the little man in a jar, trying to find out what to do with him.

It had all started with a broken alarm clock.

He had bought a new one. It broke as well.

Soon he’d lost his job.

Then the panties in the bedroom. Girlfriend gone, and that was just the beginning.

Now the little bastard was caught… (more)

Book attack Aak fictionspawn ink illustration

Bitten By Books

Donald walked along the shelves, looked at the books. He knew people actually read these things.

“Maybe just a try,” he thought. “For the laugh of it.”

He grabbed one, pulled it out.

“Ouuuch!” The book fell on the floor. His hand was bleeding.  “It… It bit me!”

More books fell out of the shelves. He jumped back. Razor sharp teeth appeared, snapping at him. Attacking him. Biting him.

The biting books came flying… (More)

Almost There

The journey had been hard and long, and the bridge finally stood before him. Long, winding. Unsafe. The wond howled around the rocks, and the shadows were already grown long.

He had come too late.

ON the top of the rocks on the other side a dark figure observed him attently. He didn’t care anymore. He had come too far to care, he had gone too far not to act. His house, his family. They were all gone anyway.

He took a step out on the bridge. The bridge he had walked so many times before, so long ago. It was the same bridge, but it sounded different. He walked on…

A sketch creature Aak fictionspawn

Sketchy Business

Gerog came home from work, threw his bag in a corner and went out on the porch. He sat there for a while, listening to the silence. He loved silence. His note pad was lying on the table, he must have forgotten it outside yesterday. Lucky it didn’t rain. He made a little sketch. A sketch of a man with a big head and strange hair.

The phone rang. He went inside to pick it up. Wrong number. He grabbed a soda from the fridge and went back out. He looked at the note book. The sketch was gone.

That’s strange… He said out loud. He went through the pages, maybe the wind had turned them. Nothing.

Looking for me?

Gerog opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. His sketch was sitting on the fence, smiling at him….