Jan D.

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020

Stories (4)

4 Stories

59 karma pts

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“Warmth” by Jan D.

Submitted to Contest #58

Dallas feels his stomach drop along with the elevator; the only difference is that his stomach does not bounce back a few feet. The jolt nudges his footing, and he blindly grabs for the metal bar along the wall to keep himself standing. It is difficult, to say the least, as his pounding heart falls down his throat and back to its proper home inside his chest. Once he is steady, he has only one thought. Great. He entered the elevator with the hopes of getting back to his room a few seconds quicker. Now, in the pitch black, he realizes he s...

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“The Detezen Division” by Jan D.

Submitted to Contest #56

It would be a stretch to say that Varg Nilsson's descent happened overnight. The realization of this descent, however, did. In fact, the realization was reached just seconds after the last time anyone saw Varg. To have a complete understanding, one must go back to January. The January of twenty eighteen, Varg dropped out of medical school to pursue an unknown venture. This was extremely unlike him. A new path had presented itself to him, Varg had insisted, a wonderful new path. It required him to move back to his home in Illinois; far from...

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“A Twist in Totoria” by Jan D.

Submitted to Contest #52

Following orders was no easy task when those orders involved inflicting harm. Many nations' governments regarded Elizabeth as a ruthless hitman, a faceless harbinger of revenge. Elizabeth herself considered her position to be the same as any other job. She clocked in, she clocked out. She compartmentalized the same way a doctor would. Much like a doctor, her knowledge was useful both inside and outside of her working hours. At the end of the day, the few lines separating a hitman and Elizabeth were the people who employed them. Her involvem...

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“Luzia's Anton” by Jan D.

Submitted to Contest #30

A birthday present this was, Luzia thinks solemnly.She steps back from the makeshift grave, a frown settling into the lines of her face. Sweet little Anton had been her best friend - perhaps it isn't a stretch to say that he still is - for fifteen years. Childishly she avoided the thought that he would be going soon for years. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen... every year he'd grown older, and every year she'd posted his photo to her blog with a happy birthday message he'd never actually read. A minuscule, youthful part of her truly did believe A...

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Author bio

Hobbyist that enjoys reading and writing morbid fancies.