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Ken Ng

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2022

Stories (4)

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4 Stories

55 karma pts

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ATRAPOS

Ken Ng

Submitted to Contest #312

Morgan Hayle arrived at Work Unit 92 at 8:03 a.m.—fifteen minutes early. A red bar above the elevator glowed: MAX OCCUPANCY EXCEEDED. She sighed. Third day in a row. She eyed the stairwell, already aching. But up she went—120 floors of ghostly fluorescents, each landing identical to the last. Walls hummed. Vents breathed. She passed no one. On Floor 120, the air had a sterile bite. Her blouse clung damply to her back. She stepped into Reception: grey walls, grey carpet, no windows. A status panel blinked: VISITORS ARRIVE: 1700hrs PRESENTATIO...

12 likes

The Stranger at Winter's Hearth

Ken Ng

Submitted to Contest #281

It was Christmas Eve in the small, snow-cloaked town of Bellingham, where warm lights spilled from frosted windows and the air hummed with the faint echo of carols. At the grand old manor of the Van Houts, the wealthiest family in town, a lavish Christmas party was in full swing. The ballroom sparkled with gilded garlands, towering evergreens adorned with silver and crimson baubles, and a roaring hearth that bathed everything in a golden glow.The townsfolk mingled, wine glasses in hand, laughter and music intertwining as snow began to fall o...

8 likes

I have no face, but I must love

Ken Ng

Submitted to Contest #208

“Wake up, 621. You have work to do.” Katya-621 whirred steel optics and twitched synthetic-flesh fingers. The inside of her combat cradle was a mirror sheen that reflected a pale, naked female body of indeterminate age that was clearly designed to mimic the peak of human athleticism; whipcord thin, sporting toned, evenly molded musculature. Katya might have been considered beautiful, desirable even, save for the hundreds of diagnostic wires and electrical cables that remained plugged into the entire length of her back from cro...

2 likes

The Phone Hack

Ken Ng

Excessive, Wayne Lee thinks bemusedly, sipping his shrinkflated latte as he glances out the large fixed window of the Starbucks he’d chosen as his latest hunting ground. If brutally effective. Thirteen surveillance cameras, all wired into a single ten-foot tall, off-white pillar, stare impassively down upon the teeming throngs of Humanity that pass unceasingly beneath its glassy-eyed gaze, relaying everything it sees back to one of hundreds of monitoring stations secreted across the length and breadth of the tiny island-nation. It is one of...

2 likes