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Sjan Evardsson

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2019

Stories (260)

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301 Followers

9 Following

260 Stories

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Patience

Patience. That’s one thing I’ve never been accused of possessing in any quantity. Makes my choice of career a little odd, but helping people solve their problems makes me feel better. Maybe it’s just a way to ignore my own.After starting from the bottom as a junior assistant in the Ambassador’s office, I’d made it all the way to the Ambassador’s right hand woman, Senior Chief Aide. From there, it was a small step to go to work for myself.These days, I’m known as a troubleshooter, broker, agent or, if they’re being blunt, a fixer. The name fi...

3 likes

No Middle

People like Yulia and me, we’re below justice; people like Mercy Botha, they’re above it. There is no middle, there is no justice.When Yulia was arrested, it was “mistaken identity.” Before anyone else was even aware she’d been arrested, she was transferred to the prison factory due to a “paperwork error.” An “industrial accident” left her dead on the second day.I found her body in the morgue at the Special Work Prison, six-hundred kilometers away from the prison factory where they said she’d died. The SWP was, in all but name, a brothel for...

3 likes

Found in Translation

“Greg, come up right away. Oh, and tell the analysts to drop anything they’re working on right now, this takes priority.” She returned the handset to the cradle. The hard-line communication system was older than anything else in the building. In fact, it was older than anything on the moon that wasn’t in a museum or itself a tourist attraction. It was secure, though, and that mattered most.The swarthy, mustachioed man burst into her office with a harried air and unkempt hair. “What is it, Grace? Did the signal office pick something up?”Grace...

3 likes

Harvest of The Royal Fleet

A gash appeared in space, disgorging hundreds of ships of the Royal Fleet along the edge of an asteroid field. As soon as the last ship had emerged from L-space into real space, the gash faded from local timespace.“Attention all ships of the Queen’s Expedition: We claim another system in the name of Queen and Empire this day. Let the Empire rejoice, and all others weep, for the presence of the Royal Fleet.” The communication device clicked off. “Scans, full fleet, full sweep. Route concerns to weapons and security, and all planetary and stel...

3 likes

Bucket List

Submitted to Contest #299

CW: Mature themes“I haven’t, but it’s on my bucket list.”- “Wot’s a bucket list?”“You ogres have no culture at all, do you?”- “You wot? We gots a lots of culture.”“Like what?”- “Like da Log Drum Festival.”“What’s that?”- “You don’t know wot a log drum is?”“Of course, I know what a log drum is. A hollow log you beat with a stick.”- “Right. Dat.”“The festival, what is it?”- “Oh. We builds a bonfire, beat on da log drums, dance around, and den go kill somefing to frow in the fire for eats.”“One festival hardly makes a culture.”- “Dere’s also da...

8 likes

Anomaly

Kaidra pulled on the new over-tunic he’d grown from the soft, strong fibers of civilian-grade cloth bacterium. Growing clothes was one of the skills every man picked up during military service, along with cooking, housekeeping, gardening, and killing.The deep blue stripes on the sleeves and around the neckline accented his pale skin, making the blue undertones more pronounced. It reflected in his eyes, making the light grey appear blue. His tar-black hair was tied back in a professional bun exposing his tall ear points. He’d cut it all off o...

3 likes

IX Incarcera

Nonum Incarcera — Ninth Prison — also known as Nonum Infernum, Ninth Hell, The Pit, The Devil’s Asshole, and more frightening names, kept its secrets and prisoners bound up tight. The only sentence served at the Ninth was life. The prison sat in a volcanic valley, sealed by magic, auto-blasters, and the heavily guarded borders of the no-man’s-land where it was located between Dwarven, Elven, and Orcish nations.Its founding during the Neoclassical boom of the early 18th century was evident from its architecture, its Latin name, and the Latin ...

2 likes

Gap Year

The haze blocking out the morning sky was the color of infectious decay. The weak sun, faint behind the fetid smog was an omen — of what, Zeke couldn’t tell.Mask secure and seals checked, Ezekiel “Zeke” Rankin, self-appointed scout, let himself out through the airlock to the cool, damp morning air. The silent alien city extended endlessly. What used to be a thriving ecumenopolis had been turned into a graveyard. Continent sized chunks of the city had been flattened, while others stood with no visible damage beyond the poisoned sky.The missio...

3 likes

Portal From the Underworld

Angel watched the restroom door. A small, stout woman, barely taller than the doorknob’s height, with lime-green hair and a bright, reflective safety vest had gone in several minutes earlier and still hadn’t come out. She hadn’t locked the door, so the green “Vacant” still showed. Angel was so busy watching the door that she didn’t see the woman with the squirming baby until she was already at the door. Angel opened her mouth to warn her that the room was occupied, but before she could say anything the young woman had gone in and locked the ...

3 likes

Day Labor

Adrian poured the clear liquid over the ice in the shallow glass, watching it turn white in swirls and eddies. He turned off the lights and carried the glowing glass to the mirror. Rather than the mysterious, cool image he was hoping for, the sickly blue glow left him looking pallid and cadaverous. With the overhead lights back on and the black light off, the liquid had the appearance of skim milk over ice. Adrian checked his appearance in the mirror. Even dressed as he was in his best, he knew he wouldn’t fit in. The word ‘poor’ might as we...

3 likes

What I Left Behind

The bed I lay on was comfortable enough, but not plush. The walls were a pale blue with no windows. An IV ran into my arm, and a tangle of cables connected me to a device that quietly monitored my vitals. There was a white corridor outside the open door. The closed door on the wall opposite my head had a toilet sign. Hospital. I sat up, putting my feet on the floor. I felt weak. At first, I wasn’t sure I was feeling it, but a faint thrum carried through the floor — deck, my mind corrected. Hospital ship. I’d no sooner deduced that than a nur...

3 likes

The Beard of Avon

Justin Smoot was known by his neighbors as the hippie who paints and has an overgrown plot full of weeds. The people of Bidford-on-Avon knew him as an eccentric that used a loophole in environmental laws to have his front and rear gardens declared wild habitat. The art scene in Warwickshire knew him as a painter of weirdness, best classified as abstract surrealism. The fact that there was an undeniable magic to his art, despite his being untrained as either an artist or a wizard, made them slightly more interesting to collectors than they wo...

2 likes

The Otherwar

They’d been found in a parallel universe of sorts. While working towards wormhole generation, scientists had accidentally punched a hole into a universe that was almost indistinguishable from ours. The creatures they found traversing the stars there were unimaginable horrors. Smaller ships, but far more numerous, crewed by behemoth abominations. The science ship had been seen, and one of the ships of the Other followed it through from their universe. Had it not been for the Navy standing by, no one knows what kind of hell they could’ve unlea...

3 likes

Little Guy

Sara followed the trail. Droplets of what she was certain was blood. Something small, she guessed. If it turned out to be somebody with a little cut or bloody nose walking slow, she’d be embarrassed, but that wasn’t likely. The trail led into an upturned cardboard box at the end of the alley. There was half of a strange footprint, paw-print really, on the flap of the cardboard that lay outside the box. She couldn’t identify it. Not dog or cat or rat or raccoon or opossum. Sara waited for a minute, listening for sounds of life from the box. S...

3 likes

All I Can Do Is Laugh

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. Perhaps, if I was hung over, I’d have a clue, but I feel like I’ve had a good night’s sleep for the first time in recent memory. I try to remember waking up and moving to where I stand, but there’s nothing. If I’d slept on the small sofa or in one of the armchairs that made up the totality of the room’s furnishings, I would be stiff and sore, not the case. The thought tickles something in my mind — the case. What case? I examine the room. Aside from the sparse furnishings, the room has not...

4 likes