Lake Vostok

The waters of the lake are cold and deep, and the sunlight never makes it through the ice.




A little tidbit to kick off the Holy Month of Halloween. I’m going to try and make a point of posting more often this month.

If it kills me.


The old King had fallen, beheaded by a terrified concubine who’d somehow managed to pull one of the ornamental axes from the wall. The palace guard, alerted, had managed to head off the Crown Prince’s escape attempt. Strapped to the throne, he was anointed by one of the Brothers of St. Lazarus, who, hooded, chained, and groaning, had been brought from their underground monastery to administer the sacramental Bite.

A scant quarter-hour later, the Lord Chamberlain appeared on the balcony. “The King,” he said, excitement shining in his eyes, “is Dead!”

“Long live the King!”