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The warmth, then swift coldness, of piss on my legs brings me back from the rolling horror oozing over the dirt-pack towards me. Still a league distant, it is monstrous. A grotesque boil on the earth; a seething mass of tree spars and rocks that scalds the ice around it into steam. The way it moves! Questing forward, then rushing into the blackened space before it. Each thrust accompanied by boulders grinding, great snappings of century-old trunks as it heaves ahead.

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Read “Shatterach Gates” by Paul Daly, in Issue #35

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Paul Daly lives in Bristol, England, with his partner, two small children, and a job far from home. This combination means he is accustomed to writing in strange places, at strange times, in short bursts. Paul writes short SF/F fiction, thriller novels, and is girding himself for his first full length work of fantasy.

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