Skip to main content

[FICTION] Tales from Port Astor | The First Port Astor State University

     Port Astor State University is the premier higher education facility in the State of Jefferson, and every year, tens of thousands flock to the City of Secrets to "begin their futures". Most prestigious of all is the post-graduate program, the Doctorate of Applied Metaphysics & Philosophy, which is by invitation only. While many openly desire to enter the program, few could even begin to explain what the exact criteria of admittance are, let alone what is actually taught within.

    The program itself traces its lineage back to the university founders, who ran a small college out of the original university building, The Old Stone Hall. It began as an almost chapel-like structure of rustic cobble, but over its life grew into a bizarre and sprawling web of eclectic neo-gothic stonework, contemporary wood and cement, and other, harder to describe styles not seen before by any of its students.

    This was the heart of Port Astor Academia, until the December of 1931. During the Quarantine, the Old Stone Hall vanished, along with nearly the entire original campus. The official records of both the University and City state that a fire broke out after a gas-line exploded, but no one in the local area reported any sign of ash nor smoke, let alone any explosions, but all did agree on seeing an odd orange light glow and hang in the sky for a short time, all in the area of the Old Stone Hall. 

    Regardless, the original campus was gone. To this day, all that marks the location is an old plaque, and an empty lot that has remained vacant ever since, with the University refusing to discuss any plans of development, and repeating nothing more than the official line for nearly a century.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

[GUEST WRITER] Healer/Weapon by Nico

  General content warning: This is a piece about the crossroads of our current socio-political landscape, through the lens of the author’s upbringing and life experience.  Mentions of emotional and physical abuse, rape, religious trauma, gun violence, school shootings, racism & hate crimes, and others. Topics and themes touched on are handled respectfully, but told unflinchingly.                                         W H e a l e r       p              o                      n It’s 2005. I am being raised to be a weapon.  I’m ten, or so. They split the boys and the girls off...

[Guest Writer] Gemini by Brian Rydquist

Editor's Note: This is a content warning for those sensitive to certain topics; self-harm, child loss, graphic descriptions of violence.            Sylvia bent over the lifeless bodies of the newborn infants she had just spent six hellish hours delivering. Screams of anguish poured from her diaphragm, blood soaked her nightgown from the waist down. Her husband William knelt beside her, stroking her shoulder in a futile attempt at comfort. The midwife, an elderly Inuit woman, knelt on her otherside. “Please miss,  you must lay down. Your body has suffered incredible stress, the birth was not a good one.” “My babies, my babies, this can’t be!” Sylvia shrieked, deaf to the woman’s words. “Shh, shh,” William was muttering as he rubbed her shoulders. “Maybe it won’t be, I have already sent for the spirit leader of my tribe. He should arrive any moment.” “Don’t be a fool! How dare you give my wife this false hope! You can clearly see the babie...

[FICTION] Tales from Port Astor | The Loamy Gloam

      During the lockdown, a ghost ship came into the harbor of Port Astor. With so much of the city in chaos or silence, few at the time even noticed its arrival. More did bother to pay attention, however, when word got out that an entire Coast Guard  boarding team vanished after boarding the vessel. When they sent the second team, no traces of the original crew of the ship, or the first boarding team were found.      The name of the ship was The Eastern Gloam, which was seen over a decade ago leaving for the Far East, with a crew of scholars and academics. And the only trace of anything they found aboard the ship was a carved phrase on a bulkhead: "LOAMY GLOAM".     Fearing another illness, the ship was towed out and eventually scuttled. Since then, however, a number of disappearances have been tied to the return of the ship, with the phrase "RETURN TO REST WITHIN  THE LOAMY GLOAM" showing up again and again over the years, and then us...