Yumi | Chapter One The star was particularly bright when the nightmare painter started his rounds. The star. Singular. No, not a sun. Just one star. A bullet hole in the midnight sky, bleeding pale light. The nightmare painter lingered outside his apartment building, locking his eyes on the star. He’d always found it strange, that…
Yumi | Chapter Two Yumi had always considered the appearance of the daystar to be encouraging. An omen of fortune. A sign that the primal hijo would be open and welcoming to her. The daystar seemed extra bright today—glowing a soft blue on the western horizon as the sun rose in the east. A powerful…
Yumi | Chapter Three It’s terrifying how nightmares transform. I’m talking about ordinary nightmares now, not the kind that get painted. Terror dreams—they change. They evolve. It’s bad enough to encounter something frightening in the waking world, but at least those mortal horrors have shape, substance. That which has shape can be understood. That which…
Yumi | Chapter Four The local steamwell erupted right as Yumi was passing—at a safe distance—on the way to the place of ritual. A glorious jet of water ascended from the hole in the center of the village. A furious, superheated cascade that reached forty feet at its highest—a gift from the spirits deep below.…
Yumi | Chapter Five The nightmares had originally come from the sky. Painter had heard the accounts. Everyone had. They weren’t quite histories, mind you. They were fragments of stories that were likely exaggerations. They were taught in school regardless. Like a man with diarrhea in a sandpaper factory, sometimes all available options are less than ideal.…
Yumi | Chapter Six All right, let’s talk about me. Uncharacteristically, I don’t want to discuss the topic. This isn’t a bright point in my career, and I would rather the attention be on other less statuesque people for the duration of the narrative. That said, I know it’s going to distract some of you unless I…
Yumi | Chapter Seven Painter wound through the next set of streets, tracking the nightmare as the rain tapped him on the head. The trail was difficult to follow; the dark wisps seemed to vanish in the haze. He backtracked twice as the streets grew narrower, winding through the huddled tenements of the city’s outer…
