L.C. Schäfer

Joined May 2020

927 stories

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Summer Leaves (grab it while it's gorgeous)

Never so naked as I am on a page

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I'm not a writer! I've just had too much coffee!

Sometimes writes under S.E.Holz

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Stories (927)

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Vampire Flu. Top Story - January 2025.
Man flu is tough when you're a vampire. Did you think the undead can't get ill? Ha. Think again. Why not? On what logic are you basing that assumption?
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Highlight Reel
He woke up disoriented with no idea where he was. Aware, in a vague way, that he should probably feel panic, and disconcerted at its absence. He didn't feel anything much at all.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Dr Knives
The lobotomist felt at home in the old, abandoned asylum. The doors that clanged themselves and flickering lights didn't faze him in the least. Nor did the whispers, the random chilly patches, or the feeling of dread that seemed to ooze out of the very walls.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
sequoia heart
my sister said he looks wooden in photos i suppose he does look sort of rigid i don't think he liked having his picture taken
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Poets
Spoilt
Portia strode into my class with the woman shuffling behind. The string put me in mind of a sort of packing twine, pale and brittle. It enhanced the impression the old woman gave off: that of a kicked puppy being tugged about on a leash.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
A Memory of Snow
It didn't quite look like the surface of Mars. yet. But it definitely looked more desolate and desert-ish than it had done even only a handful of decades ago.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Bea's Midnight Mission
The little girl is not good at lying, or any sort of deception really, but she's going to try her best. Her rounded face is too open, her chocolate eyes too expressive. Like many three year old children, she has zero impulse control.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Shut Up, Vocal
I'm not very good at new years. 1st January feels no different to me than the 31st of December. I am generally more inclined to be swayed by the season, than a number inked on a page. New shoots braving the chill with optimism makes me feel brave and optimistic, too.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Motivation
The Unwanted. Content Warning.
I hate him for what he's done to me. This shouldn't be happening to me. I didn't ask for this. No one asked me if I wanted it. If I was ready for it.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
Where oh where has my penis gone
He knew, the instant he opened his eyes, that his penis was gone again. He closed his eyes again, pressing his fingers to them as if he could push the memory in through his eyeballs.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction
impossible
i'm a meat-suit wearing skeketon, and im hurtling round the sun there's days i feel despair for what the human race has done
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Poets
From In Here
"Thank you, Alexander. That will be all." Alexander left the plate on the table and backed away with a deferential dip of his chin. His footsteps receded in the corridor outside, but the man perusing steamed chicken and vegetables knew he still wasn't alone. He never was. There was always somebody nearby. Not so different, really, to what he was used to.
By L.C. Schäferabout a year ago in Fiction