L.T. Williams

Writer of the weird and sp00ky and dark and grim and

Short Fiction

The boy waded into the marsh and offered up his flesh.
His spindly limbs were pale, barren of protection, open to any creature that would partake in the delicacy of blood. He carried with him a single cloth bag beginning to fray around the edges. This bag was his lifeline. Without it, every thing he held dear would shrivel up and die, and he would be left alone to do the same. A farmer had a hoe. A woodcarver had their knives. Every baker had an oven.
The leech collector had his bag.

Mr. James stared at the boulder, jaw slack. It wasn’t that he’d never seen a rock of this size before, its black veins twisting throughout a massive structure, begging to be extracted. After all, he was the owner of seven coal mines and four metalworks in southern Wales, and had, on occasion, been known to personally lead the tours for any potential investors.
But he had never seen a boulder taking up the better half of his parlour before.

The dust smothered everything.

May 1st, 1697
It’s been two months since we last embraced. Keeping this journal – all of the letters I will give to you the next time we dock in the same port – has kept me sane. But nothing can replace your presence.
I miss you.
I know you miss me, too.

Report: Manuscript discovered at an archaeological dig site located one-hundred meters away from a monastery dating back to the High Middle Ages. Found in a pile of ashes amongst the remains of fifteen+ individuals. No record of a graveyard at this location could be found. Remains have been sent for further analysis. The author of this journal is unknown, but suspected to have been an elderly monk or priest with high standing in the community. Below are the surviving pages.

We had made our living in this mine, shed blood and sweat for thirty-eight cents per long ton of coal for God knows how long. We knew the tunnels better than we knew ourselves, could just about navigate them with our eyes closed. But now the shafts and tunnels were somehow unfamiliar, alien, and I didn’t want to admit that we were completely and utterly lost.

On the opposite side of the room, through a maze of cubicles and scattered office supplies, the door to the break room – our target – stood open.

This is my now page! What am I up to?

Updated: 24 August 2026Writing/Editing
- Outlined a bunch of scenes for my apocalyptic fantasy novel, where the landscape has been ravaged and folks live in the corpses of massive gods (sort of like kaiju).
- Started writing novel mentioned above.
- Doing writing sprints with some cool folks once a week.
- Slushin'. Haven Spec. The yoozh.Reading
- Started reading a couple classic manga: Lone Wolf and Cub by Kazuo Koike and Berserk by Kentaro Miura.
- Almost finished with the manga Monster by Naoki Urasawa.
- Making my way through Pride and Prejudice, highlighting every time Mr. Bennet makes me snort.
- Been on a bit of sword and sorcery kick, specifically the pub New Edge Sword and Sorcery.Other
- Finished my PhD.
- Just watched a ruby-throated hummingbird zoom up to my window while I was sitting here writing this.

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About

L.T. Williams can’t seem to escape mountains – whether it's the mountain of his TBR list, the Appalachians where he grew up, or the Ozarks where he now resides. L.T.'s love for speculative fiction also started in the mountains, where the folk tales, urban legends, and cryptid stories of Appalachia inspired him to pick up the pen and start creating some of his own. In addition to writing, L.T. serves as an associate editor for Haven Spec Magazine. He spends his spare time climbing rocks, hiking, playing board games, and studying ancient tomes from outer space. You can find him at ltwilliamswriter.com or in the nearest body of water looking for frogs. Feel free to reach out to him via email with any questions, concerns, or information on the whereabouts of the Mothman.

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