Writer, Musician, Gamer, Dad, Husband, Data Monkey (Not in any specific order). Also a Psych-o, Browncoat, Scaper, and most recently, Whovian. Fan of Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Super Heroes in general. Rabid gamer geek, especially for Mass Effect and Dragon Age and for Table-top games too.
I've written and self-published two novels so far in the genre of modern action horror. Vampires, Zombies, Demons, Werewolves with a few pesky humans thrown in as well. You can check them out via the link below!
I am currently working on the third book of the Undead War trilogy as well as a new Fantasy novel and a stream of Fan-fiction for the TV show Psych. Look me up at psychfic.com.
I stare through the reinforced glass of the room that I woke up in. Below me, the cargo deck filled with crates. I know they contain food and weapons and supplies but I don’t care. I keep looking at the Kodiak - the shuttle that takes us out to planet-side missions. My heart rages in my chest and my blood boils. It’s been days since I got to see the spray of blood from my enemies; hear the tearing of flesh and crunching of bone; taste the tang of unfiltered air.
I need to get out of here.
Shepard promised me combat and my body screams out for that promise to be delivered. I understand now that this is normal for my people. We were born and bred to fight and nothing will change that, not even curing the genophage, the plague that stopped my people from over-running the galaxy. I don’t care about domination or revenge or my heritage or my future.
I need to kill something.
Okeer whispered to me in the tank. He told me our history and what it meant to be krogran. He showed me images of our people and the glorious battles they fought. But until I watched my first enemy fall before me, none of those words or pictures meant a damn thing. Watching that thresher maw fall and seeing those traitorous scum bleed out on the same battlefield. That taught me everything I need to know.
I need something to eat.