Hi there!

My name is Aurin. I write sci-fi, dark fantasy, and horror—exploring dystopian futures where technology is a gilded cage, dark fantasy realms brimming with corruption and magic, and horrors masked by devotion, where faith twists into something unholy and the past hides secrets best left forgotten. I'm a hoarder of tomes and tales and as a devoted scholar of history and mythology, I seek stories from across the ages, waiting to be told.

Follow for words, whimsy, and wonder—literary musings, humor, and snapshots included.

The best part of reading the classics is realising people hundreds of years ago had the same problems as us. ‘I am ruined’ could mean anything from ‘I have lost my fortune’ to ‘I said something awkward at a party.’

The Coffin Torpedo

In the late 19th century, concerns over grave robbing and body snatching led to the invention of the "coffin torpedo," a device designed to deter would-be grave robbers through explosive means. Patented in 1878 by Philip K. Clover, an artist from Columbus, Ohio, the coffin torpedo functioned like a small shotgun secured inside the coffin lid. If someone attempted to open the coffin, the device would discharge a lethal blast of lead balls, aiming to prevent the unauthorized resurrection of dead bodies.

Another inventor, Thomas N. Howell, patented a similar device in 1881. Howell's coffin torpedo was buried above the coffin and wired to it, operating like a landmine that would detonate when disturbed. An advertisement for Howell's invention read:​

Despite the fear of grave robbing, these devices were not widely manufactured or commercially successful. In most cases, having someone watch over the grave for a few days or weeks was sufficient to ensure the body had decomposed enough to be of no use to body snatchers. ​

AI 'Art' Commissions

Why pay for an AI 'art' commission when the whole point was to make art “accessible to all,” right? Just type your vague idea, hit enter, and voilà - your very own soulless masterpiece, no self-appointed prompt expert required.

Or - and hear me out - commission a real artist. Y’know, someone with talent and a soul.

I don't read books.

I surrender myself to them, get emotionally wrecked, and then recommend them to my friends so they can suffer too.

Men in gothic novels are either:

🩸Brooding aristocrats with dark secrets. 🩸Soft-spoken scholars who know too much. 🩸Possibly a vampire. 🩸Already dead, but that’s not necessarily a deal breaker.

📷 Moonlit Tides.

People say 'live in the moment' as if the moment isn't actively on fire right now.

Every book is a spell. Open one, and you step into another world, another life, another time.

"Things have been difficult lately."

🚫 Generic. 🚫 Completely lacks flair. 🚫 Could apply to anyone.

"The omens turn against me, and the winds carry whispers of a fate most unkind."

✅ Mysterious. ✅ Foreboding. ✅ Implies you’re attuned to dark, prophetic visions.

I don't read books. I fall into them, lose all sense of time, emerge only when forced, and then spend hours wandering around in a daze, haunted by fictional people.

📷 Northern Skies.

☐ Single ☐ Taken ☒ Emotionally attached to people who don’t exist.

― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles.

📷 Senja, Norway.

― Vincent Van Gogh.

The Witches' Mark

During the European witch trials, a "witch's mark" was considered a physical indication of a pact with the Devil. Authorities believed that such marks included moles, skin tags, or supernumerary nipples.

To identify these marks, accused individuals were often stripped and subjected to thorough examinations. The practice of "pricking" involved inserting needles or pins into suspected marks; if the area did not bleed or cause pain, it was deemed a witch's mark. This method was widely used across Europe, and professional witch finders often employed trick devices, such as retractable needles, to produce the desired results. In reality, these "marks" were typically natural skin blemishes or common conditions.