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Aaron Crocco can be summed up as a writer and a podcaster, but complicating issues further is the fact that he's a huge geek, Apple fanboy and loves Back to the Future so much that he owns a Delorean.

In the mid-2000′s his writing spark was reignited and he's been tearing up the keyboard ever since, slinging words all over the place. Aaron's apocalyptic debut series AS DARKNESS ENDS explores the end of the world from many points of view. His short story PARADOX was published in November, 2011.

He hails from Long Island, NY, the home of fishing, hockey, and Billy Joel. Aaron enjoys hockey, rock and roll, way too much ice cream, Nutella, and coffee.


It came out of nowhere. A rock. A killer.

It was bigger than anything I'd ever seen since breaking orbit, but that wasn't saying much for a rookie like me. My console alerted me to the spinning asteroid and woke me from the warmest blanket of a dream. Of course, that's how it always happens, right?

I make my way up to the cockpit, though it's only on the other side of the thin partition of my shuttle. The Gen-Mark II was designed to hold four and that's how it was filled when we left dock last year. Now mine...

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Her joints screamed as the winter chill ran through her veins and iced her skin. It was so cold out and this blizzard was never-ending.

Julia huddled around the oven pumping heat into the 500 square-foot apartment, something her mother said to never do but it's not like the heat worked.

"Why the hell did I go out there?" Julia said aloud to the appliances.

She threw Ryan out for a reason but months of anticipation made the actual act much harder. She wasn't even sure if it was going to be today, but in the end it was. He...

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There's somebody standing in the corner of my room. The shadows play with the darkness but I'm not sure who it is. I look into the black trying to find clues as to her identity. Was it Heather? Perhaps Julie. The dunken stupor of waking in the middle of the night was never good for my senses.

The previous hours were engrossed in crime, passion and recharge. Our time moving towards Ethan's death came forth at lightning speed and before he knew it, the small stainless dagger had plummeted into his chest. You could call it an accident (and we...

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Malcolm's coo became a cry. It had been hours since we had locked ourselves out of the house but it made no difference to him or his needs. The boy wanted his parents but was incapable of the simple act of walking over to the door and unlocking the deadbolt. The life Malcolm led was one of constant need, one of dependence.

The debilitating accident last year 'scrambled his circuits' as his mother put it but while the rest of the family wrestled with the fact that my son would never walk, eat, speak or function on his own, she...

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