Animation and film is only a segment of my creative passion. Writing has long been another constant in my life. While I love telling stories through visuals mediums, there is a certain satisfaction, relaxation, and freedom behind getting the crazy thoughts/stories/emotions in your head quickly down onto paper (or the computer screen more often than not in MY case). Not only does it open up a vast world of imagination for the writer, but for the reader as well. It is that flexibility of wonder and visualization in one's own head, ignited through mere words, that visual storytelling simply cannot match. Writing has been a meduim and a craft I have enjoyed expressing myself through, long before I had begun to delve into animation.

Below I have posted a trio of links of my online published short stories. While they all fall generally under the fantasy/science fiction/surreal genre, they are all very different from another...

 "The New Atlantis" - Published on Liquid Imagination

"Gravitech Inc." - Published on 365 Tomorrows

"The Last Stop" - Published on Dark Fire Fiction

Online directory of published articles:
https://muckrack.com/stephen-lagioia

And for a fun little bonus, here is a sample chapter of a short story I have recently completed, from which my short film "Woods of Oblivion" is based on:

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Ben? Where are you?

A faint voice echoed in the distance, jolting him awake within an instant. He immediately recognized the voice to belong to his father. Ben stood as still as stone, struggling to listen more closely in order to track the source of the voice over the pounding of his heart.

“Dad??” he shouted back in the distance, but there was no response except for his own call carrying throughout and the endless barrage of crickets chirping.

Having been so rattled and shocked by the sound, Ben had only now come to realize that he found himself in the middle of Adure in the dead of night, engulfed by twisted and menacing trees.
The grounds below him were soft and muddy, so much so that he found himself slowly but persistently sinking. He struggled to take in his surroundings, not only because of the massive entanglement of trees and brush, but also because of the potent fog that hovered around him.
He wasn't sure why, but he had picked up bad vibes that seemed to radiate around him, as if a poisonous force had crawled up from the muck below and into his body. All he could think of amidst a chaos of panic in his mind was how he could get out. 

This overwhelming urge to escape had quickly shifted to a desire to locate his father in these eerie woods when the voice sounded again.

Ben? Are you there? Ben! Get over here! 
 
“Where are you??” he cried. Again, no answer.

OVER HERE. 
 
Ben nearly jumped straight out of the wetland from surprise as he heard his father's voice directly behind him, clear and close, as if he had whispered it in his ear. 

The feeling of uncomfortable vulnerability coupled with adrenaline quickly subsided as he suddenly found himself back in his bed. He glanced around in confusion, and he soon realized he had been dreaming. He sunk back into his bed, breathing a sigh of relief that his venture in the dangerous clutches of Adure had been imagined. Though the sigh was also one of disappointment, as just seconds ago, the very real hope of finding his father had permeated his mind. Now the prospect of reaching him seemed farther than it ever had.

As the disorder brewing in his head had begun to settle, his senses returned to him. Confusion had swiftly turned to frustration when he heard heard his cat scratching relentlessly at his window, increasing in intensity as both Ben and the antsy animal grew more frustrated.
“Milo, calm down! Sheesh! What are you, hungry? Hold on...”

Ben stumbled out of his room into the kitchen, dazed from exhaustion, but also still partially shaken from his recent nightmare. 

“Ugh, I don't know how you can eat this stuff.” 

He returned with a large bowl of cat food, turning away in disgust as the potent stench wafted towards his nostrils. He looked at his window, which had been partially opened, and realized to his dismay that he was talking to himself. The familiar gut wrenching feeling returned as he realized his cat had escaped.

How on earth did he manage that? And why? he thought to himself amidst the anxiety in his mind. Fidgeting with his windowpane, he noticed it was very loose and gave way with little resistance. A feline with little more than a paw and a desire to escape could in fact pull it off.. His frantic thoughts leaped back and forth from the idea of losing his pet, to the worry of his already peeved mother's response to his blunder.

“Milo!” Ben shouted desperately out his window. “Get back here, now! Ugh, this cat is will be the end of me...”

Shaking his head in disgust, he sped swiftly but quietly out his front door as quickly as his cat had made his unexpected exit, and took off running.

After several minutes leaping across the grass-covered village, he grew partially relieved when he saw the small black silhouette of his pet, sitting atop a shallow slope that cradled the quaint town beneath it.

Ben let out a beckoning whistle towards the hilly outskirts, but this only triggered his pet to sprint faster towards the dark horizon. 

“No, no dammit, Milo!” he whispered loudly, taking care not to wake any surrounding inhabitants. He didn't need the attention now, especially if that attention was to be brought to authorities. No, he had to be quiet and evasive, just as his soon-to-be refugee cat had taught him.
Luckily, the tall, soft grasses that wavered in the night breeze aided him in this effort as he continued to run towards the ever shrinking image of the animal.

“Milo! Get your ass back here, now!” he whispered harshly the distance, as if he would hear him, let alone obey.

As he continued his seemingly hopeless chase, what had once lined the horizon with dancing grass and brush had given way to large, ominous trees. The sight beyond appeared to be little more than a black wall with ruffled tops, stretching as far as the eye could see. 

Oh no, not there, Milo. Please...

He could do nothing now but helplessly watch, hoping his reckless cat would come to his simplistic senses and turn back, but to no avail. Within the blink of an eye, Milo had disappeared into the black tangle of death that stood defiantly, just yards away.

The swift trip towards the shallow hills beyond lasted only seconds, but to Ben it felt like an eternity as he prepared to meet the grounds of his past; the now forbidden woods of Adure. This place once invoked vivid feelings of bliss and comfort; reminding him of a simpler and more joyous time, accompanied by his father. Now it had withered to nothing more than a dim memory, marred by thoughts of terror. 

When finally he approached the lining of thick dark trees which had now towered above him, he let out a reflexive gasp as he heard faint voices carried by the breeze. He scrambled into a nearby bush and stood as quiet as his adrenaline-fueled body would permit. The once peaceful surroundings that were dominated only by cricket chirps was now accompanied by his pounding heart and the rustling of the band of men who drew ever closer. As their figures became revealed by the moonlight, he noticed one of them to be a towering figure that dwarfed even Granger, who happened to be walking alongside him. This giant sported an odd wardrobe that Ben did not recognize, and which he could only liken to a long cloak with an overlay of chain-mail armor that caught the moonlight. He did, however, recognize a large emblem of the Hive, shining on his back as he walked past Ben.

Behind Granger trotted Saul, who Ben was not surprised to see, as the man was known to follow him like an obedient dog. Accompanying them were a couple of other Guards who appeared to be of even lower standing judging from their shoddier attire and passive body language.

The men stopped dead in their tracks not far from him, and Ben tensed up even more, in fear that they had spotted him. After he had quietly and discretely peaked out of the thick shrub, he was relieved to find that their attention was fixed into the woods of Adure that stood before them, rather than the quivering Ben.

“Is the new shipment still on track for next week?” he heard the large man murmur. 

“You bet,” replied Granger quickly. “At least if my merchants don't screw me over.”

“Good. They're starting to run thin in there, and I would not have these people running around unchecked. All it takes is one curious renegade to stumble on ground zero and we could be in a world of  trouble...”

“Haha, the odds of that are pretty low... You got nothin' to worry about. We'll have the next batch here before ya know it. Once we do, there isn't a chance in hell they even get close. I'm telling ya bud, we've got things under control here. Trust me, alright?”

The man slowly stepped closer to Granger. Ben could not tell if this move was to intimidate the man, or to allow him to hear his soft spoken words. “Good, because if word does get out, you will be the first out of here, along with this heap of garbage you call a settlement.”

As Ben crouched quietly and tensely, his interest had peaked. Despite his bubbling desire to run back to the safe clutches of his village, even at the expense of losing his adventurous pet, he was intrigued to hear more. He couldn't even begin to fathom what these men referred to as the 'shipments,' and why they needed to meet discretely in the dead of night to discuss its movement, especially on the borders of the hostile woods. 

To his dismay, he would not have that luxury. Ben had done nothing more than subtly re-situate himself in the brush, but the resulting sound, however dim, was loud enough to draw the attention of the once preoccupied Guards.

Ceasing their conversation within an instant, they headed apprehensively towards the direction of the now quaking young man.

“Hello?” called a voice, which carried easily in the night's cold breeze. 

No no no, you damn idiot. Ben said to himself in frustration. His frustration towards himself might have now exceeded that towards Milo. 

With every once of willpower, Ben sat as stiff and silently as humanly possible, trying his hardest to imagine himself weightless as the wind, and still as stone. It didn't help. 

He could hear the heavy boots rustling through the thick grasses, making their way closer.
“Is someone there?” From his close proximity, Ben now recognized the voice to belong to Saul.
The one man who would love nothing more than to see Ben arrested – or worse. Just wonderful.
The source of the voice walked closer and closer. As Ben reluctantly turned his gaze from the ground below towards the approaching predator before him, he could tell that he was trapped. The man was zeroed on his target, and evasion was no longer a solution.

Somehow within the realm of his frantic mind, he mulled over his two remaining options. He could perhaps convince these men that he was in fact merely after his stray cat, but getting his nemesis to comply with such a story would be a long shot at best. Milo must have been long gone by now, and with him, any proof of Ben's sincerity.

The other option was to high tail it and sprint as quickly as possible into the woods, where he would  likely have little problem losing them. While the second choice may have been suicide to the average villager, to an experienced woodsman like Ben, he may have stood a chance. The unlikely possibility of an unwanted encounter with the Blood Wolves seemed preferable to the reality of facing the Guards, which were notorious for their “tough love” style of governing. Now that lockdown had commenced, Ben was certain their strictness would only intensify. Before Ben could reach a decision, he quickly realized his cover was now blown as the Guardsman apprentice had found him.

“Well well! Look who I found!” barked a grinning Saul as he peered into the bush at a frightened Ben. "You just made my job a little more exciting."

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