[Story] You are a mighty barbarian warrior in a world of Swords and Saucery

I have taken some liberties and written from the other perspective


The great warrior Hyuh raised his bastard sword with a “hyuh!”…the self-centered bastard.

Meanwhile, I held my hands right by my holsters, ready to draw; wriggled my fingers a bit ’cause that’s what all the others do.

“Ready, big man?”

“Whenever you are,” I challenge with a confident stare.

Bad move. He comes at me in a screaming charge, sword swinging back for the blow that was bound to seperate my head. I’d grown fond of it throughout my years, too. I wriggled my fingers again for good measure.

Steady

Steady…

Draw!

I pull from my holsters in one smooth swing, aiming and pressing firm to fire…and the massive beast of a man falls in a heap to the earth, skidding to a halt.

After a dead-silent moment, the heap moved, and Hyuh groaned. “Oh! Oh! Is that ketchup? And mustard? Oh man, why would you do that?”

I tilt my hat, and put on my deepest one-liner voice. “I just relish the challenge.”


Inspired by a writing prompt from Reddit

[Story] Area 51 is not what you think, the real secret is much more sinister…

Every child (and many, many adults) thinks they know what’s in Area 51. Aliens, right?

So I was understandably feeling curious when I was ‘invited’ to find out, on the first week of my job. And a little apprehensive, to be honest.

“Right this way, Mr. President,” gestured my guide, a man in a dark suit and darker glasses. ‘Call me X,’ he’d said. I would have made a joke about Men in Black if I wasn’t so high-strung. He tugged the roller door to the massive shed, and as my eyes adjusted, it revealed…a concentration camp.

I knew it immediately, between tales my father had told, and what I’d seen portrayed in movies. Hopeless, wasted-away individuals, all packed together behind a chain-link fence. Only this time, they weren’t Jews, or even human. Wide green eyes stared back at me, three from each shrivelled black face. They had claws…emphasis on the had; it looked like they’d been sheared right off.

“H…ha…home.” One of the creatures croaked.

“What? How could we do this to them? I thought we’ve always been looking for aliens for peaceful contact.”

The man’s lips pursed. His shades hid anything in his eyes; what I wouldn’t give to see them now.

“These aren’t aliens, Mr. President,” he said.

“Holy sh-” I caught myself, “What do you mean, X?” Not aliens, that would mean..

“They’re native, sir. Call themselves the Nayatu. You of course know our tendency to ‘discover’ places that were already occupied. Columbus, Cook…and well before that, Captain Francis Ludo ‘discovered’ a planet called Earth. Hunted these guys almost to extinction. We built this place as a Nayatu refuge, but a thousand years of that treatment begets a lot of bad blood. Every time they are given the slightest piece of freedom, the Nayatu will rampage, kill anyone in sight, even in the beginning when we tried to give them the greatest comforts we could offer.

“So, well, we’re caught between a rock and a hard place, sir. We inherited this mess too, and we’re doing the best that we can. There have been six suicides in our ranks in the last month alone. The previous president ignored it, told us to ‘keep up the good work’. But I’m asking you sir, begging you, help us. Find a way to set them free, and us too.”

[Story] God exists, but isn’t all powerful. He hasn’t contacted humanity since he realised people expected an afterlife and he can’t figure out how to make one.

My wife cried by my beside; long, wracking sobs that tore at my heart.

“It’s alright, my love, I’m going to a better place. I love you.”

“I love you – hiccup – too, David . I’ll be with you soon.”

I passed away with a peaceful smile on my face.

And woke to the sounds of frantic hammering and sawing.

“Oh hey, you’re up,” said a deep male voice that inspired a feeling of peace. Before me was a bearded man in a red flannel shirt and jeans. He was hammering in fence posts while around him, some angels were sawing more posts, and one was gluing what I think were pearls to the little wooden gate.

“God?”

“Yeah, sorry about the mess up here, been working for centuries to get this place up and running. Pete here can give you the tour.” God cocked his head and looked to His left. “PETE! WE’VE GOT ANOTHER SOUL!”

An older man in blue flannel came running from the distance. In a huff of lost breath he said “Welcome..to heaven..Dave. Let me..show you.. around.”

I followed him as he proudly showed me all the work being done around the ‘afterlife’. There was a line of tiny trees, and stumps of the old ones that had been logged for building. Houses were being built all around too, little rough huts for the most part. Pete told me the more established houses were the long term residents.

“So…what do you think?” God asked, when we returned.

“It’s, uh…great! Yeah, really great ” I lied. He had such hope in his eyes.

“Great! If you’d like, I can get an angel to start building a house for you..it could be just a decade or two though, we have a bit of backlog. More souls every day, after all.”

I thought about my wife…my dear wife, coming to this place so soon. She had such high hopes, too, for the afterlife.

“I’ve got a better idea. You got any spare tools?”


 

Based on a writing prompt from reddit

[Story] You discover that what happens to your game character, happens to you

I met Kathy Newbie in the park on a bright summer’s day. The name triggered a feeling of deja vu, but I pushed it to the back of my mind.

We hit it off right away, and I managed to talk her into a coffee date the next day. We talked for hours, and before I knew it, we were a couple. A match made in heaven, our friends called us.

Flash forward several years and we’re married now. I’ve received several promotions and so we bought ourselves a house, a nice big one with a swimming pool and all. Life was grand.

Until one day, things suddenly changed. I’d come home some days to found her gone, and she wouldn’t tell me where she had been. One day I came home early, only to find her calling out: ‘Oh, Greg!’ I caught her in bed with this ‘Greg’, threw him out in a jealous rage and stormed out the door myself.

I went to the usual place I’d go to calm down: the swimming pool. Dove in to swim laps, cool myself off a bit.

When I calmed, I realised I was having that deja vu again, and this time I knew where it was coming from.

Kathy and Greg. I’d called my Sims that. Had them do exactly what just happened to me, when I’d grown bored with her first husband. And then I’d…

Just then, the pool ladder fell into the pool, and sunk to the bottom. The pool was too low-set to climb out without it.

Shit.


The title and inspiration for this story are from reddit.com/r/writingprompts

 

[Story] “The gods have abandoned us!” “No, we haven’t”

“This is Geoffrey Green with the Channel 6 News, live from Las Vegas. Breaking news this evening, as it appears that an asteroid is on course for a collision right in the centre of the city. We are told that the asteroid is large enough to destroy the entire city of Las Vegas. I believe I am right in saying that the gods have truly abandoned us.”

“I HAVE NOT.”

“What? Did anyone else hear that?”

Offscreen several voices agree

“Who said that?”

“ME.”

The reporter’s knees failed him and he fell to kneel. “God?”

“THE ONE AND ONLY.”

“Why have you abandoned us?”

“I HAVE NOT ABANDONED YOU.”

Geoffrey sighed with relief.

“I HAVE JUST RETURNED. TWO THOUSAND YEARS OF SLUMBER, AND NOW I SHALL PASS JUDGEMENT ON YOUR ‘LAS VEGAS’.”

“Oh, god damn it.”

“I SHALL.”

 


I’m back! Now inspired by posts from /r/WritingPrompts at Reddit, so stay tuned for more!

A Flower For Her Hair

775322_38517612  It was a fine Spring day when I first met her.

We crossed paths on a busy street, before a florist. She smiled at my smile; I was caught off guard when it lit up her face. My thoughts were unreadable to even me, until one thought rose over the static.

All she needs is a flower for her hair

Without really knowing what I did, my hand moved on its own, to pluck a single lilium head from the florist and place it in her hair. She touched her hair where it was, and smiled ever wider as she looked back to me. One fleeting instant, and before I knew it she was gone in the crowd and so was I.

 –

The days passed, and I could not forget her. I thought of her black hair adorned with a flower, and her deep brown eyes that lit up when she smiled.

 –

I met her the next week once again, in the same time, at the same place. We shared smiles, and I plucked a rose. She turned her head for me to place it, and as I did she leant into my touch.

I hummed a happy tune all day long, and smiled to myself.

The very next day I saw her again. My face warmed when I saw that she still wore the flower I had given her, and my heart began to beat out of control. If I didn’t say something to her I’d regret it for sure.

“Hi, I’m James,” I said with a smile.

She gave me a worried frown, and I panicked, the beating of my heart turning painful. Had I misread the situation? I rubbed my sweaty palms on my pants and tried again.

“You look really beautiful, especially with a flower in your hair.”

She smiled hesitantly and lifted her hands to her chest, pointing to herself, holding her heart, and pointing to the rose.

Oh! The realisation hit me in an instant, and my worry melted away. I mimed back to her as best I could.

I’ll. Read. –  How could I communicate sign language to her? I wiggled my fingers together in front of me, and she laughed, shaking her head. I joined in, sheepishly laughing at myself.

 She took my hand gently and turned it palm up, placing the rose on it. She mimed to me – You. Me. Here. Again. I nodded vigorously, already thinking of learning as much sign language as I could before we met again.

We parted ways for the day, and I already looked forward to our next time with eagerness. I visited the bookstore that very day, and spend long hours that night poring over The Beginner’s Guide to Sign Language.

I reached our place before the florist early the next morning, excited as I was to do this right. I bought a bouquet of flowers to give, as well as a single white chrysanthemum for her hair.

I’d learned some basic phrases in sign language – I’d spent a long time on ‘Would you like to get a coffee sometime?’

I continually look out for her while I reminisce on the first times we met. My heart’s fluttering uncontrollably again; here she comes!

She smiles when she sees me with the bouquet flowers.

Hi, I’m James, I sign, You look lovely today.

She brings her hands to her face and gasps, and I can see her eyes moisten.

Hello, I’m Emily, she signs to me, And it’s wonderful to meet you.

Let the Music Play [Short Story]

It’s cold outside tonight…but that doesn’t matter to the patrons of The Barnhouse. The warm lights, plentiful drinks and the press of people make it perfect weather for a night of dancing. The dresses twirl and the people sway.

“Come on in,” says the doorman with a smile, “Have a great night!”

People’s faces are flushed with drink; smiles and laughter are shared all around.

The doorman shivers with the cold. “Welcome,” he says, “Enjoy The Barnhouse.” He smiles to everyone, but it never reaches his eyes.

Some smiles fade as the night goes on. Drinks are traded for pills…smiles come back, and the people sway.

The doorman’s eyes are searching, always searching – soon, he sees what he’s been watching for.

“Sorry, we’re closed.”

The man gives a friendly smile and peers past the doorman. “But it’s still early! You’re not full, surely…be a pal!”

“We don’t serve your type here,” The doorman’s smile had disappeared, his eyes now a hard stare.

“Alright, then, I didn’t want to have to show this,” says the man, pulling papers from his pocket, “This warrant allows me to search this premesis, on suspicion of…illicit activity. You are required to let me in.”

The doorman’s eyes glinted and he flashed a predatory smirk. “Of course, sir. We have a side-entrance just this way.”

BANG

The sound echoed through The Barnhouse, and the people ground to a stop. Murmurs passed through the crowd.

The doorman came in, flashing his usual smile. “Nothing to worry about,” he called out cheerfully, “Just a car backfiring.”

The dresses twirled, the people swayed and the music played on.

Outisde, the man shivered. It was cold, so cold. The wind bit painfully at the wound in his chest. He watched as the air frosted with his final breath.