Category: Fiction Fragment Friday Page 1 of 26

Fiction Fragment Friday

This is not my usual kind of story. I started with a few lines and was influenced by a show on television in the background. It is short, but I felt like if I kept writing I would just be dragging it out and it would lose the impact. It’s much better to let the scene end where it naturally felt right.

                It was not the worst karaoke I had ever heard, but it was easily within the top five.  Of course, I had not been on a blind date with the other four.  To be fair, though, I was in fact one of them myself.  She had warned me she was bad, but I had not listened.  That made the assault on the ears of everyone in the bar my fault.  Let’s just consider that a lesson learned.     

                “See, I told you I was horrible.” 

                “No, no, you were fine.”   

                “And you are a terrible liar.” 

                That was not the first time I had been told that.  It is one reason I don’t play poker.  Not enjoying the game, being poor, and having no real friends were some of the others.  I don’t know what makes me such a terrible liar, but if I did, I probably wouldn’t be one.

                “Would you prefer to be on a date with someone great at lying?”

                She gave me a little laugh and smiled.  “No, thank you.  Been there, done that.”  A serious look came over her face, but it vanished almost as quickly.  “Well, now that I’ve thoroughly made a fool of myself, how are you going to return the favor?”

                “Since karaoke was my idea, it seems only fair to let you pick.” 

                “Oh, really?”  Her smile told me I had just made a big mistake.   

                Thirty minutes later, I found myself in an empty art studio, standing on a raised round podium.  Oh, and I was in a ridiculous pose wearing only my boxers.  I said a silent prayer of thanks that I had worn a new pair that night and there weren’t any holes.  “Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” 

                She leaned her head further out from behind the easel. “Well, it’s my studio, and I gave us permission, so I think we’ll be fine.”

                “So, you’re an artist?”

                “You came in here and stripped down, but now you ask if I’m an artist?”

                “Hey, when a beautiful woman I’m on a date with tells me to take my clothes off, I do it.” 

                “I don’t know whether to feel flattered for being called beautiful or concerned that it takes so little to get you to strip.” 

                “You know that was a joke, right?  Not the part about you being beautiful; that part I meant.  I’m actually really embarrassed here, but I felt bad about pressuring you to sing.  Also, it’s kind of cold, so uhm how much longer do you need me to stand here?”

“Oh, I finished my sketch five minutes ago.  I’m just enjoying the view now.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.” 

“Well, I guess that means I’m a better liar than you are.”  She spun the easel to let me see her obviously incomplete sketch of me.  “Not sure what that says about me.” 

Even unfinished, the picture looked amazing.  The abs were a clear sign she was being incredibly generous with her interpretation.  She turned the easel and went back to sketching.  Something felt different, though.  I decided I needed to break the sudden awkwardness.    

“You know it’s going to be pretty hard for our second date to top this.” 

“Pretty confident there going to be a second date there.”  The mirth was back in her voice. 

                “Well, I certainly hope you aren’t the kind of person to get a guy’s pants off and then not return his calls.” 

                That earned a deep laugh.  “I’m more of a text kind of girl.”

Fiction Fragment Friday

This week’s Fiction Fragment Friday truly lives up to the name. It is a full flash fiction, but it is also a fragment of a larger story. I’m not done with this story. I like what I have set up enough that I want to continue it into a longer short story or even a novella. Only time will tell if I follow through on that thought or move on to other inspirations.

                “Clear.  3…2…1…”  James hit a button on his tablet.  The four plasma breaching charges glowed brightly as they melted through the outer airlock hatch.  Their environment suits prevented the scent of melting metal from reaching the trio.  After a few moments the seal was broken, and James was able to pry the doors open. 

                “Yeah baby.  That’s what I’m talking about.”  James strolled through the lock onto the derelict ship. 

                “Congratulations, you opened a door,” Margret said as she followed him through the open airlock. 

                “Seriously?  Would you two take at least the bare minimum of caution?  We have no idea what’s over there.”  Thomas shined his light in every corner of the room before entering.       

                “Where’s your sense of adventure?” James asked as he pried open the inner airlock door.

                “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have one.” 

                “I have a very well developed sense of adventure.  It just takes a backseat to the practicality of making sure you two don’t get yourself killed.” 

                “It’s a derelict with no signs of life or power.  What danger could possibly be here?”  James didn’t even bother looking before he walked into the larger room. 

                “That’s just it.  We don’t know.  Sure, our scans say there’s no life or power readings, but we have no idea who or what built this ship.  What if they used power sources we can’t detect.  There could automated defenses just waiting for trespassers.” 

                “Shut it, you two.  We’re here to make money and that means some risk.” 

                “Yeah Thomas.” 

                “I said shut up.  There’s going to be risk, but that doesn’t mean we should act like idiots.  Take basic precautions.” 

                “Yes, Ma’am.”  They said in unison.  James added an exaggerated salute. 

                “If you weren’t my brother…”  She let the statement stand as she also stepped out of the now damaged airlock. 

                The three found themselves in a room about three times the size of the airlock.  A powered off control panel was mounted on the wall, and the walls were lined with metal doors.  James immediately reached for one and opened it. 

                “Whoa get a load of this,” he said as he pulled out a space suit.  “Four arms.”   He held it up to himself, showing that it would only come to his chest but was significantly wider than his own suit.  Two of the arms were positioned at the shoulders, but the other two arms came out straight from what would be the lower stomach on a human.  Each hand had only four fingers.  Four on top, and one on bottom.  “Definitely not human.” 

                “Congratulations boys.  We’re going to be rich.”  Margret opened another locker and pulled out what appeared to be a gun.  It didn’t fit her grip quite right, so she held it out with two hands.    

                James took the gun and spun around the room posing with it.  His finger accidentally pushed a metal peg on the underside of the weapon forward.  The gun vibrated in his hands as a beam of energy shot from the end, melting a fist sized hole in the locker right next to Thomas’s head. 

                Thomas jumped back letting out reflexive curse.  “You idiot!  You almost killed me!” 

                “Sorry.  It was an accident.  The trigger pushes forward instead of pulling back.” 

                “James, you put that gun down this instant.”

                 He reacted to his sister yelling out of instinct and dropped the gun.  “You sounded just like mom there.” 

                The room lit up, an alarm blared, and an automated announcement in a language they had never heard echoed through the room.  A clunking sound could be heard as locks on all the lockers engaged.

                “I told you, but no one ever listens to me.” 

                “That’s not helping Thomas.”  Margret hit a button on her helmet to radio their ship.  “Windfall, this is the salvage team.  We have a major problem over here.”  She waited a moment with no reply.  “Windfall come in.”  There was no response. 

                Thomas frantically tapped on his tablet.  “Our signal is being blocked.” 

                Behind them an energy barrier snapped to life blocking off the air lock.  The far doors slid open and two large robots with treads rolled into the room.  Their silver frames reflected the flashing lights.  Each had two articulated arms, another pair ending in multifunction tools, and shoulder mounted guns moving to stay locked on to them.  They spoke in an alien language, but it was still obvious they were giving commands.

                “Down on the floor.  Don’t make any sudden moves.”  Margret followed her own orders and dropped to her knees keeping her hands in view.  The other two reluctantly followed her example.

                One of the robots rolled forward keeping its weapons trained on the salvagers.  The other moved to the weapon James had dropped and picked it up.  A clicking sound could be heard as the locker it came from unlocked and opened.  The robot placed the gun back where Margaret had found it and closed the locker afterwards. 

                Thomas turned his head to James.  “I told you so.” 

                “Not helpful,” Margret replied. 

                The second robot examined first the hole in the locker door and then the damaged airlock.  It rolled to a stop in front of Margret.  It continued speaking first the harsh alien language, but slowly English words started to emerge.  “Weapons fire is prohibited.  Ship damage is prohibited.  This will be your only warning.  Return to your ship now or we will be forced to awaken the creators.” 

Fiction Fragment Friday

This story grew out of combining a handful of writing prompts. Once again I take an absurd concept and twist it into a story with heart. I did not intend to do that when I started, but as frequently happened the story is what I discover while I’m writing.

              I awoke in a dark damp cave.  That’s not entirely true.  I awoke in a very sophisticated pod that happened to be located in said dark damp cave.  The floor was covered with cables and the pod itself was sitting on a dolly like it had been wheeled there from somewhere else.  The only light in came from lit torches hanging on the wall. 

               “Ah, you’re awake.  Care for a spot of tea?” 

               I turned to face the voice and might have screamed if my brain would have allowed me to accept that what I saw was real.  Standing there was a Tyrannosaurus Rex in a black top hat and jacket with very tiny sleeves.  He had to lean over so his head didn’t hit the roof of the cave.  Just to add to my confusion he was holding out a mug of tea towards me.  If you are wondering how tiny T-Rex hands could do that well he was using a long metal reacher that seemed to have its grip modified for his claws.

               “You’re a T Rex.” 

               “Quite right.  And you are a human.  I’ve been waiting quite a long time for you to wake up.  Is that a no on the tea?”

               “No…  No thank you.” 

               “More for me.”  I flinched as he opened his giant jaws, but instead of moving towards me he just lifted the mug up to his mouth with the reacher and poured the entire contents in all at once. “MMM That does so hit the spot.  You don’t know what you are missing.”    

               “How?”

               “Oh dear.  Did the statis damage you?  Can you not speak more than a word or two at a time?”  He leaned down extremely close to me.  I couldn’t help but think that he could probably swallow me whole.  Instead he tilted his head to more easily examine me.  I could smell the tea on his breath as my hair blew back from his exhale.

               “I’m just really confused right now.” 

               “That’s fair.  I suppose two thousand years of sleep will do that to a person.  Though you weren’t actually asleep.  Being frozen in a moment of time it should have felt like just a moment to you.”

               “Frozen in time?”

               “Of course.  How else would you have lived two thousand years without any enhancements.  I confess I had rather hoped for more intelligent questions.  Do you have any idea how long I’ve been watching over this vault by myself?”  He started walking down the tunnel away from me.  “No, of course you don’t. You’ve been asleep.”  He stopped and glanced back over his shoulder.  “Do come along?”                

               I had to nearly run to keep up with him.  I don’t think he realized how much faster his large strides made him than I was.  We followed the tunnel for what felt like five minutes before coming to a very large, cavernous hole in the ground.  Metal stairs to scale with a tyrannosaurus rex spiraled down.  Along the wall were more pods like mine.  Hundreds, or maybe even thousands, of them.  Starting the top row were three empty spots. 

                “Who are they?” I asked, staring down the hole. 

                “Why, humans of course.  I suppose they might have names.”  He said, looking back at me.  Then he started down the stairs.  “I would have thought that was obvious.”

                “How did they get here?”  I followed him down the stairs cautiously, not caring for how they shook with every step he took.    

                “The same way you did, I’d imagine.”

                I had no idea how I had gotten there, so that answer wasn’t particularly helpful.  “Well then, who built all this?”

                “Your questions suggest rather peculiar priorities.  I tend to focus on how to keep it all running.  Seems more practical.  Then again, I suppose that’s why I’m the caretaker and you are not.”

                Seeing an opportunity to get useful answers, I jumped at it.  “Who gave you the role of caretaker?”

                “Oh my.  That was so long ago.  I believe he said his name was Reggerald or Regrigard, or no I believe it was Reginald.” 

                “How long ago was that?” 

                “It is so hard to keep track of time in a cave.”  He stopped suddenly and spun to face me.  I tried jumping to avoid his tail, but found myself pushed against the railing anyway.  Seeing my distress, he immediately backed away.  “Terribly sorry about that.  Anyway, computer, how long have I been the caretaker?”    

                “Nine hundred and seventy-five Earth years.”  The flat, emotionless voice came from all around us. I looked around but couldn’t find any speakers that it could have come from.

                “How is that possible?  How long do your people live?”

                “My people? Oh no, I have no people. I assure you there is only one Bowrigard. As for how long an ordinary tyrannosaurus might live, I could not begin to speculate.  I, however, have been rather extensively enhanced for the role.”

                “That sounds lonely.”

                He stopped on the stairs and regarded me for a moment.  “How very perceptive.”   He turned and continued down the stairs.  “Right then.  On we go.” 

                We went the rest of the way down the stairs in silence.  It wasn’t uncomfortable, though.  Instead, it felt like we had crossed some sort of invisible threshold.  At the bottom of the stairs was a giant computer system, complete with an array of monitors.  He settled into the largest chair I had ever seen, complete with a curved area to support his tail.  Just when I thought the sight couldn’t get any more surreal, he sat down his reachers and picked up modified versions that ended in single fingers.  I just stood there watching a Tyrannosaurus Rex sitting at his computer pecking away on the keyboard one letter at a time.

                “What are you doing?”

                “My daily system diagnostics.  Don’t worry, I’ll just be a moment.”  As slowly as he was typing, I had to question just how quickly he would be done.  I didn’t want to distract him and make it take even longer, so I wandered around trying to take my situation in. 

                I waited until he was almost done to ask my next question.  “Why did you wake me up?

                “I thought you would never get around to asking.  The world outside our cave is being repaired.  I’m afraid despite my enhancement I am not exactly qualified to judge if it is ready for humans.”

                “So, I’m the canary in the coal mine?”  I meant it as a joke.

                “I don’t believe this cave was ever a mine, but I suppose it might have been.”

                I sighed and just shook my head.  Then I thought back to the missing pods in the top row.  “I’m not the first you’ve woken up, am I?”

                He looked at me and then lowered his head to break eye contact.  “No.”

                “What happened to them?”

                “Bernard taught me everything I know about humans.  He even gave me my name.”  He turned to the computer and brought up a picture of a middle-aged British man on the screen.  Silence filled the cave for a few long moments.  “I mourned him for years when he didn’t return, but that was nine hundred years ago.” 

The image on the screen changed to a woman.  “The job goes on though, so I tried again two hundred years later with Kylie.  She came back but refused to talk about what she saw out there.  In fact, she refused to talk to me at all.  It was resentment towards me for waking her up.  She told the computer that the world wasn’t survivable.” 

 “We lived together in this cave system for the rest of her life, but she avoided me.”   He turned his chair to face me.  “And now you are awake.”  

I thought about his words for a moment before responding, “I think I will have a cup of tea after all.”        

Fiction Fragment Friday

Ok, this one was fun to write. It felt like something I would have written a few years ago more than the things I have written lately.

                “You are so beautiful.”

                Her head tilted to the side, appraising me in the manner of a pet dog.  “You compliment the woman who is going to kill you?  It will not grant you any mercy.”    

                Ok I admit it wasn’t my brightest moment.  In fairness, though, the Crimson Sorceress really was hot.  Her long red hair hung down over pale, bare shoulders.  It was her eyes, filled with fire, that really drew me in, though.  That’s not a figure of speech either.  You can see actual flames in her pupils.  I won’t discuss what she was wearing lest you think I was a pig for noticing it.        

“Well, you don’t have to kill me.  We could talk.” 

“You have entered my home uninvited.  If I let someone do that and live, it would set a bad precedent.”  She stated it plainly, without emotion.  It wasn’t a threat, but just a simple statement of fact.    

“See, that would be a horrible waste of my talents.”  I spun with a flourish, letting my cape catch the wind.  With the slightest touch of magic, I summoned my favorite guitar into my hands.  When facing her again, I strummed a chord.  “For you see, I am a bard.  I can spread your legend far and wide.”       

“I am already feared far and wide.” 

“Ah, but feared for what others say about you.  How much greater would it be to choose what is said about you?  None of those stories speak of your magnificent beauty or the power I can feel radiating off of you.  I could do that for you if you would but let me live.”     

“A bard,” she said with contempt in her voice.  “Tell me foolish bard.  Why would you dare enter my home?  Did you not realize I would tear your skin from your body?”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to be here,” I mumbled to myself.    

“What was that?”

“Why, to see you, of course.  To see you with mine own two eyes.”  My party was supposed to cause a distraction to draw her away from the castle.  Something had obviously gone wrong. 

“Then it had nothing to do with my possessing the only cure for the curse inflicted upon Princess Felicia?  I hear the reward has gotten very large.” 

“What is money to one such as I?”  Except for everything I want and don’t have that is.  Of course, I was there for the cure.  I wasn’t about to admit I was going to rob her though. 

“Certainly not something you have if your outfit is any indication.” 

Now, that was just rude.  Sure, my leather armor wasn’t the best and my breeches had a few holes, but my hat is spectacular.   

“Especially that gaudy, one-feathered hat.” 

“Who are you to judge my fashion sense?  I’m pretty sure this gaudy hat has more material in it than your entire outfit.” 

She laughed.  The single most powerful and scary individual I have ever been face to face with laughed.  “Considering how garishly oversized it is I just might have to concede that point.  The difference is…”  She ran her hands up and down her body.  “I make this look good.” 

                She wasn’t wrong, and it pissed me off that she knew it.  “Be that as it may, it must get very lonely in this rather large empty mansion.”  I took the hat off and gave her my very best smile. 

                “You are a bold one bard.  I will give you that.”  She smiled back at me and sat down on her throne.  I did not let out a whimper as she crossed her legs, and you cannot prove otherwise.  I certainly didn’t say anything because at that moment I could barely breathe.  “What should I call you bard?  I wish to know the names of those that I kill.” 

                I cleared my very dry throat before answering with a bow.  “I am Sir William Parks.  The Bard’s Bard at your service.” 

                “And just what kind of service do you think you could provide me with that I might spare your life?”

                In that moment, I felt like a piece of meat dangling before a hungry beast.  So, I did what I do best.  I sang.  I sang a song of her beauty and power.  A song of flattery.  Then I sang a song of my own prowess.  I sang while our party thief elsewhere in the mansion stole the cure that I had been there to get. 

                So, you see, yes, I did spend the night with the Crimson Sorceress.  I was not however, being lazy or a lecherous fool as you so slanderously claimed.  I was merely providing the distraction that you were supposed to have given me so our thief could complete the mission.  I bedded her not for my own glorification but in the ultimate act of teamwork.    

                Feel free to apologize any time now.

Fiction Fragment Friday

This story started off with a ridiculous first few sentances getting stuck in my head. I just could not get them out and so I decided to write it. I went in knowing it would be a wacky funny story, but not how it would turn out. I think there is a strong narative here dispite the premise. Maybe becaue of it. Either way I love a good time travel story. I also love whatever this is.

                So, this is how the world ends.  Not with a bang or a whimper, but with a fart.  It would be ridiculous if it wasn’t so tragic.  The blind date was going perfect until I felt that rumble in my stomach.  It was going to come out and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.  I tried to excuse myself, but the moment I stood it came out.  Of course, that was also when the song playing in the restaurant ended, leaving the room completely quiet to better highlight my flatulence.

                My first instinct was to ignore it and hope she hadn’t noticed.  The other patrons bursting out in laughter and applause made that impossible.  My date just buried her face in her hands and slid down in her chair out of embarrassment.  She could not make eye contact with me, but I could see how bright red her cheeks had gotten. 

                I don’t remember what happened next, but I can piece it together with context clues.  I walked out of the restaurant leaving my date at the table.  Then I got in my car and drove home on autopilot.  Once I got home, I went into my basement, set the time on my experimental time machine for earlier that day, and jumped back in time. 

                That meant that there were now two of me existing at that moment.  I obviously couldn’t let my gas filled previous self go on the date and mess everything up again.  Instead, I tasered him and tied him to a chair in my basement while I gave myself a second chance to make a first impression. 

                Things were going so much better the second time around.  I knew what jokes would land and left out the ones that had flopped before.  I ordered my steak a bit rarer than I like knowing they were going to overcook it.  We even managed to get a better table because we were able to get there slightly sooner avoiding the road construction that had delayed us the first time.  It was the perfect date.

                Then while wildly gesticulating during a particularly compelling story I hit the waiter in the stomach.  He stumbled, dropping a tray of fresh drinks right on my date.  She screamed in shock and desperately started pulling ice out of her cleavage.  Her purse on the floor had been open for some reason and all the water poured directly into it.  Once again, the patrons laughed and clapped. 

                On the third attempt at the date, I choked on my steak and threw up all over her.  For the fourth the original me managed to get himself free and I was the one stunned.  I’m not sure how he screwed it up, but by the time he got back I was free and jumping back to fix it.  So, the fifth time found four previous versions of myself tied up in my basement while I once again tried to complete the perfect date.  I knew how I had gotten free twice before so I made sure that would not happen again.

                Something felt off on the fifth date.  I had already heard all her stories multiple times and they were losing their charm.  My jokes that had been so spontaneously funny were coming out like practiced lines.  Not to mention after having three previous meals that night I just could not eat.  It made the meal extremely awkward.  She fidgeted on her phone some and by the end of the meal got a call and needed to leave for a family emergency.  That had not happened in any of the previous dates.  My night had gone from the perfect date to a failure and I couldn’t figure out why. 

                Before trying date six I realized I needed to take some time to reflect.  I also needed to sleep, let my meals digest, and take a long shower after all the struggling with myself.  This date needed a new approach.  I also needed to figure out what I was going to do with the other four versions of myself locked in the basement.    

                I woke up refreshed and ready to try the perfect date again.  I got ready and then jumped back once again.  Now I had five versions of myself tied up in the basement.  I stood there staring at my past failures.  “Ok me.  We have a problem.  I’m going to go nail this date, but while I do I need all of you to figure out how we fix there being six versions of us.”

                “You’re just going to screw it up again,” said four.  Or was it three? 

                “You should let me go.  I’m the only one that hasn’t screwed it up yet,” said what I’m pretty sure was one.     

                “He has a point,” said a voice behind me that I now realize was seven.  Then I was reminded of what the taser feels like.  

                I woke up tied to a chair again.  The others were all talking.   “What’s going on here?”  I asked.  There were two versions of me untied now. 

                “Simple,” said seven.  “We are all sharing our date experiences.”  He pointed to the other untied me.  “He can now go on the date still fresh and avoid all of our mistakes yet still hear the stories for the first time.  It’s the perfect solution.” 

                I remembered how awkward my last date had been and had to admit there was logic to the approach.  I decided to let this attempt play out since if seven was here my current plan obviously wasn’t going to work.  Once we all agreed and one was off for the date seven untied the rest of us.  We still had to figure out how to deal with all these temporal clones.

                For the next hour we were so proud of ourselves.  We planned out a second date, sketched out improvements for the time machine, and apologized to each other for all the tasing.  I think if we had been around each other longer we would have gotten annoyed by the things we don’t like about ourselves, but for that brief moment it was like having a room full of best friends with everyone getting all the in jokes. 

                When one returned with a mortified look on his face all our hopes were dashed.  “I farted,” he said.  I thought back through the stories and realized that none of us had warned him about that. 

                Before any of the other versions of me could react, I ran to the machine and jumped back.  I arrived in time to see seven stun six who now was no longer me.  I moved to stun seven, but then more versions of me started to appear.  I might have been the first to reach the time machine, but the rest of them got there right after me.  So, there I was in my basement.  Fourteen versions of me.

                The fight was brutal.  We all knew how to hurt ourselves and of course were evenly matched.  Well, the couple versions that had eaten multiple full dinners did move a bit slower.  That was when I had the idea to jump back and stop the machine from being completed until after the date.  If it wasn’t available, then none of these versions could come back.  It would just be me and an original me until after the date.  I couldn’t let any of them try to come back and stop me though.  I needed to sabotage the time machine on my way back.

                In the chaos I slipped away and fiddled with my machine.  All set I jumped one final time knowing it would fry behind me.  What I had not taken into account is that anything I could break thirteen other versions of me could fix.  After a few attempts there were thirty-seven versions of myself in one very cramped basement arguing.  Above our heads spacetime itself had been ripped open and was growing at a startling rate.  I’m not sure if it was all the versions of myself or breaking and fixing the same time machine multiple times, but something was just too much for reality to accept. 

                That was it.  The end of the world.  The end of the entire universe and it was all my fault.  I just had one final idea.  I jumped back another week.  Instead of tasering myself I stayed hidden and just stole my own cellphone.  I got far away from myself before it rang.

                “Hey Jamie,” I answered.

                “I’m worried about you.  You spend way too much time by yourself in your basement.  I’ve got a friend I think would be perfect for you.  How do you feel about a blind date?”

                “Sorry Jamie.  I think I’m going to have to pass.  Maybe next time.”  I hung up the phone.           

Story Sunday

It’s not Friday so lets just call this Story Sunday. I did start writing it on Friday, but only barely got started.

You all know I love Tokusatsu. For anyone who doesn’t know that is the term for live action practical effect tv shows with big over the top colorful hero characters. Obvious examples are Super-Sentai which is known as Power Rangers in the United States, Kamen Rider, Ultraman, and even Godzilla himself has connections to this genre.

This is not the first story I’ve written to take inspiration from the genre, but it is probably the most blatant.

                Warning sirens have been blaring for minutes.  The ground shakes under our very feet.  My team is out there somewhere fighting an army of mass cloned creatures to protect our city.  They’re good, but it won’t be enough without me.  Meanwhile, I’m trapped in a crowded elevator stuck between floors without power. 

                “Ok, I think something crawled up inside that dog and died.”

                The woman is right, but I don’t appreciate her pointing out what I’ve been trying to ignore.  We barely have room to move in this elevator, and the air was already getting stale.  Either this dog here with us has serious digestive distress, or someone is trying to blame it on the dog.

                “Sorry, he farts when he’s scared.” 

                I wish these people would just shut up.  My friends could be dying out there, this elevator could fall at any moment, and all any of them can talk about is a farting dog.  I’m not even sure how they can notice over the perfume the woman in front of me is drenched in.      

                My communicator goes off in my pocket again.  The best I can do is hit the button to silence it, but even that is difficult with how packed in we are. 

                “Whose obnoxious ringtone keeps going off?”  I can’t even see the face of the guy complaining because of how dim the emergency lights are. 

                My eyes strain looking at the ceiling for one of those escape hatches that they always have in movies.  If it is there, it certainly isn’t out in the open.  No way I could get to it around these people, anyway.           

                The building shakes again, and the elevator dramatically drops a few feet.  The woman in front of me screams, the dog yelps, and this time I don’t blame either of them.   I need to get out of this elevator. 

                “Hey someone up front, try the doors again,” I say, hoping maybe we have fallen into position.  My heart sinks as I see them pushing the buttons.  “No, try to pry it open.”

                I wipe the sweat from my face as it stings my eyes.  The elevator is hot, and I can’t be sure if it is just the body heat or a fire somewhere in the building.  Light comes through the crack in the door, and I can tell we are mostly aligned with the floor.

                The door is almost open when the dog suddenly starts to growl at it.  I see why instantly.  There in the hall, two grotesque clone soldiers are turning towards us, raising their guns.  I wouldn’t have seen them in time through the crowd if not for that warning.

                I leap into the air over my fellow passengers and just barely make it through the door.  I think I may have kicked a few of them in the process, but it couldn’t be helped.  The two holding the door get startled and lose their grip.  I land in a perfect combat pose, crouched low to the floor as the laser blasts hit the now closed elevator doors behind me.

                “You two have no idea how unlucky you are,” I say as I charge forward, punching the one on the right in the face and kneeing the one on the left.  A spinning sweep takes them both off their feet and dual punches to their stabilization modules on the chest finish them.  I will never understand why the device that keeps their clone DNA stable is built into a raised letter T on their chests.  I’m grateful though because it makes them easy to beat. 

                I pull my communicator out of my pocket and hit the button.  “Guys, I’m here now.  What’s the status?”  Outside the window, I see the twenty story tall monster.  It looks like they used rhino and elephant DNA mixed with electronics to create this one. 

                Relay our robotic assistant came over my communicator.  “Oh thank heavens you’re there.  The monster is called GoreTrunk.  The others are holding it off, but they can’t form the CyberWarrior without you.” 

                “Have the drone meet me on the roof.”  I pull out my Cyberkey and make the motions in the air needed to trigger it.  “Cyberpower unlock.”   In an instant, from some extra-dimensional space, my suit appears around me, helmet and all.  It doesn’t matter how much muscle I put on, it always fits perfectly.  I once had a cast on my arm, and it still looked like it was skin tight.  It may look like spandex, but it certainly is not.  It absorbs kinetic impact and can’t be cut or burned.  None of this will ever make sense to me. 

                I slide out the door onto the roof just in time for a red cable to drop down and latch onto my arm.  Making a pose with that arm up in the air, I’m pulled through the sky and deposited into the waiting cockpit of my giant mech.  It is a ten story tall robotic red dog.  “Ok guys, bring it together.” 

                “We need CyberWarrior Power Now” We all yell in unison.  Mine and the rest of my team’s mechs all start transforming with parts sliding into each other and joining into a much larger robot.  My chair slides down and joins the others in one joint cockpit. 

                “Sorry I’m late, guys.” 

                “Better late than never.”

                That is my team for you.  No matter what I do, they are always there to support me.  Today, though, I’m in no mood to waste time.  As soon as our power bars reach max I hit the button and a plasma sword forms from our giant robotic warrior’s hands.  “Time to send GoreTrunk packing.”  The CyberWarrior moves in sync with my motions, and we deliver the finishing blow. 

                I should be happier, but from up in the cockpit I can see all the damage done to the city while I was trapped in the elevator.  I can only imagine how many people were hurt.  We follow so many rules to fight evil, and I can’t help but wonder if there isn’t a more efficient way.                      

Fiction Fragment Friday

There is so much I could say, but I’m going to save updates for another day. I have plans for the website, plans for submisisons, and overall thoughts on moving forward creatively. I don’t want to take away from this story though.

I started this story out with just the first line and watched the worldbuilding happen around it. I wanted to take you on an emotional journey and I believe I achieved that.

As the scene reached its conclusion, I realized I didn’t have closure. It was a strong start, but it wasn’t actually a flash fiction story. All I needed was that one final paragraph to wrap up my themes.

Did I give you all the answers? No, but that is a different story. This one isn’t about the bigger elements. It is about the emotional journey of one man.

                My fingers bit into the flight couch’s armrests.  If there is one thing you normally don’t want to hear aboard a spacecraft it is nothing.  The engines hum, the air vents blow, and a million other systems become the background that defines life.  As I sat there with only a single display for illumination the silence was deafening. 

                The view through my cockpit window was completely obscured by the largest ship I had ever seen.  The most advanced scanner I had access to in that moment was my own eyes.  Even with that limitation I could identify hangar bays, turrets larger than my own ship, and railguns I suspected were over a mile long.  I wasn’t sure if our entire defense fleet could defeat this single vessel. 

                I shielded my eyes from the bright light that filled my entire cockpit.  It took a few moments to convince myself that I wasn’t dead and let my eyes clear.  Outside my cockpit glass only empty space remained.  My two hours of hell were finally over. 

                “Computer, bring all systems online.”  A small part of me tried to feel grateful that no one was there to see my moment of stupidity.  It was drowned out by the silence reminding me of how alone I was.  Without another word, I typed the startup command into the only active console on the ship.  The engines spun up providing power to the rest of the ship.  Over the next five minutes the rest of the ship systems came online.  I’m not sure how long I sat there just listening to the sounds of a functional ship. 

                “Computer, perform a full scan of the system.  Report any anomalies.” 

                While I waited for the results, I opened the communication system.  Where I expected to see logistical beacon traffic I found nothing.  Normally I would find screens of transponder codes, but I was the only one transmitting.  Echoes of distress signals bounced around the system, but nothing was actively transmitting.  The solar system showed no signs of life. 

                “Full system scan complete,” the ship responded in the emotionless tone only a computer can produce. 

I started scrolling through the results.  Each screen told a story I did not want to read.  No other ships could be detected in the solar system.  Where every orbital, station, or asteroid mining platform had been, now there was only debris.  Worst of all, the single colonized planet in the system showed signs of intense volcanic activity, tectonic plate shifts, and its moon had been cracked in half.

I broadcast a text only message in hopes that other ships had hidden like I had.  In that moment I didn’t trust my own voice not to break.  After a moment to regain my composure, I prepared all three of my communication beacons.  They were loaded with the scan results, all data gathered just before shutting my systems down, and my eyewitness report.  It wasn’t enough, but it was all I had.  Each beacon departed along a different vector toward the closest colonized world in that direction.  I had no idea where the ship had gone, but if its destination was one of those three solar systems, the message could still reach the other two.                

                   I just sat there staring out into space for a while before a flashing light on my console caught my attention.  It was an incoming message.  I looked in the queue and saw replies to my text broadcast arriving one after another.  Transponders started coming online throughout the system.  Tears of joy flowed from my eyes, and I realized that I was laughing.  I wasn’t the only ship to hide.  I wasn’t alone.

Fiction Fragment Friday

For this week’s story I used writing dice. They gave me the following elements:

• Loneliness
• Fantasy Setting
• Present Day
• Alternating POV
• Vs. Society
• Optimistic
• Martyr Complex
• Man
• Uneducated

From those prompts I crafted an idea and since Alternate POV was required I crafted two characters.

This story did not end where I wanted it to. I had another scene in mind that would have hit on a couple of the dice results that I had not yet worked in. Unfotunately I have an upset stomach and decided I was done for the night. Hopefully I will return to this and finish the remaining scene I have in mind someday as well as give it an actual editing pass.

                “Orin!  Where are you, boy?”

                No matter how generous you are, never pick a pig farmer’s uneducated son as your assistant.  I felt bad for the kid, though.  Figured I would give him the chance to see the world.  He just can’t do anything right, though. 

                “I’m in here, sir.  Just finished cleaning your sword.” 

                See, that was the perfect example.  Instead of arranging for supper, he had been cleaning my sword.  I hadn’t even used my sword that day.  The boy just had no sense of priority.

                “Tonight is your lucky night.  Lady Esmerelda has agreed to go to the Starlight Gala with me tonight.  That, of course, means that you get to go as well.  I need someone to distract her handmaiden so we can sneak off for some private time after all.  Do try to make yourself presentable.  It’s being hosted by the Grand Arcanist, and you don’t want to insult a wizard of his caliber.”     

                “I’ll do my best, sir.”

                Of course he would, but I wasn’t confident it would be nearly good enough.  He just didn’t clean up very well for such a prestigious event. 

                “I know you will, boy.  I know you will.  Now, would you mind telling me why there is a dead body in my bed?”    

***Ten Minutes Earlier***

                There are days I think I would have been better off staying on the farm.  I thought that exact thought as I opened the door to our room at the inn and found a ninja going through Sir Reginald’s bags.  He had five mythical relics, a dragon egg, and two magical keys to the higher realms.  Were these items in his multidimensional bag that only he could access?  No, of course not.  He used that to store his jerky and “tasteful” etching collection.

                “Drop the bag,” I said, trying to sound threatening.  I was unsuccessful based on how he lunged at me with a knife.  The scream I let out as I dodged to the right was less than manly. 

                “Can’t..we..talk..about…this?” I asked, dodging another slice between each word.  I held my hand up and said, “Berazzle.”  The one and only spell I knew sent light bursting from my hand, momentarily blinding the ninja.

                I took that moment to dive across the room and grab Reginald’s sword.  It glowed brightly in my hand, which I can only assume was leftover magic from my spell.  I twirled the sword with a skill I had never possessed.  It felt like the sword just knew how it should be wielded.

                Pain shot through my left shoulder, almost making me drop the sword.  I looked down and found that a throwing knife stuck out of it.

                “Ow,” I said and lunged forward, driving the sword into the ninja’s belly.  He fell back, sliding off the blade and onto the bed.  I pulled the mask, but the face underneath was not anyone I recognized. 

                I glanced down and saw the sword covered in blood.  Knowing Reginald would be back any moment, I rushed to my room and started to clean the blade. 

                “Orin!  Where are you, boy?”   

                Hearing Reginald, I hurried to finish the blade and slipped back into the main room.  “I’m in here, sir.  Just finished cleaning your sword.”

                I tried to smile and hoped he wouldn’t notice the blood seeping from my shoulder.  I needn’t worry.  He had never noticed when I was injured unless it inconvenienced him.    

                “Tonight is your lucky night.  Lady Esmerelda has agreed to go to the Starlight Gala with me tonight.  That, of course, means that you get to go as well.  I need someone to distract her handmaiden so we can sneak off for some private time after all.  Do try to make yourself presentable.  It’s being hosted by the Grand Arcanist, and you don’t want to insult a wizard of his caliber.”     

                “I’ll do my best, sir,” is what I said.  In my mind, I thought of all the ways the night could go wrong.  Particularly if Reginald were to be caught by Lady Esmerelda’s overprotective brother, or even worse, her fiancé.

                Under any other circumstance, I would have been excited to spend time with Lady Esmerelda’s handmaiden Abigail.  She is simply the most perfect girl to have ever lived.  I wish I could be a smooth talker like Reginald, but when I’m around her, I’m lucky if I don’t bite my tongue while I’m tripping over it.          

                “I know you will, boy.  I know you will,” he said, opening the door to his bedroom.  “Now, would you mind telling me why there is a dead body in my bed?”