Crimson

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Crimson waves, the blood tide is rising.
This is no moon. We have landed on a living thing.
Are the natives a roaming immune system? Parasites?
No idea. We will samples so researchers back on base can make the call.
We can’t stay much longer. The landing gear cut up the creature something fierce, and it’s wanting to scab over.
The more we dig out the struts, the more patch-cells it sends.
As we lift off, I figure next time, maybe we’ll use a bubble-craft, something soft.
That’s when the tentacles hit the hull.
Brace yourselves, we’re going back down!

Make me pretty and dead

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“Make me pretty and dead,” said the model to the robotic plastic surgeon.
At least, that’s what the translation engine thought she said.
She stripped naked and stepped into the surgical chamber, watching the various lasers and scalpels warm up.
Behind her, a defibrillator prepared to administer a lethal jolt of electricity.
A technician ran into the room and shouted “STOP!”
The lights on the robotic surgeon all turned off, and the model covered herself with her hands.
The technician handed her a robe.
“Sorry, mistranslation in the software,” he said. “And, come on, aren’t you already drop-dead gorgeous enough?”

Weekly Challenge #218 – Rent

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighteen, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Rent!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
Guy David
Steven
Zackmann
TJ
Norval Joe
Justin
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


Guy David

A rift opened and the little green men started pouring out. The message was played over and over again in every known language: “people of earth, your attention please. Your rent is overdue. You would be evacuated.” Gravity failed and people started drifting out into space, screaming. Some people tried to hang onto furniture and other odd objects but the little green men zapped them with ray guns until their grip failed. They demolished all the buildings and made sure every trace of humanity was erased forever. When it was all over, the quadropods moved in. They payed in advance.

Steven

Anton dropped the drained husk. “My first real kill,” he whispered.
The longing, a lonely emptiness he’d never really noticed had
vanished, filled with the pulsing warmth of blood.
Kelenthia slid behind him, raven hair brushing his ear. “You did
well, my fledgling,” she said. Her fangs sank into his neck. It was
not the willing surrender of the Change. She forced herself into him,
and took, and took, and took.
She left him lying there, the gnawing emptiness back in his gut.
“The extra, the passion, the pleasure belongs to me,” she’d said.
“Consider it rent on your afterlife.”

Zackmann

I was so glad when we bought our first house and didn’t have to pay rent and not so glad when we moved into our second house with a Home Owners Association. I suspect that Home Owners Associations were devised by Edwin Windsor of How to Succeed in Evil because in addition to paying two mortgages and property tax you also get to pay rent to have bitchy neibors and keep all houses the same color. Not that the Rent paid to HOA is all bad, it did pay to re-shingle the roof and maintain a small rarely use park.

TJ

Peals of laughter rang out from the back yard as Wubbles the Clown
chased the children around the bouncy castle and through the
shrubberies. According to the game they were playing, whoever had his
balloon was “it” and everyone would chase after him, and when
Wubbles had it, the kids chased him until he “tripped” and it was
all one big pile of kids and Wubbles and giggles and clown shoes. Until
the police showed up and tackled Wubbles and took him away, after the
real Wubbles the Clown escaped from the van and called in to the
Rent-a-Clown agency.

Norval Joe

Vastus Lateralis silently slid the two headed battle axe from its scabbard on his broad leather belt, his knuckles white, as he gripped the shaft angrily.
The dwarf stood nearly as tall as his shoulders were broad, taller with the rusted steel helm pressed down hard on his furrowed brow.
He jumped back suddenly as the silent hiss of a sword passed before him and rent his thick leather breastplate like silk.
“Ye’ll be stealing no more of me gems, elf,” he swore as he brought the heavy axe down between the pale green double glow of the thief’s eyes.

Justin

The beginning of the month is here; Time to pay the rent. I’ve been meditating to focus on stability and strengthening my inner self. This should help me keep my able to stay on task and not lose the jobs I need to do to pay the rent.
I walk the streets wearing my nicest suit. I find and invite a hobo for a meal and I take him home. I shove him down the basement stairs. He splashes at the bottom, screaming. I meditate. I can’t afford to have my sanity check bounce. I hate paying rent to Cthulhu.

Planet Z

“You don’t drink beer,” said my roommate. “You only rent it.”
He stumbled to the bathroom. The more he drank, the more piss on the floor for me to mop up later.
Bastard.
He was sloppy with his finances, too.
I just bought a timeshare on a keg of Guinness. Four Irishmen and I will make a bundle trading it up to double-malt whiskey.
Five years ago, I was investing in box wine fixer-uppers. Now, my wine rack’s full of every medal-winner from the past century.
If only I could get out of this dump and ditch the slob, right?

Lottery

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We entered the lottery, hoping for a big family.
It’s not likely though. The government reduced the prize pool again.
We’ll be lucky to get a dog.
As a pet. The Lottery Law says no eating pets without government approval.
What happened to us? Where did we go wrong?
Hope? Change?
How did we get from The American Dream to the government sterilizing and executing people for eating a stupid dog?
Madness.
Maybe, just maybe, we’ll win. We’ll get the big family.
The lottery agent whispers “No laws against eating children anymore, you know.”
And they taste better than dog.

The Guest

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“You have a guest,” said the investigating priest.
Sally rocked back and forth on the vomit-covered bed, staring back at the priest with weary red-rimmed eyes.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” she said.
“We refer to occupying spirits as ‘guests’ now,” said the priest. “No need for rudeness while negotiating a mutually-agreeable solution to this dispute.”
“SHUT UP AND GET THIS FUCKING DEMON OUT OF ME!” shouted Sally.
“I need to consult my manager,” said the priest, and he pulled out a cell phone.
“WHAT??????”
The demon was shocked, too.
And easily dislodged.
“Works every time,” said the priest.

Betrayal

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My friend, my love battered bloody through the streets of Jerusalem by the angry mob.
I feel every blow.
This was a mistake.
He falls at my feet.
“I forgive you,” he groans, and falls.
I should not have pointed him out.
I kneel to help him up, but I am pulled back by two Roman soldiers.
“Thank you, Iscariot,” says one, the other tossing me a bag.
Clink.
I pour out the silver coins into my hand.
Twenty-eight.
Twenty-nine.
Thirty.
He asked me to do this. He wanted to die.
I throw down the coins and scream “WHY?”
Silence.

Molt

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Looking down at the stumps of my thighs, I knew it would be a rough morning.
I dragged myself into the kitchen and ate my way through the food inside.
The horrendous pain came next.
Biting down on a dishrag helps a little.
Close your eyes. Try not to scream.
When the burning sensation dulled to a warm ache, I flexed my new toes and stood up, wobbling slightly and steadying myself with a chair.
The old ones are rotting in the hallway.
I hope these feet are a size I’ve already got. Buying new shoes is such a hassle.

Caretakers

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The war is over, declared the machines.
Sensors watched the radiation levels drop.
When they were low enough, probes went out to scan the planet for signs of life.
Not much, but some.
The machines gathered up what they could.
As cleanup systems went to work on the ruins, genetic templates kept in storage were imposed onto the surviving organics to undo the ravages of mutation and gamma-ray damage.
Some genetic lines died. Some survived.
As each landmass was declared safe, replanting and restocking routines seeded the planet with life again.
The machines sank under the oceans and shut down.

Mean Streak

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Sally Marie Simmons was known as “Sally Mean Streak” long before the day the prom queen’s hair fell out.
One vote was the difference, but that’s all it took for Mean Streak to lash out.
As Jessica Baker rain screaming through the halls, her hair leaving a trail behind her, Mean Streak was scanning the paper ballots.
She had insisted on voters having to write out the names instead of check a box.
Then, she fed in stacks of handwritten essays.
Handwriting samples for the computer to analyze.
A list of names appeared on the screen.
Sally grinned and laughed.

Weekly Challenge #217 – There’s an elephant in the room

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Seventeen, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s There’s an elephant in the room!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
Guy David
Steven
Zachmann
TJ
Justin
Norval Joe
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


Guy David

The landlord opened his mouth and closed it in a fish like fashion. A sound came out of his lip not unlike the merger of a washing machine and a tardis. Finely, he came back to his senses and said “The sign outside this apartment strictly states ‘no pets allowed.'” I smiled and said simply “this is not a pet.” “Oh yeh?” he retorted, now growing a little agitated “then what is it?” “Why – it’s an elephant” I stated. “And what do you need and elephant for?” he asked, angry and exasperated. “That’s easy” I said, “to hide the giraffe.”

Steven

“No,” Sandra said, as the small grey animal on the floor trumpeted.
She stalked past, through the kitchen toward their son’s room.
“You like elephants,” Andrew said. “Remember, that clown who made you
the balloon elephant?” He picked up the pachyderm. “This one’s about
the same size, honey.”
She called upstairs to their son. “James! Time to go to come home.”
“You could play with the elephant,” Andrew said. “Or James could,
while we talked.”
Their son careened down the stairs and took Sandra’s hand. They went
outside, slamming the door behind them.
Andrew petted the elephant. It trumpeted quietly.

Zackmann

I was wondering what gift to give my friend who seemed to have one of everything when I heard an ad for something I though my friend could never have owned. It was cool, original, and big. Really big. A life sized china pacaderm figurine. How was I to know he already had one since it took up almost his entire living room but no one ever mentioned it. Even after the second one I bought was delivered. I just thought it would go well with the life size eight hundred pound gorilla figurine his mother got him for Christmas.

TJ

Elegant conversations among the glitterati and cognoscenti delighted
birthday girl Meghan Sullivan no end as she turned 29 once again. But a
pall passed like a wave through the room and the tinkling champagne
flutes and laughter declined significantly as BP chairman Tony Hayward
arrived on the scene. Of course he was an old friend of the family and
naturally couldn’t be uninvited although Meghan felt this would be a
perfectly acceptable moment historically speaking had he feigned some
sort of illness. How awkward. No one expressed much sympathy when the
elephant in the room stepped on top of him.

The elf noted that for the plan to work they’d need more arrows. The dwarf pointed out that both a shield phalanx and extra spears would be required. The elf in mentioned that they would have to contend with swamps, bad weather, and gathering food on the mission, since it would be impractical to carry that much with them. The dwarf noted the spies, traitors, deserters and roustabouts to contend with. The elf finally mentioned that the real oliphaunt in the room was the seventeen different armies they’d have to defeat. The dwarf said that that only counted as one.

Justin

The elf noted that for the plan to work they’d need more arrows. The dwarf pointed out that both a shield phalanx and extra spears would be required. The elf in mentioned that they would have to contend with swamps, bad weather, and gathering food on the mission, since it would be impractical to carry that much with them. The dwarf noted the spies, traitors, deserters and roustabouts to contend with. The elf finally mentioned that the real oliphaunt in the room was the seventeen different armies they’d have to defeat. The dwarf said that that only counted as one.

Norval Joe

The animals sat around the large round table, the pressure of a dead line hung in the air like a foreboding black rain cloud.
“There’s an elephant in the room?” The bear asked.
“Too flat and generic. How is that going to brand our product?” the rabbit asked, his contempt as thick as honey.
“Th, th, th, that’s all folk?” the small pig stuttered.
“That’s trademarked, we’d get sued,” the owl said and shook his head.
“Heffelumps and woozels steal honey?” the bear suggested, after a long pause.
“Now you’re talking, Pooh, boy,” the tiger laughed, “who, who, who, who.”

Planet Z

I checked into the hotel, followed the bellhop down the hallway, and as he opened the door…
I saw an elephant in the room.
“This is going to be a problem,” I said, watching the elephant devour peanuts from the mini-fridge.
The bellhop looked at the elephant and sighed. “You wanted a room with an African elephant, not an Asian elephant?”
“Exactly. I prefer African elephants.”
He nodded, went back to the front desk, and returned with another room’s key.
“Right this way,” he said.
I’m still not happy, though.
They charged me for the peanuts. Eight dollars a packet!