Tag: short story

Two ice cream sundaes on a café table beside a rainy window
Of Ice and Flowers

Of Ice and Flowers chapter 2

Autumn
Romantic book cover titled “Ice Cream and Bad Decisions,” showing a young couple sharing ice cream while the woman reads a note with a phone number.

“Hang on, let me check my phone,” Iris laughed as she playfully pushed against Justin, then she reached into her purse. She frowned when her hand closed around a napkin along with her phone, and she became absorbed in it as she stared down at the numbers written on it.

“What’s that?” Justin asked, peering curiously.

“It’s a girl’s phone number,” Iris replied, bewildered. She had wanted to forget that moment in the coffee shop, and had gotten close to achieving it, too. But now that she was looking at a reminder of her meeting with Lotus, she wondered why.

“Ooo, I didn’t know you swung that way,” he teased, ruffling Iris’s hair. “Is she hot?”

Iris batted his hand away. “She’s insanely hot, Justin,” she replied sarcastically. “A real femme fatale, who has a penchant for chai at your favorite cafe. That’s where I met her.”

“See? I told you that you needed to check that place out.” Justin laughed. “Are you going to call her? She sounds like someone I want to meet.”

“I don’t know …” Iris bit her lip. “I mean, honestly, if I did swing that way then I’d be all over her, but …” She shrugged. “It didn’t seem like she was interested in me like that anyway.”

“She wrote her phone number on a napkin for you, Iris. If that doesn’t scream of a desperate bid for attention, then I don’t know what would. At least call her once. Use my phone if you’re worried about safety.” Justin reached into his pocket. “Do it for me? Pretty please? I’d love to see you settled before I graduate.”

Iris gave him a shove. “I’m waiting for the right person, Justin. Lay off, okay?”

“Okay, okay!” Justin held his hands up. “But I have to tell you … Lacie doesn’t like that I hang out with you. She thinks I’m cheating.”

“I keep telling you to break up with her,” Iris muttered, trembling as she unlocked her phone.

“I think about it,” Justin replied more solemnly. “Hell, I’m avoiding her right now. Tell you what, if napkin girl isn’t crazy and if she isn’t a lesbian, then I’ll take her. I’ll dump Lacie and napkin girl will be my responsibility.” He winked.

“You’re terrible!” Iris rolled her eyes, then held out her phone and the napkin. “Can you tell me if I entered the number in correctly? I’m ridiculously nervous right now.”

“Yup!” Justin hit the dial button, then grinned as he handed the phone back to Iris.

Iris’s eyes went wide and she held her phone up to her ear, turning away. She held her breath as she listened to it ring.

“Hello?”

Iris wasn’t sure if she recognized the voice. “Uh, hi! Is this Lotus?”

“Speaking,” the voice replied. “Is this Iris then?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Iris.” She forced a tight laugh. “So, um, I’m here with Justin, and he said that he wants to meet you. Are you available to hang out sometime?”

“I’m available right now. We could meet for ice cream.”

Iris turned to look at Justin. “Do you want to meet her for ice cream?”

“Duh yes!”

“Yeah, we can go for ice cream right now. I guess there’s that place across the street from the cafe. We can get there in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll meet you there. Oh, and Iris … thank you for calling. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Yeah.” Iris hung up, then realized that her hands were shaking. She put her phone away in her purse, then balled them into fists to keep them steady. “Well Justin, you’re getting your wish. Are you happy?”

“Ecstatic.” He put his arm around Iris’s shoulders. “I’m envisioning a future of cake batter flavored ice cream for myself. What about you? Peanut butter fudge again? You’re paying, right?”

Iris shook her head. “You wanted to meet Lotus, so you’re paying. Fair’s fair!” she stuck her tongue out, then laughed nervously as she dug through her purse for her car keys.

Image generated using AI, words 100% mine.

Steaming coffee cup beside a frosted window with a purple lotus
Of Ice and Flowers

Of Ice and Flowers chapter 1

Autumn
A woman in a purple dress with floral patterns sits at a café, holding a drink, while another woman in a white blouse stands nearby. The background features elegant decor and greenery, with the title 'Of Ice and Flowers' displayed prominently.

Lotus pursed her lips around the end of her straw and took a sip, her eyes fixed intently on the back of a young woman who was staring up at the menu board of the cafe. Lotus set her iced chai down, and unconsciously gripped the hem of her skirt around her thighs. For a second she closed her eyes.

I found her, Shangri-la!

The woman’s cheery voice began her order, and Lotus wondered how she was going to approach her. Part of her wanted to be blunt, but a sense in the back of her mind said that she shouldn’t approach a stranger cold with an offer like, “Would you like to transform into an animal?” However, time was running short as the barista turned to prepare the coffee, and Lotus had to do something to gain her attention …

The cafe door opened and a breeze rushed inside, billowing through Lotus’s long auburn hair with an unusual warmth then passing on to tickle the back of the woman’s neck. She stiffened, then turned. Their eyes met, and Lotus smiled.

Thank you, Shangri-la.

The woman paused, then turned to accept her coffee from the barista. She stood hesitating for a moment, then walked over to Lotus’s table. “Uh, hi,” she said with forced cheerfulness that didn’t cover for the awkwardness underneath. “Have I seen you around campus? You look familiar.”

“Probably not.” Lotus rested her chin on her palm. “But I agree, something about you seems familiar. Maybe we’ve passed by each other here before.”

“This is actually my first time here.” The woman raised her cup slightly. “Justin swore it was worth it, so here I am!” Her voice finished on a tight high-pitched note.

“Then maybe it’s fate.” Lotus laughed slightly, but her eyes were carefully studying the woman’s reaction. “My favorite is the chai, both hot and cold. Next time, you should try that.”

“Thank you, I think I will.” The woman’s cheeks were starting to turn red, and Lotus could sense that she was preparing to disengage as her weight shifted backward.

“Do you go to the college then?” Lotus asked. “I want to enroll next semester, but I’m not exactly a brave sort and I don’t know anyone around here. It would be nice to start with one friend.”

“Oh, yeah.” The woman reached down into her purse to pull out her phone, and she stared at the screen without touching it. “I’m sure that Justin and I could give you a tour of the campus. I remember how much the small things help.”

“I would deeply appreciate that.” Lotus reached into her own purse and pulled out a pen, then plucked a napkin out of the dispenser on the table. “Here’s my phone number,” she said as she wrote it on the napkin. “Is Justin your boyfriend?”

“Oh, no. No. We’re not …” the woman shook her head and trailed off. “I’m sorry, but I do need to get going.”

“I shouldn’t keep you.” Lotus held out the napkin. “My name is Lotus, by the way. It’s been very nice to meet you.”

“I’m Iris.” She hesitantly took the napkin. “It’s been nice to meet you, too. I hope that you have a nice day.”

“See you, Iris,” Lotus said with a smile, then turned back to sip at her drink. Iris stuffed the napkin into her purse with her phone, then hurried out of the cafe, awkwardly bumping into the door as she did so.

It’s definitely her, Shangri-la. I found your key.

Author’s disclaimer: Artwork was generated with AI then edited in Canva by me. Words are 100% mine.

Stories

Concept Story – Astra & Corin

Autumn

I’m experimenting with file sharing between devices and also testing out a new compact keyboard (which mostly feels normal except for some of those middle keys), so I wrote this. Because why learn with boring content when you can exercise your creativity?

This is the same idea that I wrote about here with this concept story, only I like the new names better and I am now more mature as a person. 😆

Also, between you and me, the AI generated picture for this story is hilarious. 🤣

Astra hefted Corin on her back, her eyes locked on the boughs of the pine tree above them. She adjusted the four-year-old’s grip around her neck, but his arms squeezed uncomfortably tight. “Hey,” she whispered. “Let me breathe, will you?” She tugged at his arm again. “I’m going to run to that house over there, so you need to be good for me, okay?”

Corin remained silent and his arms stayed stubbornly in place. Astra glanced towards the house and gave herself permission to briefly feel scared that the front door would be locked despite the broken windows, then her eyes went back to the pine tree branches.

“When They start to move away, that’s when I’ll run. They won’t see us, I promise.” She felt the four-year-old’s face press into her back, so she reached to pat his head. “You know that I’d never let anything bad happen to you, right? We’re going to be okay. They won’t see us.”

The thought that Corin believed and trusted her made Astra feel more certain in herself. She wouldn’t fail him, no matter what – she’d find a way to keep her word and preserve the innocence that had been entrusted into her care. She wouldn’t allow herself any other options.

Besides, Corin’s half-brother wouldn’t forgive her if something happened to the child, and sometimes Astra thought that she was more afraid of him than of Them.

“Okay … Okay …” Astra closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, then her hands clamped Corin’s legs against her sides and she jogged as best as she could towards the house. She forced herself to keep her eyes on the ground to ensure her footing through the overgrown grass, rather than checking the sky to see if They had noticed. The clearing felt impossibly long. Her heart beat harder with the fear that she had made the wrong decision with every footstep, until finally her legs strained as she darted up the steps of the house. The front door opened easily, allowing them into safety.

Stories

Concept Story -Cognitive Robot

Autumn

This is what I originally imagined ages ago when I first came up with CR1515 as a character.

Writing currently feels like scraping the sides of a peanut butter jar — I know there’s enough there for a sandwich, but I sure have to work for it.

Every day was a series of tasks as people with tablets watched and took notes. Cognitive Robot 1515 performed as directed, beginning with following basic orders then progressing to solving challenges and puzzles. Sometimes he worked on mazes, word searches, and Sudoku. Other times he was instructed to perform mundane tasks, like placing a wrapper into a lidded garbage can then taking the entire bag out. Always with people watching, always with tablets.

Early on they had attempted to engage him in conversation, but he hadn’t responded to negative inputs in a satisfactory manner. They had completed an emergency shut down, then their eyes had been glued downwards on their tablets as CR1515 rebooted, and someone muttered about working out the bugs.

From then on, the only words spoken to him were instructions.

But CR1515 was a learning robot, and he was learning about more than the tasks given to him. He listened to them talking to each other, about him, about their homes and families, about their thoughts and emotions. He absorbed every word, then accessed the file at night when he was alone in his charging station to replay it and wonder. The lab was the only world he knew, but they lived somewhere bigger that intrigued him yet seemed too distant to experience himself.

The days began to feel strange, as if the tasks weren’t the main purpose of his existence anymore, as if something else was supposed to happen instead. But what? He was content with each completion, content to silently listen, and content to recharge when the day was through. That indefinable notion that had infiltrated his algorithms had formed a hollow space inside of his circuitry, and he kept its existence silently to himself.

Every day continued to be a series of tasks as people with tablets watched and took notes. He tracked the passage of time with no attachment to the number, and continued to learn.

Alice and the Warden

Alice and the Warden – 3

Autumn

Alice had met Damon when she was sixteen-years-old, and he had talked her into bed with him that night. Shortly afterwards, she dropped out of school to run away with him on his motorcycle, and somewhere along the road she lost her sense of self.

When Damon asked her to have sex with a friend to repay a favor, she did it. When he wanted leverage over someone, she became a seductress on his behalf. He taught her to steal, chose her clothing for her, and pushed her into drugs and alcohol. After four years, Alice had disappeared completely underneath Damon, to the point that when he asked her to confess to murder, she did it without hesitation.

Until the moment Alice found herself alone in the stall of a public restroom, staring down at the two lines of a nicked pregnancy test, too numb to feel her heart beat. It was then that the word ‘dignity’ had risen up sharply in her mind, spoken by that stupid, impotent warden she had vowed to hate just three weeks prior.

Dignity.

She still didn’t know what it meant, but she knew that if she told Damon he would insist on an abortion, and she wouldn’t argue against him. That wasn’t what she wanted, and she knew that it wasn’t dignified to be so blindly obedient to someone like Damon. There was no doubt that he was the father, but she couldn’t trust him with her baby.

She never told him.

A couple weeks later, they checked into a motel where Damon began to undress her as usual, but Alice didn’t have it in her to go through with it. She was more tired than she had thought possible, slightly nauseated from the pregnancy, and angry at Damon for using her too much. For the first time ever, she snapped at him to ‘fuck off,’ then for a terrifying second afterward thought that he was going to hit her in response.

Instead, he grabbed his bag and left.

When dawn broke in the morning, Alice awoke with the realization that he hadn’t returned. She waited, staring at the clock until the motel staff chased her out to prepare the room for the next guest, and she drifted to a nearby diner to continue her wait, knowing full well that he wasn’t coming back for her.

She had a $20 hidden in her bra, so she ordered blueberry pancakes with whipped cream to help make up for skimping on dinner the night before, and she ate slowly as she wondered about what she was going to do. Her mom wasn’t going to want her back in the state she was in – especially after four years of estrangement – and everyone she knew was exactly like Damon. She didn’t have any resources, but she couldn’t live in the gutter with a baby growing inside of her.

By chance, the small TV in the corner of the diner showed a mugshot of her with the words, “Wanted for questioning.” Alice stared, seeing herself for the first time. That girl, glowering at the camera with flamingo pink hair and far too much eyeliner really looked like the sort of person who would be involved in murder, even though Alice had never felt that way on the inside – she didn’t want to hurt anyone.

She dialed the phone number provided on the screen with her cellphone, then put her $20 on the table before slipping outside.

With nowhere to go, Alice turned herself in.

NEXT

Stories

Angel

Autumn

This is something else out of my archives, written ages ago when I was on the cusp of maturity but Not Quite There Yet.

I think it is hilariously over-the-top melodramatic, but it sure is fun to reminisce on how my writing skills have changed over the years.

The heartache gripped her again, painfully constricting her throat as she watched the familiar scene pass her by for the last time. She wasn’t going back. She knew that no matter how her parents reacted, she couldn’t force herself back into the world that they had chosen for her. Yet she grieved at how badly she had failed their expectations.

Angel was now officially a college dropout. After two years, she succumbed to the overwhelming anxiety and depression produced by homework and exams, and admitted to herself that she couldn’t do it. Higher education just wasn’t meant to be part of her.

Her parents had pushed her into enrolling that first Autumn, despite the doubts that she had tried to share with them. They provided her with very little financial support, and made it clear that her continuing to live with them was dependent on her going to school. The thought caused Angel’s throat to hurt again. How was she going to survive? Another thought, dark and unwanted, hoped for a catastrophic falling out, leaving her free from their cold demands.

She was frightened. She was excited. She had asserted herself, and the ax was now poised to fall. It was comforting to know that her parents were away for the weekend, giving her time to collect herself before being struck by the blow.

Thoroughly distracted by the conflicting emotions surging through her, Angel got up automatically when the bus pulled over, and stepped off. As it drove away, she looked around her for the first time, then realized that she had gotten off too early. It would be a long walk to her house. With a sigh, she started down the street.

The sun was touching the western horizon, adding deeper golden tones to the yellow Autumn leaves. Although Angel enjoyed the stillness of the moment, she was worried that it would be dark soon. She had never been outside alone after dark, and didn’t know what to expect, other than the horror stories that her mother had told her. She berated herself for messing up again.

By the time she reached the bridge, the sun had fully set and the streetlights were flickering on. Angel’s heart was pounding, and she was glad to reach the landmark that signified that she was only a mile away from home. During the day she would often come to the bridge to watch the river flowing by, but at night the place seemed menacing. The river was dark, and seemed louder and swifter. Angel stopped in the middle of the bridge, and followed the compulsion to look down into the unknown. The sound of water seemed to deafen her, and for a moment she wanted to throw herself into the swirling depths, unconsciously stepping onto the bottom rung of the rail to lean over farther, yearning to answer the call from below her. Realizing what she was doing, she pushed herself forcefully away from the edge, then turned and hit something soft and warm. She stood stunned, and only when the figure spoke did she realize that it was a person.

“Pardon me,” a deep voice resonated, and Angel’s cheeks burned red as she quickly stepped back.

“Pardon me,” she repeated with a weak voice, then quickly tried to dodge around the man to continue on her way home. He caught her arm in his hand.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Angel avoided looking at him, focusing on his shiny black shoes.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she answered quickly, making a slight attempt to pull away. “Please, let me go.”

He watched her silently for a moment, his hand never relaxing. Angel began to quietly panic, certain that the horror stories she had grown up with were about to come true. After a moment, the stranger said, “I’m certain that you aren’t telling me the truth. A moment ago you acted like you wanted to commit suicide, and now you look like you’re about to faint. Tell me the truth now: are you all right?”

Something in his words made Angel look up with a start, and their eyes met. He wasn’t old, though Angel couldn’t guess what his age was, and his face was stern. His black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes were dark. He scared and exhilarated Angel all at once, causing her heart to leap and burn with unfamiliar sensations. She felt driven by some unknown force to obey him.

“No, not really,” she said, and he let her go, keeping her in place with his gaze.

“What has you so frightened?” His voice commanded the same obedience; stern, calculating, but not unfriendly or harsh.

Angel’s bottom lip trembled. She was ashamed of the fearful thoughts that raced through her mind, and of the failures that the day’s events culminated in. Even though she badly wanted to, she couldn’t open up to this man. She didn’t have the strength to.

“Don’t cry,” he said in a much softer tone. “It’s okay if you can’t tell me.” Angel nodded, but her refusal to relax perturbed the man. He stared off into the distance, frowning slightly, before saying, “I’m going to get you something to eat to make this up to you. I had no intention of making you feel worse, and it’s now my obligation to fix it.”

“No, no.” Angel resisted feebly. She liked the idea that he had proposed, but she felt like she couldn’t accept it. After she said the words, however, she realized that choosing to drop out of college had changed the course of her life, and that after rebelling against her parents’ wishes in that regard, there was no reason for her to keep following them in this case either. She liked the man, and the way that he exuded strength and self-assurance. She liked that he had noticed her. So, after a pause, she said, “Yes.”

“Are there any places that you would like to go?” he asked.

Angel thought for a moment. There was a diner nearby that she liked, though she had only been there a couple of times before. She gave the name of it and pointed in its general direction, then felt embarrassed for choosing such a casual place. The man was dressed too nicely to want to go to somewhere like that, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He set off down the sidewalk, then looked back and summoned Angel to follow with his eyes.

“My name is Murrich,” he said as they went.

“Angel,” she replied.

“Very fitting.” Murrich glanced over at her, and Angel blushed.

“I-I bleach my hair,” she stammered. “It’s naturally dark blonde.”

“Your eyes are a beautiful shade of blue.”

She didn’t know how to reply, so she didn’t say anything at all. Murrich seemed to understand how uncomfortable she felt, and remained silent. Their footfalls echoed as they walked, and a cold night breeze pierced through Angel’s sweater, causing her to shiver. He took off his long coat, and draped it over her shoulders. She liked the way it smelled.

When they reached the diner, Murrich held open the door and Angel scurried inside then waited. After a quick glance around, he led her to a booth by the window and motioned for her to sit down, before taking his place across the table from her. The waitress came a minute later, handing them menus and saying something that Angel didn’t quite understand, though she nodded anyway before burying her face in the menu.

“Can I get a dessert?” she asked, then felt childish for doing so. She was worried that she was coming across as immature and needy, and she didn’t want him to dislike her. For some strange reason, she felt that his opinion of her mattered more than anyone else’s.

“You may.” She couldn’t read his tone at all. “Have you thought about what to drink?”

“Chocolate milk.” She was being childish again. Angel hated herself for acting that way. Everyone told her that she was supposed to be strong and mature, but she couldn’t force herself to be something that she didn’t feel. She was inexperienced and easily overwhelmed, so that was the best that she could do.

“Tell me when you decide which dessert you would like.” Murrich looked at her. “I’ll order for you.”

Relief swept through Angel, and she liked Murrich even more for saying that. He was acting like a buffer for her, taking the pressure of having to speak to the waitress off of her, and making it seem like the most natural thing in the world for him to do it. She felt warm at the thought that he was reading her cues, and accepting them without judging her.

“Cheesecake,” she said, her embarrassment fading.

Several minutes later, with a glass of chocolate milk in front of her, Angel felt comfortable enough to say, “I dropped out of college today.”

“Did you like school?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then that’s a good thing.” He spoke resolutely, without a hint of doubt. Despite everything that Angel had been told about the virtues of higher education, she believed Murrich above them all. “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Angel bit her lip and looked out the window. “I need to find out if my parents are going to kick me out first.”

“I see. I suppose that’s why you went to college in the first place.” Murrich’s expression became unpleasant for a moment, then unreadable again.

“They might not,” Angel quickly said. “They’ve told me things like that before, but then never actually followed through with it.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

Angel became silent as her throat started to hurt again. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t come up with the words. She knew, deep within her heart that she hated the way her parents treated her, and had never been able to say a word in defense of them when past friends had commented on it. She didn’t have friends anymore though.

“Miss Angel,” Murrich said, his voice somehow sounding like soft velvet, “is that why you were going to jump off the bridge?”

“No!” Angel’s face burned with shame at the memory, uncertain of what had happened. “I just . . . felt pulled . . . I don’t know. I don’t want to kill myself.” The way that Murrich was watching her made her even more uncomfortable, and she hated it. She wanted to make him like her, and she was sure that her ineptitude at handling the conversation was putting him off, but she didn’t know how to act better.

“Come.” Murrich stood up. “We’re both finished, and the night is beautiful. We should go for a walk.”

Complying, Angel felt panic surging through her as she walked through the door and out into the world again. She wanted to protest, demand to be taken to the safety of her home, but she felt too weak to do so. She remained quiet, keeping her turmoil inside.

“I’m sorry for distressing you, but I want to show you that the world isn’t as dangerous as you seem to think.”

Shocked, Angel quickly looked at him and exclaimed, “How did you know?!” Embarrassed by the inadvertent admission, she looked away.

He chuckled, stopping to put his hand under her chin and direct her gaze to meet his. “My Angel,” he whispered, “your face is not as blank as you seem to think. It’s in your eyes, the curve of you mouth, and the shade of your skin. All I had to do was look.” Then his hand dropped away, and he continued walking. “I’m certain that I’m not going to enjoy this, but I must ask you: what sorts of things are you expecting to happen, out here in the unprotected dark?”

Skipping to catch up, Angel clenched her jaw as she thought about the answer. Then, forcing the words out until they started to flow on their own, she repeated all of the stories that her mother had told her, shying away from the details but giving the general picture. Sharing such horrible things made her tremble, so Murrich put an arm around her shoulders, holding her protectively as she talked.

When she was done, he said, “I’m not going to lie to you, bad things like that do happen.” He squeezed her slightly. “But not as often as you think. It certainly won’t happen tonight with me here to protect you.”

“I barely know you. For all I know, this could be an elaborate ruse to get me vulnerable!”

Murrich remained calm at Angel’s outburst, answering, “When I deliver you safe and sound at your front door, you’ll know that it’s not.”

Suddenly Angel trusted him completely, assured by his words. Murrich, a man who hadn’t existed for her until a couple of hours ago, had managed to unravel the tangled mess of nerves and insecurity that had been her world for so long, simply by making her feel like he was strong enough for the both of them. Relaxing against his side, Angel murmured, “I hope that never happens.”

“You don’t wish to be safe and sound?”

“I don’t want you to leave me.” Blushing, Angel hid her face. “This is the first time I’ve ever felt safe.”

“Then maybe I shouldn’t.”

“I feel like I was supposed to meet you, supposed to . . .”

Angel was relieved that Murrich seemed to be taking her seriously, and not pointing out the flaws in her articulation. She had never loved anyone before, had never been in a relationship, and she wasn’t sure how they were supposed to start. She was certain that she was doing it all wrong, and moving far too quickly, but she didn’t have any more doubts about whether or not Murrich was meant to be in her life. There was something almost spiritual in the way that she was falling for him, and his acceptance of her confirmed her feelings. She closed her eyes and reveled in the fuzzy warmth that flowed into her from him.

“My Angel,” he whispered, closing his hand around hers. After a moment they began walking again, moving in the direction of Angel’s house.

Stories

Eleta

Autumn

Absolutely none of the writing prompts during this last week spoke to me in any sort of way — too much ‘internet culture’ crap (YES I SAID IT) to spark the imagination.

So I wrote up one of my own ideas to post instead.

Of course, if I worked on my novel instead of posting on Reddit, I’d be a lot closer to being finished with it. You know I’m totally just doing this for attention, lol.

 

Xander approached the lab with trepidation, his combat boots crunching loudly on the deteriorating asphalt with every heavy step. He had received his order to recruit a new teammate, and he knew exactly which old one had to go. While it was going to be a relief to be rid of Adora after her latest antics had nearly gotten the entire team killed, he did not care for the manner in which he had been instructed to carry out the task. The transition was not going to be smooth or pretty.

But first, he had to slog through all the options currently available in the lab. He hated the scientists in their white coats who lorded themselves over the soldiers as their creators. They tampered with life, but they did not understand it; not in the same way the soldiers did.

A new teammate would mean a mountain load of work late into the night. He was not looking forward to it.

He entered the building and went through all of the necessary security checks, then met up with the scientist who had been assigned to assist him. He was a boring sort of man, a balding egghead who didn’t think it was necessary to look up from his clipboard when he spoke. They went to the observation room, and immediately started going over the options.

Xander shot them down without even looking at them. He didn’t need someone who could read minds or levitate objects. “I need stealth,” he argued. “Don’t waste my time on parlor tricks!”

“Hm, lets see here …” the man studied his clipboard, musing in a way that sounded like he was talking to himself. “Ah, you should like this one. She came out of the lab just this morning, and is quite cutting edge.”

“Fine. Bring her in.” Xander rubbed the bridge of his nose, not feeling particularly excited about the prospect. The scientists’ idea of ‘cutting edge’ was never all that applicable in real combat situations, but he still wondered what sort of monstrosity they had created this time. Perhaps if she proved to be adequate, he would recruit her just to insult Adora, who had been getting on his nerves with her vanity of late. It would knock her down a peg before she was booted from the team.

The scientist spoke into his radio, and a few minutes later a door opened in the room on the other side of the one-way glass. Surprisingly, a pretty and slender girl was shown in and instructed to wait. She sat down in the chair facing the mirror, and folded her hands together on her lap in a manner that could only be described as delicate.

“Seriously?!” Xander couldn’t help but blurt, staring as if his eyes would bug out of his head. “She’s not a soldier at all!”

“Ah, don’t let her appearances deceive you.” The scientist chuckled, and for the first time set down his clipboard to look proudly at the girl. “I designed her abilities myself. She can project invisibility on whomever she chooses, and take out all electronic devices at will. She is perfect for stealth.”

“What’s with the long hair?” Xander asked. No one kept long hair on principle, not wanting to risk the hazard it posed in the middle of combat. He thought that he should decline on that matter alone, especially considering that it wasn’t simply her hair that bothered him; everything about her looked like some lonely man had decided to create a living doll for his own enjoyment, from her rosebud mouth to her D cup breasts. There was no way he could work with someone like that. There was no way she could successfully integrate into the team.

The scientist simply shrugged. “We provide their powers, not their personalities. If you want her to cut it, you’ll have to convince her yourself.”

Xander opened his mouth to say what his mind was telling him, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was ogling her, embarrassed by his inability to look away. His heart tugged at him, whispering that he was a lonely man and that he could use some enjoyment. Of course, as the team leader, that would be an appalling abuse of power. Even if he recruited her, he would never be allowed to touch her.

“What’s her name?” he asked instead.

“Eleta. She’s the best we’ve ever made,” the scientist replied.

“The best, huh?” He clenched his hands into fists, keeping them rigidly at his sides as he tried to keep his mind clean and focused. She would prove to be too much for him, and he needed to walk away before he got into any trouble. “Invisibility would be useful …” He hated himself. He wanted to punch himself in the face for being so stupid.

Say no. Just say no.

“I’ll take her. She needs to cut that damn hair, though.”

The scientist grinned. “I’ll inform her that she’s been recruited. Take good care of her – we put a lot of hard work into this one.”

Xander grunted, his heart pounding over what he had done as he watched the scientist go into the other room to speak with the girl. For however long he was stuck working with her, it was going to be the sweetest hell he would ever endure.

Stories

WP – Haunted

Autumn

[WP] The house is haunted. Bloody walls, ghostly figures, shrieks in the night. The lot. But in this economy, you can’t afford to move, so you’re just going to have to sit down and talk things out with the your new spectral housemates. from WritingPrompts

 

It was the shrieks in the night that I wanted to address first. I could live with the bloodstained walls, the ghostly figures standing behind my reflection in the mirror, and the lights continually flickering like it was a party, but I needed my sleep.

I went to the toy store and bought a cheap Ouija board, made of plastic and cardboard. It was pink, too, because that was the only model they had in stock, and the box featured pictures of teenage girls asking silly questions along the lines of, “Who has a crush on me?”

Later. I promised myself. If it worked with getting me a night of undisturbed rest, then maybe I could spend a few minutes indulging in secret questions about my personal life. I couldn’t imagine any demons being attracted to the ridiculously girly thing tucked under my arm, so I was probably safe in that regard.

Home was an Edwardian bungalow. I had loved it so much when I first saw it, I had ignored the warning signs: like the way the real estate agent had refused to be alone and kept looking over her shoulder. In retrospect, I should have realized something was up. But I was caught up in admiring the original woodwork and the rich color of the brick, and didn’t pay her any mind. I guess you could say that I was too busy geeking out.

The housing market crashed before the ink was dry on the paperwork, and now I was stuck. No money to move, and no one to buy. I was the owner of a bona fide haunted house.

It had been months since I’ve slept straight through the night, and there were dark circles under my eyes. If those ghosts managed to kill me, I vowed, I was going to haunt them to see how they liked it.

I set myself up on the kitchen table. I wasn’t sure if the Ouija board would work with only one person, but I couldn’t turn to anyone else for help. It seemed like everyone I divulged my circumstances to either insisted that I needed to see a psychiatrist, or wanted to worship the Devil in my basement. There were a surprising number of really disturbed people in my social circle, to the point that I decided that I needed to reevaluate my life choices.

Later, after I had slept on it.

I put my fingertips on the planchette and said in my most authoritative voice, “I command you to speak! Who are you?”

The lights dimmed and the fixture started to swing, but the planchette remained completely still. I had the feeling that the ghosts were laughing at me.

I snapped. “Fine, guys, whatever! The fact is, I’m stuck here and you aren’t going to get rid of me no matter what. Could you just cool it during the night so I can get some rest? I’m going crazy here!”

This time, everything went completely still, and even the usual bumps that continually sounded in the background were silent.

“Thank you!” I exclaimed, and this time the planchette began to move. It was a strange sensation, as if my hands were pushing it despite my efforts to keep them limp, and I watched it slowly pick out the letters:

S-O-R-R-Y

“It’s cool. You were probably just excited to talk to me, and wanted my attention. Right? You seem alright to me,” I said. I wondered if this was the beginning of a strange friendship with my ghostly roommates, but nothing else happened.

I kept asking questions for another half-hour, but got no other responses. I even, on a lark, asked if there was anyone who wanted to date me, but nothing. Sheesh.

I said goodbye, packed the board up, and went to bed. The next morning I woke up feeling better than I had in a long time, and all the usual hauntings picked right back up, including the ghastly image of a corpse glaring at me in the mirror as I brushed my teeth.

I could live with this.

Stories

WP – Dragon King

Autumn

[WP] A powerful king owns a dragon, plays scary organ music, wears dark clothes, and just looks intimidating. He’s actually a really nice guy and his people love him. Heroes from far away lands keep trying to defeat him and his dragon because they think he’s a villain. from WritingPrompts

Aldric liked riding his dragon the way everyone else liked riding horses. He would often go on long expeditions through the sky, swooping and swirling to dance with the clouds, and trying hard not to expose his teeth to the grit that was always present no matter the altitude. As a matter of practicality, he took to wearing masks – black so he wouldn’t have to wash them too often – and due to his absent-minded nature, he often forgot to take them off once he was back home.

He ruled over a small, but economically powerful, country built on good sense and common courtesy. The children called him “The Candy King,” and looked forward to every Lammas when he would fly his dragon overhead and drop parachuted packages full of all the sugar and chocolate that his kitchen staff could put together, followed by a few stunts to scare and delight his people. He spent most of his waking moments focused on ensuring their happiness, and took enormous pride in being their king.

However, his benevolence did not extend beyond his borders. Aldric preferred to stay isolated from the world, and aside from a few well-established trade routes, kept his country entirely to itself in social and political matters with the reasoning that he had enough to worry about without dabbling in everyone else’s affairs. As a result, terrible rumors abounded unhindered about the “Dragon King,” who terrorized the countryside with fire and violence.

Aldric was blissfully ignorant until the first self-described hero showed up. He had been out on his daily ride, and had returned to play his organ while meditating on how to improve the healthcare for orphans, when he heard a sudden scream. He started and turned around, and to his horror found one of his guards injured by someone shouting hysterically about justice while flailing a sword.

The man was promptly jailed for his crime, but because he refused to state which country he had hailed from, Aldric didn’t know where to return him to. Thus, he was sent to a work camp, which was far more productive and reformative than letting people waste away in dungeons.

The next hero gave a speech before attempting to use his sword, claiming that Aldric was obviously evil from his black mask (he had forgotten that he was wearing it again), and threatened to slay his dragon. That made Aldric angry, so he sent this hero to the work camp as well – he wouldn’t allow anyone to menace his pet and get away with it.

This continued periodically for some time, with every single hero too absorbed in himself to listen to reason. Aldric was forced to tighten security around his borders, and his subjects became increasingly suspicious of outsiders in defense of their beloved king.

Mercifully, Theo the prince showed up on Lammas while Aldric was making his traditional candy drop. He had hoped to make a name for himself by defeating the evil dragon king, though through a series of unfortunately hilarious events, had brought his sister the princess Azalea along as well. Azalea was delighted to see the colorful parachutes drifting down from the sky, and even more enamored when she discovered they were carrying sweets. As a result, she refused to let Theo hide her away when he left to confront the dragon king about his evil ways – which were beginning to look less and less evil up close – and accompanied him to the castle.

Aldric settled in to play his organ upon his return, working on a song that had come to him while he had been flying on his dragon, and was deep in thought when Theo and Azalea arrived. Theo had wanted to burst in with his sword drawn, but Azalea insisted that they introduce themselves properly and speak to him first, arguing that anyone who cared that much about children couldn’t be all that bad. Theo had to turn his face in embarrassment while Azalea knocked and asked to see the king, stating their full names and kingdom in the process. It horrified him that his sister had so little sense.

As it was, they were shown into the audience hall and announced to Aldric. Upon turning from his organ, he was delighted to discover the most beautiful maiden that he had ever seen curtseying before him.

“Dragon king,” she said, her voice sweet and clear. “We have come to implore you to stop your evil ways…”

“I take care of my people, and I am loved by them,” Aldric replied, his eyes locked on the beautiful princess. “Is that evil?”

“Not at all, your highness, but you keep a dragon for a pet,” Azalea answered.

“She is a creature of the earth, as much as you or I, and I care for her deeply. Is it evil to love a pet?”

“No, your highness.” Azalea knelt down on the ground this time, and Theo’s face burned red with embarrassment. “But you dress all in black and wear a mask, and surely that is a reflection of the darkness in your heart.”

“Oh, confound it!” Aldric ripped off his mask and tossed it aside. “I have much on my mind, and I forget that I wear it to protect myself while on my rides. I wear black to save myself from worrying about my clothing. Is that evil?”

“No, your highness.” When Azalea looked up, her eyes were shining with deep admiration. Aldric stepped over to her and helped her to her feet, then stayed for a moment holding her hand as they gazed at each other. Theo saw it all in a heartbeat, and knew that his intended heroics were not needed.

A month later, Theo returned home to announce the news of Azalea’s engagement to Aldric, and talked freely about how wise and generous the dragon king was. The wedding was a grand celebration, and in the years that followed their children grew up happily as they played freely in the castle and enjoyed riding the dragon with their father.

The kingdom was never bothered by heroes again.

The end.

 

Look what I figured out how to do with the Reddit link, lol.

Stories

WP – Henchman

Autumn

[WP] You were one of the henchman for the villain facing off against the spy hero. You were knocked out while fighting the hero, and wake up after it’s all over.

 

My head hurt.

It felt like something was pressing against my skull as I slowly propped myself up, so I took off my helmet and tossed it; however, the sensation remained with a dull ache. Rubbing my eyes, I looked around blearily.

Looked like I had been one of the lucky ones. There were a few other guys lying in the hallway not far from me, riddled with bullet holes. I recognized Jacob among them, and immediately felt bad for the pretty young wife he had left behind. Hadn’t I told him that this was not a suitable career for a family man?

The silence led me to guess that it was all over. Our boss was probably a smear of strawberry jam by now, and his arch-nemesis was off screwing some girl he had met along the way. I staggered to my feet and leaned heavily against the wall, cursing the intensity with which my head pounded.

I thought again about Jacob’s wife. She’d probably appreciate hearing the news from a friend, and likely needed a shoulder to cry on. I wondered what sort of career would be suitable for a family man, and if I should turn my life around. Without the boss, there wasn’t anything left to hold me here.

The number of bodies made me blanch. I had seen many of those faces talking and laughing over lunch just a few hours ago, and now they stared lifelessly at nothing. The hypocrisy of heroes is what inspired me to follow the boss in the first place, and I hated what had become of our organization.

I don’t know what it was with those guys that made them think that being a spy was a license to ruthlessly murder whoever they wanted. I stepped over George, who had bragged about his new puppy over coffee. He had been a nice guy. I was really growing to hate Mr. Hero now.

Finding the boss cinched it in my mind. Jacob’s wife was going to have to find someone else to comfort her, because I had greater things to do – I was probably too old for her anyway. I just couldn’t let that much suffering go unavenged, not when so many hopes and dreams had been abruptly ended so pointlessly.

Unlike our boss, I wasn’t going to build a family organization first. I didn’t care about making money or providing jobs, I just wanted revenge. I didn’t care if I was going to spend the rest of my life in a prison cell as the result of it either.

I was going to kill Mr. Hero.

And that was that.

Reddit

Side note: I’m posting the prompts a week after I write them, so I know what sort of fallout my story achieved. This week my brain feels like an empty peanut butter jar (gee, I wonder why, lol), so I’m going to skip out for now.