15 Stories for 15 Days: Day Two

The 15 for 15 contest is held about once every nine months or so. The way it works is that every day at 8:30 WDC time, a picture prompt is posted. You have 24 hours to post your story that the prompt inspires. Here is the interesting part: You only have 15 minutes to write your story. You can think about it all day but once you start writing, 15 minutes is what you get.

ID: 994771   (Rated: 18+) 15 for 15 Contest   Do you have 15 minutes? Come in and join this contest! by Legerdemain (221)

The contest is limited to 50 competitors. Each day, there are 5 winners. First place will get 1004 points, second place will get 1003 points etc. The person with the most total points at the end of the 15 day contest is the winner.

The prompt for this story is the following picture:

My Entry

Focus came slowly.

There was no sensation of pain or sound; in fact, there was nothing at all. She could see but not clearly, not yet at least.

Her first thought … Where am I? was followed quickly by a more urgent, Who am I?

She fought the overwhelming urge to panic and soon found that she could recognize what she was seeing. Those are trees, she thought. That was something. In fact, it was everything and she held onto it as tightly as she could. She may not know much, but she knew what a tree was.

Try to remember. Try, try, try. Come one Janice, try to remember. Wait a minute! I’m Janice! I remember my name!

The elation brought tears to her eyes. She could tell she was crying because the trees were beginning to blur. Without conscious thought, she tried to wipe away the tears only to find she couldn’t. Further experimentation showed that she couldn’t move at all.

Maybe I’m hurt, she thought. I just need to be patient. Help will come and this nightmare will be over.

There was a slight flicker overhead. Something wasn’t quite right with the trees. They blinked and blurred a few times and then disappeared all together.

That’s when she saw them. She was in a room surrounded by beings with large almond-shaped heads and dark eyes. They seemed to just becoming aware of the fact that she was now aware of them. All of them seemed to be moving with a sense of urgency.

That’s when Janice realized the nightmare wouldn’t be over soon. In fact, it was just beginning.

The aliens scrambled about and a switch was thrown just she opened her mouth to scream…

Focus came slowly.

There was no sensation of pain or sound; in fact, there was nothing at all. She could see but not clearly, not yet at least.

Her first thought … Where am I? was followed quickly by a more urgent, Who am I?

15 Stories for 15 Days: Day One

The 15 for 15 contest is held about once every nine months or so. The way it works is that every day at 8:30 WDC time, a picture prompt is posted. You have 24 hours to post your story that the prompt inspires. Here is the interesting part: You only have 15 minutes to write your story. You can think about it all day but once you start writing, 15 minutes is what you get.

ID: 994771   (Rated: 18+) 15 for 15 Contest   Do you have 15 minutes? Come in and join this contest! by Legerdemain (221)

The contest is limited to 50 competitors. Each day, there are 5 winners. First place will get 1004 points, second place will get 1003 points etc. The person with the most total points at the end of the 15 day contest is the winner.

The prompt for this story is the following picture:

My Entry

The troopers fanned out from the dropship, quickly establishing a defensive, anti-flanking posture.

A moment later, Buck Hightower strode out of the hatch, a cigar gripped tightly in his mouth. He could tell in an instant that they were too late. The signature blue hue of everything indicated the planet was already well into a phase shift. This time tomorrow, it would be gone altogether; supposedly transferred to a time-space where its resources could be harvested as leisure.

Another planet had been lost to the Time Miners.

“Spread out in pairs. Look for any evidence of what took place. I want to know where these assholes went to from here.”

Immediately, his men spread out looking for anything that would help them get a badly needed head start against an enemy who controlled time itself.

Most home-world physicists believed that such a lead would be theoretically impossible since the Time Miners probably jump ahead in time periodically to make sure no actions from their past adversely affected their future. It was all very confusing.

Hightower wasn’t a big fan of “confusing.”

In his world, there was nothing that couldn’t be solved by blunt-force-trauma. That’s what made this mission so frustrating for him. There was no enemy to confront.

“Sir, we have found indications that they know about us. It’s reasonable to expect them to eliminate the threat we represent. They will harvest Earth next.”

Hightower scowled at the news. Attack his home world? How dare they!

It was time to take the battle to the enemy.

“Sergeant!”

“Sir!”

“Call the Mother-ship. I want every soldier and every piece of armament we have on this plant’s surface in two hours.”

“But sir, the planet is in phase-shift. It won’t be here for much longer.”

Hightower smiled. “I know. But it will be somewhere. This is going to be one Trojan horse they’ll wish then never brought inside the gates.”

Byte Flight

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the line: "Are we there yet?"

Byte Flight

Barabbas reached into the satchel, careful not to let any light escape. The orb was still warm, however its heat signature was noticeably diminished from where it had been only a few hours ago.

She was dying.

She was the love of his life - and she was dying.

Are we there yet?

He felt it as little more than a whispered thought – another indication that time was running out.

“No, little one. We’ll be there soon,” he said confidently.

You’re hurt! Let me help.

He pulled his hand out before she could learn any more. He was beyond “hurt.” He was in a very bad way. His injuries should have been more than enough to end the chase days ago. Only his love kept him going. She was depending on him to find Digital Haven before the Enforcers caught up with them.

The pursuit had been relentless. Barabbas had wrongly assumed that once they escaped the dome, they would be left to die in the poisoned atmosphere; one of several morbid legacies resulting from the Great Upheaval.

Surprisingly, the Enforcers had suited up and come after them into the yellowed air. The fear of Cloud Minds was that great. In the ruined aftermath of the Great Upheaval, fingers began to point. Right away they pointed to the digitally aware Cloud Minds; artificial intelligences granted citizenships in exchange for running everything but the government. They must be on the ones to blame for who else was left but the humans. God knows the humans weren’t about to blame themselves.

He pulled the satchel close to his chest and hugged gently. He must outlive her energy supply, lest she discover the truth.

There was no hope. There was no Digital Haven.

He had no idea she’d created the myth for him.

Word count 300

Alternative Energy

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the words: Chose, Forty and Candy

Alternative Energy

Scott didn’t know why he’d been chosen. None of them did.

The strange craft had floated silently over the cityscape and, one-by-one, it had plucked them from the New York populace.

Now, forty of them stood in what appeared to be the square of small-town, USA, circa 1955. It reminded him of an old Twilight Zone episode. There was a park across the street with a Merry-go-round and a cotton candy machine. There were cars and shops. The re-creation was almost perfect. Only one thing was missing.

Motion.

Nothing moved.

It was as if everything was locked up tight. No doors would open. All the cars were motionless.

Without a designated leader, the group was little more than unfocused discussion and speculation. The consensus was that they had been abducted by a UFO and were now in a space museum or something. Some guessed it was a test.

Surprisingly, most thought this was quite the adventure.

Right up to the point where the glass booth fried Mrs. Eckerman.

Scott saw the whole thing. The booth showed up in the middle of the street and he just happened to be looking in that direction. Mrs. Eckerman saw it as well. She went over to look but once she stepped inside, “Whoosh”. Nothing but ash was left.

One other thing happened just after. Everything started working. Doors to shops opened. Warm food was on the tables. There was even cotton candy for those that wanted some.

Mrs. Eckerman was soon forgotten … until three days later.

Everything shutdown again, but that wasn’t the scary part.

The scary part was when they all walked out into the street to see what was going on. This time they all saw the glass booth slowly lower itself to the center of Main Street.

Word count 300

Alternative Energy

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the words: Chose, Forty and Candy

Alternative Energy

He didn’t know why he’d been chosen. None of them did.

The strange craft had floated silently over the cityscape and, one-by-one, it had plucked them from the New York populace.

Now, forty of them stood in what appeared to be the square of small-town, USA, circa 1955. It reminded him of an old Twilight Zone episode. There was a park across the street with a Merry-go-round and a cotton candy machine. There were cars and shops. The re-creation was almost perfect. Only one thing was missing.

Motion.

Nothing moved.

It was as if everything was locked up tight. No doors would open. All the cars were motionless.

The “chosen,” without a designated leader, the group was little more than unfocused discussion and speculation. The consensus was that they had been abducted by a UFO and were now in a space museum or something. Some guessed it was a test.

Surprisingly, most thought this was quite the adventure.

Right up to the point where the glass booth fried Mrs. Eckerman.

Scott saw the whole thing. The booth showed up in the middle of the street and he just happened to be looking in that direction. Mrs. Eckerman saw it as well. She went over to look but once she stepped inside, “Whoosh”. Nothing but ash was left.

One other thing happened just after. Everything started working. Doors to shops opened. Warm food was on the tables. There was even cotton candy for those that wanted some.

Mrs. Eckerman was soon forgotten … until three days later.

Everything shutdown again, but that wasn’t the scary part.

The scary part was when they all walked out into the street to see what was going on. This time they all saw the glass booth slowly lower itself to the center of Main Street.

Word count 300

Cultural Exchange

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the words: Plate, Kitchen and Package

Cultural Exchange

Gerald looked across the kitchen table where the alien sat staring back with large, unblinking eyes.

This was not part of the deal, he thought. Then, “How are your potatoes?”

The alien dipped a long, green finger into the whipped pile on the plate then withdrew a sizable dollop on the tip. He brought it up to his face and examined it before flicking it across the table. It landed neatly on Gerald’s forehead with a “plop”.

“Why you little green…,” Gerald started across the table. Enough was enough. It was time to teach the fat little blob from outer space who was in charge.

The sudden appearance of a ray gun changed the balance of power noticeably and Gerald settled back into his chair.

“Listen,” Gerald started, “we had an agreement. As far as I can tell, putting up with you was not part of the package.”

The alien reached into a hidden fold of skin and pulled out a document which it then slid across the table towards Gerald.

“I know we have an agreement. You take my wife and in exchange, I host one of you little green snots. There was nothing in there about what a pain-in-the-ass you would be. Your flatulence alone is almost enough to make me long for my nagging wife, Thelma.”

The alien tilted slightly to the side and broke wind with great gusto.

Meanwhile…

“All you do is sit in that chair and stare at that damn view screen while I’m working my hands to the bone keeping this place clean and don’t think I didn’t notice that tuff of fur on your shirt last night don’t try to tell me…”

Commander Krill looked at the contract in his green hand. There had to be a way out of this deal.

Word count 300

Third Eye

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the words: braid, dripping and tattoo

Third Eye

It happened so fast he had no choice but to die; his life force dripping down the front of his shirt.

Lenny stood for nearly a minute before timbering over. A conveniently placed carpet served as his death shroud – the trunk of a Lincoln MKVIII his hearse.

Earlier, this had all seemed so easy.

“Bring me her braid,” was all the voice had said. A texted address followed.

Lenny found the location; a small shop in Asian-Town. No big surprise. The family frequently ordered hits on the Choy Organization. Survival of the fittest was a long tradition in the world of syndicated crime.

This small part of the city was all hustle and bustle. You could get anything from healing potions to sun-dried duck. The streets were packed with buyers, sellers and stealers; Perfect for striking quickly then vanishing into the crowd.

This was the place alright. A weathered sign hung above the shop door.

Psychic Readings

The dim shop was only lit by the light coming in from the storefront window. He sensed a movement from between some back shelves. As his eyes adjusted, he saw her emerge.

This was not what he expected. She was a small thin woman; maybe eighty years old. She came closer and he could see that she was clearly blind. She moved as if she knew where she was, but her clouded eyes told the story. A length of braided hair trailed behind her. On her forehead was a tattoo of an eye.

“Hello Lenny. I have been expecting you.”

“How did you know?”

“The third eye sees all.”

“Then you know why I am here.”

“Yes. You are here to die.”

Her attack was lightening fast and surgically accurate.

Lenny never stood a chance against the Choy family matriarch.

Word count 297

Annonymous Hero

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the words: star, drive and trouble

Anonymous Hero

He checked the dwindling charge of his plasma assault rifle and knew he was in trouble.

His twenty-man platoon had dropped down before first light three days ago. Their objective: Drive the Biotopes back from the neutral zone surrounding the newly founded human colony.

Now he was all that remained.

Twenty families huddled in their habitats as the sounds of the battle crept ever closer. They knew things weren’t going well. But they had no idea how bad it really was. None of them knew there was only one man left; one man out there on the battle field fighting to save people he had never met.

With a flick of his left index finger, he triggered yet another pain-blocker injection. A red light flashed at the edge of his vision indicating there was nothing left to inject. A nearby explosion jolted him and more lights began to flash. His suit hydraulics was leaking badly. Soon he would be trapped in a two-ton coffin that was his battle armor. Life support showed five minutes remaining.

A message flashed across his visor. “Star Cruiser support in ten minutes.”

Too late. He felt the ground beginning to rumble, indicating they were on the move. The Biotopes knew help was coming and only a final assault would enable them to destroy the humans before it was too late.

Twenty families huddled in the habitats as an anonymous hero did for them what so many other anonymous heroes have done before him.

He stood alone and took the battle to the enemy. They were caught completely off guard by the single soldier limping out of the foxhole, firing everything he had. It was several minutes before they could regroup. It was long enough

The cavalry arrived - saving all but one.

Word count 296