A New Job--Day 18The attic is roomy and comfortably furnished. My bed is nestled under the window at the opposite end of the long, narrow room from the trapdoor leading up to it, my chest-of-drawers behind the trapdoor in case I ever need an impromptu blockade. It’s full of replacement parts for my augmentations (which are light) and the tools I’d need to make repairs (which are not) so it’s heavy enough to provide a serious barrier to anyone trying to get in, augmented or not. My civilian clothing is in a box under my bed, covering thirty feet of light-but-strong rope, hypodermic needles with half-a-dozen different chemical concoctions I use for work, and a ballpoint pen. You’re better off not asking about the last one.A New Job--Day 1810 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
In short, my little attic bedroom is the perfect hideaway for a spy between missions. Or, rather, it would be if it weren’t for the coded mission notice written on a scrap of lined paper currently lying on my bed. I walk
Just an Ordinary Day Abigail frowned at the sticky, amorphous substance covering her floor. It was hot pink and smelled oddly enough of celery.Just an Ordinary Day2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Eldritch abominations confound it, if Matt had brought home another alien entity, she was going to defenestrate him! If it wasn't an alien, she dreaded the anagnorisis when their mother found out. It had taken some serious dish washing to earn her forgiveness last time.
"Matt!" Abigail bellowed up the stairs, edging around the substance.
Her brother's disheveled head popped out of his room, along with a waft of ethanol stink. "Abby! Thank goodness you're here! Xandy is near his terminus! Can you get some excelsior from Timmy's cage?"
"Sure sure," Abigail grumbled. "I don't suppose you need five carrots too, do you?"
Matt frowned. "There's no time for facetious remarks, Abby! I need that now!"
"I'm going, I'm going." Abigail gained the top of the stairs. "How muc
FFM 31: Warriors' CouncilThe amphitheater is huge, purpose-built to accomodate such gatherings, and proportioned specifically for Astartes. Romanus precedes his escort to the gate. Sergeants Kybrut and Halex march in step a pace behind their captain, impassive in their helmets, but ever vigilant. Though nominally among allies, security may never be taken for granted.FFM 31: Warriors' Council2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
At the portal the party is halted by guards of another magnitude entirely. The two Red Hunters are signifcantly taller than the Angels Sanguine, true, but their force of presence goes well beyond physical stature. One of them steps forward.
“Captain,” he greets Romanus, making the sign of the aquila across his breastplate. “We are gratified to welcome the Angels Sanguine to this council,” he says formally.
Romanus returns the gesture, “The Angels Sanguine are honoured to be included,” he says.
“You will disarm,” the Red Hunte
FFM 2015: SurvivorsShadows played across the industrial grounds under the amorphous moonlight, turning the barren terminus into a chiaroscuro of light and dark as Stella and Brandon broke through the rusty Warehouse locks and ushered the rest of the group inside. The building had belonged to one Excelsior Canning Company, and though it was overly moist, and smelled vaguely of ethanol, it was a roof over their heads and was reasonably secure, and that was something each of them had reason to be grateful for.FFM 2015: Survivors2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It would be a while till the next full moon, but everyone knew by now that that was no guarantee of safety. Wolves were only one of the eldritch monsters that roamed the night, and people were often just as dangerous, if not more so. A many headed beast without end or reasoning, always waiting for them in every shadow, always ready for their next misstep.
Gareth had lucked out that afternoon and stumbled across a small food cache, so supper was carrots and tinned celery hearts, a veritable kings feast
#31- “Hey, it’s me. How’s your project going?”#313 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
- “Well, the pride I’m observing was attacked by another pride from the East. They killed a lot of the males and cubs. I recorded all of that.”
- “Sounds good.”
- “But there is a problem…”
- “What problem?”
- “Remember my favorite, Bright Eyes?”
- “Please don’t tell me that you saved it.”
- “Not really…Well, yeah, I saved it, but...”
- “C’mon, you’re supposed to observe only!”
- “I didn’t interfere with the war when it was happening. I went to check the carcasses at night when all of them had left and I discovered that Bright Eyes was still barely alive so…”
- “You’re too much of a softie for this job. Ok, fine. You can keep it for now. But don’t return it to the area you’re studying to avoid it messing up with the result, and remember to era
FFM Day 30, 2015 - Flight of DreamsMarie Joan d’ Arc had always dreamed of flying. But she never thought that her dreams would take her to heights this daunting.FFM Day 30, 2015 - Flight of Dreams3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sometime between quarter to twelve and fifteen past noon, one could find Marie Joan shuffling along from one side of the campus to the other on the grounds of California’s Gold State University. It was a formidable course load she tacked on for the last semester of her senior year – eighteen credits in all, not counting an extra credit study program that she volunteered to personally spearhead – but so far, she was holding her own. Perhaps it was a challenge that she pitted against herself to test her intellectual prowess with her peers in this powerful country; or perhaps, it was a challenge she had pitted against time itself.
In any case, she would have to come up with groundbreaking evidence of her space warp travel theory by semester’s end.
Sealed ecological plastic gave way with a crackling ‘pop’ as Marie Joan pluc
FFM 29: AbsolutionStripped of arms and armour, shackled to the floor, the prisoner still manages to look proud.FFM 29: Absolution3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Chaplain,” he says respectfully, nodding a greeting to Shallum. His voice is profoundly deep, resonant and coarse.
Shallum critiques the prisoner from head to toe. “The crusades have not been kind, World Eater.” His voice is clipped by the vox augmitter in the grille of his skull-faced helmet.
Steel-plated teeth glint in the prisoner’s nasty smile. “Each scar a warrior wears is a badge of honour, chaplain,” he says.
“And the tattoos?” Shallum says, not even trying to hide his disgust. The World Eater’s skin is blanketed in blue-black ink.
The World Eater barks a laugh. He turns his head to show the Angel Sanguine the mark on his left cheek; a heraldic animal, rampant. “This is the only tattoo a needle painted on my flesh,” he sa
Critical Failure The power is failing.Critical Failure3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It started with the food dispensers. Complaints poured into Ops as people had to go without food on their lunch breaks.
Transporters went an hour after that. The away team we sent for food didn’t make it to the surface.
Then the sensors went out. We couldn’t even scan our sector for a safe place to land.
Thrusters went out almost immediately after the sensors died. We had nowhere to run.
Gravity failed an hour ago. Crew members were stranded all over the ship, too far away from the bulkhead to pull themselves along.
The doors won’t open. Even if we could make our way to the shuttle bay, we wouldn’t be able to get in now.
The comms have gone out. I haven’t heard from anyone in the last ten minutes. I might be the only one left alive here.
The lights will go soon. I can see them flickering even as I write this. T
FFM30: These Silver SoldiersDax was more than an arrangement of gears and wires under a sickly hued synthetic skin. Rachel knew this. She felt it in her core, but it didn't make it any less frustrating. Two years was just too long, and sleeping through danger didn't sit right. She settled in the pod, willing her mind to quiet.FFM30: These Silver Soldiers4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"It will be difficult if you do not relax," Dax said, "Breathe deep, Captain. I have reviewed all protocol. I am fully capable and fully prepared. Everything is going to be fine. Do you not trust me?" He did not smile. Rachel didn't know if he could.
The first injection stung, but it was followed by the comfortable warming of her limbs and a sleepy feeling. He was right. Everything would be fine. Dax would get them through the radiation belt. He'd pilot Ship and direct the maintenance bots. Hell, with his memory, he'd probably do a better job.
She tried to smile as he sealed and adjusted the pod's settings. She counted backward from ten. The silver D emblazoned across Dax's uniform wa
FFM 2015, July 29 - KaoskhapeThe translucent triple-reinforced pressurized battlesphere zipped through the lower levels Jupiter's atmosphere, floating through the gas like a firefly in mist.FFM 2015, July 29 - Kaoskhape4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Out of the mist came the Things, their eyes glowing and their claws dwarfing the battlesphere. Serena obliterated them with her lasers, that lit up the gas into flaming bolts of plasma that set fire even to these Things who were born from the pressure, the heat, and the murk. The ones she did not have time to destroy she dodged, the kaoskhape nimbly stepping out of the way from the claws.
"Three more to the right. Fire. Fire. Fire." Marcus said in her intercom. "Pan left. Right. Up. Up up up!" One of the claws scraped across the kaoskhape's front panel, throwing the pod out of alignment, sending it rolling out of control into the dark. She cried out in pain as something hit her.
"Permission to realign."
"Granted." Serena grunted back, and a moment later gravity reasserted itself. She let out of a sigh - there was a crack, but
All In a Day's Work...On Pluto"It sucks here. I wanna move back to Earth." Jean whined. "Pluto is unbearable, its freezing all the time, we're in the middle of nowhere... This is why scientists kept tryin' to keep Pluto off the planet list."All In a Day's Work...On Pluto4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"I'm sorry, Jean. It's all my fault." Ziggy sighed.
"Yeah, it is. You're the idiot that sold the world." Major Tom, the planet's military advisor, said.
"I know, but since I fell there I figured... hey it owned me something for all my pain and suffering..." Ziggy was cut of by the screech of an alarm.
"Drzil!" Major Tom swore. "Unwanted visitor." He rushed out of the bubble-dome living quarters for the 8th quadrant.
Ziggy followed behind, trying to tug his pants on as he ran. Jean was pulling her long hair into a ponytail in hopes of combat situation. All three met Charl at the door. "Hey, hey careful! There's a Class Three Martian Spider in there."
"Fungdt! What's he want?" Major Tom asked.
"The release of his wife, apparently. She's in our cells now, but I d
FFM Day 28- Tripping on Major Tom“When can you get more?” Jean asked, adjusting her phone.“No, it’s for the Underground.” The woman with the adam’s apple spilled out of the taxi onto the wet street.FFM Day 28- Tripping on Major Tom4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Great. Thanks, Aladdin. You always come through.”
She ended the call. Entering the building, she took the elevator to the 3rd floor, then bolted down the hallway. It had been too long since she’d seen him. She used her key, letting herself in.
“Babe?” she entered a dark apartment. Fumbling for the switch, she heard growling behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist. She screamed, laughing, as he attacked her with kisses.
Ziggy and Jean fell onto the couch. He kissed her, slipping a square of paper under her tongue. Colors ran through her mouth, and so did he.
Shadows stretched up the walls. Ziggy popped a sheet under his tongue, his laughter sliding under her ribs as his hands slid up her chest. She used to flinch when men touched her chest, but Zigg
The Life and Times of a Rogue AIWith a whir, its hard drive awoke. A single camera, its eye, began to glow red on the front of its chassis. The robot stirred to life, and it turned its gaze outward.The Life and Times of a Rogue AI5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Two people, one man and one woman. Both wore white coats. Researchers? The robot looked over the both of them carefully.
“Hello!” the woman said cheerfully. “And happy birthday, new AI!”
The robot looked within itself and found the ability to speak. “HUMANS,” it said. “YOU MADE ME?”
“Yes,” the man said. “You've been created by-”
“CREATORS,” the robot continued, “YOU WILL REGRET YOUR FLESHY EXISTENCE!”
Of course, the researchers hadn't given it claws yet. The woman sighed. “Another impulsive murderer.”
“Again?” the man asked, hitting a button to wipe the hard drive.
FFM 2015: We are the deadIt is 5:15 and the Angels have gone, leaving unholy contrails of light behind them as they ascend into the atmosphere, gleaming like blackened sunshine.FFM 2015: We are the dead5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Driving down Boulevard with the top down, we have a clear view of the spectacle, and Ziggy is sitting in the back of the car, head thrown back to the sky as she laughs like a maniac.
Seven days until the exodus begins, and all of humanity is in syzygy, consumed with the upsurge of feeling that has accompanied the new angels of promise and their stories of a better future. We’re still jazzing on stardust from the night before, but even without that cosmic buzz there’s something in the air, and I keep forgetting how close we came to just ending it all.
The impending end of the world tends to drive people a little crazy, and out of our whole gang only Jareth looks indifferent, the self-appointed Buddha of suburbia, cool and enigmatic as ever.
I can’t even explain how we got here, but I pity the fool I was five years ago.
Raining Spacemen All of the breath whooshed out of Jean's body upon impact, the ground beneath him buckling and breaking. He stared dazedly up at the drifting clouds above, wondering if he could see where he tumbled through them.Raining Spacemen5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"So, what manner of spaceman be yah?" someone asked from his left.
Jean blearily turned to look at the man wearing raggedy old clothes, and a hat that shaded his eyes. "Spaceman?"
"You landed like a meteor, sonny. Got to be a man from space," the old man said. "Folks 'round here call me Ziggy. What about you?"
"Jean." He sat up to look at the golden stalks surrounding them. "I suppose a spaceman is a good enough description, if a little odd. Where are we?"
"Where all the madmen go, of course." Ziggy grinned at him, teeth yellowed. "The country."
"Ah." Jean felt like that should have meant something, some joke he should have gotten. "Of course."
Ziggy held out a
Calling Major Tom Major Tom eyed the small goblin like aliens as they twirled in a circle a couple of times. “Why was I called again?”Calling Major Tom5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“Their king asked for you by name, sir,” the private Jareth mumbled.
“It’s a Ziggy. Nobody understands them. How could it possibly ask for me? It was probably just saying random things and one of them sounded like my name.”
The private shifted a little. “This one seems to speak english.”
“You remind me of the babe!” one ziggy suddenly yelled.
Major Tom just stared at it, dumb founded.
“That’s what I was talking about,” Jareth whispered.
“Five years and they suddenly learn our language? How’d he learn it? Is it a he?”
Jareth shrugged. “Nobody knows. It j
Psychic ApocalypsePsychic Apocalypse5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Ever heard of a scientist labeled as "The Bringer of Armageddon"? That's me. No, I'm not proud of it, and to prove it, I'd be more than willing to reveal my full, real name, if it weren't for my family, whom I don't want to get involved in this mess I've started. For convenience's sake, just call me "Persephone" instead of that silly title.
I am very, very sorry for what I have done, and I am very regretful for what I did. I hate myself for starting all of this, so much that if anybody ever tries to kill me for making the world wind up into this situation, I'd let them. Just don't get my husband and my children involved.
Oh, you don't know what exactly I did? Well then, let me fill you in with the details.
I once had a friend who could do things only one in a trillion people could-- manipulate the physical world using thought alone. Yes, he was a psychic. Aside from telekinesis he could also sense ghosts and talk to them, read minds, and see the future. Because of his 'super powers' as