Writing Group: Making a Business of Death

Hello, Psychopomps and Sin Eaters!

Can I interest you in some Death this fine evening? It’s my proprietary blend. New and exclusive! It comes in strawberry, banana, cockroach, and green apple. You really ought to try it because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Making a Business of Death

RULES AND GUIDELINES BELOW!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

In the past few weeks we’ve spun tales (and, perhaps, at times, grown tails) of blood and witches. Now this prompt for October is the business side of the spookies. Who makes money off of death? …More people than you might think. 

You could write about an assassin, a bounty hunter, paid to kill. Death is just a job to them—a few more coins in their pocket. They may have no moral qualms with the profession, while the world fears, hates, and judges them. You could write about one such person who is asked to kill someone close to them, who realizes death is more than a number. 

Grave robbers steal from those who won’t fight to get their possessions back—physically or legally. Or…would they? Perhaps a grave robber is haunted by the ghosts of those they stole from. Or maybe they met no resistance until they tried to steal from a pharaoh’s tomb…

Grieving loved ones, detectives, and supernatural buffs alike will all often pay to speak to the dead. A medium makes money not off of the death itself, but of the promise of a moment of conversation. 

Even a simple hunter or adventurer could make a profit off of death. Even if it’s animals and/or goblins your character is killing, death is still death, and money is still money. You could write about a humble adventurer realizing that the monsters they fight aren’t so monstrous…

An undertaker or mortician is a less sinister way to take this prompt. Someone who makes sure the body looks nice, and the coffin fits right, for the deceased’s eternal rest. …Or perhaps things are not so gentle as kind as they seem. Many stories have taken the idea of an undead mortician to fascinating, scary, and sometimes hilarious extremes. 

Maybe the business is not the death, but the raising of the dead. In a world where necromancy is common and accepted, perhaps a necromancer could be paid to raise loved ones, or to create zombie armies. 

In a sci-fi story, someone who promises to upload one’s consciousness, or cryogenically freeze them, could make money off of killing their buyers, with no one able to tell they’re dead. Maybe you could write about someone protesting the creation and monetization of teleportation, firmly believing that teleportation kills the subject and creates an identical clone. 

Or maybe this prompt doesn’t have to be so far from the last. Perhaps someone comes to a witch, not for a potion of strength or beauty, but to buy a poison apple to feed to their enemy…

There really are no hard feelings, dear. It’s just business.

—Kaylie

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Comments

143 responses to “Writing Group: Making a Business of Death”

  1. Fight in the Shade
    By jgjgj

    The rice field the army advanced on was muddy & noisy, and explosive sloshes of feet made things awkward for the men behind us. Working tirelessly until the emblems blotched on our metal chests were half covered with muddied water, and faces, with panting- pained- expressions. Jostled by wooden spear shafts, knees, and arms attached to peasants looking at the ground instead of what was in front of them. Screams of men trampled in the foreground made the summer air even hotter and louder. And when I was about to fall over, Lieutenants down the strip of the hoard shouted something familiar over the water- feet- sloshes, and we all came to a halt parallel to an army maybe a half-mile to.

    I caught my breath, and my eyes narrowed to the scene around the opposing force; a stretch of flat rice fields blotched by a distant brownish-red-black band of men with spears that sparkled under the hot sun. My stomach absorbed me, and I turned away instinctually to what I thought was more comforting. I almost wanted to throw up as a waft of perspiration and bad body odor hit my nostrils, and I was brought back into reality. Scrawny elderly men draped in their uniform and hanging on for dear life on their spears, mumbling peasants whispering Buddhist prayers as they looked to what lay before them, and the young- around 15 years of age- dully looking towards the ground, most likely finding the sight as sickening as I had. We were the dull cutting blade of the main army, and that was the point. But with that thought, I became curious and wondered if the same could be said about the opposing force.

    But not even one of us could have that smidge of hope, as multiple tiny spears sparkled movement in the distance making little dark gaps in their lines, reminding the worst to come.

    Flag signals liaise with the main army to the vanguard, and the final decision was made as Lieutenants made a call to space their lines out. As we stumbled into position, cries of men unfortunate enough to be spotted by Lieutenants for a lack of movement were heard around the accompanying lines, but no one was energetic enough to look, much less care. A call to march was made, and lines of men splashed one by one almost in sync. As we got closer and closer, the feeling in my stomach almost engulfed my body. And after a while, no one looked at their feet. Death was looming in the distance, and with every binding step I made into my future– I took a step into heaven. We were sheep falling into the sparkling teeth and red maw of a glorious dragon, and as faithful to my mind’s eye, a flicker of fire burst out of the dark gaps of the monster’s jaws and arched from the heavens: consuming in sharp burning pains indiscriminately. And I felt fear no more.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Interesting piece. I like the meditative instrospection of one who knows they are marching towards death, and that this is certain. There are some really interesting moments where the certainty of what is going on and the materiality of the march are juxtaposed. This moments are, to my eyes, the things that shine the most in this story – the certainty that the future is brief, and how present the little things of the present then feel.

      To be truly honest, I understand the choice at the ending, but considering all that we follow through, I believe a bit less stoicism would hit even harder. This narrator knows he is marching towards death, and he has accepted it. No fearing it does not feels like it heightens the weight of this realization. But that’s a matter of preference.

      Anyway, very interesting tale.

  2. Karl Sterneman Avatar
    Karl Sterneman

    Bang
    By Karl Sterneman

    Their complexion was grey with death. Cheeks already sunken into their skull from time. People say dead bodies look like they’re asleep, but no. This one just looked dead.

    Charles Markin reached down towards the corpse’s face, as if to brush it lovingly across the cheek, but suddenly diverted to snatch away the chain draped around their throat. He stole the bracelet from its wrist, and the metal flowers it was buried with from its arms. Little else of interest lied within the coffin. Looting wasn’t the entire goal of Charles’s expedition, but they thought they might do it anyway while they were opening every coffin they could find.

    “Bleeding finally!” Charles heard from his left. He turned to see his colleague standing over a coffin they’d propped open with a rod from the thieving toolkit. “This is who we’ve been looking for.” Charles went to look. The corpse was of an older official, clearly from a rich family based on the overly elaborate dress they were buried in. Their facial complexion was harsh, hard lines projecting confidence even through the barrier of the afterlife. Unlike the last body, this one looked distinctly not dead, despite all signs pointing to the fact that it was. “See that symbol branded on their forehead?” Charles’s colleague questioned, and indeed he did. “It’s fresh.”

    A fresh brand ment a fresh chip, and a fresh chip meant payday. Now all they needed to do was extract it. A terabyte of data worth several million in cash only inches away. Then they heard the sirens. Turns out the official came with a welcoming party.

    Click.

    Bang.

    They didn’t even have the chance to turn around.

  3. Death Spectacle
    By Lightly Sugared Coffee

    “He should be the last one, right?”

    Someone’s voice rouses him from his slumber. Before he has the chance to look around, a pretty blonde is pulling him up, her blue eyes barely looking at him.

    “Wha-”

    The woman ignores him, continuing to discuss things he fails to understand with her companions. A blood red moon hangs in the cloudless sky. The night air chills his skin, filled with the scent of earth and decay. He takes a moment to look back and nearly faints from fright.

    “Who are you? Where am I? Did you just pull me out of a coffin and what in the holy is that thing?!”

    Said thing is a dead, eyeless dog, monstrously huge with someone’s hand sticking out of its mouth.

    His outburst finally catches their attention.

    “What?” another woman says. “We have a newcomer?”

    “Just ignore him,” the blonde from before snorts.

    He stares at them in disbelief.

    “I’ll talk to him.” The speaker is a male this time, his black hair tied low and slung over his shoulder.

    The group grumbles a little but eventually concedes. The man signals for him to follow which he does after some hesitation.

    “My name is Yangkang,” he introduces. “What’s yours?”

    “Castor, but everyone calls me Cas.”

    “You look young.” Yangkang’s eyes flick up and down, taking in his appearance. “How old are you?”

    “Um.” Castor considers how much information he should be sharing with a complete stranger but remembers his circumstances and decides otherwise. “Nineteen.”

    “Young,” the other repeats. “A pity.”

    “A pity?”

    “Everyone you see here is dead.”

    “N-no way.”

    “There are higher beings using us as entertainment.” His smile is sardonic. “The profits of such a business are obvious.”

    Castor blinks.

    “You saw that monster.” Yankgkang holds out his hand to him. “Things will get nasty, but I will try to help you ‘live’.”

    Castor notes how it is bloody with painfully cracked nails.

    Maybe he wasn’t the only one to wake in a coffin.

    Castor takes the offered limb, squeezing down with a smile.

    “I’ll be in your care then.”

    1. This plot could be tied to a great novel with a little more description of the setting (grave site, tomb, grave site but in the ‘spectral world’, ‘purgatory’, etc) and imagery (are the characters zombies, ghosts, or just something along the lines of human in ‘purgatory’).

      It would be interesting if this was like spectral maze runner with monsters employed to be an obstacle in the way of the players for the entertainment of those ‘higher beings’.

      Great job thinking of such a unique story!

  4. Maxer4000 Avatar

    In the mind to kill

    Except from therapy session between Dr. Jean Thorndike and Emerald Eye, CEO of Diamond Snakes co.

    Dr. T: Now tell me, sir, why did you decided to run this operation of murder for money?

    EE: Quite simple, really. I’m good at killing and I know how to run a business, so I just went ahead and started it all.

    Dr. T: I see… How are you so good at the art of killing then?

    EE: formal combat training and years of experience. And I’m going to stop ya there, mate. I know where this line of questions going and Imma have to ask ya to stop, there classified info there and I can’t just disclose ’em.

    Dr. T: Of course, sir. Moving on, how do you view the people you kill then? Like cattle primed for slaughter? Or just a like of bulleyes for you to shoot?

    EE: Like I’m looking at ya now, just people.

    Dr. T: Then do you think these people don’t have dream and aspirations that stems from their survival then?

    EE: Oh trust me, homeboy, I’m fully aware those bastards have hope and dream, I just don’t care.

    Dr. T: Quite… selfish of you, no?

    EE: Isn’t it natural for us all to be selfish? What’s wrong with thinking for yerself eh?

    Dr. T: Well, how would you explain compassion and selflessness then? Aren’t those also natural to humans?

    EE: Right, first, you know the most virtuous bastard running around here yea? I know he’s been in and out of this place for a while.

    Dr. T: Since you’re his close friend, I assume it’s Mr. Lunafang, yes?

    EE: Wanker is so big on saving lives he really messes up so with many jobs. Don’t get me wrong, mate, he’s a killing machine, just that flaw getting in the way. So I asked him “why ya love saving lives?” He told me “If I didn’t, won’t be able to sleep at nights”

    Dr. T: So to you, compassion is just a selfish need for self-validation? Seems like your hallucinations aren’t simple as grief I reckon.

  5. Fly
    By Taja DaLeen

    “Come, fly with me!”

    Thanks to my cleverness they all follow me. And due to the promise of never ending fun and youth; no responsibilities, no growing up, nothing to impede on simply enjoying the moment.

    “What is it like? Will there be fairies or things to fear?”

    That’s what they all ask. What it’s like? Well, it’s a trip. The second one to the right and then straight on until morning light; a trip to somewhere everyone wants to go.

    Or, that’s what they think.

    There might even be fairies, if one’s lucky. If you want to consider them fairies. But no, nothing to fear.

    It will be quick.

    My main targets are children, obviously. The more youthful, and gullible, the better.

    All praise to innocence.

    “This is amazing!”

    This one’s just the same as all the others; still so young, still able to see magic everywhere. A true believer. It didn’t take long to teach her how to fly.

    And how she loves it. Everything about it; the freedom, the pure joy and adrenaline. Up and down she flies, round and round in circles.

    It is quite lovely to watch her, to listen to her laughter. She’s clearly enjoying herself; living in the moment.

    Tasting every second of it.

    “They’re so cute!”

    And she’s one of the lucky ones, the fairy birds love her. Flying with her and around her, sparkling and shining bright. With huge eyes she regards them, and is even able to pet one.

    But everything has to end, eventually. That’s life. Giggling she flies into the light; and then – falls.

    Just like that.

    Just like that, she fell into my trap. Her flying was all it took for her to end up in my ritualistic circle; and the rest is history.

    I would be sorry, but business is business. It’s nothing personal, dear.

    And as long as there’s people paying well for staying young just that little bit longer, business will stay business.

    1. Starting from the second sentence, you can already tell something off. What exactly is the cause only becomes apparent as you read on. The pov of the character we follow is fairly light hearted despite the cruel deed they are about to perform, what exactly is not clear, but the ending line certainly doesn’t paint a rosy picture. Such a charming story despite the subject matter. Great job in conveying it in so few words.

    2. I love the peter pan vibes I got from this, I will say you wrote the sense of wonder from an outside perspective really well. And the reveal of it being a ritual sacrifice was handled great, especially thanks to that second sentence, from then on I was just anticipating what was gonna go wrong, really kept me hooked

    3. Cheezesammich Avatar
      Cheezesammich

      I love the dark, cynical take on Peter Pan. It’s reminiscent on the Brothers Grimm. You’ve done a brilliant job of striking a right balance between whimsical and creepy, such that the audience can tell that something is amiss as soon as they start reading it.

      I would, however, suggest you work around with the line:
      “Just like that, she fell into my trap. Her flying was all it took for her to end up in my ritualistic circle; and the rest is history.”

      Her falling into a trap after flying was already evident in the story, there might be a more succinct and subtle way to introduce the ritualistic circle. Great job regardless!

    4. Stealing life to sell to others?
      Not unheard of.
      I assume the targets are children because they have more life ahead of them?
      Is it 1-1? Is this little girl going to get somebody an extra fifty years of life?
      How does that work out for them? Surely people would notice something was up once they hit triple digits.
      Or does it require more “life energery” to give older beings more years, or months, or even days?

      I’m curious about the actual scenario though. Did the girl get to “neverland”? Why was she flying into a light?

      Anyway, I’m no stranger to grim and or dark takes on Peter Pan, but this is probably the most depressing take on it.

    5. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, I love dark references, and I wouldn’t expect a dark reference to Peter Pan of all things.

      The way you mix the references and a somewhat ambiguous imagery is really clever – it paints a very horrific image, one that probably wouldn’t feel so dark if all was presented in a clearer way. There is a lot to be glimpsed from the shadows, and this really amplifies how disturbing it all feels.

      The effect is incredible, and it was really well written. I have the impression this tale will haunt me for a while, and that is the mark of well-written horror.

  6. A.W. Blackstone Avatar
    A.W. Blackstone

    Heartless Broker
    By A.W. Blackstone

    Jared checked his watch nervously. He perked up when his cell started ringing “We’re in the Money”. It was Jessica, his favorite business partner. “Hello! Haven’t heard from you in awhile,” Jared said cheerily.

    There was a long silence before Jessica responded grimly. “You heard about the school shooting about 30 minutes ago?”

    Jared nodded to himself as he tapped his pen on the stack of papers in front of him. “Yes. Seventeen children and two teachers were killed. Many others were also injured,” He answered, obviously excited.

    “Yes,” Jessica puffed an exasperated sigh. “It’s chaos down here due to being short staffed. I can quickly procure some goods if you’re looking to buy. Need anything specific?”

    “Oh, you know, the usual specimens, but…” Jared leafed through the highlighted names on the transplant list. “Do you have any B negative, AB negative, or AB positive hearts, livers or kidneys? I’ll pay double for any of those.” He had already made a few preliminary calls. The affluent spared no expense to save their children.

    “I’m sure I’ll be able to get at least one of each unnoticed,” Jessica’s voice reeked of weariness.

    “Wonderful! I’ll send Terry over in hospital scrubs for the priority pick ups throughout the day,” Jared acknowledged casually, while silently bouncing up and down in his office chair. His plan had worked!

    “Okay. The first pick up will be available in 30 minutes tops… and make sure Terry takes the service entrance this time!” Jessica chided. “He almost alerted security last time because he came in the wrong door.“

    “I’ll let him know. The payments will be deposited in your account this week. Thanks for doing business!” Jared ended the call beaming as he immediately began dialing his clients.

    He had easily brainwashed that schizophrenic man into thinking the elementary school kids were being conditioned by Illuminati teachers to ruin this country’s future. The man would be the “savior” of the nation.

    Jared was unconcerned with who lived or died. His only interest was who he could profit from. That was just good business sense.

    1. Death Aint Avatar
      Death Aint

      Nice and ruthless story about making money off crazy get rich quick schemes that rarely never work.

      1. A.W. Blackstone Avatar
        A.W. Blackstone

        Thanks. It’s meant to show the hidden side of “business” and the shady things some people in power will do. Along with the fact that if you are rich, you usually get preferential treatment. There are so many people in the world that care more about flimsy green paper than the trees and lives they kill to get it. So fcked up.

  7. the family business
    by Donovan

    He saw the way the villagers glanced away from him, like they were guilty of something only he had seen. He had been the town’s executioner for six years now, since his father retired, and he had settled into the role. It wasn’t a poor life, in material concerns. He was paid a living wage, his house was enough for two families, though it lodged only his father and himself. His mother had died three years before, of consumption. He never forgot the faces of the villagers that day, even the priest. The awkward conflicted mingling of sympathy and disregard.

    It was taboo, to work with death. The filth of it crept into every corner of a life; clung to anything he touched. The men he killed were not fair warriors, fighting on the equal grounds of battle. They were wretches, desperate and filthy, and that filth clung to him, to his whole family.

    He remembered what his father had told him, as he trained him to chop pumpkins with a sword that had no point.

    “They will need you, Michael, to put terrible men to death. But they will never thank you. It’s a gruesome business, one most men wouldn’t have the stomach to dirty their hands with. But it’s your duty to do it right. To make a clean and somber cut.”

    Yet the crowds always gathered to watch. This gruesomeness that tainted him didn’t seem to touch the onlookers that flocked to see men beheaded. That was the way of it. They needed him.

    He remembered one, a boy of only seventeen, last winter. The young man had broken into the home of an elderly couple to steal. When the husband awoke and caught him, yelling for the guards, the boy had strangled him. That killer on the execution block didn’t seem as cold as his crime. The boy was pale and shaking like a lamb, he cried for mercy, and for his mother. Michael cut his head off, he didn’t think many other men could.

    1. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      That’s pretty grim. You don’t often get a look into the head of the executioner in fiction. Usually they’re the faceless hand of the law, even to the point of hiding behind a mask, but you’ve made a point here of showing they’re people just like the rest of us. Hopefully Michael finds something more to live for before the job weighs him down too much.

  8. The Guidance Point for the Recently Departed
    By Lulumin

    “Well, looks like your papers are all in order. Just head down that hall into the last door on the right and Angela’ll help you figure out where you’re supposed to go, alright?” Lucas stamped the topmost sheet and handed it back to the man in front of him.

    He was a mangled mess, covered in mud and blood with tire marks imprinted on his clothes and body. It was impressive he even managed to make it to this part of the office in the first place. Still, Lucas didn’t flinch when their eyes met and what was presumably a hand reached to take the documents back.

    As the man left, Lucas slumped in his chair. He groaned and ran his hand through his hair. A cup of coffee was placed on his desk. He looked up and saw his coworker smiling down at him.

    “It seems we’re quite busy today, no?” Margaret asked, taking a sip of her own drink.

    “You tell me. Don’t know what’s been going on but there’s way too many of ‘em. Gilbert screwed up the copy machine too, so that’s slowed things down back there.” Lucas grumbled, taking a swig of the coffee.

    Margaret hummed. “Well, dear, not all of us are recent arrivals. We’re not all familiar with new technology.”

    “You call 70 years ago ‘recent’?”

    She laughed and patted his head. Lucas scowled and pushed her hand away. She clicked her tongue in response, wagging one bluish finger at him.

    “Is that any way to treat your elders?”

    Lucas scoffed in response.

    “Not my fault I look young…” he mumbled.

    Margaret brought her cup to her blue-tinted lips, smiling. “Well, I’ll be going now. Best of luck to you.”

    Lucas chugged the rest of his drink and adjusted the bandages over his chest as she left. Calling out for the next one in line, an elderly lady wobbled her way to him. She slowly lowered herself onto the chair and a shaking hand slid her papers over. Examining them, he glanced back up at the woman.

    “Oh hey, lil’ sis.”

    1. You know, you could make a very cold take on negotiating the afterlife through a series of bureaucratic offices, but that’s not this. The GPRD reminds me of the vague boringness of waiting outside a doctor’s office, or at the dentist. It’s comforting in a way. And it’s nice that the humanity comes through, the office banter, the warm greeting of his older-younger sister. It almost makes sense that that’s how the afterlife would be, once again being processed by the system, with the proper paperwork. Fluorescent lighting and magazines.

  9. Charles Funk Avatar
    Charles Funk

    The Headsman
    by Charles Funk

    I found him encamped on the usual outskirts of town. Hidden around the road’s bend from passing view.

    “You are the headsman, yes?” I asked, joining his campfire.

    “What gave that away?” he retorted snidely without raising his head. Preferring to stoke the flames while motioning to his sword propped beside him. More like a headstone than any blade I’ve seen with its massive size and wide cross-guard. The only thing of worth or shined among his ragged belongings.

    Looking at it gave me chills and it apparently showed.

    “Most folks leave by then.” He said.

    “Most folks are idiots.”

    That gave him pause and a reason to finally turn to me with a pair of cold eyes that made my own grow wide and unsettled.

    “And which idiot are you?” he asked.

    “I-I’ve seen you. M-many times.” I stammered. “From the rooftops, I watch you…parading folks to the block while we cheer that grow loud for every head and swing. But none for you. Instead, you’re jeered. Chased out. And paid with coins at your feet. So…why do they hate you?”

    “Why don’t you?” He raised a brow.

    “You kill scum but are treated worse than scum when you should be praised.”

    “I paid no mind as long as I’m paid well.” He shrugged. “That’s the only praise I deserve for this trade.”

    “But it’s not fair.” I pressed.

    “Oh, but it is.” He replied. “Even filth deserve justice. And I provide just that. Vindication. Absolution. Dirtying my hands so as theirs would be clean. Even if that filth stays with me forever.”

    “I don’t understand.”

    “Pray you never do.” He said and nothing more. Leaving me with a riddle that brought more questions than answers.

    Time would make me forget all that though. Our talk. His name. We did not meet again until years later when I found him atop the scaffold in front of all. Only when he raised his blade did I finally found the answer to that riddle years ago. His sword was not a headstone and instead of fear, I felt only peace.

    1. I really enjoyed the way you wrote the dialogue that carries the story for the most part. It allows you to gleam so much despite saying so little.
      When it comes to business and death, it is only natural that someone will have to do the dirty work, even more so when it comes to rightful deaths. I’m glad you went with the point of even ‘filth’ deserving justice. When it comes to such matters that often involve emotions, it is quite easy to forget human decency.
      Although, I’m not quite sure I understood the last part? It might just be me though.

      1. Charles Funk Avatar
        Charles Funk

        Thank you for the kind reply, Coffee. I very much appreciate it and happier still that you enjoyed it.
        I must admit that I found difficulty putting those last few lines to words so I may have missed the mark of it.

        Suffice to say when the Narrator first saw the sword, he saw a headstone. Now that he was on the chopping block added with the riddle the executioner gave him, he now saw it as a crucifix. And that gave him peace.

        A little symbolism that slipped my hands, hehe

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Well, usually it is pretty difficult to work a timejump in a story with such a strict word limit, and here it is done beautifully. I just love how the whole business of dealing death carries with it an stigma, and a mystery with it. The whole conversation ending on a riddle, and its answer only becoming clear to the narrator as he is living the riddle (in a sense) is great – also great that it is not at all that clear for the reader. It leaves a lot to be imagined: about the riddle, about those killed, about the life of the executioner and the society it takes place, and obviously, about death.

      Great tale!

  10. Quetzalcoatl Avatar
    Quetzalcoatl

    The dark merchant

    By Quetzalcoatl

    “Say, say, have you heard, heard about him?”

    “About whom, whom are you talking about?”

    “About him, him, the one with the mask.”

    “The mask? The mask of bird, that is no mask at all?”

    “Yes, him, him it is I mean.”

    “Tell me why, why you ask about the stranger?”

    “Why, you ask why? I have seen him, yes, seen him once. It was in a dark back street alley, a forgotten alley, with no use at all, a construction error, I use once bored.”

    “Once bored!”

    “Yes, once bored. There I have seen him, seen him with two others, two others like us. They talked, talked with unheard voices. Only HIM spoke clear, clear, not loud, a dark, dark crackling voice, with laughter, laughter resembling bird, a bird like his face, yet unlike any bird of us. He praised his merchandise, his merchandise that was only a single thing, a single thing, he said, that was the UNKOWN, something no Eternal has ever seen before.”

    “No one? No one at all? That’s impossible, ridiculous impossibility!”

    “I though so too, yes, I did think that, but his voice, voice absent of light, spoke of something other than eternity, eternity, that is to be ended´.”

    Ended´? To be ended´? What is this word, this word he spoke of?”

    “I know not, not known it is by me either. But after short haggle, he showed his merchandise, merchandise the two have bought. Whirling, whirling in black wind he presented a darker case, case to be opened, of darker colour than his mantle was. Once open, an archway appeared, appeared with a starry night sky veil, keeping the other side hidden. This veil they passed, passed the two, and all had disappeared, the two, the two like us, the merchant and his merchandise. Only, I have caught a single glimpse at the other side. Nothing, nothing really to be described by words, solely, yes, solely one thing came to my mind, mind which has seen the other side. That that was, was what he meant byEND´.”

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This one is very, very interesting. Not necessarily an easy reading, but that’s part of the beauty of it. I really liked how you created a kind of repetitive style for the way the birds talk among themselves – it is both very marking, but also does not feel forced. There is a naturality at how the repetitions come that sounds almost like when we predict the repetitions on a birds call – so, well, great job there. Also, it is really difficult to convey a whole story in the word limit we impose ourselves. Using repetition as a handicap makes it doubly so, and here we have a very complete and self-sufficient story.

      I like the almost poetic way the things are described. The whole scene is mysterious and compelling, but the narration and the speech style is what sold it to me. Great tale here!

  11. Norman Gray Avatar
    Norman Gray

    We Lie Among Giants
    By Norman Gray

    Only a fool would tempt the evil that lies buried in the Blightlands.

    I recount this, the tale of my final burial, as a warning to those fool-hearted enough to press their ear to a gravedigger’s hill.

    We were known as Excavators: Undertakers for slain giants. Though much praise is given to the heroes who slay these great beasts, death is merely a slumber for them; it is the Excavators who keep them from returning, subduing them through burial. . . Our graves mar lands where the horizon was once unobscured. Our work is legend; children daring one another to press an ear to any hill they stumble upon, listening for a heartbeat, or a sleeping giant’s breath.

    When we came upon the Strider of the Blightlands, it was face-down in the mud, yet still it measured nearly as high as a fortress wall. So, we buried it where it had been slain, upturning the earth beneath it. We dug trenches that encircled the body, in hopes that the Strider’s weight would collapse the ground underneath itself.

    Herein lies the danger of our duty. Far too often men are entombed along with the slain; caught in the earthentide, unable to escape a cave-in. Our trenches reached far underground, and time was running short. No longer was there room for caution, as the beast would soon reawaken.

    When the soil finally gave way, it moved like floodwater. There was no time; not even our screams could escape. The giant fell into the earth, and we fell with it.

    Eighty men, buried in the Blightlands. . . And I, among them.

    So I pray, that anyone foolish enough to stand atop this hill, might hear my voice through the cacophony of the dead. . . A heart is beating, and I know for certain that it is not my own. And though my colleagues cry out for help, it is not theirs either, for our fate was sealed long ago.

    It is the creature. It stirs.

    Do not heed our cries. Disturb not our graves. . . For we lie among giants.

    1. I want to start off with: Wow. This might be one of my favorite stories I’ve read for any of the prompts; the idea alone is intriguing, and you executed it so well. I want to hear more about the Excavators, other projects they’ve undertaken. I want to hear more about the giants, and the heroes who bring them down. This is such a short piece and I’m more invested in this world than most novels do. Bravo!

    2. This was so cool! The entire piece had a very ominous feeling. The ending was very impactful and while expected, the statement that the heartbeat was the creature’s caught me off guard. The Excavators and their role seemed really interesting and made me want to learn more about them and the world overall. This was really well done!

    3. This is so god damn cool. The question of what happens to all those slain monsters answered. Extremely creative. The idea alone of a monk-like order that keeps things dead, acting almost as the decomposers in a ritual system is cool enough, but there’s more. The warning for others, the firsthand account playing out almost like a mining accident, wonderful. This story does something that only my favourite short stories do. It writes a larger story in smaller words, conveys a world through a scene, a life in paragraphs. Well done.

    4. A.W. Blackstone Avatar
      A.W. Blackstone

      Amazing story. It has depth and mystery. It is detailed but also vague. It leaves so many more questions than answers, which is a good thing in this case! How are the giants subdued just by burial? Why would someone take a dangerous job as an excavator? What causes the excavators to still have awareness after death? This really stirs up the brain matter on a larger tale to be told.

    5. This was an amazing read. The idea, the language, it was all just fabulous. It really does read like a cautionary tale, a melancholic return to what happened.
      There’s also just enough exposition to know what’s going on, nothing more is needed.
      The only minor nitpick I have is that you used “fool” in both the first and second paragraph, but that doesn’t really take away from the story told.

      Thank you for writing and sharing!

    6. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was a joy to read. What a story! All the elements here are well threaded together, and the tapestry they present is marvelous. The tone, the language, the mystery of how this particular voice – and those that were also buried with it – are able to keep pleading for help and also advising against disturbing this burial site… really great read.

      Also, what an interesting premisse to have giants of all monsters keep coming back alive. There is the whole logistic problem of dealing with a giant burial instead, and the idea that it must be mantained for… well, ever afterwards – that’s a chilling prospect. And who knows what mounds might not be an ancient lost burial ground?

      Really amazing tale. Great premise, amazing execution, and an overall great experience in reading!

      1. Norman Gray Avatar
        Norman Gray

        Oh man, I didn’t even think about ancient burial grounds. . . They could accidentally unearth one giant while trying to bury another!

  12. Purge, Bearer of Wrath Avatar
    Purge, Bearer of Wrath

    The Battle That Was
    by Purge, Bearer of Wrath

    Magister Aisha Lodd lay in the waters of the bathhouse and followed the bright traces of the battle that was through the layers and branches of her mind’s garden.

    She saw the death of Halder, her apprentice and sometimes confidante. Slight, fair of face, freckled, prone to joy. How had Halder found his way to the van? Aisha Lodd revisited the dreadful flight of the fellspear. She felt the sting of it, the barbed tang of malifice as it entered her apprentice’s flesh. She circled the moment of his letting go. Some day a beauty would find its way out of the numb vice of loss. But not today.

    Halder had fallen. But that sacrifice and the sacrifice of those who stood with him had bought the time that was so desperately needed. Time for Gulianna’s skyhorde to breach the voidwall. Time for Aisha and the Keepers to rally at the Last Elm. Time for belief to regrow in the hearts of the women and men of Ekken.

    The price had been much. The Quaeoth always extracted a price. The price was always too much.

    But the day was Ekken’s. Wounds would heal. Towns could be rebuilt. And the memories of those who gave their lives would not be left to tarnish.

    And what of The Quaeoth? The intricate code of their nobility was forged in a relentless drive towards perfection. Their victories and exploits reached even to the Loose Worlds. Ancient. Proud. But. If they hid one hubris, one conceit: it was ever in their unwillingness to sound a retreat.

    Few were left alive upon the fields of Guth.

    As Magister Aisha Lodd walked from the bathhouse, she was arrested by the approach of a runner from Treasury.

    “It’s… it’s the arbiters from offworld!” The messenger struggled to find his breath.

    “From Cavo Nall? The insurers?”

    “Yes, Magister Lodd.” The messenger rubbed sweat from his eye. “It’s bad.”

    Aisha surveyed him cautiously.

    “They’re… they’re refusing to pay!” His voice did not want to believe, but he went on. “They’re calling it an act of god!” he spluttered.

  13. ArtemisSage Avatar
    ArtemisSage

    Angel Shot
    by: ArtemisSage

    “So, what will it be, dearie?”

    The lady behind the counter smiled at me, yet it was off. As though she already knew what I had come for. Which likely wasn’t hard. Everyone I had asked for help from said this was the place. And upon seeing this woman, I knew they had been right.

    “I… I was told you could help me,”

    “I can. For a price,”

    That bothered me. Not so much that there was a price, I had figured as much, but the way she had added on the second part. As though it had been an afterthought. And I couldn’t blame her. I didn’t have much money, and given how off-putting she was, I got the sensation she already knew as much.

    Yet there was nothing else I could do. I was already at my limit, and this was my last choice. I’d offer every last penny I had if it meant I could get what I came for.

    “I don’t have much-”

    “Money is of no use here, child. No, the price you must pay is worth the weight of the question,”

    That confused me. How could a question carry with it any weight? But she wasn’t turning me away. Which told me that, at the very least, she was willing to hear my request. Yet, how could I ask straight out? This wasn’t anything I had ever said completely to myself, let alone aloud to someone else.

    “Well, see, I don’t really know HOW to ask. I’ve kept this to myself for so long that I don’t really have the words for it anymore,”

    “Only if you can ask the question may I provide you assistance,”

    Damn woman. She knew full well why I was here, yet felt the need to make me say it out loud for the world to hear. And why not, she could simply hand me over once I said my piece and she’d never get in trouble.

    “How much…? How much to stop my husband?”

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I love the instrospective bits on how the narrator reads the situation and presents her inner thoughts. We follow someone that is at the end of one’s rope, and betting on something that certainly is complicated. Risky, dangerous, costly? Probably, all of them.

      And the tone of the lady behind the counter is lovely, though there is a hint of gravitas in the delivery that really sell the drama of the piece (and, well, following the thoughts of the narrator, we can’t help but see it through their eyes and put ourselves in their feet).

      Great tale, really engaging writing. I just love it!

    2. A.W. Blackstone Avatar
      A.W. Blackstone

      I love the tone of voice and manner of the lady behind the counter. Reminds me of someone who takes care of business calmly, no matter what that might be. The wife’s hesitation and annoyance are understandable through her inner monologue, but some parts are confusing. Why would the lady hand over the wife after asking her question and to whom?
      And I think the ending needs more clarity. I know it’s part of her issue, but I don’t like the use of “stop” in her question. It’s too vague for all the build up. Considering the theme, it’s obviously “murder” but could also be about stopping him from having affairs, gambling, doing drugs, etc. which don’t always involve death. Otherwise, I like the premise.

    3. That was an interesting one. Considering the prompt, it’s clear what this is about, but the who and why is what’s interesting in this case. The way the story is written, one can already get the feeling that it is both urgent, and the last possibility to have a problem solved.
      Both characters feel like real people, too; which is quite the feat, since one is mostly characterized by what she is saying. So good job on that.
      What really got me was the last line though. We know the “who” now, but the “why” is still speculation; but the way it is worded makes it seem like the husband is a not-so-good person. So, lots of questions there. But good ones!

      All in all, this was a really interesting story, I like it! Thank you for writing and sharing it.

  14. The Missing Link Avatar
    The Missing Link

    Death for a Salesman
    By: The Missing Link

    The old CRT crackled to life, lines of static crackling across the screen as the speakers strained from disuse.

    A greasy man in a patterned blazer appeared on the screen with a smile as sweet as the cigar he pulled from his blackening teeth. After breathing out a thick ring of smoke, he spoke in that breathy, fake, supplicating voice common to people of his kind, “Come one, come all, right on down to Death’s Door.” A short tune crackled across at his press of a button.

    The camera zoomed out to reveal the merchandise as spiky bubbles littered the screen with prices. The variety was astounding. Ropes, knives, vials, and guns. There were even… mannequins in hockey masks holding the products.

    “Here at Death’s Door, we can provide you anything you could possibly desire. Shot, poisoned, kidnapped, or stabbed.”

    The mannequins performed these actions as he said them, the smile never leaving his face. The camera jerked quickly between them before raising itself to display in full view the man standing in the ring of corpses. One could almost call it artistic in a way.

    “Any way you could want, we can help you die, but wait, there’s more. Death’s Door has an acclaimed notary at your service twenty-four hours a day. Wills, life insurance, all here for your best convenience.”

    An address and phone number loudly flashed across the screen in another bubble as the man sang along to the insert tune.

    At the phrase, “So come on down today,” the door to the room opened slowly.

    A small voice ventured in as the commercial came to an end, “Daddy?”

    The young girl never managed to ask her question, stifled in the scream following the sight of the revolver dangling by the trigger guard from a limp finger.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, I love the darkness of it. Such a bleak world where one can just sell the choices of how to off oneself. And the description, the vibe of a advertisement, that just adds to the bleakness.

      And, well, the ending compounds it, with another layer of emotions – not just bleak, but despairing, overwhelming sad.

      And yet, the tone is almost comedic. Great use of darkness, great use of dissonant tone.

      I don’t know if you have ever heard of the musician Arjen Anthony Lucassen, but I couldn’t help but remember one of his songs””Doctor Slumber’s Eternity Home. It has a similar (well, considering the media, maybe less dark and more upbeat) tone while dealing with the heaviness of that choice.

      Great tale!

      1. The Missing Link Avatar
        The Missing Link

        Thanks. I was trying to do something a bit different from usual with this one, so that’s great if it worked, though I’m not familiar with that artist. Might take a listen later.

    2. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      Loved the imagery of this, comedic yet creepy. Almost Beetlejuice-like, but darker.

      The last paragraph confused me, it took me a few reads to get that the man watching the commercial had shot himself (or at least I think that’s what happened?). I wasn’t sure who was holding the revolver, why they’re dangling it, I wasn’t even sure if this was happening in the commercial, or in the room with the TV.

      I couldn’t help but read the greasy man’s dialog in a southern accent; your commercial reminds me of a character created by the band Lord Huron, named Tubbs Tarbell; in the lore of their albums and videos, Tubbs is the owner of a haunted record studio, and makes creepy T.V. commercials selling records written by the ghosts of bands that haunt the recording studio.

      1. The Missing Link Avatar
        The Missing Link

        The last bit was a bit hard to make work. Basically I was trying to do the camera of the scene panning back from the TV into the room, but that was a bit difficult to get across clearly in text.

        Southern dialogue makes sense. My big idea was making him seem like a sleazy used car salesman like you’d see on TV.

        As for whether he’s something supernatural or not, I think the ambiguity adds to it, but that sounds like an interesting band.

    3. A.W. Blackstone Avatar
      A.W. Blackstone

      The imagery of this is great. I can definitely see this as a “legitimate” business in a dystopian future. However it doesn’t have a post apocalyptic feel, which I like. I also wonder if the commercial is actually for a physical business or a hypnotic suggestion for people to commit suicide.

      I agree with the others it was hard to grasp the ending. I read it as the daughter walked in on the filming of the commercial. The use of “guard” confused me and I had to read it a few times. Realistically, a gun would be to heavy to hang on a limp finger. Maybe have the gun on the floor as blood drips from his wound down his hand onto it?
      Still, it was engaging and I love it.

  15. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “Treasure Hunters”

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    It was inky black in the hallway. We were down in the Abyssal Zone of the city and only our headlamps pushed back the darkness.

    Crack. Hiss. The fumes of the old sealed up apartment retched out into the hallway.

    “Think we’ll find anything in this tomb, Michelle. Other than old junk, I mean,” Rastaran said.

    “I certainly hope so,” I said from behind my breathing mask as I leaned harder into the crowbar.

    The door cracked open just wide enough to get us inside.

    Our lights, the only lights down here, pierced the long untouched darkness of the tomb. We surveyed the tomb. Glittering trophies to accomplishments now meaningless, the glint of an old video monitor now long out of date, and the loose bones of its former owner resting in an old recliner. It was the mold and old bacteria that was dangerous down here. That’s what kept us wearing the masks and hazmat suits.

    Rastaran entered the room and shook his head. “Well, some of this could be sold as scrap I guess,” he sighed.

    “Start searching anyway,” I muttered.

    Rastaran headed into one of the backrooms sending up a trail of dust that danced in his wake. I still marveled at the durability of the ancient construction. The use of anti-gravity tech helped too. Still, these old tombs were holding up several miles of buildings rising into the skies.

    I shook my head to clear my thoughts and began digging through one of the drawers. Suddenly I noticed something odd. An old credit chip, and credits are always good. I linked it to my datapad and saw it listed several thousands of credits. Jackpot!

    I turned to tell Rastaran our good fortune, but then I saw the blood pooling from the room he’d gone into. Something blind and insectile shuddered in the dark of that room. I turned and ran.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, I love a good post-apocalyptic (or, at least post-apocalyptic-adjacent) story, and the whole description of the tomb raiders raiding what to the readers are somewhat modern but probably futuristic “tombs” is great. There is a lot of environment storytelling just in conveying how familiar the apartment-tomb is, and the narrative elements that help in understanding what kind of world this is set in are very well paced. Informative without being intrusive. Great narrative style.

      The build-up to the ending is also quite well-done. Adventure? Exploration? Terror? Why not all of them!

      Really great story, Arith! Very engaging!

    2. O_O
      THAT took a turn!
      The “credit chip” part raised some questions for how long it’d been, and how much society had changed. Both between “now” (I assume) and when the person died. As well as between then and the “present”. It’s just interesting to think that the same financial institutions survived the apocalypse or whatever. Like Frye in Futurama. They died with $250 in their bank account and collect .5% interest for 5,000 years.

      The insect thing at the end kind of reminded me of the movie Evolution. With whatever managed to survive in this undercity becoming entirely new and, apparently, exceptionally dangerous new creatures from living in an exceptionally harsh environment.

      It’s a cool concept. Wonder what happened.

  16. I’d Do That For Free (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    by Makokam

    “Mr. Rose is here, Madame,” the Butler said.

    “He’s early,” Mrs. Alarie said as she set her coffee on the table. “That bodes well,” she said to the others in the room as she straightened her dress and squared her shoulders. “Send him in.”

    The room was silent as a man with ruffled hair and a long coat walked in. He paused to glance around the room, “Hmm”’d, and continued walking. He walked passed the middle of the room, which raised many an eyebrow, and stopped a few feet from Mrs. Alarie. He kept his hands in his pockets as he asked, “You have a job offer for me?”

    She smiled to herself and said, “Your reputation precedes you.”

    “I wasn’t aware I had one.”

    “Oh, you have quite the reputation. In the right circles.” She said.

    Mr. Rose chuckled. “I have a feeling I know what the job is then.”

    “Indeed. The Alarie family has been in control of this city for over a century. Recently, however, keeping control out of the hands of the Beaumont family has been difficult. Well,” she smirked, “Difficult without having it traced back to us that is.”

    “You want me to take them out for you then.”

    “To be blunt about it, yes.” She raised a finger. “However, as I said we don’t want any of this leading back to us, so you’ll take out who we say, when we say.”

    “Sure. So how would you be doing that? Burner phone?”

    She rolled her fingers and put two fingers to her lips, and Jonathan heard a voice say in his mind, “Oh, we have better ways than that.”

    He tilted his head.

    Her face fell just the slightest bit at his lack of reaction.

    “If you’re gonna put words in my head telling me to kill people you’re gonna need to be clearer it’s you,” he said, a smirk slowly growing on his face.

    “Regardless,” she said, straightening even more, “We’re prepared to offer you two thousand per month as a retainer, with an additional ten thousand per job.”

    “Sounds like a deal.”

    1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      Once again, I see Johnathan at it again doing murder for hire. This story has solid design to it. You give good dramatic details leading to the introduction giving us build up to the job. Both in the solemnness of the introduction, followed by the word dance about this job being a hit (the talk about his reputations in the right circles, etc.). Then the play about control, Alarie insisting on control of when and who is murdered with precision. Then the really good, surprise telepathy! Only to have her bubble burst that he implies he’s got a lot of voices in his head telling him to murder! XD Finally it all wraps up neatly with a deal being made along with generous pay.

      There aren’t many criticisms I have for this story. I just noticed a few minor nitpicks. Mostly the minor bit in the line: “Oh, you have quite the reputation. In the right circles.” She said. should be a comma inside the quotations marks and a lower case S for she said. But otherwise it looks really good! Great story!

    2. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      Ah, a good old fashion hitman negotiation. I Like the story as a whole, though for something that is majority dialogue, I think some lines could’ve been written a little differently to make it more interesting considering a lot of this is the average “I am powerful person and I will pay you money for job” spiel. The telepathy was an interesting idea, and I wonder whether they are simply transmitting their message, or are they going directly command him against his will… I kind of wish it was explored a tad more instead of being a brief bit towards the end. Overall though, I thought you did a good job with this story.

    3. You know, the Imogene story would have worked perfectly for this prompt as well. Lol that said, not gonna lie, literally threw back my head in laughter at that voices line. It’s just so perfectly done. Especially because he’s completely serious, but it comes across a little like a joke.

      You did a great job with the setup here, though. This absolutely works as a standalone story, but it’s a very satisfying read when you’re familiar with Jonathan as well. The build up to the offer and Jonathan’s casual acceptance of both the offer and the random telepathy were spot on. Great story!

    4. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Always a treat to read. :D. Loved the part of the reputation. You never know what people think of you.

  17. Cheezesammich Avatar
    Cheezesammich

    Seine
    By Cheezesammich

    I remember the first time the hunters came, their ship cutting through the sky, an obsidian nightmare on an azure vista.

    It was like night had come for us. The fear was instant. Before we could react, before we knew to react, a great invisible force had enveloped us. After the chaos that followed, I found myself alone, watching as my entire family was lifted into the great darkness of the ship above, never to be seen again.

    I hoped that day would never come again, but my hope was futile.

    Now, as I sit within a storm of my panicked neighbours, staring up at the obsidian nightmare once more, I wonder what purpose my hope served. I feel the invisible force surrounding us again. I look up at the hunter’s ship, growing in the distance as we’re lifted ever higher. My fear is gone. I know my fate is inescapable.

    We break through the sky and I am rendered breathless. I can barely register the world above; it’s impossibly dry and cold. My body struggles beyond reason, jackknifing against the heaviness of my own head.

    I see the hunter’s ship for what it truly is, a massive behemoth of black stone with surfaces smoother than the sky on the quietest of days. In the middle, a last vision of horror- thousands of bodies piled carelessly in a writhing, fleshy heap. As I feel my neighbours dying below me, I know that we are next.

    As my vision grows dark, I see the hunters for the first time – gargantuan creatures with four tentacles, like bulbous squids. They defy explanation. One of them reaches out with its two highest tentacles, each of them split at the end into five smaller branches. I look at the hunter’s face and witness sunken, swollen eyes staring back at me.

    As the force field opens and we spill out onto the ground in front of the hunter, its impossible size is made real. As my vision clouds over completely and I am crushed by the dead around me, I am left only with questions.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      The whole thing about the situation being, in a sense, incomprehensible is an interesting way to take it. A risky one, I’d add, since we are dealing with a descriptive medium, and when the description tends towards growing confusion, rather than growing understanding, well, it might not land well.

      Here, though, I think it worked. This feels a lot like the last moments of someone whose world has just been shatered, and whose mind is despairingly trying to make sense of what’s going on. And the fact that the visitation of the hunters is not a new thing… that compounds how dreadful and confusing this world is. Cosmic horror vibes abound!

      I really like that the last line probably is what echoes with the reader was well. Is that an abduction? What are the hunters, really? What is their goal? Why have they come back? So many questions, and yet, the narrator’s life is gone before we are able to answer them. As is the story.

      Risky one, but it works! Very interesting tale!

  18. Reinkarnitor Avatar
    Reinkarnitor

    Death’s just Part of it (Agency X)

    by Reinkarnitor

    Horrible…absolutely horrible…the entire place was dripping with blood and various organs were scattered everywhere. But it was nothing new to the detective, who walked through the chaos which the killer left behind this time.

    X sighed. When Scotland Yard first asked for his assistance he was sceptical if they really needed him, since he normally did not really work on such…normal cases. But upon seeing it with his own eyes he understood immediately that this was not done by a normal killer. This time as well, like so many times before, he could almost feel that something…supernatural…has been here.

    “I’ll start taking samples and hope I won’t throw up” his assistant Nia Blade said, and X nodded. “Then I will try to figure out how the killer came in.”

    As he was standing on the roof, it did not take the detective long to find some marks on the gutter, and he once again asked himself what kind of being needed to climb up a house and break in but was able to easily rip apart a human being.

    He stood up and looked over the rooftops of London. Smoke rose from the chimneys and fog crawled through the streets. Who could have done this? A lunatic? Or someone who actually gained something from it?

    “Deep in thought?”

    The voice of the black-haired girl which suddenly appeared behind him made X almost fall off the roof.

    “My god, Emma, do not scare me like that all the time!” he lectured her, and the ghost smiled mischievously as her red eyes lit up slightly.

    “Apologies” she then said. “What were you thinking about?”

    “Just…what kind of person would make a business of death…like that” X answered after calming down a little.

    Emma did not answer but looked at him when he chuckled.

    “I guess technically I am also making a business of it.”

    “Don’t be ridiculous. The business you do is not taking lives.”

    He shook his head, but she continued, while taking his hand.

    “You catch those, who make a real business of death.”

    “Well…I suppose you are right.”

    1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      An interesting piece exploring the detective X and his struggle to hunt down this murderer. As a reader I find myself wanting more (always a good thing). I suppose I ended up wondering why the shift in action. We find ourselves exploring clues, pondering thoughts perhaps on the edge of realizing some key clue. And then suddenly Emma the ghost girl appears and we shift to a thoughtful discussion about the business of murder and catching murders. I’m all the more curious as to what is going on with the murder, so I ended wondering why the tone shift toward the end from detective exploration energy to thought discussion? Regardless though, this was a good story just left me wanting more of what happens next for the detective’s search for the killer! All in all and excellent story! I look forward to more to come perhaps.

  19. I Met Death and He Roasted Me

    By Joe

    (CW: Reference to Suicide)

    Garrett woke up to a void and a skeleton at a desk wearing an all black suit and tie. He assumed it was Death, but instead of a scythe Death held a pen.

    “12/25/2087, 4:10 a.m. Cause of death: Suicide by overdose,” Death sighed. “Again.”

    “Damn! I’m sorry. Did you expect a more glorified death?”

    “Not really an expectation when you can point out depressed loners who’re going to off themselves during the holidays.”

    “Hey, fuck you!” Garrett flipped Death the bird.

    “That the finger that took your virginity?”

    “That the desk they bend you…” Garrett’s mouth shut suddenly, as if forced closed.

    “We’re straying off subject,” said Death. “You killed yourself. And now your here. Before you can continue you must admit as to why.”

    Garrett’s jaw was released. “You already said why. It’s the holiday’s and I was lonely.”

    “And depressed,” Death raised a finger.

    “Yeah,” Garrett said passive aggresively. “That to.”

    “Why?”

    “Why what?”

    “Why were you lonely and depressed?”

    “What is this a therapy session?!” Garrett threw up his hands. “I thought you were supposed to escort me to the afterlife!”

    “Technically you’re in the afterlife. You’re dead, therefore no longer living. You can’t go back. Only onto what’s next.”

    “And what’s that?”

    Death didn’t answer. Garrett already knew why and let out a long sigh.

    “Because look at me,” He said glumly, and paused.

    “I understand.”

    “Pff. Do you?”

    “Your right. I don’t.” Death said sarcastically. “I just meet people regularly who off themselves because of insecurities, and feel no validation for their preferences, no matter how right or wrong they are. But what do I know?”

    “And mine?”

    “Do you really want to feel validated by a diety, or by the people who were alive with you since day one?”

    Garrett hung his head.

    Death sighed. “It’s not my job to care, it’s my job to make sure the soul is worthy for another chance. Hopefully, you’ll find caring people in the next life.”

    Garrett looked up. “You mean…”

    Death lifted their hand. “Live again…and don’t give up this time.”

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Maybe our readings are all too colored by the things we bring with us to the stories; perhaps, even more than the stories themselves bring us. I don’t know. But I just can’t read it without thinking of Nietzsche’s Eternal Recurrence. Is it the themes of the story, is it my own interests and preferences dictating how I see it? Perhaps, there is a bit of both in it. Perhaps.

      The way I see it, this Death is not really bored or annoyed with the newcomer, but he reacts as he does in a sort of approaching attempt. The offenses exchanged are a bit in a similar sort of ballpark of offenses, so maybe the newcomer can start to see someone in Death that he can empathize (or empathize with him) in some way. And, well, he desperately need it, despite being dead.

      Maybe that’s just my reading, and I’m sure others will come with different readings here, but the way I see it, this bureaucrat Death is equal parts sympathetic and fatalistic – which is a great way of portraying Death. I really liked this character.

      Great story! And another Death to the gallery of interesting Deaths (I confess that, after the initial description, I was primed to hear his voice as that of Manny Calavera, which might have detracted a bit from the tone, but did wonders in eliciting sympathy). And here’s a like.

      1. I see what you mean. I actually didn’t know what Nietzsche’s Eternal Recurrence was until you brought it up.

        And… yeah!

        That’s almost exactly how I wrote it. I wrote Death giving someone another chance at life, and Eternal Recurrence is literally dying and being born again forever. The only difference is that my version of Death presents it as an option rather than a guarantee.

        So you’re not far off. I think you interpret it that way because it’s analogous to Nietzsche’s Eternal Recurrence.

        And how I wanted to portray Death’s personality was exactly as you said, “equal parts sympathetic and fatalistic”. I wrote it this way to fit the prompts need for a business reference, so I made him into this callous yet caring manager of an office space in a void. That cold but straightforward boss that gives harsh but helpful advice.

        Also, I’ve never heard of Manny Calavera until now. It actually looks fun. You can never go wrong with a Noir. I can see how you were primed to hear that. Meanwhile, I personally pictured Death’s voice as Death from the Netflix Castlevania anime. Darker, edgier, and gravelly. But that’s because it was the last interpretation of Death I heard.

        Before that, it was J. Michael Tatum by default.

        But anyways, thank you for the read and the like.

    2. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      I really like this, Joe!! It’s always interesting when people explore the intricacies of suicide within 350 words, and I think you did a good job with it. I enjoyed your take.

      I especially enjoyed Death’s personality and how the two played off each other. He was neither an imposing deity that is only serious, nor a purely comical character, but rather a bit of both–which made him feel more like a real person. He has a power, a presence to him, but also a more down-to-earth sarcasm, which made him enjoyable to read.

      “He assumed it was Death, but instead of a scythe Death held a pen.”
      –I don’t know if this line was intended to be deep, but I think it could be, and is a neat phrasing/idea. That maybe death may not be what we think. It also contains a the-pen-is-mightier-than-the-sword connotation, which I always enjoy.

      “You already said why. It’s the holiday’s and I was lonely.”
      “And depressed,” Death raised a finger.”
      –This is too funny XD
      Also, I think it adds a realism and power that you included the irl fact that suicide rates tend to go up around the holidays.

      “Why?”
      “Why what?”
      “Why were you lonely and depressed?”
      “What is this a therapy session?!” Garrett threw up his hands. “I thought you were supposed to escort me to the afterlife!”
      –I love this. I don’t think saying that Death cares would be quite accurate, but before it seemed like he might be belittling his struggles, and I love that this conveys that his stuggles do matter, and he’s digging deeper into who Garrett is, wanting teach him something about himself. And then Garrett’s response feels quite realistic to what someone might say in that situation, as well as fun.

      I also similarly enjoy Death talking about how he does understand what Garrett is going through because he’s seen it so many times. I’m not sure I completely understand the dialogue in that paragraph, but I enjoyed the idea. Death seems unsympathetic, but when you really think about it… he’s seen so much. He really would understand people more than anyone. Again, it feels like a more realistic take on death that makes him seem more like a person.

      “Do you really want to feel validated by a diety, or by the people who were alive with you since day one?”
      –This is a very poignant line.
      Like…I never thought about it that way, but it’s really interesting to phrase wanting a release as craving death’s validation. It makes you think differently.

      I adore the fact that this story ended on a note of hope. How a story ends can really color the message I walk away with, and this story makes me walk away with a good message of appreciating your life and those who care about you–which is especially important with this topic.

      It was really neat how you foreshadowed the ending. When Death said “Suicide by overdose,” Death sighed. “Again.” my immediate thought was “Oh! So he can go back?” and it’s cool how you made that work. (Though…to be fair, it does stain the ending a little, showing that he has committed suicide before, and this may just be a terrible cycle…)
      The ” You can’t go back. Only onto what’s next.” is also very interesting after the end. It seems like he’s saying, not that he can’t go back to earth/life, but rather that he can’t go back to his old life, but “next” can mean a new life on earth.

      As for critiques:

      Firstly, I noticed a typo: “Yeah,” Garrett said passive aggresively. “That to[o].”

      As I said, the line “I just meet people regularly who off themselves because of insecurities, and feel no validation for their preferences, no matter how right or wrong they are.” didn’t really make sense to me.

      Lastly…this isn’t really a critique so much as a warning.
      “That the finger that took your virginity?”…is a pretty explicit line. It’s a small line, sure, but it’s explicit enough I don’t think I’d feel comfortable reading it on the stream. A sexual joke that was a bit more subtle and vague might be okay, but something that paints a clear picture like this one is…a bit much. So I’d warn you to be careful about including those sorts of lines in the future, as it is something that could potentially get you disqualified.

      Great job!!

      1. I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised to get a direct comment from you on this site. And I greatly appreciate the feedback.

        I’ll definitely tone down the explicitness. I can live without it.

        And to clarify the line “I just meet people regularly who off themselves because of insecurities, and feel no validation for their preferences, no matter how right or wrong they are.”

        I assume it’s the last part of that line that’s confusing. I wrote it to point out that some that committed suicide were right that they didn’t feel validated because they were surrounded by terrible people, and wrong that they shouldn’t have felt insecure about a particular thing about them. But it also goes the other way because some that committed suicide have immoral preferences, like murder, and feel a disingenuous insecurity because no one else likes it.

        I hope that cleared things up. But I’ll work on specifics more in the future.

        And as for Garrett, this was actually his first time dying. The way I wrote it did seem like they’ve met before, but Death was actually exhausted that another person killed themselves during the holidays that it became routine.

        Aracnarquista noticed that this had a vibe of Eternal Recurrence. And that’s partially true, but I wanted to present the Recurrence as an option, or a potential path according to your performance through life. So there is a chance for heaven and hell, but also a chance for living again, if you deserve it.

        I’m really glad you caught the question “Do you really want to feel validated by a diety, or by the people who were alive with you since day one?”. I wanted to put that into this story because it feels like too many people care more about their God’s acceptance that they push away other people who may have the answer to their problems. If God’s really everywhere then maybe they shouldn’t deprive themselves of the perspective that his creation carries. And if God’s not here, then he already did his job and left us to hold answers for each other.

        Glad you stopped by!

  20. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    A Deal Witch You Can’t Refuse (Amory)
    (Originally from Private)
    by Lee Strangely

    The church was filled with an almost infectious silence. The town elders all looked to the open doorway. In the dead air they all internally screamed at one another, despite none having the courage to actually look one another in the eye. Through the window, the preacher grimaced as the shape in the sky drew near. Nobody really liked what was happening that night, especially the farmers who spent decades trying to keep the wretch out of their fields.

    The townspeople simply called him Crowell. In the dusk, he flew over the silhouettes of the bare treetops. He did not glide, nor did he have any obvious wings to flap. He flailed about like a puppet being pulled by several uncoordinated puppeteers.

    Even on the ground he still remained little more than a human in figure. His clothes were ragged and riddled with stitches that barely held it all together. His face seemed always just out of sight, while his hands seemed completely hidden in their sleeves.

    One of the elders timidly asked, “Is it true that you’ve… ‘dealt’ with darker forces before?”

    “Darker forces?” Crowell asked.

    “Witches,” he bleated.

    Crowell cooed, “Yes… we’ve killed many… WITCHES.” He tittered as the elders winced. There was a constant fluttering, a thumping of sorts that emanated from Crowell as he moved towards them.

    The elder brought over a short wooden stick, “We were able to steal her wand during her last attack. Is it enough to track her?”

    “What of our toll?”

    “A third of the crop will be given at harvest. As we agreed.”

    Crowell reached for the wand, vanishing within his sleeve like a serpent’s tongue, “It’ll do… Does our prey have a name?”

    The preacher then reluctantly walked over to him with a piece of paper in hand, averting his eyes.

    Crowell snickered as he looked at the name that was prematurely crossed out, “Men of faith, your fear has betrayed you. We wonder, what kind of a father would love such children?”

    1. This was a suitably haunting story for the weeks leading up to Halloween. Crowell seems more sinister than the witches he’s supposed to hunt, which is always an interesting touch in a witch-hunter. Makes me think his motives aren’t entirely selfless or even just.

      The atmosphere is also really well done here. It is incredibly spooky and the eeriness really seeps off of every passage. Something tells me that the danger of witches was grossly exaggerated by people like Crowell in this universe, but regardless, you’ve created a really spooky character here.

      Well written!

    2. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      I like the pun in the title. Crowell seems to have a very long history in this business that leads to his lack of capacity to trust the people bringing him opportunities to expand the scope of his business. I don’t have a lot of context, but the conflict between him and the villain leaves a lot of potential intrigue to go on.

  21. Tale of a bloody showman
    By Boople

    “You know, I never did ask how you got all those scars.”

    The crackle of the fire and the ambiance of the woods around them filled the silence that trailed the question. The two sat together to avoid getting smoked out by their source of heat, and being next to each other the boy could see from the flickering light that his question had made his new associate lost in thought. Under the shifting shadows was a face steeped in nostalgia and concern, and after a soft exhale he turned to face the little boy.

    “I was a gladiator. I killed people, and the scars-” he casually gestured to his gnarled torso “-came when they fought back.”

    These words lit up the little boy’s face, to him it was like he was next to an Olympian or some famous athlete, he’d been a fan of gladiators for most of his short life. The cheering, the food, the showmanship and the fun he had in the stands were some of his favorite moments. This reaction produced a conflicted face on the gladiator. He drew in a long breath.

    “You know they didn’t want to die right?”

    Silence had once again reared its head as the young boy’s ignorant fantasy slowly crumbled. He felt guilty for always getting so swept up in each bloody victory, and as his mind flashed through it all he now seemed to discover that under the drowning roar of the audience was the thump of a body, and peeking through the shifting windows of the cheering crowd was a corpse, ever so still.

    “But they expected to. Hell, I thought I would for a while. but that’s what makes it such good entertainment, ya know? Down in the dirt, sword in hand, you never hear the crowd, or the announcer, or nothing. Just the ringing of metal and the rush of your own blood.” The Gladiator shifted on the log the two were sitting on, turning blankly back to the fire.

    “Even that loses its charm after a while, then it just feels like a job.”

    1. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      The Gladiator’s description of being in the fray is so well done. It jolts you back to earth. At first, he describes the fear and intensity of battle. And then the brutal last line perfectly wraps up the desensitization to the bloodshed, the loss of humanity.

      Very well done!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Well, this surprises me. I’m not one to say that surprise is always a good thing, but this time, it was very interesting.

      It seemed to be going in a very specific way, and I was all for it. And then, we arrive at the end and the gladiator is not really concerned about the brutal way of life he had before – he had been desensitized in the past, but that was not even the end of it. He enjoyed the glamour and the thrill of it, even though something in him was able to criticize what was going on. The thing is not the brutality of it all, the thing is that, as part of the spectacle, he couldn’t keep being amazed by said spectacle. The problem is that, at the end of it, it was just like any other job.

      That was brutal. And this particular brutality was built in a very interesting way. Great tale!

    3. “Wanna know how I got these scars?”

      “Yeh!”

      “ROMAN POLITICS!”

      Given that Gladiatorial Combat was used to advertise political runners, keep people distracted from rioting because of high unemployment, get people used to gore so they could be conditioned for conquest, and slaves being forced to fight for their freedom if they were too aggressive; this guy is definitely right to be worried.

      Well I’m glad the Gladiator caught the young boy before he goes into Gladiatorial Combat with stars in his eyes and arrows in his chest.

      What a relief! Now have a like!

    4. This was a cool story. I guess I’m glad he got out before he died? He seems like an okay dude. Or, as okay as a dude who made a living killing for others entertainment can be.

      Honestly this sounds like it could have an interesting plot behind it.

    5. This was really nice. The contrast between the innocent young boy at the beginning and the worn-out gladiator helped show just how much of a toll the fighting took on the latter. Bringing down the kid’s fantasy and talking about how monotonous something as harsh as killing had become made for a very haunting feel.

    6. That was an interesting read, and kind of cute in a melancholy, shattering-your-dreams kind of way. Especially how the the boy reacted to the man telling him what his job was.
      It was also nice to see how those two characters regard it, and that they couldn’t think more differently about gladiators, it makes all of this feel more alive.
      I only wonder how they ended up together at a campfire. Did something bad happen? Do they have to run from something? Or dis they just meet by chance and had to go the same way? But if so, where are the parents?
      Don’t worry though, it doesn’t make your story worse, rather it makes it more engaging, since it feels like there is a lot more to tell.

      Thank you for writing and sharing!

    7. Karl Sterneman Avatar
      Karl Sterneman

      I love that this piece doesn’t even feature any action, and that it doesn’t need to. The focus on the realization that the kid has hooks us deeply into the story, and it’s really well written too. Having the kid and the gladiator juxtaposed to each other in the scene pushes one as a viewer to think on each perspective just a bit more deeply than you usually would. Really well done Boople!

    8. This is such a layered story and I’m here for it. How you were able to introduce how… messed up the whole gladiator thing is when you think about it. It’s just brutal cruelty.

      But what really hit me was the boy’s excitement fading when he was hit with that reality. It’s worryingly easy to dehumanize people. That moment of realization was just really powerful to me.

      And the gladiator’s musings after only made him feel more real. Such a great take on the prompt! Well done!

  22. Roman Rivero Avatar
    Roman Rivero

    An interview with death
    By Roman Rivero

    Damien and his crew watch as the elderly patient draws his final breath and the monitor beeps to a droning sound. He presses his hands onto his face, whispers a chant and upon opening his eyes he sees Death.

    He sees the both of them as they stand by the bedside of the deceased elderly.

    One Death was The Vulture of Blackened Feathers whose body could barely be contained in the room. The other Death was The Masked Child whose face resembled the elderly man in his younger years.

    “Welcome back.” Damien smirked as he readied his notes and tablet. “I hope you’re ready for more questions.”

    “You are barely a speck in my eyes for me to ever hope, living one,” The Vulture grumbled.

    “These questions of yours are beginning to bore you, I assume?” The Child noted.

    Damien paid no mind to them as he was writing every single word from Deaths’ mouths. The rest of the camera crew adjusted their lenses and monitors and typed away with glee as if this was the first time. This was in fact the twelfth time Damien had called for an interview with Death.

    “What? Sorry, I just need to- The whole world needs to know more. All these questions and videos, and the volumes of my books are getting best sellers everywhere. And it’s- it’s all just… remarkable.”

    “Your idea of remarkable is low,” The Vulture growled and approached Damien bringing its talon close to his face and cautioned him, “I no longer find these questions as entertaining as Child has. We care not for your vices or desires. We answer simply because we can. Not to follow human affairs and especially not to follow you.”

    “Heel Vulture,” The Child bellowed calmly. “Let the mortal live his life as he sees fit. Even if it involves us. It won’t be long until these are over.”

    “I- I’m sorry, what was that last line?”

    If The Vulture had teeth it would smile right there. Right in front of the stunned Damien.

    1. *Devilishly HahaHAHAHAHAHAs*

      This was a creative way to talk to death. Allow a supernatural being to channel your child-self to talk to a giant vulture that’s annoyed that you talked to it.

      Weirdly it’s not Death or the old man asking Death questions that catches my interest, it’s the Masked Child. A diety that acts as a connection between the Old Man and Death to communicate is a very unique idea, and I kind of want to see more of it.

      Now have my life…I MEAN MY LIKE!! CRAP!!

    2. Karl Sterneman Avatar
      Karl Sterneman

      First of all, I love the characterizations of death you used. Having the two separate personalities is far more interesting than if we simply had one. Second, the ending twist is awesome. Having the perspective character show such hubris and ego throughout the story and then to rip it away at the end with a single line and emote is great both for a jolting discovery and repercussion for the character. Beautifully done, Roman!

  23. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
    Iosef Paramonov

    Duty
    by Iosef Paramonov

    As the Soldier lay on the ground, there was a fluttering to his side. Faintly, he could see a raven standing there, peeking at him curiously.

    “Checkin’ which part of me is the tastiest?” grinned the Soldier weakly.

    “It’s nothing personal. I have to eat.” said the Raven.

    The Soldier chuckled before coughing up a smattering of blood. He pressed harder on the wound at his side.

    “I s’pose at this point, I shouldn’t be surprised to hear a bird talkin’.” he said.

    The Raven shrugged. It glanced around at the harrowing mess that littered the valley.

    “Why?” it asked, “Why do you kill each other?”

    “Duty.” said the Soldier through ragged breaths.

    The Raven squinted. “Duty?” it said, “What’s that?”

    “In this case,” rasped the Soldier, “Our duty is to protect our country from another country.”

    “What is a country?”

    “Where a group of people live,” said the Soldier, “Has its own leader.”

    “And how do you tell one country from another?”

    “Borders. They’re lines that separate countries.”

    “Lines?” The Raven looked around. “What do these lines look like?”

    A sudden burst of laughter startled the Raven, who hopped back a little way. Through bloodied teeth, the soldier said, “You can’t see ’em. Invisible.”

    “So you’re saying,” said the Raven slowly, “That you’re duty is to… protect invisible lines… that dictate where you live?”

    “Yep. That’s right.”

    The Raven shook its head. It didn’t understand.

    “But why do countries attack each other?” it asked.

    “Because its leader ordered it.”

    “But what for? Do they know how many people will get killed? Are there no other solutions?”

    “Don’t ask me, bird!” yelled the Soldier, causing the Raven to flap backwards in fright, “I just do what they tell me!”

    “Even if it means killing another one of your species?”

    “Yeah, that’s right!” cried the Soldier, tears dripping down his cheeks, “Even if… even if…”

    His sentence broke away in sobs.

    The Sun began to set. Silence filled the field. After a good while, the Raven hopped over near the Soldier’s head. It began to peck at his skull.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Well, I really like that the question is put, but not excessively hammered down. The choice of ending with the Soldier’s death and the Raven stop messing up with human nonsense and go back to what really matters – one has to eat! – is a more subtle and interesting argument than I think any further musing could be. Most wars are pointless, powerless people killing powerless people due to the decisions of the powerful (and, most often than not, power-hungry); but a Raven (and a Soldier)… they have to eat.

      I guess ours is the only species that makes that simple necessity such an artificially difficult goal to meet.

      Nice tone for the tale. I like how the characters embody their roles, and how the dialogue is kind of a build up on the absurdity of the mundane. Really nice story.

    2. Roman Rivero Avatar
      Roman Rivero

      I love the deconstruction of war, makes for good perspective on how utterly meaningless it is. I appreciate the raven being the stand in to ask the questions and the soldier just weeping after realizing how pointless it was. The only thing the soldier served was food for the raven.

      The dialogue was good, but I wish there was there was more things to imagine like more detail on the field that the soldier is dying on.

      But overall, this was really good.

    3. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      The simplest way to deconstruct an idea is to try to view it through the eyes of someone or something which is unfamiliar with said idea. I like the sort of “trying to describe how to tie a shoe without a shoe to picture” feel that the conversation has and the sort of neutral setting that could almost take place anywhere that gives this story a fairytale/folktale vibe. Whether the bird is actually talking or not, I enjoy scenes of characters talking with themselves through various internal images like Jack Sparrow talking with himself in At World’s End or Dwight McCarthy talking to the corpse in Sin City. There’s so much room for both introspection and bizarre situations. Overall, I really liked this story.

    4. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      Very nice. I love the idea of the raven simply trying to understand why humans kill one another, and the impossibility of explaining it. . . Because it defies explanation.

      I think it might be humanity’s greatest tragedy, that we’re entirely capable of understanding how absurd and pointless war is, yet simultaneously we’re seemingly incapable of avoiding it.

      It’s both unnecessary, and inevitable.

    5. Well… sure… most things people do are stupid if you boil it down to logic! Seriously though, this is such a powerful story. We know how pointless and brutal war is, but having the concepts of its building blocks broken down this way just makes it hit even harder.

      What I love the most though is we genuinely don’t know if the soldier could understand the Raven in his last minutes or if it was all his brain coming to terms with how pointless all the death has become. Either works.

      All in all, an excellent take on the prompt!

    6. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      This is a really neat story, Iosef! I like the sort of dark fairytale-esque vibes to it. A Raven talking to a dying soldier about war is a powerful and very creative story premise!

      I like the way that you make the familiar unfamiliar through the perspective of the Raven. That war might seem normal to us, but when we see it through the Raven’s eyes, we see how strange and terrible it truly is. It really makes you think and creates a transcendent story.

      The progression is also really cool. It goes from “Oh, haha, yeah, duty *would* seem odd to a raven wouldn’t it?” down to “*Oh*…we really *do* kill each other over invisible lines because we were ordered to…”

      The invisible lines part I feel is particularly powerful in showing the terrible pointlessness of it.

      The “another one of your species” is also an interesting distinction. It makes you think about how animals act towards others of their species, and how we’re all just…people at the end of the day.

      As for critiques, all of these could be personal preference, but I will share them anyways:

      The soldier yelling “Don’t ask me, bird!” seems a little incongruous with the soldier’s previous tone. If it was intentional that could work, because he is dying, and would understandably be snippy… but it did stick out to me.

      Personally I think leaving the line at something like “That your duty is to… protect invisible lines? ” or better yet “to…protect lines that don’t even exist?” or saving the line till later on, and saying “That your duty is to…protect invisible lines, because your leader said so?” would be more poignant. The point of the raven’s statement is that they’re invisible and not worth fighting over, not about where people live.

      The Raven pecking at the Soldier’s skull was…a bit morbid for me. Now I recognize that it had a point–and was likely intended to be morbid. I do like that it mirrors the start of their conversation, and it makes a point that death comes for us all, and we’re just… food in the end. But the raven eating his literal brains after that nice conversation…makes me leave this fascinating story with a sour taste in my mouth.

      Great job!!

  24. Business is No Longer Boomin’

    By Thunder

    Bolt knew it was going to be a bad day when Director Lar shoved the door open hard enough for it to bounce off the wall. He stormed past Bolt, around to his side of the desk and falling into the big chair. His face was locked in an emotionless mask, but the elevated heartbeat and temperature spoke volumes, as did his complete lack of reaction when Bolt cautiously placed one of the Director’s old space station models back on the desk. Lars dropped the hardcopy sheaf he was carrying and leaned back, mask cracking slightly as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

    “How bad?” Bolt inquired.

    “See for yourself,” Lar growled, pushing away from the desk so he could pull a migraine relief pill from a drawer.

    Bolt carefully picked up the paper with his metal arm. “Director Sing Lar,” he read. “The Board regrets to inform you that, due to the cessation of hostilities between the Alliance and the Swarm, the SpiralCorp Weapons Development branch is-”

    Bolt stopped, raising his one remaining eyebrow incredulously. “-is to be shut down, fully, by the end of the next fiscal year so the company can return to its charter of peaceful exploration of science and the galaxy for the betterment of-”

    He didn’t get any further before an errant impulse crushed the sheet beyond hope of recovery. “Bullshit!”

    “Unfortunately not,” Lar answered dryly. He leaned back, staring at the SpiralCorp logo on the ceiling as Bolt stood and began to pace. The cyborg’s uneven, clomping gait only served to aggravate him further.

    “We don’t need them!” Bolt insisted. “We still have the plans, we can jump ship-”

    Lar cut him off. “To where? Everyone’s disarming; Space Directive is mothballing all but a few patrol frigates, the Arcturus Syndicate downsized their own R&D to practically nothing, and the Martians-” He snorted.

    “Unless… Director, do you remember how we met?” Bolt asked hesitantly.

    Lar looked at him sharply, and he continued. “I may have kept some associates from those days… people who would pay handsomely for our services.”

    1. Roman Rivero Avatar
      Roman Rivero

      This sounds interesting. I feel the scene really sets up as a trigger incident for what is to come. This feels like an interesting story as these two characters are in it for the name of greed and are trying to sell weapons. Just forgetting the fact that peace has been reached, and these characters depending on how a story would go would be intriguing in seeing what exactly their moral compass is.

      Overall, this was a good read, keep it up.

      Also there are a couple of spelling errors on Lar or Lars through out the story.

      1. Whoops, thanks for catching that.
        And double thank you for the review!

  25. J. J. Peterson Avatar
    J. J. Peterson

    Business with Death
    J. J. Peterson

    “You may enter.”

    The doors fell silently closed behind me as Death motioned for me to take a seat opposite him at a table that stretched across the whole length of the room.

    As I sat down Death pushed back from the table and spun around on his chair, hands behind his head, and asked, “What can I do for you today, dear Life.”

    Leaning forward onto the table, I answered, “I noticed a new soul in your waiting room. By the name of Kenneth Johnsohn. He’s not ready to go yet.”

    “He’s not ready to go yet,” Death mimicked. “Well too bad, everyone passes through my hands eventually.”

    “Yes, and I thank you for that. But Kenneth is still needed on earth. I have plans for him, he still will change much in the short span of his life.”

    “Another soul who will make a few lonely kids happy by buying them an ice cream cone?”

    “Mock me all you want,” I defended, “But it is those few happy moments that shape a childhood to become the bright backstory to a wonderful life that will send waves of goodness through all those it touches.”

    As usually happened at these points, Death started to get uptight and ornery, “You can’t make me, everyone must come to me.”

    “I know, but for Kenneth you will have to wait a bit longer. And actually I can make you. Here is the form authorising the stay of Kenneth Johnsohn on earth until circumstances dictate otherwise, please sign.”

    “I won’t.” Death actually stuck out his lower lip.

    I stood up so I was looking down on him, and ordered, “Death, I command you to sign the paper and release this soul back into my jurisdiction.”

    “Fine.” He grabbed a pen and hurriedly signed his name on the line, “But don’t think I’ll keep letting you get away with this, Life.”

    “Only the ones who are still needed,” I said, grabbing the form and leaving the room. I had other business to attend to now.

    1. Sniperaxiom Avatar
      Sniperaxiom

      I like how death is being a twerp. The character interaction here is fun, I like the idea that this is how the two’s interactions usually go. The story is fitting for the prompt, I like how you made the whole ordeal of life and death a structured affair too.

      Anyways, Great job!

    2. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      Very interesting representation of Life and Death. I love how you write it that this is the normal way these two interact – like to two workers squabbling in an office.

      You write as though Life intimidated Death into signing the paper. I would like to know what leverage Life has over Death that they can order Death to sign the paper. That would be a great way to expand on the piece.

    3. Death Aint Avatar
      Death Aint

      I liked this because this is the first thing I recently read interpreting Life and Death as a balance of power, even without much explanation. Maybe ‘he has work to do’ is all the reason Death needed to agree, there’s no reason to force something that’s assured to him in due time.

    4. This is such a fun idea. I tend to see the occasional representation of Death here and there, including in my own extended universe, but I don’t often see Life. And having the two of them have such a familiar relationship is really cool to see.

      I also really loved Life’s reasoning for sparing that soul. The idea of kindness begetting more kindness is such a wholesome thing and I’m all here for it.

      As it’s been mentioned in other comments, I do wish there had been just a bit more to explain why Life was able to intimidate Death like that. It makes you curious because if it’s that simple, why did Death even bother fighting it in the first place? But that takes nothing away from the story itself.

      Excellent take on the prompt!

  26. Faustini Avatar

    God wills it
    By Spawn of Faust

    Another poor soul reached my doorstep. Bound and gagged, his skin covered with bruises from rough handling.

    “And this one did what?” I asked the man’s handler.

    “You don’t ask questions and we pay.” Shadowy figure answered, slipping a sack of coins into my yet to be greased palm.

    I hefted the sack in my hand – slightly heavier than usual.

    “If you say so.” I shrugged and let the man into my abode, letting the figure to slip into the shadows.

    I lost a few coins in my pocket. Not too many to raise suspicion but enough to get myself a mug of ale, after the whole ordeal was over.

    Knock. Knock.

    “Father Ahne.” I announced my presence to the foul priest.

    “Ah. Mister Mori. What brings you to my door today?”

    My thumb pointed behind my back towards the already doomed soul.

    Sack of gold made a loud thump as it hit the table, spilling coins all over the desk.

    “So I guess no questions asked.”

    My solemn nod was the only answer that the priest could hope for.

    In the middle of the square stood a wooden platform with a solid wood block. In front of the platform stood a small crowd of townspeople, expecting little distraction from neverending monotony of their life.

    And there we stood. Father Ahne, Damned soul and me with black garb over my head. Coin was burning me in the pocket. Waiting to be spend.

    Priest was muttering the death sentence, increasing the cadence of his voice and speaking louder and louder – until the moment that he reached the last sentence.

    “Deus lo vult!”

  27. The Merchant (Frontier Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    If Talia didn’t know better, she would have said that the man in front of her was just some regular merchant. A merchant he was, yes, but not one she usually tolerated in the harbour of Keene. She remembered seeing his airship multiple times, searching it almost every time, but never finding enough evidence for an arrest.

    Reynard was cunning.

    And to think that her one chance to finally arrest him, would be hindered by Locke. All for his pathetic deal and pathetic plans.

    She hated the fact that she was forced to make a deal with Reynard, the man who smuggled weapons to the Frontier’s most notorious criminal elements.

    She approached him, her expression making it clear that he was not wanted. Reynard gave her that smile she detested so much.

    “Talia,” he grinned. “Back for another tour of my ship?”

    “Save it,” she snarled. “I’m here to make you an offer.”

    “Now that intrigues me. Officer Talia herself wants to make a deal. Weren’t you the one who called me an undertaker with extra steps?”

    “The offer isn’t mine. It’s Locke’s.”

    At this, Reynard perked. He didn’t say anything, but his expression said everything.

    “I want weapons,” she forced out.

    She didn’t have a problem with weapons per se, only with the people using them.

    “In exchange,” she continued. “You will not be bothered by the authorities. I will see to that, personally.”

    If Talia could have swallowed acid instead of saying that, she would have.

    “I will hold you to that,” Reynard said, his smile widening. “I must say, I didn’t expect you to be the one too…”

    “Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” Talia snarled. “You will deliver your weapons to me or my contact, but part of the deal is that you will no longer sell to the Spear-Carriers, the underground or anyone with a criminal history. Only me or Locke. If you break that promise, I will throw you off the edge of this floating island myself. You’re not the only one who can deal in death.”

    1. Ah, deals with the devil for the greater good. A tale as old as time. Lol in all seriousness, this is a great story. Simple and to the point. You make it very clear how much Talia hates making this deal and how much Reynard enjoys being in this situation.

      You give the reader a really good feel for everyone’s personal and what drives them. The only real question I had was answered at the end with how Talia could deal with someone like Reynard if she had such a problem with him. And part of the deal being that he can only sell weapons to them makes sense. I feel he’ll probably weasel his way into a loophole or something but that sort of thing makes it all the more interesting. Great take on the prompt!

  28. Souls and Money.

    by Galer.

    He fixed his hair, and put his damaged coat in place, he looked at his shoes, and dusted his pants, the left leg of them completely ripped up.

    He scratched his damaged nose that received a punch from a specter he was hunting down.

    Fernando didn’t think this day would end up like that, however while he did understand why some human souls would rematerialize to try to finish their business in the living world.

    That being said that didn’t give them the right to possess innocent people

    Freaking specters

    He entered the building in which one of his fellow psychopomps, saw him and winced.

    “By Hel what hells happened to you?” said the female reaper werewolf in from of him “you look like you have gone through a blender”

    Fernando with a noticeable lack of tack raised a cage with a light inside that jumped in all corners of the cell trying to escape, the light also screamed with the wail of the dammed.

    “This is what happened Diana” he replied grumpily ” turns out some souls can be quite stubborn went they want to”

    “….It was your first day hunting down specter is it?” she asked

    “Yes, it was, and he almost turned me into a ghost!” Fernando said sarcastically, ” He broke my nose the bastard!”

    The spirit rattled in his cage offended by that remark

    “Hey at least you will get a raise out of this, I hear they paid a lot for capturing rampaging souls like those” encouraged Diana with a smile.

    But for Fernando that wasn’t particularly amusing

    “Maybe because of how dangerous the job is! if it wasn’t for my shortage of money I would have quitted!” the reaper said “God dammit! I hope the salary is worth the pain!”

    He already was yearning for those times in which it was only guiding a Soul, then money.

    After all, in the past, he didn’t need to fight Gasper the punchy possession happy murder ghost.

    1. Neat story. Fun concept. I noticed some mistakes though, such as “the right to possess people’s innocent people”. Might want to look over it again to make sure it reads the way you want.

      Honestly reads like a cross between Bloodborne and The Real Ghostbusters. Fun stuff.

      1. thanks Mako

  29. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    Stillness
    by Aracnarquista

    The city is still. I can’t help, but remember the words: “We are surrounded by stillness, still, we must keep busy; in fact, it is because we are surrounded by stillness that we should keep busy”. My father told me that, time and time again, while he lectured me in our craft. He told me, time and time again, that his father had said the same while he was his apprentice.

    One day, I’ll say the same words while I work with my son or daughter, and teach them the craft.

    The craft of tending to the dead, of preparing corpses for their final deposition. The craft of the undertaker, the craft of the gravedigger.

    We toil with stillness, since the ones we tend to are the dead. We keep ourselves busy, while surrounded by the stillness of death.

    We must keep ourselves busy. That’s what differentiate us from our clients.

    The city is still. My busy feet brought me here, to this dead place. I walk the silent streets, observed by none but the empty windows and broken doors. A dry smell raises from the dust: the smell of time passed and abandonment, and triggers a memory. A memory from when I last walked this street, by my father’s side. The road to the cemetery.

    In that time, long ago, we were accompanied by different men – some alive, two of them dead. Some almost dead, but it would be years still until the realization caught to them. The two who hadn’t realized, but were recognized by all as dead, were our clients. It was the last two I helped put on the ground with my father, before leaving to be the undertaker of another city.

    And now, I’m here, shovel in hand, walking to that very same cemetery. All the dead here are on the ground, and still, I’m ready to dig graves again. Father took his secrets to the grave: father took his secrets to the place he taught me all about.

    Among those that lie still, I find his resting place.

    Hi, father.

    Digging is busy work.

    1. Death Aint Avatar
      Death Aint

      It has a nice cyclical style like you know the story will be told again. The basis of the story being teaching takes my interest.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Seems like I got the idea of keeping things cyclical in different ways since the last prompt. I had the idea of writing a short story about a gravedigger who returned to a dead city to dig graves open again, and that small bit about it being the family’s business to deal with death had marked that unwritten page for too long. It was great to put the story to word, finally – and, well, I guess teaching, learning and dying are the only things one can be certain of.

        Thanks for the comment!

    2. contract Avatar

      I really love what you did here. We have a simple setting and activity that can be easily recognized.

      I also like how your story has this sense of mystery on why those words are used to describe the work specifically and how long has that been a tradition. It looks like a great start for a dark story on death.

      While I guess that it’s the point, I think you repeated “still” a bit too much, but that’s just a minor nitpick.

      Good job !

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Yeah, I agree with that point. I had the idea of hammering down that point, but after reading it now with the distance from the moment of writting, I agree that it was overdone.

        The mystery grew through the writing. The story I had initially in my head was a lot more clear-cut, but some more ambiguous elements kept popping-up while I wrote, so I decided to lean on it. I just love when the act of writing takes a life of its own – and then, I let this life of its own run free in its way of narrating dealings with death.

        Thanks for the comment!

    3. I like the way the term ‘stillness’ applies to the dead, as well as the concept of death and its inevitability.

      It reminded me of stagnant water. If it doesn’t move it gets dirty, and any living thing in it will eventually suffocate due to lack of oxygen.

      To live is to fear staying still forever. That’s why we distract ourselves from the idea of never moving again, or our consciousness never continuing beyond our bodies after they die. The cold chill of the skin no longer warmed by a beating heart, as if being frozen in place was the destination the whole time.

      And the cycle continues through the next generation.

      What a joyful time! Here’s a LIKE cuz I LIKE what you made.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot! I really liked the whole aspect of stillness representing death and the idea of being busy (and the whole aspect of business there) as the thing that would present the concept of life through the piece. Constrasts is something I really like to play with, and this time it was nice to do that while at the same time letting a story that was waiting its time to be told to reach to the front of the line and appear.

        And isn’t life and death the topic, most often than not?

    4. Cheezesammich Avatar
      Cheezesammich

      I like the continuous flow you have moving throughout the story, it unifies it and makes it feel poetic. It also lends itself towards the cyclical nature of the story – death is inevitable, so there will always be an undertaker to narrate this tale.
      The only other [minor] thing I would say is to watch out for comma over usage [I can’t help[,] but remember the words]. Solid and engaging piece regardless!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot. Yup, that one flew me over and I didn’t catch it.
        And yeah, the whole thing about death being inevitable is something that tends to creep in this stories – though here I also liked to show it as ever-present and kind of a constant companion of life itself.

        And it seems like cycles and the cyclical nature of stories/life-and-death/seasons are becoming a kind of recurring motif in some of my tales. Curious thing.

    5. Another very intriguing story. There is a lot of repetition in certain words; but it’s obvious that it’s supposed to be this way. It makes your story feel more monotonous, which fits perfectly with the picture of someone digging and tending to the dead as a job.
      It also has a very melancholic feeling to it, which is probably why it makes me think. It’s actually quite weird, that it’s mostly the jobs no one wants to think about (or do, for that matter), that we need the most, no? Like undertakers, or cleaners, or trash collectors.

      The line I liked the most was this:
      “Some almost dead, but it would be years still until the realization caught to them.”
      It’s an awesome nod to the fact that everyone has to die eventually.

      So, once more, thank you for writing and sharing your story!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        I was about to make the word dig a repeating element, and follow it with the imagery of the shovel entering the earth… then I noticed two things. First was that it would be really difficult to convey the sense of stillness through the act of digging, so the walk through a dead (ghost) city would be better suited. The other thing was that it would be way, way to similar to one Magnus Archives episode (named, unsurprisingly, DIG). So, stillness and busy would be my recurring words to keep the sense of repetition that should invite the act of digging to mind – and I’m incredibly happy that it worked!

        I also really like that line in particular. It is as if death is always present, growing in oneself, and then one day we are caught off with it all. And, well, some of these peoples might be just living in the more limited sense of the word – they are not dead, but are they really alive?

        And thank you for commenting and making the dead words alive again through your reading – that most amazing kind of mundane and magical necromancy we do as if it were the most common thing in the world!

    6. I had no real connection to the character, but a connection to the environment the character is in, which gives me a little understanding of the character. There was nothing too complex in the central idea of this reading (generations of grave keepers), but the imagery provided had good texture/structure and brought to life this dull, boring world of a grave keeper.

      7/10!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks for the reading and the feedback. Well, that’s certainly a possible reading, though I’d say there is a bit more going on than just the generations of grave diggers succeeding one another – after all, the one narrating the story is coming to exhume a body – or desecrate a grave, or whatever – in a place where there is no one left alive. Not much more, and not much said. Anyway, glad to know you liked the imagery – this one was a little more crude and repetitive than what I usually go for, but it seemed like the right tone for it.

  30. Death Aint Avatar
    Death Aint

    All you do is try to find me.

    I walk through a library full of the quiet people. I actually wouldn’t mind talking, but rules, are rules. When I’ve left they are silent. Their stories are that much closer to ending.

    There’s a rowdy party across the street, next door, or over my back fence. I’m trying to sleep. I quietly ask them, and I leave them alone. They may have even gotten louder. They’ll never party like they did before.

    I am the most powerful narcotic.

    Amazing.

    Parenting, depression, generosity, work, giving up, stalwart ideals, or the corruption of anything? Wrong, because I tell you, you’re right.

    You fight so hard to be right, so you don’t want to be told you’re right? What? Why?

    There’s a time and a place, to be irrational, a game.

    It can stop. I can stop it. Here is a plan.

    Just because I saw it, you’re telling me. It doesn’t happen unless I saw it. Because you say so. You say it’s because you showed it to me.

    All your life you run to me, so I show you the door. You run to me faster to show me that I am a door, I’m a window, I’m a mirror.

    Would it be trouble to speak to a stranger civilly? After you finish a long chat you will be assured my presence is an absolute validation. There’s no wanting for more. You’ll be comforted, having me near. And because of that, you wish you were with me always. You’ll feel a loss, forever.

    After all, it was all your life until now, you’re trying to find me. That’s all it was, that’s all it will ever be to most people.

    Have my horse. It wants to guide you, slowly.

    My horse requires water and fresh fruits. You can understand. Oranges, a watermelon, tomatoes, some hay, plenty of water. You can feed my horse at the very least. Won’t you? If not, you’ll be running to me.

    You gallop to me!

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This was a very strange trip, but a very touching one. I choose to read it allegorical, but I think there are many possible reading to it (and, well, even many possible allegorical readings of it). The change in imagery and focus makes me wonder if we are cruising at high speed through the totality of a life, or if we are getting glimpses of multiple life-moments, or even if we are immersed into an experience of drunk revelry (perhaps, the last one).

      Very gripping narrative, even if I’m not sure how to read it (and after a second reading, I found yet some different and coherent ways to read it).

      Some small nitpicks, though. There are some strange punctuation at times. Considering the style, I’d say some might even be intentional, but some just doesn’t seem to work. The ones I found particularly flow-breaking were the commas in “but rules[,] are rules” and the one in “There’s a time and a place[,] to be irrational, a game” (though this second one is not as strange and the first).

      Anyway, very trippy tale, and a nice trip it was.

      1. Death Aint Avatar
        Death Aint

        Based on true events.

    2. This sounds a lot like a drug tapping into the worst parts of a person, especially their ego since there’s so much reference to ‘being right’. And the constant mentioning of ‘running back’ to the drug seems like a reference to interactions with real people that turn into a disagreement, so they go back to the drug that tells them they’re right.

      This drug that’s portrayed as a toxic personality that validates you while putting blinders on you, ironically like you’re a horse, until you’re fully under their control.

      Woof! What a trip! Here have a LIKE.

    3. Purge, Bearer of Wrath Avatar
      Purge, Bearer of Wrath

      This felt to me like a soliloquy of the higher self, reaching out to the lower self. It comes through as potent and dreamlike. The last line is especially beautiful and has a kind of poetry of command to it.

      I was a little confused with the “If not”, in: If not, you’ll be running to me. This seems to suggest that _not_ feeding the horse is how you allow it to run? Which, I feel, kind of undermines that last line. But, I dunno – maybe that was what you were going for?

      1. Death Aint Avatar
        Death Aint

        That last line was asserting that the horse should help slow someone down, they were already running. If they decide not to feed the horse they would resume running.
        Somehow, in a twist of irony they get on the horse and gallop. Like the instructions weren’t clear, the horse was for feeding.

        1. Purge, Bearer of Wrath Avatar
          Purge, Bearer of Wrath

          Ah, cool, it’s subtle

  31. T.C.Holmes Avatar
    T.C.Holmes

    Katrina’s worst day on the job
    By T. C. Holmes

    “It was a tragedy”, Katrina said as she wheeled in the second body for the detectives to examine,” According to what I was told these two were friends who met up at a coffee shop every week. Till some madman showed up with a gun and shot the place up.”

    She stopped, took a step back from the sheet covered bodies, grabbed a box of latex gloves and handed them to the short, bald, dark skinned man who introduced himself as detective Atlas, and she leaned back up against the opposite wall of the morgue. The man and his pale, black haired companion both donned gloves and went to lift the sheets enough to see the faces of the corpses, after a moment of examining them, they both turned to each other and gave an affirmatory nod.

    The next few events played out very swiftly in Katrina’s head, the black haired woman pulls her pistol from her holster and says in a thick Irish accent,” Sorry love these 2 are coming with us”, and before Katrina could respond in any way she had a burning agony in her gut forcing her to fall against the wall and slide down. As she looked up at the two “detectives”, were talking to each other one of them saying to wheel the car around. Then she saw one of the corpses sit up, the dead woman with the extremely long red hair, and grab the dark haired woman from behind, shark like fangs where her teeth should have been sinking into the living woman’s throat. That was the last thing Katrina could remember before she passed out and woke up 3 days later in the hospital, apparently someone had called the police, and killed the false detectives by ripping their throats out.

  32. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Cloning’s my Business and business is good

    By Tamela Redfin

    Thanks to Reagan’s Iscariot kiss, I had work to do. I went to my reserves of clone bodies. If only Gilbert stayed as well as Corlita. I would love to have my little murder bots now. But alas, you can’t have everything.

    But there was one thing I could do, I realized. Thanks to Cora’s affair, Violet was born. While I hated the little bundle of…. Whatever it was. But, her hands held a special secretion: poison sweat.

    If I could program that into the clones’ DNA, I’d be set for life. Or should I say, set them for death? If not, I could use the DNA of Glenn, my radioactive child, assuming it wouldn’t disintegrate.

    At night, I saw my chance. Violet was alone, or so I thought, I took off her tiny gloves.

    “What are you doing, Uncle Augen?”

    I gasped and saw a pale skinned gi… was that Nora? Helen’s and my daughter?

    “Uncle Augen needs help, child.” I grin. “It’s for science.”

    “Science? I love science!” Nora shouted.

    “Shh, not so loud. Come to my laboratory, after I get the sample.

    She agreed and we went down. There was Glenn, and I already felt sick from the radiation poison. Nora didn’t seem affected. Odd.

    She waved and I got to work. How would it work? After long hours, I found the clone I tested on could shoot a web of poison. Or was it venom?

    “Nice to see you here, Nora.” Glenn nodded. “It gets so lonely…”

    “Less talking, Glenn! You’re distracting her.” I shouted.

    “I think we got it.” Nora smiled. “Look at this clone. His arm isn’t falling off.”

    “Good, GOOD.”

    Nora balanced a spanner in her hand, “So, why do we need them to shoot poison?”

    “To take down the cyphas and that damned Grey Rose, sweetie!”

    Her eyes widened, as if she realized she had done something horribly wrong.

    1. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      This story was well written, and consequently enjoyable to read. It did feel as though I was missing something though. I have never heard of Reagan’s Iscariot kiss, Gilbert or Corlita, cyphas, or the Gray Rose. I understand this might be part of a bigger story you are making, and if so, that’s great! But these unknowns do take away from my understanding of the story. Overall, good work!

    2. Nora seems to be quite to prodigy.

      Still unclear on what exactly the living situation is. Felt vaguely like Augen was creeping out of the basement like the Phantom of The Opera or something.

      I do like Nora. Definite vibes of “Working on a cool project with Uncle” before the “Oh…I’m an accomplice to murder” shoe dropped.

  33. Take The Hint, Bro
    By Marx

    A long sigh hissed through the void. “Hello Duncan…”

    Duncan smiled wildly at the voice, oblivious to its irritation. “You know my name!”

    “All who live will one day meet me. I know everyone’s name.”

    “May I see you, my mistress?”

    “I am not your mistress,” said Death, appearing before him. “Take my hand.”

    Duncan began to but paused, instinctively knowing what it would mean. “You’re as beautiful as I always knew you’d be. A radiant goddess of perfection. Can’t I… stay here with you?”

    “I care not what you think of my appearance. I am not a deity. You cannot stay here. Take my hand.”

    “Please, my mistress! I will die for you, but I just-… I love you so much! I just want to be with you! Didn’t you like my gifts?”

    Death’s eyes narrowed. “Contrary to what you believe, I do not see murder as a gift. Nor do I see attempts to kill yourself as… intimacy. I see you as a disturbed mortal. Nothing more.”

    Duncan’s eyes narrowed back. “I asked you if this was what you wanted! You told me! You told me to prove my love for you and we’d be together!”

    Death sighed once more. “I said no such thing. That was your psychosis. Your way of justifying your own ideals and perversions, while using me as an excuse.”

    “No! That’s not true!”

    “Take my hand, Duncan.”

    “Not yet! Let me prove myself to you! I’ll do whatever you want!”

    “Excellent. Take my hand.”

    Duncan grit his teeth as his hands balled into fists. “Why are you being like this?! Why won’t you give us a chance?”

    “Because there is no us. There is you. There is me. And there is my purpose. I have a fated mate. And he is not you.” Before he could protest further, Death forcibly took Duncan’s hand into hers and he was gone.

    Death sat in the quiet and scowled. She hated mortals like that. They only succeeded in making her feel lonely.

    “I patiently await your arrival, my horseman.” Death mused before returning to her duties.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Nice piece. But I don’t know if I’d date Death. She seems cool, but not quite my type.

      1. Thank you! I’m glad you liked it. Lol and yeah, Death is something of an acquired taste so that’s fair.

    2. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      I like how you personified death. The character of a beautiful, but lonely goddess awaiting her lover was unique and worked well in your story. Duncan I found hard to relate to, mostly because I have fallen in love with Death and I am not psychotic, but I did sympathize with Death herself. I wonder if your title could be more in character with the rest of the story. Good job! This was an enjoyable read.

      1. I do have this tendency of having more jovial/meme titles, that sometimes fit the tone of the story and are sometimes in contrast. I hope it wasn’t too distracting lol.

        I’m glad you liked Death. She is a pretty fun character to write, especially in situations like this where she’s slightly out of her comfort zone and can show more emotions.

        Thank you so much for the review!

    3. I really like the characters here. The way you portrayed Duncan’s mania with Death was really spot on and the references to his “gifts” for her make him a really scary villain. It reminds me a bit of Black Hand from DC, if you’re familiar.

      Death was also portrayed really well here. She rebuffs Duncan’s advances for obvious reasons (the man is a murderer), but I also like how you made Death feel so lonely. I can imagine she is, if she is immortal and can only garner the affection of mortals.

      Great story!

      1. This is true, actually lol. Duncan is a little Black Hand-ish. And that level of crazy is what I was going for so I’m really happy it came across that way.

        And I did also want Death to come across as both super powerful but also tragic in her loneliness, so awesome that that translated as well.

        Thank you so much for the review!

    4. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      I love stories that don’t portray Death as some monster to be feared. Nor is she a deity – she just has a job to do and cannot waste time with psychotic mortals. One could expand Death’s rebuke of Duncan to the most fanatic followers of many world religions. A really well-written piece that gives a great perspective on what it means to honor Death.

      1. Lol I’ll fully admit that I did design Duncan to be a cross between a religious fanatic and just someone who, as the title says, cannot get the hint and doesn’t accept no for an answer.

        And thank you so much! I do try to keep Death as layered of a character as I can allow in 350 word stories. I’m glad you liked it.

    5. This is a wonderful little story. I like how the character of Duncan was handled, being a nut case who wanted to flirt with death as literally as possible, death being so completely uninterested is a great counter. This is probably just me but I feel like the inclusion of Death actually waiting for someone is a bit distracting, like yes it’s smart to not have the ending just be Duncan getting dusted, but revealing that she is in fact lonely feels a little hollow to me, Idk man.

      1. You actually do make a good point with that. It’s one of those things that gets you when you’re working within an extended universe. In the terms of the larger narrative, Death’s eventual mate is an important part of the story, and Death’s part in that story. So it is meant to be a bit of a tease of sorts.

    6. Aww. Poor bastard. Tricked by his own delusions only to meet the actual thing that he thought he was talking to, worshiping, only to be told he was, in fact, a wackjob, she wanted nothing to do with him, and she already had a boyfriend.

      And poor Death. Reminded she just has to sit and wait in the darkness between realms.


      Ya know, she’s an actual being according to your lore. Just like Matt. So, why is she stuck there? Did somebody put her there? But she can appear outside of it? At least to Matt?

      “Slut Era” Death whispered as she manifested in the bedroom of the young couple…who promptly died. “Not again.” Death lamented.

      1. Lol it is a bit unfortunate for Duncan as well. It was a lot to drop on the guy. But on the other side, he did clearly do a lot of really unforgivable things to balance that reaction out.

        Now what is especially interesting is that it never occurred to me that it looked like Death was trapped in that void. But she’s actually free to go wherever she wants. It’s a ‘she can be multiple places at the same time’ kind of deal, but it’s just that she is also always technically in the void because the void IS her.

        Lol Slut Era Death is a most tragic being indeed.

  34. Skeleton Avatar

    Blood Money (The Will)
    By Skeleton

    “Twenty-three men gone, along with seven horses. Thirteen injuries, three serious. No provisions recoverable, so that’s two-weeks worth of food and water needed. Eight items of equipment destroyed: five crossbows, two spears, and one sword. Expenses are looking like…” Ericka strained to herself to the thumping of an angry dragoness nearby, “…maybe a thousand, two-hundred and sixty five Crowns—nix a hundred and fifty if Eymir can replace the equipment himself.”

    “I feel… so fucking stupid!” Zaila cursed in a rage, kicking a scrap piece of charred house and adding to the ashen cloud that hung in the air. “My own countrymen…! I can’t believe they’d do something like this!”

    “You’d be surprised what someone will do for money if they really need it,” Ericka added calmly over the smouldering of what remained of the people who lived there. “In fact, they probably didn’t want to do this as much as the villagers.”

    “They could have stopped at any time!” Zaila cried, shamed by her own country. “At any time, they could have chosen to be good!”

    “And let their families starve due to their moral compass?” Ericka reasoned as the numbers came back into her mind. However, the sniffling of the young dragoness would never let her finish her job in peace. “They chose this,” she comforted. “Be free of their choice. A killer for money is nothing to lose sleep over.”

    Zaila didn’t respond, but her sniffling did lessen a little. The wulack commander sighed and stood, placing her paw on the warrior-in-training’s shoulder. “It’s the people who kill without the promise of coin that you should weep over,” Ericka explained, her expression souring a little as the old her resurfaced in her memory. “They burn passion to fire their blade—a dangerous thing.”

    After a moment of contemplation, Zaila nodded in understanding, her tears lessening to stains on her cheek. “Speaking of which,” Ericka continued enthusiastically. “Did Eymir mention how many of the enemy are dead?”

    “…around three hundred.”

    “At eight Crowns a head, that’s…” Ericka let out a breath of relief. “We’re in the green.”

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, I like the parallelism here. These people kill for coin, and so we are payed to kill them. What does that make us? The change from grief and anger to, well, finances (which is, in fact, a back-and-forth between them both) is a nice way to conjugate death and coin, and it adds a lot to the banality of killing.

      There is a sentence that I really liked the wording (as in I find it aesthetically pleasing), but I don’t really think I understood: they burn passion to fire their blade. I guess it is presenting the idea that those that kill just for the “joy” of killing, those who are passionate killers, are the ones one should fear. Though I am very confused as how to interpret it.

      Well, great tale, and I will say again – great parallelism between those who kill for profit, and those who kill for profit. Really nice presentation!

    2. This whole story flowed really well, like it was so easy to read through most of it, the realistic morals and philosophy sprinkled into this fantastical scenario of, from what I can tell, a dragon queen lamenting over her countries moral greyness was wonderfully appealing.

      and just a little side note, even though Eymir did nothing and was just mentioned, the flow of conversation and their name drop didn’t feel forced at all.

    3. Purge, Bearer of Wrath Avatar
      Purge, Bearer of Wrath

      This scene opens out really well. You feel present as you read it, as though you are alongside the small troupe in the destroyed village or farmstead. You feel the frustration of Zaila and the ennui of Ericka. I’m getting a tension between “Why are we doing this?” and “Why do we have to do this?” which is interesting. It creates the sense of a desperate land. And the small comfort of – is it like 200 crowns or something they are up? Holy crap! Well, you take what you can get, I suppose…

  35. contract Avatar

    NecroPetShop
    by contract

    “Welcome to Zach’s Pet Shop, where yesterday’s pet is today’s puppet !”

    Sometimes I hate my brother’s sense of humor.
    But I promised I would visit his new business. I guess I should have seen it coming…

    I opened the rusty metal door, which has obviously never been cleaned.

    “Welcome dear customer ! We are not open today, but you can come back tomorrow ! And remember, bringing your own dead pet gives you a 15% reduction !”

    I immediately recognised the usual over the top voice my brother takes when trying to sell his…products.

    “It’s me. I was in town, so I decided to see how you were-”

    “Brother ! Been a while, since I saw you ! Last time, it was when I did this wonderful sale of old haunted shoes ! About…3 years ago ? Maybe 4, but no more than 5 ! Come, I’m here in the back !” he interrupted, as he loves to do.

    I walked through the dusty shop. Clearly, he didn’t bother hiring someone to clean…

    As I progress toward the back-shop, the smell of rotting flesh becomes more and more apparent. I guess one or two windows would have been nice…

    Finally, I see him, polishing the pearl of his scepter. Probably the only thing I ever saw him cleaning.

    “So, how do you find the shop ?”

    “It’s alright, I guess. How is business ?”

    He took a deep inspiration, which means it was time for me to sit down where I could. I was gonna be here for a while.

    “You won’t believe it. Simply wonderful ! Necromancy was really the best career choice I made ! People come with their pets, I put a spell on their corpses and they are as new ! Even better actually, some kill their pets purposely before bringing them here !”

    I wanted to protest, but I didn’t have the energy to launch a debate on the questionable origin of his money.

    “And that’s not all ! I sometimes use some dead animals I find on the street or in the forest and sell them for such a good price. Do you know how much I can sell a bear for ? It’s just awesome !”

    I knew I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t restreint myself any further from asking why there was a boney throne in the back.

    “Oh, that ? Another one of my ideas. I sold animals with an expiration date, but with extra functions. People brought back the skeletons for a 5% discount, and I used them to build multiple objects, like this throne. It’s mostly cats and dogs, but I can sell it for a good price.”

    “I see you haven’t changed at all.”

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Well, no wonder Pet Sematery was playing in my head while I was reading this one! Though the tone is another thing altogether.

      I really like the premise and how matter-of-factly it is taken in this story. Necromancy not as just a path among mystical arts, but as a career choice, a way of earning the bread. And although the story is quite comical, it also has a lot of very dark elements. I can’t help but wonder if some owners wouldn’t prefer to have their pets without physiological functions and needs (I can even imagine the ads: “All the ‘fun’ functionalities, without the messy parts and the costs of keeping it alive! Never worry about having to grieve for a beloved pet – dead kittens can’t die!”), and, well, there it is.

      Really funny take on the prompt.

      In lieu of criticism, I’d say the ending could have landed a bit better. It lacks surprise, build up or escalation. It adds another element, but I don’t really think it develops the ideas of the story or the characters in new ways (well, the necromancer brother is a shrewd businessman, and he is really not wasting on parts and ideas – but I guess that whole idea was already presented in a very fun way before). But that’s a very minor criticism – endings in short pieces are difficult to come by, and the story is engaging the way it is.

      Very nice story!

      1. contract Avatar

        Well, I have to say it, I didn’t know how to end it, so I just put that.

        One of my favorite thing to do is to combine horror and humour, to create a weird feeling, so this prompt was perfect for it.

        Glad you enjoyed !

    2. ArtemisSage Avatar
      ArtemisSage

      I love the main character’s calmness with everything their brother is doing. As though this was as normal as running a normal pet store. It gives the feeling that this is normal in their world, yet not so much to the extent that everyone can do it. I love the lightheartedness of this.

    3. “Even better actually, some kill their pets purposely before bringing them here “

      Wow. I was already enjoying this one- the narrator’s resigned / expectant tone was amusing enough in its own right- that line kind of slapped me in the face. In a good way, I mean. Might just be me but it managed to come off as dark humor. Either way the story’s great, I’d love to hear more about the brother’s life and business sometime.

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