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Xion
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« Reply #20 on: March 11, 2012, 01:19:34 AM »

To That Damned Sun

It hurtles yet unknown (and unknowing) through the void ever vast towards distant stars. Cold out here, it thinks (if think it can). Whispers it to no one in particular: "I have these shimmering dots to comfort me," and it smiles at the lie of its complacency. It turns blue body round and seeks others like or unlike itself, but others that it hopes and unhopes are there.

"Echo!" it cries out (if cry out it can), and its voice neither travels nor returns. It runs blue body round and round and rounder still, and in solitary desperation acts out its greatest fear: nothing. Being and having and seeing an abundance of nothing. It sighs and glances at its companions, and at its master. Chained through unseen and unsightly chains to that damned sun.
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« Reply #21 on: March 16, 2012, 09:23:11 AM »

The Measure of Sanity - A story about time travel

"Aaaaaand Welcome back, audience! Here we are concluding our in-depth interview with the man who claims to have come from the future. Fantastical!"

"Thank you, Steve."

"You're welcome! You're welcome, Mr. time traveler. I have to thank you for all your insight on cold fusion, hyper-light speed transportation, and telepathic communication/surveillance technologies. Fascinating theories."

"Oh, they aren't theories, Steve. They're real. They exist in the future, and could exist now if people would just open their minds to the Star Gods and sacrifice a few more goat babies on Wednesday."

"Riight...of course. My mistake. Well, as we wrap this up, is there anything you'd like to say to our audience?"

"...American Idol is shite television."
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« Reply #22 on: March 16, 2012, 06:21:41 PM »

The dark

It was dark. I couldn't make out.. the thing...

It... almost shone darkness. I couldn't comprehend...

Suddenly, the lights came on.
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« Reply #23 on: March 16, 2012, 08:44:51 PM »

Good Grief by Poopy Pants

It wasn't long before we found out about the martians.

The otter swam silently down the creek.

She was alone that night and couldn't stop crying.

Everything about the car said, "BUY ME!"

Unfortunately, we could not find our way and our souls were lost to the dark.

Susan was always considered a typical "Soccer-mom" by the rest of the family.

But then suddenly the mood changed, and Chris couldn't help but laugh.

Opium was always a good friend to me. It was mostly a one-way relationship.

Under all the books and paper, out popped Marley. "There you are!" Jill exclaimed.

It not that I wanted to hurt myself, I just wanted to somehow take away my consciousness.

Blow after blow, John's face was nothing more than a sloppily made Italian sandwich.

My feet got numb first, then my hands. "Well at least I have a nice jacket."

Most people don't really know how to react to Eugene. He's just so ... unique.

The killer ran from door to door. His feet kicking rhythmically. His grin set solidly on his face.

And then he saw it, the crown mother. It made him tear up a little.

Infinite space was communing with me. I am the universe itself. I am whole.

Never before had he seen her look at him with such intensity. It was overwhelming.

He screamed and hacked at the first one with the knife. Blood sprayed across his face.

"Howard? ... HOWARD? Where's that old man got to now?" She grumpily trotted down the yard.

"Yep, you'll never find another one like it." He smiled, holding it gently in his hands.

The force of his words hit her full in the chest. She couldn't breath.

"You're so full of shit, Joules." He smiled, "Yeah, but you love it."

The bacon grease popped and pipped in the pan. "Ow! My arm!" She grabbed it away, "Here, let me do it you idiot!"

There was a uneasiness in his voice, and Liza didn't like it. "What did you do, Roy?"

So then after that day we always remembered to buy extra paper.

He was killed only days before he would have been released.

"I'm a product of my environment, bitch." Silence. But only for a moment before Mom hit her so hard it hurt me to hear.

I cried myself to sleep that night. I missed the pizza so much.

"LALALA! I'M NOT LISTENING!" He hopped around. I laughed and kicked him off the dock.

She smelled so good. My hands didn't work. I felt like a corpse. I couldn't move.

And so he started running. It's said that he never stopped, but I'll keep myth and folklore out of this.

This ineptitude kept him constantly on edge. He was always trying to prove himself.

"David, you don't know what the heck you're talking about."

Open guts, silent lips, and cold skin. Looks like I'm not going home early.

The blooms were glowing, dancing, swirling through the air. It was magical.

The sign said "Closed". Tom thought that meant "Open".

Yesterday was a blur. The heat got to everyone's heads. We would regret what we'd done, but not today.

Indivisible, That's what it felt like. We were an army, an element, a cause, an ideal.

Mrs. June always annoyed the heck out of us. She'd buy us toys that we didn't like, send us stupid notes of encouragement, we wanted out.

Listen for the sound of it. Pay attention when it happens.
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Alec S.
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« Reply #24 on: March 16, 2012, 09:11:02 PM »

The Second Shortest Story

For sale:  Baby shoes, lot of 50, mint condition
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Xion
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« Reply #25 on: March 17, 2012, 01:15:13 AM »

Sand Dollars

"What's this?" little girl asks littler brother, eying her find with unparalleled wonder. Flat little round thing, was lying half-buried on the beach, minding its own history. Suddenly found itself scooped up by this tiny fragile hand. Littler brother doesn't know what it is - he can hardly speak, and just repeats: "What!"

Little girl shrugs and carefully, lovingly, places the flat little round thing in a green plastic pail along with other treasures. Littler brother reaches for it but little girl is already off further down the beach. Littler brother waddles after, chirping "what, what!"

Flat little round thing shimmers wet in the sun. Sea pulls back into itself, breathing deeply.
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« Reply #26 on: March 17, 2012, 01:49:29 AM »

Spaceman

"I am in space," he said.

"Yes, space."
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« Reply #27 on: March 18, 2012, 01:01:34 PM »


It's a poem,
   dude!
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« Reply #28 on: March 18, 2012, 03:00:42 PM »

He was correct in assuming that the waiting room would be designed for maximum excruciation.
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Manuel Magalhães
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« Reply #29 on: March 18, 2012, 03:11:03 PM »

 Cry by  SMB Question Magalhães
 Addicted Hand Any Key Hand Joystick No No NO Hand Point Left Noir Cry
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« Reply #30 on: March 18, 2012, 03:14:28 PM »

I could see her across the bar, she was cute.

She was even cute when she slapped me across the face.

Later, as I was puking in the back alley, her cuteness stayed with me.
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« Reply #31 on: March 19, 2012, 08:33:22 PM »

The dust and bullets fell like rain, the smell of fresh blood mixing with the grime of spent cartridges on the ground, His gaze was fixed on each soldier his firearm swayed to each target with such precsion it was surgical. Then some kid calls him gay, for calling in his payload.

*M1st3rm1g00 Has left the game*
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Hangedman
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« Reply #32 on: March 20, 2012, 07:14:41 AM »

Block

Feels like I swallowed a chunk of ice.

But it's not cold; I wish it was.

They're getting closer.
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ITIAMOSIWE (Play it on NG!) - Vision
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« Reply #33 on: March 23, 2012, 08:00:28 PM »

Substance Abuse by Azeo

"What do you mean, put it back?" I said. I had the flower vase gripped tightly in my hand, and could see my fingerprints.

"Well, sir, it doesn't belong to you." said the waitress.

"Are you going to call the cops?"

She didn't reply, and I could tell I was making her uncomfortable. I was kind, and left. With my vase.

I spent the rest of the night going from restaurant to restaurant, knocking things off tables and stealing vases.
Big Laff Dude, i fucking love this :D
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« Reply #34 on: March 24, 2012, 11:11:03 AM »

After working with Matt for a couple of weeks it turns out that he's an OK guy. Which, you know, I wouldn't expect, since in middle school he held me down and forced me to admit that I had a crush on Kimmy from Full House. But I guess age changes people.

Not too long ago I decided to bring up the issue, just to see if he remembered. "You know, I didn't really like her."

He instantly swung around, gazing at me and through me with empty eyes. Yep, he remembered.

"I...just said that so you would let me go."

Tears flooded through eyes and face, creating a beautiful river upon which his contacts came rafting down. He tried to speak, but his words were incomprehensible through the blubbering. The only words I could pick out were "...so sorry," "puberty," "push my feelings," "tore me apart," and "I'm so worthless...such a worthless person..."

What a softie. God bless his tender little heart.
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« Reply #35 on: March 24, 2012, 08:00:25 PM »

Joe emerges from behind a dumpster, as you're walking home after seeing The Hunger Games. He's shaking and holding a revolver. He hands you a plastic grocery back and tells you to piss into it. Since you drank a Large Mountain Dew (for like six dollars) at the theatre, you easily comply, though it's hard to hold both handles of the bag and aim. Once you've emptied yourself into the bag he rattles the gun with glee and says "Good..." and gestures for you to hand it to him. He cinches the bag off by twisting the handles, and then begins whirling it over his head, screaming with laughter. His eyes are full of a special sort of violence. He then lets go, hurling the bag with all of its piss inertia up in to the air, where it collides with the wall of the building. A few drops get on you and a few drops get on him.

You think you've satisfied him, and are almost sure you're home free, when he pulls another folded up grocery store bag from his back pocket and says "Again."
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« Reply #36 on: April 06, 2012, 11:10:54 AM »

Huh, I have never-ever written short stories in English, even though I'm a pretty good writer when it comes to Finnish. I guess it's my first try. Also my apologies if there are typos. My English skills aren't that fluent yet.

---
Nightmare by Ozoh
There it was, curled up in the corner and crying.
A pool of silvery tears next to its wavering, almost non-existant body.
It looked so small, lonely and innocent, just like every night after I had scared it away.
I felt like hugging it, to make it happy. And so I went up to it, and wrapped my arms around it.
It felt so cold. But I wasn't scared.
"You're my nightmare", I said.

---
Metro by Ozoh
Four minutes. Only four more minutes of sitting here. Then I could leave this place.
The underground station was in very bad condition. But they're always.
Except in the richer part of the town, where everything is clean and bright.
But not in here, not this time.

I looked back at my cell phone in my hand. But nothing could be done anymore.
Well, at least now I don't have to answer it all the time. Maybe I could even
quit using a cell phone. It was pretty useless anyways. People just ringing and texting
even though they didn't have anything to really say. And I was an indie game developer,
probably no one had any actual business to do with me.

The underground arrived. But I didn't go in.
Instead, I threw my phone to the rails and went to the kiosk to grab some more ice coffee.

---
« Last Edit: April 06, 2012, 11:15:55 AM by Ozoh » Logged

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« Reply #37 on: April 20, 2012, 08:05:29 AM »

His loins were stirring. Hers weren't.
We wanted to pork around. She didn't.
She wanted to go shopping. He didn't.
Pork and then shop.
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Yeah.
Erinock
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« Reply #38 on: April 20, 2012, 02:43:39 PM »

The pitch night is as still as the breeze that fills it, the trees call back a rustling echo of the gentle pushing wind, causing the whisper of rustling fir and pine trees fill the air. A lone night owl that stands on an outcropping tree branch lets out a soft sound of satisfaction as it pushes off its perch and descents to its prey below.
 
But harken to one disturbance, a ripple of disturbance in the wood resounds through the low hanging willows and swamps. The soft footfalls of a stricken young woman, tussling throughout the underbrush with no apparent destination; just seeking refuge to her life which seemed to become more and more desolate with the passing time.
 
She leapt through the hanging branches and jagged rocks like a jack rabbit, both mind and limbs in constant rhythm, looking for anything. Once coming into a gully she paused, and ever so suddenly darted into a rock deformation only a few feet wide.  Gasping for air she scanned the dark pinewood scene, gripping at the dirty cloth garments that hung loosely over her small frame, her chest felt like it was going to implode with the stress she gave it. Pulling out a worn piece of bread out of a small leather satchel, and absent-mindedly nibbled on the morsel. The sound of approaching heavy horse hooves met her ears. With great effort she lunged back out into the cold of the night.
 
After a small amount running a glint of firelight met her wet eyes, hoping for that slither of comfort, she followed the glint. It brought her into a clearing, her hope kindled once more for a log cabin stood unshaken on top of a large flat rock.
 
Stopping by a well out of clear sight, she pondered the safeness of approaching the little dwelling. In apparent decision that her followers would be among the more dangerous sorts she pushed warily toward the porch. But before she could set foot on the wooden landing, the door opened quickly but silently. With and abundant flow of firelight it illuminated her terrified face. 
 
But what met it was a kind glow of a weathered, middle-aged, strong bearded face. The woman fell to her knees before him and pleaded a silent cry for his help. A moment later in the silence, the sound of thundering hooves of about a dozen horses met their ears.
 
Without needing explanation he stepped onto the porch in full light, and the stature of a strong man with green and grey clad clothing, hardy leather boots and an assortment of knives strapped around his belt came into view.
 
The woman instantly identified him as one of the King's Rangers, washed over with hope and praise to the first that she found the help she needed. He stood silently at the edge of the porch when the thundering tide of a dozen horses filled the clearing, the woman slipped into the darkness of the porch, praying that the Ranger would give to her desperate need.
 
One horse came out of the dozen with a hanging pride, one that indicated his rank among these cultists. Peering deeper into their appearance from the porch, the woman saw these men were dressed in hanging garments and fully clothed all over with nightmarish black. Their horses too were an unnatural dark shade which fitted their darkness of heart.
 
“Well, Ardorn” the leader hissed, “I never thought of you as one to take to the quiet life in the woods, getting too frail to wield that Longsword of yours eh?”
 
The other horsemen snickered in mocking slander.
 
“Now,” the leader said as his hooded cloak turned so slightly to reveal some of the grim face hidden below,
 
“Down to your new kings bidding" He let the title hang in the air as he tasted his new status. 
“The woman if you please, or face your fate” he said.
 
The Ranger lifted his head slowly to the arrogant cultist. “Well, Juan, I have always taken to you as a traitor, this is a night for evil, is it not? Killing your own brother, and then forcing the fair lady into allegiance?"
 
Juan lifted his head in question as he was taken aback by the accusation and spat “You rangers always have your uncanny source of knowledge, but yes, my brother is dead by my own hand, not by my will but the will of destiny."
 
The ranger let out a small grunt. “Destiny can just as easily change your fate as well as the kings, you have no authority over its influence, or alliance to anyone but the sovereign. Even if you do have the stone,” the ranger said in a simple mock.
 
Now Juan was taken back, for his plans had been known, the riders around him even whispered in silent question.  “Your meddling will now come to an end; you know too much, too much to see another day."
 
Juan dismounted his horse swiftly and took the scabbard from his horse’s saddle.  The ranger revealed the hilt below his cloak, and with a hiss of steel throughout the night, and a glimmer of razor sharp metal ringing though the darkness, he prepared for the tide on which was coming quickly across the clearing.
 
Following the same motions, Juan swung out his sword, but instead of the glimmer of polished steel, a dark blade was produced, only leaving an aura darker than black. Ardorn knew that it was infected, and one mere scratch of the darkened blade would mean disaster, this was a dual that would have to be ended quickly.
 
Both of them stood in concentration, anticipating the play out of the battle. They monitored each other’s expressions and movements carefully, and examined the placement in which the held their feet.
 
With supernatural speed and agility, the wraith-like figure flowed towards Ardorn, but he parried it in simple movements. Withdrawing, Ardorn used the rebounding force to hurl his Longsword in an overhead strike, which came down at a lethal speed towards Juan’s exposed shoulder; but in a roll, the strike only thudded into the soft soil.
 
Then in a series of hacks and slashes Juan attempted breaking the Rangers block, but Ardorn was undeterred by the skills that were shown. In one strike Ardorn saw an opening, and wrenched Juan’s strike into a deadly arm lock; and with one stroke he dug the sharp side of the blade into his armpit. Shrieking in agony Juan was mortally wounded, too far to wield his sword.
 
The other dark riders lunged into action to save their master and avenge the treachery towards the kingdoms new ruler. A hefty masculine thug lifted a Broad Axe to his defence, and charged towards his master’s side. In one downstroke, Ardorn’s block was broken, but rebuilt as he lunged towards the thug’s saddle, cut it swiftly, and slapped the horse with the flat side of his sword. 
 
The stricken horse galloped away, dragging the broad man with it screaming in confusion. Then Ardorn saw the purpose of the distraction, Juan had mounted his horse in the broad thugs attack and prepared for retreat.  As the other horsemen prepared to disembark, Juan shouted in evil intent to his rival “I swear by the oath of blood! You rangers will pay a dear price for your betrayal to your new king! “Whipping his deathly black horse, He reared his and galloped away in a thundering display as his dozen of rugged thugs flew into the night.
 
Ardorn slowly bent down and examined the ground in front of him, and wiped the ground of its defile.  It was as he suspected he saw the blood was not that of crimson, but of inky black. He slowly got up, while pondering thoughts that ran through his mind.
 
 In his silence a feminine voice broke his concentration.
 
“My Lord…” her voice shivered in fright “Th-Thank you”.
 
Ardorn swung around nodded his head in recognition, “A deed I would have not let myself live with if not done."
 
 The woman bowed her head in utter thankfulness, but she still looked troubled.
 
 “There is more you need to tell me, is there not?” he said sensing her troubled face.
 
“Sir, I have heard that the rangers have supernatural sources of information, and I need to know…” She said with uneasiness. “There was one I came with, an excellent marksman, clothed in strange garments and unaware of his location, a traveller you might say.  He helped me get away from those men for a short time, but we got separated,” she said with regret.
 
The ranger paused for a short moment, “Follow me”.
 
The two entered the small cabin on the end of the clearing. As they entered, the woman felt quite safe with the quaint surroundings, and was quite pleased with the simple furnishings.  A small fire crackled in the corner of the cabin, which reflected off the pots and pans hanging over the kitchen sink, the table was made of polished oak; all the other furniture was of the same handmade look.  A little work table filled the far corner near the window where it appeared Ardorn had been whittling in his spare time, as well as reading the Book of Annals.
 
The Ranger made a small gesture to sit down at the table. She was glad to finally rest after a long night of turmoil, all her burdens seemed to subside as she felt the soothing warmth of the fire.
 
Ardorn quietly prepared a kettle and mixed coffee on the stove, while reaching about for different leaves and herbs as he prepared a simple broth. The woman was caught in a maddening curiosity drifting between the quiet of the two, the only sounds were of the bubbling broth and the high fire.
 
Her mind spun with the questions she had, about the events that occurred in the night surrounding the tragedy.
 
Finally Ardorn spun around and rested the kettle and cups on the table, poured the coffee, added the sugar, and looked up at the woman.  “Well, Princess. You have had a rough night, have you not?” Rangers were probably used to the startled look of wonder that adorned the face of the people they shared their wisdom with. “How did y-“ Ardorn lifted a finger and said “How did I know you were the late kings daughter Elyss? Well, that beside the point isn’t it? I think what’s more to the point is, what happened in the field out there.” As he hooked a thumb toward the window.
 
Elyss pursed her lips at the amount of information which the ranger kept from her.
 “His name is Juan, your uncle. He lives in the kingdom of Vralon, and until now, was a peaceful dictator in those faraway lands. Last news was he embarked on a journey into the northern uncharted lands of Glacia, for unknown intentions. My suspicion was he was searching for the first half of the glyph stone." He continued “He is also one of the Brethren of the oaths. “
 
There was a slight pause.
 
If Elyss had questions before, they were now extinguished with new ones.  Ardorn explained further “His blood was black, a sign of an oath maker. Their heats are as black as the dark seas and as mysterious as what lies beneath the surface.” Then he said quietly, "They pledge allegiance to the dark precursors fully and completely, their will and minds merge to a certain extent.” Aradorn dropped his head in an apparent dark memory, and after a small pause he continued “And as for the Glyph stone…” Elyss’s eyes showed she was very curious on this matter, “It is a stone as old as time and space.
 
The Annals say that the first one “Avo”, forged it in complete purity, and the other in utter corruption bred by chaos. And also leaving one as old as it; the chosen one, to see to its proper use."
 
Pausing to take a sip of his tea only for a moment, then he continued, "The chosen one is a virtues, the essence of balance. She and only she hold the balance to the scale of our world. She can control the power of the pure stone, but not of the corrupt. Only one of the bloodlines of Eyarr can control the corrupt stone for man is a breed of both the Purity of Avo and the Brink of Chaos. If Juan was to find the stones he would have to find both of the chosen ones to unite the stone, and resurrect the arbiter of War and Ruin”.
 
 Upon finishing he left Elyss speechless, still digesting the seriousness of the matter.

Ardorn stood up in a quick movement and in a rather bland voice not fitting the horror of the discussion they just had, said “Well, Princess, I think that’s enough for one day. There is a bed through that door to and up the ladder to the loft” as he motioned to the direction he had explained.

The Princess looked up at him in disbelief, how could he possibly stop at this moment?  And how could she possibly sleep after such a burden on her shoulders? She painted her face with utter disturbance of Ardorn’s behaviour. The Ranger apparently read her emotions and said “Sleep will do you well, Elyss, especially now that you are under my care” he said with a tinge of a smile. Elyss hated the sound of the rangers last remark, and wanted to remind him of her higher status, but realised he probably already knew it well. “Don’t Parry, off to bed now, you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow” he said while gesturing a shooing motion with his hands. Elyss had a feeling he wouldn’t receive “No” as an answer, so with a pout on her face, she made her way to the ladder.
She paused on the first rung.
“At what time shall I get up?”
“Oh,… I think you’ll know” he said with a small smirk.
Elyss pondered his meaning for a second, and nodded her head towards the ranger “g’ night”
“Good night” the ranger said as if he was waiting for her dismissal
Climbing the rest of the ladder to the loft, she found a hammock-like bed hanging from the rafters of the log cabin, much like the rigging from a ship with thick ropes and nots going in every intricate direction to give balance to the whole bed. She moved closer to the little airborne hammock, and spreading her hands on the woollen and bearskin covers, sat down. And for the first time in all the night, she wept for her lost father.   

wheew, no more de-motivation. Time to get some programming done  Beer! cheers fellas
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« Reply #39 on: April 20, 2012, 03:40:39 PM »

Chocolate, classical music, and sex; these were a few of Charlie Preston's favorite things.
Tonight he enjoyed two out of three.
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