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Writing Challenges - Complete!
ohhhh, interesting, I like it. good job.
Mod
Thank you for the comment and the challenge!
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But death replied: 'I choose him.' So he went,
And there was silence in the summer night;
Silence and safety; and the veils of sleep.
Then, far away, the thudding of the guns.
Deadline: February 16th
Completed: February 8th
ONLY THE SILENCE REMAINS
Guns cease their thudding,
Death’s screams have been hushed,
Rain pours down on the battlefield,
The only roar amongst the silence.
A soldier rests his weary bones,
His gun close to his chest,
His blood glistens a path into the mud,
The silence of death approaches.
Silhouettes emerge from the sheet of rain,
Friend or foe – it does not matter anymore,
His limbs are heavy, His eyes are following,
His mind is filled with silence.
A cloaked figure approaches,
The stench of bodies offend,
A bony finger gestures him to follow,
A silent action that preludes death.
Many of the fallen rise,
Following the silhouettes,
Their bodies continue to rest,
The muddied earth holds their silence.
“Come with me!” The wind howls,
The rain holds his body down,
He rises while he sleeps,
Then only the silence remains.
Mod
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Deadline: February 11th
Completed: February 10th
DREAMS
To dream is to live.
To live is to die.
In the darkened room,
A child sleeps.
In a shrouded tomb,
A child weeps.
I wish I could fly!
A child dreams.
Why did you die?
A child screams.
Like a bird I soared!
A child lies.
The dirt is poured,
A child cries.
I’ll make it up there!
A child shakes.
Another nightmare,
A child wakes.
Consumed by fear,
A child tries.
The final tear,
A child’s rise.
I don’t want to fly!
A dream that fails.
I’ll reach the sky!
A new dream sails.
To live is to die.
To dream is to live.
Mod
Deadline: February 24th
Completed: February 18th
RESORTS, BEACHES & GEORGE: A Monologue
We’ve still got an hour or two before we get there, guys, so just sit back and relax.
No John, we’re not going to stop again.
What do you mean you need to go to the toilet? Pretty much every town we’ve driven past, we’ve had to stop so you could go!
They were not up to your standard? If you need to go to the toilet, then you go – you don’t worry about standards. Besides, the last place we stopped at was fifteen minutes ago and that was a nice one. It was clean and well maintained.
Huh? What do you mean you just had to practise there and now you need to go for a real one?
No, we’re not stopping at the next town!
No, George, the next town is not where our resort is.
Yes, George, we are going to be staying at a place by the beach.
Because the next town is not by the beach - that’s why we’re not staying in the next town!
Why? What do you mean why?
Why is the beach not at the next town? Because that’s just the way it was made! We’re inland and the beach is on the coast!
You want the beach to be inland, do you, George? Well, it’s not, so you’ll just have to deal with that fact.
Sorry, John, I couldn’t hear you?
Does the resort have a toilet? I’m sure it does, John. It also has air conditioning, a hot tub and a sauna. There’re tennis courts, squash courts and even a gym, so we can do a workout if we want.
What do you mean, Jane?
No, I didn’t say that we need to do a workout – I just said that we could if we wanted to.
Well I know you don’t want to do a workout now, Jane, I just said that when we get there…
Alright, alright! We don’t have to do a workout. You can lie by the pool if you like.
Yes, George, I told you there is a beach there.
Yes, you can lie on the beach!
I just said that Jane could lie by the pool if she wanted to, but she can also lie on the beach.
I know you want to go to the beach, George! I was just pointing out that…
What do you mean you don’t want the pool there?
No, George, I can’t take the pool away.
Because it’s not my pool to take away! It’s part of the resort!
You don’t want to go to the resort? You just want to stay at the beach? Well, George, we’ve booked the resort, so we’re staying at the resort. You can do what you like, George.
No, Jane, you don’t need to lie by the pool all the time. You can do what you like too.
Yes, John, you can go to the toilet.
No! Not in here! Wait until we get to the resort!
Yes, George, the resort by the beach.
Yes, I know you like the beach, George.
Alright, I’ll stop when we get into this town, John.
I’m sure the toilet will be fine to use.
No, George, this is not the resort! It’s a small town that’s not by the beach!
I don’t care if you want it to be by the beach – it’s not!
Why? Because it’s not! Now be quiet while I pull the car over here. There’s a toilet right there by the bus stop, John. Hurry up, so we can get moving.
What do you mean it might not be sanitary? Just go and use it and then we can keep driving.
John went to the toilet, Jane.
I know you fell asleep.
I know you woke up.
How do I know? Because I’m talking to you.
Where’s John going now? John! What are you doing?
What do you mean you’re going home? We’ve been driving for three hours and…
No, you can’t walk home!
Fine! Take your bag and go then!
No, George he’s not going to the beach.
He’s going home.
What do you mean you want to go home too?
Jane, we can’t just turn around and go home. We’ve booked the resort and we’ll be there in about an hour.
Well, you’ll need to make up your mind, Jane, because I’m not going back.
You’re scared that I’ll make you workout at the gym? I told you, I’m not going to make you do anything!
What do you mean that sounds boring?
No, I don’t mean you’ll do nothing! I mean you can… Oh! Forget it!
Yes, you can take your bag and wait at the bus stop with John.
No, George, they’re not going to the beach.
Why? Because they’re going back home! Can we just drive, George?
No, you don’t have to drive George, I’m driving.
Yes, we’re going to the beach!
I know you like the beach, George.
Mod
• Have a deaf character. Include the City of Boston in some way.
• Have this sentence somewhere in it... I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars
• Include these words, each at least 5 times: Foreboding, Jump, Sweater, Nine
• Have a character named Silvester
and...
• Have plot twist I will never see coming...
Deadline: March 19th
MISDIRECTION
Part 1: Suicidal Sweaters
A sense of foreboding filled the room. There were no sounds, other than the leaking tap and the shrill sound of the sirens leaving the apartment block. The four remaining members of the Sweater family sat still in the room, along with their local priest and me. While they prayed silently to their god for the soul of Nero Sweater, I read over the words that were painted black along the lounge room wall once more: I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars. This same statement painted nine times in each room of the apartment.
The snap of the priest closing his Bible brought me back to the room and out of my thoughts. Cadence, Fedelia, Bernard and Silvester Sweater made the sign of the cross, as they returned to the reality that was Apartment Three-Nine.
“So, Mr Sweater, can you think of any reason why your brother might jump out the window?” I asked the eldest of the Sweater clan. “I mean, six years ago there were eleven of you Sweaters gracing the pages of magazines and attending every gala event that America had to offer. Then only a year ago there were nine of you Sweater siblings and now we’re down to four. Now I was never too good with my numbers, but to me five dead Sweaters in just over a year seems a little too convenient to put up to chance!”
“I told you and the police – I don’t know why he would do that!” Silvester responded angrily. “Nero was always a little odd, but I wouldn’t think that he would have it in him to do…” He paused to stifle a sob. “… I… I just don’t know what made him jump!”
“Mr. Sloan, I beseech you to cease your questioning at this time. You can see that all four family members are in mourning about this most foreboding event. Maybe it would be better for all if you continue your investigation into Nero’s… uh… incident, once the family are in a less traumatised state.” The priest pleaded on behalf of the Sweater family.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Father… um… what do I call you?”
“Father Quigley.”
“Well, Father Quigley, the way I see it the Sweaters were once a powerful group in Boston, but since the death of their patriarch, Silvestro, things have been falling apart.” I looked at the tear-stained faces of the four silent family members and then back at the priest. “Silvestro passed away after a random jump from an aeroplane six years…”
“That was an accident!” The priest interjected.
“Skydiving with a parachute that malfunctions is an accident,” I argued, “But doing a jump from 13,000 feet without a parachute even strapped on – I think we can safely conclude that that wasn’t accidental. Either he jumped or was pushed.”
“Well, we were never there, so we cannot jump to conclusions.” The priest held his stance.
I eyed him suspiciously. It seemed that he knew something that he wasn’t telling me. “Then there was their matriarch, Leandra, shot nine times without so much of a sign of a struggle, just a year later. Nothing stolen – No motive at all.”
“They imprisoned Uncle Turner in Walpole for that.” Fedelia stated without any hint of feeling.
I turned to her and the rest of her family. “Yes and how convenient that he died trying to escape just a month after imprisonment… ran himself into police bullets, yelling ‘She was meant to stop me’.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways, Mr Sloan.” The priest stated.
I sighed in frustration. They were definitely hiding something. “So, Father Quigley, explain to me how your god works when he kills off five siblings out of nine in just over a year? All apparently falling from great heights… young Zea jumped off the Zakim Bridge on the first of January of last year. Apparently she was trying to help a man who was committing suicide himself – bystanders said she leapt off the tower of the bridge after calling out ‘I’ll save him’. How she got to the top of the tower, we don’t know, but we sure know how she came down; bouncing off cables, before being sliced in half by one – part of her left on the bridge, the other close by to the man that jumped. He was hysterical when police pulled him out of the water.”
The four siblings looked at each other. The priest glanced at them and then returned his attention to me. “Now, Zea did have her problems.”
“Aaron and Cato Sweater somehow managed to get to the top of the John Hancock Tower, only to find themselves splattered on the ground in a matter of seconds later. Did they climb up there to have a fight? Wrestled each other to the bottom? What were they doing up there?” I questioned harshly, “Then we’ve got Poppy Sweater… do we want to cue the foreboding music here?”
“Look, we know how our family has passed!” Silvester shouted, “We do not need the reminders! What we need is some peace and quiet to mourn their passing! Get out of here!” The priest walked across to Silvester in a bid to calm him.
“Mr Sloan, I think it would be best if you left.” Bernard Sweater declared, though he did not say it as passionately as his elder brother had done.
“Maybe it’s best if we…” Cadence began, only to be interrupted by her brother.
“It’s best if he left.” Bernard told her, and then turned back to me. “We are in need of some rest and your presence is no longer required.
I sighed in frustration. “You all seem to be forgetting – you hired me. I was hired to find out what happened to your father and then you asked me to look into why both your brothers would have jumped from the Hancock Tower.”
“Well, I guess your job is done.” Silvester stated, the anger still evident in his tone.
“Such a foreboding height,” Fedelia said, as she stared out into the distance. “Why do it at such a foreboding height?”
“See!” I exclaimed, “That’s what makes me think that there’s something you’re not telling me. All of you make these off the cuff comments about the events, which tells me you know something.”
Silvester went into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he took out a wad of cash and began to leaf through it. When he was done, he handed me a handful of notes. “That’s $2000 for your services and here’s another $1000 for any trouble that we’ve caused you.” He folded his wallet and placed it back in his jacket. “Now, I want you gone, Mr Sloan. We do not need the likes of you here anymore.” He said in a less emphatic fashion.
I sighed once more and looked over the priest and the family again. Shoving the money into the pocket of my overcoat, I noticed Cadence Sweater giving me a look that appeared like she wanted to say something. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you all?” I said, giving Cadence the opportunity to tell me whatever it was she wanted me to know. But all was quiet. Bernard and Silvester shook their heads and then Father Quigley walked across to me.
“Let me lead you to the door.” He said, as he picked up my hat and handed it to me.
I placed the hat on my head and tipped it at the family. “You have a good night, now. Let me know if you need anything more done.” With that I left the Sweaters to their secrets.
Great start. I look forward to reading more.
Mod
• Have a deaf character. Include the City of Boston in some way.
• Have this sentence somewhere in it... I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars
• Include these words, each at least 5 times: Foreboding, Jump, Sweater, Nine
• Have a character named Silvester
and...
• Have plot twist I will never see coming...
Deadline: March 19th
MISDIRECTION
Part 2: Another Lost Sweater
A year later, a knock on my office door brought with it a familiar face.
“Mr Sloan, you’ve got to help me!”
I sat back in my office chair and looked over the desperate man who stood in front of me. “Silvester Sweater… back in my office again. I thought you didn’t need the likes of me anymore?”
“You’ve got to help us.” He pleaded.
I picked up yesterday’s newspaper and threw it in front of him. The headline screamed: Another Sweater Suicide. “Is this what you came to see me about?”
He glanced at the headline and nodded. “Fedelia is dead.”
“I know. I read the papers, just like everyone else,” I said nonchalantly. “So what is it that you want me to do, Mr Sweater? Last time I took on one of your cases, your family wasn’t really forthcoming with information. I can’t investigate things properly if my clients hold out on me.”
Silvester Sweater slumped down in the chair opposite my desk and held his head in his hands. He began crying. “I didn’t tell them…” He sobbed, “They needed to know and I didn’t tell them… please… help me…”
I sat up, a little uncomfortable with a grown man weeping in my presence. “Just what is it that you want me to do, Mr Sweater?”
He sobbed uncontrollably and when he raised his head, tears mixed with snot ran down his face. I threw him the box of tissues that were sitting on my desk. He grabbed a handful and wiped at his nose and then grabbed another handful to dry the rest of his face. “It’s… I made a bad deal… He… He said it would cost… cost me… and… and now… now they… they’re dead!” He burst out crying once more.
“Who was the deal with? Who do you believe is killing off your family?”
“The Koltons… I made a business deal with Marbrand Kolton and it fell through…”
“How long ago was this?”
“T… two months ago… and he… he… he said he would…”
“Two months ago?” I had had enough. “Fedelia was the only one of you who’s died within the past two months! She died the same as most of your other family members! Are you trying to use me to stop a competitor, Sweater?”
“No! It’s true!” Silvester yelled, “You have to believe me! Kolton said he was going to get what he was owed one way or another!” He clasped his hands over his face and cried even more.
This wasn’t what I was used to and, as I hadn’t signed off on anything yet, it wasn’t what I wanted to get involved in at this point in time. “Look, Mr Sweater, if all you’re going to do is cry and use up all of my tissues then you’ll need to leave. I’ve got enough business to attend to and you coming in crying like this doesn’t endear me into looking at your case once again.”
“No! You can’t just brush us off…” He pleaded once again, “We’re the Sweaters… Boston’s most powerful family… We need your help! Please!”
I got up out of my comfortable office chair and strode across to the door. “Silvester, I think it’s best that you leave. You may be one of the Sweaters – Boston’s most powerful family, but you’re also part of a family that’s falling apart. I’m not taking the case.” I raised my eyebrows and shook my head towards the door. “Out!”
“But… what about…?” He got up and stumbled towards the door. “You can’t do this… Sloan… please… you need to protect us…”
“Hire a security guard… or, with your money, a firm… better yet, pay Kolton off.” I suggested as I closed the door behind him. The howling lasted for almost a minute more outside my door, before it faded away and I was left to my own devices again. I walked across to my table and my hand picked up the newspaper without my approval. My eyes scanned the heading again, as I began to skim the article for a third time. “Fedelia Sweater was found hung by some power-lines… believed to have jumped off the roof of a nearby building… reports remain unclear as to how this accident occurred… The Sweater Family have been involved in a string of incidents… Boston Police Department are investigating the incident as a possible homicide.” I put down the paper and sighed. Though I really wanted to walk away from the Sweaters and their lives, something drew me into this mystery. There was something more about this case… something that intrigued me.
Walking out of the office and taking the elevator to the lobby, I walked out onto Beacon Street. I needed some fresh air and a place to think things through. My legs continued to take me down Beacon Street and then across the road to Arlington. The familiar Public Garden greeted me and I walked straight through the gates towards the George Washington monument.
“Afternoon, Mr Washington,” I said as I began walking along the path that circled around the monument. “Today I have a new problem for you.” I looked at the statue of the first American president on his horse, while I continued circling. “The Sweaters have just lost another family member, Fedelia – that leaves Silvester, Bernard and Cadence. You know how I tried to help them out a year back to solve the case of their family issues; well now Silvester came back trying to get me to re-join their efforts. And you see, Mr Washington, I’m kind of thinking that I should – but there’s still the big problem of them not telling me everything…”
An old man walked by with his wife. They looked me over, probably wondering if I was just a crazy person talking to myself, I guess I wasn’t sure either. Just then I stopped and turned to look at the monument, only my eyes looked directly past it at a bright gleam of sunlight reflecting off one of the buildings.
“I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars.” I repeated the words that Nero had written all over his apartment, as my eyes adjusted to the beam of light reflecting off the John Hancock Tower. “I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars. Thank you, Mr Washington.”
Mod
• Have a deaf character. Include the City of Boston in some way.
• Have this sentence somewhere in it... I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars
• Include these words, each at least 5 times: Foreboding, Jump, Sweater, Nine
• Have a character named Silvester
and...
• Have plot twist I will never see coming...
Deadline: March 19th
MISDIRECTION
Part 3: A Revealing Sweater
I raced back to my office and went across to the filing cabinet. Fumbling with my keys, I finally found the one I was looking for and unlocked the cabinet. These were all of the unsolved cases and the biggest file had to do with the Sweater family. I flicked through the mass of pages; from when the Sweaters first graced the pages of magazines and tabloid newspapers right through to their eventual deaths.
“Sloan?” a woman called from the corridor.
“Yep,” I answered, as I continued to leaf through the file.
The door opened and Destiny walked in. “I hear Sweater has asked for your help again. What did you find?”
“Well, they’re definitely hiding something,” I stated without looking up at her. “I’m surprised you haven’t found anything more.”
“Hey, I tried using my methods, but you and the Commander think that they’re somewhat unethical.”
I looked up at her and gave a grin. “Like that’s ever stopped you before.”
She flicked her dark brown hair behind her ear and took a seat on the desk, before kicking off her high heels. “So, where are we at with them?”
“Aha!” I cheered, as I pulled out the articles I had been looking for.
“What’s that?” Destiny asked, as she leaned across to scan the magazine. “Silvestro looks to the stars.” She read, “That’s the father, isn’t it?”
I nodded, “This might be the clue we need.” I opened up the magazine to the page about the Sweaters. “Hmm… here! Silvestro Sweater has always enjoyed the limelight, but was in a bit of trouble after a night out with other high society guests turned scary… ‘He said he was going to jump! But he was laughing while he was pretending to jump off the ledge. It was really frightening!’ a party-goer exclaimed…”
Destiny sighed, as she readjusted her position on my desk. “You really believe that trash – a party-goer using the term really frightening? The magazine probably just decided they needed to back up their story with apparent evidence, so they concocted this party-goer to help build the story.” She said, brushing aside the article with a wave of her hand.
“No, look here,” I responded getting to the part that I had been looking for, “… Silvestro was escorted off the building ledge by two police officers and a fireman… he was inebriated but unhurt… ‘I was just going to show them that I could reach the stars’ Sweater told everyone while being led away from the party by his entourage… Boston Police Department have not filed charges.”
“I still don’t get it.” Destiny said, while sliding off the table and re-adjusting her skirt.
“Nero Sweater was apparently pushed out of his apartment window last year. He had the phrase I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars painted nine times in each room of the house.” I explained, before showing Destiny the magazine, “Then there’s this magazine that reported that Silvestro, the Sweater patriarch, said that he wanted to show everyone that he could reach the stars – that was nine years ago!”
“So you’re saying that Silvestro killed his son?” Destiny questioned skeptically, as she grabbed the magazine and waved it in front of me. “Sloan, you do know that Silvestro is dead, don’t you?”
I nodded, while taking the magazine back from her and handing her another article. “The wife – Leandra’s death. No sign of struggle, just nine bullets to the chest.”
“So the number nine is important here?” Destiny suggested.
I shrugged, “Could be, but that’s not the point.” I gestured to the article. “The uncle confessed to the murder, but claimed that it was not an act of violence. He died running into police bullets, shouting ‘She was meant to stop me!’ That’s got me thinking about all the other deaths… What if Nero wasn’t pushed but…”
A phone suddenly rang startling both of us.
“It’s me.” Destiny said, as she turned a dial on her watch. “Yes, Commander?”
“Are you still with, Sloan?” A static filled voice spoke from the watch.
“Yes, sir.” Destiny replied.
“And what’s the verdict on the Sweater case?”
Destiny looked at me and raised her eyebrow. “Well… he thinks he has a lead…”
“And what do you think?” the Commander asked, in a tone that seemed almost upset with what was happening.
Destiny shrugged and glanced at me again, before returning to the watch. “I’m not sure, sir. But Sloan’s the one who can unravel it if anyone can.”
“Yes, but he also gave up a year ago!”
Destiny looked at me, waiting for my response. The Commander and I had been at odds about this over the past year and he obviously still wasn’t going to let it go. “We’ll follow the lead and get back to you ASAP, sir.” She responded, ready to cut the call.
“Destiny,” the Commander stated in his most authoritarian voice, although some of its effectiveness was lost in the static. “Follow the lead and then kill it. You know how Sloan gets when he becomes transfixed on something. He’s been onto this one for way too long. The City of Boston doesn’t need him chasing Sweaters; we have bigger fish to catch – understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Destiny replied. “If the lead goes cold, I’ll bring Sloan back in.”
“Thank you, Destiny.” The Commander signed off.
“Well, you heard the man, Sloan. We follow this lead and then we kill it.” She repeated the Commander’s words, as she put her shoes back on. “Let’s go and figure this out now, so I can get home and take these heels off for good.”
I placed the magazine back in the file. “For this one we’ll need Najwa. Pick her up and get over to the Sweaters. I think Cadence has something to say.”
“No, problem,” Destiny replied, heading for the door, “As long as I’m not going to disturb Najwa from one of her freaky rituals.”
Once Destiny left the office, I picked up the phone and dialled. There were five rings before someone answered. “Hello, Sweater residence. May I ask who is speaking?”
“Put Silvester on the phone.” I told the man.
“Who is this?” The man demanded.
“It’s Sloan. Now you’re the butler, so get your butt over to Silvester and put him on!” I commanded more forcefully this time.
“Uh… yes, sir… right away, sir.” The butler left the phone and I was left listening to his footsteps echoing on the marble floor. It took less than a minute before I heard footsteps returning.
“Mr Sloan?” The familiar desperate voice came over the phone. “It’s Bernard… I don’t know where he is, but… he’s… I think they got him!”
“Sweater, listen up. Gather the rest of your family and wait for me. We’re gonna stop this, before all of you fools are dead!”
“But… I think Kolton’s taken Bernard!” He exclaimed.
“I’m coming over. Get Cadence,” I ordered before putting down the phone. Throwing on my overcoat, I left the office and raced across to the lift. Getting off at the lobby, I raced out of the building and hailed a cab.
Mod
• Have a deaf character. Include the City of Boston in some way.
• Have this sentence somewhere in it... I felt that if I could only reach higher, I could touch the stars
• Include these words, each at least 5 times: Foreboding, Jump, Sweater, Nine
• Have a character named Silvester
and...
• Have plot twist I will never see coming...
Deadline: March 19th
Completed: February 28th
MISDIRECTION
Part 4: Unravelled Sweaters
By the time I got to the Sweater Family home, Destiny was already parked outside. She climbed out of her pick-up truck upon recognising me getting out of the cab.
“About time you got here.” Destiny called, as she walked over to me.
“Najwa with you?” I asked, as I strode up to the gate of the Sweater manor.
“Sure is.” Destiny replied, “Najwa! Get over here!”
I stopped in my tracks and turned to Destiny. “She’s deaf. She won’t hear you.”
A wry smile came across Destiny’s face. “I know she’s deaf, Sloan, but she can hear me just fine.”
I peered across to the pick-up truck and noticed that she was right; Najwa climbed out of the passenger side door and slammed it shut. With her long dark purple robes dragging across the floor, it seemed as though Najwa was almost gliding across to us, even though I knew she wasn’t.
I signalled a greeting to her and she nodded her hooded head. I could only see the whites of her eyes, as the rest of her facial features were hidden deep within her hood. “Destiny let her know that I need the Sweaters covered.”
“The butler?” Destiny asked.
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t think so. But you keep him under observation.”
I led the two ladies through the now opened gates and towards the front door. Finally understanding what it was that had happened to the Sweater family, I had a renewed purpose, one which I had lost almost a year ago… not lost – taken from me.
I didn’t have to ring the door-bell; the butler was already waiting for us. He bowed politely and ushered us into the grand main hall, across the marble floor and into a sitting room where Cadence and Silvester were waiting. Cadence sat as she had in Nero’s apartment a year or so ago, while her brother paced up and down, only to walk right up to me and greet me with a warm, eager handshake.
“I’m so glad you changed your mind about this.” He said with a forced smile to conceal his fear. “We’ll pay you good money…”
“I don’t want your money.” I said, cutting him off. Silvester took several steps back, as Najwa entered the room. Destiny stayed in the doorway with the butler. I observed Cadence, who seemed a little shocked, with her eyes flicking between me and Najwa.
“Who is she?” Cadence questioned, with a hint of annoyance.
“This is Najwa. She’s here to help me, so I don’t leave this case unsolved once again.” I said with a gleam in my eye. Cadence’s eyes shot back a cold look. “Najwa is deaf to the world, but she shares her gift – allowing everyone to become deaf to their world.”
“I can hear just fine.” Cadence shot back, eyeing off the hooded woman.
“Yes, so can I.” I said with a smile.
“He’s obviously assembled a team to help us,” Silvester stated, feeling a little uneasily. “We’re going to be okay, sis.”
I shook my head. “You might be, Silvester. Cadence on the other hand…”
Silvester turned to his youngest living sibling and then back to me. “What do you mean?” He turned to his sister once more. “Cadence, what does he mean?” Then back to me. “Are you accusing her of murdering my family? Our family?”
I shrugged. “I was hoping she could tell us the story, because some of them don’t add up.”
Silvester dramatically turned to his sister once again. “Cadence?”
She sat in silence, but I could sense the hate emanating from her pores.
“Let me tell you what I’ve deciphered so far.” I began, which got Silvester’s attention once more. “I know about your family’s secret. We’ve known it for years. The reason I approached you was because of your father’s death leap from the aeroplane.”
Silvester looked nervous. Cadence showed no emotion.
“We’d spoken to your father a month before his jump. Told him that we were willing to train him, but the stubborn old fool said that he would do it himself, so instead of flying, he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Since then we had to find out whether any of his children were exhibiting the same powers, but we didn’t want to simply come out and ask… well, considering that we don’t want the world to know about us.”
“So… so you can fly too?” Silvester questioned.
I shook my head. “Not me. I’ve got a brain that can solve things at a quicker rate than most.”
“Most? You mean anything.” Destiny interrupted, “Think of him as a computer on steroids.”
I smiled. “Destiny over there can manipulate minds, read minds and knows over twenty different types of martial arts. Now I don’t know whether the fighting skills are a power of hers as such, but if she knows what you’re going to do as you think it and can then change your mind before beating the crap out of you in twenty different styles; I’d say that that makes her quite lethal.”
“And… and… her?” Silvester pointed to Najwa.
“As I said, Najwa is deaf, but she makes others deaf to their abilities. If you were to try and fly right now, well you’d end up like your deceased siblings.”
Silvester scanned the room, possibly waiting for someone to jump out and call, “You’ve just been Punk’d”, but it didn’t happen. “So how come it’s taken you so long to figure this out, if you’re meant to be such a brain?”
Cadence moved uncomfortably. “I was wondering that myself. Your mother died after being shot nine times by your uncle. I’ll wager your uncle held no malice towards your mother, but she was able to manipulate people’s minds and quite possibly had some form of telekinesis… like your sister. Your mother couldn’t control her powers either and tried something too dangerous too soon.”
Silvester stared in horror at Cadence. “Is this true? Did you murder them all?”
Cadence sighed in frustration and disappointment at being caught out. “Not all of them. Zea flew to the top of the bridge on her own, but because she didn’t have full control of her powers, she just lost it and fell. Same with Aaron.”
“But he fell with Cato.” Silvester said without thinking.
“I manipulated Cato’s mind. I told him to fly up to the very top of the building and fall off. Aaron was stupid enough to follow him, probably tried to stop him on the way down and lost control. I didn’t need Aaron dead – just like I didn’t need Zea dead.”
“Didn’t need them dead? Why should any of them have been murdered?” Silvester sat down on the couch trying to absorb all of this new information.
“That’s an easy one,” I answered. “You’re sister wanted to inherit the Sweater fortune. With all of the older siblings out of the way, she would have control of the fortune.”
“Money?” Silvester rose from the couch and turned on Cadence. “You killed them all because of money? Why would you do that? We’ve got all the money we need! I would have given you your share! You just needed to ask!”
“I wasn’t going for a share, Silvester, I wanted it all!” Cadence shouted, “All these years you were all wondering whether I was truly part of this family because I couldn’t fly like father could. You never knew about mother – did you? But I had my suspicions. And then when my powers developed, I figured I would show you just what I could do.”
“She even manipulated my mind to make me get off the case.” I interjected.
“You were getting too close. I couldn’t have you getting in the way.” Cadence snapped.
“Well, now you’re going to jail.” I told her.
Cadence smiled. “How are you going to keep me there? Will the little leech be sitting in my cell for the rest of my life?”
The robed woman came forward and extended her hand. “Najwa will make you deaf to your powers. You will not hear them calling to you any longer. Najwa will see that they remain in the dark void, never to be reawakened.” Her haunting voice explained, as her hand shot over Cadence’s forehead. Cadence shrieked for a second, but then collapsed.
“What did you do to her?” Silvester ran to his sister’s side. “Will she live?”
“Don’t worry, she’ll remember everything upon waking and then she’ll torture herself trying to get her powers back. She’ll have a tough time in prison.” I told him.
“Um… excuse me, Mr Sweater. Your brother is on the phone. Um… he found himself standing on Nero’s balcony and was unsure as to how he got there. He is a little shaken by the incident, sir. I sent a driver out to pick him up. He should be here soon.” The butler passed on.
“Bernard lives?” He sighed with relief, “Thank, god!”
“So what will you do now?” I asked the eldest Sweater.
“I guess we still need help with our powers.” Silvester stated, “But we have a lot more to deal with at the moment.”
I tipped my hat at him. “Well, you know where to find us when you need it.” I left the manor with Destiny and Najwa and let the Commander know of the outcome.
“What did he say?” Destiny questioned, as she started her pick-up truck.
“Well, he didn’t apologise, if that’s what you’re asking. But he did say that we should go and celebrate with a big batch of freshly baked cookies and milk.” I said, much to Destiny’s surprise. “He just pulled them out of the oven.”
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go.” Destiny said mockingly, as she put the truck into gear and drove back into Boston.
Interesting plot twist, I never would have guessed they had super powers.
Mod
Yup, great job, it kept me intriqued all the way through the end, which is hard to do, considering I have ADHD.
Travis wrote: RESORTS, BEACHES & GEORGE: A MonologueI really like these George ones. You should start a series!
Travis wrote: "MISDIRECTION"Wow! Loved it! I never saw that ending coming. I thought that Silvester was killing them off and trying to hide it by hiring a detective. Well done with the twist :)
Mod
Glad to have kept your attention :)
Mod
Deadline: March 28th
Completed: March 8th
THE RISE OF D.U.S.K
Lifting the grate, she shoved it across and leaped out, then raced out of the alley and into the brightly lit main street.
“Where did she go?” The T.U.S.K. Agent called as he climbed out of the underground tunnel.
“Don’t tell me we lost her again!” Sergeant Rashid screamed, as he hauled himself out of the hole; puffing as he rolled his great bulk along the ground, before getting to his feet. “She needs to be caught!”
“Well, she is pretty fast.” The T.U.S.K. Agent pointed out while holstering his gun.
He didn’t expect the whack across the head that he received from the sergeant. “She can run fast? That’s all you can say! Go out there and get her!” He ordered, before turning to yell down the manhole. “The rest of you – get your butts up here and track her down!”
Within a matter of minutes all eight T.U.S.K. Agents were out of the manhole and gathered in the alley.
“Where did she go, sir?” A young agent adjusted his helmet, before powering up his weapon.
“That’s your job, agent!” Sergeant Rashid shouted angrily, before turning on the rest. “What the hell are you getting paid for when you can’t catch an eight-year-old girl? You’re meant to be T.U.S.K. Agents – that’s what that elephant symbol on your uniforms signifies! You are Trackers of Unwanted Street Kids – you get paid to track and capture street kids! But they seem to be outsmarting you!” Sergeant Rashid breathed hard, as he attempted to catch his breath.
“Well, you’re not doing a good job catching them yourself.” One agent mumbled to a second.
The sergeant’s face turned a darker shade as he stepped threateningly towards the agent. “Did you have something to say, Agent Sheno?” The man shook his head. Sergeant Rashid gritted his teeth and swung his fist into Agent Sheno’s helmet. As Sheno fell to the ground, Rashid spun around to the other agents. “I have been on this force since its inception in 2989! That’s nine years! Nine years and the Indiasian society still has to deal with street kids pilfering food and livestock from the hard working communities! It is our job as T.U.S.K. agents to capture them and find their worth in society!” He adjusted his gauntlet and looked down at Agent Sheno, who was slowly recovering from the blow. “Get up!” The sergeant ordered, “The gauntlet was only set to stun!” When the agent did not react to the command quickly enough, Sergeant Rashid kicked him. “Somebody get him on his feet and then all of you get out there and round up some street kids!”
The agents organised themselves immediately and raced out onto the main street, leaving Sergeant Rashid to his thoughts. At first the big man muttered to himself about the manner in which the T.U.S.K. Force conducted itself, but then he decided to slide the manhole cover back over the entrance to the underground tunnel. Moving the cover would have been a lot easier if the man’s bulk did not get in the way, but he persisted and when it finally fell into place, Sergeant Rashid was dripping with sweat and trying to catch his breath.
“Tee-hee-hee.”
The sergeant turned and lifted his head to see where the giggle was coming from. At the entrance to the alley stood the girl that they had been chasing; she was eight years-old and wore the remnants of an ancient World War IV uniform. Sergeant Rashid grabbed at his multi-blaster and powered it up.
The girl smiled. “D.U.S.K. is coming,” she told him and then raced out of the alley.
The sergeant fired his blaster. It hit the corner of the wall and sprayed bits of brick debris out onto the main street. “Get back here, girl!” He yelled, as he moved as quickly as his tremendous size would allow him.
Just as he neared the end of the alley the sound of a clang alerted him to something approaching from above. A dark silhouette came crashing down on him feet first. He had no time to react and came crashing down to the ground. When he reorientated himself, he noticed a pair of black boots at street level which, when he looked up, merged into a black one-piece uniform with silver and pink piping. As he sat up, Sergeant Rashid found himself looking at a girl of about nine or ten years of age and long black flowing hair, which blew in the warm night breeze.
“You… you know that striking… an… an agent of T.U.S.K. is punishable by death.” Sergeant Rashid stuttered in the midst of trying to lift himself off the ground. The girl said nothing, but produced two power batons in each hand, both about the length of her forearms. The threatening gesture made the sergeant scour the alley for his weapon, but he could not see his blaster anywhere. As he got to his feet, he powered up his gauntlets to mortal damage. “The curfew has been in place for three hours now and you should not be out on the street. Who do you think you are, girl?”
“My name is Samira.” The girl said in a thick Central Indiasian accent. “I am D.U.S.K.” And without warning she powered up her baton and let loose a barrage of hits all over the sergeant’s body.
His reaction time was way too slow and as Samira flipped back to where she had started, Sergeant Rashid simply stood there swaying. “Is… is that… all?” The way Rashid put forward this question was almost with a hint of surprise and fear put together.
“You have less than a minute. I have just hit several pressure points and you will…”
Before she had finished her sentence, the sergeant’s bladder and bowels gave way and he soiled himself. Then he vomited violently and a gush of the day’s meals mixed with bile and blood gushed out. Finally his eyes bulged, his legs gave way and he came crashing down into his own effluent.
“The street kids need a defender – I am D.U.S.K.” she told the lifeless body of the sergeant, before she sheathed her batons and collected the sergeant’s blaster from beside the Recyclo-dumpster, then scaled the wall and disappeared.
Love it. Futuristic India. Did not expect that. I would definitely read more if this if you wrote it. It left me with so many questions
Who is Samira?
What is DUSK?
What happened during WWIV?
Are street kids really a big enough problem to make an entire government agency?
Why is the Sargent such a jerk?
To name a few
Who is Samira?
What is DUSK?
What happened during WWIV?
Are street kids really a big enough problem to make an entire government agency?
Why is the Sargent such a jerk?
To name a few
Mod
But for now, this is what I know: D.U.S.K. - Defenders of Unwanted Street Kids
Back during WWIV, India's population was so big that it needed more land. As there was no more land to inhabit, India had to invade the poorer surrounding countries, which led to war. Other countries found they had the same problem. Anyway, by the end of the war, India became Indiasia, I'm sure there were other countries that were overrun too, but I'll figure that out soon enough.
Due to the scarcity of food and money, Indiasia became a classist society. The poorer people were forced onto the streets, so there are many homeless people. The police force ignored most homeless people's issues and dealt with them violently. Even street kids weren't immune to these violent acts. However in 2981AD a woman called Mother Shakti took in the street kids and began training them to fight back. She created a group of resistance fighters in the form of children to steal from the rich and give to the poor. That's why T.U.S.K. was set up.
I'll update you further when I know what's happening.
Thanks for the challenge.
Ohh like a sci-fi kid version of Robin Hood. Thats sounds epic. I totally wan to read more.
Mod
Deadline: April 3rd
Completed: March 22nd
COPPER SUN: Prologue
This is a story about life, as much as it is about death. They say "death comes to all", but that isn’t always true. "Death comes to some" is a more apt term, but now death is coming to those that deserve it will be what the record-keepers will create stories about.
Since the Never War the world has become a barren landscape, patched with areas of towns where there are people living their lives without any knowledge of what happened. Nesting amongst the rubble of the once proud city of Angeles, we fill our lives with work, trying to make a safe haven to keep out the beasts and ravagers.
There are thirty-seven people in our tribe; it is quite large compared to most. We have two record-keepers, Grandfather Gormez and Grandmother Kalitan. They are not my grandparents by blood; they are the story holders of the tribe – grandparents to all. Both record-keepers survived the Never War – Grandfather was just fourteen-years-old then and Grandmother was twenty-one. It is hard to imagine them that young, especially now, sixty-eight years later, with their gnarled features and leather-like skin. The record-keepers are the elders of the tribe; I will never be one, because my fate was sealed at birth.
My father, Boralis Bastion, says that both our record keepers were infected by the Great Copper Sun, so now they can never die. “They will live for eternity,” he says, “Until the Great Copper Sun returns and carries them away.” I don’t feed into father’s religious rants. He is the tribe’s Sun-Walker; working closely with the record-keepers, he listens to their stories and preaches about the Great Copper Sun. He will be the next record-keeper if, by some slim chance, he lives longer than Grandfather and Grandmother. Medea, his scribe, will then become the next Sun-Walker and continue his learning from my father. I should have been the next Sun-Walker, but my fate was sealed at birth.
My mother was taken by ravagers when I was only two-years-old. Women are held in high esteem in this world, especially when they are at their most fertile. “Without the women, there is no tribe.” Father would preach, “This is why we must give our lives for them.” There are thirteen women in our tribe and two girls that are yet to come of age. My best friend, Leoness, just went through the Bleeding Ceremony. She is now of age and will soon be paired off. All seven unpaired males from the tribe are just hoping that they get chosen to be with her. I am one of the unpaired, but I will never be chosen since my fate was sealed at birth.
Once paired, they must consummate the pairing with a child. When this is done, the male will be sent off to complete his training as a warrior – defender of the tribe. For all boys, training begins at the age of five, and will only cease until death. We currently have six warriors; Glaif Helman is the head-warrior and is our general when we go to war against the ravagers who try to take us.
Before the Never War, our Grandmother taught us about the enemy. They were called The Corporations and they ran everything from the food we ate to the life we led. When people began going against the Corporations and creating their own food and leading their own lives, things began to get out of control. The Never War destroyed everything, except the large tower forts that house the Corporations’ employees. It is said that the leaders of the Corporations have found a way to live forever. That is how they survived the Never War.
It was called the Never War, because it was never a war to begin with. The Corporations didn’t like what was happening to the world and decided to change it by setting off explosions that awoke the Great Copper Sun from his slumber. He heated the world, burning anyone who could not find shelter. Now the Corporations employ ravagers to collect the survivors. Glaif Helman was the only one from our tribe who has ever escaped and returned. He says that all the Corporations want is for us to rebuild our lives under their thumb. He also says that that is not something that he will ever allow to happen.
I told you earlier… this story is about life as much as it is about death. My fate has been sealed at birth. I have been in training since I was able to walk. I am bred to fear nothing, but I still know what it is like to fear. I am bred to be a superior warrior, better than Glaif Helman, yet Helman still has power over me. I am bred to not know love, yet Leoness is the girl that I have always loved. I am bred to escape death – when I am cut, the Great Copper Sun heals me, yet death will come for me sooner than the others. There are three of us in my tribe. We are trained by The Unknown – a man who came to our tribe to save us from the ravagers. A man who knows about death and rebirth. A man who has made us living weapons against the might of The Corporations – if only for the short time that we will be on this plane of existence.
From birth I was thoroughly examined, as all of us were. The Great Copper Sun had touched me while still in my mother’s womb. They say that I will die before my fifteenth year.
My name is Tyraid Bastion and I am a Deadwalker.
ohhhh, I would definitely read this Travis, very interesting.
Mod
All that goes up eventually comes down
Deadline: March 29th
Completed: March 27th
ALL THAT GOES UP EVENTUALLY COMES DOWN
“All that goes up eventually comes down” – that is what was inscribed on the elevator door as
I waited for the lift to reach the 28th floor of the building. Floor 1… 2… 3… 4… It glared at me mockingly, knowing full well that I hated those words. This was meant to be my time to shine, but another was thrust into the limelight.
“All that goes up eventually comes down” – I read the inscription on the elevator door again, as the lift stopped to pick up passengers. Floor 5… 6… 7… 8… It laughed at me, just as the rest of them had when I questioned their choice at the board meeting. How could someone who has worked themselves ragged at the company be overshadowed by a nobody who has just had three weeks experience?
“All that goes up eventually comes down” – the inscription continued to taunt me. Floor 9… 10… 11… 12… I was the one who brought this business out of obscurity. I was the one who used some clever marketing propaganda to get people to take notice! I was the one that the boss patted on the back and said those words that I’ll never forget; “Bob, you’re on the way up. Next position that becomes vacant – it’s yours! For most people, the sky’s the limit, Bob, but you have another destiny – you’re rocketing to outer space!” I laughed with him during that encounter… things were looking good.
“All that goes up eventually comes down” – I looked away from the inscription, although my eyes always came back to it. Floor 13… 14… 15… 16… I was the one who brought this business out of obscurity! I was the one who made the boss the fortune that he’s sitting on today! And when a position became vacant, all the boss could say was “Sorry, Bob – we’re going for something fresher.”
“All that goes up eventually comes down” – I scowl at the inscription, as the lift stops again to pick up passengers and drop a few off. Floor 17… 18… 19… 20… “Don’t be angry about it, Bob, there’ll be other opportunities.” That’s what everyone keeps telling me – but I don’t want to wait for other opportunities! This was my opportunity! I was the one who was meant to be rocketing to outer space! Instead, I’m still on the fourth floor making everyone on the 28th floor look good.
“All that goes up eventually comes down” – The lift stops to pick up two people. They block my view of the inscription. Floor 21… 22… 23… 24…. People get off the lift and the inscription stares back at me. I shouldn’t be here. I should be up there with the other high-end executives. I should always be making this trip up the elevator. This was my opportunity! I was the one who brought this business out of obscurity! How do they not reward that? Why is it that others get rewarded before me?
“All that goes up eventually comes down” – Floor 25… 26… 27… 28… ping! I step out of the lift and make my way across to the boss’s office. “I’m sorry, you don’t have an appointment.” His secretary says, as I storm past her and into the office.
“Bob? What do you think you’re doing?” The boss questions with a hint of anger, “You can see that I’m in with someone.”
I couldn’t see past the rage, but when I looked I saw – him!
“I was the one who brought this business out of obscurity!” I shouted, “You said that I’m on the way up. The next position that becomes vacant was mine! My destiny was beyond the sky – I was rocketing to outer space!”
“Now, Bob, calm down. We had to pick the right person for the position and… well, it just wasn’t… you.” The boss explained.
“Bob, I know you’re angry…” The rookie decided to stand up and intervene.
“Shut up! Shut the hell up!” I yelled at him. He sat back down with his hands up in submission, as I diverted my attention back to the boss. “You need to get rid of him and give me the position that I was destined to have! The next position was mine! This was the next position!”
“Bob, you need to calm down. We’re going to get security up here, if you don’t calm down.” The boss stated, as he walked around his desk towards me. “You need to understand that in business, sometimes things are said in the midst of a moment – you can’t take it all as gospel.”
“Moment? A moment?” I cocked my arm back, “Take this as a moment!” I threw my fist square into his jaw. His head snapped back and he fell… down… down… down.
I left the bewildered rookie cowering in his seat, next to the unconscious body of the boss. I walked past the secretary, who was busy on her phone calling security. I walked past all of the employees who came out to see the ruckus on the 28th floor. I walked into the elevator, pressed the button for the ground floor and grinned. Floor 28… 27… 26… 25… “All that goes up eventually comes down”.
I especially enjoyed when he punched the guy
Mod
I wasn't sure whether he was going to throw him out of the building, because in that way the boss would have been up and then come down, but I thought that I'd just leave it as an assault charge rather than a murder.
Mod
"... and the roses fell from your hand".
Deadline: April 30th
Completed: April 15th
THE ROSES
I’ve been there all along; right through your journey. Now you stand alone in this cemetery. I guess it never occurred to you that I felt that way. I guess you would never be able to understand what you were doing… and now you stare into the abyss, hoping that it will take it all away.
You were always laughing and saying things that amused you and the rest of the group – I joined in so as not to be left out. But you went too far! You stepped over the line and now you need to deal with the consequences of your actions! How will you do this now? You have nothing… just a pitiful wooden box and a handful of roses!
Why did you have to be like that? Why did we go along with you? Whenever you weren’t around, we talked about what an idiot we thought you were. We’d never say it to your face, just in case we were next on your radar – deep down, we always knew what you were like. I guess that made us as ridiculous as you at times. But we had the common sense to change it at the end… you wouldn’t follow! You just wouldn’t listen! You had to continue taking it that one step further each time… and now you close your eyes, hoping that it’ll hide away what you’ve done. It won’t! I won’t let it!
It doesn’t matter what happens next. Everyone in our inner circle knows what you did. Everyone in our inner circle feels responsible in some way. Everyone in our inner circle knows that you were in the wrong. We’ve turned from you – even though it’s probably too late. I will never forgive you… I can’t say how the others feel about this, but they probably feel the same. No amount of roses are going to sweeten your foul actions – you can keep them and be buried with them for all I care!
You shouldn’t even be here. Not where you are now, anyway. You should swap places with me… that way you can live through the torment that I had to go through again and again. But you’ll eventually hide it away in the back of your mind – the roses are meant to be your penance. They’re not enough! No amount of roses will add up to forgiveness – I hope you rot in hell for what you’ve done!
This will be the last time I see your face… well, that’s what you think as you shed a few silent tears. I’ll make sure I torment you forever. I know I won’t see you in this cemetery again. It’ll be the way you hide those memories. The roses should be enough to conceal the deed… you’ve had enough… enough of me being in your head… enough of the reminders…
I watch you and your roses turn away from the grave. Maybe you have decided that the roses will never be enough? You turn back. Your tear-streaked face begging for forgiveness. I promised that I would never do that… you’ll have to live with it. One more loud sob… still unforgiven… there’s nothing more you can do here. Make whatever peace you believe you’re going to get from me and leave. One last cry for forgiveness… Just leave…
You turned away… and the roses fell from your hand.
Mod
Deadline: August 29th
Completed: August 12th
GAME OF THE GODS
“Your move, Aurielus.”
The God of the Skies rubbed his chin and grinned, as he looked over the globe. His hand hovered over one of the continents on the globe, but just as suddenly sat back. “If I was to send a hurricane over your continent, there is a good chance that some of my players will be killed…” He looked over the globe again and rubbed his chin once more. “It seems you have me at a loss, Selinity. I cannot lose my warrior now…” He raised an eyebrow and sighed, as he studied the globe, “… not now, anyway.”
The Goddess of the Moon brought a chalice of wine to her lips and took a sip. “Well, my sweet, if you are to win at this game, you need to learn to lose a few pawns.”
Aurielus shifted uncomfortably, “Pawns – yes, but warriors… that is different – especially one such as Kullen Strongpaw…”
The grand oak doors suddenly screeched open, causing Aurielus and Selinity to look up. Two guards entered flying the banner of the Flame, which promptly announced the entrance of Fangar, the God of Fire and Forge. “My King,” He bowed his head to the Sky God and then turned to the Moon Goddess, “My Queen.”
Aurielus nodded at the god. “Lord Fangar, what brings you here?”
Fangar pointed to the globe set in front of his two counterparts. “Have you seen it?”
Selinity looked at the globe baffled. Aurielus did the same.
“What are we to be looking for, Fangar?” Selinity questioned, this time spinning the globe to study its different regions.
“The Vyquins… the northern folk!” Fangar shouted angrily, “The Vyquins have found the secret of the forge! Helinis has apparently shown them how to make weapons! I should be the one arming the humans for the game!”
Aurielus spun the globe to reveal a tiny island nation close to the top of the sphere. “Hmm… so they have…”
“Your damned son has broken the rules!” The Fire God declared.
“Control your tongue, Fangar,” Aurielus stressed emphatically, “Understand with whom you are speaking.”
The Fire God attempted to supress his rage.
“You say Helinis has shown them how to make weapons?” Selinity asked, before drinking from her chalice once more.
Fangar nodded, “That is what I said, my Queen.”
“And how did he learn how to use the forge?”
“I… uh… I gave him a demonstration…”
“Mmm-hmm,” Selinity nodded with some interest, “And did you not think that if you demonstrated this to my son, that he would not be his highly ambitious self and take it to the game?”
“Well, I…” Fangar stumbled on his words until his thoughts collected themselves, “It is against the rules of the game. I make the weapons, the players barter for my weapons and send them out into the game… the humans should not have this knowledge!”
Aurielus inspected the island nation once more and then sat back in his chair. “The rules state that you make the weapons and we send them out, but there has never been a rule about the humans making their own weapons…”
“That’s because they shouldn’t be making them!” Fangar cut in, “They are too primitive to realise the destruction that the forge may cause!”
“I will speak to my son about his lack of thought, but he is still in the game. No rule was broken, only a god’s pride.” Aurielus laid down his verdict, before looking over the tiny nation once more. “Besides, Helinis is rules over one tiny nation… merely two thousand in number… his Vyquins are no real threat. If you must, forge a few enchanted weapons and send your best warriors to kill them off. The Vyquins weapons seem primitive enough… they are just learning.”
“I’ll do more than that – I’ll burn them!” The Fire God proclaimed, before turning and striding out of the throne room.
Selinity rubbed her forehead. “Between him and Helinis, I think I have my fair share of fire gods.”
Aurielus reached across and patted his wife’s hand. “Helinis is the God of the Sun… our son… he will have his tantrum once Fangar deals with his pawns, but in the end all shall be well.” He sat back again and returned the globe to his own focus nation. “Well, will you look at that – Kullen has decided to leave the country!” The Sky God announced with a gleam in his eye, “Now I can destroy it!”
Deadline: February 17th
Completed: February 7th
THIS IS WHO I AM
A blast… screams amongst the debris… I want to run… the girl and her toy bear… she cries out before being consumed by the falling building… the walls close in on me… darkness…
A gasp and I wake up screaming.
“You’re awake.” A stern female voice has me turning to my left. The pain burns through my neck and I only just realise that I can only see through my left eye, with the rest of my face bandaged up. As my mind frees me from the haunting images, I can see that I am in a large room, possibly underground. There are no visible windows, only a single light swings dimly above me. The woman is dressed in black military fatigues and is wearing a balaclava. She looks me over. I wonder what she sees. The pain would be too excruciating to sit up and have a look myself.
“I’m looking for Ridgemont Sledge. He was in hiding in one of the apartments. Do you know anything about that?”
I shake my head instinctively, only realising my predicament when the pain shoots through my neck and into my brain. “ARGH!” I cry out.
“Yeah, you might not want to move too much. So just lay there and talk.” She says nonchalantly, as she moves closer and I notice the pistol she is carrying in her right hand. “First thing’s first – your name?”
“My name is… My name is…” I strain myself trying to think, but it doesn’t come. “I… I don’t know.”
The woman looks at me skeptically then shakes her head. “Memory loss? That’s all I need.” She spins the pistol around her pointer finger, as she rubs her masked forehead. “Alright, we blasted a building that Sledge was said to be hiding in. You were one of two survivors that we could find. I just want to know if you knew Sledge and where he might be hiding. You tell me that, we get you to a hospital.”
“There was a girl… with… with a toy bear. Is she safe?” I notice the woman’s eyes light up beneath the balaclava. “Look, I don’t remember much… I… I remember a blast… the building falling and… and this girl with a toy bear… the building fell on us… that’s all I know.”
“You know this girl?”
I strain to think, but frustration takes over. “No… no, I don’t think so… I… I don’t know! I can’t remember anything before the blast or anything after the building fell… not until I got here!”
“The problem I’ve got is that you have no I.D., no distinguishing marks – nothing to say who you really are. You could be one of Sledge’s men and not know it or you might be just another unlucky citizen, like the many that Sledge has killed over the years. ”
“I don’t remember a man called ‘Sledge’… Only the girl… with the bear.”
She walks across to a desk and returns with a folder. Rifling through it, she pulls out a photo. “This her?” She places the photo in my hand. I slowly lift it. The pain is excruciating, but I finally manage to hold it up to a level that I can view the picture. It is of a man, a woman and a girl with a bear.
I gasp. “That’s her. Yes, that’s her.”
“Good.” The woman says, “You’re starting to remember. Now look at this one…” She waved a photograph of two dead women whose bodies had been pulled out of a river. “…and this one…” Another corpse, but there was no indication of whether it was a man or a woman. “…and this…” A woman hung by the neck from a building window. “Maybe you should look at all of these!” The woman screams angrily as she tosses the file at me. Images of death litter my injured body and glimpses of the past… my past… return.
“I did all this?” I question.
“You did this!” The woman says accusingly as she raises the pistol.
“This is who I am?”
The answer comes in the form of a bullet.