Wednesday, 22 October 2014

Flash Fiction

She loved being alone. She loved the solitude of her own thoughts, or not thinking at all. She also knew it would not last forever. One day she would have to be what everyone wanted her to be. Everyone except for her. But now it felt like she belonged to herself. And only herself.

What she loved the most was the river. She had a boat that had belonged to her father, and she just lay there and the river took her away. The river never took her too far and she could row home without being gone for too long. But when she did just lie there so was in heaven. All along on the water, all alone with her thoughts. Just her, the boat, the sky. 

Once she even snook out at night, the stars and moon guided her and her soul was at peace. Calm, serene.

See, there was this prophecy. Her entire life she had been told that she would fight the Demon Lord of Arustan. Her entire life she had been drilled in the art of war and fighting. No one would believe that when she put on her dress and just lay in a boat dreaming. She did not know when or why, she did not even know where Arustan was! No one knew. Still, they continued to train her and her days were filled with war. The Oracle was never wrong, had never been wrong, would never be wrong. Though her Uncle had sent out riders to every land, but no word of Arustan. But she would be needed, in time. She bloody hoped not, for she hated weapons, she hated fighting and the gruesome training. She hated it all.

Deep breaths, deep breaths. She sat up in the boat and sighed. Her thoughts did betray her from time to time. This was her peaceful time, not the time of war. Not the time of being something she wasn't. Instead she turned the rowboat around and headed home. It would soon be time for evening practice.


Part 2

"Lord Bantor has the best swordsman in the entire kingdom."
Marona tuned out the rest. Her uncle had taken her to the southern kingdom of Lavisa. She had never been there, but her benefactors (everyone in the kingdom) always wanted her to travel and learn more. So here they were. She to train with some swordsman, her uncle to do whatever he did.

2 weeks later
The light on the ocean made her calm. She had needed that. But mostly it was because of the stranger at her side. She had always been so focused on everything else that she had never imagined falling in love. How could she fall in love? All she did was fight and dream in her boat. But here she was. 

She slowly turned to him and he smiled. But his smile turned sad.
"Do not mind it."
"I have to, the prophecy..."
She put her fingers on his lips. "Please just take me away, marry me, make me your princess, but take me away. What about my happiness? My Choice? They can find another warrior, and no one even knows the bloody place anyway."
He turned an eyebrow at that and she blushed.
"If I steal you away across the ocean, trade will suffer."
"Since when does elves need humans?"
He smiled and thatv and by midnight they sailed away. Across the wide ocean, away from her fate. And she had never been happier.

The Elven kingdom across the seas welcomed her with open arms. The harbor was filled with people wanting to see their new princess. Wanting to rejoice in their prince's happiness.
“Long live Princess Marona,” they all shouted.
But they were soon brought bad news. Across the mountains, over the desert, even from beyond the deathly swamplands an army had come. An army filled with hate and destroying everything in their path.


Marona knew at once that she had sealed her own fate, and as they talked they mentioned one of the leaders. The cruelest one of them all, the demon lord of Arustan. The prophecy had been right, the prophecy had guided her here, or him to her. The prophecy was never wrong.


She was married a week later and crowned next to her prince. Then she was given a suit of armor, and the Sword of Peace. The sword bathed in flames that had won the Elves their freedom from the Gods long ago. Her prince kissed her good bye with a smile and she was sent to the front.

Saturday, 20 September 2014

Flash Fiction


 Ashran

It was said that Gods had placed these swords in the desert. In a time where Gods still walked the land, and when men still believed. Though he had a hard time believing this. When Men had settled the planet it had been empty, except for the strange stone pillars in the desert. So most likely there had been some sort of civilization that had been wiped out. As they stood now they were the line that lead to the City of Ashran. And the reason he just did not fly in was that he was wanted in the City of Ashran. Totally not his fault by the way. And then there was the slight malfunction of his ship that had made him crash. Now, everyone could have a bad day, he had had several in a row, make that several years.

Life at the frontier was brutal. As it had always been. The main government's influence did not really reach the outskirts of space. There officials set themselves up as Kings, Warlords, or whatever hell they liked to call themselves. They ruled with iron fists and he had had the misfortune of killing one of them. Ok, that had totally been his fault cos that asshole had it coming. He had walked right up to him and stabbed him in the eye, and then in a few more places. Therefore being an outlaw in Ashran. But he was back, and he had come to claim what was his. His wife.

The swords seemed to hum with the desert breeze. He did not stop, but he started to feel strange. Like every step took longer, like his anger burned a hole in his chest. Like, he stopped and fell to his knees. The pain was like nothing he had ever felt before. And then the screaming started, a thousand voices in his head at voice and he understood. He understood what the swords were. Prisons for Gods from several worlds. Prison made by a race who had lives in this galaxy long long ago. A race who had moves on millions of years ago. His anger had woken the Gods and they wanted out.

How long he lay there was anyone's guess. But when he stood again his eyes were black and his body houses a thousand Gods. He made it to Ashran before falling down dead and the Gods fled. They fed and fed, until they could take form. And then the city of Ashran lay in ruins, everyone was dead, everyone on  the planet was dead. This was the time of Gods.

Friday, 5 September 2014

Flash Fiction

The Swamp


Darkness, colors, sensing, feeling. He did not know where he was, he did not know what he was doing. He did not know anything except for suddenly feeling cold. Very cold. But everything else whirled around him and he could not feel, taste, or touch. Were his eyes open? He did not know. Did he breathe? He did not know. What madness was this? A rainbow of colors exploded before him. Suddenly he could taste salt. Then it was iron. No, that was blood. Now his body hurt and his lungs burned. He wanted to rip them out but he had no arms.
 
With a gasp his head came above water and he could not almost breathe. He coughed and green muck came out. Bloody hell! It took quite some time before he could breathe normally and then finally he remembered. He was in the Witch Swamp. He was meant to kill her but instead he had almost drowned when one of her guardian beasts attacked.
“Bloody hell,” he swore again and contemplated the loss of his sword. Another swearword and he dove to get it. He needed it to kill the witch, but this sword would never be ok again.
 
Before him the biggest tree he had ever seen stood. There inside the witch would be watching him right now. He was sure he had heard a scream while he fought the monster. Around him the murky water hid tree roots and The Gods know what else.
“Bloody witches!” He started walking the best he could and swam when needed. Sometimes he saw things move but nothing attacked. It was a bit too peaceful. When he finally made it ashore he felt 10 pounds heavier. Mud, water, blood and guts. No time for that now. The tree was before him and the door was..opening?
Hell! With his sword ready he saw someone rush out and scream.
“Don’t hurt me,” the terrified woman screamed and threw herself on the ground. She started sobbing. She was dressed in rags but he still saw her beauty.
“Who are you!?”
She looked up with big eyes and cowered. “The witch meant to steal my beauty, but she was watching you and I escaped. Please please, let me escape because if you fail to kill her I am doomed.”
He felt sorry for the poor lass and gave her his hand. She smiled, and he knew no more as she ripped his throat out.

Friday, 22 August 2014

Flash Fiction

 The lovers

Matt took her hand and held it tightly. It was a way up, but what was that now. Nothing.
"All the way up?"
She nodded and for a moment everything was ok again. They raced each other up the stairs and she won. She cheered and looked down, he was only half way up, and reality set again. With a sigh she sat down and stared up at the sky. The big big sky, not so empty now.
"I got chocolate." That was the only thing he said when he came up. He took half and gave half to her. Silence again.
"I wish I had met you sooner." There she had said it and regret flooded her. She saw the same in his face. They had not been supposed to talk about that. The what if. So many what ifs. All the different ways, no, do not think about it.
"I know."
She let the chocolate melt on her tongue. She loved the stuff but it had been impossible to get a hold of for a year. Like with so many other things. She did not want to think about the past few years, they had all been bad. She snuggled up against him.
"How do you think it will feel?"
"I do not know. They say it will be instantly."
"But does it hurt?"
"I do not know." He took the chance and kissed her, long and sweet. Kisses of regret and lost time. A salty kiss of the tears they both shed.
"I know we are supposed to be brave but I am scared," she finally whispered. "I am so scared."
He held her tightly and stroke her hair. "Do not be scared, you are here with me."
"If I had been alone..."
"No, do not go there." He looked at her and kissed her again. "I love you Amanda."
"I love you too," she let her fingers play with his hair. Stroke his cheek, touch his lips. The clothes were gone in an instant, and for a moment everything was good. Just the two of them embracing in the dark night. But this was the last night ever. Galaxies were colliding. Life was ending. But they had each other.

Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Flash fiction

"I adore you, you do know that?"
She did not raise her head to look at him. Her anger making her blood boil. She had loved him, she had given her everything and this was how he repaid her?
"But I must send you away, just for a little while. Until things cool down,"he hesitated."Until my wife cools down."
She wanted to scream and fight, and scream some more. Why was she such a fool to love him? Why did he make her heart beat faster? Why could she not say no. So she nodded and he kissed her forehead.
"I love you, my sweetling," he said and walked away.

The house was nice, she had servants and had everything else she could possibly have. Except him of course. But the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. Until she had enough and left in the darkness. He did return for her. It took him a year but he came, only to find no one except the servants. They all said she had gone out just a day ago but he could see their were lying. He searched and searched, but never found her, and his heart broke for sending her away. She had been the light of his life, his fiery red-headed mystery.


But even though Sana missed him, she went on with her life. She loved the woods and she settled down. She started to build a new life and everything was fine, until the day she was near others and heard them talk. About how her lover's wife was dead. The queen was dead. She felt restless at once, the ache of missing him stronger than ever. So she headed into the woods and near a stream she sat down. She wiped her tears and smiled.


Darlings!” Her sweet puppies came running and jumped at her. She kissed them all and they fell asleep in her arms.

Whatever would she tell her lover when she came back with 3 puppies, they were stubborn boys and preferred this form. They were all kitsune after all.

Wednesday, 23 July 2014

Flash Fiction

The Ceremony

He was dead and gone. Buried in the lake he loved. Loved and missed. Missed with every breath she took. She could not stop loving him, she could not go on. 10 long years had passed, and other women had loved and lost, but found love again. She, she could not. She dreamed of him at night, and thought about him during the day. She talked to him like he still was there. That longing had led her to this. Her body were now filled with markings and her mind with magic. During the day she covered up the best she could, because if others saw the marks they would know what she had been up to. No good.

The moon was shining as she ran through the woods. She was late, the ceremony had to start soon for it to work. She bit her lip and ran faster. When she came to the lake she breathed for the first time in what felt like hours. She fell to her knees and started chanting. The marks started to glow in the moonlight and slowly she could see his face at the bottom. As the dark magic filled the air around her his body began to float to the surface. She put her hand forward as he came forth. She started to cry when she saw his face. There was no face.

The dark magic died out and the air felt suffocating. His skeleton stood before her and she knew what she had to do. She took out a knife and stood up. Sounds came from a rock nearby and she went there and smiled. Behind it sat the butcher to where she had lured him earlier. With promises of kisses and more. But then she had used magic to tie him up. He looked scared to death and he should be.
"Your flesh is his flesh. Your blood is his blood." she said and cut his throat. She called the skeleton to her and sat him down in the blood while she carved up the body. It took all night but soon there was not much left of the butcher. She had butchered him alright. She was bloody and tired. But her deed was done. Before her he stood, flesh and blood had made him like he was before. Her beloved.
"Speak," she said and his eyes turned to her.

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

Flash Fiction

 The Battle of Archon 5

Ana put down her gun and sighed. Her muscles were stiff and she could not relax for a second. The battle was over but every cell in her body still screamed fight! She looked around and saw that everyone else was as tense too. But they were right to be. The area might be secure for now but the cyborgs always came back, and always in greater numbers. She followed her fellow soldiers inside for a quick briefing and then they were done.
“Fuck this shit,” she mumbled and went to take off her armour. It took a while and she could only dream of a long hot shower. But before that she sat down on the bench and kissed the medallion around her neck. She thanked whatever powers that were that she was safe. She breathed in, out and relaxed for the first time in 24 hours. Home base was safe for now.

No one said much in mess hall but after a day like today words were not needed. Ana tried to look around but she could not see Gideon anywhere. Damn. She could not really ask for her lover either. Why would she ask for a officer from another platoon? But she was worried. He was always there to show her he was safe. He had to be hurt, or worse.

It was a long night and she twisted and turned in her little bed. She got up in the middle of the night and walked to the infirmary. She knew the nurse at hand and complained about a headache. She got a few pills and saw that work was mostly done for the night. So she chatted with Nurse Carter for a while and then asked about casualties.  MIA. With a heavy heart she went back, but she never made it far. The alarm sounded and they seemed to come from everywhere. It was complete chaos and she, she just stood there as one came closer. She could see he was not complete and she wondered why they had sent a model like that. But then she saw her lover's face. By instinct she put up her hands and touched his face. For a brief moment she saw grief and pain before the face twisted in rage. A single tear fell down her face before he snapped her neck.