100 Word Anonymous Writing Challenge #9 (September '15)

[ratsy]

**PLEASE DO NOT POST STORIES DIRECTLY TO THIS THREAD**
​

100-Word Anonymous Writing Challenge for September 2015.
The Writing

Theme: Obsession
Genre: Science Fiction

**PLEASE DO NOT POST STORIES DIRECTLY TO THIS THREAD**
*​

Please PM entries to me (@ratsy) and I will post them.

The entries may be sent to me from the moment you read this to September 19th at 23:59 GMT.

I will do a word-count on the stories and if any are over the 100-word limit, I get to keep your soul for all eternity, or until I barter it for money and/or books. I will also advise the author and they will be able to trim the story to fit the count. Note: souls stay with me still.

The Voting

I will open the poll September 20th at 12:00AM GMT and will leave it open until September 23rd at 11:59PM GMT so as not to interfere with the 75 word Challenge.

I highly encourage everyone to vote, and to turn your head to the left and right and make those people vote too.

The Guessing

At the time of the Poll creation, I will supply a list of entrants so those who choose to show everyone their amazing powers of literary deduction may do so. If someone guesses more than four correct on the first try, @TheDustyZebra will eat her hat. Come on we all want to see that!

The Prize

I know we don’t usually have a prize but I wanted to offer a copy of Baby Shoes: 100 Stories by 100 Authors in paperback. If you live somewhere I cannot have amazon send it to you from, I will get you an ebook copy if that works. I have a story in the book, and I thought it would be fitting to have a flash fiction book as a prize for a micro-fiction challenge.

*If you post directly to this thread, @ratsy gets your soul…sorry

 

[ratsy]

Carillons a Musique

She always heard the call of the box. The singing so sweet, as if sang by the infant dead.

Pan knew, almost too well not to open it. Never lift the cold black lid that she gently pawed with her claws.

But that singing... that beautiful singing, would it hurt so, just to take a peek?

She could open it just a slit, to better hear those candy coated lyrics of those darling souls that sang.

Pan hooked a claw beneath the clasp.

Surely nothing so sickly, could be spawned by something so sweet?

 

[ratsy]

Collateral Damage

Zeta Draconis IX glittered in the hot blue light of its primary like the eye of a venomous serpent. Floating in the command center of Nemesis, Jace Verhorst smiled. It had been worth seven years and half a million credits tracking down Malok, the commander of the raiders who had killed his family. Reliable spies said he was here, hiding among farmers.

An alarm shrieked. Nemesis had located Malok, somewhere in the planet’s largest settlement. Verhorst smashed his fist into the control panel, launching antimatter missiles to destroy the village. Hundreds would die. Justice was worth their lives, too.

 

[ratsy]

When Hopes Die

Caleb banged on his front door, yelling “Pa, you've gotta come see this.”

The door swang open. His pa said “What's all the ruckus.”

“Remember I asked to go to space camp; you said 'When pigs fly'?” He pointed above the trees, where circled a wingless pig.

His pa ran inside. He's gone to fetch Ma, thought Caleb.

A BANG! rattled his ears. The pig exploded in a metal mist.

His pa stood at the window with a smoking shotgun.

Caleb whimpered. “I spent months building that pig!”

“Better luck next time, Son. Better luck next time.”

 

[ratsy]

Perspectives

Pain embraces me. I lean against a wall, reminding myself, your choice.

Released from pain, I hoist my awkward self onwards. Perhaps I'll reach Maternity before the next pain.

I'm almost there. Even baby steps count. I smile at the pun, then gasp.

A phalanx of slender women surges past, stabbing me with sharp glances. I know the type, tidily scheduling visits to the amniotic chambers between luncheons and soaring work-outs at the grav-free gym. They whisper.

"Why would anybody degrade their body like that?"

"She must have some weird obsession."

I smile, rubbing my belly. My choice.

 

[ratsy]

We Think, Therefore We Am

I made the first one to have someone clean the house.

The second, because I thought a gardener would be useful.

I must be stupid though, because it took making two to realise I could make one to go to work.

The fourth keeps up with all the admin; pays my bills and writes my letters.

The fifth is my live-in chef. The sixth goes to the social things I can’t be bothered with.

But now seven of me live in the house and I’ve got nothing to do…

Hang on… Perfect!

I’ll make another to think of stuff!

 

[ratsy]

I Love You

"...around, around, around--" ZRRRT!
A jolt of electricity assaults the pain receptors of the tiny, dented robot Zip-71, knocking it to the factory floor.
"Robot — work, don't recite! Doggerel is productivity's bane."
The robot rights itself, and returns to its work table.
........
........
"Around, around--"
ZRRRRT!!
One table over, a delicate, blush-tinted robot watches, its emotion programming triggering horror, then compassion. It gestures with precision-fingered hands: calm down, calm down!
Zip-71 stands and begins working...dares a glance at Pink-6 — so beautiful, yet functional — and the familiar flow of enhanced electrons erupts to circulate wildly throughout its body.
........
"Around, around, around..."

 

[ratsy]

A fascinating turn of events.

It began as an irritation. Nothing much. Something that would spoil the calm of an otherwise structured life.
You, with your language better suited to such things would call it a niggle, a word for which we have no equivalent.
My teachers notice it and warned me to desist. My mentors suggested meditation, but it grew obsessive.
My chosen career could only offer fertile ground for it to grow.
My father knowing that my choice could only make it worse had tried to dissuade me.
Eventually I could resist no longer. One eyebrow rose. "Most illogical, Doctor!"

 

[ratsy]

The Letter of the Law

Ten years Peter struggled against the fiend. Daily, he closed with the beast and fought, only to be cut down. He carried the scars from every brutal encounter, misery his payment for invaluable lessons. He would never quit. One of them would die and yet, live.

Finally, Peter broke free, supported by firm allies, he focused his attack.

Little by little, year by grueling year, he bled, but with every drop he gained ground. Finally, he had his hands around the brute’s throat.

He fell back in his chair, rubbing his reddened eyes.

“That’s it,” Peter said. “First draft’s done.”

 

[ratsy]

If at First You Don’t Succeed….

Lightening crashes outside the laboratory’s thick walls. On the table lies a still figure, horrible to behold.

Stitched together from disparate parts, the creature is neither fully human nor animal, but an unwholesome composite of both.

The man mutters, “This time it will work.”

“Yes, Doctor,” answers his deformed assistant.

Throwing a switch, the room fills with blazing coronas of light, fueled by the raging storm.

Twitching, the creature’s eyes blink open. Unexpectedly it bursts into flames and is consumed.

“Damn. Igor, clean up this mess, and bring out the big one next.”

Igor shuffles off at his master’s bidding.

 

[ratsy]

A MATTER OF TIME

The needle reached deep. Molecular assemblers flooded Reve's marrow. Customizing your blood was painful, expensive; worth it. Penelope would approve. He discussed scheduling with Doc. Corneal implants Tuesday, Hypothalarm update Friday, facial tensor recalibration Saturday.

Back home, Reve tested recent acquisitions: flexed synthetic limbs; wriggled fingers. Torso plates caught the light off the screen as he briefly checked his dwindling bank account. He clicked on another tab, the one in Favourites.

His new tongue clinked against hardened teeth. Penelope was there, patiently waiting for him to be worthy. Bright letters fettered her feet: "Get your own Penelope-VXN2000! On sale now".

 

[ratsy]

One small step

We're here.

Generations have come and gone within the arc but finally... we're here.

Thousands of lives dedicated to a single task and yet the privilege is mine.

Orbit is stabilised. The planet lies beneath, snow white virginal clouds covering land masses of glorious green and warm brown, all encircled by sparkling oceans of blue.

My hand shakes as I reach for the comms button; mouth dry from nervous excitement. I press and hear the short sharp burst of static from the open channel echo down the corridor and beyond.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're in orbit around OBS3.SS10-N. Welcome home."

 

[ratsy]

Walk to the Park

“Daddy, will you go to the park with me?”

“Of course, son.” He paused and looked at the boy. He almost looked exactly like his memory of him.

“Why are you crying, Daddy?”

He wiped his tears. “I just love you so much.”

They hugged; the boy’s grip was so close to what his son’s had felt like.

“It’s okay Daddy. I love you too.” They held hands and walked down the street.

Buzzzzzz. - Captain, you’re needed on the bridge. They’re here.

He squeezed the boy’s hand lovingly and ended the program, knowing he would be back later.

 

[ratsy]

A Vacant Chair Beside the Hearth

Anna watched him reading a newspaper at the kitchen table with a cup of steaming coffee. She loved how his face contorted into different expressions from one story to the next. She continued watching him as she cleaned house.

Later her neighbor Kathy brought her a casserole.

Anna thanked her, inviting her for tea.

"Isn't my husband handsome?" she said, watching him relax with a book on a chair by the fireplace.

Kathy nodded and smiled.

"I'm glad I spent the insurance money on a remembrance hologram instead of a funeral. Don't you agree?"

Kathy nodded and quietly left.

 

[ratsy]

Can YOU Save Mankind?

When the aliens came retaliation required Earth’s brightest minds.

Backdoor recruitment operations were headed by a puzzle, published online.

Earth’s mission: to identify and neutralise the mastermind behind the invasion.

Have you got what it takes to solve it?

You must look to the first of our line to find the key to our obsessions.

Be prepared to engage fully, from the alpha to the beta, from the vertical to the horizontal.

Wield intelligence as your sword.

Be prepared to trespass on known regulations.

Rendezvous at Vigenère Square to receive further instructions.

Keep your identity a secret!

 

[ratsy]

What if?

What if you discover a portal?
What if space and time become something you can manipulate at will?
What if there is one event in your past that is locked in your head forever?
What if you follow its outcomes through an infinite number of alternate universes?
What if all that could have been becomes more important than what was and is?
What if the obsession never stops?
What if “what if?” becomes the only question?

What if it always ends the same?

 

[ratsy]

Going Native

Ryxytl had gone totally Human.

I visited him at Earth Central, a city on a small island. We sat near a ruined clock and talked.

Well, I talked. He insisted on making these strange and disgusting sounds, rather than flashing his ucksotines like a grown-up.

“They had such a beautiful culture,” he said. “You should read some Quivering-Polearm.” Of course, I'm translating, but I believe accurately.

“Why would I want to?” I asked. “They're all gone.”

“But their stories, songs, and poems live on with me.”

Occasionally, I still think of him. He was executed for treason, of course.

 

[ratsy]

General Obsessive Deity Complex

With divinity's omniscience
I count every sparrow fall
Count the fly specks on the wall
Meter mankind's concupiscence

Catalogue celestial bodies
Comets, nebulae and stars
Specify how even odd is
when observing from afar

Heated atoms dance with pleasure
Brownian, the drunkard walks
Who else can their measure measure
Their cunning collisions and forks?

Prayers arise, each one heart spoken
Seeking justice or revenge.
Damping down blood feuds yet unwoken
If only Lords affront avenge.

Who but a god sees sins in retail
Weighing the good and ill together
Nobody mortal knows the detail
Balancing soul against a feather.

 

[ratsy]

Star Struck

'One more sweep.'

'But sir, we've scanned the planet already. He hasn't moved from the studio.'

'Give me real-time satellite. Can't we access those cameras? He might be with someone else—'

The lieutenant and the captain exchange glances. 'He's an actor, sir. He'll be with lots of people.'

‘Well he shouldn't be. He should be with me.'

'Sir?'

'What?'

'Have you ever met him, sir? In real life?'

'What has that to do with anything? We were born to be together. He just hasn't realised it yet.'

'But Admiral – what about the war?'

'Later. Where is he now?'