October 2018 75-word Writing Challenge:- VICTORY TO MOSAIX!

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Andersonville. 1864.


As the prisoners in the hell hole that was Andersonville Prison died one by one they passed a map drawn
on a leather scrap from one dying soldier to the next.

" I've got their escape map Sargeant !" " Or is it a treasure map ?"

" Give it back Private, it's not a treasure map or escape plan, it's Indian mumbo jumbo."
" It's a guide to the Happy Hunting Ground, the After Life, Paradise."

" It helps them die."
 
" The 1st Anniversary of a New York City Legacy "

Manhattan Medical Center; An 11 yr-old's annual checkup, her cornea transplants working perfectly. She hasn't stopped smiling.

Queens High School; A 17 yr-old leaps the last hurdle and finishes the course in his personal best. His new heart functioning like a Rolex.

Staten Island Cemetery, 20 yr-old Richard Cory's Graveside; A Mother and Father lay flowers as thoughts of their son overwhelm them.

He died on Long Island Expressway, single vehicle rollover, speeding and texting.
 
Where There’s A Will...

February 24th 2094.

...and, appropriately, to my worthless daughter I leave my worthless research notes into faster than light travel, time travel and perpetual motion.

To my son I leave the residue of my estate including all investments and property.

-----

February 24th 2094.

…and to my son I leave my research notes into faster than light travel and perpetual motion.

To my daughter I leave the residue of my estate including all investments and property.
 
Wills

Jack's extensive family sat thoughtful, following the executor's reading.

His fabled treasure had disappeared in years of care home costs.

People drifted. Ashamed they hadn't done more.

Tough. Far too late.

The solicitor winked at Kevin on his way out.

#

That night, Kevin drew open the pouch and frowned.

Then Jack's great great nephew recalled the old man's yarns and he smiled as the wrinkly old bean came to life in his imagination.
 
Out of the autoclave, endlessly rocking

"All this might well be yours one day"
The Elder stated, waving wrinkled pseudopod
Taking in petri dish, the agar-agar surface stretching far away,
The distant, white-clothed, sluggish shadow of their demigod.
Bottle bred, battle bred, boosting immunity
Cultured from your metafaunal community.
Lymphocytes, leucocytes police recognition,
Shock troops, deadlock loops, frontline quixotic
Body's fortifications with evolving volition
Counter invaders, mundane or exotic
Your distant ancestors bequeathed you
Disease resistance that's relieved you.
 
Legacy 3000

"Are you old? Tired? Dying? Afraid of what lies beyond and what you'll leave behind? Well fear no more! The new Legacy 3000 personality matrix can upload your mind - or soul if you're daft enough to believe that - in the blink of an eye! Why die now when you can have a legacy that lasts an eternity*? Simsend 0800ΩℓⱯⱮfi NOW!”

*Eternity not guaranteed. Legacy 3000 may cause homicidal killing sprees. Not for use under water.
 
The Beneficence of Kings.

Jean’s fists tightened. The Armagnac Praetorian armor -- sixteen years of humiliation, embodied in powered hypercrystal and shockwave cannon.

“Your majesty, why this cursed thing?” he said through clenched teeth.

“Your father betrayed Aurelia; familial redemption begins with bearing his shamed mantle.”

Jean’s voice quivered, knees weakened. “Redemption’s… possible?”

“Training begins tomorrow.”

“Your majesty knows Armagnac was no traitor,” the advisor said upon Jean’s departure. “Shouldn't we tell him?”

“Perhaps. But fictitious legacies are occasionally… useful.”
 
Crunch!

The final zombie fell before Marc.

Knock.

"It's me," called Marc. "School's secure." Al hugged Tina while their kids swarmed Marc.

Tap.

"You're infected, Marcus," said Al. Marc noticed the ragged marks on his arm.

Sob.

"No!"wailed CJ.

Click.

Al chained the door. Marc had walked these stairs many times... scholar... athlete... king... brother... He shuffled to the sign. Even in the dark, Marc knew it by heart... Legacy High School.
 
The gravity of the situation

My father was a time keeper. From the smallest intricate time piece to the complex rotation of the planets, he kept it all on track. Fast or slow. Even down to if you missed that plane or not.

Father left me this boring job. I have no interest in keeping time…

Except to play.

Hello, all you there, on Planet Earth. Hold your hats. This is going to be a bumpy but interesting ride.
 
The Ageless Legacy

"Here at The Academy, we don't usually consider legacy preferences, without a, ahem, small donation, but your father's groundbreaking work on biomedical gerontology means it would be an honour to admit you anyway."

Professor Murgatroyd studied my face.

"I knew your father 25 years ago. You do bear a most striking resemblance. Shame his sudden disappearance was never resolved. Will you be continuing his work?"

"I will," I replied, mentally adding, "be continuing my work."
 
Tomorrow

The wreckage of society surrounds me.

Bodies lie untended, insects delighted with their humanary feast.

We are all gone now. Only I remain, final witness to our crimes. Plastic clogs the shores and throats of the denizens of the deep. Tar clings to the air, cities drown, storms rend the land, the era of man ends.
I walk into the August snow, let the blizzard take me.

Look upon our works ye mighty and despair.
 
Coming of Age.

Will I inherit superpowers?

It's in the family DNA for a select few but only when we turn twenty. Moments away for me.

If I do, what will they be? Sis can turn invisible. That would be useful.

The clock chimes midnight.

From nowhere I am deafened; my head filled with an incessant, unending cacophony.

Telepathy!

I stumble to the balcony and regard the silent haven of the pavement far below.

I climb the rail.
 
Have you ever tried herding cats?

When my aunt died she left me her fortune on condition I looked after her tabby cat.

This was no problem. Tabs and I bought a star yacht and cruised the void in search of space mice. We never found any but we had many adventures…… then one day Tabs mistook a black hole for a mouse hole.

Fortunately even massive gravitational pull can't make a tabby cat go where it doesn’t want to go.
 
Trust in space...

Commander Harker staggered through the airlock, dragging engineer Korulun’s space suited form.

“Heroic idiot,” she rasped, “fixed the ship’s reactor, passed out–“

“-then you rescued him. Yes.” I glanced at the airlock.”Sans space suit.”

She froze, then folded her bare arms, face chagrined . And momentarily, I swear, her teeth...

“Special... vacuum survival training.”

I held her gaze. “Commander... Mina... You’re named for... an ancestor?”

Very slowly, she nodded.

I never mentioned it again.
 
Virtual Legacy

They called it the internet. That’s how it started, before the augmentation age, before the ice caps melted.

Extreme weather. Political collapse. Rioting. Starvation.

The great submersion would save us. A virtual, risk free world.

Freedom of action, gone. Ten billion souls in an advertising maelstrom. Choose the memory, choose the adventure; a cloud of collective experience. Instant gratification. No satisfaction. No reality. No personality. No way back.

No one to turn off the switch.
 
Lifetimes of Regret

“How?!”

Morgan looked up as I burst in. “Pardon?”

"Varren’s Disease! Frank told me you’d worked it out!”

Morgan’s confusion didn’t improve. “Frank?”

“That orderly. He brought up the antigen.”

“There’s no Frank-” she began. “Did you say Varren’s?”

“Right. I knew the Sirians were scum but-” Morgan was staring at her pad. “What?”

She handed it to me.

Varren’s Disease – Class 5 Pathogen.
Created by Doctor Franklin Varren in 2156, Earth; No known cure.
 
Broken things

He raised his arms high.

"This is us. We are nothing but a broken things now, we'll be consigned to history as such and most likely forgotten in a few short decades. But know the things we taught still matter now. With power comes responsibly it's how you use that power that's defines ones legacy."

His smile was sad. He knew they hadn’t listened. The cheers as he fell seemed to reinforced this thought.
 
Your lifeform requires updates


‘Legacy wetware? It means it’s old, not maintained, difficult to replace.’

‘How old?’

‘Ahem, around four billion years.’

‘So, we haven’t touched it since it went in?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Don’t “sir” me! Isn’t it your job to look after all of this?’

‘Yes sir...’

‘Watch it!’

‘...It’s just there are so many lifeforms. It’s hard to keep them all on latest version,’

‘You must have a plan for our problem planet?’

‘Delete and re-install.’
 
Last Will and Testament

I, Idoux the First, founder of this kingdom, being of sound mind, yet unsound body, hereby bequeath:

Ten gold coins, to my son, to outfit him for questing;

My enchanted armour and magic sword, to my better son, for the same reason;

My lands, castle, and title, to my daughter, to hold and administer;

And explosive runes to my ******* lawyer, who actually thought he'd tricked me into giving him my fortune.
 
Legacy: A Long Obedience in the Same Direction

James Henry XII smiled sadly and took a last look at Sirius. It had brightened over his 60 years. It hadn’t for James I, II, III, and IV.

Today James XIV had been born and XIII was 30; the age the apprenticeship for Associate Agronomist ended. The James legacy was one of an important shipboard job and an even more important colony job.

XII turned to Recycling Two reciting “One life begins; one life ends.”
 
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