February / March 100 Word Anonymous Challenge


Easily amused
Feb 21, 2006
Ontario, Canada
This is the thread for the stories. You may enter as many stories as you like.
I (elvet) will be accepting entries until 11:59 GMT on Monday March15. I will post a poll, and voting will will continue for at least 5 days. Please give your entry a title, otherwise it's quite complicated distinguishing between them when it comes to voting.
Private message (also known as conversation) your entries to @elvet.

The discussion thread is here

Two watchers roamed unseen amongst the people and readied the inter-dimensional membrane for passage.

“I want to tell them.”

“To what end?”

“So they understand.”

“They won’t understand.”

“It shouldn’t be a secret!”

“The deaf ears of the willfully ignorant do not hear.”

“Well...they should know.”

“They will know soon enough.”

As the asteroid neared, panic spread through the people. The watchers awaited the delivery of the many new souls, about to hatch from their corporeal eggs into a new plane of existence.

“Does it have to be so violent?”

“Birth is a messy process, my novitiate.”
Off Switch

My old service colleagues call it Cadence.

Odd how despicable things acquire clever code names.

I faced it once: a homemade widget, wielded by a teen. The wunderkind had actually worked for us. He'd rediscovered and improved on the tech and couldn't see why we sidelined it.

Too far down the rabbit hole, he was.

He used it on three students in a crowded city centre, some argument about a girl.

As police liaison, I had the job of covering it up. I found his body in a churchyard.

See, Cadence can't be tamed. His device? Hidden, with the others.
Two-Way Mirror

Zeke sat up in his room with his dog, Happy. He took a break from playing his electric
guitar to scratch the dog's head.

"Listen, boy," Zeke said, "I've been keeping a secret for longer than you've been alive.
No one else can know. I'm--I'm really an alien from the planet Dantor. I'm here to
monitor these humans."

He chuckled. Happy looked as though he were going to say something, and he did.

"I'll keep your secret," said the canine, "if you don't tell anyone I'm an enemy spy
from Grifk."

Zeke, beside himself, shook his extraterrestrial friend's paw.
The Secret Warrior

Agent Triple Zero Seven hid under the ruins of the Eiffel Tower. She adjusted her eyes to detect far ultraviolet rays, a sure sign of SHRIKE weaponry. Against the backdrop of a night sky of purest black, dotted here and there with the eerie glow of quasars, she saw the enemy airship discharge its UV laser, shearing off what little remained of the cathedral of Notre Dame.

She unfolded her wings and soared along the dry riverbed of the Seine. A beam of antiphotons burst from her gauntlets, destroying the SHRIKE vessel. She smiled.

"Liberté, égalité, fraternité, you dirty rats."
It's Snow Secret

"Admiral, I trust you've told no-one about tonight's assault on Echo Base?"

"No Lord Vader..."

"Excellent. We must maintain the element of surprise!"

"...except Matilda"

"Well, obviously you can't keep secrets from your wife"

"No, my lord. Or the chef"

"The chef?"

He's doing packed lunches for the lads"

"Hmmm.... I suppose the 'troopers need to be fed. But no-one else?"

"Well, I did tell..."


"So apart from Matilda, the chef, the chef's girlfriend...

Much, much later...

...and the boys down the cantina, no-one knows about tonight's secret attack?"

"Absolutely not my lord!"

"Very good, admiral. Carry on."
Gone With the Groan

The blue coated soldiers were just behind her as Thelma ran through the cotton fields. She had to make it into the plantation mansion. With Union Army soldiers following, she clambered up the staircase to the second floor and hid inside a closet. Shaking, she pressed the return button.

Lewis was waiting for her when she materialized in modern times.

“I failed,” cried Thelma.

“Did you time travel on your own?” asked Lewis.

“I tried to reunite Colonel Butler and Scarlett O’Hara.”

“How could you be so foolish?”

“I thought you said the Time Travel Bureau mission was ‘Seek Rhett.”’

I looked at the letter; the letter stared back at me from the kitchen table, official red seal and thick off-white paper. I snatched it up and checked the fluidly scrawled address. Same as it was the other umpteen times I’d checked it, definitely for me.

I flipped it back over and subconsciously flinched. Seared into the wax, that thistle impression was one I’d often seen. Scorched onto the hands of their muscle-bound men.

Could I ignore it? This wasn’t like the flotsam of junk mail I’d left on the mat. Bills like this don’t go unpaid.
Flower Power.

“Update me on progress,” the Queen commanded.
Cobweb projected a map onto the wall while Peaseblossom provided the commentary.
“Here is the original insertion point. Population density is shown in grey.”
A yellow stain seeped out from the top right corner and slowly began to fill the map.
“As you can see, at this point there is little impact on the population levels but infection rates are extremely high. Herd susceptibility has been achieved.”
“The new insertion points?”
“Here, here and here.”
“Release the new mutations tonight. A grateful nation thanks you, gentlemen. Tomorrow a new day dawns for Fairykind.”
Loco Commotion

Napoleon had a secret plan
To help his empire grow
He'd take his Guard by Eurostar
And circumvent his foes

"Ten thousand seats for me and t'lads
And make them all first class
I'm due in Bruges by half past two
We've heard your train's right fast"

Whilst French all rode in luxury
The Iron Duke just shrugged
Of L'Empereur's troops there was no sign
He knew he'd been humbugged

That was 'til Eurostar came past
And Boney lost his crown
For just outside of Waterloo
His bloomin' train broke down
The Butterfly

Is it upsetting, being unseen?

No; it wouldn’t make sense to be. My success – our success – hinges on being undetectable. I couldn’t influence the people that shape the world if they knew I was there, releasing pheromones, spiking drinks, manipulating dreams.

Sure, it gets lonely, but I’ve come to know these people – despots, billionaires and monarchs alike. They’ve become like family to me.

What’s heartbreaking is being unknown. However many billion people whose existence I’ve preserved over the centuries, steering human evolution, preventing catastrophe.

They don’t even feel the beat of my wings.

Time Adjustor # 216 Log, Date 09/10/2001.

“See?” said Don.

Just outside the village below them, children were playing soccer. As Bannon watched an adult Sprout with a whistle signalled half time. Tousled hair and whippy tendrils were pressed tightly together as the trailing side plotted their second half strategy while the others, confident in their final victory, were competing to see who could jump the highest - and despite their natural advantages, the Sproutlets weren’t having it all their own way.

“But Sprouts eat humans!” spluttered Bannon.

“Grown-ups!” sneered Don. “Want to join in? You gotta swear to keep it secret!”

Bannon looked on longingly. “Please?”
Show, don't tell

My local's the Talisman, off Peartree Lane? Crowded, warm and smoke filled, and it has the best magic act around.

Franklin, the barkeeper there, draws a crowd on a Friday night: he levitates his barmaid while drinking a pint, like some meta ventriloquist act.

And the trick's secret? Well, it's no trick. I've known Franklin since we were kids, and he's got no 'fluence' to speak of, but then, you see, she's no barmaid.

Her father owns the pub and she manages it.

The act? It's all her.

Yeah, Franklin, good bloke, but he's powerless, especially around the Mage's daughter.
Free Choice?

“I never knew the name of the man who saved me,” said Tyrelle.

“But the time paradox …” said Mona.

“He saved my life, but the police could not identify him. No fingerprint matches and his ID cards were preposterous.”

Tyrelle stepped into the machine.

“I have a choice. I will save the man,” he thought.

He returned to that day near where he once lived. A car crested the hill. A red ball bounced into the street. A boy chased after it. No one else was there. He had a choice, but either way he would die that day.
Hidden gift

Leaf mould, sunlight, rain: green shoot
Here, where hope was lost,
The tree my father planted.
The Unutterable

“Understand, Nurelli? Never tell a soul.”

“No souls, Mage Marakin.”

“Let’s not limit it to souls. Any living entity. Don’t even whisper to flowers.”

Nurelli nodded, slowly.

“Nod with certainty, Nurelli! Speak and you’re living death.”

He nodded faster. “Understood, Mage Marakin.”

“I’m very serious. Otherwise, I’ll conjure environments so disgusting…”

Nurelli flinched.

“…visions so nightmarish…”

He whimpered.

“…jumble your anatomy…”

“Oh! Please, Mage Marakin. I understand! I do…”

“Very well. What then mustn’t you speak of?”

“That you’ve been swiping goblin gin from Master Hobble’s confiscatory cabinet.”

Marakin facepalmed, waved his wand at Nurelli and uttered the unutterable…
Nouvelle Cuisine again? Sigh!

You know I really have very simple tastes; which shouldn’t really surprise you if you know my background.
Something like Suchi actually doesn’t do a thing for me, and I honestly prefer cod roe to caviar. But you have to give the public what they expect in this game. Would you believe I was brought up almost exclusively on rabbit stew by my old Gramma after my parents died, and my idea of a special treat is probably fish and chips. But you have to give the public what they expect. Image is everything these days, isn't it, precious.
Ancient Catronauts

A kitten hides no secrets, knows no concealment strategies. It's just a ball of fun with an unreliable off switch.

A cat, though, even quite young, is a fur-wrapped enigma, protected by fierce claws. A solitary predator, but deep inside it knows it's a Lord of Creation. Ancient Wisdom, probably DNA carried down from Ancient Egypt, delivering sub rosa data along with the tiny corpses of fledgelings and rodent sacrifice delivered on the door sill.

Don't try concealing information from them, unless you are a cat yourself. Or even half cat, like me - but that's not my secret.

"They say two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead. It's no secret that I have a secret, so you don't need killing for that Fortunately, because I like you.

"It's no secret I've a secret. And you couldn't guess what unless… what could be important enough that I would kill for it? Logically I must already have killed."

I tried to rise, to discover the heart-pain twinge had not been regret, but a poignard,

"I, though, have no secrets - any man in the room could have told you I was the local justiciar."
Woodland walk
Her cold little hand gripped mine, dragging me through the undergrowth. Twigs whipped me, while she was short enough to be in bluebells.

The two skeletons hugged, but every tiniest scrap of flesh had been eliminated by forest scavengers; not recently if that sapling had grown up since, rather than planted by the iron fence pole thrust through, pinning the lovers . For lovers they had been. Any residue of clothing, buckles or buttons, they hadn't been wearing.

"You found this two years ago?" A nod. "And didn't tell anyone?"

"It wasn't my secret to give - except to you."

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