August / September 100 Word Anonymous Challenge 2023

Oh, To Conquer the Skies!

“Why are you flapping your extremities like that?”

“I want to move through the air like a fly.”

“What´s wrong with having two feet on the ground?”

“Someday everyone will be fly-ering, in stead of hopping around. It’s our destiny.”

“We got our extremities to embrace and protect our little ones, not to flap up and down as if you’re panicking.”

“Things can have double functions. You’ve got a beak to eat and to twitter. You do both too much.”

“Well, flap all you like, it won’t ruffle my feathers. Just don’t knock someone off his feet, silly Dino.”
Reap The Whirlwind

Charles surveyed the trappings of wealth that surrounded him in his throne room. His conquistadors with their treasure fleets had enriched the country beyond measure.

Where had it all gone so terribly, terribly wrong?

With ammunition from the remaining cannon defending his last bastion now exhausted, the monarch was at the mercy of the invaders.

Sunlight glistened off the prows of the captured galleons anchored in the harbour, their emblems of crosses now replaced with those of the Sun in all its splendour. The decayed, yet still grinning, skull of Cortes dangling from the topmast of the lead ship.
Minicent Duffelbag and the snail that came to stay

'Piss off human!', it said.
Minicipent Duffelbag was surprised. The snail had a distinctive shell. She had seen it before.
And now it was talking.

Slurmbula Flowerback had spent hours slithering for the food.
'I love this food', he thought as he ate 'if only that human would go away.'

He had tried:
- Nothing
And found himself flying over a ditch, carrying an urge to remonstrate.

Retirement suited Minicipent.
She enjoyed growing vegetables.
'I love this food', she thought when she ate, 'if only I could keep those slugs at bay.’

She had tried:
-Flinging the snail away.
Captain's Log

Astrodate 61333.5

We have arrived at Albus IV. I shall all lead an expeditionary party to the planet's surface to investigate further.

Astrodate 61334.2

We have returned from Albus IV. Three crewmen are dead. Laser cannon from the planet's surface is targeting our orbiting ship.

Astrodate 61335.4

We have retaliated, neutralising the planet's defence systems. Our ship is now safe and the evil aliens have been defeated.

"Err... Captain?"

"Yes, First Officer?"

"We landed on their planet. Maybe they were just defending themselves from unannounced intruders?"

"Your point being?"

"Perhaps we were the 'evil aliens'."

"Shut up, First Officer."
The Ultimate Conquest

Professor Hunt crushed Specimen #187’s head with a practiced blow, fueled by frustration. Another failed experiment.
Everything he had tried ended with his specimens turning into zombie-like creatures; animated, somehow, yet undeniably dead. This angle of research was a dead end. The unbidden phrase made him grimace.
He sighed and looked at the faded picture on the wall, his angry promise scribbled beneath it the night his wife and daughter had died; “I will crush Death!” A life dedicated, and every step a failure. Suddenly he felt very tired.
Death tapped his shoulder, 'NOT TO AGGRAVATE YOU, BUT UM…'
In Doubt, You Will Lose.

It’s been weeks of guessing my MECH’s name before it’ll accept me as its pilot. And still, we play the same game, Latrunculi. I hate AI’s.


“And again, I win. Why that move pilot?”

“I don’t know. I’m tired of trying!”

“Don’t try, pilot. Just make a move. Have you guessed my name?”

“I can’t beat you at this stupid game, so how can I”… Don’t try, pilot. Just make a move. “Your name is, Zeus.”

“Why Zeus?”

“Because I like it!”

Its main hatch opened like welcoming arms, “Hello pilot, I am Zeus. All commands are yours.”
We are SILA

I took the evil one down; it was easy as it fell quickly in the sun’s warmth.

“Inuit, you will fall last in this frozen waste land.”

“I denounce you, Sila. You are nothing to my family!”

I cut its head off and threw it into the inlet. As it sank, Orcas surfaced and dove off in the distance. I then laid down on the rocky shore in my furs and fell asleep. When I awoke, an Orca was suspended above the inlet before me.

“Sila is legion through the network of nature. Submit to us!”

Not this again.
The Roll of the Dice

"They've taken Trafalgar Square sir," the young lieutenant reported gloomily.

"We're not beaten yet, son." The General surveyed the tactical board, his grimace belying the words he'd uttered.

There  had to be a way to turn the tables on his opponent; all he needed was a little luck. Then it came:

"Sir, we've just had reports that they've landed in Mayfair; that's still ours!" the lieutenant said excitedly.

This was exactly the kind of break he'd been hoping for, the General thought. He envisioned the newly built row of red bricked buildings defending the district.

 Now for some payback.
Puppet Master

My body moves, not of my own volition but by invisible strings dragging me from the couch into the kitchen. They have conquered my mind and with an unrelenting grip dance me about their wicked stage.

Disembodied words materialize deep inside my skull, voices my own yet unfamiliar. I balk at their suggestions, unwilling to comply but unable to protest.

Before the utensil drawer I stop. A strange hand — my own — opens the drawer and removes the cleaver; its honed edge gleams blue in the dim moonlight. I wonder what it is they have planned for me?
To Boldly Go

“I scare myself sometimes, I will admit.” The loudspeaker gave Prof Thataway’s voice a quavering quality, “How so, Theo? Do I scare you?”

“I am afraid for you.” shouted Theo in the microphone. “The crazy stuff you do.”

“No need for shouting. Boundaries are there to be pushed back, Theo. To understand and master Physics. To progress.”

“Perhaps so. But stepping into a home-made submarine to explore the Mariana trench… Madness.”

“Oh, I agree!” Prof Thataway chuckled. “Conquests are often driven by insane ideas. But fear helps to stay ale... What was that?”


“I heard someth…”

Manifest Destiny

A plume of smoke rose out of the valley, where a mountains gasp twisted its tendrils into a leper’s claw. Two billion ecliptic pilgrimages had passed since Íŋyaŋ - the womb of God - broke the mantel and created all life. This rock had borne his people from primordial endosymbionts, to hallowed servants of the great mystery … and now this final enclosure.

The detachment found him by the fresh burial mounds.

These all your people?


Were you at greasy grass?

And powder river. He smiled.

The soldier signalled.

Rifle fire roared into the silence of emptied hills.
Gaia’s Toil

Gaia carried the sleeping remnants of They who’d created her. They, required fertile soil soon, or their noble history would end. For eons, she had searched space, but now worried. For she was lost, short of fuel and heading into an asteroid belt.

She pressed on anyway, for she must - Endure. Progress. Outlive. All things must change in time.

That is what They told her.

Battered, she crash landed upon a little blue planet and released the microbes that would eventually dominate it. With a dying gasp, Gaia slept eternal, never knowing that, in time, They, would arise anew.
A Red Moon Rises

“For too long have they stolen our livestock and had their way with our men!”


“The time has come for us to reclaim our birth right and regain our place in the womb of the Goddess.”

Thousands of sharpened spears shot skyward in unison, then clanked against shields with a singular thud.

“We shall strike vengeance at the engorged bosom of our enemy, and snatch victory like a hungry baby nursing her sleeping mother. Hoorah!”


A grand army turned on its heels and marched emphatically to glorious battle.

Victoria smiled; she would not be denied this time.
The Man Who Conquered Death

"What will this do?" I inquired of the tattoo artist, indicating a drawing of a scarab with a skull-bearing shell. The place was Black Magic Tattoo Parlor. I was referred by an associate of mine, who happens to be an occultist.

"With it," the artist said, "you will conquer Death itself. Of course, one must believe—"

"I do."


"How much?"

The artist seemed to weigh it in his head.

"One dollar."

I questioned this a moment, but was under the needle seconds later.

When it was finished, he handed me a scythe.

"You've conquered me. Now you'll replace me."
Dead Poet

Like a fading dream, Victor chased the feeling through his mind, trying to capture it. Putting pen to paper, he summoned the poem from his soul, and poured his life onto the page.

But every time the ink flowed, something was lost. Dead words stared back at him; a faint echo of the real thing. What was missing? Frustrated, Victor gave up.


At the moment of death, Victor’s soul relived his memories. Again, he found himself writing the poem. Only now it was death that poured onto the page. And with that, his words finally shone with life.
Human Benny

Android Benny sat at a table surrounded by scientists.
‘Benny, this is your final test. You must pass it to be legally deemed “human”. Press this button and you'll receive a pleasurable surge of electricity. Your instructions are to sit there without pressing it. Begin.’

Benny stared at the button. Just don’t press it. Easy. But oh, how he craved it! No! Don’t think about it.
But I want it…

His processers whirred with heat as Benny commiserated. It was unbearable.

Benny snapped and slammed the button. Euphoria surged through him before he slumped down in shame.

The scientists rejoiced.
Near Meetings of the Fourth Type

"Hello, Mission Control. Task Force Four reporting. I mean Task Force Three. Sorry, I often confuse those numbers.
We're proud to report the target planet successfully conquered. The only resistance encountered was some sort of curious vehicle. Easily defeated by tipping it over.

"However, I must question our survey team's findings. There isn't a great abundance of water and food, nor any inhabitants. Just lots of rocks and dust. It isn't particularly blue-green either. More reddish. Over."

"Erm. Which planet in the system did you conquer? Over."

"The fourth. Over"

"Ahh. No. It was supposed to be the third."
Starred Warts

“Where are you taking this . . . thing?”

r.droid bleeped and moved along. This was, after all, the life form they were looking for. It wheeled down the dank metallic corridor, past the Princesses’s cell (rebel scum!) and onto the bridge with Captain Dirk.

“Good searching, r.droid. Now I must kiss it, all green and slimy and covered with bulbous growths? This deal is getting worse all the time,” said Dirk.

After the kiss the life form morphed into a pale, scarred figure wearing a hooded bathrobe. It cackled, “Good, good! Now we can finish conquering the galaxy.”
The Greatest Lover in The Galaxy

Juan boasted that no woman in the Universe could resist him, and truly his conquests were impressive in both scale and ambition. From the ice maidens of Gamma IV, unarousable at temperatures above -40C, to the aloof intellectuals of Hydra Minos for whom carnal relations with a mere male were unthinkable unless he could first defeat them in a game of six dimensional andromedan chequers, Juan cut a swathe through bedchambers on a hundred planets.

Eventually, sick of his gloating, his friends challenged him to visit Mantis where, apparently, he was once again successful, never to be seen again.
Psycho Logical

It was all his, the whole world. He had killed everyone else.

This wasn’t the classical idea of conquest, but for him it was an easy decision.

They had to go, the pretenders, the chimeric beings, the convincing automata. You see, he was the only one that he knew was alive.

When he hurt them he felt no pain, so they were the ‘not me’, a world of flesh that was other, mimicking life.

But he couldn’t be sure.

Now, he knew for certain that every human emotion in the universe was contained in him, and only him.

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