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Tag Archives: death

Final Moments

I stared down at one of the many corpses littering the field of battle. Unlike many of the others, this one still breathed, and it sent flashes of its lost life out from its mind in agony, as though seeking a final someone to listen to its story, just as the other breathing corpses did. A few cried for help, but I ignored those, for they might still be saved. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on December 27, 2014 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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Never Trust a Thieving Witch

Slam! Slam! The woman pounded the second nail into the door frame. Inside, unable to see her through the closed door, a fat and fearful merchant cowered, his family holed into their rooms, gathering wealth.

Around the corner, guards ran toward the woman, who looked up in shock from under her hood, then hurried off, her loose smock blown against her thin body by the wind of her forward momentum. Her bare feet slapped against the hard packed earthen road.

Her hood flew back, releasing a long, black braid into the wind. Her brown skin was bleached by the full moon’s light, and her dark eyes were hidden by the shadows from her bangs. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on November 26, 2014 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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Let’s Try the New Tech

Maxwell’s eyes opened suddenly.  He looked around.  Everything was dark, and strangers’ voices echoed from another room.  He couldn’t remember when he got into his bed, or when he fell asleep.  He couldn’t see the ceiling above him, nor the blankets that rested heavily on top of him.  Something strong pulled them over his head, and for a moment he felt soft flesh brush against his hand.

The cloth pressed down against his face.  Though Maxwell tried to move, his body refused to move.  He felt a heavy weight in his stomach, and his own stale breath puffed off the blanket and down onto his face before it suddenly lifted, only to rest more heavily against his chest.  The soft cloth quickly grew hot around him, and he could feel sweat gather into large droplets, only to slide down into his hair.

He couldn’t move. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on September 1, 2014 in Futuristic Fiction

 

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A Long Letter

Rose tossed another wadded up paper into the ogre stewpot below.  It bounced off and hit the ‘chef’ on the male creature’s jiggling chest.  She shifted back out of sight, then continued to try to write.

Dearest Malindrake,

It has been a long time.  I’ve been getting drunk in the Undercity, and may have gotten raped.

No good.  Another wad of paper shot into the stew pot.  The ogres would get lots of fiber today.

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Posted by on September 13, 2013 in Semihistorical Fiction

 

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The Starry Man

We met in a bar.  My friends dragged me to the dark building, lit with rustic light bulbs instead of diffused-beam lighting system.  When I asked the bar worker, he said the owner had a stockpile from back when bulbs were viable, and he hated to waste money.

The light from the bulbs was fuzzy, and as my friends dragged me from the bar to a table, I spotted her. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on August 9, 2013 in Futuristic Fiction

 

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For Sale

Red, painted lips pressed against the infant’s head, and his mother rose and turned from the still child and left the darkened room.  Her quiet voice hummed a lullaby her own mother used to sing to her, and she walked to her own bedroom to get dressed for work.

Her uniform was already clean and laid out.  She checked her purse to make certain it had all she needed, and then began to change.  A kiss on her shoulder told of her husband’s arrival.  She turned to look at him and smiled at him. “Mind helping me change?” Her wink was flirtatious, and he smiled back at her as he zipped her bright red tube top into place over her chest.  It was a struggle against her large breasts. Read the rest of this entry »

 
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Posted by on August 7, 2013 in Modern Fiction

 

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Demons and Rot

I was almost perfect at stealth missions.  I was silent– no breathing, and I had no lower jaw.  The only flaws in my ability to sneak were a thing called ‘drool’ and another thing called ‘smelling worse than an ogre’s ass’.

Fil’ul obviously had a faulty nose.  He was the one that reeked– soil, death, blood, disease– the whole nine yards. Read the rest of this entry »

 
 

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