Skeletons Following Me pt. 2

20160309_103252_HDR horror-edit

Randomly Generated Names: Auberon Justin BlackwoodMouses Al NorthAlexina Sommer Blackwood

Randomly Generated Genre:

Comedy-Horror-Suspense(Uuugghh)

Randomly Generated Title: Skeletons Following Me

Time: 35 Minutes (For real though)

Go!

 “Wh-What was that?” Mouses whispered, his ghostly legs scrunched towards his chest. Auberon’s hands were over his mouth and nose, trying to breathe–to stay calm. But the quivering of Mouses’s twigish body wasn’t helping.

“A–A bird. Or something,” The noble leader uttered through his thick palms.

“It sounded like Lexi screamin’,” Mouses whimpered, “Should we–“

bird, Mouse. Get off it.” Auberon rolled onto his feet. “And if you dare step out that door I’m gonna do worse to you than some dumb ghost.”

The command aligned comfortably with Mouses’s cowardice, so he nodded in agreement. Auberon paced, like a caged animal, performing just the right amount of mental gymnastics it took to get himself to believe his own words.  It was all a joke. It wasn’t his fault. It was all a joke.

“Yeah… yeah we’re fine, Mouse. Let’s, uh, talk about something. How… How have you been doing?”

Mouses looked about as surprised as a cat caught in the rain. Auberon was about as caring as a starved coyote.

“Oh–Uh–Well, I asked out Mary Mathers yesterday and–“

Auberon stilled, looking rather impressed. “Huh. And here I thought you was queer.”

Mouses’s face flushed, mouth agape, “You thought I was–“

BAM BAM BAM BAM.

It was not the front door.

It was the wood beneath them.

Auberon pressed himself to the wall, Mouses jumped onto the cheap card table in the corner.

“Was–” Mouses hid under his jacket, “Was that–“

BAM BAM BAM BAM.

The floorboards raised with each hit, warped wood creaking. Auberon was as white as a fresh marshmallow.

“That ain’t no bird, boss!” Mouses screamed over the pounding.

“It’s–It’s an earthquake, you dope!”

“Oh cripes, oh cripes, we’re gonna get killed!”

“Shut your trap!” Auberon watched the floor. The boards were splitting enough to see something underneath. A small, black circle. No, it was an eye; a bird’s eye–

All of his feigned confidence shattered. With a speed that would shame a hot rod, he bolted to the door.

“Wait–boss!” Mouse shouted, bouncing up and down atop his card table.

“Sorry, Mousey, but I’m splitting from this popsicle stand.” With a great heave, the door–

Remained exactly where it was. Auberon’s brows drew together. “What the–” He pulled once more, calling upon the strength of his newly discovered manhood. A vein popped from his forehead, a plus sign so defined it looked like a four-way stop for his zits to travel across. Still, the door remained firm.

“HA!” Mouse called from across the room, “Serves you right!”

“SHUT UP!” Auberon placed a boot against the frame, and continued to yank. The door gave way. Or at least, the handle did.

The leader of the Skeleton Squad looked at the handle in his palm with as much horror as a student taking an algebra final he didn’t study for.

BAM BAM BAMBAMBAMBAMBAM!

Floorboards shattered. One plank flew into the air, hitting Mouses square in the forehead. The scrawny boy fell off the table, holding onto his head. Auberon couldn’t help but cackle, “Did you see that? You just–“

Another plank flew into the air, hitting Auberon between the legs. The macho man was abruptly reduced to a toddler. He bent over, grabbing his crotch, tears crawling down his pink face.

It was during Mouses’s laugh (and Auberon’s wailing) that a black mass broke through the floor. With a many flirt and flutter, hundreds of birds emerged, ramming into the ceiling, into the walls, and towards them. Neither boy could hear their own screams over the beating of wings, the scratching of talons, and the cawing. The cawing was the worst. Auberon didn’t have a sense of person, of purpose.

“I want my mommy!” He screamed, hands still tenderly supporting his crotch.

Mouse was hiding beneath his jacket, using it like a tortoise shell. “I’m sorry, ghost kid! I’m sorry! Take Auberon!”

What did you just say?” Auberon hissed.

The birds stilled. But did not land. They were all hovering in the air, as if held up by strings. Hundreds of beady eyes on them both.

A figure, pure white, emerged from the hole. A boy, their age. He looked normal (outside of the radiating white of his body) until he turned towards Auberon. Half of his head was smushed inwards. Bone was poking out of the skull cavity, gray chunks of brain visible.

It was the kid from earlier.

Auberon fell to his knees, hands clasped together. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it! It was an accident!”

Mouses’s jaw dropped, the look of disbelief clear.

“It–It was actually all Mouse’s idea.”

“WHAT?!”

The deceased boy approached the gang-leader. His eyes were black, dead, and his face was passive. When he was before Auberon, his pale hand raised. And, in the same manner as Auberon had done to his sister, gripped onto Auberon’s throat. The leader couldn’t breathe, and tried grabbing at the boy’s hand. No matter how hard he tugged, he couldn’t get the boy to let go.

A smile, slow, twisted, spread across the corpse’s lips. In a voice as chilling as the cawing of the birds, the boy whispered, “Who’s the joke now?

————–

I’m so glad I had a time limit because this could have gone on for way longer than it did. And it needed to die. As did Auberon.

Next one!

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Skeletons Following Me

20160309_103252_HDR horror-edit

Randomly Generated Names: Auberon Justin BlackwoodMouses Al NorthAlexina Sommer Blackwood

Randomly Generated Genre:

Comedy-Horror-Suspense(…what)

Randomly Generated Title: Skeletons Following Me

Time: 35 Minutes

Go!

 “It is not my fault that kid is dead,” Auberon scoffed, pulling his denim jacket tight around him, “He was a clutz! That’s it.”

“A clutz,” echoed ‘Mousey’ Mouses, tugging his dark leather jacket in the same fashion, “Askin for it, really.”

“You guys!” Scolded Alexina, her pink dress puffed up like an angry kitten. “You can’t just ignore this. You tied his shoelaces, pant’sed him and knocked him off of a bridge.”

The group walked briskly away from town, away from the noise, the panic, the body. Auberon spit into the grass, seeming as though the whole incident didn’t really register. “And? Not my fault he wanted to land on his head.”

Ronnie,” Alexina snarled, her circular lenses enlarging her glare, “This is wrong. We need to go back.”

“Shut your trap, Lexi, you should know we don’t take lip from punks that call out the Skeleton Squad. Ain’t that right, Mouse?”

“Of course, boss.” The bountiful supply of curls that draped in front of the younger boy’s gray eyes hid the the anxiety within them. This morning he was worried about flunking  Ms. Rose’s English class, now he was consumed with the screamcrunchsplat orchestra repeating in his mind. But the blood of the stooge ran deep within ‘Mousey’ Mouses, and if Ron told him to kick a litter of puppies, by golly he would do it.

“Gonna be funny,” Auberon elbowed his stooge, “Kids from school seein’ his tighty-whiteys.”

“Yeah, funny,” Mouses chuckled softly.

“Callin us a joke–Well who’s the joke now?” Auberon unleashed a roar of testosterone-fueled laughter. “What a twerp!”

Alexina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “If you don’t turn heel right now,” the girl hissed, “I’m going to–“

Auberon clutched his sister by the jaw,”If you even think about telling the heat, or worse–mom–I’m gonna rip those pretty little locks from your pretty little head. Got it, snot-face?”

Fat tears weighed down Alexina’s fair lashes, but she forced herself to nod. Auberon pushed her backwards, causing her to trip on the dirt road. Mouses watched her with a grimace, but said nothing as his leader kept walking. He paused only a second before following after.

The girl, sniffling, grabbed at her jaw. It was cold.

The Coffin–a name Auberon thought was extraordinarily clever to call the Skeleton Squad clubhouse–was quiet, except for the squeaking of the warped wood. It was a worn, damp cabin abandoned in the forest. Sticky magazines and empty beer cans littered the floor, spiderwebs decorated the ceiling. It was disastrously beautiful to high school kids that had nowhere else to go.

Auberon collapsed back into a stiff couch, arms resting on the back of it. Alexina and Mouses hesitated at the doorway.

“What are you squares gawkin at?” Their leader tossed his jean cap off, revealing the greasy black hair underneath. The other two stepped a couple feet forward, but that was about it. His anger started subtle, but became amplified when Auberon didn’t know why he was angry. “Mouse! Lexi! Sit!

“Oh-yeah-sure thing, boss,” Mouses kept his gaze to his sneakers, while Alexina glared her brother down the entire way to the couch. She looked about as agitated as the poodle on her pleated skirt. Even as both fulfilled his command, Ron was still unsatisfied.

“He got himself killed, got it? And we was here the whole day. Right?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Alexina said nothing, crossing her arms. She wasn’t sure if she was angry or horrified.

“What are you looking all smug about, snot-face?” Auberon bared his teeth to the girl, and was one banana away from being a gorilla. Though she felt prickling against her skin, she felt a sort of pride that she was getting him so riled up.

“Nothing. I’m just glad don’t have to worry about getting haunted.”

The statement took a seat between them, instigating a long pause. The brute scoffed, “What are you talkin’ about four-eyes?”

“Didn’t you know? That kid was the son of the graveyard keeper. And surely you know about the missing bodies…”

“What bodies?” Auberon pushed Mouses against the couch to get a better look at her face, “What are you talkin about?”

“Well I hear that that family practiced some real who-doo witch-craft stuff, and practiced on the dead. Billy said he saw some ritual just last week while he was riding home.”

“You’re a liar,” Auberon stood up, shoving his hands in his jacket, “You’re just trying to get me frosted.”

“It’s not my problem if you get knocked off a bridge by the grave-keeper’s son.”

“What about me?” Piped up Mouses, “Am I gonna get killed?”

“Well you did tie his shoes together.”

“Cripes…” The scrawny boy hid himself beneath his jacket.

“Don’t listen to her,” Auberon commanded, “And you–stop squawkin’ them lies, or i’ll tape that mouth shut.”

“I’m not lyin!”

Shut up!” He shouted loud enough to scare the grease from his own hair. It dripped down beside his sweat, making him look like a melting candle. Alexina crossed her arms, large eyes glaring beneath her lenses.

BAM BAM BAM.

All three jumped, heads snapping towards the front door.

BAM BAM BAM.

They didn’t move.

BAM BAM BAM BAM–

“Who’s there?” Auberon shouted, clammy hands pulled into fists. There was no answer.

Mouses pulled at his curly hair, “It’s the kid.”

“Shut your lip,” Auberon snapped. “Probably Sammy, forgetting how to get in again.” Though the wavering in his voice didn’t quite sell his reassurance. Puffing up his chest, their noble leader strode to the door and pulled it open.

He screamed at the first blow, a flash of black blinding his vision. Alexina and Mouses jumped up, shrieking in response. Auberon blindly swatted at his foe, knocking it to the floor. All three took a step back, giving space to the monster.

A crow.

There was a beat of silence before they collectively let out a weak chuckle.

“Just a lousy bird,” Auberon spat. The crow was twitching on the floor, inky eyes alert. It cawed repeatedly, fluttering one wing more than the other. Alexina went towards it,

“I think it’s hurt–“

“Here, let me have a look,” Auberon knocked her hard enough to make her fall. Before she could even get to her knees she heard it–

Crunch, crunch, crunch! Auberon’s boots was slamming down repeatedly.

“NO!” She cried, but it was too late. The black heap of feathers was no longer twitching. She scrambled to her feet, face red with fury, “What was that for!?”

“Was puttin it out of its misery,” Auberon responded, bored.

“I hate you!” She cried, tears finally spilling over. Her brother shrugged. Mouses’s face was pale, eyes fixated on the dark goo on the wood.

“I’ll let you know when I care,” Auberon responded, smearing his boot against the floor. “And stop your cryin’–“

BAM BAM BAM!

All three turned towards the door once again. None could feel their legs, and each heart about to jitter-bug out of their chest cavities.

“A-Another bird.” Auberon dismissed with a shaky laugh, “It’s just–“

BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!

“It’ll go away,” he insisted, stepping away from the door. “No big deal.”

BAM BAM BAMThe door was creaking, wood splintering.

“M-Maybe you should answer it, just to see,” Alexina suggested, hiding behind Mouses.

“Maybe you should, Ms. Bird-lover.” Auberon pulled his sister by the arm, shoving her towards the door.

“But–“

BAM BAM BAM BAM

“Okay! Okay, hang on.” The moment her hand touched the door, the banging stopped. Hesitantly, she pulled it open.

Nothing. Only forest. They sighed.

“See? Told you it would go away,” Auberon pulled his jacket tighter. He jumped, however, at Alexina’s scream.

“What are you yelling at?” He shouted. Her eyes were wide as hams, finger outstretched within the cabin. When he and Mouses turned, they almost fell back.

The bird was gone.

“Where’d it go?!” Mouses’s pitch was higher than a rogue balloon.

“Maybe it is the kid,” Alexina whispered.

“Will you both shut up for once? It just–It flew away. Quit being wet blankets.” His own hands were colder than five-cent milkshakes.

“Flew away?! It’s brains were on your kicks, boss!”

“Well you’re walkin around without a brain, shouldn’t be hard for a dumb bird.”

“I want to go home,” Alexina cried.

Hey, if you wanna go out there, I’m not gonna stop you.” Auberon shoved his hands in his pants, keeping them from trembling. “Be a little chicken.”

Alexina stared at the door, hands held tight to her chest. “Maybe I will. I didn’t kill nobody.”

“It’s not the stupid kid! Get over that, will ya?” Sweat was soaking Auberon’s jacket, almost reaching the skull sewn to the back of it.

“Well i’m… i’m gonna high-tail it out of here before I get haunted too.”

 “Wait, Alexina,” Mouses stepped forward, unleashing his dust-particle amount of chivalry, “Maybe you should stay. What if it’s something else?”

“If she wants to leave, she leaves,” Auberon gripped her by the arm, threw open the door, and tossed her outside like last month’s newspapers. She twirled around, face pink,

“Ronnie! You little–“

He slammed the door closed. Speaking through it, “Hurry on home, kid. We don’t want you here.”

Bam bam bam–“RONNIE! OPEN UP!”–Bam bam bam–“I’m serious!”–Bam bam bam–“Don’t leave me here alone!”–Bam bam–

Silence.

Auberon and Mouses exchanged glances.

“You think she’s… okay?” Mouses twitched his nose, eyes wide. Auberon looked between him and the door.

“Yeah. She’s fine.” The air felt dead. Even their breathing seemed muted. “Now, let’s… sit down and… talk about… you know….”

“Sure thing, boss,” Mouses scurried to the couch to take a seat. Before Auberon could even ponder joining him, the young boy let out a wail. He jumped to his feet, rubbing his bottom.

“Sit on a spring, Mouse?” Auberon’s laugh was as shaky as a maraca.

The curly-haired boy looked at the couch, “It didn’t feel like no spring…” His hands searched the cushion. “It feels wet though–BOSS!”

Mousey Mouses’s hand was covered in black ink. He tried to shake it away, but it refused to unlatch from his skin. He smeared it against his jeans. The black turned red.

“What the hell?” Auberon took a step back, “What is that?

“Oh cripes, oh cripes–” In his terror, Mouses’s first instinct was to get away from the dark goo. It was a moment of desperation.

His leader reeled back in disgust. “Mouse! What are you doing!?”

A pair of The Adventure of Superman undershorts were bared to the air. Mouses tossed his jeans to the other side of the room. His pale legs knocked within their high-tops. “Something ain’t right boss.”

“You probably just spilled something,” Auberon marched over, looking down to the cushions. Glancing it over, it seemed fine. No dark spots. Both boys fell to the floor at the scream.

Alexina’s scream.

-To Be Continued-

Oh Golly Gee Willikers, is this going to take two parts too? Next story I think I’ll extend time to 45 minutes, because this is ridiculous.

Thooooouugh it might also be due to the fact I had to look up a ridiculous amount of 50’s references and slang.

Don’t be a drag, daddy-O. *puts on sunglasses and moonwalks away*

Traitor of Sunshine Pt. 2

Space Axum 2

Random Generated Title: Traitor of Sunshine

Random Generated Names: Gavin Elroy SeaverRachel Savannah MorinJachin Seaver

Random Generated Genre:

Suspense-Sci-fi-Drama

Time: 35 Mins (…ish)

Go!

Gavin was barely breathing, stuck looking at the remnants of what was his only idea to save himself. Dr. Morin was watching him, arms still crossed.

“Well? What’s your next bright idea?”

He didn’t answer. Gavin was mulling over all the plans he had for himself, all his goals. Now, he was condemned upon this planet to suffocate and die. All because of her. The face of his younger brother appeared before him. The puny little bastard wouldn’t survive on his own. He had no practical skills, he was too weak to even walk around their home. As soon as the money transfers stopped happening, the woman hired to take care of him would leave. And then…

“No…” He whispered, shaking his head, “No.”

“No?” She scoffed, “Really? I–“

“No, I can’t die right now,” he took a steadying breath, “I can do this. I can figure this out.” Seeming to have forgotten his companion’s existence, he bent upwards, grabbing onto his leg to keep him in place. The branch was curled tighter than he thought–shreds of his thick boot were chipping off. He couldn’t find the end of the curl, but dug into the bundle anyway, pulling at strands in hopes to unwind it.

“Brilliant idea,” Morin remarked, “No one has ever tried to get out of a Spriggon’s Snare by untying it.”

He ignored her, ripping at the branch as hard as he could.

It was loosening. A grin broke through his beard. That was, until– He screamed. The loosened strand re-tightened itself around his finger. It felt like someone dropped a house on it. He pulled as hard as he could, but only accomplished to make the branch hug tighter.

“I would clap,” the good Doctor called out, “But I don’t think the sound would carry.”

Will you shut up?” He growled, gritting his teeth. The pain was spreading to his ankle. Great, just great.  “If you have any ideas, Doctor, would you mind sharing them? Since you seem to be so knowledgeable.

She laughed, “Oh, no this is far too entertaining. Forget execution, this is the best way to die. More the merrier, you know.”

He growled,  “You’re a little crinta, aren’t you?”

Morin gasped, “Excuse me?

If there was anything Gavin was educated in, it was the best ways to offend people on each planet.

“You heard me, Traitor.”

“Just because you went and trapped yourself–“

“Are you aware that you, too, are hanging upside down? After seven months of hiding, you are fine with dying like this?” He twisted so that he could see her burnt face, his own cheeks red with growing agony. She winced, but otherwise seemed calm.

“Can you blame me for wanting to watch my executioner die with me? Besides…” Her yellow eyes flickered to the side, “It’s about time for me to go, anyway.”

He was wiggling his hand, ignoring the pulsing it created. “Wow. Is that your excuse for every terrible thing you’ve done? ‘It’s about time’? Listen, lady, you don’t have the right to determine what should die and when.”

She didn’t answer. It only made him more furious, “You know, I almost felt bad about having to kill you. Now I see you are nothing but a cold, selfish cinta.”

“You know nothing, Bounty Hunter,” she hissed. He glanced over to see the dark streaks under her eyes turn bright orange.

“I know you killed trillions of people, including now, by the way, me–“

“Watch it–”

“And don’t seem to even care!

“You don’t even–”

“And for WHAT discernible reason, I can’t even fathom. There is literally no possible profit, other than to be an evil, cold, monstrous little c–”

IT WASN’T MY FAULT!” Her shrill voice echoed throughout all of space, silencing even the twinkling of the stars. Gavin’s pain went dull for a moment.

His brows knit together, “What?”

Rachel’s eyes were wide, lips parted. The dark streaks under her eyes faded from orange into a mossy green, the Neptunian sign of fear.

“What did you say?” He pressed, forgetting his impending doom.

She closed her eyes, her breathing slowing down. “I…”When her eyes reopened, she looked helpless to him. “It wasn’t me… not… completely.”

“What does ‘not completely’ mean. Was there someone else?”

“Yes… The captain of the station.”

“What? But they said you killed him in order to–”

“Save my planet.”

Gavin looked at her like she was speaking in tongues. “How does that even–”

“It’s… a complicated story.”

“Well, i’m not going anywhere,” he tugged on his hand for emphasis, “Pleeeaase?”

Her gold eyes flickered over him. She sighed, “Since we’re going to die anyway…”

Woo!”

“Okay…  The Captain was… My husband.”

WHAT?” His jaw nearly broke through the glass.

“Can you stop with the commentary, please?”

“Sorry, sorry, go on.” He placed his hand over the glass covering his mouth, nodding. She rolled her eyes.

Anyway… My husband had been Captain for decades before I arrived. And when I did–I was one of the scientists who wanted to test new methods of reviving the sun–we were instantly intrigued with each other. So much so, that we were married on the station within two months.”

Gavin let out a little, “Awww,” but was silenced by her glare.

“I think it was because I loved him so much that I dismissed all the obvious signs… You see, Neptunians were coveted to work on Icarus, because we live so long, we wouldn’t need to be replaced for a century or so. But what no one realized…” She sighed, “Neptune is made of storms, ice, water, clouds. We are used to little to no sun. And when you put our bodies so close to it, it can…alter things a bit. And my husband, who had been near it for over 50 years… His mind was slowly falling apart. I was too stupid to see it. Until, of course, when I caught him sabotaging the ship.”

She was no longer with Gavin. He could see it in her eyes, she was trapped in her memory.

Icarus was tearing itself apart. I tried to reason with him, tried to understand. All he said was ‘She’s been asking me to kill her for 55 years. I understand that now. Rachel, don’t you see? It’s long over-due.'”

Gavin had to withhold his dry laughter. That’s where she got it from.

“I tried to fight him, but he dragged me away from the controls. The core reactor beneath our feet was melting through the floor. He tried pushing me into the smoldering metal. And that’s why…” She lightly touched the glass in front of her marred face, “But I… pushed him in first.” There was a brief silence, her taking a deep breath, “I tried to counter-act his commands, but I knew I was running out of time. I was a 90 second sprint to the emergency ship, and everything was falling. Icarus was dying. So instead of trying to stop it, I tried to contain the inevitable black hole reach to stop at my planet. Then I ran.”

There was a good minute of silence between them. Gavin shook his head, “No, then it wasn’t your fault. It was your husband.”

She smirked, “No, i’m just as responsible. There was one system still intact: If I drained the energy that regulated the oxygen tanks, I could have contained the core long enough for someone to come fix it. But I didn’t want to die. I was worried about myself. And now, trillions of people are dead.”

Another heavy silence fell over them.

“And now… you’re going to let yourself die here?”

Her breath was uneven, “Do I deserve any less?”

A fire shot through his veins, burning every muscle. He scoffed, a false smile on his lips, “Are you telling me–You sacrificed  trillions of people… for nothing?

Her gold eyes flickered back to him, clearly not understanding. It enraged him further,

“No–No you don’t get to do that. You aren’t being a martyr right now, Rachel, you are being selfish. Beyond selfish. Those people gave their lives to give you life. And this–this–is how you thank them? Oh woe is you, ‘I should just die and end it all.’ Well guess what, you are spitting on their graves. You lived for a reason, for a purpose. If you don’t believe in fate or whatever, then you make it happen. Dedicate yourself to creating a cure for some disease, to creating a new sun–anything. No–No I won’t allow this.”

One hand grabbed a hold of the other, and he pulled. With all of his strength, he pulled, each strain coaxing a new scream.

“What–what are you doing?” Rachel’s eyes were wide, green flaring beneath them. “Bounty Hunter! You’re going to hurt yourself–”

“SEAVER!” He screamed at her, pausing only briefly to flash her a weary smile, “My name– is Gavin Seaver. And…” Again, he pulled and pulled, screaming all the while, “I’M SAVING YOUR STUPID LIFE.”

Not only was he tugging, he was twisting. Dr. Morin clawed at the space around her, trying to reach him. “Gavin! No! Your hand will slip out of your glove–”

“THAT’S THE IDEA!”

“It’ll freeze!”

“I KNOW–GAAAH–HOW SPACE–UGH–WORKS.”

“Gavin! Stop–”

His elbow pulled backwards, hand freed at last. Rachel grabbed at her helmet, dread consuming her at the sight of his flesh.

“Son of a cinta!” He flailed his free hand around in the space, fingers uncurling and curling. “That’ is cold!” The suit’s sleeve was clamped tightly around his forearm, but that wouldn’t keep the cold from spreading. Now he was twisting his hips, yanking at his boot.

“No–please–you’re going to die!” The weight of that realization was nearly crippling, “Please–Gavin–Not another one. I can’t kill another one.”

“What’s one in 50 Trillion?” He grit his teeth, ignoring the uncomfortable swelling around his bare skin. “And didn’t you say you’d want to see your executioner die?”

A roar escaped his lips, the branch tightening and tightening around his ankle.

“I’m sorry, I was just being–” She shrieked, seeing the thin material of his sock now bared to space.

“WOW that is COLD.” The shaking was subtle, but she could see it clearly. She watched his descent with panic,

“Gavin! Run! Run to your ship! You can still make it–”

“Jachen Seaver,” he said as he landed upon the rocky surface, “On Moon X, District 12. He’s my brother, and I’m gonna ask you to take care of him, alright?” He bounced towards his gun, using only his booted foot, as if he were playing hop-scotch. “If you want to save someone, save him.”

The green glow on her face lit up her entire helmet, “Gavin, please, run–”

Gavin turned to her, holding the weapon with one hand. He clumsily used his bared hand–now a faint blue–to steady the gun. He aimed down the sights with a smile, “It’s gonna be really funny if I end up shooting you.”

She stiffened.

ZAP!

The orange bolt missed.

“That was for practice. Now for real…” The Bounty Hunter was used to firing with his right hand. Which, at the present, was as useful as a brick glued to his arm. The icy atmosphere was creeping up his veins.

ZAP! ZAP! ZAP!

The cool temperature seeping into his suit mixed with his hot breath–fogging up the glass. He could barely see.

ZZZT. ZZZT.

It was out of ammo.

“Oh, come on, baby…” He tucked the gun under one arm, using the other to clumsily search his pockets for the jelly-filled container. Luckily, he knew his gun inside and out, and could load it without having to see.

Rachel’s face couldn’t choose between the bright green of fear or the dark pink of heart-break.

“Okay, darling, I have some bad news…” He took a hesitant breath, “I can’t see all that well. So i’m going to have to.. have to toss it to you. Do you think you can catch it?”

Panic filled her belly, turning her core to ice. “But–But can you even see me?”

“My Darling Doctor, what makes you happy?”

“Wh–What? What kind of question–?”

“Consider it a dying request. Tell me what makes you happy. Puppies, rainbows… Your pre-crazy husband?”

Happiness seemed like a foreign concept to her, but she tried. “My… Mother. And my sisters.”

“Ah, you have siblings, too? What are they like?”

“Both of them are younger, by at least 6 decades. The older one wants to be a dancer, the little one wants to be a scientist… like me.”

“That’s adorable,” breathing was becoming uncomfortable, but he talked through it. “Did you help her with school science projects? Do they have those on Neptune?”

“We…We have something similar.”

“Did you win?”

“…Yes, yes we won.” A small smile crept on her face,  “It was–”

“There! Keep thinking about that!” He used his good arm to raise the gun. “Tell me about her smile, Rachel. What was it like?”

The Neptunian was confused, but followed orders, “Her smile was… adorable, she was never so happy. And it was because of me–”

It was then that she realized her helmet was an almost blindingly bright yellow. So bright that even he could see it through the haze. With all his remaining energy he tossed the gun. It made its slow journey towards her. She reached out, gripping the nozzle before it flew past her.

“Point and shoot, Dr. Morin. You should… be able to… manage that.” The yellow was fading once more to green, but she was not going to waste any more time.

ZAP! ZAP! The branch unfurled, like a monster spewing out bad food. Kicking off the limp branch, she floated down. With a couple bounces, she made it to him. She kneeled down, placing the gun beside him. “Gavin?”

The skin around his face was a faint blue. The whirring of his goggles was minimal. “Good… work… dear…” Each breath was a wheeze.

“Come on, Gavin, we can make it to my ship,” she pulled him forward, trying to get him to stand. He held up his wrist, showing her the watch.

OXYGEN: 7 minutes

“I don’t…think so… dear…”

“If we hurry, maybe I–”

“What is… my brother’s name?”

“I–Jachen? Jachen Seavers?”

“Good. Where…?”

“Moon X, district 12.”

“Take care of him… for me…okay?”

She grabbed his helmet as if it were a precious treasure, then pressed it up against her own. Her cheeks were glowing turquoise, jaw clenching.

“Aw, don’t be… so blue.” He chuckled, “Get it? It’s… a pun.”

“Oh shut up,” she half-smiled.

“Don’t let us die… for no reason…” His face was completely blue, lips bright red. “Tell Jachen… I…”

His jaw froze shut. Not that it mattered, his tongue was swelling too large to speak audibly. She gently lowered him down. Then, holding the gun steady, she shot him twice in the chest.

“I’ll save him,” she promised, “I’ll save everyone. I won’t… I won’t let them die in–”

ZAP!

Her hand covered the gaping hole in her chest. Slowly, she floated down to the rocky terrain, a trail of black blobs hovering behind her. The bright gold of her eyes stared blankly into a space. Her hand absently searched for Gavin’s, cheeks glowing green.

A blurry figure emerged in her vision. It chuckled.

“Got ya,” A gun was pointed to her face, “Traitor of Sunshine.”

 

 

-End-

 

Wow, that took forever to finish.

Onto the next one!

 

 

Traitor of Sunshine

Space Axum 2

Random Generated Title: Traitor of Sunshine

Random Generated Names: Gavin Elroy SeaverRachel Savannah Morin

Random Generated Genre:

Suspense-Sci-fi-Drama

Time: 35 Minutes

Warning: 99% Chance of being completely scientifically inaccurate XD

Go!

Within minutes of bouncing on the planet’s surface, Gavin determined that what he was looking for was here. The large goggles fastened tight to his head whirred with each eye movement in order to add layers upon layers of artificial light. Shapes were blurred, and the colors were likely inaccurate, but it was the only way he, or anyone else, could see outside now that the sun was gone.

It happened about 7 months ago, give or take a week–It was hard to be precise with the main method of time-keeping now erased–and the event annihilated not only Earth, but the black hole it created sucked up all planets up to Neptune. Luckily, there were colonies on other moons, other planets, and those remaining were going strong.

It was no accident, however. And the one who caused the fall of 96% of the human race was somewhere, hiding. There was only a handful of places that the culprit could have reached before the star was exploded. Having been a bounty hunter before then, Gavin was fairly good at predicting where his prey would flee to.

The small furnace on his chest was keeping him nice and warm, but he had only a few hours before he had to return to the ship to recharge. It shouldn’t take that long.

Rocks littered most of the planet–on his screen they were a bright white–but there were thickets of what resembled trees with branches permed into tight curls. These appeared dark gray, with long streaks of burnt orange running around the trunks like an out-stretched slinky. And since they appeared to be ‘alive’, there was likely some form of water or food to scavenge.That, and the fact that he couldn’t see far into the forest itself, made him certain that his target was here.

He entered into the embrace of the misshapen trees, the nozzle of his gun leading his every step. Certainly they were expecting someone to have been sent, and it was likely there would be traps. When he was a few yards inward, the goggles on his face scanned the earth, the trees, for any sort of markings. One hand instinctively reached upwards to stroke the thick, dark beard within his helmet. Instead his hand rammed into the thick glass, “Son of a–” He flicked his gloved hand outwards, cheeks burning. Luckily there was no one around to witness his idiocy.

With a huff, he stomped further into the woods, itching to shoot something to regain his honor. His heavy boots stomped atop one of the protruding roots.

He was upside down.

One of the curled tree branches was now wrapped firmly around his ankle. “You cant–be seri–ous–“ His free foot was kicking at the branch, body flailing. After perhaps a little too long, he finally remembered his gun. Looking downwards, he made the unfortunate discovery that it was about ten feet out of his reach. “Of course.

Moving his free knee towards and away from himself in order to get the curled branch to bounce, his hands went straight forward, back, forward, gaining momentum– he was slowly advancing upon it. Eight feet. Six feet. Five feet. Five feet. Five feet. Gavin pushed himself harder, fingers clawing at the emptiness above the gun.

“You are never going to get it,” a voice remarked with heavy amusement. He tried to still himself, but his body was still bouncing up and down like a yo-yo. With a couple whirrs from his glasses, he spotted a figure swagger into his view. It a thin, form-fitting armor beneath a dark green cloak; The folds of which were floating in wave-like ripples.

Pressing a button on his suit in order to be heard, “Well, that’s not a very positive attitude.”

“If I had a positive attitude, I’d believe that you weren’t here to kill me.”

He grinned, shrugging as he continued his slow bounce, “‘Kill’ is such a harsh word… ‘Putting down’ is much nicer,” He chuckled, “So you really are the Traitor of the Sunshine?”

She–it was definitely a she, with that sweet timbre–cackled, “Is that what they’re calling me?”

“Considering you shut down the station that’s been feeding the sun the carbon dioxide it needs to keep burning… It’s a pretty accurate title.”

She crossed her arms, and though he couldn’t see her face under the hood, he was sure she was smirking, “It was long over-due, anyway.”

“So… what, that’s it? ‘It was long over-due’? I was expecting… more.”

“A diabolical villain?” She circled around him slowly, the cape trailing behind her–but not touching the ground, as if she had invisible minions holding it up for her. Gavin watched her approach closer, closer, before her head tilted downward.

“No no no no no–” He tried to grab at her head, but she dodged him easily before kicking the gun away from him. It floated away helplessly until it hit the nearest tree. Gavin shot her a glare underneath his thick frames, “That was diabolical.”

“Oh, well, might as well keep it up.” She shrugged, “Do you have any puppies I can kick?”

“Okay, listen here–” She turned around, clearly not caring and gave him a wave,

“So long, bounty hunter.”

“WAIT!” He felt his heartbeat rise, “I–Listen, I don’t have to kill you. I can bring you back alive.”

She twisted around, laughing once more. Clasping her hands, she stepped forward, “Oh, golly, that’s so kind. Formal execution is so much more appealing. Listen to this, there is no way I–AGH!”

They were now side by side, upside down.

Gavin burst into laughter so loud that it seemed to echo across the planet. He couldn’t even see, his vision blurred from the tears forming. She snarled,

“Hey that’s not–” He kept laughing, “Will you–” More laughing, “You know what–”

“No, no–” He tried to speak through his giggles, “I’m sorry, what were you saying? There was no way–what?”

He noticed then that her hood had fallen from her helmet. This silenced him. She was Neptunian. If his goggles were off about her blue skin, those gold eyes were unmistakable. Even through the burn marks that covered half of her face.

Her expression went from flustered fury, to deathly stillness. He didn’t understand, she escaped the blast–but even if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have just escaped with being barely scathed.

“What… happened?” He asked.

“Nothing.” She bared her sharpened teeth, “Focus more on the present, please. How are we to get down?”

Gavin reluctantly bit his tongue on the subject, “Fine. Well, Miss… What was your name? In the report… Rambo Martino, was it?”

“Dr. Rachel Morin,” she curtly corrected.

“Well, Rachel,” His grin was wide, arms outspread, “You–so brilliantly–kicked away our only weapon that could possibly get us down.”

She sneered, “Do you always focus on the past?”

He wanted to drag his palms down his face but just barely saved himself from ramming his fingers into the glass again. “Okay. Alright. Let’s see…” His goggles scanned the surroundings, hoping that perhaps guns and knives were a natural formation on this planet. Nothing but roots and rocks.

“Hmm… Rachel–”

“Dr. Morin–”

“Dr. Moron, is your cloak made of normal fibers? Not some weird Neptunian armor-cloth?”

She hissed,  “Just cloth.”

“Okay, good, take it off.”

What?”

“Just trust me, please.”

Her yellow eyes narrowed, but she ripped it off with the attitude of  a grumpy child. The metalic suit underneath hugged her body very well, and was very much more advanced that the baggy, bulky thing he was wearing. Gavin took the offering with a smile, “You think you’d have more faith, Dr. Mormon.”

The dark streaks under her eyes were growing red, “If I get that gun, Bounty Hunter, I’m going to shoot you with it.”

“Hush, darling, Daddy’s working.” His fingers twirled the material into a thick rope, then tied it into a slip knot. With a great heave, he tossed the knot at a protruding root. It did not miss…technically.  It was floating a couple inches above the target.

Are you kidding me–“ Gavin took a deep breath, ignoring the laughter beside him, “That was just a warm-up.”

He reeled back, tossing it with all of his force, but, again, the gravity wouldn’t let it fall. It isn’t heavy enough. He patted himself down, searching the nooks and crannies of his suit.

“Dr. Martian, did you bring anything you wouldn’t mind me borrowing?”

She scoffed, “Like what?”

“Something to weigh down my knot.”

Rachel crossed her arms with a dry smile, “No, I keep most things on my ship.”

“Well that’s just peachy,” he continued to search himself. There was some ammo, but it was all jelly, and even lighter than her cloak. His hand rested on the buttons on his chest, pondering.

“Oh! I got it–” He stretched out his lasso to where it was again hovering just above the target. As gently as he could muster, he pressed on the oxygen burst button-An explosion of air shot from his back and pushed him forward enough to wrap the knot around the root. “Woo!” He shouted victoriously, “Did you see that–?”

The force that brought him forward was counter-balanced by the tree’s curls, and the branch pulled him upwards. He held onto the cloak, to prevent his springing.

He ripped it in half.

“Oh, yes,” Dr. Morin growled, “That was magnificent.”

He stared at the torn cloth in his hands with wide, hollowed eyes. The up and down bounce he was once again trapped in didn’t lesson the horror slowly overcoming him.

We are going to die.

His eyes flickered down to the band on his wrist. Oxygen: 1 hour 15 minutes. Heat: 2 hours 11 minutes. Gavin looked back at the cloth in his hands. The ship was half an hour’s journey from here.

am going to die.

 

 

 

— To Be Continued!–

I just about went over my original 35 min mark, and I think i’m only halfway done, so this will have to take up two coffee shop visits 😀

I Live In Nightmares

Word Sepia 4

Randomly Generated Names: Anabel, Roland Matthews, Normand (ew)

Randomly Generated Genre: History/Drama (1700’s America!)

Randomly Generated Title: I Live In Nightmares

Time: 30 Minutes

Go!

Roland’s ashy eyes were fixated, like a predator, upon the young girl sitting before him. His expression was cold, composed, and effectively hiding all the disgust he held for her continued existence. Her dress was overly extravagant; golden folds of the cloth a harsher reflection to the soft yellow waves of her hair. A sweet little thing, with smooth skin, pink lips, and bright, eager eyes. She was 17, a full 8 years younger than him. She was also his new wife.

The new Mrs. Matthews stirred her tea contentedly, watching the cube of sugar disappear beneath the black waters. With each clink of the spoon hitting the porcelain Roland visibly winced. Her large, hazel eyes flickered up and finally noticed his stare. She stiffened, the spoon gradually slipping from her fingers and to the saucer underneath the up. Her smile was awkward, ugly.

“This is a lovely dining establishment, Mr. Matthews–Oh, um–Roland. I suppose it doesn’t make sense not to call my husband by his first name.” Her dainty little laugh died quickly, observing that he didn’t find it as amusing as she. His face had hardly moved. She pulled her teacup to her chest, whispering a soft, “Alright then” before taking a sip. This lovely little specimen went by the name of Isabel. Not that it mattered to Roland, all he saw her as was the woman who murdered his best friend.

He had been against the marriage from the start, finding women more trouble than they were worth. Normand, however, had been an encouraging match-maker. He was a little younger than Roland, with an oval face and shaved head. His eyes were pointed down slightly, traces of a legacy far across the globe that Roland found rather endearing.

“Come now,” Normand’s smile was wide enough to round his cheeks, “Isabel really enjoyed your company.”

All women do,” Roland replied, bored, “And she’s too young.”

“Perhaps, but she seems genuinely interested in knowing you, not your money. I have a good feeling about this one. Please, Roland, I want to see you happy.”

The irony was near palpable. The little Lady before him wanted to be wed upon her parent’s estate, far from sensible civilization and with barely a road to follow. It was no wonder that Normand ended up… Roland closed his eyes a moment, gathering his composure. All because she wanted a romantic evening by her parent’s lake.

“Roland…” Her soft voice was almost a caress to his cheek, beckoning him to look at her, “Might I… Might I ask you something?”

His dark eyes flashed open once more, gaze fixated on her. It was a struggle to hold back the hiss, “What is it, Isabel?”

“I don’t know if this is inappropriate… But… Why don’t we… Share a bed?”

There was no answer that would be appropriate, and he did not feel the effort to try to think of one.

“Is it because…” She tried again, “Of your… um… condition?”

SLAM!

Roland’s fist was trembling slightly against the table. The surrounding guests all threw alarmed looks at them.

“I have nightmares,” he said through gritted teeth, “And I would prefer not to strangle you in the heat of one of them. Even if you did deserve it.”

The girl shrunk down into her chair, limited by her tight corset. She was genuinely horrified.

“I… what?” Her hand went to her bared collarbones, “Why would you say that?”

“Oh surely you can guess,” he threw at her, fist tightening.

“I absolutely do not! Roland–you’re scaring me. Is this a part of your…?”

“This has nothing to do with me. This has to do with the fact that I had to watch my friend die just so I could marry you. And what a pleasant time it’s been, hasn’t it?”

Her jaw fell open, eyes near-circles. “I… What are you talking about?”

“What? Did no one tell you?” He was genuinely surprised, “So that’s how you’ve been living with a clear conscious. Well, my dear, on our trip to your horrid estate, we…”

The burden placed on his chest was almost too painful to bear. He felt he couldn’t breathe, but he had already started. His hand went over his mouth a moment, trying again to regain sanity. This was an incident that had haunted him every night for days. The expression on Normand’s face…

“We… We were attacked. Bandits, or some other pathetic form of human life.”

Isabel gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. It was a muffled, “Bandits?” She leaned forward, “What did they look like? Who were they?”

“I… I didn’t quite see,” he was forced to admit, “One of them had knocked me out before I could do anything. But Normand… and our driver…” Bile coated his tongue, “They were near dead. I tried to help my friend… but… There was so much blood.” Roland had to take off his hat, running his fingers through his dark hair.

“You… blacked out?” Isabel timidly asked. He knew what she was thinking, and it only made him angrier.

“I didn’t imagine the attack, Isabel. How else do you explain the fact that Normand is now dead? Well?”

Her eyes were still in that rounded state. “You said you were covered in blood–even though you didn’t see the attack? How did so much get on you?”

He stood, face red with fury, “Don’t turn this on me, you witch. We were attacked, and that’s that.”

Isabel shrunk into her seat, eyes flickering from side to side to the other customers. When she looked back to her new husband, she spoke slowly, “Normand… Did the bandits… Take anything?”

This caused Roland to stiffen.

“Well–not from me. I think they tried to steal from Normand, but he had fought back–“

“And they decided to run away after killing him?”

“Listen, whore, I don’t know the motivations of bandits. They’re from around your house, perhaps they’re as dimwitted as the rest of your family.”

There were a few gasps around them, but Roland’s focus didn’t falter from the woman before him. She took a long, slow breath. “When was the last time you’ve been to your–“

“Oh, what? You think I have something to do with the attack?”

It was as if a switch had been turned, and the girl’s face was suddenly deathly calm, “Roland, what was your friend’s name?”

“Are you deaf, woman? Normand.”

“His full name.”

“Normand…” Roland paused, scrunching up his nose, “What does this have to do with anything?”

“Roland,” she spoke calmly, “You arrived at the wedding with your parents.”

He stilled, looking her up and down. He winced; a bead of sweat fell into his eye. “I-I think I’d remember that.”

“Is Normand even–“

“Don’t you dare,” he threatened, baring his teeth.

“When was the last time you went to your–“

SHUT UP!” He shouted, wiping the sweat away from his eyes, “I don’t need to listen to this.”

One of the customers’ rested a hand on his shoulder, accompanied by a low voice, “Alright, alright, let’s talk about this later. How about you head on home, i’ll escort you.”

Roland twisted away from the stranger’s hand. “Listen, I don’t need anyone to–“

It was Normand. He was standing in front of him, hands held up defensively. “Sorry.”

Roland couldn’t feel most of his body. Was he real? His heart was pounding in his throat. Surely this wasn’t another… Could Isabel see him, too?

“Isabel…” He said, voice trembling, “This man… Is he…?”

He turned to her– only to find that she was no longer there. Even her teacup was gone.

Normand placed his hand on Roland’s shoulder again, more gently.

“Roland… when was the last time you saw your doctor?”

 -End-