Mage Of Eternity


Randomized Title: Mage of Eternity

Randomized Names:

Krishna CardozoAoide (Aye-oh-dee) Leofflæd (Lee-oh-flad) Delaney *

*Note: I almost re-randomized past this name–which I rarely do–because looking at it hurt my eyes, but the girl next to me at the coffee shop went through the trouble of looking up the pronunciation and I’d feel changing it so here it is.

NEW Randomized Songs:

Riptide – Vance Joy, Needed Me – Rihanna, Daydreaming – Radiohead, Pompeii – Bastille, Don’t Let Me Down – Chainsmokers, and Seven Nation Army – The White Stripes

Random Theme:

Fantasy/Suspense (whoops, forgot to crop the pic)

Time: 45 min


The bones in Aoide’s fingers were frozen together, making it hard to turn the pages of the library’s last tome. A small candle flickered before her dark eyes, caressing the long black strands framing her face as well as washing her skin of any color. It threatened to go out every five minutes or so, but a lazy flick of her wrist sent it ablaze once more. The only warmth provided to her was her passionate desire to find him. The man who could give her the power she needed.


Aiode stiffened, eyes scrambling throughout the darkness to find the source. She was in the library of a castle buried beneath the surface of the earth–so deep that only a proper spell can get you in. Her white fingers tucked the dusty book into the silky satchel at her hip.

Lifting the candle high, she placed her hand directly over the flame. With a sharp hiss, “Augeo!”

Removing her hand, the fire expanded wide, illuminating the entire room. Her black eyes, alive with the red of the flames, scanned every inch of the library with precision. Broken shelves and askew books were seemingly her own company.


A furry creature scurried forward. It scratched at the stone, dark fur tipped with gold. It’s tiny ears pricked upwards as it got closer, revealing itself to be– a rat. Aoide’s eyes narrowed. One hand stilled the metal base of the candle, the other pulled forth a dagger from her bag.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded through clenched teeth, words falling like clouds from her lips. The little rodent cocked its head to the side, but didn’t appear to comprehend her words. It scurried about the floor, sniffing and scratching.

“I am no fool,” Aoide stepped forward, chest held high, “I have read hundreds of books on magic. Transmutation is not unheard of to me.”

The helpless creature fell over and rolled into a little furry ball. Aoide looked from side to side, wondering if perhaps this was a distraction. Bright light and dancing shadows. Her eyes returned to the furry creature, now hugging its own tail. It couldn’t be a simple animal, it just couldn’t be. Logically, nothing could survive here. Then again, she never heard of many other modern-day magic users that it could be. One in Transylvania, one in Canada, and her grandmother were all she knew. None of which ever believed the Mage of Eternity was real.

Kneeling down, Aoide replaced her dagger with a chunk of stone. If it really was a person…they wouldn’t let themselves get hurt simply to trick someone. She raised her fist above her head, hesitant at the possibility of harming the adorable creature that was currently on its back and kicking playfully in the air. She took a breath laden with ice in an attempt to strengthen her. It was her that would find the eternal mage, no one else. With a quick flick of her arm, the stone went sailing into the rodent’s skull. It let out one sharp scream, then collapsed. Aoide dropped the candle, hands covering her mouth in horror. The bewitched light dimly lit the unmoving creature. She ran to it, falling to her knees. Her hands gently rested on the soft fur.

It wasn’t moving.

“Oh god, oh god, i’m so sorry,” she whispered, lifting the animal in her arms. Think, think, think–Can I save it? She couldn’t breathe through the welling in her chest. Though she considered herself a jaded magic user, she couldn’t bear to see anything innocent hurt–even if its circumstances for existing made not the least bit of sense.

She carried it to the seat she had been reading on, placing the candle close to it (even though the heat it provided was minimal). Its fur was matted, stained with black goo. Her fingers pet between its ears–crack. Her finger sunk in a little, and she immediately pulled away. Oh god. She was never good at healing spells. It’s rib cage expanded, just the smallest bit. She had to try. Her palm pressed against its stomach “Deo cura est…” Light bloomed over the creature, starting at its center, reaching for–

Laughter echoed throughout the room, causing Aoide to bring her hands to her chest. The sound was high, mocking. The young mage locked her jaw.

“Who’s there?” Her ascent was slow, controlled, fingers facing upwards–ready for either a defensive or aggressive spell to guide them.

“Where have you been hiding?” It was a woman’s voice, deep, with the sharp characteristic of a villain. More laughter, “I thought there were only three others.”

Aoide forced her face to remain passive, “Clearly you were wrong,” She crinkled up her nose, “Are you going to remain hiding the rest of the conversation?”

“Sassy…” The light change color. Aoide looked to the candle behind her, seeing the icy blue flame replacing orange. It made the furry animal look like a cold corpse. She went to move it out of the way, but–the ceiling exploded, forcing her backwards. Or rather, something was spawned from the air in such an abrupt fashion that it pushed aside anything nearby.

Sitting on the cold stone, Aoide was forced to look up to the young woman before her. They looked to be the same age, with similar dark hair, only this girl had hers pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her clothes were fairly unassuming–red pants, a long black trench coat, and dark leather satchel.

“Oh sorry,” said the girl, puckering her lips, “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“Trust me, you didn’t,” Aoide bluffed through her light blue lips. She stood on frozen knees, flexing her toes. “If anything, I’m baffled by your lack of manners.”

“How rude of me,” the girl exclaimed with a sigh, “Well let me introduce myself, at least. My name is Krishna. And you?”

Aoide looked her up and down with a frown. “Leofflæd,” she said casually. There was a book she read once that talked of spells you can cast if you learn a person’s first name. But, just in case “Krishna” was casting a detect lie, it wouldn’t be caught, since Leofflæd was, technically, her name–albeit her middle.

Leofflæd?” The girl cackled, “Your parents must have hated you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Aoide  sneered. “Now, what do you want?”

She saw the hitch in Krishna’s breath, re-examining Aoide’s response, but she quickly pushed past it, “Same as you, I’m sure. The Mage…” Krishna stepped forward, causing Aoide to step back. “Who takes one pupil every few centuries.”

They both stared each other down, eyes narrowed. The air around them was suspended in motion, holding its breath.

Aoide shattered the silence, “What do you need him for?”

Krishna looked genuinely perplexed by the question. A half-smile spread across her lips, “A promise I made to someone. And, unfortunately, I don’t break my word.” There, for the first time since her grand arrival, the other girl’s face softened. She was trapped in a memory–

Memoria illius laqueo!” A white frost erupted from Aoide’s fingers, spraying Krishna’s face. The white mist splattered in the air, just before reaching Krishna’s skin. The girl’s eyes widened, taking a step back.

Dammit, Aoide’s lips pulled into a deep frown. She should have anticipated a shield. Krishna’s recovered, lips in a scowl, “So I guess we aren’t rock-paper-scissoring it?” Her pale hands wove together, a ball of green rolling within her palm. Aoide watched, half curious at the spell that she had yet to read about.

“I guess the question is…” Krishna’s ball got bigger, illuminating her face with sickly green, “How bad do you want it?”

Aoide bared her teeth, “You have no idea.”

The green ball went sailing towards her. Aoide flicked her wrist, causing the ball to stop mid-air, spinning uselessly. After three seconds, it spun backwards, returning to the user. Krishna growled, ‘grabbing’ the ball from the air. She pressed her palms together, but before it was completely smothered it exploded in her hands. She yelped, but it didn’t seem like the damage was too extreme.

Igniculus!” A flurry of sparks shot towards Krishna.

The other woman hissed, palms held outwards,“Pulsus!

A loud screech punched through the air, making the sparks explode between them. The sound sharpened, digging in Aoide’s ears, carving into her brain. She pressed her hands to the sides of her head, screaming to counteract the noise. While her hands were busy, Krishna shot an icy shard through the air. The coldness of the room slowed Aoide’s reflexes, and she felt a shot of ice rip through the outside of her ribs. She fell to her knees, still suffering from the screech. Surely it would end soon–spells can’t last too long. Another icy shard, headed for Aoide’s stomach. She jumped to her feet, but it tore through the outside of her thigh.

Blood was dripping down her right side, freezing as it touched the air. Shit, shit, shit! She was about as dead as the rat on the other side of the room.

The screeching stopped.

Aoide unclasped her head, immediately shooting ropes of fire to the other girl. Krishna jumped to the side, effectively dodging four of them–but the fifth wrapped around her elbow. Her jacket burst into flame. Krishna screamed, waving her arm frantically. Seeing her attempt at extinguishing the flame useless, she tossed both her satchel and her jacket to the floor, revealing a cropped black long-sleeve shirt. She immediately bent down to her satchel, set aflame by the jacket. “No, no, no–” Her hands were digging through the bag, wincing each time her hand made contact with the fire. Her arm reeled back, something in hand. Aoide paused, brows knit. It was a little stuffed cat–stained and missing an ear. Krishna held it close to her chest, panting. There was a love there that Aoide hadn’t seen before.

“Krishna!” Aoide screamed with a jarring abruptness. Krishna looked up, her hazel eyes alarmed.


The toy was ripped from her arms, and pulled into Aoide’s. It took a minute for her to process it–but Krishna’s face immediately darkened. “Give. It. Back.”

“If you agree to leave,” she was sure to add, “In a Promise.

“You’re sick,” Krishna spat. There was a heavy silence between them. Aoide squeezed the limp cat between her fingers. The other girl winced, taking a deep breath, “Fine.” She thrust her arm outwards, ready for the handshake. Holding the cat tight, Aoide stepped forward.

“No tricks,” Aoide said calmly.

“No tricks,” Krishna agreed. Their hands touched.


The power of both of their spells sent them flying backwards. The impact of the wall nearly knocked Aoide out. The world was distorted, and her ears were ringing. Something… there was some noise….something like… When her ears regained their function, she realized it was a scream. She looked to Krishna on the other side. Her arm was held up–what was left of it. Blood and bone was all that remained of her forearm. Aoide looked down to her own hand. All but her thumb was gone, obliterated to the bone. She stared at it, unable to process that it belonged to her. She flexed her hand, and watched as only her thumb pulled inwards.

Crimson pooled around both of them, the magic exciting the blood to keep pumping. No… No I… Her body was paralyzed.

An orange light burst from the other side of the room, drawing both girls’ gazes. The chair was glowing, the ball of light getting larger and larger. Aoide watched with a dumb expression, her face numb. The light disappeared, replaced by a man in tattered robes. Blood glistened through his dark hair, dripping down an aged face. His expression was empty, cold. The girls stared at him with such disbelief that their arms were forgotten. He shifted only slightly, before falling completely still.

Krishna’s head turned slowly towards Aoide. “Did you…kill… the Mage of Eternity?

The flame in the room dwindled into a tiny spark. Aoide closed her eyes, head falling back,


The light went out.


The End


Girl Without Time


Random Title: Girl Without Time

Random Genre: girl-without-time

Random Names: Zhi StacyReilly Gagliardi, Khurshid Van Kann

Time: 45 min


Her fingers dashed across the keyboard in a near hum, underscoring the alarm blaring through the halls. The red lights lit up Zhi’s small form, her gold hair, and glimmered off of the equipment fastened to her pale skin. With each cry of the horn behind her, she pushed her fingers to move faster.

Lieutenant Stacy, you have been charge with high treason…

crack drew her pale blue eyes upwards, to witness the gradual collapse of the roof. Her eyebrows knit together–the first true sign of emotion she had yet to reveal. Please, Reilly, hang in there.

The crime of aiding an enemy species…

The thin screen in front of her was showing her nothing but errors and red signs. How they revoked her numbers so quickly was astounding to even her. They had only discovered her crime just an hour ago. The collar on her neck was pulsing with light, and it took all her willpower not to grab at it. It was a matter of time before it would kill her, but not before she saved Reilly.

Accusations of theft, bribery, smuggling and trafficking of a banned species...

She screamed, barely reeling her arm back from the chunk of obsidian that fell. Collapsing to the floor, she grabbed at her forearm. Her fingers…they weren’t moving. No, not now. Not when the ship is eating itself. She struggled to stand. An entire species will die if she doesn’t stop it. Her left eye whirred, adjusting the focus onto the millions of small numbers darting across the screen. The uninjured hand tried its best to keep up the pace prior, but was failing horridly.

And murder of a fellow Officer. Thus, you are to be given the same punishment as our enemy species…

Her fingers dug into the keys, her human eye filling with tears. Warm goo trickled between her fingers. She gave it a quick glance, ignoring the fact that her government uniform was ripped…by the bone protruding from her skin.

Lieutenant Stacy…You have been sentenced to…

She fell down, screaming in synchronization with the alarms.


Okay, okay, Her chest was heaving, Think. What else is there? The collar at her neck tightened, bringing her to a gasp. The alarms rung loud, the walls were crumbling, and the cold, composed officer was breaking down with the rest of the ship.

Zhi grabbed at her face, features twisted. Think, think, think. Her eyes glanced upwards, throat dry. The codes weren’t budging. She had to accept that. If she could not stop the ship from its self-destruction… She sprung to her feet with new life, darting down the hall. There should be an emergency escape pod. There had to be. Every ship is supposed to have one. The newer ships were so well-built that everyone simply forgot that they existed anymore. But there should be. She needed to find Reilly.

Reilly…The one creature to ever break Lieutenant Zhi Stacy, to fill a defeated woman with boundless stamina. She leaped up the stairs, reaching the cargo haul within a minute. That’s where she commanded Reilly’s people to go and wait. It was the most structurally secure location in the ship, and largest room to house her diminutive-populated species. Her uninjured arm slid the heavy door open.

The vast room held a collection of boxes against the back wall, and seemingly nothing else. “Reilly!” She screamed through ragged breaths, “Reilly, where are you?”



The ground shuddered and convulsed beneath her. “Reilly, where–”

“Lieutenant Zhi Stacy, is that you?” Click, click, click… The polished shoes of yet another officer of the Union stepped from behind a support beam. A young man with the proud stature of a hawk, and the round, intense eyes of a snake. He may have been handsome, if not for burn marks running from his lip to the back of his head. In the light, the white of his skull was visible through the thin flesh.

“Kurshid Van Kann…” Zhi spat on the ground, “I thought I killed you.”

“Oh, yes, so did I. But, alas, here I am.” His smile pushed the distorted flesh on his cheeks together in an accordion fashion. “But not without scars, I assure you.”

“What do you want, Kurshid? And where are the others?”

The young man cackled with the enthusiasm of a court jester. “If only you would have been here just a few minutes ago. You could have seen it.”

A chill clawed down her chest, to her stomach, to her knees–she was paralyzed. “What…What are you talking about?” Her voice, often so composed, dropped into the desperate whisper of a child, “Where’s Reilly?”

“Did it bring you pleasure, Lieutenant? To watch me fall to my death while you and your alien lover ran off into the sunset? Leaving me in the barren desert…bones and rocks spearing my body…”

Zhi’s cold fingers wrapped around the gun fastened to her side. “Kann, I killed you once, and i’m not afraid to do it again.”

His chuckle was low, “A pretty thing, you know, considering. How did you come up with the name Reilly?”

“Zhi?” The lithe creature laying beside her whispered, “Can I have a name? A human name?” Her bright purple eyes watched Zhi with an innocent wonder. The long rabbit-like ears at her side twitched impatiently, “Please, Zhi? I want to be like you. I want us to be normal. And.. happy.”

The brief flood of happiness soured the quaking fear, nearly making her vomit. Still, she kept herself collected. Her arm extended, gun focused on the head of the man before her, “Answer me.”

Another quake sent both of them reeling backwards. They didn’t have long.


“Do you know how we unload the cargo room, Lieutenant?”

“What are you talking about?” Her eyes scanned the area, settling on the back wall. Behind all the boxes was a seam in the metal–meant to open outwards to receive any supply deliveries. All the muscles in her face fell.

“No, you didn’t–”

“One button and WOOSH! Like a vacuum, right into space.”

Her body was torn in a hundred directions. Fear, pain, heartache–Rage. Pure, blinding rage.

“You couldn’t imagine the suffering,” his voice low, “Of being gnawed on by insects you were too weak to swat away. And all the while I couldn’t wait for the day I–”

AAAARRRGGGG!” She pounced, hands clutching his throat. Even her crushed hand dug into his dark skin, revived by the pain that pumped through her entire body. His eyes bulged, breath strained. He swatted at her, but she slammed his head into the cold floor– Again and again and again, trying to dig a crater with his head.

“I like ‘Reilly’,” The pale blue creature whispered, “Yeah… I feel so human already.” She rested her head against Zhi’s shoulder, “I can’t wait until we’re far, far away from this place…”

Zhi stopped only to ram her fist in his skull as hard as she could.

Reilly pulled at her ears, “How can you like me, looking like this?” The dots across her cheeks lit up red, giving her the appearance of freckles. Zhi smiled, “I don’t.”

The Lieutenant was screaming. After the third hit, Kurshid finally threw her off. Her head bounced against the thick floor. Everything went hazy.

“What?” Reilly stood, ‘freckles’ ablaze. “I thought you said–“ Zhi pulled her back down and into her arms, “Because I love you, little rabbit.”

The rage launched her forward once more, but found only a foot in her ribs, knocking her back down. She screamed loud enough to deafen the alarms. It was not in pain, but the only way her mind could express, I’m going to kill you.

She forced herself to stand, only to collapse immediately, grabbing at her throat. It felt like she was breathing through a needle.

“Oh, I was wondering when that would kick in. It amuses me how the council couldn’t decide between strangling you slowly, or having you crushed to death.”

Her hands hovered above her collar, but she dare not touch it.

Kurshid’s hand grazed the back of his skull, pulling it forward to observe the blood smear. He took a breath, “Well, I suppose it’s time for me to go. Escape pod is down below, right?”

Zhi glared at him beneath sharp eyebrows. But she had no response–she couldn’t breathe. He walked past her with a smile, “You know, I’m almost glad you left me for dead. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this much satisfaction in my life.”

Her face was red, hands digging at her chest. If felt like her lungs were tearing themselves apart. The alarms echoed to her core. There must be something…

There. Her eyes fixed on the gun she so stupidly tossed aside in her rage. Without oxygen, however, her muscles didn’t want to move. No, come on. Shuddering along with the rest of the ship, she crawled towards it. It felt like she might as well have been crawling through the vacuum of space. It was so close, resting against a support beam, handle pointed towards her. If she were to die, he was going to die with her.

Chunks of haul were falling around her, the floor cracking open into a canyon. Crunch! She couldn’t scream this time, only choke. A small chunk of metal crushed her foot, snapping most, if not all, the bones within. The pain made it harder to breathe. No, no, focus! She was almost there. Only a yard away. Her fingers reached out with such determination it was surprising they did not stretch.

The floor beneath the gun popped upwards. Horror seized her chest.

It slid right into her hand.

The Lieutenant couldn’t ponder her luck, she didn’t have that luxury. Every bit of energy went into getting to her feet. Her knees went outward, and the only solid part of her foot was her heel. She slowly turned around, robotic eye searching for a target.

She didn’t have to look far.

He smiled before grabbing her wrist, trying to twist the gun from her grasp. She fought, waving her arm in any way she could manage. She was eventually stuck with her arm held straight upwards, his arm around her body–like they were about to dance.

“Lieutenant Stacy,” he whispered with a growing grin. “You know, before you left me to die… I’ve always wanted to take you dancing. Childish, I know, but us in the lower ranks always, well, had a bit of a crush.”

She just managed not to roll her eyes.

“Funny to see where we’ve ended up, huh? I used to want to impress you, but then, well, you killed me. It’s a shame, because–”

“K…K…” She was trembling. He leaned forward with a condescending smile.

“What was that, Lieutenant?”

“K…K…Kiss…M…Me…” She choked, smile mimicking his. His composure broke, face falling.

“Did you just…”

She nodded, keeping her smile. His eyes strayed to her lips, chest heaving like a giddy schoolboy, “I suppose I have the time…”

He leaned forward, covering her lips with his own, effectively cutting off any remaining air.

His hand relaxed over hers. He felt her smile.

She pulled the trigger, beam shooting upwards.

He pulled away, brows knit. “Why did you–”

Before he could finish his question, the roof finally collapsed and crushed them both.


The End!

You know, I always start out hoping it ends happily. And then…




Vanish At The Ocean pt. 2

Vanish in Water 2


Pip O’ Capricia

Lisbet Dorothea

Sibylla Mona Augusta Frige

Vanish at the ocean

Timer: 45 minutes

I seriously need to write faster these two-parters are ridiculous.

Let’s Go!

The Queen of the Reef looked to the stranger with a needling horror that she could not place nor control. The displeasure of being so helpless before such a small creature was the only thing to center her.  She replaced the shock on her gray features with a scowl.

“A collector, you say?” A stream of bubbles passed through her teeth in a restrained hiss, “Of what, might I ask?”

There was something in the stranger’s black eyes that flickered, an understanding that was above Sibylla’s head. He bowed once more, “Of many things, my Queen. Fossils, plant life, jewelry–”

Jewelry?” Her eyes narrowed, lips ready to spit her accusations–she paused. No, she was smarter than this. “Where do you get your wares from, exactly?”

“All sorts of places–cities, countries, planets. Your world is my fifteenth, in fact.” He bounced back and forth on his stiff legs, a youthful smile on his lips.

The comment did not surprise the Queen as much as it had the rest of the throne room. Her guards and servants whispered among themselves, few of them having even been to the surface and seen the stars. She didn’t care. World travel did not effect her or her kingdom in any meaningful way, but those pearls…

“What have you collected here so far?” She feigned amusement, falling back into her throne. “Are you stealing from my kingdom?”

The Stranger and the Queen locked eyes for the briefest of moments, but an energy cut through the water so powerful she swore she felt the current change. Her tentacles tightened around the throne’s legs.

“I never steal. I trade. Which is why I’ve come to you, your highness,” he reached into the thick strap around his waist, pulling out what appeared to a black pebble. The Collector held it outwards. “I take pride in finding the most interesting items. For example–” His thumb rubbed against its surface. Within seconds the room was filled with shimmering lights, causing all seafolk to press against the walls, gasping at the abruptness. But their shock was replaced by awe as they noticed a sphere–larger even than the Queen–floating above his head. Small explosions pricked at its ghastly green surface. “This is a map from the last planet I was on. It’s of their sun, and as you can see all the stars and galaxies around it. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

The ‘sun’ burned in Sibylla’s eyes, warping her gaze to primal distrust. It was wonderful– filled with magic the Queen had never encountered. She prided herself, however, on seeing through tricks and illusions. This was nothing more than an elaborate show he was performing.

“I find it to be distracting at best, and useless to me and my people. If that’s all you have–”

“Of course not, your majesty. How about this?” The sun vanished, and was replaced by a silver square frame. The Queen was sure to clearly display her boredom. He grinned like a jester, plucking a strip of seaweed from the floor. The seaweed fell through the frame harmlessly. Her eyes narrowed, displeased. Another piece of seaweed fell from the frame, though she did not see any go in. Then another, and another–they were piling up on the floor.

“It clones organic matter until you set it down. Imagine if there was a food storage, and you needed to feed your daughter–”

Daughter?” Her legs were slithering up nearby furniture. Her voice managed to stay flat, “What makes you think I have a daughter, traveler?”

The jester paused, smile still in place, “I’ve heard talk. There’s a princess here, isn’t there? Very beautiful from what I’ve been told.”

The Queens nails tapped at the arm of her throne, “Very, indeed.”There was a heavy pause. She smirked, “Would you like to meet her?”

Everyone in the room stilled. She could nearly hear the confusion mixing with the water. But what she wanted to see most was his face–It was dumbfounded. Her grin grew. He knew, he knew more than he was letting on. The Queen continued to stare him down, waiting for his move.

He recovered quickly. “Oh, of course. Where is she?”

You tell me. “Resting in her room. But I don’t think she’d want to come out now, the poor dear’s red hair is all knotted, and she really is such a vain thing.”

His eyes shifted back and forth, as if scanning an invisible script to see what his lines were. They stopped, however, on the solider by the Queen’s side. The solider was staring at the Queen with brows knit. The rest of the room had similar perplexed looks. Sibylla’s fangs clenched, her people’s confusion was so blatantly obvious. Morons. The traveler looked back to her with a grin. She wanted to grab that unsightly body with her tentacles and snap it in half.

“Well maybe I’ll come later. Actually, my Queen, I have many more… oddities on my ship,” his smile grew even wider, “If you would ever like to see for yourself.”

The stress on the you‘s of the sentence made it perfectly clear it was a private invitation. Her voice was flat,

“You think you’d have something of interest for me?”

“I think…” he said softly, “You’ll find at least one thing you can’t live without.” Come get her.

Sibylla’s thoughts drifted to the little princess, that youthful beauty and welcoming nature. Her eyes fell to the pearl necklace on the Stranger’s neck. Her step-daughter wasn’t dead, she was at this ship. But he was not simply going to hand her over. He wanted something from the Queen, something of value. A trade. And if he was a man to abduct creatures for pleasure, she did not see the merit of risking herself.

“When do you leave, Stranger?” Her stomach was sinking. The image of Lisbet in a cage came to mind, but the image quickly flickered to seeing herself trapped. After all her hard work, trapped in a cage.

“From this side of the planet? Tomorrow, sadly… So I’d strongly recommend you come before I leave with all my treasures.” He spoke slowly, nailing home the private conversation they were having.

Sibylla thought it over. So loved was that girl, so popular was she… She stared at the traveler, his smirk still wide.


“Yes, my Queen?”

“Tonight, you said?”

“Yes, your majesty.” His leaned forward, ready to reel in the bait. “Shall I make the arrangements for your visit?”

Silence, except for the rumbling contraption on his back.

“Make your arrangements.” The Queen sat tall, “But…”


“I suggest you make them before the light leaves the water.” She raised from her throne, tall, strong, “I don’t want to see you or your ship in my kingdom again.” She smirked at his shock, “And take your junk with you.”



The End!

I almost kept going. Almost. Being timed is terrible.




Vanish At The Ocean


Vanish in Water 2

Random Names:

Pip O’ Capricia

Lisbet Dorothea

Sibylla Mona Augusta Frige

Random Genre:

Vanish at the ocean

Random Title: Vanish At The Ocean

Timer: 45 minutes


She was a pretty little thing, with the flowing disposition of a seaweed strip. Her skin was as bright and brimming with life as the pearls decorating her wrists and neck. Jewels in which Sibylla herself had given her. It was more of a public act than of any genuine intent. Now, however, Sibylla despised them. The golden little girl soared through the waters, playing with her necklace with an unattractive habit.

It was not hard for Sibylla to cope with her disappearance.

Each strand of slimy tentacle-like hair floated lazily around the Queen of the Reef as her underlings filled her in on the news. Lisbet, her husband’s pride and joy, had vanished into the depths of the ocean. Those under Sibylla’s rule were distraught with grief unnatural to the cold queen. She, of course, feigned her expected part, but whenever alone in their Coral Palace her face would relax into indifference.

It was night, and the Queen was dressed for the evening–deep green robes of scales and seaweed swayed behind her, giving her still form some life. She could not find any rest in her chambers–the King was still mourning the abrupt loss of his daughter. Sibylla looked through the carved window and out onto her kingdom, bored. How long would this dreadfulness continue?

Something caught her eye.

Glimmering, pale, and floating peacefully through the dark waters. It glimmered like no fish ever could, nor any ocean-kin. Through the three lenses protecting the Queen’s opal eyes, she made the form out: A pearl bracelet.

Sibylla’s flaccid expression broke into genuine shock. Her finned hands clasped the edge of window, claws picking at the burnt orange coral. No, surely it couldn’t be.

Though a hefty specimen, the multiple tentacles beneath Sibylla propelled her form into the water easily. With the grace of a hard-earned Queen, she floated cautiously to the glimmering ring of pearls. It nestled into her scaled hand with the obedience of a summon. Her claws picked at it, eyes reflecting its luminescence. The thread holding it together was gold.

An image of the young girl’s hair flickered before her, accompanied by a bright laugh, Oh Sibylla, they’re lovely.

The Queen’s expression soured at the memory. Her sharp eyes looked upwards, then to her glorious new home behind her. A home secured after years of struggle, one that never quite felt as welcoming to her as it did to the golden-finned child. The pearls rolled between the thick finned fingers as it had through those soft delicate ones.

Sibylla’s gills flared outwards, the frown on her pale face deepening. It would be more peaceful without the singing little creature. The urge to investigate further was waning, and soon the Queen was propelling herself to the dim-lit castle before her.

A soft cry echoed through the waters. At once Sibylla knew it to be the King. Sobbing, babbling, whimpering. She bared her fangs in displeasure. What if he never moved on? Stuck in a place of grief like the coral rooted into the sands?

She hissed, causing a cloud of bubbles to engulf her face. With trained poise, the Queen twisted her tendrils and swam upwards–in the direction of the falling pearls.

Hovering in the black waters like a fool, her clouded eyes searched for a golden reward. If the brat would silence this husband of hers, it might have been worth the minimal effort.

A dark form floated in the distance.

It was not any kin of the ocean. More limbs than the child and her father, but not as many as the Queen, either. The silhouette was deformed, with a swollen head and large boil hanging to the side of it. Though she could not see details, she knew it to be disgusting.

The black beast noticed her as she had it. The Queen splayed her limbs out, baring her pointed teeth–daring the creature to challenge her.

Rather than returning the challenge, it unleashed a strange noise, a choked growl, before darting away into the night under the cover of a bubble cloud.

Sibylla retreated back into her chamber, gills flaring. For the first time in years, the Queen had felt fear. What was that monster? And had it been the one to drop the bracelet?

She didn’t notice her husband’s cries that night, only the soft clinking of the pearls beneath her nails.

The next morning was as active as when the princess’s disappearance had been announced. “Visitor” “Stranger” “Newcommer” were tossed around like pebbles. The King had yet to emerge to the public, too overwhelmed to keep composure in front of subjects. The Queen, however, was not as weak.

Draped in black gowns, she regally entered her throne room with forced familiarity. Her expression was cold at the news from the squid-child floating before her. “My Queen, a stranger has arrived, and has requested entrance.”

“What does he want?”

“I… no one knows.” The yellow, veiled eyes of the gray child looked at her with a strange fear the Queen had never seen before.  Fear of the unknown. Sibylla spoke slowly, asking a question never necessary before: “What type of creature is he?”

The slits in the center of the servant-child’s eyes narrowed, “I… Don’t know.”

Sharp fins hidden along the Queen’s arms stood straight, providing an added discomfort. Her pause was long.

“Bring him in.”


The Queen, seated on her throne, looked impressive, with a cold and absolute aura of control that submitted all those around her. Her tentacles were clutched around the large chair, however, in an attempt to steel herself against what she feared to approach.

When it arrived, her clasp on the carved fixtures caused them to crack. If a Mer was cut in two, then had  his fins replaced with fixtures similiar to its arms–that was the only way the Queen could explain it to herself. He was clothed in a thick, brown material that did not sway with the water. A contraption was attached to its face, covering it in a clear shell. A length of string attached the mask to a bulge on his back. It was not a part of his body, but a seemingly added fixture. It produced a soft whirring that sounded much like a dull growl.

“Your majesty,” the stranger greeted, before extending into a deep bow. Sibylla hoped she hid her discomfort well. He spoke quickly, “My name is Pip O’ Capricia, and I am not of your world.”

“I can see that,” she responded sharply, “What do you want, visitor?”

A smile brimmed through his mask, “You don’t seem to be very curious as to what I mean.”

“Nor do I care,” the blue-and-green tendrils on her head flared out, “What do you want?”

Surely you must be as intrigued by me as I am about your people.”

“State your business now, or–” Sibylla’s tongue was paralyzed. There, beneath the folds of the stranger’s bizarre attire, a string of pearls shimmered. Even the fabrics of her gown stayed in place.

“Well, your highness,” the man responded, black eyes fixated upon the stunned Queen, “I consider myself a collector.”


To be continued!





Foreigners With A Hat

Polaroid Painted

Randomly Generated Title: Foreigners With A Hat

Random Genre: Action and Romance

Random Generated Names: Delano Tierney Acardi, Sebastiano Sévère Nicastro, and Ellen Idony Chamberlain

Time: 45 Minutes! No longer! No, sir! That’s it!



They were an attractive pair. A darker-skinned man, tall and slender, was sipping from a wine glass with such elegance that it seemed practiced; His partner, a porcelain woman, kept adjusting her canary-yellow dress so that the folds were uniform. She seemed much too bashful to be wearing the ostentatious hat that sat low on her head. Delano Acardi’s icy eyes often glanced over his menu to make sure that it was, in fact, real, and not some wine-induced mirage. No, it was the hat that had been described to him. The owner of it was to die, and by this evening if possible.

“Have you decided what you wanted yet?” Chirped the waitress beside him. His eyes flickered to her, the rest of his body unmoving. It was frustrating when outsiders interrupted his focus. The blonde little thing took a step back with her hands up in a defensive posture, “I could come back…”

He took a deep breath, and upon the exhale a smile painted his handsome face, “No, I’ll take tonight’s special, please. And another drink as well.”

The girl nodded, fleeing his gaze as soon as she took the order.

“—and you?”

The man that was accompanying his target revived their conversation. His name was Sebastiano Nicastro, and he, too, was wanted by the government for a list of crimes—ranging from double-crossing to forgery and hacking government computers—long enough to reach Delano’s knee. Acardi could not see much of his face from this seat, only thick black hair and the back of an ashy suit. The woman—the priority—was Ellen Chamberlain. She smiled, the red of her lips matching the large shimmering flower resting above the rim of her hat. Her crime… it deserved no trial.

“Tired. I’m always tired. I feel as though I’ve aged twenty years.”

“And you still look so beautiful,” Nicastro took her hand, careful to avoid the candle in-between them. “A vision.”

“Oh Sebastiano, you have done too much for me.” She pulled the hat downwards, trying to hide that nervous smile, “But there’s a chance for escape, you know. A way to get out of all this… running.”

Acardi couldn’t help but lean in, fingers caressing the stem of his glass.

“Really?” The man scoffed, “And what could possibly absolve you of all crimes?”

Acardi could barely hear her whisper—“Russia.”

“Russia?” Nicastro reeled away.

Shhh,” she hissed, “Do you want the world to know?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he—much to Acardi’s disdain—quieted his tone,” What’s this about…you know.”

The woman looked into the man’s eyes, almost connecting with Acardi’s sitting just behind him. Delano quickly dropped his gaze, focusing on the little candle before him. His attention was drawn again, however, when he heard ruffling. She was digging through her purse. Acardi gripped onto the edge of the table, frosted eyes expecting a flash of silver. It appeared—but before he could defend himself he realized it was the silver of a pen. It was hard to contain his sigh of relief.

Her lithe hands pulled her napkin close, long fingers scribbling onto the cloth. Shit. Acardi rubbed his chin, pondering what it would take to see what was written.  He couldn’t pretend to go to the restroom—it was in the opposite direction—and “tripping” into the table could pose a danger.

“Here you go!”

Acardi nearly fell from his plush seat. The little waitress rested the plate before him, keeping a shaky smile on all the while.

“Would you like anything else?”

He could not stop the harsh “No,” that escaped his thin lips. She nearly sprinted across the restaurant.

After a steadying breath, he pondered simply killing her outside of the restaurant and taking the napkin then. What was Russia doing to help these convicts? After reading her message, Sebastiano pulled away.

Though he could not see the man’s face, Acardi imagined a look of shock.

You must be kidding.” He whispered.

“It’s the only way, my love. For us to survive…”

“It would be suicide.” Nicastro was about to stand when the woman grabbed onto his forearm.

“Please, Nicastro… Please do this for us. I’m tired of running. I just want to be with you. Alive with you, in love with you…”

“It would be hard to be alive with you when we would be walking into death.” Though his words were final, the man sat back down.

“You’re exaggerating—I think we could do it.”

“And how do you expect to kill one of the highest trained CIA agents in the U.S. government?”

Acardi stilled. An unfamiliar feeling was washing over him. Don’t be rash, Delano. There are at least six of you.

“It won’t be easy,” she admitted. “But I think if we lure him to our location…”

Every muscle clenched.

“…A restaurant, perhaps. A public place, where he thinks he could easily hide.”

“Oh?” The man leaned back, “Hide where?”

“Well, right behind you for instance.”

Acardi didn’t so much as breathe.

“But what would you do? How would you get him?” The man responded casually.

“Poison his food. Paralysis, I think.”

Acardi glanced down to his food and wine. His fingers roamed his chest, feeling the erratic beating of his heart. A clear look of betrayal flashed over his features. He stood, only to fall back down again. He tried to stand again and again, less successful with each attempt. His hand went to his lips, eyes wide.

“How do we poison him if we’re sitting down, dearest?”

“How about… we hire someone to play as me, you see…”


“She’ll have to have something distracting to hide her face. And of course there’s the low lighting to warp her features even more. And then…”

“And then…” A figure emerged from the corner of Acardi’s eye, “Take the position of a waitress. Someone the pretentious prick wouldn’t study very carefully.”

It was the blonde, a confident smirk replacing her timid smile. She sat in the seat across from him, the smirk unable to disappear. Her fingers tucked themselves under her blonde hair, pulling it all off in one swipe. Dark curls were released, bouncing onto her shoulders.

Acardi, unable to move, could only stare. The woman crossed her arms, obviously pleased.

“The great Delano Acardi. I used to be scared of you. Ha! But now…”

It took great effort, but he forced a mumble, “An…ow?”

“What now? You’ll find out soon enough. See, once you are a complete vegetable, we’ll send you right off to the Russian government. They wanted you alive.”


“You can’t stop us, Acardi. No one can. We’re going to be protected by the Russians.  Get new faces, names—everything. The U.S., the CIA, they’re dying. Like you.”

Acardi glared beneath his brows, eyes twitching. Sebastiano finally stood, turned and walked towards them with that same smirk. He placed a kiss on the top of her head, “Good work, dear.”

We’re going to be free. Start a new life. Hmm… Have a couple kids, maybe. Hey, we’ll name one after you.”

“Ou…ich.” Acardi spat weakly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?”

“You… bitch,” he repeated.

The couple before him froze. Acardi wiped his lips, gasping in fresh air with his thawed chest.

The woman’s eyes were wide enough to fall from their sockets. “But—How–?”

God, weren’t you trained not to monologue?”


Acardi reached for his chest as he had just a minute ago. He popped another button off of his shirt off his shirt, tossing it into his mouth. It dissolved on his tongue almost immediately. He watched their surprise with a grin, “What? You thought I was just feeling myself up earlier?”


“You should have used an actual poison, love. Such as this one.” With barely any effort, Delano took out a small gun from his coat pocket, shot it twice, then returned it to its holster. The woman collapsed immediately. The man took a few steps forward, hand raised in a weak fist. When he was just a foot away, he fell into Acardi’s arms. Quickly, so as not to draw much more attention, he carried the dead weight back to its seat. The false Ellen stared up at him with a frozen expression.

Acardi glanced her over, a growing smirk on his face. He reached back into his jacket, causing the poor girl to scoot back, eyes squeezed shut.

“This should cover it.”

Her eyes reopened, watching him toss a few dollars onto the table.

“By the way,” he tucked his wallet away with a smile, “I love your hat.”


Randomized Writing Assignment


The stresses of life are piling up, and it seems to have stunted my writing time. However, I attended a play-writing workshop in which we were to write five lists in different categories, write two memories of our life, put them all together, and create a writing scene.

There may be moments you’ll be thinking: …why? I assure you, I had to work with what I had. And considering I had 5 minutes, I think it turned out alright.

It was randomized, it was timed, so it is here.


Bench. Sturdy, wooden, and spotted in white. Warped boards due to constant rain, twisting more every day. Still, it stays strong. 

It is raining now.

A hunched figure emerges from offstage, wearing a tan trench-coat that falls to their ankles. They have no umbrella, only a rain hat, and an odd assortment of scarves that covers their face. It is hard to make out the shape or gender of the body, as they hide behind layers upon layers of clothing. Sits on bench, seemingly unperturbed by the weather.

Young man bursts from opposing side. His suit, once fine, is damp. His hair is frayed, and he’s limping–due to the gash in his leg. He collapses onto the bench.

The old person regards him passively.

OLD: How are boys and girls different?

YOUNG: (Clutching leg, face of disbelief) What?

OLD: How are boys and girls different?

YOUNG: Ack! (Rocks forward, tightens grip on leg) I have just been in a car accident, my rental is french-kissing a tree, my phone is ruined, my leg is probably broken and–and–(Checks wrist) and I’m half an hour late for an interview I’ve been waiting for for months and you ask that? (Winces) Oh god… It’s like–everything in my life is going to shit. Everything. (Cackling) 10% chance of rain! Swell, just swell.

OLD: Why are boys and girls different?

YOUNG: This is what I get, you know? I’ve been a piece of shit most of my life and just when I try to get out (claps hands) Bam! Here I am! In the rain! Probably bleeding out, and sitting beside some nut-job.

OLD: Why are–

YOUNG: You know, I think if I just didn’t fuck up my water-polo career, I’d be famous by now. I’d be living the fucking dream.

OLD: Why–

YOUNG: Nah, had to skip down with my junkie cousin to experiment with shit he bought from Egypt. (Takes a breath) I’m seein’ spots. (Holds hand out in front of OLD’s face) Does this look a little white to you?

OLD: Why are boys–

YOUNG: I feel like no one listens to me sometimes. And it’s like–how could someone as talented as me get screwed like this, eh?

OLD: (Contemplates. Stands in front of YOUNG, back to audience. Opens coat wide.)

YOUNG: (Shrieks) WHAT THE–

OLD: (Bends forward slightly. Closes coat. Exits)

YOUNG: (Holding an umbrella) What… the fuck… was that? Am I…dead? (Beat. Opens umbrella)

Rain stops.


.Who was the old person?

What did they reveal?

Why are boys and girls different?

Did the guy bleed out and die?

The world may never know!

Skeletons Following Me pt. 2

20160309_103252_HDR horror-edit

Randomly Generated Names: Auberon Justin BlackwoodMouses Al NorthAlexina Sommer Blackwood

Randomly Generated Genre:


Randomly Generated Title: Skeletons Following Me

Time: 35 Minutes (For real though)


 “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–“


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–“


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.


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.”


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!

Skeletons Following Me

20160309_103252_HDR horror-edit

Randomly Generated Names: Auberon Justin BlackwoodMouses Al NorthAlexina Sommer Blackwood

Randomly Generated Genre:


Randomly Generated Title: Skeletons Following Me

Time: 35 Minutes


 “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.


All three jumped, heads snapping towards the front door.


They didn’t move.


“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’–“


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–“


“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.



“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–


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:


Time: 35 Mins (…ish)


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…”


“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–”


“It’ll freeze!”


“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.


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.


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


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–”


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.”





Wow, that took forever to finish.

Onto the next one!