Wednesday prompt: Sent Home Early From War.

Wednesday Prompt Smash: Sent Home Early.

Authors Note: Here we go again, another late one for the Wednesday Prompt Smash. Sasha's blog can be found over on The Short Story Press. Where you will find her entries for the Smash.

Prompt: Sent home early from war.
Word Limit: 700

I'm awake, I'm laying down, my eyes are heavy. No I’m not laying down, I’m floating in something. Floating in something very viscous. I try to open my eyes, but it's no use. I feels like something is holding them closed. I try to fight the wave of sleepiness that suddenly envelops me. It is no use however and I drop back into a deep slumber.

I am awake again, however my mind is clearer this time. Whatever I am floating in is warm, almost exactly body temperature. I try to open my eyes, but they are still so heavy, feels like they are being held down by lead weights. I feel the tendrils of sleep edging closer, I have to fight them, I have to find out where I am.

I'm awake again, damnit I couldn't hold out and lost conciousness again. I'm feeling much more alert this time however. I try to take a mental inventory of my body parts, I can feel my legs and arms, however I can't feel my feet or hands, they are more an extension of my arms and legs. I concentrate as hard as I can on where my hand should be. Was that? Yes it was, I’m almost certain I just moved my fingers. Alarms, across the great haze I can hear alarms going off.

It's been much longer this time, I can tell that I have not regained conciousness in a very long time. Much longer than the previous times I'd been unconscious, I couldn't quantify it, but I knew I had been 'asleep' longer this time. Something had happened last time that made it harder to wake up this time. My fingers, I have managed to move them and then I was gone instantly. I'm slipping again, next time will be better.

I slowly feel myself regain conciousness, I feel more clear headed than ever before. The weight on my eyes seems diminished. It's now or never, the muscles around my eyelids start to flutter, there is nothing. Until there is, my eyes crack open. There is instant pain as liquid makes contact with them. I squint and I can just make out stars before losing conciousness again.

Once again I am awake, it is different this time though. I don’t feel as hazy, I can connect thoughts together. I can feel my fingers and my extremities merely feel like they are made of stone and not lead.

I open my eyes, I am no longer floating suspended, I am on a bed. Metals walls surround me, before I have the opportunity to survey my surrounds a door opens and a man stands silhouetted in the doorway.

I open my mouth but nothing comes out, I swallow heavily down my dry throat. “Who are you?” I manage to get out.

“Captain Marshall of the Interstellar Federation vessel Scarborough”

“Ok, and who am I?”

“You are no-one, formerly you were Lieutenant Robson.”

“Formerly?” I ask. He doesn't answer

After a few minutes I can stand the silence no longer. “Where are we?” I ask.

“In orbit around the penal colony of Sigma Eight. We have just woken you from hypersleep”

And with that it all came back to me, the front lines. A dead officer, blood on my hands. A court martial, no appeal, 30 years hard labour. They had sent me home.



Day 172, Rimworld A-337, Local name: Glapus. Six months previous.

“Sir?” I hear myself yell over the sounds of mortars going off around us. “That's crazy sir, we can't go on the offensive. We are out numbered and out gunned. That will kill us all.”

“You heard my order Lieutenant!” He screams in my face.

“Sir, what does the Administratum have to say about this order?”

“All comms are down Lieutenant, I haven't had orders from the Administratum for over a week.”

He is mad, I can see it in his eyes. He has no orders, and no idea what to do. He will lead us in circles until ever last one of us is dead. I find my sidearm in my hand. Aimed at the back of his neck. A single shot, blood splatters across the ground. He is dead before he hits the ground.

I leave the Cos tent, “What are our orders sir?” one of the junior lieutenants asks me.

“Retreat, We are to make our way to the LZ and get an extraction.”

They know, every man in the platoon knows what happened. They know it wasn't shrapnel like I said. None of them question my orders. But the Administratum would find out.

Word Count: 770 words.

Wednesday Prompt Smash: Yōkai will be Yōkai.

Authors Note: Here is the second installment of the Wednesday Prompt Smash. Sasha's blog can be found over on The Short Story Press. Where you will find her entries for the Smash.

Yōkai is basically the Japanese word for anything supernatural. Ghosts, monsters, shape shifting foxes, it's all yōkai.

Prompt: Yōkai will be Yōkai.
Word Limit: 600

I had been waiting in the capital for an audience for almost two weeks now. I have spoken with countless government officials, all of which seemed futile. Until one morning a knock on the door frame, I slid the paper door and waiting outside was an elderly man. “Come, the Emperor will see you today.”

Passing through the Suzaku gate and the subsequent four kilometer walk to the palace through the grounds was nerve wracking. I had spent so long preparing for this, the most important discussion I would ever have.

The tatami under my knees seemed harder than normal as I sat bowed in front of the mighty Emperor. I waited and waited for the signal which only came when I felt I could wait no longer. I raised up into a sitting position and pleaded my case to the Emperor.

“Your Majesty, it is with great regret that I inform you that yōkai have taken over large parts of the country and run amok amongst the people.” I started with, trying to keep the thoughts in my head coherent.

“Most noticeably the roads north into the Dewa province are cut, it is said that many kinds of different yōkai patrol the roads stopping human travelers, merchants and envoys. Those who have managed to escape the yōkai and make it back have claimed that there are two mighty oni controlling the area. One is red, the other blue, both with clubs the size of trees made of solid iron.”

“In Awa rice pickers have been found dead almost daily, drained of their very life essence. I fear the rice paddies are plagued with onibi, demon fire that drain life force.” I take a quick moment to glance at the Emperor, he is sitting in the most proper fashion, fiddling with a katana that lies at his feet.

“I have had word from trustworthy individuals in the cities. An entire subculture has erupted made up of shape-shifting kitsune and tanuki. We have no way of determining ho is human and who is one of these yōkai, unless they make a mistake and reveal themselves. The local government doesn't seem to be any help either, I believe some members of government are themselves yōkai.”

“Most worrying however is the report of an onryō a mere 20 Li from where we sit now. No-one knows who this yōkai may have been in it's past life, but many people suffer and die facing its wrath. This is a major plight for the population. Something needs to be done your Majesty.”

I finish talking only to realise I am very out of breath. The very subject has drained me of my vitality. One of the Emperor's aides quietly steps up beside him and whispers in his ear. The Emperor stops for a moment before slowly nodding.

When he opens his mouth the voice is quiet “Thank you for coming and seeing me with your findings today. However I will not be doing anything, it is up to every man himself to deal with it. After all Yōkai will be Yōkai, wont they?”

I tried one final time, to beg his help. Pleasing in my voice I said “Please your Majesty, A kotengu nest was found in Tōtōmi. The amount of children that have been kidnapped eclipses that of those who die of sickness. The wails of the kidnapped children can be heard everywhere.

The Emperor shook his head ever so slightly.

And with that, my audience was over. Years of research, months of travel, wasted. I know I am right, the country needs saving, but what can I do? The Emperor has spoken.

Word Count: 609 words.

1950s Dinner Party

Authors Note: This will be the first of many in the Wednesday Prompt Smash, an idea that I had with my friend and co-worker Sasha over at The Short Story Press. On Friday at work we give each other a topic or prompt, which we have to get written up by Wednesday. Now I am not posting this until Thursday night, (which is something you should get used to) I did however finish it before midnight Wednesday in American Samoa

Prompt: 1950s Dinner Party
Word Limit: 500

Anthony looked at the clock for the fourth time in twenty minutes, 6:20 August 3rd, the guys would be arriving soon.

“They will be here any minute! Why aren't you doing anything? Where is that cousin of yours?” Isabella said frantically.

“Calm down Sugar.” Anthony loved his wife dearly but it was a times like this she really got on his nerves, didn't she realise how important tonight was going to be. Just a few more days in this hot hell and they could move back east.

“Calm, how can I be calm? They will be here any minute!” Anthony had stopped paying attention though, he was too busy caught up in his thoughts.

DING DONG! The doorbell rang and Isabella gasped “They're here”

Isabella scampers to the door quickly, taking a moment before opening the door to take a deep breath and straighten out her red and white gingham apron. Anthony sidles up beside her as it opens.

“Richard! Bianca! We are so glad you could come. We are so sorry for the short notice party.” Isabella said. Anthony reaches out and gives Richard a firm handshake.

The group reach the living room as the doorbell rings again, “I'll get it!” shouts Isabella and runs off to the door. Anthony is busy making small talk when he hears Isabella “Harold, Belinda, how are you? And Paul right behind you, where is Aida?”

Anthony doesn't hear Paul's response. It doesn't matter to him anyway, all that matters is what is to come. As everyone filters into the room Isabella takes orders for drinks and scurries into the kitchen to make them.

Knowing full well that none of the others smoke cigars, he offers them one each and ushers them out onto the balcony to smoke them.

“What's this all about Tony? Calling us to your apartment? We haven't heard from you in months.” Paul says, the other two look guilty as if they wanted to ask but only Paul would.

“Paulie, I got us a gig, real easy, made in the shade.”

“Last job you had for us, we ended up hauling ass from the heat, without a single cent to show for it.” Richard finally got in on the action.

“Now look here, I been casing the joint all week, it's as easy as pie. Paulie, you're driver. Richie and Big H, you'll have the tommies. Me and Jimmy the Snake will be cracking the safe. We will be in and out in 20 minute flat, heat wont even have time to get there.”

The boys nod slowly to each other, they never could say no to Tony. “Let's get back to the party.”

He turns around and smiles as the door slides open and Isabella brings out a tray of drinks. “Thanks Doll, we are just finishing up our cigars and will be right in.”

BREAKING NEWS:
August 10.
Robbery Foiled

Late yesterday afternoon a bank robbery was foiled by Las Vegas's finest. Leaving several dead on the scene including Los Angeles Richie and Jimmy the Snake. Two men were seen reprimanded into custody, police say Little Paulie and Big H have been arrested. There is still one man on the loose, identity unknown.

Word count: 536