Wednesday Prompt: Yargh! Pirate Zombies

Authors note: a bit late again, but at least I got this one written before getting the next prompt. I am a few words over again for this story. I could have edited it down a few words to get within count, but I am doing this for fun. and editing is no fun. As always check out The Short Story Press for Sasha's prompt. We give them to each other every Friday and post on Wednesdays. At least Sasha posts Wednesdays, I post when I post.

Word Prompt: Yargh! Pirate Zombies.

Word Limit: 600

“Row harder men, we need to get over these waves.” The first mate yells at us. We are all so tired but we keep rowing hard towards the shore of the small uninhabited island we happened across. Our muscles bulging as we pull our oars, taking us every further away from the blazing ship we have abandoned.

The longboats nose drags in the sand, I jump out and help pull her up further on shore. In the distance the burning mast finally snaps and smashes through the weakened decking. The fire rising into the sky creates what looks like a second sunset.

How did we get here I hear you ask? You will never believe me, but for the thousandth time I will tell the story anyway.

It was a normal breezy summers day, I was a manning the crows nest when I saw it on the horizon. A small ship, making great speed in our direction. I called out to let the captain know and he climbed up into the nest with me to see if he could see anything else.

It wasn't long before we saw the flag through our spyglass. The flag was black with white on it. We couldn't make out the imagery on the flag, but the colours could only mean one thing. Pirates.

The ship was making good ground against us, but there was still a lot of time to prepare. To their credit the men did prepare for the pirates as well as could be expected on a merchant vessel with no cannons on her. The men with personal flintlocks made sure their pistols were ready, and there was enough swords aboard the vessel for every man to have a cutlass in hand when they arrived.

When they did arrive it was quiet, with nary a shot fired towards us. The sun had set, but the moon was full and allowed us enough light to fight by. The schooner maneuvered well into position beside us. Then they came.

The first one swung across trailing rope behind him, someone fired their flintlock to no avail. There was a man on board, he dropped what he was holding and drew his cutlass. The hooks he had been holding onto slid across the deck and dug themselves into the planks. The ropes attached to them pulled taut and across shimmied the pirates. 

An ungodly roar sounded from behind me as the captain opened fire with his blunderbuss, it took a man in the chest just as he climbed aboard and he fell overboard. The crew clashed fiercely with the pirates.

One came up upon me, he was clearly dazed in the confusion of battle and I neatly stepped forward and speared him in the gut with my cutlass. It sunk through to the hilt. I was now right beside the man, I could smell his breath, it was horrifying, the smell of death and decay. 

He batted me aside and I fell to the ground. I watched as he pulled the sword from his gut, it made a squelching popping noise as it came free. He frowned at it, then tossed it aside. I couldn't tear my gaze from him, I watched as he proceeded to take a bite out of the captain.

I will admit, I don't know much about what happened next. I am ashamed to admit it, but I ran and hid until they were gone. There was a lot of shouting, it was sunrise by the time they left. I saw the flag whipping around as they cast off with most of our cargo and half the crew as food. The white devil piecing a red heart, the jolly roger of Blackbeard and his zombie crew.

Three days later we cast the ship free of anchor, doused in pitch and set alight. The wounded crew had all since passed away and begun to turn into zombies themselves. We tried to kill them all one at a time, but another crew member was bitten in the process. We just threw all the bodies in the hold, lit the ship on fire, and rowed to a nearby island.

Word count: 694 words.

Wednesday Prompt: Blue door, Red door.

Authors Note: As always, I am late as heck with this. I wrote it on my lunch break at work and never got around to transcribing it to post. As always check out The Short Story Press for Sasha's prompt. We give them to each other every friday and post on Wednesdays. At least Sasha posts Wednesdays, I post when I post.

This week Sasha gave me a much longer in depth prompt as apparently that is what I do to her a lot. The full prompt is "You are in a room, it is dark with only one light in the centre. To the left is a blue door, to the right a red door. What happens next?" I've shortened it in the title for ease of reading.

One final note, we try to keep our stories within 10% of the word limit, this one blew out to almost double that. I really like the story the way it is, and I didn't want to have to go back and edit something I barely remember writing. So I have left it as it is. Sue me.

Word Prompt: Blue door, Red door.

Word Limit: 700

I look behind me but the door I entered through has vanished. There is only the blue door, the red door and the dim bulb hanging from the ceiling swaying silently even though there is no breeze, making my shadow dance behind me.

I put my hand on the red door knob, it is cool to the touch and a shiver runs down my spine. I slowly open the door, there is a white room, it Is large I cannot see the walls or floor, it is all just a blinding white. A little way ahead of me is a chair. There is someone sitting in it, the chair is facing away from me. “Hello?” I say “Can you help me? I don't now where I am.”

I hear a loud HONK! As the chair slowly spins around. First I see the fluffy red hair. The shiver down my back intensifies, it is as if a bucket of ice water has been thrown on my back.

HONK HONK goes the clown, I can see him fully now, his baggy yellow clothes, his comically over sized red shoes, his face painted white with a laughing smile painted on.  His real mouth cracks open into a grin, upon close inspection it is clear that his teeth are razor sharp and filed into points.

He is starting to stand up now, “It's alright, I think I picked the wrong door.” I hastily say as I close the red door. My last glimpse of the clown showed me a look of malice and rage glistening in his eyes. I don’t know where I am, but I am certainly not dealing with that guy.

“Blue door, definitely blue door.” I mumble to no-one in particular as I move across the room to the other door. Taking a deep breath I grasp the handle, I can't help noticing it is cold as well. I push the door open, on the other side is a hallway. I can only see about ten meters ahead of me before the corridor turns ninety degrees left. With a look over my shoulder at the red door I push through into the corridor. When the door closes behind me it promptly vanishes. I cant find a handle, or a latch, or anything to suggest that up until a moment ago this was a door. I decide to continue on around the left hand turn, another ten meters a right hand turn. A further ten meters ahead is a plain looking wooden door.

I open it and gulp at what I see. A small room with a dangling bulb swinging back and forth, lighting up the blue and red doors.

How is this possible, the corridor didn't loop around. It must be a different room, I hope it is a different room. I check the blue door, it opens with a creak, hallway, looks the same as the last one. I gulp together all my strength and put my hand on the red door, I am shaking uncontrollably now. No matter how much I tell myself it can't be the same door, but deep down, in a part of the soul long since forgotten about, I know that it is.

But I need to be sure, logic tells me this is a different door, I pray that it is. I slowly open the door, and it is different. Different, but not better. Oh god it isn't better.

The noose is tight around his neck as he slowly swings back and forth. His clown make-up smudged where the ropes have rubbed, his red over sized shoes hanging floppily below him. I take it all in, this clown dangling from the ceiling by the neck, his baggy clothes hiding the majority of his form. Then I notice it, his eyes. They are staring at me. He isn't dead, he can't move, and is stuck there. But he is not dead.

Movement in the distance catches my eye. Dear lord it is another one, he looks like he is about two hundred meters away, but he is walking right towards me and the hanging clown. As my eyes focus on the distant whiteness I see another, and then another. There are at least seven that I can see. I close the door and decide to keep walking the blue door.

It has been twenty times now that I have ignored the red door and followed the corridors behind the blue door, every time they are different, they turn in different directions. Every time though they come back to this room. I have checked the red door a few more times, but I cannot bring myself to recount what I saw. Honestly I try not to think about it myself.

I'm starting to get really thirsty, I am not sure I can continue much longer. When I enter the next room, under the swinging bulb something has changed. There is a bottle of water sitting on the floor directly in the middle of the room.

I will never escape this place. The room provides everything I need, food when hungry, water when thirsty, a bed when tired. 

I will die here.

Word count: 865 words.

Wednesday Prompt: Interstellar Dance Party

Wednesday Prompt: Interstellar Dance Party.

Authors Note: Here we are once again, me posting late. In honesty I wrote this only 1 day late.... I just never got around to posting it. As always check out The Short Story Press for Sasha's prompt. We give them to each other every friday and post on Wednesdays. At least Sasha posts Wednesdays, I post when I post.

Word Prompt: Interstellar Dance Party

Word Limit: 600

It started in a remote part of the galaxy some 50,000 years ago. Now the anomaly has spread to cover a space over one hundred thousand light years wide, containing many hundreds of inhabited worlds. The galactic council has been keeping an eye on the anomaly but it shows no signs of stopping.

The science academy deemed it worthy of interested 10,000 years ago, but so far they have uncovered no clues as to what is causing the disturbance.

Soon the anomaly will spread to the galactic centre, if the super massive black hole is effected the way other high gravity bodies are, there will be untold damage to the entire fabric of the galaxy. The arms will we thrown off place, it would mean the end of all faster than light travel in the entire galaxy.

There is no guarantee that it will stop there, what if it doesn’t, we have no way of informing the inhabitants of M31 of the impending calamity.

After ten thousand years of study, today is the day that scientists of the galaxy will begin to work out the greatest unsolved mystery of the universe.

It was only recently that the Vox joined the science collective with their FTL capable vessels, capable of surviving the gravitational flux created by the aftermath of the anomaly. With their joining the science collective were finally able to get to the outer edge of the wave and begin monitoring the anomaly from when it first starts.

The ship is in orbit around a red dwarf star when it begins. The star begins to pulsate furiously emitting dangerous amounts of radiation that is absorbed harmlessly by the shielding.

“Sir, the star is being effected by the anomaly, all sensors are functional and recording data.”

The commander of the ship nods his head thoughtfully, there are hundreds of ships around the galaxy taking readings at different stages of the anomaly’s life.

Six hundred years later, at the science directorate, generations of work is coming to fruition. Members of almost all space faring species are present, pouring over the strange movements and gyrations made by every star effected in the galaxy.

The blind molemen of Proxima have changed the oscillations into a background noise that can be heard over the conversations in the room. The molemen are busy slowing down and speeding up the sounds created by the star movement when a small bipedal creature jumps up and yells out “STOP!”

Hundreds of eyes turn to the pink creature, “I think I heard something, a word.” All present in the room mumble about not hearing anything, however the molemen go back over the settings until the creature beams “That’s it.”

“That’s words from a proto-human language called English.”

“It says ‘’”

To understand the importance of this linguists are called in from all edges of the cosmos.

True to form the Zeta Reticulans run analysis. The small gray men stand around in a circle. “Finally we have found the origin of the anomaly”

“Yes, it is centred around the human home world Earth, and it spreads more than 50,000 light years in every direction expanding at the speed of light.”

“But what is it?”

The linguists chime in “It’s a song, a kind of human social activity.”

“why is it effecting the stars.”

“It’s like the stars heard the song and are singing and dancing along.”

“What like some kind of interstellar dance party?” says the tiny pink human.

“Exactly.”

Word Count: 579

Wednesday Prompt: Bunnies are evil!

Authors Note: Second story, Sasha's blog as always can be found over at The Short Story Press.

Word Prompt: Bunnies are evil!

Word Limit: 300

“General Bun Bun, We are honoured to have you at our meeting” A small rabbit squeaked as the gargantuan rabbit known as Bun Bun hopped through the warren into the war burrow.

“I was just stopping through for a sit-rep on the way to the Maternity dens.”

“The Maternity dens sir?”

“Yes, future generations of soldiers are very important.” He says as he gazes at the monitors on the burrow wall. “How goes the works on the eastern front?”

“Very well sir, the humans have no idea of our progress. Our tunneling efforts have proven fruitful as we hit a pocket of thinner soil.” The small rabbit points out a few points on the burrow monitors.

“We have been planting C4 under the foundations of all the buildings in the city. We are at approximately 40% completion. We are ahead of schedule. Warrens all over the world are reporting between 30 and 43% completion of phase one.”

“The humans will never see it coming, we will wipe out their infrastructure. And in time we will wipe the whole species from the face of the planet and take our rightful place as rulers of the planet.” General Bun Bun twitters in excitement.

An hour later after a visit to the Maternity dens General Bun Bun meets up with a brown rabbit wearing a blue jacket and shoes in human style.

“Ah, Senior adviser Peter. How is everything going?” The general inquires as he looks at Peter’s attire, he never ceases to be amazed by this strange rabbit.

“Excellent General. I have just returned from the big city.” He seems eager to say what he has to say “After speaking with another fellow called Peter, I have secured a very important alliance with a subspecies of human who also wish to see normal humans gone.”

The general is aghast, “Who are these people Peter?”

Peter Rabbit smiles, “Midgets.”

Word Count: 316

Wednesday Prompt: There is nothing to fear, except the big bad wolf.

Authors Note: So I have missed a few weeks. But I do have the stories written. Sorry about that everyone. I had to go to a funeral which kinda got me out of the writing.

So i'm posting a few stories right now to get back up to date. As always Sasha's blog can be found over at The Short Story Press.

Word Prompt: There is nothing to fear, except the big bad wolf.
Word Limit: 600

A small face pops around the side of the door “Dad?”

Dad opens one eye to look at the boy, “Aren’t you supposed to be I bed?”

The boy pushes around imaginary dirt with the toe of his foot.

“Have you had your bath?”, “Yes dad.”

“Are you in your pajamas?”, “Yes dad.”

“Have you brushed your teeth?”, “Yes dad.”

“Have I read you your bedtime story?”, “Yes dad.”

“Then why are you standing in my doorway instead of being in bed?”, “I’m scared to go to sleep.”

Dad takes a deep breath and sighs, he throws back the covers and slides his legs out of bed. He shakes his head as he stands. “What are you scared of.” He asks as he puts his hand around his sons shoulder and leads him down the hallway.

The young child shudders slightly. “The other kids at school were telling stories.” The boy says as they walk into his room. Dad pulls back the covers and gestures for his son to get in.

“What kind of stories?” he asks as he tucks his son into bed for the second time that night.

His son pulls the cover up right to his chin, leaving only a very small amount of his tiny face showing. “One was about a little girl in the woods who went missing.” Dad sits quietly as he quite often does,  and listens as his son tries to retell the story.

“She was being nice, and taking food to her grandmother. But she got attacked and all the food got stolen, and she got eaten, and then her grandmother got eaten as well. And she was wearing a red hood.”

“Who was telling these stories son? Was it those three little ruffians from up on the hill?”

His son simply nods, “Ok, I’ll go up the hill tomorrow and I will have a few words with their fathers about telling stories.

The boy rolls over and nods his head. “What other stories did they tell?”

His son thinks for a while before starting again “They told us that the howling you hear at night time is a terrible monster who kidnaps children in their sleep.”

Dad nods, “Anything else?”

“Yeah dad, they said that the monster lives nearby. They said that they overheard their parents talking to each other late at night, that their parents seem scared as well. Because the monster is real, and all the stories are true.”

Dad smiles gently as he rubs his son behind the ears. “You have absolutely nothing to fear my son.”

“How do you know dad? What about the stories?”

“I know because you are my little mischievous wolf, and one day you will grow up nice and strong. And like me, you will be a big bad wolf.” Dad smiles his large wolfish grin “You won’t have to worry about those stories, because those stories will be about you.”

The big bad wolf pats his son on the head, “Now go to sleep son, nothing to worry about.”

As the Big Bad Wolf is walking out the room he spares a quick glance under his son’s bed, he thinks he notices movement. He looks away quickly and heads to his own bed. “Nothing to worry about.” He says to himself as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

Word Count: 559

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