Friday, August 28, 2009

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Nineteen

He unburdened himself completely, telling her all his secrets and dreams, there was no second date after that.

5 Second FIction Three Hundred and Eighteen

Psychotic Kid found himself trapped in a building full of his deadliest enemies- it was a Shriners' Convention.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Seventeen

Despite everything Lorelei hoped she'd see her father again someday, because now she'd be ready for him.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Sixteen

Every year one DragonCon attendee has a night of of pleasure with the cosplayer of their choice before they are sacrificed.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Fifteen

“This is all just a bad dream.” he said over and over, but he really was at school in his underwear.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Fourteen

“The trick to skinning someone,” Reddeath explained, “is to start at the feet, that way you can enjoy their expressions longer.”

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Thirteen

Amazing Ed, this utility belt of yours...” Captain Hero quaked with anger, “is full of cigarettes and condoms- some used.”

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Twelve

Agent Krump knew that no craft store would be safe until the Macramaniac was stopped.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Price Breaks and Heartaches: part fourteen

The story you are looking for has been relocated and retooled.


If you can't find one of your favorite chapters don't worry, it'll be back!

"Rock-a-Bye Bully" by J Dayne Tyler aka DarcKnyt

On of my online writer pals posted this little tale recently and I thought it was pretty much terrific so I am sharing it with you folks.

"Rock-a-Bye Bully" by J Dayne Tyler aka DarcKnyt

I stood in the fresh country air, feet on the lower runner of a split rail fence, elbows on the upper. The strong sun beat down from behind the hazy clouds in the cadet blue sky and beaded sweat from under my long, silky bangs. The tall grass tickled in the muggy breeze and bugs buzzed and whined somewhere in it.

In the distance the trees seemed dense. Jungle dense. To a west coast kid, this place was like Africa or South America. It felt like being in the Amazon basin, and I expected night time to be filled with alien sounds of nocturnal animals crying their bloodthirsty wails into the stillness at the moon.

But it’s only Kentucky...

5 Second FIction Three Hundred and Eleven

Mario Krump couldn't understand how he had gotten jock itch when he never exercised.

Video Blog Three: 5 Minute Fiction

In honor of my 600th post I have improvised a story from an outline...

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Ten

The cheerleaders of the wasteland soon learned that the best defense was often an UZI and a well executed basket toss.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Nine

Lorelei had to admit that her lover's precognitive abilities made him amazing at foreplay.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Eight

Carl had met many women via the Internet but she was the first one to try and kill him with real determination and enthusiasm.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Seven

By the time he noticed her she was already gone.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Six

Doc Mullins was a steely eyed gunfighter with an unfortunate fear of horses, so he bicycled across the west dispensing justice.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Five

The three women pushed him onto his back and tore at his clothes, it would have been damn sexy if they hadn't been hungry zombies.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Four

They told him all he needed to get published was a memorable title, but no one published “The Lungbutter Serenade”

In The Shadow Of His Nemesis chapter twenty six

BY AL BRUNO III




Friday November 15th 1996




Sig was back an hour or so after sunset, it was the last of the new moon and his only companions for the last leg of his journey had been the stars. His back was aching, his old wounds were playing up but pain, like the stars and the moon had been a constant in his life. Sig’s knapsack full of things from the town- a sword and sorcery novel for Warren, periodicals and ammunition for Zeth, doll clothes for Hao and of course Angie’s medicines. He had to pay the pharmacist hundreds of dollars a month for piddling amounts of efavirenz, zidovudine and emtricitabine. The money didn’t matter to him, the worry was that he couldn’t even be sure if it was doing any good. It was all just guesses and prayers.

But what else could he do? Angie couldn’t risk a doctor, not when every hospital in the country had computer systems and equipment tainted by the Monarchs. Sometimes it filled with Sig with a hopless rage- he loved Angie and he had sworn to protect her with his last breath.

But how could he protect her from a virus?

Sometimes Sig wondered if he had this virus… this HIV himself. After all he and Angie had been sharing a bed for almost three years now, they rarely made love; it was more a matter of comfort. The feel of skin on skin- his rough and hers tender, it made for the most peaceful sleep he had ever known.

And those moments when a deeper need brought them together? Sometimes he wept from the joy of it, she stirred in him a gentleness he had never known.

At those times he never took a single precaution, telling Angie that his blood was different enough from hers to keep him safe.

It was a lie, the only one he’d told her.

As he drew closer to Laurel House the plant life grew more lush and healthy, the sounds of night creatures pricked at his hears- raccoons and foxes, mice and owls, squirrels and winter birds. Sig thought of going hunting but he was too slow now and the Metastasis- the metastasis hurt so much. A parting gift from Victor he supposed.

“I absolve you Sig …I return the Metastasis in all its primitive grandeur to you. It will prolong your squalid little existence. Long enough for you to see me ascendant, so that you might understand what it was that you betrayed. What it is that you lost …consider yourself taken off the board so to speak, that is the boon and that is the price…”

Galen was waiting for him at the edge of the woods, in slacks and a t-shirt. He hailed Sig in the manner of the High Born, Sig responded as was appropriate to his station; posture rigid, throat bared. These were the rituals of a nearly dead culture, and Sig had lived as a man for so long that they almost seemed almost quaint.

“Any news?” Galen asked.

Sig cocked his head, “News? You mean of you? Nothing.”

“Is there anything suspicious? Anything at all?”

“In Windham? No.” Sig thought to himself that if the High Born had wanted reconnaissance he should have asked for it, “If there were agents of the Monarchs there I would know.”

“No necessarily.” Galen cautioned. Their breaths came in white puffs. The air tasted eager for snow but the sky was empty, “The newer models are very subtle.”

Sig shrugged, he knew the High Born’s kind of desperation when he saw it, “Then who knows? We’re safe enough here.”

“You believe that?” Galen tried to draw closer but the Sig circled around him, keeping them a few arm lengths apart. The High Born that made him uncomfortable and he had no interest in the troubles of the DelaWorg clan.

Sig said, “Tell me are you thinking of moving on? Leaving Isobel and her brother behind?”

“I don’t know.” Galen looked back to the house.

“I have no right to tell you what to do.” Sig frowned, despite everything the old fealties and instincts were restless in his gut, “But I know your crimes as you know mine. We’re both damned.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t?” Sig was eager for the conversation to be over now, he wanted to see Angie and sit down in a soft chair.

Oh how domesticated I’ve become. He thought.

“I did what I felt I had to do.” Galen explained, “I know it was a mistake but I think now it was a mistake that would have come even if it hadn’t been mine. It was inevitable.”

Sig nodded, “As you will, but this place may be our one chance to live out our lives in peace. Don’t turn away from it so easily and don’t let the Hanged Man draw you into his games.”

“What do you know of the Hanged Man?”

“I know he makes promises to suit his Cause. I know he’s made deals with other… stranger powers so that he might cheat death.”

I killed him once I watched him die with an open throat and a mouthful of blood. Sig thought, but he kept that to himself, he was done talking now.

“I appreciate your bluntness.” Galen said as Sig walked past him, “But I still don’t understand. How can we be safe here? What protects us?”

“Jack says it’s love that protects us here.” Sig replied but his laughter was cold.



Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Old Faces and New Words

So there was this guy by the name of Todd and back in my college days we are good pals even though I dragged him to see Frankenhooker without any warning.

Sadly we lost touch, mostly because in those years I ended up losing touch with myself.

But here he is back on the Internet-

And he's got a blog and everything!

Stop by and give him a hearty Hello if you are so inclined. Check out his Quiptions and dare him to post pictures of his cat!

Reunions are awesome...

Monday, August 24, 2009

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Three

No branch of the armed forces wanted to be involved in 'Operation Silver Periwinkle'.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and Two

He'd always found humor in the most tragic of circumstances until he had a tragedy of his own.

5 Second Fiction Three Hundred and One

The starship Persea spent weeks in orbit around the Lodoarian Pleasure planet, finally someone found the captain.

5 Second Fiction THREE HUNDRED!

He fell into an automated sandwich making machine and died a hero.

5 Second Fiction Two Hundred and Ninety Nine

Sometimes at of night Yang would wake up and think a ninja orgy could be going on somewhere in his house and he would never know.

5 Second Fiction Two Hundred and Ninety Eight

Everyone always assumed the katana in the boss's office was decorational, that was before the HR massacre of 2007.

5 Second Fiction Two Hundred and Ninety Seven

This wasn't the first time Captain Hero cursed the asylum for the criminally insane's work-release program.

5 Second Fiction Two Hundred and Ninety Six

They say that hard times build character, well Amazing Ed was one Hell of a character.