TIE-BREAKER POLL - 300 Word Challenge #8

[Ursa major]

For, I believe, the second time in its history, we have need of a tie-breaker to decide the winner of the 300 Word Challenge.

Congratulations to all entrants, and especially to those two - Mouse and The Judge - who stood above all other comers.

The rules for the tie-break are simple:

Each member has only one vote to cast​

No member may vote for his or her own story​

The poll will close at 11.59pm GMT on Wednesday, 20 February, 2013​

Please keep comments to the Discussion thread -- any comments posted here will be moved.

And now for the stories, in the order of posting:​

*****​

Live Forever, Die Alone by Mouse​

I go into the chippy and watch the young lad plunge the basket into the boiling fat. My stomach rumbles as the potatoes crisp and, if I imagine hard enough, I can even smell it. ​

It's empty now though. There is no lad. No chips. Everything's covered in dust. Nothing to eat here.​

I wander back outside and walk along the promenade. The wind blows papers and bits of rubbish across the street. It's the only noise I hear. ​

Sometimes I wonder if I've forgotten how to speak. I don't bother trying. What if I have forgotten? Not that it matters. There's nobody to speak to but myself and I've never been a very good conversationalist. ​

I wish there were zombies. Or vampires. Or some sort of monster you used to see in films. Something I could hunt, or play with or, I don't know. Shag. Eat.​

I'm so hungry I want to cry. There's nothing left anywhere. Nothing. ​

God, I wish the sun would blow up. Or an asteroid would strike. I wish aliens would come and take me away. ​

Please come and take me away.​

I clamber over a wall, stumble across the pebbled beach and keep going until I'm waist deep in the sea. The sea is stagnant now, like a pond. The tides have gone. Everything's gone. Sometimes I remember that it's weird.​

I take a breath and disappear beneath the water, breathing out, watching bubbles rise, and then I breathe in until my lungs fill with water. ​

I've done this before. ​

I didn't die then either.​

*****​

The Soul Collector by The Judge​

I follow the fire.​

My sisters follow the storm-tossed, the rock-wrecked, but I always seek the flames.​

I am Cassandra at Troy watching the grounded ships, their carcasses ablaze, the horse created from their timber ribs filled with death.​

I am Brynhildr, lading the ship-pyres with slaves and raped women for the funerals of Viking lords.​

I am Cortés, lighting the brand that prevents his men leaving.​

I am the fire-ships of the Armada, the hellburners of Antwerp, the explosive boats of wars and petty conflicts.​

I follow the fire...
... and I find you.​

You are alone. Your companions dead, you near death, yet you struggle to save your ship – the ship I have come to collect, to bring her spirit to our realm.​

“Come on, old girl. Come on.”​

You are not the first to speak to a ship as if she lives, as she will live, indeed, when I bear her home, yet...​

Thousands of your people lie suspended in her depths, waiting for their new world, their fate incineration in their cold coffins if she burns, but your thoughts are not with them. You think only of her, of her beauty and valour and strength.​

In her, too, there is difference. She is aware. The fire already blisters her skin; she knows I will release her from pain, yet she fights for your life, as you fight for hers.​

I follow the fire... But, for once, I douse its flames. I turn her from the sun which would consume you both, and I send you safe across the void to your new world.​

She will come to us one day, in flame or in wreck or in age. But, perhaps, when that day dawns, I shall carry home two souls, not one.​