November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- VICTORY TO CULHWCH

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Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Darken my Door



She saw him then, the smallest flicker of recognition. Enough. Paused for a heartbeat, then crossed to him, sprawling lazily in a chair. Eyes betrayed the act; darting over the room, lizard-like. He shook his head.
[/FONT]

“[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]No way out...[/FONT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Eve.[/FONT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif]” A smirk tugged her mouth.[/FONT]

“[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Don’t forget it…[/FONT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Ben[/FONT][FONT=Arial, sans-serif].” [/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]He opened his jacket, let it fall back. [/FONT]

“[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]You coded bullet-proof?” She laughed, leaned in close. Hot breath tickled his ear. [/FONT]

“[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Try me.”[/FONT]
 
Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

Space Stole Her From Me

I floated through the doorway. The place was wrecked, no chance for clues. The whole quadrant; blown the hell up.

“It makes no sense”

“I told you, there’s nothing here”

I ignored the chief and pulled open a carbonized locker door. Empty.

“What you looking for?”

Kicking off, I floated back past him.

“Look, she’s dead.”

Where were you then?”

“This isn’t about me”

He was lying. His ill-fitting space suit reflected his flabby truths.
 
Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

Our Secret Overlords' Last Day

"Welcome..." echoed in the darkness. "The keenest detectives all find us eventually."

Caged, Poirot sobbed.

"Ingenious," Miss Marple murmured, peering at the creature's bi-colour beak. "You've been here since 1688?"

"Yes! Our secret society rules the world from beneath. Nobody ever suspects the-"

"Dodos," she finished absentmindedly, pulling her knitting from her bag. "Almost nobody. The vicar's frayed scarf was the giveaway."

She edged closer, knitting needle sharp against her palm.
 
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Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

The Hidden Tip

Six turgid summer weeks my bedside investigation lingered.

I waited. A tip would come my way by happenstance, osmosis…something.

The trauma of an attack polluted her skin – claret on a tablecloth – but stains hadn’t caused her coma. What had?

I waited.

‘Can I change these?’ the nurse asked. I shrugged.

She took the parched stems from the vase and yelped, collapsing, a syringe sticking up from between her fingernail and fingertip.

So that’s how.
 
Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

Listen, doo wah doo...

"Shall I tell you a secret?"

"If you do, it won't be a secret."

"It will be, until I reach the end of the sentence."

"You're looking at ten years, that's a long sentence."

"Ha ha. I didn't do it."

"I know. I fitted you up. See? Not a secret, at all."

"Here's another: Detective Wilson is listening. I'm wired."

"Wilson's my man."

"Exactly! But Detective Inspector Davies is secretly listening to him."

"Damn."
 
Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

Hercule to Her? Cool!


“But Poirot, I still don’t understand. Little grey cells or not, how could you find the killer when she never left the girls’ school?”

.......“Mon cher Hastings. Regarde.”

“What are you doing? Your moustache... It’s a fake? And... your hair? That’s a wig?”

.......“Tiens! These clothes. I will be the glad to be rid of them.”

“Hang on, old chap. Don’t...”

.......“That’s much better.”

“Oh, I say.”

.......“You see, Captain Hastings?”

“By gad! Miss Marple!”
 
Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

A Night On The Town


Skulking through the dead of night
Stalking out his prey
Anger burning in his cheeks
Someone has to pay!

Crack detective closing in
Hot upon his heels
Will he find his man in time?
Rid the streets of fear?

A slash of blade a spill of guts
And then a piercing shrill
Jack's murd'rous spree continues on
His face a mystery still
 
Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

.
The Psimple Art of Murder

.
Solving crimes? A cinch. I read thoughts, playback secrets; discover the guilty. Plant a need to confess. (Weep, Hercule! Inject, Sherlock!)

A transfer to Homicide brought further triumphs. But the price...? Walking the mean streets of murderers’ sick minds. Disgusting.

Now I hunt serial killers for the FBI. Unlike mundane murderers, these predators are rarely found. And when they’re uncovered, no mind-trawling for me. I just insert suicidal thoughts, give them a long goodbye....
.

 
Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

Exit Plan



The room stank of dried blood and rust. The gargantuan apparatus entangling the room was indescribably vague, the corpse at its centre wasn't.

Where to begin?

Assets aren't allowed to die, not whilst their worth is still positive.
How had they managed to create this death trap?
Where did they get the material, the know how, the time?
They weren't supposed to stop working, let alone devise and build an Exit plan.​
 
Re: November 2013 -- SEVENTY-FIVE WORD WRITING CHALLENGE -- READ FIRST POST!

Time of the Wolf



Holmes examined the watch. ”Constable, the other item? A silver pencil? “
The Constable chortled, “Blooming miraculous, Guv. Ripper‘ll swing, yet.”

***

By the hearth-light, Holmes’ violin played dirges.

Holmes tossed me my watch.
The latest feed's blood covered me.
“Should’ve kept to whores, Watson. T’was the thief that undid you.”

From his vest pocket he drew my gift... a silver derringer with silver bullets.

As the blast ripped through me, I felt peace.
 
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