July 2016 75-word Writing Challenge -- VICTORY TO CHRISPENYCATE!

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Ursa major

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RULES:

Write a story inspired by the chosen theme and genre in no more than 75 words, not including the title


ONE entry per person

NO links, commentary or extraneous material in the posts, please -- the stories must stand on their own


WHEN WRITING YOUR STORY, PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS A FAMILY-FRIENDLY FORUM


All stories Copyright 2016 by their respective authors,
who grant the Chronicles Network the non-exclusive right to publish them here



The complete rules can be found at RULES FOR THE WRITING CHALLENGES

Contest ends at 11:59 pm GMT, July 23, 2016

Voting Ends at 11:59 pm GMT, July 28, 2016


You do not have to submit a story in order to vote --
in fact, we encourage all Chrons members to take part in choosing a winner




The Magnificent Prize:


The Dignified Congratulations/Grovelling Admiration of Your Peers

and the challenge of choosing next month's theme and genre


Theme:


Echo

Genre:


SCIENCE FICTION, FANTASY, HORROR



This thread to be used for entries only.
Please keep all comments to the DISCUSSION THREAD



We invite (and indeed hope for) lively discussion and speculation about the stories as they are posted, so long as it doesn't involve the author explaining the plot.


 
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Silencing

I stand in the shadows as he approaches the two ghost near the river.

My gun raised, I pull the trigger. He drops to the floor, dead.

I avert my gaze from the ghosts, for I know what they're doing. One of them is me strangling my sister. They appear every night; I can't stop them. All I can do is make sure no one sees what I did and lives to tell the tale.
 
Echolocation

Bat asked the Creator, “Why must I have leather wings and not feathers?”

Night was born. “Do not envy the birds. Here is your domain.”

Bat stared at the darkness. “How will I find my way?”

Moon and stars appeared.

“They are beautiful,” Bat said, “but dim.”

The Creator laughed. “Little chatterer! Because you love the sound of your own voice, it will guide you.”

To this day Bat speaks to herself all night long.
 
Umbra

I fear the day.

They stand stark; negative mirrors of one and all. They cannot be avoided for they are forever attached, mockingly silent twins.

No one else sees them like I do. No one else comprehends. I’ve tried to explain but my words fall upon barren ears.

I see him, I know him. There… he laughs at me, he points at me, he screams at me, the black echo of my soul, my shadow.
 
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The Cave

The cave is dark, but at least it gave me shelter from the wind and rain.
I hear something in the murky darkness.

‘Hello,' I ask, fearing a response.

''Hello," My own voice replies.

'I am alone,' relief floods over me.

A rush of wind, must be the wind, I think.

'Alone…' it seemed to come from the wind.

Something touches my shoulder. I turn around.

'You are not alone. I am here.'

I scream.



 
Back and there

"There again, see? No faulting SETI."

"But how can that be? The source is, well, 400 light-years away."

"Let's just show this to Carlin."

"What's up?" Carlin asked, seeing our turmoil.

"Real signal, sir. Quintuply checked."

"Show me." He peered over.

"Here - a forty year old signal, from 400 light-years."

"And how do you know it's forty?

"Well, sir, it's Echo and the Bunnymen."
 
Say What?

David shivered and not just from the chill. The manor reverberated with creepiness. Where had the others gotten to?

“Hello.”

“Hello, hello, hello,” The house replied.

David forced himself to keep moving.

In time, he found the others, but only their heads. The creature who had butchered them smiled at David, held up a bloodied knife in one hand and a blow horn in the other.

“Crap.”

“Crap, crap, crap,” said the fiend.

David ran.
 
A Tinny Ear

They say dwarves can smell gold.

This is, of course, a myth.

In fact, they hear it.

Torgrum pressed his ear to the cave wall and listened. Yes, the echoes were true. "All right, crew," he said to the others. "Dig here."

A few hours later they struck a seam.

"But this isn't gold," one of the others said. "It's just tin."

Torgrum stuck a finger in his ear. "Damn. Got a bit of wax."
 
Lineage of Evil


“He decapitated fourteen women,” I tell the jury. “His father mutilated 43. His grandfather disemboweled 52.” I pace in front of them.

I stop and stare down the jury. “The Defendant is an echo; an ever-continuing Lineage of Evil, who has no offspring, yet.

“Let’s put an end to the Baby-Makers from Hell now, before he makes another demon!”

I look over at the Defendant, fearfully. He’s smiling, his eyes glowing deep red.
 
Noise, Noise, Noise. . .

The dreaded place where only sound survived. It always started thunderous before it grew weak. Any noise had the possibility of creating the maddening replies that never stopped. Immunity only a memory to be replaced by that sickness. Fear would start before it grew to desperation for an escape. One pathway, then another before they blended together in an endless loop. A last scream before that too became an echo.
 
Travellers

The bogle has been four steps and three words behind me since I left Donalds' Fort.
"Why don't you find someone else to annoy?" I ask the fat faced halfwit.
"Else to annoy. To annoy."
I'm being punished, I know not why.

Most nights I sleep rough.
It's voice startles me awake.
"Around behind them. Behind them."
"What?" I mumble, but its attention is elsewhere. It hears something out there.
"Slit their throats. Their throats."
 
Blood & Echoes

This is where he brought them. This is where they died.

It’s cold here; hard. Their screams must have reverberated in the darkness.

No one knew. We thought we knew him – a family man, devoted to his daughter – but it was a smokescreen; lies. It seems obvious now.

My new friend mewls as I take out the knife. She struggles but I'm not worried. I know the ropes are tight.

Daddy would be proud.
 
Building a myth-es

"...mount kit-hair on..."

*Glue. Fluff.*

"...sonar..."

Blip. Blip. Blip.

*Click.*

...

"What did I..."

Did I?

"Huh?"

Huh.

"Are you speaking?"

You speaking.

"I am?"

I am.

"So, I got it right? You're an Oracle? I can ask anything?"

Ask anything...

"Sweet! No catch?"

No. Catch.

*Beam falls, erroded by rot.*

*Man jumps to the side.*

"Whoa, that was close!"

Was close...
 
Echoes, 4067 A.D. - composed by Minc Zoid, in honour of the fallen at the Battle of the Great Burrowing.


Overhead, Albatross-type starcruisers hang motionless in space

And deep beneath the boiling Earth, in labyrinths of molten caves

The radioed echo of a distant fight

Comes willowing across rock and sky

And inside our pressurized suits everything is black and sanguine


And no one showed us to the Underlands

And no one knows this battle’s wheres or whys

But something stirs and something tries

And giant magma larvae start to climb towards the light
 
Whispers of the Past


Interstellar ship Icarus - 2199.


They did this.


Eva cupped her hands against the observatory glass, cradling Earth. After the monsters fought it turned black, hanging in space like a rotted apple on a branch.


'Hello... anybody read me?' Her radio crackled.


They kill.


'We need assis--'


She switched the dial, shaking. The static of the stars crackled in her ears. She hugged her knees, rocking back and forth. 'Can't forget. Time won't. Shhh.'


Monsters.
 
To Me Alone

The musty room in the boarding house’s basement used to just echo my words.

I would sit down there, flipping through old magazines, wondering why I didn’t look like the models in them.

My scars burn.

Now I talk to myself and his words echo back.

“I don’t want to hurt them,” I say, looking at their frightened faces. My knife feels heavy.

It’s the only way,” the echo says to me alone.

I obey.
 
This Holy Place

It is midday, but I can see stars.

The canyon rises many miles either side of me, endless miles before me and no light reaches this place. No light, save which I have brought myself.

A flickering torch, my faith, a son’s duty to do.

My mother’s body is wrapped in her funeral furs.

I have carried her from above.

I lay her down, whisper her name, and it bounces against these rocks for eternity.
 
The sound of your own voice
The interrogator pushed the prisoner into the empty room and closed the door. The compliance officer frowned.

"Torture and solitary confinement violate Geneva II," said the officer.
The interrogator smiled and said, "This room echoes back to the prisoner his worst thoughts every second. We don't touch and the prisoner talks to us in-" he was interrupted by screams from the prisoner.

"LET ME OUT! I'LL TALK!" the prisoner screamed.

"-moments."​
 
The Echo in Memory

You came again last night. Helped me to the lake, where the wind and minnows rippled the moonlight. You were strong, warm; like always. Like I remembered.

"Still holding' on?"

I kissed your hands again; soft, even after all what happened out there. "I got nothin' else."

"Hush." You covered my ears this time, muffled your words.

Your fingers twinned in mine.

"You're still holdin' too."

You shrugged, brushed my cheek. "Now open your eyes."
 
The Screams

LOG_8
The screams are maddening. Considering the low atmosphere, they sound so close, like they’re echoing inside my head. We have to keep searching, air tanks will run out soon, but I fear we’re getting further into the cave system, totally lost, along with our hope.

LOG_9
We found the source of the screams. My air counter is flashing, oh what relief suffocation shall bring. NASA; if you get this message, never return.
 
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