March 2017 75-word Writing Challenge -- VICTORY TO DAVID EVIL OVERLORD!

[TheDustyZebra]

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 2017 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, March 23 2017​

Voting ends at 11:59 pm GMT, March 28 2017


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:

Work

Genre:

Science Fiction or Fantasy



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, as long as it doesn't involve the author explaining the plot​

** Please do not use the "Like" button in this thread! **​

 

[Ashleyne]

Poo and Gold

I chisel through the molten gold, stinking of crap and petrol. There's no greater relief than spreading fresh coins around the cage.

The dragons slam down from the sky, messing up my neatly placed gold. Bridget flares her nostrils, shooting fire, vaporising my arm.

I run to fetch the limb regeneration potion. That's the fourth arm Bridget's taken this month. Never mind. Next week, she's for the slaughter. Her meat'll fetch a couple million quid.

 

[Cathbad]

HIS MASTER CONSTRUCT


“Well, I ha’nt the right size, do I?”

“T’aint my fault, gordam ya!”

“Stop you’re bickering!”

“I gave ‘im a five, Demetri!”

“Just give him the right sized cog, Cor! We’re behind schedule!”

“Aye, chief.”

The Master Gnome looked upon his construct with pride. It was a mass of cogs, pipes widgets and dials!

“This will revolutionize – NOOOOOO!” His eyes widened in horror, his face turned deep red.

It had been put together backward.

“COR!!”

 

[Wruter]

FULL-TIME BARBARIAN HERO REQUIRED

Due to unforeseen consumption our client has a vacancy with immediate start for a barbarian hero to manage monster-slaying and rescuing of maidens in a busy kingdom.

Burliness preferred. Must supply own weapons and loincloth.

Experience of evil sorcerers and man-eating beasts advantageous. Training will be provided if necessary (our client accepts no responsibility for dying horribly).

Benefits package including all the treasure you can loot, dental, and the afterlife of your choice.​

 

[Perpetual Man]

If at First...

The precision of deft fingers, gently moving all the metaphorical cogs and wheels, making a well-oiled timepiece is a delicate undertaking.

Nearly a week’s employment then: a day of rest.

I see life blossom, gifted creativity bloom. The wheels turn. Contrast artistic divinity with war, the ingenuity of destruction conquers: stone, sword, gun, c-beams to cluster bombs - planets scorched to cinder. Failure.

I shall cleanse all.

Another seven days.

This time it will work.

 

[Talysia]

Panacea

Girding herself, Pan flew through the maze-like structure and soon found the infestation. A seething mass of something bubbled menacingly just ahead, corrupting everything it touched.

She charged. The entity screamed as it was struck, breaking into scintillating shards and shattering into glittering dust. Pan gathered the harmless remnants and, after a quick sweep of the area, returned to base. All in a day’s work.

‘Virus scan complete. All threats neutralized and quarantined.’

 

[EPT Henry]

Past Future Past

‘Hey John’ Peter wheezed.

‘Yeah?’ John looked up from the scroll he was scribbling on with his dipped quill.

‘Remember when we had machines to do everything for us?’

John smiled and sighed ruefully. ‘Didn’t end too well did it? So much death! How is dinner coming along?’

‘Not too bad’ Peter said ‘but these bellows are getting old.’

‘Too true.’ John said returning to his parchment and checking his word count by hand.

 

[Cat's Cradle]

Butt...or Buttress? (A Tale of Future Archaeology)

Sir — recovered this centuries-old internet fragment; appears to include writing challenge story/poll/discussions:

Specialists examined scans of the superstructure. (...buttress...?)
“The arch is collapsing.” (Buttress!)
“The crack’s wider than expected–” (...butt...?) “–we must divert miscellaneous gases during the procedure.” (Butt!)
“We could use the epoxy gun to reinforce the fissure.” (...buttress?)
“Indeed. Advise Mrs. Carlston–” (Butt!) “–that Tuesday we’ll begin work on the cathedral.” (BUTTRESS!)

Analysis: Genre/theme ambiguous…received zero votes...author unsurprised...

 

[Luiglin]

BLINK

The light mirrored his heart.

BLINK

They were connected.

BLINK

This last light on the console.

BLINK

This last beating heart.

BLINK

Everything else on the vessel, dead.

BLINK

So he waited.

BLINK

Waited with the light.

BLINK

Here in this cold dark.

BLINK

Here in this solid silence.

BLINK

His heart and the light.

BLINK

Synchronised.

BLINK

Where time didn't matter.

BLINK

Just here, just now.

...

 

[Calliopenjo]

Not My Fault. . .

I got out of bed at the morning bell. I washed everything before cleaning the cauldron. Then I had to go to the dragon’s cave and clean that. Yuck. That was bunches better than cleaning out the barracks.

I had to work off my punishment for turning my master into a sixteen-legged purple lily flower that sung out of tune. I told Master we didn’t have any purple powder but he didn’t listen.

 

[Culhwch]

Work Sets You Free

Avi stumbled.

‘Up,’ Shel urged. ‘We mustn’t falter, or we’ll be...’ She left the thought unfinished.

The guards’ whips cracked.

‘No ...’ Avi dropped her load of firewood.

‘Avi, don’t!’

‘No … more.’

The next crack was no whip. Dark clouds gathered. A flash of lighting. One guard screamed. Then another.

Guns swept around. ‘Witch!’

‘Avi-- It’s too much!’

One final flash, then … rain.

Shel sobbed, holding her friend’s lifeless body.

Avi had freed them.

And herself.

 

[Dave Barsby]

Belittled

“It’ll never work,” he chided smugly. “Time travelling. Not because of paradoxes, but you. You always fail at everything. Pathetic.”

I grabbed the saw from the workbench, swung it through his throat.

I laughed as he gurgled his last. It was the 17th time I’d killed him. I had dozens more ideas.

I activated the device, fired my consciousness into my past body.

“It’ll never work, time travelling.”

The claw hammer would be #18.

 

[Cory Swanson]

Behold the Works of God

“What a day, eh Zeus?”

“No kidding, Yahweh. I can't win converts to save my life these days. You've got armies of missionaries, I've got nothing but crumbling monuments. I've been cracking all over the place lately, but nobody even notices.”

“Buck up, buddy. The way things are headed, all my followers are going to end up killing each other.”

“I guess.”

“Don't forget to clock out. The guy upstairs really freaks out about that.”

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

It's a Living

"Name?"

"Kayleigh Hoffermeyer."

"Age?"

"Ninety-three."

"Position desired?"

"Saint. But I guess I would have to start as Blessed or Venerable."

"Sorry, no openings. I don't suppose you'd be interested in Damnation?"

"Not really."

"Nobody ever is. How about Ghost?"

"Boring. Zombie? Vampire?"

"In your dreams. Take my advice and settle for a nice, secure position as a house haunter."

"If that's the best you got."

"It could be worse. You could have my job."

 

[johnnyjet]

Working on a Chain Gang

Twenty tethered together. Tumbling through space. Waiting.

We're a new breed of workers, micro-asteroid miners, chained and sent to work the tiniest of asteroids. Big bonus potential. All goes well unless something happens. Like the crew chief daydreaming. That's my guess.

We got hit and the chain broke loose. Spinning away. Waiting.

Waiting for rescue. Or the next big rock to take us out.

The chain shakes again.

I hate my job.

 

[AstroZon]

The Huǒxīng Settlement

All watched nervously as the surveying team measured the palace wall again. It had been built and demolished twice now. The workers and foremen of the previous attempts were executed for their imprecision.

The Surveyor was satisfied this time. He notified the foreman and Building Minister. The relieved workers were rewarded with wine and song and a week of rest.

Beautiful Jia, the foreman's daughter, turned away sorrowfully knowing that she'd acted out of necessity.

 

[hopewrites]

A Master's Peace

Finished.
*seating himself* Now for some hard ern*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
Oh for the love of*answers door* "What!?"

"The cogifyer's broke down again sir."

"Again!? What're you doing with it, punching out huNevermind. I'll be down in the morning." *begins closing door*

*door catches on foot* "Tonight?" *distressed pleading face*

*grumbling* "Fine."

Human cogs are the hardest on machinery. Buncha robot-brained buffoonery. Goopy organic matter clogging up the cogifyer.

There!

 

[Coast]

I Owe My Soul…

The parcel waited in the company store.

“Ah, here.” The clerk lifted it onto the counter with a grunt. “Quantum Dis.. Discombobulator.”
He raised an eyebrow. “For the rocket?”

I nodded. My ticket off this dead end planet.

“There’s a fee,” he said, keeping a hand firmly on the box. “Inbound Goods Tax.”

“Put it on my account.”

“With this weeks groceries?”

I nodded. Tomorrow I’ll ask for more overtime.

 

[Heijan Xavier]

The Blithe-Dale Work-Place Romance

Dale knew her place.

Blithe had a truer love than she would ever be, not another cloned wife, but a brume of dark ether.
His portentous ego –laying cleverly concealed behind a visage of humble bewilderness –had conceived it, and on it he exhausted all the vigor of his spirit.

His work, the singular purpose and pride, this was Blithe’s soulmate.
Dale was a forsaken concubine, wishing she was never cloned in the first place.

 

[NbDawn]

Waste Management Engineer's Personal Log

No one thinks about how much crap I gotta put up with. Literally. They think my job’s easy, like all I gotta do is make sure the crap dumped at one end goes out the other. C’mon folks! We’re in zero gravity space. It ain’t that simple. Then there’s also the scrubbing, scraping, plunging, flushing, and, oh-yeah, don’t forget about all the verbal crap spewing from the crew. Bunch o’ stools, I tell ya.