November 2018 -- 85 Word Story Challenge -- VICTORY TO TYWIN!

[The Judge]

RULES:

Write a story inspired by the chosen theme and genre in no more than 85 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 2018 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, 23 November 2018​

Voting ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 28 November 2018​

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:

NUMBERS


Genre:

Science Fiction, Fantasy or 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,
as long as it doesn't involve the author explaining the plot​

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

 

[Karn's Return]

133​

Detective Kohan retched as he stepped into the room. “Dear god!”
Blood covered the entire room. In the bathroom, the number 133 was written all over in blood. He stepped out and his eyes fell upon a laptop, with a video of some monstrous supernatural entity, appearing as a young girl with claws and fangs, slicing the victim to shreds.

The detective searched the desk, pulling out a newspaper clipping.
‘Body of Ten Year Old Girl Found After Missing For 133 Hours’.

 

[nixie]

One up Manship
​

The centaur wandered far and wide saw many strange and wonderful sights but none as strange as this.

"Ahoy there stripes what happened to you, hope it's not contagious?"

"Nothing I'm supposed to be like this"

"I've never seen anything like you"

"Course not I'm unique. I'm the zebataur"

"Not very regal are you"

"Don't care"

"Can you shoot an arrow true, read the future in the stars"

"I've never tried, I can tell a tale in 75 words can you?".

 

[elvet]

Number 2.0

Welcome. Take a seat and get comfortable. We will begin shortly.
Many of you are anxious about the procedure. Let me assure you it is safe, and reversible, if you so decide. The ability to remove painful memories is not new technology, but our numbers are far superior to what has been previously available. Ours leaves you with a smoother thought transition after the extraction process.
Please attach your number headband and get ready to welcome a future unimpeded by burdens of the past.

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

A Recipe for Solace

Thirteen white ravens dressed in ermine robes of office, with eyes of fire and talons of finest china.

Eleven clocks carved from rubies, none set to the correct time, with chimes of glass and ivory.

Nine black roses, shrouded with snow, stolen from a secret winter garden by a blind child.

Seven tears from the ebony statue of a saint, collected by a virgin at midnight.

Five scarlet pearls rescued from the ebbing tide.

Three rays of sunlight wrapped in silk.

One broken heart.

 

[Graymalkin]

More are Less.​

“Who invented Numbers?” Loess fidgeted.
She wanted to scream. He smiled.

“Don't know,” said M.O. Ripley. “Before my time.”

Had he read her rising panic? His clinical expression said nothing.

They stared together at the countless moving lights.

The ship journeyed silently.

“Okay. I'm starting to feel ... more. Your timing's impeccable.”
“Thanks Captain,” the reassuring grin. “plenty of practice.”

She exhaled. Her face lit as he passed the tin, pills rattling, stars tumbling. Home and colonial worlds grew practically insignificant. For now.

 

[stormcrow]

The Superstitious Major Tom

“Ten”.

“Nine”.

“Eight”.

“Seven”. A secret never to be told; my mission codex, still sealed in its dispenser tube.

“Six”. Gold; the handsome payment I’ll receive once I return.

“Five”. Silver; my sentient craft, Pica pica, burnished to reflect intense solar heat.

“Four”. Boy; at just nineteen, that’s still me.

“Three”. Girl; empty months before I know her delights again.

“Two”. Joy; the twin delights of space-port bar and brothel.

“One”. Sorrow; my sharp salute should ensure good fortune for the flight.

I’d hoped.

 

[Jondo_]

Mister One

“Who are you?” The first stranger had wandered off. One of his friends answered.
“He’s Mister Five. I’m Mister Four.”
“I didn’t-- Who are you with? Who's taking my house?”
Four hesitated, then stepped back.
“Hi,” said another.” I’m Mister Three. This--” he acknowledged his last friend “--Is Mister Two. We’re taking your house.”
“Wait,” I said, “There are only four of you?”
Three’s face was blank.
Where’s Mister One?”
Two cleared his throat..
“You should be gone before One arrives.”
But then he did.

 

[Glen]

75 steps

don’t look back.
her grey grim dead form is behind me.
why did I enter this ancient house? I knew the danger.
keep my eyes forward
head for the door across this haunted hallway.
I count each step.
forty she’s still behind me.
fifty I feel her chill.
sixty I moan with fear.
seventy I am frozen. I feel her frozen breath on my beck.
if I only had ten steps more…

 

[Vince W]

It’s A Numbers Game
“Go for Satan. What? More? Look, we’ve got more lawyers here than a beach has sand. What’s that? Another priest? Whoa. How many priests? Stop. Hell was never designed for this sort of capacity.

Do you think we should pull the programs out for a while until we can get the expansions finished? They were? That long ago. So we have no presence on Earth. They’ve been doing all this themselves. Jesus. Okay. We’ll talk later.

Janet! Get me God’s number!”

 

[Ashleyne]

1 SIN EACH

Light bursts from the bulb, then extinguishes. He flicks the switch again, 7 times, always 7.

He skips 2 steps whenever his foot touches the stairs. 7 footsteps.

Number 32. He needs 3 more. Then another 7.

"Please," says 32, "let me go."

He sits on the stair and rocks near his victim. A tear tickles down his nose. "Hurry up and die; you can't be here more than... past midnight." More than 7 days.

He can't stab her again. There's already 7 wounds.

 

[Heijan Xavier]

Eleven Hopes

“97 years old, and your life was cut short.” Elijah cradled Rose’s head and closed her eyes.

“Master,” Elisha sobbed through rage and despair, “is all hope not lost? How could this massacre happen here? In Father’s house!”

Elijah stood over the bodies, hands and robe covered in blood.

“Eleven martyrs to herald the return of eleven exiled tribes, and a deathly ill nation realizing it has no choice but to heal. Hope is not lost today Elisha. Hope has finally begun to be found.”

 

[Cathbad]

Murder for Numbers

“Forty-six,” the Captain read the number carved on the victim’s chest. “We killed the murderer too soon – he promised us all four deactivation numbers, we have three.”

Lieutenant Briggs nodded. “Twenty minutes before the antimatter bomb blows!”
They left the victim’s quarters.

Briggs heard the quarters door click close.

An explosion threw them forward.

The Captain recovered, stood and looked back. All four Security Team members were down. He understood.

The Captain used his wrist com. “Engineering! Deactivation code is seventeen, twenty-three, forty-six, four!”

 

[Cat's Cradle]

Six or Seven

Knock ...
… knock.
Two – food or water.
Footsteps, then ragged breathing, the infrared goggles’ ghostly glowing; water’s poured over my mouth, restraints. I swallow, choke, return silent.
Footsteps, retreating.
Knock.

Someone, find me – it’s not too long, keep searching.
Now, there’s only counting...
One knock – isolation.
Two – sustenance.
Three – beatings.
Four – being washed.
Five – slicings.
Six – being held.

Each’s worse than the prior.
~

One knock awakens me … or two? Concentrate, count ... six, no – seven? Twin sets of footsteps, for the first time. There’s never been seven—

 

[Aun Doorback]

Proverbs 3:5-6


'Don't trust the numbers', Zeno implored.
The universe was shrinking. Whatever technology had been tried, had failed.
'Fundamentally we got the math wrong'. He sucked at his cigar, a vice which plagued him during times of crisis. ' we built our world on ordinary arithmetic, yet ignored that something could come from nothing. Now division by zero is being defined. Call it an error in life's code, but I suggest we ignore the science and start praying'.
He heard the groans.
' This is proof of God'.

 

[D G Coates]

THREE-POINTERS
While the spirit possessed the ball, and only the ball, we won every game.
The ball loved to shoot from outside the 3-point line.
Then it learned to jump – possessing other ball-like objects, following the ball’s movement.
The first heads it possessed I dribbled the ball, the ball mimicked - dribbling hobos’ heads, smashing faces. Bouncing up stairways was hardest, just to jump off rooftops.
Now we’re back to 3 pointers. Only a 6 point game; 1 broken neck from each hoop.

 

[Calliopenjo]

Computer Game


Goal: Fill board by completing colors with no more than five squares. Sounded easy enough.

Computer plays first.

INPUT. GREY. THREE

Uh huh. I anticipated that. The computer made a straight line in front of me. So if I move red three that would cut it off.

INPUT. GREEN. TWO.

Green two? Cyan two would do it.

INPUT. AMBER. FOUR

DESTRUC. DESTRUC. DESTRUC.

What? No. I gotta read the instructions again because each color is allowed five moves. After I kill the blasted machine.

 

[Danny McG]

Commute flight.

Bored, she chatted with a fellow passenger.
He was a physicist, he explained he struggled with dividing 22 by 7, calculating the next digit kept him awake many a night. He was flying to advise on an oil rig blaze.

She reached her hotel and rang her husband, his Irish brogue asked if her sales company had sent her anywhere new, had she had a good flight?.

She answered. “Same place Eamonn, I met a Pi-man, going to a fire”

 

[mosaix]

Now Look What They've Done...

“...yes, there may well be other universes where different universal constants prevail. The speed of light, strength of gravity...”

“75 word story limit...?”

“Unlikely. Try picturing a place where the Gods have allowed, say, 100 or even 300 as the limit.”

“100 and 300 seem a bit excessive. What would be the effect of a small change, say, 85 words?”

“Well, for a start, there could be more words after the end of this sentence."

"There are! This just isn't right. What on Earth has...”

 

[Daysman]

Fortunate One

Lightlike wormholes require little energy. The people of the crowded Earth built hundreds. They ported to the Kepler worlds where their descendants built thousands more. In a single century humanity's nine billion grew to seventy and lacking censure or limits they flew on.

Three centuries later, your kind number trillions. Yet there are still rich and poor among you. Many lack food, warmth, shelter, but not you. You will always have everything you need.

So please, lucky child, before your parents wake, eat your porridge?