February 2019 -- 75 Word Story Challenge -- VICTORY TO NIXIE!

[Artoriarius]

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 2019 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 February 2019


Voting ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 28 February 2019



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:

Empire


Genre:

Post-Apocalyptic



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! **

 

[Pedro Del Mar]

One Man's Treasure

There, the man heard it again, a little fluttering noise.
He turned his gas mask toward the sound.
It was hard to hear in the mask and through the hooded cloak he'd found to try and protect his skin from the polluted air.
The noise again, fluttering in the contaminated breeze.
He climbed carefully over the devastated old building, concentrating on the sound.
There! An old magazine. Paper to light a fire.
It's title 'Empire".

 

[Ashleyne]

DEAF WISH

Buzzing, buzzing always buzzing, overwhelming; she couldn't think.

Her pills should've arrived 3 days ago. No one in the survivors' chatroom, what if there's no one left? Just alone with this buzzing: "Shut up. Shut, up!"

She should give in, throw her flesh to the flies, the flies, coating her window, smothering the entirety of the outside world.

A faint ting flutters her heart. Her whisper shakes: "Finally." The teleport now holds her deafening pills.

 

[Ian Fortytwo]

The Robots are coming.

The robots cheered mechanically as the last human died after the nuclear catastrophe. Each robot had been programmed by other robots more sophisticated than the menial robots that had cheered. However no robot had started the nuclear catastrophe or in anyway responsible. Now that the were alone they build more robots each equally important and impressive. A goal was set so that within a few years to become greater than mankind and become an Empire.

 

[Calliopenjo]

My New Home

After WW III, no more Earth. Our civilization, whatever survived, had been catapulted into outer space. We had been rescued by a people called the Molers after a few of our pods crashed on their planet. An underground civilization that, for all intents and purposes, looked like a mole. We didn’t have a choice. I supposed we did but the alternative would not have been good.

I owed these people my life.

 

[Danny McG]

Last Supper

In unison we pulled the barricades aside. Chains flailed as the crumbling lintel crashed down, “Empire Cinema” in faded paint.

Inside the auditorium, figures scurried in the sudden daylight, gunshots crashing loudly as we advanced, finally this long zombie war would be over.

One was crawling, spine damaged, his low moans resounding, I hurried towards him, time to feast on his brainsssss.

 

[elvet]

Man’s Best Friend

During the years after the Blast, I protected the abandoned pets that lived in the crumbled ruins. My veterinary skills helped me heal and support the now feral population. The payback was a bond that harkened back to the time of domestication. They were my eyes, my ears, and in a pinch, my weapons.
My ragtag pack of dogs and I patrolled our territory, searching for trespassers.
All was well. My little empire was secure.

 

[Cat's Cradle]

For a Bride

Suzanne’s fingers ached in the cold water as she washed the high-waisted gown. She closed her eyes, pushed her hands deep within the fabric. The silk was so finely woven she lost any sense of its substance – her hands seemed immersed within currents of warmer water.

Her ring she’d traded for … food, protection? But the wedding dress remained hidden despite hunger or fear.

She finished, then called to her daughter, “Honey, I’ve something for you.”

 

[Daysman]

Door Gods

I miss their sounds and voices, those that sheltered here, now restored to life, returned to Earth, their deadly winter passed.

They crowded this imperium, this memory palace, empty now but for we two, my mirror companion and I, and just one thing.

A doorway here, a shining void that calls; it sounds like them and leads there too, into the human world.

We may also take passage there, but then who would stand guard?

 

[Victoria Silverwolf]

L'état, C'est Moi

Queen Maria waved to the cheering crowd. At her side stood her wise advisers. To the delighted laughter of her subjects, the court jester turned cartwheels across the floor.

It was a fine thing to rule over such a happy realm. Better by far than being alone in the dark, filthy ruins of a psychiatric hospital ravaged by war. Whatever had brought such a thing to mind? No matter; that was only a foolish dream.

 

[SPoots]

Empire of All

Scrape of dirt on a steel shovel. Digging in a land made barren.
I can feel blisters grow on my palms. Like paint, blistered by the heat of war.
Another shovel-full. Another hole.
Those above sent death by button presses, leaving us with devastation.
But still, we were left.
Behind me, holes are filled with seeds. Water is fetched from afar.
We work as one. The combined empire of all.

 

[Culhwch]

An Ordinary Kind Of Empire

My empire stretches from Maple to Cherry, east to west, Partridge to Lakeview, north to south.

Only one block, but it’s mine.

I miss my parents. A lot of the kids don’t, but I do.

No one knows where the adults went, but I know they’ll come back. They have to.

While I wait, I’ll keep our home safe. Defend our borders. Repel invaders.

And I’ll be right here when they come back.

Waiting.

 

[Justin Swanton]

After His Father's Heart

Bolingar surveyed the bloody, corpse-strewn field. The last battle, thank God. Beyond it the smoking ruins of London framed the sky.

"Boy?"

"Father."

"See? They will hate me forever, but my throne is secure.”

“Yes, father.”

“Learn from this. No-one can challenge me now.”

Bolingar gasped and looked down at the knife thrust in his chest, then at his son. Pietus smiled.

“I do father, and I can. They hate you. They will love me.”

 

[D.A. Xiaolin Spires]

apocalypSTICKS

Breezes picked up the dust. All that was left at their wake was a small pile of sticks.

“Our empire! It’s crushed!”

“Swept away!”

Minions gathered to pick out their favorite sticks. They could build a small shelter perhaps.

As they grabbed, the sticks glowed in luminous shades, growing larger, engorged with mystical substance.

Apocalypse became birth as these newfound staffs emitted particles. A new queen emerged.

The cycle of rise and fall would endure.

 

[Peter V]

Rise and Fall of the Gnoman Empire

Gnomes had ruled for a millennia, expanding over the years to rule all of the Faer lands.

Had they been too harsh on the folk? Maybe too Draconian in their enforcement of the class system? Certainly they had been complacent but did they deserve what the lowly Pixies had done to them?

Weeping, Gnero played one last lament on his violin as he looked upon the smoking ruins of the once great city of Gnome.

 

[Luiglin]

Proposition

Once more humankind dragged itself from the edge of the abyss, promising themselves to learn the lessons that had cost their forebears so much; to create an empire of peace and prosperity for all.

“I give it a thousand years,” said Azazel.

Gabriel stroked his angelic chin in contemplation, “I’ll take that.”

“Any others? ” called Metatron, to the assembled Host.

“No cheating this time,” said Gabriel.

“Moi?” Azazel replied, his face a picture of innocence.

 

[D3athw4lker]

The New World

“Mission… accomplished, sir.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, the map fades to black. No more borders. No more disputes. Just ‘The New World’. His world.

Turning to face the speaker, who stared past him, rigid and taut, he sighed.

Couldn’t they understand?

“They were W.M.D’s, built for one purpose,” he snapped, index finger itching wildly. “They threatened, I acted. Simple.”

“Very good, sir.”

Another sigh.

This damned apocalypse will be the death of me.

 

[Dr_R_Dizzle]

15-Love

Here's the thing about the post-apocalypse: by definition, it means the apocalypse is over. We went thru ours already - a degenerative, highly contagious, fast acting virus that impedes brain functions and induces violense. Now, with societie rebuilt and the world heeled, all that wuz left to do was sit heer and injoy this plesant tenis match.

"Game, set and match", shouts teh empire. The crowd beegin 2 cheer.

I sneez, n everyfink guz red.

 

[Shyrka]

The Emperor's Tears

The old man disappeared back into the rad-haze. Emmeline lowered the rifle, calling out as Cawly scurried back toward their ramshackle farmstead. “Who’s ‘e then?”

“Dunno,” sniffed Cawly, thrusting something up toward her. “Gave me a picture of ‘isself though, look!”

It was a silver coin, tarnished and ancient, stamped with the face of a regal-looking man. Emmeline frowned. “What’d ‘e want?”

“Said it was ‘is fault,” Cawly replied. “Wanted ta say sorry.”

 

[CTRandall]

Post.Apocalypse

User Name: Mark12345
Password: ●●●●●●●●●

Inbox: 1 unread message (0 read messages)

From: Royalmail.co.uk

“Dear Mr. Zuckerberg.

We have your mail. ALL of your mail. If you ever want to see your messages again, you will buy ten billion pounds worth of stamps before midnight tonight.

Welcome to the Post apocalypse.

Kind regards,
The Postmaster”