MAY 2020 75-Word Story -- VICTORY TO HUGH!

Status
Not open for further replies.
Night Owls

The Prime Minister hooted, "Let Parliament come to order."
Three hundred forty seven owls of every size, shape, and breed ceased their hooting, garbling, and chattering.
The Prime Minister continued, "Human encroachment into our territory has become manifestly burdensome.
"I propose a campaign of defecation on all automobiles, persons and, public buildings.
"Furthermore, we will engage in a mass feeding on pets.
"All in favor?"
The forest filled with hoots of agreement...
 
One Fatal Night.

I swivel my head around looking for my next meal.

In the darkness I can hear a vole yards away.

Suddenly I can hear something a few yards away.

It's a gentle step, behind a tree not far away.

Whether I'm a little fearful my bowels drop my last meal.

It was a tasty mouse, white and furry.

Suddenly a woman confronts me, shoots.

I fall like a stone to the ground, dead, but why?
 
Reckoning of Crows

“Caw, caw. Caaaw.”
The crows gathered in the tree outside her home, their cries punctuating the lateness of the hour with dread foreboding.
“Caw. Caw.”
Tawny counted just shy of a score of them perched upon the trembling branches. Watching her. Waiting.
“Caw, caw.”
She’d dismissed neighbourly warnings against venturing out at night, and had wandered the moonlit ways regardless. Too late, she wished she’d heeded them.
The birds advanced. The clock struck midnight.
”Caw.”
 
The Night Owl

"Mommy."

"Yes, sweetie."

"I saw the Night Owl in the house."

"Night Owl?"

"Daddy calls it that. I told him it's six foot tall, brown, with big eyes and flies."

Chuckling, "Daddy saw it?"

"No."

"The lights went out."

"Mommy. Look."

"Gasp. What's that?!"

"The Night Owl."

"Keep away. AHHHHH........!"

#

"What...happened?"

"Good news mommy. I'm gonna have a brother. The Night Owl laid an egg in your head."

Mother touched an eyeless, bloodied hole.
 
Last edited:


Little do you know...
We githers and frobicks, Sam and I, we githers and frobicks.

In the shadows, in the darks, we gleebs, we chootles.

Happiness is us, Sam and I, happiness is us.

Down chimneys, through keyholes we creeps.

Into the sleeps of the peeps we goes, and there, oh joy, we drinkses dreams and frobicks. My, how we frobicks!

Then back to shadows we goes, back to shadows before the wakes. There we gleebs, we chootles.
 
The Hunger From the Void

Before the world’s communications went silent, one drone-transmitted video returned through a rift:

Within a grey void, a gelatinous, moon-sized mass clung onto Earth; through myriad interdimensional tears its numberless, miles-long tentacles scraped away the planet’s crust and vitality into a limitless maw.

The rifts appear nightly and we huddle, alert, in isolated clusters, and should we hear the sky tearing and cacophonous destruction we run, because mightn’t a few somehow escape this unrelenting nightmare?
 
Last edited:
Security Log - Guard 227:Hanover

[Audio Transcript]
October 31st 2007
23:00

Starting sweep; Area 7.
Visibility compromised; light fog.

23:15
Sweep complete. Clear.

23:22
Indeterminable sounds heard; Area 3; investigating.
Visibility poor; fog worsening.

23:32
Unable to verify source of disturbance.

23:36
Sounds heard again. Close now; Area 2 near perimeter.
Possible fox; approaching fence; visibility nil; torch ineffective.
Fence breached!
What the... Oh, hello little one.
[Soft giggle. Strangled yell. Gagging... choking... gurgling.]

[Young child’s voice]

Twick or Tweat...
 
The Nightjar and the Problem-Child

Harriet’s noons came at midnight. She’d had to turn nocturnal just to get sleep.

Outside, in air sharper than a finger snap, an animal stalked shadows, a dead leaf dropped into the puddled glow-cone of a streetlamp, and somewhere beyond, her son bellowed with rage beyond his eight years.

She went to him, to sing consoling lullabies until her furious dead son was able to get his own brand of sleep for that night.
 
Letting Go


Moonlight shimmered amongst the tall pines as Mother Owl roused her fledglings.

“The night is young.”

“Yes Mother,” three cried, but Little One fell back asleep.

When they returned at dawn, Little One was testing his feathers for flight.

He gazed out. “There’s a world out there.”

“Bur Eagles rule the day. Remember your father?”

His voice quivered. “There’s so much to see.”

Knowingly, she took him under wing, held him close and said good-bye.
 
Night and fog on Kepler 1649c.

I was holding the wheel. An unsteady boardwalk led down the shore, it was wiser to take the bicycle by the hand. The bigger and whiter moon already rising, the night has become cool. The white-throated kitten slipped out from behind the tree and rubbed against my leg. "Hello," he murmured. "Wouldn't you like me? My stomach is terribly empty. I'm afraid they left me here. And there's an owl on top of that tree."
 
Last edited:
Vigilante.


"You gotta let me go mister."

I thought the boy would sound more scared. Then I remember, he’s no ordinary kid.

"Sarge's deli is open twenty-four hours. I need to eat."

I don’t answer. Can’t let him get to me.

"Pastrami's fine. Better than the alternative, if you keep me chained."

The clock ticks slowly towards dawn. Is he slowly changing?

Paralysed, I watch as fetters fall from a tentacled monstrosity.

“Ten bucks enough, kid?”
 
Approaching Menace

I knew they were coming when the screaming started in the street.
Each scream stabbing terror into my soul.
Each scream gradually muffled, until silence.
The silence of death.

My neighbour's screams told me I was next.

They are known by many names: to some, The Closing Cloths; to others, The Impending Flannels; yet more call them The Imminent Napkins.

My door opened slowly, followed by a barely audible swooshing.

They're here.

The Nigh Towels.
 
The Owl Said Who

Two eyes peered out of the darkness.

The owl said, "Who?"

"Your new king."

"Who?"

"I am Magog, come from afar, raised a mighty conqueror and king."

"Who?"

"I require a parliament of followers to enforce my proclamations."

"Who?"

"Show yourself, so you may bend to my will."

The owl said, "Ha!" and came out with beak and talons brandished in deference to no one, a harsh welcome to the bold and foolish stranger.
 
BEWARE

The stray terrier hasn't stopped staring at Sian since she bought it home half an hour ago. The poor thing sports more gashes than a cutting board; she couldn't leave it outside.

The room darkens enough for Sian to walk over and switch the light on. Cracks and snaps jolt her heart.

The terrier rises, morphing into a naked hairy man, licking his wolfish fangs. Blood spills from his balled fists. He whispers, "I'm hungry."
 
What Truths Do Dreams Tell?

It’s a bitch.

Not sleeping again?

Something like...

Oh? Same dreams?


My friend, I’ve told you these aren’t dreams, I know they're real!

Not again! How many times have we had this conversation?

It’s crazy. I know. Maybe sleep deprivation has made me mad.

And yet, as two friends watch the night, things churn in the stygian depths and the amorphous old ones whisper their insanity to those that can hear.
 
Ordained in Darkness

At midnight, the ritual opened the way.

She recognised Christophe’s legs as he burrowed into the dark. Envy flared that she was last, but it would be found by spiritual strength, not brute searching.

She pushed in head first.

Pressure, squeezing. The walls alternately impeded and impelled. Breath snatched and lost. She released her sanity and tunnelled.

When the others emerged, born a second time, they found her crowned and triumphant.
 
The Making of a Night Owl

Creeeek.

There it was again.

“LIGHT ON!”

Light revealed nothing, …. Except,

Had there been a momentary dark cloud?

“Light off.”

Fifty-nine, sixty.

“LIGHT ON!”

Another puff?

“Marjory! Go to sleep!”

“Yesss, Mooom.”


Later, ears straining.

Creeeek.

Who’s there?”

Ha, ha, ha.”

“LIGHT ON!”

Clearly a puff. Wasn’t it? What was that smell?

-----


“Yes doctor, she’s real night owl. Claims there are demons in our house.”

That night.

Creeek.

“LIGHT ON!”

------

Insane? really?

Marjory knew better.
 
Gambling for your Soul: Player Three Enters the Game

As the train rumbled from Guadalquivir to Old Seville beneath the moonlight, three figures crowded a small table, cards in hand.

“Check” said the first, stroking a great beard.

“Check,” said the second, teasing a pointed goatee.

“Raise,” said the third, a pale man in a grey suit.

“Bold move for, uh, who are you again?”

“An envoy, for a much older master.” The pale man smiled as a violet haze fell across the moon.
 
A late night snack

Last night? Yes, I saw someone on this beach. I was, um, photographing military satellites.

It’s a hobby. Officer.

Anyway. Suddenly he's just there: Hoodie, hiding his face. Big, mad, tendrils of beard. They moved in... wasn't much wind. I babbled, like: “AH! I’m only… expecting an alignment...!”

He just nodded. Somehow... approvingly. Walked away.

What's happened?

...the fishery?
A giant hungry squid? He couldn't carry that - he's my height, stumbles, hardly The Mountain...
 
Late Night Hack

Exhausted, Jill sent another string of commands. Electric impulses reached out and found… something.

“What do we have here?”

> Who are you?

“Whoa.”

> Prepare.

“Prepare? For what?”

Jill's scream rose as electric tentacles engulfed her. With each charged caress infinite horror assaulted her mind to shreds. Madness bringing blessed relief.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.

Back
Top