A collection of Sci-fi short stories written for various smackdown competitions held in the pub.
The Earth moved: Basic picture round
Deja Vous - Candlepunk and a continuation of the Earth moved.
The Twilight Zone: A mash up of two stories...
Spunky heroine round of LayethTheSmackDown's contest. For this round we had to choose our heroine and interweave the feel and lyrics of the music paired with it as a base for the story.
Word count on completion: 2233
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The Pieces Fit
How can two men, birthed from the same womb, who look the same, act the same, and love the same, expect me to choose between them?
And how can these same two men expect me to keep a secret when my mind is connected with thousands of others? Others who only have to look beyond a thin veil to see my deepest, darkest desires and fears?
Dissonance against the collective is brewing, our connective web mildewed and smouldering with accusation and contempt. I can feel the Guardian drawing closer, searching every nearby tendril for culprits responsible for the temple bombing and the death of numerous of their kin. They can sense my fear, I know it.
If I'm to protect the men I love, I have no other choice than to embrace the cold silence.
"Rose?" Steve yelled, jerking awake the instant Rose dropped out of the Web.
"She's already gone, Steve," Micah said through the open doorway. "I told you we should have taught her how to shield."
"You heard it too?" Steve asked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Although phrased like a question, it sounded more like an accusation.
"Of course I did. Everyone with a connection to her would have heard it. She knew enough about the Web to know that severing her own tether would destroy any tendrils to us, and through us, the Resistance. We're safe. She's safe."
Steve threw the blanket off and stood to face his brother, snorting in disgust. "How the hell can you be sure of that? She could be dead for all we know." He yanked the day before's jeans on and pulled a sweater over his head. He then dropped to one knee to search under the bed for his shoes. "There's nothing but a dark space where her light should be. We need to find her," he said from the depths, his agitated tone muffled by a plethora of discarded food wrappers and clothing.
"And do what? The Guardian won't notice it's her missing, they'll assume whoever occupied the chord has died. If we start a hunt for Rose, they'll know something's up and start digging deeper. It'll put the entire operation in jeopardy."
"I know you're only involved with her because of it, but is that all you care about? Your precious operation?"
"Steve," Micah warned as Steve pushed by him, grabbing his jacket from the hook by the door. "Rose will be fine."
"Whatever. I need to see it for myself."
Flinching as the door slammed behind Steve, Micah focused on making a secure connection with Kaspar.
