Fantasy Drabble #385: "The Beast"

"We have... a problem."

The Baroness rolled her eyes. "You may have a problem, but you've been paid handsomely. I expect delivery, or there will be..." the faintest trace of a wicked smirk slithered onto her face "...penalties."

"There is the matter of safety, madam. The... item is more difficult to handle than anticipated. If we could discuss—“

“There will be no discussion. Off with you.”

He withdrew to the anteroom, where Yon waited.

“Well?”

“She's adamant.”

“Fine. We can get the beast here, the chains should last a few more hours. After that...” Yon shrugged.

SF Drabble #498: "Plague"

He looked up at the warehouse wall for a long time, taking it in. Eventually, he rested the shotgun on his shoulder,  We might just make it though this. 

She laughed, nervously, a release of bottled-up tension. “Jesus.”

"But, what could have done it?"

"Maybe something we pass around they weren't immune to. Remember 'War Of The Worlds? I think that was the common cold. Lord knows they ate enough people to be exposed."

"This isn't fucking science fiction, Marjorie."

She gestured to the giant insect embedded into the wall. "Looks pretty much like fucking science fiction to me, Brett."

Lady Luck

I’ll make a deal with you: if you roll a six, I’ll cut you loose. I mean it, I’ll cut the ropes, I’ll unlock the door, and you can run. I won’t chase you. Any other number, though, and… here’s the gun right here.

Or, you can roll again. If you roll a six again, I’ll not only cut you loose, let you go, but I’ll wait until the cops come and let them catch me.

Or you can roll a third time. And if you roll a six again, I’ll take the gun and shoot myself in the head.

From Beneath

He poured himself a brandy while she rubbed her wrists; after taking a sip he took a moment to straighten his tie, and then placed a bottle of water on the floor next to her. “Well. That was—”

“Mmhmm.”

“I didn’t think I’d enjoy that as much as I did. You were… you were right.”

Of course I was right. “We could do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that.” He looked into his glass, swirled the liquid around. “And the paddle?”

She’d brought it, this time, but hadn’t let him use it. You’re mine now. “I suppose. If you’re good.”

You Really Have To Want It

He staggered across the rocks and broken shells towards a figure waiting on the beach, trailing blood in the water from his cut-up feet; he dropped to his knees as soon as it was safe.

“Welcome.”

He managed: “Yeah, gimme a minute.”

“Take all the time you need.” The man was dressed in an expensive suit, not a speck of sand on him, not a drip of sweat. “Was it necessary to blow up the boat?”

“No witnesses.”

“I admire your dedication to operational security.”

He sat down on the sand, nodded. “Thanks.”

“So let’s talk about your immortal soul.”

Comet Supper

“What are you doing down here? Everybody’s eating.”

She’d dragged the old patio chair down to the beach, and was sitting on it, staring out at the sunset. “I’ll eat later.”

“Only a couple hours now, you should—”

“I’ll eat later.”

He walked back up to the house, where everyone was gathered around a dinner table, refilling wine glasses over mostly untouched plates. “She’s not coming. She said she’d eat later, but she’s not coming.”

“But—”

“Let it be, Mandy. Just…” He sat back down. In the kitchen, the oven door opened with a squeak. “Don’t say anything to Mom.”

Restore From Backup

“Do you still remember how to play?”

He turned his face towards her, cocked his head, stared, then turned back and pushed down another key.

Does he even understand me? There was enough flash memory to hold him, at least after the hurried hardware upgrade, but the CPU was still a small one. “Do you remember the Debussy? Or the Stravinsky… ‘The Five Fingers?’

He turned, stared at her again.

“I know, you don’t have enough fingers now.”

He leapt from the edge of the keyboard into the air, flapped his wings, circled the room twice before finally alighting on the windowsill. He didn’t seem to be concerned with the outside, but rather with his own reflection.

“It was the only thing I had anywhere near ready. I’ll have to build a new chassis for you, call in Rémy to do the skin and hair, it’ll take some time.” She tapped the keyboard so the screen would wake, revealing design plans already begun. “Weeks, maybe?”

He didn’t look at the computer. After a moment, he flew back to the piano, slowly pushed down a key, then another.

“I wonder if, when you’re a man again, you’ll remember how to fly.”