“Where did they go?”
“I’m not sure Sheriff,” Al said looking at the bowed head of his wife Lenora.
The three of them stood outside some old crumbling ruins in the red rock high desert. This was a popular destination for people staying at their bed and breakfast. Lenora warned against sending their guests up here but Al wasn’t having it.
Lenora heard tales from one of their more ‘eccentric’ guests. An old woman with hand made everything, down to her wicker woven sandals, told her of people going missing up here.
She claimed this was an old military outpost built during the great expansion West. One night some local natives tried to raid the camp but they were severely outmatched. The soldiers left none alive and buried the bodies under the settlement. They swore there never was any raid and so the tale of the vanishing braves was born.
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Mondays Finish the Story – August 10th, 2015
Ruins – © 2015, Barbara W. Beacham
Danny Machal August 12th, 2015
Posted In: Château de Montagne, Mondays Finish the Story, Short Stories
Tags: amwriting, château de montagne, mondays finish the story, short story, writing
The music was loud and thumped through every rivet of the hull. A party at sea meant you could make as much noise as you wanted.
“Where are we?” the young party goer shouted as she leaned into the Captain’s ear. Her body bopped and swayed with the music.
“About fifty miles off the coast of San Diego,” he shouted back.
“Cool!” she took a sip of her mixed drink as the Captain beckoned her ear back with a wave of his finger.
“Gotta be careful out there though,” his beard tickled her ear.
“Why?” she giggled as the Captain pointed his finger skyward.
Her drunken gaze struggled to follow it but her wide eyes told him she was sober enough to see them.
A big circular object twice as wide as the ship was spinning very fast above them. The other party goers were quickly ascending skyward in bright beams of light. Each body seemed to shoot up in rhythm with the beats.
He took her hand gently and kissed it smiling at her.
“Pleasure,” he said as her drink fell to the ground and her grip snapped away.
One by one they were all taken until just the Captain remained. His swift salute dismissed the giant craft and it disappeared in the blink of an eye.
He gathered a fresh box of black trash bags and started to clean up, bobbing his head to the music as it still blared. Human trafficking has gone interstellar.
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Sunday Photo Fiction – August 9th 2015
Docked sail cruise ship at night
Danny Machal August 12th, 2015
Posted In: Sunday Photo Fiction
Tags: amwriting, original, short story, Sunday Photo Fiction, writing
A sinister cosmic force wanted to end our species. 5000 years ago Asteroid 376GH was gently nudged toward planet Earth’s orbit.
A slow death.
We would know it.
We could see it coming.
If only 376GH had the courtesy to hit directly and not at an angle we would have had a chance.
Angular touchdown in the Siberian Tundra gave us all a week of pause to enjoy the Sun one last time.
The Sun.
In its last moments looking like a full moon peeking through a cloudy night sky we were suffocating.
Appreciate the gift 376GH gave to you.
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PHOTO PROMPT -© Madison Woods
Friday Fictioneers August 7th 2015
Danny Machal August 7th, 2015
Posted In: 100 Word Stories, Friday Fictioneers, Short Stories
Tags: 100 word story, amwriting, Friday Fictioneers, original, podcast novel, Poetry, short story, writing
“The team employed the use of Nightshade to get the information they wanted from their captive.”
“Wow. Old school -all natural,” Tanya jerked at the heavy chains threaded through cemented u-bolts in the floor.
The voice spoke again, “Going somewhere?”
She didn’t respond letting her arms settle at her sides. There was no need to use up all the strength now. She could break the small glass vile under her skin at any time and become a monster, easily escaping, but there was more information to be gathered.
“The Syndicate believes in using only the methods passed down from the Masters. They can be quite effective, sometimes even better than your modern toys,” he chuckled.
The chains suddenly went taut pulling her wrists toward the floor and rolling her body to the side. She felt the small glass rod break, ‘too soon,’ she thought.
Her vision went red as men started to spill into the room with guns. She could feel their heat and smell their blood. The hunger has her now. It will have them too.
© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham
Mondays Finish the Story – August 3rd, 2015
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Danny Machal August 5th, 2015
Posted In: Mondays Finish the Story, Short Stories
The final piece clicked into place on the pyramid.
“Get back!” Ford shouted to his excavation team.
Indiana Ford was damp from jungle humidity and nerves.
He sat the puzzle pyramid on top of a small stone snake statue; hates that thing.
Ancient mechanisms whirred and clicked to life all around them forcing great stone obelisks to break the earthen seals of their old tombs.
Ford and his team scrambled toward the foliage seeking firmer ground among the trees.
Six great monolithic monuments rose; with the tiny puzzle pyramid at their core they were an ominous sight.
Fear gripped the men as decorated symbols in the rough stone surfaces began to pulse with a blue glow.
They all were quick to scatter leaving Ford by himself with the device sparking and humming now.
He stared transfixed at the tiny puzzle pyramid waiting for it reveal the meaning of all this.
There among the sparks and arcs of electricity his Father’s face appeared, “Junior!”
Indiana’s knees wobbled slightly at the sight of his dead Father. The feeling was quickly overcome by an all too familiar frustration when his dad used that name.
“I told you never to call me that,” he said.
Al Forbes
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Danny Machal August 4th, 2015
Posted In: Short Stories, Sunday Photo Fiction
Tags: amwriting, fiction, short story, Sunday Photo Fiction, writing