Crossfire

The two thieves, hidden in the basement, could hear the sheriff and his men just outside the shack. Orders being given, a perimeter formed, lines made.

They waited, pistols drawn, waiting for them to kick down the door, or order them to come out.

Instead, they heard gunshots, hundreds of them, and lots of shouting, until eventually, silence.

The sheriff crawled into the shack, blood oozing from several wounds, but a native came in, slit his throat, and left.

The thieves were safe.

Or would have been, if they hadn't shot each other to save themselves from dying slow like.

Just One

The drink sat there, mocking me.

Around me, the party was in full swing, and the beer sat there, daring me to drink it.

Sean had got it for me, and I hated him for it. He knew my history with alcohol, and yet he gave me a beer.

Pretty soon, everyone around me would notice that I wasn't actually drinking my drink.

I picked up the glass, and I decided to say to hell with it, and took a gulp.

The taste of beer, but none of the alcohol.

I took back everything bad I thought about Sean previously.

Judging Character

He was dominating the conversation at the party, much to everyone's annoyance.

"And another thing, here, you, Sharon-"

"Susan."

"Right, yeah, what's your favorite TV show?"

I thought over it briefly.

"I guess... 'Tailor's Made' would-"

"There, you see? Instantly I know you're all about stirring the pot and drama, that show is all about backstabbing and stuff, and since you clearly have no fashion sense, you must be the high drama gossip queen of your social circle, yes?"

"Actually I just like the fact that Olivia Wong-Jones is half naked in like every other episode."

"Thus proving my point!"

Faith In Negotiations

It shouldn't have been a planet worth fighting for, it was just a lump of rock.

But for the Roxtost, it fit the description of the planet of their birth, from their holy texts.

And for the Lin-Sten, their obsession with 8 meant they had to have the 8th planet of the 8th star 8 staryears away from their home.

And the Caldins, war was everything they believed in, so of course they wanted to claim it.

Only the Wasysia pulled their claim, despite knowing what the planet truly was, they had faith the others would wipe each other out.

Racer

The screen at the top of the stadium changed, the bottom line now reading 'John Shelly - DNF'

John kept 'running', forcing me to keep up with him, not that it was hard.

"I'm still going!" He insisted through heavy breaths.

"It's been three hours since the last finisher, and you're still got a dozen laps!"

"I'm going to finish, you're going to record it, I insist."

I threw up my hands and changed it back, the clock not stopping so we could continue.

The next morning, every other racer tested positive for illegal drugs, our doping scientist Martha Porter-Shelly reported.

Drivers

The driver behind got distracted by their phone for just a second, but enough to run into the car ahead of them.

The driver ahead got angry by being run into the back of, but enough self-control remained not to charge out.

The driver behind got on the offensive, but not enough to convince the other driver they were in the wrong.

The driver ahead got angry even more, but only just stood yelling at the driver behind.

The driver coming up later got both of them, but they were only worth ten points each because they weren't paying attention.

Nothing Illegal

The boss of the betting company didn't ask him to lose the fight, or threaten uus children, not at all.

All he did was remark on how beautiful his children were, and how much it would help the betting industry if, as the heavy favorite, he were to lose. And offered him a donation to his children's college fund, if anything he was being super nice!

So when the fighter decided to take the 'donation' and bet on himself, it was very unkind of him.

But luckily the ref had children who needed college funds too, and he got DQed.

The Story Of Being Human

The story gets retold every generation.

Every generation thinks they're the first to tell it.

The details change, subtle differences, not major reworks.

Main characters will be gendered and colored as is appropriate for the generation, as judged by the generation prior.

So there is a delay involved, it never quite keeps up.

You'd think this would mean the story is dragged forward by the rest of society.

But it's the story that sets the path society takes.

Because one day, if there's no story, then there's no society.

The other way round would also be true, to be fair.

Check

We played every day, or rather, every day I crushed him.

It wasn't that he kept doing the same thing over and over again, he always did something different, it was just never good.

Until today.

Today, every move was brilliant, I was tossed around like a leaf in a tornado.

When he got checkmate, I stared at him and demanded to know how the hell he got good overnight.

He claimed he'd sold his soul to the devil for skill with chess.

We laughed, me much more than him.

I knew damn well I hadn't bought shit off him.

Old Angel

The Angel appeared in a blinding light, thankfully appearing like how we think they look now, rather than the monstrosity that the Bible describes.

"Human!"

I glanced around to make sure I was the only one there.

"Your God commands you!"

I waited for the rest of it.

"To do what?" I eventually asked. The Angel pulled a flaming sword.

"Your son has slept with another man! You must kill them both to cleanse the world!"

"And if I refuse?"

The Angel flickered to looking how the Bible described them, and I understood why people did as told back then.

The Feeling

The Feeling was felt by a sizable percentage of the galaxy. The few who were asked about it before they left said that they just knew there was something beautiful for them 'there'.

'There' turned out to be Babocha 4. Across a few years, people would make their way to the planet, make their way to a specific cliff, and then looking out off it.

And then the feeling was just... Gone. They couldn't explain it, and most made their way home.

Eventually the government got charged for galactic law mental alteration crimes, and won every major tourism award going.

Proposal

I would like to say that I knew I loved you from the start.

I would like to say that your smiles brings joy to me heart every time I see it.

I would like to say that when you say my name, it is like a choir of angels are singing it.

I would like to say that I want to stay with you for the rest of our lives.

I would like to say I love you.

I honestly would. But none of it is true.

But our wedding would make a lot of sense.

So, marry me,?

Statistician's Wish

It didn't look like a magic lamp you see on the cartoons, but a genie still popped out, as well as a large chocolate spinning wheel thing.

"Ah, welcome my new Master, have a wish?"

They placed a hand on the wheel.

"What's the wheel for?"

"Oh, well, every wish you make, I have to spin the wheel, see if you get it or death."

I thought this over.

"So, like, 3 is the mode of number people get?"

They shrugged.

"OK then, I wish for a trillion dollars."

They spun.

Despite understanding chance theory, I was never actually lucky.

Death's Feelings

After I failed to kill him for the fifth time, and I was tired, I summoned Death.

Death took the form of a young girl this time, licking a black lollipop.

"Yeah?"

"I've been trying to kill Rasgiven. He refuses to die."

"Yeah. OK. So?"

I stared at her.

"You... Don't you want to help take him down? Don't you want to claim him?"

She shrugged.

"If someone has worked out how to avoid me, I applaud them for it. I get plenty of you, I don't need everyone. You're good enough."

"What do you mean I'm-"

Rasgiven killed me.

Surviving Battlefields

Too many people want the glory of victory. They want their place in the history books, to be taught to children as a paragon of heroism. They want titles, prestige, honor.

Me? I've seen a lot of people like that. I've seen them charge into battle, full of pride and energy and guts.

Then later on I would invariably see them dead on the battlefield, full of flies and worms and, well, guts.

The secret to living through a battle isn't to fight for glory or for a cause.

But to fight to not die.

And maybe loot, I suppose.

The Clip

I think it was an extended magazine. Unless twelve in the stick and one more in the chamber was normal.

The first one was for the gang member who originally owned the gun, not that it did him any good.

The next two were for the greeter at the supermart.

One for the black dog to put it down, another to put it down after it got back up.

The next one didn't fire, so I needed two more to stop the big guy.

Then four in desperation to stop the horde.

Last one for me.

But it also misfired.

What A Boob

The motorcycle drove up to the gate, and revved its engine. The guard slowly walked out of his booth.

"Yeah?"

The rider pointed at the gate. The guard shook his head.

"Sorry, orders, no-one is getting through without authorisation."

The rider's helmet drooped, and they began to undo their leather jacket, quickly showing off some skin, of a female nature.

"Like I said, you need authorisation, not just boobs."

The rider pulled out a piece of paper and held it out. The guard coughed.

"And of course I meant... Wait this is blank?"

He looked up to a gun barrel.

Dirty Cross

So I was maybe seven or so years old. And my aunt and uncle were looking after me for the weekend, and so on Sunday, they took me to their church.

Now the church my parents, well, parent, went to was a pretty chill one, simple.

My aunt and uncles was very much not chill.

So after a bunch of signing and stuff in a language I didn't understand, we were on our way out, as was everyone else, when I saw people dipping their fingers into little pots by the doors.

So, being seven and relatively inquisitive, I reached into the small pot, trying to find what it was that everyone was touching.

My fingertips came out covered in soot, or dust or something.

As I stand there, staring at my fingers, trying to work out what had just happened, a hand came from behind me and made me make the sign of the cross, I think, with the soot covered fingers.

To this day, I don't know who it was, my aunt and uncle were ahead of me. I think my distrust of religion started there,

Coincidently, half the family hates me now, can you possibly guess why?

December 3rd, 2020

I saw the woman stepping into the machine, and I somehow knew it was a time machine.

So I ran over and pulled the door open and got in as it moved across time. She looked at me, shocked.

"I knew it! This year IS time travelers continuously trying to fix shit but it gets worse!"

She stared at me.

"I fixed nothing! This is how it must go."

"Wait, what, because of population control or something?"

"Maybe. It must go like this because this is how it went, one change could-"

My leaving the timeline caught up with us.

Lasting Words

Everyone had a unique voice.

You wouldn't think so, given how few words everyone had, but you still could sense people's personality, even in just a handful of words.

You had the serious but optimistic people who listed the details so they can be found later

You had the jokesters who were denying what was happening, ordering a pizza or giving bust measurements or something.

But in all of them, it's 57GH-8 that gets me, that said simply "I don't want to go."

Very apt gravemarker statement, I thought. Turns out it was a reference to a human TV show.

Projecting An Image

The Princess had been locked in the tower for a week, but she was still polite to the servants.

On the 8th day, the maid quietly had a word with her.

"I appreciate that this isn't the ideal start to the relationship, but Master is actually a nice man, he just needs to portray an image of ruthlessness to discourage enemy attacks."

The Princess nodded at this, as the maid continued.

"Now, I'm sure you disbelieve me, but I-"

"Why should I disbelieve you? You're lying? Shame!"

The maid burst into tears, knowing she'd get the whip for failure now.

Avoiding Unpleasant Questions

The accounts sat for decades, untouched. The bank had no reason to believe that they were illegal, or at the least immoral. No legally binding reason, that is.

After all, they were just numbers on cards, and then numbers on a computer. The money didn't exist out of that, as it were.

But then the accounts were accessed, the money drained, the accounts left with just enough to avoid them closing, which would lead to questions.

Meetings were held, to decide if they should investigate. The managing director decided not to.

Then drove off in his new expensive sports car.

Mental Strength

Glory had The Mindfirst dead to rights, given she pulled him out of the giant robot that had destroyed several city blocks.

But then they were both suddenly in a spotlight, onboard of some sort of spaceship. As Glory looked around, Mindfirst was still ranting.

"You can't do this to me! I'm the smartest man in the universe!"

"Good."

Glory felt the word, rather than hearing it, before Mindfirst lifted into the air and the aliens swamped into him.

He wasn't the smartest man in the universe, but he did have a bulletproof ego, which was more important to survive.

The Gravity Of The Situation

The artificial gravity generator turned off just as the ship pulled into the system, which wouldn't have been that big of a problem, given that no-one got slammed into the bulkheads, it did raise a problem when everyone felt the pull of gravity on them still.

Scanners didn't show anything nearby, certainly nothing that could create this level of gravity.

So despite the regulations saying that they shouldn't try to move with the artificial gravity, the captain ordered the ship to move away.

Everyone slammed into a bulkhead, as expected.

But they were thrown forwards. As something pulled back harder.

Take The Shot

The arrow was ready to fly, the bowstring drawn back taut as he waited for an opening.

He'd only have one chance for this. The Dragon's sensative, weak undercarriage was almost never exposed, the Dragon knew how to defend itself.

So he had to wait to use his best arrow, embued with magic and poison, and he had to make sure he'd hit it.

The Dragon landed, and then its momentum caused its back haunches to rise, and he fired.

As did everyone else, so while his shot didn't land, enough did.

He should have been happy, and yet, no.

Plans Change

The blueprint waa quite clear, the bunker was under the house, accessible through a secret staircase down and to the right, hidden behind the bookcase.

We broke in, got rid of the current occupants, found the secret staircases, tried to get into it, gave up, then set some charges around the floor of the library.

When we blew it, it brought down half the building as it all fell into a dirt pile.

But even though I'm in jail because of it, I respect a contractor who sees a saving to be made by putting a bunker under the garden.

No Desserts

Our eyes met across the crowded restaurant. Instantly, I felt the connection. A spark I'd never felt before, or since. I could see our whole lives together ahead of us, a lifetime of memories, achievements, ups and downs, a recollection of a life not yet lived.

It was amazing, I'd never felt like that before, and judging by the look on her face she both felt it too, and it was her first time as well.

We both went to get up, when our boyfriends returned with drinks for me, receipt for her.

My life's turned out ok, I guess.

The Specific Term

After intensive study, I'd finally worked out how to summon Death. Three different animal sacrifices, twelve different candles, 13th full moon of the year.

"Death, He Who Ends Life, I Beseech You To Appear!"

Nothing happened.

So I studied, and a few years later, I tried again.

"Death, She Who Ends Life, I Beseech You To Appear!"

Yet again, nothing happened.

I had a few years to wait for the next one, and I think I had it.

"Death, They Who Ends Life, I Beseech You To Appear!"

"Finally! It hurt to see you get so close before.

Answer's no."

One To Watch

The job posting, by being the oldest, was the first one you saw on the message board.

"Please find my watch!"

Newbie independent contractors or those just coming on board would see it, take the job, search for a few hours around the captain's quarters, come up empty, give up. It became the running gag of the station.

Until she disembarked the starferry.

She read the job, and tracked down the poster, and asked a simple question, and had the watch back in twenty minutes.

No-one else thought to check if it wasn't technically his watch yet, but the captain's.

Captain Wrong

I kept him around because he was always wrong. Like, always. If he suggested that the enemy would advance, then I knew they'd hold the line, or retreat. If he thought a weapon would prove ineffectual, I'd train my soliders to defend against it.

I never let on about this, because I was worried that it would ruin the streak. But I wondered if he knew.

Then one day, a sniper got a lucky shot, slammed into my gut. As I bled out, I asked him how bad it was. He paused.

"You're a goner."

The sole time he's right...

End Everything (Written)

The spellbook had an infinite number of pages, in theory. Every spell that was created in the world would appear in its pages, under the gaze of the Librarian. It was a boring task, but an important one, as someone had to watch and read to see if anyone created a spell that was dangerous, so they could be contained.

But then one day, the spell to end everything came up in the book. And while he would have been able to stop it, the creator was smart.

The spell was cast by reading it silently in your head, see.