War In The Year 3030

The ticking of the machines were so loud they could be heard from a mile away.
“This isn’t going to be easy. Those bastards have re-formulated their ships, and I’m not sure if these will do the trick.” Our commander points to the explosives nearby. I take a deep breath and swallow the fear that surges up within me.
“After we send these their way, we’re going to have to come in on foot. All our Saber Bikes have been disabled.” He says glancing to the pile of rubble that used to be our Bikes.
“Now are you with me?!” He says his voice rising.
“Aye Sir.” We all say in unison.
“No, I said ARE YOU WITH ME?” He says his voice booming over the small army of us.
“AYE SIR!” We yell back at him.
“LET’S GO!” We each grab an explosive pack and turn it on, sending it towards the machines. They fly off into the air, their trackers focused and ready.
                We patiently for the booms, but nothing happens. “Sir, something isn’t right.” I say a bad feeling creeping up my spine. The commander glances at me and I can the doubt in his eyes. But before he can respond the explosives are flying back at us. I barely have time to snap on my teleportation unit. It takes me a good couple feet away from the explosion but I can still feel the heat. Hundreds of screams echo out from the fire as I lay in the rocks, my face and arms cut open from my landing. I stand up and look to where the Army is burning. I am shocked and I feel so sick that I might throw up. My legs go weak beneath me and I fall to the ground.
                “NOOOOO!!” The piercing scream finds its way out of me. I’m on my knees, my sobs coming in waves. This isn’t the first time this has happened to me. History just seems to repeat itself.

                I have been in many wars throughout my lifetime. This war is the worst one of them all, because it involves the Oyers. The Oyers are a mutant species from another planet, they invaded our planet two years ago and they just keep killing. Killing and taking. It’s what they do best. There was nothing our planet could do to stop them. They were just too advanced with their technology. Here I am again watching another one of my squads die and there’s nothing I can do to change it.
                               

The machines are getting closer now, and I pick myself up from the ground. A ferocious anger builds inside me and I grab my gun. I stomp my way toward the direction of where the machines are coming and plant myself still, waiting for them to come. I brace myself and take a deep breath. No more running from death, it’s time to face him head on.
                The machine finally makes it’s way around the corner and I stand there unmoving. The machine is like a giant mechanical animal, stopping to stand right in front of me.
“I challenge you!” I announce into the open air. My voice sounds weak.
“I CHALLENGE YOU, I know you are in there, operating this big piece of scrap metal. I know you could kill me now, but where’s the fun in that eh?” I say louder this time, my voice more confident. I grip my gun tightly in my hand. The top of the machine swivels open and out steps an Oyer. They look almost identical to us, except where my skin is blue theirs is a pale tan white color. Where I have deep black pits for eyes they have pupils. “Give up now, and maybe we will let you live.” The man says. He wears a uniform with a flag on it. The flags colors have red white and blue and in the middle is the planet that they come from. Planet Earth.
“I’m not afraid of you!” I reply, raising my gun.
Oyer in our language translates to human.
“I’m sorry, I really am.” He says and suddenly the machine raises it’s large canon at me and fires. 

Challenge #89

Hey guys! The challenge for this week is to write a story that is set in the future during a war.

If you would like to join us for fan friday you can write a story, draw a picture, make comic whatever you want. Email us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com

Enjoy!

The Queen Bitch

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Long straight black hair and bright blue eyes, with a mischievous smile on my face. The outfit I’m wearing is bold and sexy, short dress with platform heels.
I grab my purse and keys and turn one more time to check myself out in the mirror. I’m going to light it up today.
                When I get to the studio the photographer’s jaw almost drops. “Darling you look stunning! Who did your hair and makeup today?” He asks. I laugh a little. “I did, you know I have more talent than just modeling right?” I say. He gives me a little smirk before clicking the keys on the computer.
He brings up the shots from yesterday’s shoot. It was Halloween themed and I was dressed up like Medusa. “Amazing as always Clyde.” I tell him. We go through each shot analyzing them together, when my phone starts buzzing from my person.
                I dig it out and see whose calling. Boy Toy #1 as expected. “Hello handsome.” I answer.
“Hello yourself sexy.” He says back. I smile and give Clyde a wink as he shakes his head.
“What are you doing tonight?” He asks me, the desperation in his voice strong. I pause for a bit before speaking. “Honey you know I’m a busy women, tell me something that’s going to make me want to see you.” I say with such fierceness in my voice you could have called me the Queen Bitch. He doesn’t say anything at first. “I don’t have all day lover boy.” I tell him.
“Well how about you and me at Club Ice? Drinks, a little dancing, and maybe something fun afterwards, if you catch my drift.” He says. I’m practically asleep at this point. “Boring, sorry sweetheart, but that just doesn’t cut it with me.” I say and hang up the phone.
                “You are so harsh darling.” Clyde tells me, not looking away from the screen.
“No, I’m just truthful. I go to the club almost every night and he thinks that’s special? Please.” I laugh. Clyde laughs with me. “I need someone who will take me on a wild ride.” I say. Clyde looks up at me from the computer. “What exactly is your take on a wild ride?” he asks one eyebrow raised. I smile at me. “Well first off we need a man with muscles who definitely owns a motorcycle. He doesn’t come swooping in with flowers or shit like that, no he just shows up and tells me to hop on. Then he takes me somewhere completely off the grid and by that I mean somewhere dangerous and off limits, no trespassing allowed. When we get there we find a nice spot and just start going at it. Hot and dirty sex with my sexy muscle man. When we get finished I’ll tell him to close his eyes, saying I have a surprise. That’s when I’ll sneak out the back, steal the motorcycle and drive off into the sunset all on my own!” I say. Clyde is staring at me with an amused expression.
                “Darling, you are one bad bitch.” He says. I smirk at him. “I know.”

Stilettos and Scotch

            I am the woman that mothers warn their good boys about. I am the woman that bad boys drool and fumble over. I am the woman that could make an angel fall and a demon crawl. Long dark ringlets frame my sun kissed skin, my golden orbs swallow your soul, and my rose petal lips are mine to use to savor the taste of your sweat and blood.

            Tonight I walk out on the town. The only bar awake at this hour, one that plays live music till the wee hours of the morning, is the only place to have fun this night. And this night, fun will be had. My six inch stilettos walk on the ghosts of those who have fallen in my wake as I make my way there, the music thundering ahead of me as a procession to my coming.

            As I enter the dim lit building, red and white lights flashing and swaying in ways that make it obnoxious to even have your eyes open, Sunglasses at Night goes through my head and I wonder if I should have brought my sunglasses with me. But then I make eye contact with the bartender, tilt my head as if I am looking down on him, and he licks his lips and smiles in a sheepish way and waves me over.

            “Can I buy you-I mean, get you-I mean,” He fumbles. It’s perfect.

            “Scotch.” I smirk and trace my finger along his. He gulps and laughs in a way that makes me think of Dopey.

            My drink get to me before anyone else gets theirs, and I walk away. I don’t hear him holler for the cash, I do hear someone demand they get their damned drink. Drinking the scotch at the edge of the crowd, watching the band, I wonder if there is a point to toying and taunting. And then I make eye contact with the bass player, and he misses a note. I smile into my glass. There is a point.

            Before the bar closes, before the band leaves, I get my entertainment. The bass player fumbles his moves and is in shock at how bad he is doing at his best act. I take control, make him mine, I make him pur and keen and ask for my contact information afterwards. I give him the e-mail of the dominatrix agency I work for, the number is for the phone sex business I work under, and I give him the address to a porn shop I frequently go to.

            He was fun, but I want a real man.

Challenge #88

Sup!

The challenge for this week was to write a story as your alter ego! If you would like to join us for this challenge, please do! Send us your own work for Fan Friday to inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

Catch ya later!

Below The Surface

I sit in the bath tub letting the warm water relax my body. It’s been awhile since I’ve taken a bath, especially one like this. I used to hate taking baths as a kid. Strange to think of how much I depend on them now.  As the steam rises up from the tub I take a deep breath. I reach over to the corner of the tub where I keep my cigarettes and lighter.   Grabbing the box in my hand, I take a peek inside. All that’s left is one cigarette and it seems fit considering the circumstances.
                I light up the cigarette and inhale the sickly sweet nicotine, my last cigarette for my last bath. 
After taking another long drag I dip the tip of the cigarette in the bath water and listen to it hiss. Closing my eyes I take one last breath before going under the water.
                I stay like that for a long time until my body begins to sink further and further down. The shooting pain comes now like millions of pin pricks all across my skin. I can’t help but thrash around in the dark water. As many times as I’ve done this I never get used to the pain. My lungs feel like they are about to burst when suddenly I break to the surface. I am no longer in my apartment bath tub in San Francisco, and no longer am I twenty-four years old.
                I am in Maine, in my old home with the claw-foot bath tub. Bubbles upon bubbles surround me as I sit in the warm water. I am six years old. My beautiful mother is sitting on the bathroom room floor right up against the tub and she’s reading me a story.
                “And the King said to the Queen ‘We only have four days left till the celebration! We must prepare at once.’ Away they went gathering supplies.” I smiled, the child-like innocence filling within me like it always does. Only this time it was bittersweet. I look down at the bubbles and start playing with them. My mom stops in the middle of the story. “Sweetie what’s wrong? I thought you loved this story?” A twinge of panic goes through me as I realize I’m not acting how I should.
“It is my favorite Momma! I’m sorry I promise I’ll pay attention.” I say. When you go to the past there are things you can’t mess with, especially with a time zone as sensitive as the one I’m in.
“Alright then, one more chapter and it’s off to bed. Don’t want you turning into a raisin now do we?” She says smiling at me. It breaks my heart into a thousand pieces, but I just smile back and laugh.
                She keeps reading me the story and I wish it didn’t have to end. I can’t leave this bathtub, or else I’ll be stuck in the past doomed to relive my life again. I’ll have to watch my mother die all over again, and it’s the one thought that keeps me from getting out of this tub.
“And they all lived happily ever after, The End.” The story ends just like it always does, with a happy ending. But not for me, I have to go back to a future without my mother in it.
“Thank you for reading me my story Momma!” I tell her. “Can I have my special towel tonight?” I ask her. It’s the same thing I’ve always asked every time I come here.
“Of course sweetie, let me go grab it okay?” She says. I think of the bright green towel with the frog on it. It was one of my favorite things as a child and my nostalgia gets the best of me.
                I take a deep breath and plunge beneath the surface of the bubbles, holding my breath until I feel my body begin to sink. Farther and farther it goes and I brace myself for the pain. Only it doesn’t come this time, I feel only a cold chill. I begin to panic underneath the water, wondering why I’ve never felt this sensation before. Suddenly I’m rising to the surface fast than I ever have before.
                Strong hands pull me to the surface as I cough and gag for breath.
“SUMMER?! Are you okay? SUMMER?” I open my eyes to find someone I’ve never met. A handsome stranger who is holding my naked body. I stare at him with fear in my eyes.
“What the hell were you doing?” He asks me. I don’t answer; I just keep staring at him as the realization dawns on me. I’ve done something wrong to the chain of time. Something was changed, somehow someway and now a stranger whom I’ve never met is in my house.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asks me with concerned eyes. That’s when I know he’s not just any stranger; he’s a stranger who’s in love with me. But what did I do wrong? What did I change? I think back to what I might have done and that’s when it hits me. I always told my mother I loved her, before she went and grabbed my special towel. I didn’t say it this time, I was too wrapped up in having to say goodbye to her forever. My heart aches from the knowledge that I’ll never get to tell her I love her again. Suddenly I’m crying and my handsome stranger is there, helping me out of the bath tub, wrapping me in a warm towel.
                “Shhh it’s okay Summer. I’m here okay? I’m here.” He comforts me. I knew it was stupid messing with the past, but somehow with my handsome stranger holding me, It doesn’t feel like it was a mistake. It almost feels like it’s meant to have happened. That’s when I look down and see I’m wrapped up in a lime green towel with little frogs on it. 

Timewave

Leslie jumped from the table, a mouse scuttling past her legs as she made the drastic dive. Her head hitting the edge of the blue cupboard and knocking her unconscious. The television blared in the background about the first black president of the United States being elected.

Waking up a few hours later, at least to Leslie's perception, she found herself with a massive headache and in a cold and dark meadow. Looking around, she wondered if someone had thought she were dead, and decided to just dump her body somewhere instead of calling the cops. Rubbing her head and getting to her feet, she made her way through the woods, hoping to find a hiking trail, a bike path, or even a road that would take her back to civilization.

After almost two hours, Leslie started to panic. What if there was no road for more miles than she could walk? What if she had been going in the wrong direction? Should she have waited for daybreak? Shaking her head, she knew that freaking out would do her absolutely no good, and she sat down on a nearby boulder. And that's when she heard the shuffling footsteps coming from the direction she had been coming from.

originally she had thought that it had been the wind, or her own fears lurking in the back of her mind coming out to hound her at the worst possible time. But as she slowly turned her head towards the sound, she realized that her prayers might be answered. A warm and hazy light was permeating through the darkness of the entangled tree limbs that she had been fighting tooth and nail to get through. Standing, she called out, a nervous and hopeful smile splayed across her lips as she did so.

The smile dissolved, however, when she saw a lithe and muscular man step through the trees, wearing a loincloth. Fumbled words passed her lips as grunts passed his. Stepping away, she bumped into another man who had stepped up from behind her as silently as a spider climbs its way onto a hand. Turning abruptly to face him, she found a club hitting her head and an enveloping blackness welcoming her back.

The next time Leslie awoke, she was in a barn. Hay stuck to her hair and clothes as if she were a human scarecrow. Climbing out, she made her way out of the hay and the barn, slowly, remembering the men from the woods. Finding a farmhouse outside, she instantly recognized it as her great-great-grandparents farm. Meaning the the barn she had woken up in was the house her parents had remodeled before she was born after the farmhouse had been eaten by termites. Leslie only recognized the house from pictures, and as she continued to stare in disbelief, she saw her ancestors come out of the house and head towards the barn. their hands together and a bucket of something in each hand, she felt light-hearted to see the couple so happy.

And then she realized that she had possibly gone insane, or somehow traveled through time. Either way, the last time she had interacted with someone, it had ended with her getting knocked unconscious. Stepping backwards and attempting to turn and run, she tripped over herself and hit her head against a wooden fence that kept the pigs in during the winter.

Hearing sirens, Leslie awoke and felt her eyes water from the bright light in the ambulance. She didn't move or speak, afraid that if she tried to do anything, she would be sent hurtling through time to just get knocked out over and over again through all of eternity. The ambulance driver asked the other EMT if they were going to vote for Barack Obama the next day. The EMT shrugged and said it would be interesting to be a part of history. The first black president of the United States of America was a pretty big part of history, according to him.