Tuesday, 26 August 2014

The White Rabbit.

Good evening!

As stated earlier, I feel like Alice's rabbit lately.  I keep scrambling around trying to keep up with everything, but trying to do so has become its own horror story.  At any rate, I'm going to get right to it, as I AM in fact, still late!

Our winner is Antonia Woodville with Infinity 67:  This is probably one of my favorite chapters in this serial.  I love the dark tone of the Captains thoughts.  I also love that he cleaned his own cabin.  For some reason, even though the reasons were wholly valid, it made me chuckle anyway.  Thank you!

The Tome has obliged with some new words, without too much fussing.


The usual rules apply: 100 words maximum (excluding title) of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above in the genres of horror, fantasy, science fiction or noir. Serialized fiction is, as always, welcome. All variants and use of the words and stems are fine. You have until 11 p.m. (U.S. Eastern time) Friday, August 29th.  I know that doesn't give us much time, but I'm really trying to see if I can get admin back on track for all of you. Thanks so much!

The Gates Are Open!.


  1. thank you!!!! the Captain is honoured that he was chosen. Good words, let's get at them...

  2. Very well-deserved Antonia - a excellent episode, one of many such.

    A change of focus [99]

    ‘Pettinger’ he knew was Anglo Saxon, from ‘potager’ meaning seller of soup. His mother had researched it. Got excited by a marriage in the Fleet prison, but he’d been bored to tears.
    ‘They’re all dead!’
    As, presumably, was the one beneath this stone. She’d missed a trick there.
    ‘What d’you think, boss?’
    Oh – the evidence bag. A lower mandible, several teeth, all filed to pointed.
    ‘That’s what...?’
    ‘What bit me, yeah.’
    ‘And now you’re looking for?’
    ‘The lump of flesh that was impaled on the teeth before she dropped it in.
    ‘Ah, that explains the blood.’
    ‘Some of it’s mine!’

    1. thanks for good wishes!
      This is another class episode in the ongoing story... a gory ending... ,looking for more!

    2. There is something creepy about filed teeth, seen it in the odd horror film, and an X-Files, maybe? I like his outrage in the final line. =)

  3. Well done Antonia!


    ‘Hey, hush your tears,’ he said, cupping her face with a fatherly touch.

    The car wipers swept back and forth; rhythmic, soporific, cleansing the windscreen of rain spatter. The sound drummed against the car roof.

    He gazed at the young girl, couldn’t tell where the rainwater stopped and the tears began. ‘Poor thing, you look cold to the core.’

    A fleeting flash sparked in the distance.

    She wiped rain from her skin, nodded. ‘I missed my bus. The last one.’

    He adjusted the heater. ‘Soon get you warm.’ He smiled, sickly. Intent. ‘Good job I came along when I did…’

    1. oh yes, Riders on the storm come back to haunt us... nice one, AJ! subtle and haunting and horrific all at the same time.

    2. 'Sickly' sets it up, but that one word, 'intent,' nails it home in a single blow. No twists here, just straight up human horror.

  4. Lesson part-learned

    The women become widows by his hand feared him as I, who’d seen his fleet tenderness, could never do. Yet it took more courage than I knew I possessed to tell him if he even thought to have one of them I’d hack off his balls.
    Anticipating anger, I’d been surprised to see tears, then realised they were of laughter.
    I struck at his face. He deflected the blow, tight-grasping my wrist. Mood changing, ‘Were you in sight of others I’d have to kill you for that.’
    Had I blinked I’d’ve missed seeing fury reluctantly replaced by approval. Of me.

    1. it's that killer last line bit you do so well, as we all keep saying. This is excellent.

    2. A subtle near-missed ripple indicating a change of tide, perhaps?

  5. Congratulations, Antonia. =)

    (cosmic discord) #18

    Doc’s console pinged, insistently, once a second. Restrained, yet urgent.

    Sentiment echoed by Harriet. “Talk to me, Doc.”

    My own console started pulling combat telemetry from a new source. Somewhere other than the three assault ships on our tail or the distant capital ship that had launched them, the Dismal Outlook. Somewhere in front of us.

    Doc looked up, fearful, “Downspace rupture in-system.”

    Harriet voiced the conclusion I found myself rapidly arriving at.

    “It’s a trap.”

    The assault ships were missing us on purpose, driving us.

    From the star’s gravity well, a second capital ship tore upwards into real space.

    1. Thanks, John! It's been fun writing with the captain. He is one serious character to know.

      This is good, cliff hanger ending, brought about naturally, nothing contrived. Like it.

    2. So very human your protagonists, and all too believable, as is the ramping up of tension.

  6. I had no internet access last night, it was the oddest feeling, writing without being able to reference anything, check anything, connect with friends for a few moments, check the writing site I visit regularly (and where I just won first place in the non fiction contest, following the theme Crisis. I sent a factual story of the real Antony Woodville and his rapid transition from tutor and escort to Edward V through capture by Richard of Gloucester, imprisonment in Sheriff Hutton until his execution at Pontefract whilst Edward V was 'deposed' and Richard III came to the throne. I thought that was a sufficiently good crisis, the change of succession of the crown. Tis pleasing, so it is, to win. But, did it mean as much as coming first here last week? Tis a moot point but no, it didn't, this is the real challenge, up against such fine writing as I am.
    Anyway, the Captain came and this is the latest instalment of Infinity.

    Infinity 68.
    The Devil boiled up a fair storm, so he did; perhaps he didn’t like my commending myself and my prisoner into the Lord’s hands. It be his misfortune, not mine. For all that, the storm missed us by a few sea miles; there are tears in the sails but no damage to the rigging. Fleet footed sailors climbed up with needles and strong thread and the tears be no more. I watched with admiration, tis a long way back in the past since I could climb anything, let alone the rigging. I be a tad heavy these days…

    1. Back to sanguine practicality; observation of what cannot be denied.

      And really well done Antonia on the Crisis competition; I recently read Emma Darwin's book of the same period and loved it immensely, despite her supporting the wrong side.

    2. I love the way the captain always remains so grounded and real, heavy in character as much as anything else, despite being so swept up in the supernatural.

  7. Honeymoon’s Over

    “Aw, you missed me.”

    Kuk tried to track my voice.

    Fleet, silent, I shimmied up a tree.

    “Not funny, Amy, disappearing like that,” he snarled, frustrated he couldn’t sense me.

    “I know my family’s difficult, but Ma’ was almost in tears when you refused to show.”

    I launched, bore him to the ground. “You might have mentioned you’re Maat’s son. How about you tell her we didn’t act with undue haste in marrying. See what weight she gives that.

    Watching a minor god pale is oddly discomfiting.

    Ire waned with kisses, love ascendant, we went together to hear his fate.

    1. This leaves me so intrigued. The weight of bigger stories wrapping around each other, this is a fascinating tangle.

    2. Sounds so much like a brief excerpt from something far, far bigger. Tantalising.