Thanks For The Tag @the-archivist-14

Attack of the dead men 

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Note: Given the prompt, it didn’t feel right spin things into a story completely of my own, so I decided instead to summarize a story that has firmly embedded itself into the back of my mind. I became aware of this story because someone showed me the song ‘Attack of the Dead Men’ by SABATON. While gruesome in nature, it presented me with pestering question of how people can drive themselves past impossible limitations while unprepared in the face of death. 

Warnings!!!: Discussion of warfare including the deployment and descriptive effects of weaponized Chlorine/Bromine Gas. 

Chlorine and bromine. While still dangerous, these chemicals have proven to be significanly useful tools for disinfection among other things. The result of their combination in a gasious form though? A toxic cloud that can devistate both humans and the environment, corroding tools and nature with almost instantanous effect.  What then of the human body? How might it react with living cells?

 For the 800 men guarding the Osowiec Fortress in 1915 without the protection of gas masks, those effects were almost completely fatal. Of the entire garrison only 100 soldiers survived due to their distance from the gas batteries. As the gas gradually dissipated and reinforcements arrived, the burned and dying survivors crawled up from their trenches like the living dead to attack the charging enemy. While coughing up their own lungs even as their organs were slowly being desolved by the resulting hydrochloric acid formed from the moister in their lungs and the chlorine gas, they stumbled towards the attackers without hesitation. The sight of their horrific forms was enough to cause bedlam in their enemies ranks, and paired with a concentrated artillery strike form the reinforcements, the soldiers were able to temporarily secure the garrison in the face of overwhelming odds. The victory was short lived however as the reinforcements were later forced to retreat from the garrison at a later date. It is a haunting story from a haunting time that can leave one to ponder the limits that the human will can force a broken body to ignore. 

Talk to Me.

Thanks for the Prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Warning: slight horror

*Knock* 

“Steven? Are you okay, buddy?” 

Silence hung in the dim hall as Steven hid under his bed, blanket pulled up around him. 

“*Sigh* I know it’s different now sweety, but we’ll make it though this, alright?”

Clamping one of his hands over his mouth, Steven tried to stay as quiet as possible as the old floorboards outside creaked in protest. 

“I know you missed dinner. Do you at least want some ice cream?” 

The sweet voice ever so slightly as frustration crept into the smooth tone. He tried to time his breaths to match the voice, but it wouldn’t work forever. Looking down at the teddy bear alarm clock nearby he watched the seconds tick by slowly (3:59:25) The door began to groan under a sudden force and Steven could hear the frame starting to crack. 

“I Think you’ve dragged this on for long enough young man, I didn’t want to do this, but you can’t just shut me out.” The honey was gone now, replaced by a hard tone that sent chills down his spine.  

“It’s so lonely out here Steven, but I’m sure you’ll liven the place right up” Pulling his alarm clock close to his chest, Steven closed his eyes as tightly as he could counting down the seconds in his mind as the door finally gave way. 

-10 Mississippi, 9 Mississippi, 8 Mississippi-

He could feel it looming nearby, but if he didn’t know that it was there then it couldn’t hurt him.

“Oh don’t be like that Steven, I only want to talk, don’t you love me anymore?”

He lost count, his tear stained eyes finally opening wide, to gaze in frozen horror at the twisted thing that had snuck into his room again.

“Thats it Steven, come to mama.” It smiled wickedly as it reached towards him, long spindly fingers twitching erratically as it tried to grab him. Then a beeping began to sound in his arms, and the things face twisted in disgust as the world melted to black. 

Opening his eyes, Steven looked out at the cloudy sky, gripping his alarm close to his chest, he’d survived another night, only had three left to go.

Short Story: Green

The end of the world happened slowly; as most things do. The plants began to disappear—one by one becoming extinct—too gradually for the general public to take seriously. When they did notice, humanity shrugged it off as the natural cycle of things.

And then it was the animals. That was harder to ignore.

It was the pollinators first, of course. Without their help, much of the flora could not proliferate as they once had. The lack of sunlight, of fertile soil, of bees or butterflies or hummingbirds were the beginnings of the end. Grassy meadows became barren deserts and lush forests became wasteland littered with twigs and branches—the corpses of once-mighty trees. Green became a lost color.

There weren’t many humans left when Zoe found hope and began her journey. The last human interaction she had was years ago to a man dying of smoke sickness; a common story for the few still alive. The ever-smoking towers brought industry, jobs, prosperity for a while…before they brought illness and death.

Over time, the smog and ash the towers spewed blocked out the sun, displaced the air, and changed the color of the world. Those who inhaled too much of the toxic fumes died slow deaths. Many grew up breathing it, assured by charismatic politicians that it was not harmful. They didn’t want to see past the lies; humans were an optimistic species after all.

Zoe walked past one of the many ever-smoking towers—still spewing death into the air—and took a moment to gaze at the darkened sky. She wondered what the sun might have looked like; what it still might look like hiding behind that veil of black and gray. There were stories, of course, but she liked to imagine that the sun was green.

With one hand, she adjusted the breather that sat over her nose and mouth, clutching a small egg-shaped container in the other before continuing her stroll, stopping at at a flickering metal box that matched her in height. An oxygen vending machine.

She had stopped by every O vendor she had come across in her years-long journey. Air was something she could not afford to let run low. Her expedition was a long one and she didn’t even have a notion of when it would end. It was better to refill her breather as often as possible before there would be nothing left; when soon—she assumed—there would be a large stretch where there would be no more O vendors to provide breathable air. She didn’t know when or where, but she knew it was inevitable. There were only so many O vendors that could have been put up before the smoke sickness claimed too many lives to justify the expense and many were already running low on supply.

She inserted a plastic card into the machine and fresh air was pumped into her mask. She breathed it in appreciatively, taking in the slight chemical smell of the original container and wondered what air from plants smelled like as she crossed empty streets and passed more ever-smoking towers.

Her destination was far but she was almost there; or so she hoped. Just a little farther, she kept telling herself, repeating it every so often. Her personal mantra.

She held the little container close to her, afraid that she might lose it; that it might slip and tumble down somewhere she could never hope to reach; that it might wither before she got to the one place in the world the sun was said to touch. The Sunpatch she had been seeking since she had found the egg-shaped thing—her hope—that she carried with her.

She had walked for so long with no direction save for the little information she had managed to gather after so much research on the Sunpatch. Much of it were rumors that lead to dead ends, others were educated guesses when information was obviously incomplete. She hoped to the hidden sun that the one she followed now wasn’t another dead end. It was her last lead and she was so old and so tired.

Her elderly legs hurt and her feet were numb from so much walking but she soldiered on as always. Zoe was determined to get the little egg-shaped thing to the Sunpatch no matter the cost to herself.

Her journey was a lonely one; solitary but never by choice. Often she wished that she could have company; another of her kind. The egg was a good listener but not much for conversation. Had the world not ended, her conversations with egg would be seen as madness but there was no one now to judge her.

For years, she trudged through desert and dead forests and broken cities and rock fields. She searched every used-to-be settlement for survivors—but always found no one—and stopped by every defunct food store to stock up on liquid snack cakes, bottled water, and portable air cans. On rare occasions, she even found running water in the long-abandoned cities. In those, she had the luxury of a quick bath and change of clothes. This wasn’t one of those cities.

She chose a building that looked to be in good shape and tried the door. Locked. A quick glance around found her some rubble; pulled up concrete from a sidewalk.

The aging woman lifted the heavy fragment and hurled it at the window, shattering the glass in an explosive cacophony of clinking, clanging, and crashing. No one will care about a broken window. No one is here to care.

She swiped the opening with a balled up rag, sweeping away bits of broken glass before carefully climbing in; agile despite her age.

The space was lined with mostly-empty shelves that made little paths. Zoe noted these as she passed the counter with an old register caked with dust sitting on top of it. It must have been a corner store once.

She searched and found a few bottles of liquid snack cakes and water. No canned air, unfortunately. Whomever owned the business—or perhaps survivors that had fled the city in search of better homes away from the towers—had taken most of the supplies before they had gone.

Opening and attaching one of the little bottles of liquid snack to her breather via a short, thick straw, she sucked on the meal, reading the text on the bottle. She had read them a million times but the mind needed something to keep from going mad and with the world so empty there weren’t many options. “Now with 50% less fat and 100% more calories!” it claimed. What a load of ash.

Zoe rested well that night before awaking to bottles and cans strewn about the former shop. Wakefulness came slowly and she didn’t notice the peculiarity of the out-of-place things at first. It was after a few blinks that it registered. “No! No no no! Where is it?!”

Her heart skipped a beat and she went into a frenzy looking for the little egg-shaped container; missing from the rotten pillow where she had left it before falling into an exhausted slumber. She dug through her rucksack, searched every nook, every cranny, and under every store shelf, but found nothing but rubbish.

The floor was sticky from spilled snack cakes, their bottles chewed by the incisors of a small creature. She had no guesses as to what it could have been but it had left a trail of liquid-snack footprints to follow and so she got to tracking the thief.

The tracks lead her to the store’s backroom; dark without electricity to light the way. She squinted, backing up a bit to where there was light enough to see as she rummaged through her pack and pulled out a small metal flashlight. She shook it a few times, and then flicked the switch on its side. The beam of light flickered before holding steady.

She ventured into the dark room, sweeping the light beam from side to side in an effort to continue tracking the creature that pilfered her hope. The backroom was in worse wear than the store’s front. A thick blanket of dust and cobwebs covered just about every surface that wasn’t disturbed by a certain little thief. Zoe found the footprints again etched into the dust and followed them, taking care not to step on any of the impressions.

They lead her to stairs going down to a basement darker than the backroom. She gave her flashlight another shake before venturing the stairs—step by cautious step—holding the railing as she moved down. The old wood creaked under her weight and she feared that she would fall through, break her neck, and die in a dusty dark basement under an abandoned store in a long-forgotten city. For much too long, she tested every stair before proceeding.

Her feet found purchase on solid concrete ground fifteen minutes later. She swept light over the new room slowly, almost missing the bundled fur in the corner. There it is!

The rat turned when the light touched its black fur and hissed. Behind it was the egg-shaped container that Zoe had been looking for; a bit scratched up but otherwise fine.

She crouched down on creaky knees and attempted to reason with the animal, “Come on now, I need that.”

The rodent responded with another hiss, back fur prickling up.

Slowly as to not make any sudden movement, she retrieved a bottle of liquid snack cake from her bag. “How about a trade then?” She twisted the lid open.

The rodent watched her intently, the over-sweet smell of liquid cake entering its nostrils and masking every other scent in its tantalizing aroma. It wiggled its nose in satisfaction as it began to salivate.

“You like that don’t you?” Zoe cooed, removing the lid completely. She poured a small amount of the contents onto the floor in front of her, “Come on. I know you want it.”

The rat hesitated before cautiously approaching.

She poured more liquified food onto the floor, pooling it up for the little scoundrel.

Temptation and instinct overwhelmed the rodent and it scurried to the food. It lapped up the thick batter; greedy from hunger.

The human added to its meal, pouring a bit more for it before righting herself and walking around the rat to the egg. She bent down and retrieved her hope up off of the floor, giving it a quick inspection under her flashlight when she was standing again. “Well, you didn’t damage it too much…” she said to the hungry rodent, “I’ve got to go now, little rascal. Enjoy your meal.”

She carefully made her way around the sticky mess and the rat to the foot of the stairs and frowned at it, annoyed at having to climb back up. Fear began to well up in her at the thought of falling and so she took a moment to breathe, steeling her nerves for the ascent. I made it down all right; I can make it up again…

The rat squeaked then, interrupting an otherwise still scene. She turned her light on it as it ran in a circle once, twice, and then scurried to the shadows of the back wall. “Where are you going?”

The rat squeaked again as Zoe realized a bit late that this rodent is the first sign of life she had found in her travels in years. She had been too focused on retrieving her stolen hope that she had nearly missed the fact that this creature survived the smoke-sickness that was choking the life of nearly every living thing…and it wasn’t wearing a breather. Here?! No…we’re too close to towers…but it has to breathe somehow…

She touched the latch of her breather, tempted to remove it to see if perhaps the air was breathable here, but she thought better of it. If I die here, it’s over for real. There will be no hope left…Some animals had adapted to breathe less air and this rat was probably one of them. She couldn’t be fooled by it.

Instead, she followed the rat deeper into the dark; hand outstretched, shaking the flashlight every once in a while as if it would keep the battery going.

It wasn’t long before the rat lead her to a hole in the wall just big enough for Zoe to crawl into. The old woman sighed and considered turning around. The rat squeaked impatiently at her before scampering into the tunnel.

Against better judgement, she latched the flashlight to the shoulder strap of her pack, slipped the egg into one of its more secured pockets, and got on her hands and knees.

She crawled through the tunnel, surprised that it didn’t narrow or end so abruptly. Someone must’ve dug this before they left the city. Stinging pain throbbed in her old knees as she continued shuffling forward, following a used-to-be common pest through a tunnel under a convenience store.

The passage was longer than Zoe had ever expected an improvised excavation could be. She had to stop and take breaks, maneuvering herself into a more comfortable laying position every so often to rest. It lead deep into the earth before steadily slanting upwards; so gradual that Zoe hadn’t noticed until light shone through ahead of her.

Eager to escape the cramped walls, she quickened her crawl toward the light. She didn’t know how long she had been shuffling in the subterranean tunnel but she guessed from her backaches and bruised knees that it must have been a while.

She pulled herself from the hole, moving dirt and small rocks as she surfaced. The light was blinding after some time in underground darkness and her chest was starting to feel tight. She had enough air for at least another day! Surely she hadn’t been traversing underground for that long! But she was gasping for air, struggling to fill her lungs. Her breather was running low.

Panic starting to intrude on her psyche, Zoe desperately scanned her surroundings. Massive dirt and rock walls bordered her from the outside world. Stalactites hung from the earthen ceiling above, drops of water falling from their tips in rhythmic succession. She found herself in a vast cavern of sunken earth; nowhere near an O vendor.

All of this for nothing…because of my foolishness…because I followed a rat of all things!

As if in response to her distress, a whistling gust of wind—gray particles dancing within it—embraced Zoe in its cooling hug before racing up toward an opening in the ceiling, blowing out of it like a volcano and parting the endless gray-black clouds of the ever-smoking towers. It was from that opening that a beam of yellow light pointed to a single circular patch of yellow-green before dissipating a moment later.

Zoe’s eyes widened at the sight; brief but certain. She had been searching for so long and here it was; hidden under a city, under ever-smoking towers that blocked from view the few moments of sun that managed to touch earth periodically when upward wind broke black clouds. She stifled tears as she approached the Sunpatch.

Reverently, she held the egg-shaped container in both hands, dropping to her knees before the little patch of life. With shaking hands and burning lungs, she set the egg aside and began to dig, clawing the earth with bony fingers until she was satisfied with the divot she had made.

Dizziness was setting in as she lifted the egg and popped it in twain above the little hole, dropping a singular ball—smaller than her fist—into the exposed earth. The tightness in her chest was nearly unbearable by the time she buried the seed.

Her life’s mission finally complete, she smiled with satisfaction; with all the love and hope she could possibly give to the world. As the wind returned, quickly flying toward the opening in the ceiling, she laid her tired body down and faced the beam of sun as it came in for another few precious moments. Her air had run out and the world was closing in around her; replaced by an overwhelming serenity. The tension left her body, smile softening but never vanishing as she stared at the mound she had created and the brilliant streak of dusty yellow light that caressed it.

The sun wasn’t green but it was beautiful.

Originally published on renalawhead.com on July 22, 2024

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Waiting for Reinforcements

Thank you for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Walking across the dark field towards the barricade, Silus couldn't help but feel a bit melancholy despite the fact that Null had already been passed on to a more fitting vessel. He should have been pleased to rid himself of the burden, but it only felt like his shoulders had started to get even heavier them before.

Rose said it was nerves, and while he knew it wasn't helping things, this was different from the nerves that he'd grown accustomed to.

"Still brooding?" Silus jumped slightly as he noticed her waiting in the shadows with a bottle quietly extended toward him. He accepted it easily for a sip and quickly returned it before the drink could draw him in fully.

"Any word?" She shook her head with a sour expression as she finished off the last several drops of bottle before smashing the glass against the ground.

"No,if we can hold out another day though..." her voice trailed off, unconvincing even to herself it seemed, but he appreciated her attempts. Worrying wouldn't get them anywhere, especially with the mess they had to clean up tomorrow.

"I'm sure they're on their way." He tried to force a smile, but the corners of his mouth felt strangely heavy. He hoped for all of their sakes that they were on the way, because if anything happened to Nulls' new vessel... His newfound freedom would be quite short-lived.

( I'm very tired today, so I just got a rough sketch done)

Thanks for the prompt @davycoquette !

I kinda already posted the Owen one before, but I drew a picture of Maren (with a new head) and liked how it looked when I combined them.

If anyone else wants to try the prompt, then have a go!

The fluff hair is fun to draw. I think I like purple for his eyes. He keeps his hair up when he has work and lets it down whenever he gets a breather.

@flashfictionfridayofficial

100th Anniversary

We return to Luis and Jade to take a peek at an important milestone in their relationship.

Story Warning: Mentions of forced mutation, violence, and a bit of self-deprication.

When the Blood Crystal was first embedded in his heart, Luis had been filled with so many emotions that it had paralyzed him. At some point during his transformation, many of those feelings had withered into husks. The only one that he was able to maintain past the pain was an all-consuming anger. Without anything to hold him back, like all of the first Bloodmages around him, Luis channeled that anger into power, destroying anything that stood in his way.

His anger burned the brightest of them all. It burned through his entire being, leaving nothing but a monster driven by destruction.

Humming absently, Luis ran his hands through Jade's hair in a calming motion while glancing down at the strange little clock she had offered to him earlier. She had gotten the idea because of some silly little comment he had made after she pulled him back from an attack, and as embarrassing as that had been, he enjoyed the gifts.

As he was considering when to give her his gift, Jade suddenly pulled away from him, and Luis quickly untangled his fingers from her hair.

“I have something extra special for you dear.”

"Love, you already gave me a gift."

Taking a moment to reach out and gently grip Jade's hand, Luis smiled reassuringly at her. It was a big day for both of them, but her sudden outburst took him a bit by surprise.

"No, this gift is a special gift. You get too lonely while I am away, and I wish to hunt without worry."

As straightforward as ever, she would worry about a monster like him getting lonely. Jade produced a small box from somewhere in her hair and presented it to Luis with a beam of pride.

He could feel her energy pulsing from the object even through the box. Gently prying the box open revealed a set of green earrings that filled his mind with the forest as he touched them. A small chuckle escaped him as he felt the box in his own pocket grow heavy, to think she would have the same idea on their 100th anniversary.

“What am I to do with you Love?”

Nuzzling his chin affectionately, she picked up the stones and carefully put them into his ears with too much care for a creature of her power. Once she was sure they were in place, Jade pulled back beaming with excitement. Luis froze as he took in the energy. This was a part of her. They were connected in so many ways, but this one was different. He could feel her heart beating softly if he focused on the earrings.

A burst of emotion boiled over in his chest, and he leaned over, kissing her on the cheek. Now was as good a time as any to give his gift, so Luis stood to his feet and carefully presented his own gift with a sheepish grin. Despite being late to present his gift, Jade’s ears twitched with interest as he opened the box revealing a pair of blood red crystals he had spent months crafting so that they would be just right for her.

“Dear, you could have hurt yourself again!”

She held him close for a moment before pulling away to inspect him carefully. After inspecting him for any signs of injury, Jade seemed satisfied that he was okay and leaned down, letting him put the earrings in. Standing still for a moment, Jade suddenly began to purr with excitement as she felt his heartbeat.

“I will delay my hunt for the time being.”

Cooing affectionately, Jade settled back onto the couch, pulling Luis into her embrace.

She had given him hope, and Luis was finally looking forward to living out his extended life. The pain of his past was long gone now, just a fluttering memory that held little significance. Even if he had bad days, Luis had what none of his kind should have been granted, hope. Today was another gift that he didn’t deserve, but he couldn’t help but be greedy when it came to his Love.

Crumbling

@flashfictionfridayofficial

This story is a little portion of a side story for Bloodmage that I've recently started working on.

Warning: The picture at the end depicts blood and injury.

The door was already wide open when Aariv arrived. At one time he would have found that to be strange, but in this day and age who thought to close doors properly anymore? Whatever the case he didn’t have time to be picky right now, he needed to stow himself somewhere until the danger had passed. There was no way he was going to be found out after running for so long.

Stepping into the unfamiliar place, a frown creased his brow, there was no sign that this place had belonged to someone, no individuality. Crumbling walls stared back at him, almost in a reflection of whatever counted as his soul these days. The uncanny feeling sent shivers down his spine as he carefully pulled the door to. There was always the chance it was another trap so Aariv left himself an escape route open, and tried to keep his mind as sharp as his exhaustion would allow.

Room after room he was met with a growing sense of anxiety, no place should be this dilapidated and soulsess, not if there was someone living there. It wasn’t until he reached the last room along his path that Aariv felt his fear melt into oblivion. A fireplace sat in the center of the room, a half burnt log resting behind the grating.

Stepping forward, Aariv felt heat radiating from the empty hearth, a smile slowly spreading over his cold face. It seemed that his luck had for once pulled through and he’d chosen a favorable vessel. With the man’s soul absent he could easily inhabit without much worry. There was no possession quite so simple as when a creature had lost their spark.

“Dr. Field! You need to get back to work, Dr. Are you listening?”

Flexing his fingers, Aariv attempted to adjust to the situation. A nurse stood over him with poorly concealed irritation evident on her face. Smiling, Aariv stood and nodded his acknowledgment, which seemed to somewhat placate her. Once she scurried out of the unfamiliar room, Aariv took some time to assess his new body. He could handle being a Doctor, it was his specialty, after all. Still, a small frown tugged at the corner of his lips as Aariv looked into a nearby mirror, brushing back his disheveled hair while taking note of the obvious signs of exhaustion. No wonder the man’s body had been abandoned. He was falling apart inside and out.

Rose, after being cursed long ago, came to adapt to her unfortunate circumstances. While once completely wild, she has come to appreciate the finner things in life, mainly deserts.

I personally prefer her sketch design most, but the inked is a close second.

Writing share tag 

Thanks for the Tag @wyked-ao3 ! I haven't gotten to the stage of editing yet, but here's a little something that I was able to get written a couple of weeks ago.

Blood Mage: council meeting 

No one enjoyed these meetings, but unless the fairies or vampires picked a fight with Luis there was usually no cause for concern. At a subtle gesture towards Marie’s seat, Susian’s face went pale. The witches were fairly peaceful these days, why would they go and pick a fight with Luis of all people?

As Susan decided the best way to word such a question to the already dozing representative, she was interrupted by a loud boom accompanied by an explosion of plaster and metal crashing down from the ceiling above. 

“What is the meaning of this?”

A cry came from the indigent Fairy King now covered in a layer of dust and red crystal fragments, his ever-faithful guard having taken the brunt of the explosion’s force shielding him. 

“Shut up bug. I have no time to prattle with insects.”

Susan and the others froze at the vitriol in Luis’ tone, sure he never got along with the king, but that voice wasn’t one that he used on anyone unless he had a mind to end them. The eyes of everyone drifted to the enraged bloodmage now standing several feet from the table, carefully trying to gauge how to react. Red lines covered his skin, pulsing with an unnatural glow, threatening to split him at the seams if he let himself slip even minutely. Her mouth went dry as Susian realized he had entered a frenzied state, and even the Fairy King made no move to speak now.

“I came to inform the council of my formal intent to eradicate the Witches.”

His words felt like a hot iron being slammed into Susan’s gut. Her predecessors and colleagues had long wondered what to do if such an eventuality came to be, but to hear it now drove her mind to despair. What had they done to offend him to this degree? Why in their right minds would the witches have picked such a foolish fight? Now everyone would be dragged into this insanity, and more than anything that meant she wouldn’t be getting her time off again, no one in the Order would. 

No pressure Tags: @renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @laisley-writes @leahnardo-da-veggie ,

@creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony +Open tag