A little challenge I’m imposing on myself this month, somewhat inspired by NaNoWriMo,
Every day I’m going to try and write 1700-2000 words with the focus being a different character!
Wanna see every day? Check this tag Here!
This one turned out short- it’s only about 500 words- But i felt like i needed to post something since i missed the 4th day…
Weather it was day or night Quinn didn’t know or care. His base- a defunct Grem Corps. exploration sub- hummed with life and machinery. It was spacious and surprisingly dry, considering it was well beneath the water. its interior was cast in a glow from hundreds of screens each broadcasting a different image, some flickering between various feeds. Quinn hummed as he rolled back in his chair, tail flicking with pent up energy. Around him several hovering robots, each baring his visage darted around, tiny mechanical arms tinkering with gadgets or cleaning, or in the case of one, playing on a small handheld as several others floated around it, chirping and whirring in excitement.
Typically, Quinn would have been yelling at the Quinnbots to get back to work, but today he was anxious. The Quinnbot he had sent out several days ago was finally making its return. A precious cargo held safely in its chasse. When the meteor had first landed he sent the little bot out to collect radiographic scans, survey, and if it could collect a sample. Quinn had not expected, Grem Corps. - Being the pest they were- to enlist half the damn city to help. The only advantage was seeing first hand some of the effects of the crystals, which only made Quinn want it more. He sighed leaning back, eyes lazily drifting over screens, some of them feeds from Quinnbots he had sent all over the world. Others progress screens and scanners from his last couple experiments with some particularly interesting bio-metal he had acquired.
The sound of decompressing doors made him sit up and turn, grinning from ear to ear as a single Quinnbot stuttered into the room. Something, he thought, was seriously wrong with it. It finally crashed to the ground and rolled the last few feet to his chair, its screen flickering and a pathetic whine coming from it. Quinn frowned backing away, The Quinnbot attempting to right itself to follow failing as the metal that made its body warped violently. He watched the little droid struggle, the radiation from the crystal clearly causing the biological components of the metals to mutate.
Interesting…
It took a moment for the little droid to finally stop its trashing, the form slowly turning mottled and gray before finally disintegrating with a final pathetic whine. He sighed looking over the rotted husk, the underlying skeleton of a cybunny, a pile of rust, and a single chunk of crystal all that remained. He backed away again.
“Q2B9. Collect the crystal please. Put it in the fission tanks for now.”
The droid hesitated, looking down at its fallen companion and gave an irate little whirr the glowing eyes sitting on its face turning into a little animated glare.
“Oh don’t whine, He had that crystal for about 5 days, you’re only going to have it for 5 minutes.”
Q2B9 clearly was not convinced, a noise sounding rather similar to blown raspberry coming from the little droid before it finally picked it up, putting off seemingly in a rather big hurry.
A little challenge I’m imposing on myself this month, somewhat inspired by NaNoWriMo,
Every day I’m going to try and write 1700-2000 words with the focus being a different character!
Wanna see everyday? Check this tag Here!
Rain fell in heavy drops, making the roads muddy and the already miserable ride unbearable with a troop of complaining men, the stink of damp horse, and whatever other unpleasantness was on the dirt road even worse. It wasn’t even supposed to rain that day, at least not from what anyone could tell. For the past several months the entire area had been deep in a drought, and no one had seen any chance of it stopping soon. Let alone the damn monsoon that seemed to have opened on top of them. At first, the rain was nice, water canteens were filled and the freedom from the heat was welcomed but now the seventh hour into the storm, even Mason was growing tired of it.
It wasn’t that Mason and his posse weren’t unaccustomed to bad weather- witch hunting was a mobile job after all. You had to be willing to travel to where the bastards were if you wanted to make the money that was promised from it. Considering what they got payed, a little harsh weather was a minor thing. Didn’t make dealing with it anymore pleasant.
They were supposed to be headed to a job now, a small town plagued by a witch killing the farm animals. He squinted into the darkness feeling slightly uncomfortable, the harsh weather had him turned around, something itching at the back of his mind. Ahead, lights broke thought he deep haze, behind him, Jeffers, who clearly saw it too kicked his horse into a full gallop whopping as he passed. Mason laughed kicking his own horse into a spirited trot as the rest of his men charged ahead themselves.
A single inn sat on the side of the road, it was small but even with the rain the smell of food clung heavily to the air. Glad to be away from the rain he was soon to follow the rest of his men. The sign above the place swung in the winds, its wood cut words having long since faded away. He gave a sigh of relief as he entered, the warm and dry a welcome change. Most of his men had already made themselves at home.
“I’m assumin’ you’re the one in charge of all these kids?”
Mason turned, a young woman smiling at him, stepping around a large puddle on the floor. She was young looking. Maybe twenty at most, brown haired, brown eyed, pale skinned, and oddly familiar.
“Unfortunately, Sorry about them. Excited to be out of the rain.” His tone apologetic. “Comin’ down like a typhoon out there. Do ya’ got enough rooms for us?”
She smiled at him, it was a kind look, surprisingly patient considering the late hour and the raucous group that had just charged, wet booted and excited into her establishment.
“I’m sure we do. Not many travelers comin’ out this way. I’ll have my brother get your horses put away.” She laughed, turning to grab keys from behind the counter. “And I can get some food ready for ya if you’d like. I’m sure y’all are hungry!”
At her words the men whooped and cheered and Mason, finally found himself a seat to take in the place. It was just as comfortable on the outside as it was in, a fire roared in the hearth blanketing the entire place in a warm glow. The tables and chairs and just about everything else was worn but clean, the wood in the place rich and dark.
Mason forced himself relax, it was the first time in a while he had the chance to enjoy real food and real ale, all of which rather quickly found its way to tables and the empty stomachs that awaited them. No point on being on edge. It quieted some when the food arrived, the men content to fill their bellies. The girl who introduced watching from behind the bar.
“So… why the big group? You lot a travlin’ show or somthin?” she asked as she busied herself with the cleaning for the night.
“Hunters Ma’am, we hunt witches and the like.”
An odd look crossed her face at this, her busy cleaning stopping for the briefest of moments.
“Sounds dangerous.”
“It can be. But that’s why some one’s gotta do it. Can’t leave those bastards out there to mutilate the good normal folk.”
Mason watched her closer this time, that look again, it made his skin crawl. But in a flash, it was gone again, replaced with a gentle smile and amusement, she laughed, and nodded
“I suppose that’s true. Monsters like that have no place with the good folk. Now if you don’t mind, I need to make a run to the back, it looks like more drink may be needed.” She said with a wink and a smile sliding into the back room.
Mason frowned, unsettled, something about that girl digging insistently at some thought he could quite catch. Absentmindedly he ate, looking around the place, watching for something that could jog his memory. In the corner a commotion erupted, Jeffers again, he reasoned as he leant over to see what the man had gotten into an amused smile on his face. An amusement that didn’t last long, he watched with horror as his companion fell off his seat, choking and coughing, something black and viscus dripping from his lips. Then commotion at another table, then another, panic ripping though the group like a thunderclap.
Mason sat in stunned silence as his men, ten companions who’ve all fought their way through hell and back began to change, Fur and horns and blood. The sound of ripping fabric and flesh as their human forms were shredded away by their own claws. Howls and shrieks of pain as some attempted to mutilate themselves to stop whatever was happening. Then suddenly pain like no other blossomed in Mason’s stomach, like hot coals and acid had been poured into his guts. He doubled over and retched, black ichor, bitter and thick poured from his mouth, burning his throat and face. He wanted to scream as the pain flowed through his whole body, but all his body did was go limp, falling from the chair. Distantly he heard the bowl he held crash to the ground, but the din of yells and the loud incessant ringing in his ears all but muffled it.
He felt his bones break and grow, shifting to accommodate whatever beastly form his body was trying to take. He felt his face extend, the flesh tearing from the sudden and forceful change. He watched in horror, his teeth falling out in a black bloody mess as new sharp ones grew in their place, long vicious tusks included. He tried to scream out, tried to call to his companions but he couldn’t, his vocal cords having long since shredded.
He wanted to die.
It felt like the pain would never come to an end as muscles rewound themselves around massive arms, and his legs bent and broke to make room for hooves. He clawed at the ground Forcing himself to stand, the room spinning from the sudden change in… everything. He blinked down at his hands… paws… claws? The sharp nails having left deep furrows in the wood, the sight of them making his already tenuous grasp on consciousness difficult. Pain still radiated off his body, his movements shaky and unsure as he stumbled a few steps forward.
“What… is this?” he croaked, his voice rough, slurred, and deeply unnatural. He tried to walk again, wobbling some on the new limbs, trying to get to his men, some of which lay on the ground in twisted piles of pulsating flesh, unrecognizable as anything that could have been human. Still others tore at themselves or each other, making the floor slick with blood and ichor.
“What’s going on!” This time the sound escaped as a roar, the sound reverberating in sensitive ears, making him draw back from his own volume. Behind him he heard a laugh, high and just as unsettling as the sight before him. Quickly, he turned, his footing failing him and sending him colliding into the ground. And above him stood the inn keep, a wicked smile in her young face.
“Revenge. Comeuppance for murdering my mother you bastard.” She spat, pride dripping from every word.
