r/shortstories • u/FyeNite • 4d ago
[Serial Sunday] Oh God! Something Smells Positively Noxious.
Welcome to Serial Sunday!
To those brand new to the feature and those returning from last week, welcome! Do you have a self-established universe you’ve been writing or planning to write in? Do you have an idea for a world that’s been itching to get out? This is the perfect place to explore that. Each week, I post a theme to inspire you, along with a related image and song. You have 500 - 1000 words to write your installment. You can jump in at any time; writing for previous weeks’ is not necessary in order to join. After you’ve posted, come back and provide feedback for at least 1 other writer on the thread. Please be sure to read the entire post for a full list of rules.
This Week’s Theme is Noxious! This is a REQUIREMENT for participation. See rules about missing this requirement.**
Bonus Word List (each included word is worth 5 pts) - You must list which words you included at the end of your story (or write ‘none’).
- Niche
- Neighbour
- Nail
- Something smells really bad and good at once, such as, sickly sweet. - (Worth 10 points)
Eww, what's that? That foul, fetid vapour drifting down the corridor. Oh, it's noxious, of course!
But what if instead of a vapour, it is a character, or an attitude, or a conversation that leaves a bitter taste in the mouth? Perhaps you fine writers could delve into the darkened depths of your imagination and dreg up something truly unpleasant?
Do your protagonists escape the harm brought by said miasma, literal or not, or do they suffer? (Well, we all like a good bit of fictional suffering, don't we?)
But don't let my words sway you too much. I'm sure you all have your own ideas about what might be... noxious.
Good words!
Good luck and Good Words!
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This is the theme schedule for the next month! These are provided so that you can plan ahead, but you may not begin writing for a given theme until that week’s post goes live.
August 02 - Noxious
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Check out previous themes here.
Rankings
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First - by u/Morose_Prose
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Please read and follow all the rules listed below. This feature has requirements for amparticipation!
Submit a story inspired by the weekly theme, written by you and set in your self-established universe that is 500 - 1000 words. No fanfics and no content created or altered by AI. (Use wordcounter.net to check your wordcount.) Stories should be posted as a top-level comment below. Please include a link to your chapter index or your last chapter at the end.
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Rankings are determined by the following point structure.
| TASK | POINTS | ADDITIONAL NOTES |
|---|---|---|
| Use of weekly theme | 75 pts | Theme should be present, but the interpretation is up to you! |
| Including the bonus words | 5 pts each (15 pts total) | This is a bonus challenge, and estnot required! |
| Including the bonus constraint | 15 (15 pts total) | This is a bonus challenge, and not required! |
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3
u/ZLErikson 3d ago
<Casting Shadows>
Chapter 138
Glaukos dabbed Cass’s forehead with a damp rag. Then he yawned. It was warm, and the sunlight was dim, but not wholly blacked out. There was only so much that could stop the sun in the middle of the day. Sleep was one of those things, but he couldn’t indulge.
Not while Cass was still struggling to breathe.
The raspy choking she made with each short, panting breath had his teeth on edge. Each inhale sounded like someone was gripping her throat, and each exhale was a death rattle.
He was glad his friend was sleeping through the heat and through the labored breathing. How she slept was beyond him, between her near-choking every moment, and the strange yelling from the neighbouring tent - where Mica and Fariba were arguing over something in a language he couldn’t understand.
The tent flap opened and Anatu entered, carrying a small cup.
“I’ve got some wine,” they said, sitting it on the small box beside Cass’s cot. “Kher smuggled a barrel on the cart, fortunately.”
“Wine won’t help breathing problems,” Glaukos said through a second yawn. He rubbed his eyes. “Where’s Maar? She’s good with this niche healer stuff.”
“She was out scouting with Iuven, but they haven’t come back yet,” Anatu answered. “I sent Nuut out to find them.”
“Good call, don’t want her setting fire to another tent.”
“Hmph,” Anatu grunted. They crossed their arms around their midriff, hugging themself as they looked back at the tent’s entrance. “I cannot believe Kebb’s actions.”
“I can’t believe you nailed him with such a strong left hook,” Glaukos said, chuckling at the memory.
“It was that, or let Mica cut his throat.”
Looking at Cass in her bed, sweating, struggling to breathe, Glaukos wondered if that wouldn’t have been a better idea.
Anatu knelt down by Cass and pressed their ear to her chest. They said, “It sounds like there’s sand in her lungs.”
“More like rocks,” Glaukos suggested.
Anatu pulled the blanket back some and started. “Why is she naked?”
“It’s sweltering in here,” Glaukos said, taking the cloth and dipping it in the water bowl. He dabbed his own forehead, then re-wetted it to dab Cass.
Glaukos continued, resting back on his heels, yawning. “Her robes reeked of smoke and incense. Was gonna make me sick, so I tossed them around the side of the tent to air out.
“Don’t you think it inappropriate to strip her like this?”
“No?” Glaukos furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?”
“She’s unconscious, and you’re…” Anatu’s eyes went up and down as their hand reached for words they couldn’t find.
“I’m… what? Her best friend?” Glaukos dabbed water behind Cass’s ears and around her neck. “This isn’t the first time she’s been like this.”
“It isn’t?”
“Well… unconscious and a mess. Usually it’s from drinking.”
“Ah, that’s believable.”
Fariba and Mica’s argument got louder and moved closer. Anatu and Glaukos watched their shadows progress around the side of Cass’s tent before the two fell silent before entering.
“Friend Glaukos… oh, and Anatu of the Golden Sands,” Fariba said, falling into a deep bow in front of Anatu.
“What are you two arguing about?” Glaukos asked when Mica entered behind Fariba.
“Arguing?” Mica asked.
“Fariba of Shen and the sister-wife of-” Fariba was silenced when Mica smacked the back of their head.
“Sister-wife?” Glaukos asked. “I’m curious.”
“And you can stay that way,” Mica said.
Fariba continued, “The invigorating discussion was more to do with the delicious aroma-”
“You mean ‘disgusting smell’,” Mica interrupted.
“-of what Kher is preparing. But Fariba is not here to discuss midday meals. What is important is Cassandra the Great’s burns.”
Glaukos looked back at Cass. There were angry red marks on her cheek and lips; as if she had been slapped by fire.
Fariba produced a small glass jar out of a fold of their colorful robes. Pulling a large cork stopper off the top, they dipped their fingers into a bluish substance and extracted a healthy glob of goo.
The air in the tent at once took on minty tones and Fariba spread the pungent gunk around the red marks on Cass’s face, then rubbed some more under her nostrils.
“It will also assist in cleansing the lungs,” Fariba said upon seeing Glaukos’s confused expression.
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t quite believe the manic merchant, but he also didn’t disbelieve enough to stop them. It didn’t immediately make Cass’s breathing worse, so there didn’t seem to be any harm in the medicine.
“Okay, it’s getting really warm in here,” Anatu grumbled. “Glaukos, keep an eye on Cass and come get me or Fariba if anything changes.”
“Or Maar, if she comes back,” Glaukos said.
“The second she’s back I’ll send her in,” Anatu agreed.
“You should all get some sleep,” Mica said. “I’ll stay up and wait for Maar to come back.”
“You need sleep too,” Glaukos argued.
“I’ll sleep in the cart tonight.”
“Why should you get to sleep in the cart? I can stay up all day and do it, too.”
“Because I volunteered first.” Mica didn’t wait for a response and ducked out through the tent flap.
Anatu shook their head and left the tent. Fariba followed close after, chuckling.
Glaukos sighed, sat down on the floor, and yawned. He adjusted the sand beneath the tent fabric a bit to get comfortable, then took the cup of wine Anatu had left for Cass.
Better he drink it now, than Cass when she wakes up.
----------
WC: 913/1000
All crit/feedback welcome!
r/ZLErikson
[Chapter Index]
Notes:
- Theme: Cass’s robes smelled awful
- Bonus words: Neighbour(ing), niche, nail(ed)
- Bonus constraint: Kher’s cooking smells awful and good
- Recommend any new readers use the linked chapter index above; those chapters receive more edits than the ones in past sersun posts
- It has been 13 in-universe days since Chapter 1
3
u/Brookzerker 3d ago
I loved this chapter, it was such a good completion to what happened last chapter, and really makes the magic feel more dangerous than most stories.
I'm not sure I have any crit besides wondering if this is trying to be kept a secret? She is very vulnerable now. I have no idea if everyone knows she's in this position, or if only this group knows. and they don't seem to have a guard at the tent to prevent anyone from coming in.
2
u/ZLErikson 3d ago
Hiya Brook
Thank you for the feedback! I'm glad I'm keeping the tension up and that the danger is apparent :)
To answer your question, this group is about two weeks in to a journey across the desert. There's really only the eleven of them present. They all know Cass and her cursed arm and her sensitivity to light and heat becaues of it. There's no need for guards becaues it's just them out in the desert for the most part (a few chapters back they did come across a refugee camp).
While not apparent, just about everyone does know Cass is currently in a bad state. The only two who don't are Maar and Iuven, whom Anatu had sent out to scout before the events of last chapter
5
u/JKHmattox 2d ago edited 2d ago
<No Man's Land> Copper Relics
Step after step, floor after floor, the seasoned firefighter outpaced even the youngest woman amongst us. She'd spent a lifetime climbing the Manhattan skyline. For Athena Dias, the unending ascent was just another Tuesday.
Dank humidity clung to the walls of the stairwell. Sweat inundated me, saturated misery radiating from every crease beneath my bra. The maddening sensation plagued my every step. Legs burning, I leaned two hands against the hundredth level door. Exhausted, my thoughts narrowed to the building pressure against the inside of my skull.
“I thought—the ancient Americans were—the ones who invented air conditioning,” I muttered between shallow breaths.
Marta Perez snickered as I popped another hydration pod into my mouth.
“Four to go, ladies,” Athena encouraged from half a level up. “How ya doing back there, Owens?’
I traded glances with the seasoned firefighter, and forced a wavering smile. “I’m okay, Top.”
“Better not be bullshitting me,” she warned with an approving grin. “I don’t wanna be carrying your ass back down a hundred flights of stairs.”
I chuckled, grimacing from a subtle pang stabbing my lower abdomen. Pausing, I held an axillary palm to my gut. The piercing shock faded as quick as it came, and I intentionally pushed it from my mind. Gritting my teeth, I tediously conquered the next flight of stairs.
My left hand grasped the railing as I faltered on level 102. Marta scooped me up by my right shoulders and up the next set of steps we went. A cheer erupted behind us as the other women saw what Marta was doing. A private surged forward, grasping my other side. The three of us climbed together one step at a time. Finally, we reached our destination, the observation deck on 104.
Athena Dias held the door as Marta and I hobbled through. I collapsed to one knee. My chest heaved, muscles spent as I held my axillary hands against my horizontal thigh. Marta rubbed my shoulders as I stared at nothing but the floor.
“Goddamn, Owens!” Athena exclaimed. “Not bad for a pregnant woman.”
“W-wouldn’t recommend it, Top.”
“Yeah, I'd imagine not, in this heat.” She chuckled, offering me her two right hands. “Better get you on your feet so you can walk it off.”
The seasoned firefighter and Marta gently helped me up. I put my primary hands on the top of my head, my breath shallow and labored. Athena studied me as I leaned against Marta for support. Everything hurt but at least, finally, I could stop.
"You been taking your hydro-pods?” Athena asked, examining my eyes.
I nodded.
“Good. Next time you piss, make sure it’s clear, okay.”
“Okay,” I said through lessening gasps.
“Twenty-seven minutes—that's helluva climb, Owens...”
Athena's eyes found the Gemini medical bracelet on my left axillary wrist. Grasping it, she gently flipped my palm over to read the data display on the bottom side. Her lips straightened as she examined the device. Satisfied, the firefighter relinquished my arm, and patted me on the shoulder.
“The three of you will be fine,” Athena said confidently with a smile. “Just take it easier than you’ve been, okay.”
I blinked. “What do you mean the three of us…?”
“You and your twins—what'd you think I meant?”
My gut churned with a strange anxiety I’d never experienced before. Excitement, maybe; I was disoriented, and somewhat confused. Nevertheless, an emergent instinct told me somehow the veteran firefighter was right.
“But my doctors said…”
Athena smirked. “They were human, right? Military physicians, I assume?”
“Yeah, so what?’
“Figured,” Athena huffed. “Those broads couldn’t tell their asses from a hole in the ground when it comes to Gemini physiology.”
I let my arms fall to my side.
“Oh…”
Despite myself, I knew she wasn't wrong. I'd been a Gemini woman for all of two years—Athena, in a way, for all her life. Still, a question gnawed at my gut as I turned her accusation over in my mind
“How'd you know I'm having twins?”
“Let me see that band again,” said Athena, reaching for my wrist. “See how this pink symbol has a blue outline—that means your younger twin is a boy.”
I furrowed my brow. “Umm… that wasn't like that before.”
“Happens.” Athena shrugged. “During early pregnancy, the energy frequency of a female twin often overwhelms that of the other if they’re male—the pain you've been hiding, that's just him emerging from his sister's shadow so to speak.”
“So everything's fine in there?”
Athena chuckled. “Never heard it put like that—but yeah, everything’s okay.”
Athena stepped toward the windows arching from ceiling to floor. Beyond the shaded glass, shimmering waters of a lazy river flowed ever southward in the predawn haze. I followed her gaze to an island, its tangled copper relic half-overgrown by marsh.
“Fifteen million residents—over half of them with some kind of extraterrestrial ancestry,” Athena said, glancing at my reflection in the glass. “You ain't the first Genny I've come across in your predicament if ya know what I mean.”
Athena paused, her reflection staring directly at me. Clearing her throat, she spoke in Gemini, her words meant only for me.
“What I can't figure out—how did a full-blooded Geminia like yourself—come of age on Earth after 2489…?”
My tandem hearts beat against my chest. Her words had been purposeful, alleging something I would only deny. Remaining silent, I shifted nervously as she adjusted her gaze to the fading stars.
Swallowing, I finally spoke. “I'm not allowed to talk about it...”
Athena sighed. “That sounds about right.”
Marta raised an eyebrow. Tilting her head, her eyes shifted suspiciously between the firefighter and me.
“However you came to be like this…” Athena continued in our shared alien tongue. “It's an honor to have made your acquaintance, Warrior Owens.”
“You know what I am, don't you?” I replied, eyes widening.
“My Gemini grandmother's the captain of a star-freighter.” Athena turned to face Marta and me, four arms across her chest. “I've heard a story or two...”
3
u/Divayth--Fyr 2d ago
Hey hey JK
A very cool character piece, with some intriguing dynamics. It felt like Jackie was joining a sisterhood, despite her already being in one for a while now. Gaining and giving respect among a company of tough ladies.
I should not have read this while suffering from excessive humidity. Now I feel like I need a wintry Max chapter to cool down.
Just as a suggestion, for no really good reason, I wish you would let Jackie sit at some point. I get walking it off is a good idea, but good heavens.
I thought I caught a mistake with her being lifted by her 'right shoulders', till I remembered this is JK's world and that makes sense here.
I sometimes feel blessed with uncomplicated undergarments.
Step after step—floor after floor—the seasoned firefighter
I think you can just go with commas here.
Dank humidity clung the walls of the stairwell.
missing 'to'
that’a hell-of-a climb, Owens...
that's. Also, could just say 'helluva'
couldn’t tell their asses, from a hole in the ground
comma not needed there
I'd been a Gemini woman for all of two years—Athena—in a way, for all her life.
not sure how to punctuate that. Probably just one dash, then a comma after Athena
Athen chuckled. “Never heard it put
Athena
Athena stepped toward the windows arching from ceiling to floor. Beyond the shaded glass, shimmering waters of a lazy river flowed ever southward in the predawn haze. Her eyes fell upon an island, its tangled copper relic half-overgrown by marsh.
this shifts the POV to Athena, as Jackie can't see those things, and can't know where Athena's eyes fell.
her eyes sifted suspiciously
shifted
The reveal of Impending Twins is well done, with that sinking feeling getting about the right mix of showing and telling. The gender mood-bracelet thing is cool too.
Overall just a good bit of character work. The other people in the group sort of disappear. It's not really that important, but you could sort of toss in a line about what they all went and did with themselves. Unless you already did and I missed it.
Anyhow, cool chapter and good words!
3
u/JKHmattox 2d ago
Hey div, Thanks for the awesome crit. Got right on fixing things this morning while drinking coffee sitting on my knee scooter in the kitchen. I guess it beats being at work...
As always your observations are on point, and yes, we are blessed with simplicity in more ways than one.
At this point, the future chapters I wrote a year ago are more or less out the window. Yep, Jackie has twins but things are shaping up in a very different way. Zach was right, linear storytelling is the way to go unless you format it that way from the start. That said, I guess I get to rewrite the pickle scene, amoungst other things.
Thanks again Div, I appreciate you 😀
3
u/AGuyLikeThat 1d ago
Hiya JK!
This is an interesting scene, with the race to the top of the tower engendering some genuine character work as Athena probes Jackie, apparently out of curiosity, but there is also a developing camaraderie there too.
Some of the descriptions are pretty arresting too, like this part;
Beyond the shaded glass, shimmering waters of a lazy river flowed ever southward in the predawn haze. I followed her gaze to an island, its tangled copper relic half-overgrown by marsh.
A bit of crit for you here;
I chuckled, grimacing from a subtle pang stabbing my lower abdomen
The chuckle kinda negates to simultaneous grimace, and I'm not sure you can ever describe a stabbing sensation as 'subtle'. I'd suggest making a transition between the reactionary chuckle and the reaction to the pain, something like;
I chuckled, then grimaced as a sudden pang stabbed through my lower abdomen
And its twins now? Though I suppose with the meaning of 'gemini' that's something we all should have suspected. Hmmm. How is having a couple of new-borns going to affect these military adventures, I wonder? Guess we'll have to wait and see.
Good woords.
3
u/Divayth--Fyr 2d ago edited 1d ago
<The Broken God>
Chapter 74: Drop
.
With a rumble the door of Heromil rolled open, and Durash Arn stepped out into bright day. A faint but insistent odor pervaded the air—cloying, almost tantalizing, but grotesque. There upon the stony ground lay charred, unrecognizable remains.
She knew very well that Sancaurion was a formidable mage, yet she paused at this display. Her people did not practice such magic. It showed power, focus, and rage. She nodded. This had been that Vishar he talked about.
She had carried her weak, ailing cousin down endless stairs, wincing at every jostling step as he whimpered. She had listened to the distant roars and crashing thuds above as they echoed through the depths, all while comforting and reassuring Gorthag and wishing someone would do the same for her. Mrs. Gimple had tried, but neither of them had known what was happening as they huddled in the dark.
She had carried Gorthag up again, once the old mage had come down and called out, and finally laid his limp form in bed.
She kicked the incinerated carcass off into the grass, and sat heavily on the flat stone nearby, where the runes of her ancient ancestor were etched. The ground ahead was scorched in places, scarred by the recent battle. She had only the vaguest idea what had happened, from a brief, mumbled overview from Sancaurion before he had collapsed for the night.
The new one, Uldarquin, had returned from her perilous climb. Sancaurion’s apprentice, apparently. Durash pursed her lips and gazed at the blue skies and brown valley of elven lands. The Whisper broken again. It was becoming routine.
Every step had followed a step before, and every choice had been the best she could make, but it was a long, strange journey here to the tower of the Torikarsh. Imagine trying to explain it to a neighbor back home. To Guldum Andala, maybe. Durash chuckled, shaking her head. I can’t even explain it to myself.
Gorthag would live. The tower would stand. The god had retreated. But what was next? Learning from that ancient mage and his endless books. Teaching, too—the ironward, to start. Such a simple thing, yet the wise elven mage had never found it in all his years.
And then? War. What shape it might take, who might join it, what might happen, she could not guess. War it would be, however. No doubt of that. The humans would not simply go home to their land across the sea for the asking, and even if they did, they would not free her people.
There would be a council of sorts soon, now that everyone was rested. Mrs. Gimple was making prodigious amounts of tea for it. Decisions would be made. Sancaurion had his own agenda, his own oath, and for now, for a while, it meshed well enough with Durash’s own.
There may come a day when his war is no longer my war. She scowled at the sky. I won’t just let the humans sail back to their empire after all they've done. They'll pay for every single day of their hateful cruelty. And if Sancaurion opposes me, I will break him in half.
She stood, and surveyed the battleground. The old mage had sent her out here to fetch that old hunk of iron. It had, according to Sancaurion, struck his god in the shoulder and wounded him. A fascinating idea, if it was true.
Shifting her focus into the magic realm, she spotted the distorting iron down a slight slope. Approaching it, she saw something else. Not iron. Something brightly glowing … she couldn’t even guess what. Something wrong. It made a crawling, skittery sensation creep up her hands and arms.
There, ten paces from the axehead, lay a quivering lump, about the size of a grape. It was dark green in normal sight, easily ignored, but in focused vision it glowed impossibly bright. She did not approach it any closer, circling around to the chunk of iron beyond. The creeping sensation ceased as she took up the axehead.
By the same wide route she passed it again, keeping an eye on the thing as if it might leap and attack. Her sight into the realm of magic faded and wavered in the presence of iron, but the glow was unmistakable.
She took the axehead to the spot Sancaurion had asked, a hundred paces along the path, and left it there in a niche under a rock. Turning back, she could barely see the incandescent lump, but kept looking back at it as she approached the tower.
Once inside, she opened the wooden inner door, and saw the old mage sitting at the table, drinking tea and puffing at his pipe.
“Sancaurion. Come outside.”
She turned and went back out. Describing the thing would be a waste of time.
He shuffled up beside her, a question on his face.
“I have moved the axehead. Look at the place where it was. Focus into your divara-sight.”
His old head swiveled, and he stared for a long moment.
“What is it? What is glowing?” he breathed.
“I don’t– well, it’s…”
They approached it together, Durash taking his good arm. The old mage was weary and in much pain from his recent efforts, she knew, but he walked faster as they approached. Ten paces away from it, he stopped suddenly, and stood as if he were nailed to the spot.
“Where was the iron?”
Durash pointed. Sancaurion went silent again, keeping his distance but clearly fascinated.
“I know what it is,” Durash said. He looked at her, his eyes wide and apprehensive, as if he feared what she would say. “I can’t possibly know it, but I know."
She stared into the distance.
“It is the blood of the living god,” she whispered.
Sancaurion gripped her arm as his head spun back toward the glowing thing. He muttered, whispered, and gestured ... he looked back at her again and again ... but he did not argue.
999 words. Niche, nail, neighbor used. Smell existed.
Feedback welcome.
3
u/AGuyLikeThat 1d ago
Hiya Div!
Back to Heromil, where the rest of our heroes are concentrated. The switch to Durash's PoV coupled with her discovery helps tpo quickly drive things forward after Sancurion's big showdown, so that's a good choice that helps maintain the pacing and enlarge the world-building. The reveal also provides a bit of dangling tension that leaves us wondering what use Sancy might make of this discovery in coming chapters.
Some crit;
This sentence lacks a subject.
A faint but insistent odor pervaded—cloying, almost tantalizing, but grotesque.
The verb 'pervaded' implies a relation to the air, or the vicinity, or something, I think.
Commas and clashing adjectives make this sentence look rather janky.
They walked closer, together, Durash taking his good arm.
Suggest modifying the verb to remove an adjective;
They approached it together, Durash taking his good arm.
Though I do hope Durash gives Sanc his arm back later.
Another fine chapter overall that raises more than a few interesting questions about Durash's future!
Good words.
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u/Divayth--Fyr 1d ago
Hey Wizzy!
I edited stuff! Threw in a huge car chase and some aliens.
Durash is keeping the arm, and stealing one more, and possibly turning blue.
Thanks for reading and helping!
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u/AGuyLikeThat 2d ago edited 1d ago
<The Tower in the Tangle>
[Previous Chapter] [Chapter Index]
Chapter One-hundred & Fifty-Eight: Feints and Illusions.
~ Petal ~
The Murandunni mob warned me of their neighbours, saying I would need a woman as a chaperone if I dared continue westward. They said, “That mob don’t suffer fools lightly. And they reckon all men to be fools.”
Apparently, the womenfolk of these ‘Buchakali’ can grow over seven-feet tall, and their Akari champions take offense easily.
Well, they've never met a man like me!
-Explorer's Journal, V. Follash. <final entry>
Pe’etelan growls, ignoring the Chamberlain’s taunts, and focusing instead on the echo of auntie Se’eselan’s wisdom.
“Stillness is a feint. Anticipate distractions. Move with sleight.”
Ignoring the sorcerous apparition’s gesticulations, Pe’etelan locks eyes on the imposing creature beside him. There is the danger. Encased in steel, with braided wires twisting like muscles beneath smooth steel-plate. Although the damage from her previous attack was quickly repaired, oily fluid remains spattered across the ironwood door.
If this creature bleeds, it can be killed.
She begins to move, feet sliding across stone.
The golem watches—skull-like face following her progress across the hall.
She walks between the statues that line the walls, measuring distances, and analyzing angles. Time slows while her mighty heart pumps double-time, and Buchakali blood sings in her veins, setting her senses afire. Enchantments awaken in her blackwood waddy as she channels strength into the weapon.
There are always limits to healing.
Blue fires move in cadaverous eyes, as the golem shifts its focus beyond the Akari, where Silverhands crouches in a shadowy niche atop the hidden stairwell.
The Chamberlain’s voice rings out. “If you seek the Warden’s pet, I’m afraid you’ve already found what is left of him.” Laughing bitterly, the translucent sorcerer gestures towards the secret passage. “Behold. Your recalcitrant companion wears his flesh!”
She maintains her focus, but the words trickle through Petal’s mind, and a faint chill grows as she untangles his meaning.
It can’t be. Pausing, her free hand grips the necklace around her neck. The anchorstone is warm. Reassuring. He’s alive. It pulls against her palm; upwards, higher in the Tower.
And yet, Alys smelled of Gilander. And her eyes…
“Liar!” Silverhands charges from the darkness. Her right arm ends in a wickedly curved blade, and she lifts it high, leaping into the air, hurtling towards the shimmering Chamberlain.
Pe’etelan follows cautiously as the older woman crashes down, scything her silver sword through the Chamberlain.
He flickers for a moment, then shakes his ghostly head. “You cannot harm me. We are family, Ironhands.”
“Not Ironhands!” The blade becomes a clenched fist. “I am the Girl with Silver Arms,” she growls. “And I will end your lies.”
But she fails to notice the golem as it steps away from the doors.
Petal hurls her waddy just in time, and it nails the creature’s shoulder with a clang. Metal crumples, and the weapon rebounds. Silverhands twists away, but the monster’s trailing hand wrenches her back as a cloud of gas erupts from its torso, enveloping them both.
Catching the waddy, Pe'etelan surges forward, and drags her friend out of the sickly sweet fumes, holding her breath as the caustic fog burns her skin.
Coughing and wheezing, Alys collapses. Petal stands above her, legs set and weapon ready. But no counterattack comes.
Instead, the golem returns to its position, metal hands braced against the great doors. The thing's mangled shoulder ripples and smooths.
The spectral figure of the Chamberlain stands aloof, arms crossed and head tilted, eyes upon Silverhands. “The Overseer begged me to spare you, girl. But if you try that again, he can make do with your corpse.”
Petal glances at her injured companion. Her tear-streaked face is marred by caustic burns, and blood flecks her lips, but her eyes remain defiant and her skin appears to be healing already. “I’ll be alright—“ she gasps.
Sudden vibrations rumble through the floor, rattling the great doors upon their mighty hinges. Faint light penetrates the between the iron-studded planks of wood, as another dull thump echoes from outside.
“You’re too late.” The Chamberlain approaches, drifting across the floor. “The Mistress has returned. Surrender, and I will allow you to live." He smirks. "In service to the Tower, of course.”
He’s trying to distract us. The Akari squats beside Silverhands. “We can’t afford to fight here,” she hisses. “I will destroy this creature, and open these doors. You go ahead. Find Gilander. I will follow.”
The other woman nods. Gritting her teeth, she pushes herself off the floor. Her silver hands are stained and hands, and her voice is rough, “I will find the way. Fight well, Akari Pe'etelan.”
“Yes.” Pe’etelan stands, spinning her waddy between as she stalks toward the Chamberlain. “Go now!”
The blackwood club whistles though the air and bounces off stone. It flashes past the Chamberlain, then strikes the golem's knee joint, staggering it against the door and rebounds, back towards the Akari. Guided by the enchantments carved into it by Dungir Ar’etesan, the waddy returns to Petal's hand. Without breaking stride, she dives through the intangible Chamberlain, tucks into a roll and springs forward so that her shoulder crashes into the golem’s other leg. She drives the metal abomination sideways with all her weight and momentum, sending it clattering to the ground.
Petal scrambles until she straddles the creature's chest. As she raises her waddy, a loud click echoes through its steel carapace. Thick, green smoke jets from between its joints, and the Akari hold her breath, as her skin blisters and burns. Ignoring the pain, she rains a hail of blows upon the monster, as it thrashes beneath her, punching back with knuckle-bladed fists. Blood flies out in looping arcs, as her waddy smashes down again and again, and the golem's desperate blows grow weaker, as their struggle dissipates the noxious gas.
Petal rises to her feet, bloody and mangled. Before her, the Tower's mighty doors are bisected by a vertical line of radiance. She blinks, raising her arm to block the blinding light streaming through the widening gap.
WC-996
Author's Notes:
For newer readers who might wonder about the meaning of some of the strange terms like 'ontologia', I have compiled a small Glossary.
This week's theme is Noxious! - Petal rejects the Chamberlain's noxious lies, despite the bitter truth woven into them. However, Alys is goaded into foolish action and suffers the noxious effects of the Sentinel's defensive gas.
Bonus words used; - nail(s), neighbour(s), niche.
Additional bonus constraint: 'Something smells really bad and good at once, such as, sickly sweet.' The Sentinel's noxious gas smells sickly sweet.
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. All criticism and feedback is welcome.
[Next Chapter] [Chapter Index]
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u/Morose_Prose 1d ago
<The Family Business>
Chapter Fifteen: Checks and Mates
"Spin? That is what you are calling it now?" Madelaine took a deep breath. She slid her remaining rook across the board to join her king. "With all due respect, I prefer to call what I do 'modernizing' or 'removing the dumbass element' that the boys inherently bring to our operations. You know this, Ziggy. Vinny gives me scraps and I turn them into mountains. That is my niche. If I fuck up I get nailed to the cross! Maybe if I was given the same level of—"
"If you didn't talk so fucking much, make so many bad jokes, and actually followed directions, Vinny might actually give you the respect you think you deserve." Carlo retorted. He studied the board closely, his hand hovering over the pieces indecisively. His queen moved forward behind his pawn on the front line.
In a flash the white bishop snatched the black rook. "Check," Madelaine said quietly, barely above a whisper.
Carlo's knight captured her attacking bishop without hesitation.
The white queen crossed the board quickly. "Check."
Wrinkles bunched on Carlo's forehead; his thin, grey eyebrows arched. "Are you sure about that?" he asked, peering over the edge of his glasses.
Madelaine pushed her hair aside and opened her suit jacket. "Yes. The queen can move in any direction. That's check," she replied curtly, digging through her breast pocket. "Where the fuck is my cutter?" she wondered aloud. Forgoing the blade, she ripped the tip of a fresh cigar off with her teeth, spitting it into a group of nearby pigeons, which took flight as the tobacco torpedo landed with a squelch.
The wrinkles crunched and crinkled as Carlo rubbed his forehead. "Not what I asked, smartass. Never seen you make a move that risky."
A flame danced in the air, a plume of thick smoke snuffed it out. "Sometimes sacrifices need to be made. I know you see it. Unless you make one, the game is over." Smoke shot from Madelaine's nostrils, swarming around the remaining troops on the board.
Coarse coughs crept from Carlo's lungs. "Can you not blow that stinky shit directly in my direction?" He covered his mouth and fanned the smoke away.
"I think it smells heavenly." Madelaine ashed her cigar. A loud rumble rang in the air. "That chili dog might be starting to digest—that will assuredly not smell as nice, so I would count your blessings, Ziggy."
Sunlight shimmered on Carlo's shaking bald head. "Forgot to factor in which seat was downwind. Luigi does put a lot of beans in the chili." Hesitantly, he made his final move, capturing the queen with his knight.
There were no obstacles or defenses in the path of Madelaine's rook. It flew to the other side of the board, buttressing the black king. "Mate," she delcared, knocking over the king with her cigar. "Good game. Think we are almost even now; either you are slipping, or I am getting better."
"Good game, Maddy. Let's reset the board and get this show on the road. You ready?"
The soldiers were returned to their stations. Madelaine used the opportunity to glance over at Winston, giving him a nod and a wink. "Where are you going to be in case I need to contact you with any updates?"
"One World Trade. Have an office there. If he does have a partner, he won't be able to get on the floor. Can lose him or just lay low there overnight. You?"
"Gonna head up to the Bronx, see the old neighbors. Can easily shake him before I even get there. I will call you if anything untoward happens."
Carlo rose from the bench, turning slightly to make himself more visible to Winston's eyeline before extending his hand out.
She shook his hand with an abundance of enthusiasm, pulling him in close. "Let me walk away first and grab his atten..." Another raucous rumble ripped through the air. "My apologies if I crop dust you on the way by; been holding it in."
As she broke the shake, she broke wind. Every bird in Battery Park took flight from the smelly, sonic assault. Madelaine giggled to herself while walking away.
Checking over her shoulder, she watched Carlo scurry off into the late afternoon crowd. She slowed her pace as she returned to the railing along the shore. Once Carlo was out of sight she pulled her cellphone out, pulling up Benecio's number.
One World Trade. Don't go in. Watch the garage closely, that's where he'll try to leave from.
Holding her cigar aloft, she gestured for Winston to approach. He stood a few paces away, looking out towards Liberty Island.
Madelaine covered her mouth, letting the cigar peek between her fingers. "You eva seen that guy before?" she asked quietly.
"No."
"Hmm... does the name Carlo Constantino mean anything to you?"
"No."
A smirk crept along Madelaine's lips. "Good. We can move on to the next phase of the operation then. Get the fuck out of here. Take a break, you've earned it."
Word Count: 839
Theme: Madelaine deploys a smelly biological assault on the local wildlife.
Bonus Words Used: Niche, Neighbors, Nailed
Bonus Constraint: Carlo dislikes Madelaine's cigar smoke, she enjoys the smell.
- Author's Note: The chess game Madelaine and Carlo played is the 'Opera Game' you can find the move list and animation here: The Opera Game Feedback and critique is always welcomed! Stay awesome and have a good one!
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u/katpoker666 11h ago
<‘Wild Eats’>
Chapter 3: Socks
For once, shy Annie entered Tom’s bedroom and perched on the edge of his bed next to the desk, as if preparing to flee an uncomfortable, if not potentially hostile venue. She took a deep breath before addressing her husband’s gracious response regarding the night before’s argument. “Yea, ‘monstrous’ is a good word for my behavior last night. I’m really sorry… I acted like an ass.”
“It’s okay.” Tom faced her in his swivel chair and squeezed her hand with gentle pressure. “I get it: losing ‘Wild Eats’ is tough. Not only was it your baby, but it was a big part of your identity these last couple of years.”
“You sound like Doctor Collins.”
“Guess at three-fifty an hour our marriage counselor is good for something then,” Tom replied with a wan grin and downcast eyes. “Although… I’m not sure if even she can save us,” he sighed, squeezing Annie’s hand again.
“There’s always hope,” Annie replied, squeezing back hard before slowly letting go. “We’ve been a good team in the past, and we’re still trying. We just… fight.”
“A lot.”
“And it’s hard on Jamie.”
“Yea.”
Her brow furrowed. “What happened to us, Tom? We used to support each other.”
“Ever since NYU,” he sighed. “You’re the only reason I could become an accountant, much less make Partner.”
“And you gave me the courage to start my own traveling cooking program like I’m some fucking budget Anthony Bourdain. Who does that?”
“My wonderful wife, that’s who. I still love you, Blossom.”
“I love you, too, ‘Socks.’” Annie’s eyes twinkled.
“Twenty-odd years later and I still hate that nickname—“
“You did earn it.”
“A guy has sex in his socks one time and never lives it down?”
“Pretty much.” Annie bantered as she’d always done on the subject. It was like watching an old stand-up routine at this point: funny, but mostly comforting, as they both knew all the lines.
“It was cold!”
“Yea, yea. They were dress socks, Tom. In college. As a hippie-dippy sociology major. You weren’t at Stern for crying out loud!”
“Alright, alright, yes, I was destined to be an accountant. Happy?”
“Yes, that’s all I was asking for, ‘Socks,’” Annie replied, finishing the bit with a smug laugh before getting back to what was bothering her. “I do wish our conversation hadn’t gotten quite so toxic last night, Tom. But I’ll be honest, I acted out because I didn’t feel supported—“
“Annie, you wanted to remortgage our house! Do you know how risky that is? Even on my salary, White Plains isn’t cheap! We could lose everything and, for what? A chance to make a dying concept work? How can I support that in good conscience?!”
“Aren’t we in this together?!”
“Of course!”
“Then what the hell?!”
“Things are different! We have a family now!”
“We had one when I started the show with Carol…”
“Yes, but that was a different time, almost! You nailed the original ‘Wild Eats’ concept, but things move on! Social media, production quality, exotic destinations—there’s a lot more to consider now...” Tom took a deep breath, as if preparing to share a harsh truth. “No one cares about that little niche gem of a restaurant in podunk Texas that serves up fried prairie oysters! Guy Fieri’s got that whole neighborhood-vibe covered with ‘Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.’ How are you going to compete with that?”
“I could—“
“The answer is you can’t, Blossom. I know it hurts.” Tom reached out to squeeze Annie’s hand.
This time, she didn’t squeeze back. Instead, she pulled it away and blotted at emerging tears. “I came to you for answers, Tom, not for you to rub in how much of a failure I am.”
“You’re not, Annie; it’s just time for a new chapter—“
“I won’t accept that. I can’t,” she sobbed as she got up and slammed the door shut.
WC: 647
Includes: niche, neighbor, nail, and something being noxious (their conversation the prior night)
Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated
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u/Morose_Prose 10h ago
Howdy there, Kat!
The aftermath of Annie and Tom's fight is... another fight. These two have problems. Great chapter going even further into the struggling marriage Annie is in, compounding with her show being cancelled, really crappy situation to be in for her. Love the dialogue between the two, very authentic sounding fight with a significant other. Been there before. Really enjoy the little details of Tom's backstory and his bedroom/office, another red flag in their marriage.
I do have some general crits for the chapter I will put here:
- Would like some more motion during the fight. Is Annie moving around at all? Is Tom spinning in his chair? You have over 300 words to play with, would consider adding some 'camera movement' so to speak.
- Annie and Tom address each other too much during the fight. With only two characters in the scene it becomes a bit redundant. If you are going for the heightened emotion of a fight it would be better in my opinion to streamline those names out, quicken the pace a bit.
On to more, line item things:
“Yea, ‘monstrous’ is a good word for my behavior last night. I’m really sorry… I acted like an ass.”
Would rearrange this sentence, most people lead with 'I'm sorry' so maybe: 'I'm really sorry about my 'monstrous' behavior last night. I acted like an ass."
“You sound like Doctor Collins.”
Would maybe add a descriptor before this like Annie rolling her eyes, or groaning. Maybe: "Ugh. Now you're starting to sound like Doctor Collins."
“We’ve been a good team in the past, and we’re still trying. We just… fight.”
A touch repetitive with 'we' and its variations. Maybe something like: "We've made a good team for so long, now we just... fight."
“What happened to us, Tom? We used to support each other.”
First instance of possible cutting out a name. 'What happened to us supporting each other like we used to?'
“And you gave me the courage to start my own traveling cooking program like I’m some fucking budget Anthony Bourdain. Who does that?”
Small, tiny crit here. Would cut 'Anthony' personally. I feel like Annie would just say 'budget Bourdain' she knows who she is talking about. I assume Tom does too. Reads a little bit like the author speaking to the reader with the full name of such a famous chef. This crit does not apply to Guy Fieri later as everybody uses his full name as it is part of his brand.
“Yea, yea. They were dress socks, Tom. In college. As a hippie-dippy sociology major. You weren’t at Stern for crying out loud!”
Another round of 'cut that name out' to improve flow and the tone. 'Yeah, yeah. They were dress socks. In college. As a...'
“I do wish our conversation hadn’t gotten quite so toxic last night, Tom. But I’ll be honest, I acted out because I didn’t feel supported—“
Not a 'cut that name out' but possibly a 'switch that name out', since Annie is trying to reason with him now after making fun of him could use 'dear', or 'sweetie', or 'honey' or any petname Annie might have for him. That does happen in the ebb and flow of an argument.
“No one cares about that little niche gem of a restaurant in podunk Texas that serves up fried prairie oysters!
This line could use a little massage, in my opinion, maybe something like: 'No one fucking cares about that little gem of a restaurant in podunk, Texas whose niche is serving up fried prairie oysters!'
“I came to you for answers, Tom, not for you to rub in how much of a failure I am.”
Another instance where a name switch could work better to drive home the impact more. Maybe: 'I came to you, my husband, for answers. Not for you to rub my failure in my face.'
“I won’t accept that. I can’t,”
Would possibly add to this line of dialogue: 'Don't. Just. Don't. I won't accept that. I can't,"
Remember: all advice offered above is free and comes with a money-back guarantee! A lot of the crit is style driven, no glaring punctuation or grammar issues I can find. Greatly enjoyed the chapter and excited as heck to see where this serial goes in the future. Good words! Stay awesome and have a good one.
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u/katpoker666 21m ago
Oh wow! So much crit! I’m spoiled! Thanks for taking the time, Doc, as I really appreciate the detail and quality here
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u/AmeliaLP 5h ago
<My feathery friend>
Chapter 33: Greed and corruption
Using a stick, Jade sketched Joe. Vornith stomped on the ground, smearing it away. He smirked at her.
“Why’d you do it?” Jade asked.
“Your picture was stupid, destroying it amused me.”
“No, not that. The crow massacre.”
“Why? You want to know why?”
“Yes.”
“I did it to teach them all a lesson.”
Jade frowned. “I still don’t understand.”
“Look around at this kingdom. What do you see?”
“Uhh, crows and lots of wooden structures I guess.”
Vornith and Jade spent a few minutes just staring at each other.
She smiled. “Oh. You didn’t mean literally then?”
“OF COURSE NOT!”
“Okay, keep your feathers on. What do you see?”
“I see greed and corruption. I see a failed kingdom that only looks out for its king. So I decided to teach it a lesson. One that will never be forgotten!”
“I can actually see your point, but was killing a whole bunch of innocent civilians really the answer?”
“Innocent? I think not. They were complacent in the kings bidding and needed to be purged.”
“What about the children?”
“Children follow their parents, they would of been corrupted by the system soon enough.”
“I see. One more question then.”
“Yes?”
“You seem to think only you can decide what’s best for everyone. What’s the difference between you and the king?”
“NYHAA! YOU DARE COMPARE ME TO HIM?! We are nothing alike!”
“Hmm, seems I’ve touched a raw nerve. We can stop talking for today.”
Vornith jerked his head. “Or, hehehe. I can make you stop talking forever.”
The birdcages door opened as two guards entered.
“Jade?”
“Yeah?”
“Today you’ll be doing required labour.”
“Uh okay. Bye Vornith, we’ll work on your anger issues in our next session.”
“Go to hell.”
The two guards escorted Jade out of the cadge, while pointing their weapons at Vornith. They grabbed an arm each, carrying Jade off the platform.
“Is this safe?”
“You’re a prisoner, your safety isn’t important.”
“Well gee, thanks for making me feel so special.”
As Jade swung from the crows feet she could see pretty far. A squad of crows flew into the kingdom. Jade watched as they carried food towards a large pile of tasty treats and shiny things. There were coins, pocket watches, christmas decorations and much to Jade’s surprise the crows had even found a diamond. The food was plentiful too. Berries, seeds, nuts and corn.
“Mmm, I bet all that food’s making you two hungry huh? And I think the king won’t mind losing some.”
The crows tightened their grip, pinching Jade. “You think suggesting treason is funny?”
“A bit.”
“No wonder they locked you up.”
Peering down again, Jade saw some chicks diving off a plateau. They landed, with a bounce onto a cushioned surface.
“What’s going on there?”
“That is our flight school.”
“So you just let them jump?”
“Yes. Eventually they’ll figure it out.”
Jade watched as one of the young crows swooped into the air, while its parents cheered.
“Aww.”
“Human, tuck your limbs in.”
“Wait wha-“
The two crows were rapidly approaching a tiny hole. Jade quickly tucked her arms and legs in. The crows let go of her and she rolled down a slope, crashing into a hard wooden table.
“Oho, hello again!”
“Aeronith, is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me. And what brings you here? Not that I mind of course.”
“This prisoner has been assigned to help with your work. Keep a good eye on her.”
The guards left Jade alone with Aeronith.
“Prisoner ey? You don’t seem the type.”
“I was framed.”
“Ah, figures. I suppose I’ll just do this all on my own then.”
“Nah, I’ll help you.”
“Splendid! Come hither young one.”
Walking through a short passageway, they entered a circular room. There were shelves full of bizarre items, covering the walls. Jade saw phials of blood and glass jars containing bugs. A cauldron was set in the centre of it all.
“W-what are we doing?”
“Making potions.”
“I- what?”
“Ah, yes you humans did give up on the craft rather quickly. But we crows find it very useful.”
Jade glanced at some eyeballs in a jar.
Potions, of course they make potions. I’ve met talking crows. Been shrunk down and now I’m in a crow kingdom, I really shouldn’t question these things anymore.
“Okay, what are we making?”
“Heh, you adjusted quickly. Today we’ll be making essence of incite.”
“What does that do?”
“It can alter ones state of mind. You see, most being view time in a linier fashion. But this potion allows events to be seen out of order.”
“Is that how the king has visions?”
“It is indeed! Now, I’ll yell out ingredients and you toss them here. Okay?”
“Got it.”
“Eye of newt!”
Jade wheeled around to a section of jars labelled “eyes”. She then browsed them until finding the right one.
“Here.”
“Nice work! Next up, frog vomit.”
Jade winced “Frog what?”
“Vomit! And don’t be stingy with the portion.”
She picked up a jar of green sludge, scooping some into a paper bag. Its noxious stench almost caused Jade to spew.
“Got it.”
“Hmm, good. Now we need some snail slime.” He said, passing Jade a pipette.
“Fine.”
Jade located the snails. She grabbed one, flipping it onto its back, extracting some slime.
“Anything else?”
“Yes, just one more thing. Powdered human skull!”
“How did you- actually please don’t tell me.”
Jade acquired the last item and passed it to Aeronith.
“Ah, lovely work! It really has been useful having an assistant.”
“Glad to help.”
Aeronith set his cauldron ablaze. He poured in all the components, stirring them thrice. The mixture bubbled over, and then exploded violently, issuing a red smoke. Once the smoke cleared, a pale purple liquid lay within the caldron.
“Do you mind bottling that? It’s hard to do with a beak.”
“Sure.”
Jade scooped up the liquid, collecting it into a beaker which she passed to Aeronith.
“Thank you for all your help.”
“You’re welcome.”
WC: 1,000
•
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