To Die For Love and Freedom

They were words that spoke of rebellion and freedom. Rebellion against those who had oppressed us for centuries and freedom to do and be what we wanted. They were words what promised a better life for ourselves and those who came after us. I fell in love with those words and with the man who spoke them. Those inspiring words from an inspiring man. Now, I stand condemned to death. Doomed to die for fighting for a better life, for rising up against those who would keep me down. He stands beside me, my lover and commander, along with many others who rose up with us. I pray our sacrifice will not be in vain. I pray that others will hear his words and fall in love with them and the desire for freedom.

Untitled Sci-Fi Story (1)

She stared at the man pinning her to the wall. He had been like a father to her. Her parents had died when she was young, and he had taken her in and had given her a home aboard his ship. He and his crew had treated her like family. When she was old enough, he had somehow arranged for her to join the Alliance's top naval academy. Now, this man held a knife- her knife, the one he had given her- to her throat. She desperately wanted to ask him why, but she dared not speak.

Recently, there had been rumors that he had turned terrorist. He and his crew had never been upstanding citizens, but they had never hurt innocent people or caused destruction for the fun of it. Her relation to him and his crew was not in her personnel file, and she had kept silent when her current captain and crew had been assigned the mission of hunting him and his crew down and bringing them in, alive if possible.

She had never believed the rumors. The man she knew would never have done those things, and his crew would not have gone along with him if he had. They were good people. Now, however, as she felt the knife tip, pressed to her throat, doubt tempted her. It had been ten years after all.

Finally, he spoke, "Are you alone?" His voice had an edge of steel to it.

She didn't answer right away, and he pressed the knife closer to her throat and repeated the question, "Are you alone? Did anyone come with you?"

She whispered, "No. I split from the others."

The knife lowered, and he spoke. This time, his voice was filled with relief and apology "Good. I'm sorry, kid. I had to be sure we were alone."

She took a deep breath and asked, "Do know why we're here? Is what they're saying true?"

He nodded his head, "Yes, to the first. As for the second, what do you think? You flew with me for years. If I tell you I was framed, will you believe me, in spite of all the evidence?"

With that last statement, he met and held her gaze. As she stared into his eyes, she realized that she would always believe him over any Alliance officer. He may operate in a grey area, but he had never lied to her or his crew, and he had always stood for what he believed in. She could count on one hand the people she had met in the past ten years who had done the same. Her current captain was a good man on first impression, but she did not know him enough to judge him against the man standing before her. As for their mission intelligence, they were operating on information that others had "gathered" and passed on. There was no way to verify its authenticity.

"I never doubted you." was her reply.

He smiled, although it was only a sad, half smile. "Have you told anyone your relationship to me?"

"No. It was left out of my file and I never found a good reason to bring it up."

"Good, you were always smart." he replied, and was silent for a moment. "We've missed you, you know. The ship's not the same without a little brat running around. Someone in the Alliance higher-ups is out to get us. We've been running secret Alliance support missions for the Three World Rebellion and someone wants us to stop. The reports are right that there's a traitor, but it's not me or my crew. You can't let anyone know you were with us. They'll just brand you a traitor too." He was silent again. After a moment he met her eyes again and spoke. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." she replied, without hesitation.

"Then please forgive me."

Before she could ask "For what?", she felt a sharp pain in her right side. She gasped and tried to move away, but his arm still held her against the wall. She felt her strength leaving with the warm blood now running down her side. She sagged.

He held her as she slid down the wall. When she had reached the floor, he cupped her face and turned it to him. "I'm sorry. It had to be done." Then, he kissed he forehead and left.

The Lost Pizza

It had been a good pizza too. Deep dish with steak, mushrooms, green peppers, and extra cheese. He had only eaten one piece when his door had been smashed in and the had fight ensued. During it's course, he wasn't exactly sure how or when, a fire had started. They had continued to fight until he had killed his attacker; but by then it was too late to save his apartment. Realizing this, he fled from it, pizza forgotten, and melted into the on-looking crowd and stood, watching it burn. There had been nothing special in the apartment, not pictures, keepsakes, or valuables. There had only been that poor, poor pizza.

The Humanity Problem

"And what's that?'

"You're human."

.................................."I don't get it. How is being human wrong?"

"It's not wrong to be human; but it's what's wrong with you. Tell me, if you were there was nothing wrong with you, what would you be?"

"Perfect?"

"Exactly; and if you were perfect, you would not be human. Humans make mistakes. Humans feel emotions. They lie, cheat, steel, abuse, fight, and all sorts of bad things. We're not perfect. We never will be; well, not until The King returns, but that's something else. Anyway, humans are wonderfully flawed creatures. No, it's not right what we do sometimes and we should always try to do and be better; but when you make a mistake, don't beat yourself up over it. You're human. When someone else makes a mistake or does something bad, don't beat them up either. They're human. No one is perfect."

Locksley, Potter, and Athos 1

"Robin, you have to listen to me." the man before her insisted.  His gun was pointed at the floor, but she knew from experience that he could have in pointed anywhere in seconds.

"I am listening, Potter." she replied. "I just don't believe you. I was there when he died. No one could have survived that kind of explosion. Please, put the gun down." She had to get him to surrender. The authorities outside had only given her five minutes to convince him to surrender peacefully. If he didn't surrender by then, he would end up dead. She would be alone.

"I can't." he responded. "Not unless you come with me. I can prove what I'm saying. I can prove they lied to us. Please, Robin."

The pleading look in his eyes almost convinced her to go. He must really believe Athos is still alive. But that was impossible, Athos was dead. She had seen the body. There was no way it had still been alive. Going with him would only add to the charges against him. She could only help him if he surrendered to her. "Potter, I'll make you a deal. You put the gun down and come with me. You can show me everything, and I'll promise I'll listen. No more running. No more hiding."

He let out a exasperated sigh, "You don't get it. The people we used to work for, they're part of the system you work for. They wanted us dead and I can prove it, but they'll never let me show you the proof. They'll kill me first. They-"

At that moment there was the sound of breaking glass, and Potter's voice cut off. He dropped gun, fell to his knees and then pitched onto his back.

Sara dashed over to him. "Potter!?!"  She knelt beside him and pulled his jacked open. The bullet had missed his heart, but only just. She pushed her hands onto the wound.

"Robin," he gasped, coughing up blood. "my left pocket - take the key." He grimaced in pain and coughed again as she she situated her hands to free one to get the key. She heard the doors behind her open and the sound of footsteps.

"Athos is alive." He gasped between more coughs. "I wouldn't lie to you about this." He coughed again and then lay still.

"Potter?" She started CPR. "Potter, please, hang on. You don't get to die too." He had to live.

She had barely started when she felt strong hands around her arms, pulling her away. She fought against them, but they were too strong. The owner of the hands pulled her into his chest. Some subconscious part of her brain recognized the person as her co-worker, David, and she let her self be pulled into his arms. She stayed there, curled in his arms until she couldn't cry anymore.

Dead Bodies. For Real.

Now there were two in the middle of her living room floor. She stared at them in horrified fascination, not really sure whether to scream or give in to her curiosity and move closer. There was an obscene amount of blood. It was pooling on her carpet and being seeped up into her couch through the blanket that had fallen half to the floor.

Finally, against her better judgment, she decided to embrace her curiosity. Careful not to step on or disturb anything, she loved watching cop shows, she moved closer to the nearest body. There was a hole in the middle of his forehead. What she could only guess was brain matter was splattered with the blood around his head. His face was frozen in a look of shock, eyes wide open and unfocused.  She moved to the other body. This one's eyes were closed. Staring at the body, it's eyes closed and the haphazard placing of the limbs, she reasoned that he had been wounded before the struggle in her apartment. Apparently, after struggling with and shooting the other man, he passed out and bleed to death.

After staring at the bodies for a few more moments, she called the police. Then, she went down to the building's coffee shop to wait. As she waited, she pondered all the reasons of why and how as she sipped her coffee. In her mind, of all the questions these two bodies proposed, the most disturbing one was, "Why were they in her apartment?"

Hello and Goodbye

The boy pushed the boulder off of the girl trapped beneath. Her left leg was bent at an awkward angle, and her shirt was covered in blood. He checked her pulse. It was there, but only faintly. Her breathing was shallow and pained. He put his hands over the hole in her shirt, applying pressure to the wound underneath. She let out a weak groan and her eyelids fluttered. A moment later she opened her eyes. She focused on him and opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

"Shhh, don't try to talk." he said to her. "Everything's going to be okay."

As the last word left his lips, she gave a weak cough which was followed by a deeper one, this one bringing up blood. He shifted so he could prop her head up on his legs and still put pressure on the wound. He know he was fighting a losing battle, but he had to try.

"Who are you?" asked a weak voice.

He glanced down at her, "My name is Romio." he replied. "Can you tell me yours?"

She closed her eyes, as if she was trying to remember, and took a shuddering breath. "Juliyett."

He smiled, "I like that name."

She coughed, more blood coming up. "I like yours too." she responded, her voice barely audible. Then her body seemed to relax, her head leaning into his legs more. He checked her pulse. She was gone.

The Hidden Cave

a cave up ahead, but all he saw was a rock wall. He checked his compass and and did a mental walk through of his trek thus far. He hadn't taken a wrong turn. Great. The cave had to be here. He couldn't go back home empty handed. It had been a uphill battle just to get the funds and permits to go on this trip. So many people had tried to stop or discourage him from going. He had to come back with something. He  sat down on a nearby boulder and pulled out the worn journal that paired with the map. As he read, the sun shifted the shadows. He looked at the rock wall and noticed a shadow that shouldn't have been there. He walked over to the wall and took a closer look at the shadow and a moment later let out a shout of relief and excitement. The cave was hidden behind a boulder that blended in seamlessly with the wall behind it, unless viewed from the right angle or the right time of day.

The Cursed Chest

 The men stared at the chest. The lid was covered in an archaic script, but every man knew what the script said. They had been taught "The Cursed Chest" poem since childhood. It was meant to deter men such as themselves from opening the chest. It translated:

"Beware, ye fools, who open this chest.
Beware, ye fools, of what happens next.

Open this chest and you invite strife.
Beware, ye fools, you'll forfeit your life.

Open this chest and death you invite.
Beware, ye fools, you won't last the night."

One of them spoke up, "So, Captain, do we open it?"

Supervillain "Honey Do"

To Do:

1. Feed dragon
2. Repair evil robots
3. Practice monologing
4. Practice evil laugh
5. Finish evil potion from yesterday
6. Torture prisoners
7. Work on dark magic spellbook
8. Fine-tune plans for global domination and destruction
9. Write manifesto and demands
10. Publish threats
11. Look through henchman applications
12. Prep tomorrow's menacing outfit
13. Pick up:
1. eye if newt
2. toe of giant
3. wing of bat
4. graveyard dirt
5. bundle of human hair
6. quart of blood
7. milk
8. cookies

A Heavy Choice

I stared at the list of names. All of these people, every single one, was a stranger. Most importantly, every single one was dead; and they were dead because of me. I was my fault, and yet.... it wasn't. I'd had decision to make. No matter what I did, people were going to die. The question had been, "How many?" I tried not to make the decision, be all "smart-alek" and going with "no one;" but people had died anyway. The one forcing the decision on me had reminded me that the question was "How many? Would it be a  small handful of unknown, but no less important, people? Or, a larger group, who's size was the equivalent of a small nation? How many people would die?" Finally, I chose. Heaven help me, I chose. "The needs of the many..." and all that. What else was I supposed to do? Let a millions of people die, or only a couple hundred? I am not proud of my choice, but I wouldn't change it. The decision was made, and I have to live with it. You judge me, but if the choice had been yours, what would you have done?

Glowing Hands

I stared at my hands, basking in the soft glow they emitted. My arms tingled as the glowing design worked its way up my arms from my palms. The design had randomly appeared years ago, glowing whenever it felt like it. I had finally learned to control when they glowed. I could now hide the spidery vine that reached up to my shoulders at will. I didn't have to wear long sleeves in the middle of the summer anymore. While I hadn't figured out exactly what the marks meant, or what they did, I wasn't afraid of them randomly lighting up a room. Maybe they are a gift.

Insubordination

"That's still not an excuse for her behavior."

"What behavior, sir? She did what was needed and saved lives."

"She disrespected a superior officer, disobeyed a direct order from said superior officer, assaulted an unarmed civilian, blew up a building thereby endangering civilian lives, and freed a criminal from custody."

"That's one way of looking at it, yes sir."

"One way of looking at it?! What in heavens man! How else should her actions be looked at?"

"Well, the criminal she freed was a wrongly accused man who was instrumental in today's success, for it was a success mind you. The building she blew up was an enemy stronghold that was more of a danger the lives of those civilians if left standing that it was being blown up. The unarmed civilian was an assassin sent to kill our Council Leader. Sir."

"What about her disrespect and disobedience of a superior?"

"Since you asked, sir, if the superior had been so superior, he would have taken her actions himself instead of leaving them to be carried out by a junior officer."

Unfair or Merciful?

but as was often the case, good intentions had not been enough. He had done everything he could to see that she survived. He could see no way anyone could have predicted this. Yet, here it was. She was dead and he was alive. It was not supposed to have turned out this way. He had been the one supposed to die. That would have been the "fair" thing to happen, for he deserved death. All the things he had done in his lifetime pointed to it. She on the other had had been innocent. Maybe it was a good thing. Now she would never have to know or experience how cruel the world really was.

A "Guardian Angel"

I take a deep breath as the figure exits the building. They are so beautiful. The way they walk, the way the dress- absolutely exquisite. I follow them, discretely of course (they can't know about me just yet, the time is not right) as they walk. I know where they are going but I still follow behind anyway. I pretend that we are walking together. Their phone rings and they answer it. I feel a stab of jealousy. They should be talking to me. Their intoxicating voice should be echoing through my ears, not the ears of someone else who does not appreciate and love them the way I do. They laugh, a heavenly sound, and the jealousy renews. They should be laughing at my jokes. I follow them until they return home, watching and absorbing their every move. The jealousy still smolders. It has been long enough. Tonight, I will make myself known. I will let them know that they have a "guardian angel" that loves them and is watching over them.

A Hell On Earth

It was so strong that she tasted it in her mouth. The carnage was overwhelming. Bloody instruments and tables lay scattered through out the room. Buckets filled with blood and other fluids were also placed here and there. A half mutilated body lay on one table, still strapped down. It was nauseating. Beyond the room, there was a long hallway that had been converted into a type of cell block. The smell of unwashed bodies mixed with the stench of decomposing ones. Some of the inhabitants of the cells were able to come to come to there doors, begging for release. Others, many with gangrenous wounds simply remained where they were. If there was a hell on earth, this was it.

100 Sentences- Third Person POV

1. He grabbed the bag and ran out the door.
2. She walked like an angel
3. The dog sat at the door, waiting on it's master.
4. She cried until the tears no longer came.
5. The pizza delivery man was a vampire.
6. No one ever came to her house. 
7. She sat quietly in the corner.
8. The monster was smaller than they had expected.
9. The cat spoke.
10. He stared at the paper in shock.
11.  The man smiled at her.
12. They landed lightly on the roof.
13. The child looked at her with sad eyes and began to cry.
14. All of a sudden, the panther attacked.
15. The ship attached itself and set the air-lock.
16. A warning bell sounded.
17. The soldier saluted the lowering flag.
18. People came from far and wide.
19. She loved cheesecake.
20. The wolf had dissolved into a man.
21. He picked up the artifact gently, as if it might shatter at the slightest touch.
22. The mirror was fogged from the smoke and heat.
23. The computer buzzed, beeped, and died.
24. Her hands shook at the sight of it.
25. He took off down the lane.
26. "Good morning," it said.
27. The dog growled and showed its teeth.
28. He mounted the horse and rode off.
29. A body lay in a pool of blood.
30. The diamond sparkled in the sunlight.
31. The cat flicked its tail.
32. He grabbed the gun and started shooting.
33. The paper was crisp and white.
34. The shop was filled with sweets.
35. The plane took a sharp dive and leveled out.
36. She hugged the child with all her strength.
37. They looked at each other and burst into laughter.
38. The engines were on fire.
39. The man dropped to his knees, clutching his side.
40. In his hands, he held his grandfather's sword.
41. The floor writhed with snakes.
42. Pigs started flying.
43. The apple was red and looked delicious.
44. As she looked at the music, she stated humming.
45. Her work was almost done.
46. He glanced at his friend, grateful that he was there.
47. The phone rang, shattering the silence.
48. He wrote faster than the eye could follow.
49. The baby started crying immediately.
50. The song was sad and wistful.
51. The rain and hail pelted the windshield.
52. The journal pages were spattered with blood.
53. The glass shattered when it hit the floor.
54. Arms out, she stepped onto the ledge.
55. The horse bucked and whinnied, then bolted.
56. The car exploded and he was pushed to the ground.
57. The knife drew blood.
58. Her smile lit up the room. 
59. Her mother looked at her with disapproving eyes.
60. The peace was shattered by a scream.
61. Her dress sparkled and shone as it caught the light.
62. The town was deserted.
63. The contents of her purse spilled across the tile.
64. The sound of steps echoed down the corridor.
65. Strong hands gripped him and pinned his arms to his sides.
66. The dog cocked it's head in an expression of curiosity. 
67. The cat curled in his lap and began to purr.
68. Leaves littered the walkway.
69. He read the letter and his heart shattered.
70. He was covered in mud from head to toe.
71. The child giggled and dashed off.
72. He caught her as she fell.
73. The alley smelled of garbage and urine.
74. Her eyes started to droop.
75. He tried to move, but only succeeded in increasing his pain. 
76. They were not the results she had expected.
77. Her hand was cold in his.
78. The apartment had been ransacked.
79. The girl was dressed in rags.
80. Adrenaline flooded his system.
81. the gasoline soaked car burst into flames.
82. The boy smiled at her and she blushed.
83. The game was hard, but she learned quickly.
84. The teacher looked up when she heard the snickering. 
85. The man in the coat grabbed her arm and whispered, "Run."
86. She fondled te pendant absentmindedly.
87. The song touched her soul and echoed in her heart.
88. The paramedics started CPR.
89. The sword cut through the silk like water.
90. Loud music asulted her ears.
91. The silence of the empty house was oppressive and depressing.
92. She screamed when she saw the carnage inside.
93. The tea was hot and refreshing.
94. He slipped into the next pose effortlessly. 
95. He grabbed her and hugged her tight.
96. She had tried to find sleep, but got lost on the way.
97. Th field was filled with flowers in full bloom.
98. The stone was cool and damp beneath her feet.
99. The bag ripped and her groceries spilled to the ground.
100. He closed the book and returned it to the shelf.

Unfamiliar Home

She just stood there, staring. Occasionally she would take a few steps and then stop. She would then pick up an object, look at it as if seeing for the first time, and then put it back. When she encountered pictures, she would stare at them like she was trying to remember who was in them. She also muttered to herself. Nothing intelligible, but muttering none the less.

"This is a lovely home. Is it yours?" she finally asked.

I stared at her, holding back tears. "No, Mom. It's yours. This is your house."

"Oh." she replied, and then looked at me with a strange expression. "Why did you call me 'Mom'?"

Pain and Memory

Mr. Grey had told her that she had been unconscious for three days, and missing for two weeks before that. She had simply disappeared one night after stating that she was going to her dorm's gym. Two weeks later, her friend, Pasha had found her lying in the floor if the entry way. She was dressed, although not in the clothes she had left in, but her feat were bare and bloody. She had no memory of how she had gotten there or where she had been for those two weeks. Every time she tried to remember what happened, s searing pain shot through her head. If she tried to press on through, the pain and pressure only got worse. The doctors said it was probably due to the fact that she had sustained two concussions. She also had three broken ribs, two cracked ribs, busted knuckles, lacerations on her face and arms, and the bottoms of her feet had been scraped raw. They said that, from appearances, she had at some point gotten into a fight barefoot on rough terrain. They said that the broken bones and cuts would heal, but they could not tell her for sure whether her memory would return.

Only a Name

Literally. Up and down his arms, across his chest. Even all over his back and legs. They were written in different styles and sizes, but the were all my name. I knew this because no one spells their name the way I do, well, no one on their right mind anyway. Thanks Mom, whoever who are.

"Why do you have my name written all over your body?" I asked, dreading the answer.

He have me a sheepish look and answered, "Honestly, I have no idea. "

"What do you mean you have no idea?!?!" I shouted and he flinched. "It's all over you! That doesn't happen by accident."

"They kinda just......appear." He answered, not looking at me anymore.

"They just appear." I echoed. My voice dripped with sarcasm and skepticism.

"Ever since I turned eighteen they've been showing up. No explanation, no reason. There's not even a set number of days in between when they appear. No set time either."

I staggered and flopped down in a chair. This was too much. Not only was there some guy that had my name written all over him; but he didn't eve know why it was there. What in the world was going on? This was like some crazy sci-fi scenario. This couldn't be happening. It-

"Uh, excuse me," his words brought me out of my racing thoughts, "can I put my clothes on now?"