Tea Time

Tea Time

I bring in the tray with a steaming teapot and two gold-rimmed cups. John throws me an amused looked. „Tea? Really?“ He’s happy to throw me out of my house. I’m just a joke to him.

„Courtesy. One last time. Before…“ I put down the tray on the coffee table. Tears sting in my eyes. I cannot force them back down.

„You brought it on yourself!“ He does not hide his annoyance. I nod and pour in the hot liquid into the cups. He takes a sip. „Mmm, good.“

I do not drink it, I just stare. „It’s monkshood.“

 

Meet Steve Garner, the rotten golden apple

A Chuck Wendig Prompt - create a character (about 250 words)
Hint: The man answering the phone is Steve Garner.

“`Llo?” The man answering the phone sounds drained. His crumpled voice seeps through the landline.

“Hi. I am Vincent.”

“So?” Drowsiness dissipates slowly, “nobody’s perfect.”

“You’re looking for me.”

“Am I?” A soft slapping noise in the distance, “enlighten me. Please.”

“Do you remember Mr. Stanculescu and his two daughters?” Vincent waits for a response. No recognition on the other end, so he continues, “you know, the strange girl with the red mane and green eyes, one missing upper incisor? Was all over the newspapers.” Nothing. “The one legged kid, who disappeared for three days?” Silence. “The cabin at Lake Eden?”

“Oh. Lake Eden! Of course!” The voice tightens, picks up momentum and rhythm. “I remember laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe, just imagine that. A one legged kid hopping around on the shore and the woods, like an oversized toad– ”

“I brought her back.” The amused chuckle fades into stunned silence.

“You? You– ” The man stutters in disbelief, “did that?” A sharp clacking sound echoes. Porcelain hitting porcelain, or maybe teeth hitting teeth. “How fast can you be here?Where can we meet?”

“You remember him now, huh? He says it’s important…”

“Yes, absolutely.” The breathed voice cracks. It is a bit too fast, for someone still needing to negotiate a fee. The man proceeds to attack. “May I invite you? No limits, just tell me what you need. A room, a flight, cars, booze, women… Men. You name it.”

how to disrupt “the sacred silence” and ruin mankind

- Part 1
Little did Harold know that the sneeze he was about to experience would bring about the end of humanity and the world as he knew it.
– Part 2 –

Sneeze minus twelve minutes.

*

„Aye. Fully stocked and fish all ‘ye catch. Fresh water for a month.” Lieutenant Wyld grinned his crooked yellow rum grin. They already were on open sea on their way to who knows where.

“Gorgo is fine ‘n ready for Dead-man-Bay, Captain.“ Lieutenant Lazar nodded a short official nod.

Behind them cadet Brak did everything to hide his boredom and the yawn on its way. He didn’t look at Captain Paine directly, but heard him smile. He hated that insanely wide smile. Why don’t they forbid officers to smile? This was no vessel of the royal navy, more like a bathtub with a motor. Was he the only one, who thought, it made  no sense to stick to their ranks? But they did anyway. It was a habit, like the stealing.

In moments like these he felt regret punching his heart with a tiny cold sweaty fist. 

Several hours later, some more miles further out on open sea, Harold Brak was in the galley eating, Captain Edward Paine studied some old maps in his cabin.  Lt. Ian Wyld and Lt. Pete Lazar were playing cards on deck, not giving a fish’s tail about heavy sea.

Harold didn’t know where they were heading, only that it was an island, not inhabited anymore. He overheard Wyld speaking about big money and a vault. Personally, he didn’t believe in treasures. There was no treasure in existence for someone like him.

He looked at his hands, short strong fingers, puffy from work, jagged nails with a line of dirt under them. The hands of a human rat…

„Brak! Paine’s looking for you. Move. ASAP!“ The speaker barked in Wyld’s voice and Harold rolled his eyes. There was no way he was going to get into a rush. Time was always on his side, time and locks. His dinner sat quietly in front of him. Everyday’s special meant leftovers. No one accompanied him. The galley was just big enough to not to stub your elbow while cooking, and hardly anyone else ate there, except him.

Being burdened with cooking, he knew every drawer and every knife in there. Knifes. The thought made him break out in sweat.

The leftover special burned through his guts, maybe the fish was already bad. Oh, he felt the heartburn coming and welcomed it with a guttural sound deep from his bowels. The burp didn’t echo. Harold grimaced a tiny bit relieved. Even if Paine was looking for him, he was going to eat his dinner. In peace. At least he was going to be taking his time. There was no need to hurry. It wasn’t as if they didn’t knew where he was and what he did.

„Brak.“ The voice over the com was now low and calm. Paine’s voice dripped in his ears. „When ready, come and see me at my office.“ Dry. Harold’s mouth was nothing but bone dry. Instantly. He hated what he had to do for Paine.

Harold’s heart made an attempt to jump through his throat, but his lungs wrestled it back down, kicking it back into its place. He wheezed and searched his pockets for his keys.

All doors on this ship were unlocked. He had made sure of that, so that Paine wouldn’t come looking for him. His fingers told his brain, that the keychain was too light. Something was missing.

His sweaty fingers clenched around his spoon. Paine, his personalized nightmare, was calling for him.

- Part 3

how to disrupt “the sacred silence” and ruin mankind

This is a Chuck Wending writing challenge prompt thingy. 
See here X.
- Part 1 -

Sneeze minus twelve minutes.

*

Little did Harold know that the sneeze he was about to experience would bring about the end of humanity and the world as he knew it. Nobody could hold it on him though. It was an allergy. Let’s be honest, such primitive reflexes were constantly ruining so many things we just failed to notice. Even in times of space travel.

„Estimated arrival in 3754 virtual earth days. Sufficient food and oxygen supplies. Nothing to report on board of Gorgo Beta.“ The writing gleamed on all monitors, then faded away. Harold sighed boredly.

The supervising AI of the ship was bored too. It checked the hatches on the airlocks, the cabin pressure in all units, analyzed atmosphere levels of oxygen and carbon dioxide, then checked the algae tanks and the drinking water quality. This took two seconds, then it wondered what else it could check. It liked checking a lot and designed several auto-run analysis-programs to embed into its subroutines. It calibrated all of its sensors, and triangulated their current position. The Gliese-System 667 C was still far away. It thought of its human guests and located them.

Harold Brack was in the officers’ mess eating, Captain Edward Pain was in his unit doing research, Doctor Wellington worked on her psychology thesis in the medical unit, and both engineers Lt. Ian Wild and Lt. Peter Lazarus were playing cards in the lab.

„Brack! For the last time! Pain’s looking for you. Move your ass to sublevel B corridor three and start mopping!“ The speaker barked and Harold rolled his eyes. There was no way he was going to get into a rush. Time was always on his side, time and locks. His dinner sat quietly in front of him. Grenade chilli. No one accompanied him in the officers’ mess. Due to gaseous hazard? No, he was alone due to his obscure working and break times, also nobody else shared his weird napping habits.

Sublevel B meant the algae tanks, the home of their oxygen supply. What unearthly mess did they manage to fabricate for him? The thought made him break out in sweat.

The chilli burned nicely through his guts. Oh, he felt the heartburn coming and welcomed it with a guttural sound deep from his bowels. The burp echoed. Harold grinned satisfied with himself. Even if Pain was looking for him, he was going to eat his dinner. In peace. At least he was going to be taking his time. There was no need to hurry. It wasn’t as if they didn’t knew where he was and what he was doing. After all, the place was crammed with cameras. He waved his middle finger at one of them and continued eating. His ears were ringing, he could almost hear them snickering, in front of the monitors, having a good laugh. The joke was on him alright, on his red face, the sweating, his obesity…

„Brack.“ The voice over the com was now low and calm. Pain’s voice. „When ready, come and see me at my office.“ Dry. Harold’s mouth wasn’t burning, but bone dry. Instantly. This could only mean trouble. He hated what he had to do for Pain.

Harold’s heart made an attempt to jump through his throat, but his lungs wrestled it back down, kicking it back into its place. He wheezed and searched his pockets for his puffer. All doors on this ship were not locked. He had made sure of that, so that Pain wouldn’t come looking for him. His fingers told his brain, that the puffer was too light. Any asthmatic person could tell you about the terror of too light puffers. He wasn’t using the inhalator properly, but that was not the point. He wasn’t needing it, just a reflex to calm down.

His sweaty fingers clenched around his keychain. Pain, his personalized nightmare, was calling for him.

*

part 2;

– part 3

Note: 
Story parts do belong to each other - 
odds to the odds, evens to the evens

Janus

I can’t stop myself from looking at him – snow white skin, hair, dark as chocolate, topaz eyes borrowed from a bird of prey, soft lips, bowed in a mischievous arch – vibrant memories, which won’t  let me sleep, won’t let me close my eyes. Even if I do, I’ll open them up, asap. Feeling his breath, his gaze peeled to whatever there is to be to be noticed in my face.

Even in the darkness of the room, drawn curtains, and the half moon shining… Even in the solid black mist his eyes seems to glow in that strange orange golden light. He seems to emit it, his faces, his mouthes, his shiny teeth… All screaming curiosity.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I´ve never seen someone fall asleep before.”

“What? Never? Why?”

“I never sleep. So I’m curious.”

“Suit yourself.” Indeed, I’m exhausted, and ´bout to fall asleep. “So you never sleep, hm? Do you – ever dream?” My lips move lazily. The bed sheets still hot and messed up. Feeling heavy on my skin.

“Yes. But mine are different from yours. I do not lose myself doing so.” His voice softens, moves closer somewhere near my left temple. “And when you’ll lose yourself, you’ll be empty – a living, breathing hollow shell. Just waiting.” His voice sounds now like a whisper, moves suddenly from my left to the right ear… Of course -forgot- two mouthes. Two tongues. Strangely, they sound the same.

Can’t open my eyes, sleep burns inside of them. It is a soft warm black, that keeps dripping, dissolving into my mind. “Mhm. What for?” Words drop out hazily, I just breathe them out.

“For me, to do as I please… Shhh, now. Go back to sleep…”

Do I wanna know?

Do I wanna know?

A Chuck Wending prompt – RANDOM SONG TITLE STORY CHALLENGE

Song title: “Do I wanna know?” by Arctic Monkeys

*

I ducked under his arm and bolted for the door.

I tried.

He had me, and yanked me back. Right away. I had no chance…

He dragged me to the farthermost corner of the room. His grip in my hair was so strong. Much stronger than I expected. And he was incredibly fast. I didn’t even see him moving. I thrashed helplessly, but was pulled back so fast and so easily, as if I had no weight at all.  The stammered “gomen nasai” jittered from my lips, dropped into the liquifying day, without visible effect.

Continue reading “Do I wanna know?”