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  1. Torana
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    Torana Contributing Member Contributor

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    Weekly Short Story Contest (07)

    Discussion in 'Bi-Weekly Short Story Contest Archives' started by Torana, Aug 23, 2007.

    Short Story
    Contest
    07





    Please post your entries in this thread, and I'll do the rest.
    Good luck to you all.
    There is a ten percent leniency for over the word limit entries. ​


    Theme: Courtesy of Night Haunter
    Theme would be Cyber Punk.
    Here are a couple of links to help you along with this weeks theme. Take it in any direction that you would like. Just stick to the theme.


    cyberpunk

    Cyberpunk - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

    Purpose: Try to devolp the literal elemnt of theme, like the "theme" in a book report, 'the author's underlying messege to the reader.' Time for an update? - Writing Forums



    Length: 800 - 3000 words.
    Start: 22/08/07
    End: 28th

    (The word count for this contest has been increased after multiple requests due to the nature of the theme. I hope that no one else has a problem with this at all and if there is please contact me via pm only. Posts about this in this thread will be deleted. Thankyou for your patience.)
     
  2. TheOnly13
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    TheOnly13 Senior Member

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    The theme is difficult. I don't know if I'll be entering this one, I can't think of anything, lol
     
  3. Domoviye
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    Domoviye Contributing Member

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    I've got something. I just need some time to actually write it. So I'll try to enter, but no promises.
     
  4. adamant
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    adamant Contributing Member Contributor

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    The only thing I don't like about it is that we just wrote something regarding the effects of technology... though, it's almost has to be dystopic this time.

    Should prove interesting... and I'm finally going to win a damned contest!
     
  5. Heather Louise
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    Heather Louise Contributing Member Contributor

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    good luck with that Adamant. maybe another one this week i might not be entering, it looks really hard and i don't really get what you have to do. anyways, i will have an attempt at it, and if it is wrong, just remove it. :p
    Heather
     
  6. xxkozxx
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    xxkozxx Active Member

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  7. Heather Louise
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    Heather Louise Contributing Member Contributor

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    thanks Koz, that really helps :D
     
  8. Raven
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    Raven Banned

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    Kytunious 9x3




    The small imperial shuttle descended from the blood stained sky into the burning city followed by the black deathwatch thunderhawk. Both vessels slowly flew over the burning buildings that once made the capital city Myrade. The flames burnt high up, and many of the buildings were reduced to rubble. The wind blew the flames across the city liking running water from a waterfall. The ground had been ripped apart from massive explosions from some kind of weapon. The thought that there maybe Survivors was now unlikely from the mass destruction. Both vessels slowly flew towards the city’s centre to discover large crater holes, that had disintegrated everything. Smoke blew up high from the craters. Both the Imperial craft and the thunderhawk began to move their way past the high rise of flames and the fog of drifting black smoke, and stated making their way past into the outskirts of the death filled city of Myrade.

    Captain Smitts sat in the cockpit behind the two naval pilots looking in sheer horror at the site of still burning bodies that lay across the empty roads leading out from Myrade. “What the hell did this?” He muttered under his breath.
    The two pilots tilted the nose of the imperial vessel to face down, to get a closer look. The closer they got the more cracks they noticed within the ground. It was as though something so powerful had shaken the ground apart it had forced a multiple of earthquakes. Some of the trees still burnt with raging flames and others were just smouldering.

    Both vessels moved away from Myrade searching from the red stained sky any signs of something that could help them understand why the cities of Kytunious 9x3 had been destroyed. Both vessels searched for an hour looking for anything. Until they approached an Imperial guard base located thirty miles from Myrade.
    As both the thunderhawk and the small imperial craft approached the base, they noticed it was still standing, and seemed to look deserted from any visible signs of life.
    The base itself was only small with two watch towers one positioned at either side and surrounded by razor wire. One large building and three smaller ones, and six bunkers.
    The com beeped inside the cockpit of the imperial craft. Smitts leant over to answer the hale. “Smitts here.”

    “We’ll put down in that base. Follow us down.” Came Lykran’s voice.

    Smitts watched the black thunderhawk descend into the centre of the base, watching their thrusters cut out and then saw the vessel touch down, kicking up a fog of dust and gravel in its wake. Still watching he took an interest in the black marines disembark slowly walking down the now open ramp into the complex.
    “OK you heard the man follow them in.” He ordered tapping the pilot’s shoulder.

    Brother Kajun was the first to step from the thunderhawk clenching his heavy bolter with both hands slowly taking up a defensive position next to the thunderhawk. Fontain followed him off, holding his psychic staff in one hand and a bolt pistol in the other. Sergeant Ivan followed him down holding his bolter forwards with both hands.
    “OK brothers lets see what we have got here.” He said, as the others followed him.

    Captain Lykran approached the Imperial craft once its side doors opened up followed by a seven man squad stepping down. All the guards’ men were armed with their hell guns and attired in their Cadian karskin armour, green with shades of camouflage. Captain Smitts approached Lykran removing his mask to show his bare face.

    “Have your men secure a defensive around both ships. I’ll lead my men into that command HQ.” Lykran explained pointing to the tallest building.

    “As you wish.”

    Lykran turned back to his kill team.
    “OK Merrik have the men spread out and hold ground surrounding the ships.” Smitts ordered.

    Both squads stopped momentarily from the sound of the howling wind picking up. “Great the heebee geebees now.” Connelly whispered into Merriks ear.
    Pieces of gravel and dust lifted from the ground and blew across the compound with the howling wind.

    The Deathwatch marines followed Captain Lykran across the compound, their heavy feet crunching through the gravel blown about by the wind. The doors to the command head quarters flapped open and shut through the blowing wind. Bang, clang. Slamming with the motion and the sound carried away with the blowing. Lykran entered the building first followed by Sergeant Ivan. Inside it was all grey shattered glass lay across the concrete floor. Ivan readied his bolter for any sudden and unwanted surprises. Lykran took hold of his power sword with both hands firmly gripping the handle. Slowly both men walked further into the building. The lights flickered on and off making it a little harder to see. A ball of bright blue light lit up the dark corners were there where no windows. Lykran and Ivan turned to see it was Fontain holding a psychic ball of electric in his hand. Though Fontain still had a black hood covering his face, Ivan noticed his eyes were almost visible from the bright light. Lykran made his way slowly towards the stairs carefully watching each step he took. Both Ivan and Fontain looked about the walls to see large stains of dried blood and dozens of las gun impact marks. The marks were even in the over turned tables and desks, yet still no sign of life.

    “What has happened here? And where the hell are the bodies?” Ivan muttered.

    Lykran slowly walked up the stairs crunching his heavy feet and crushing shards of glass on his way up, then stopped to listen to the sound of creaking. Fontain dispersed with the ball of light in his palm and followed Ivan up the stairs behind Lykran. Behind the three marines Kajun stopped at the bottom of the stairs aiming his gigantic heavy bolter up. Brother Affern of the Scythes stepped past him holding his bolter forwards and slowly followed the others up the stairs, stopping at Lykran’s side. He pulled out his auspex and looked down on its screen. “We have life.” He muttered in a low voice.
    “Your up first be mindful. Ivan you follow Brother Affern. Be ready.”
    “Aye.” Ivan responded.

    Both marines slowly made their way to the top, stopping in the upper hallway. Ivan looked around the fin corridor for signs of sudden attack, nothing. Affern spun around the rear of the hallway to hear the sudden sound of slamming. He took a firm grip of his bolter and slowly made his way to the flapping door. Ivan covered his back, as Lykran approached the top to cover his.

    Affern stopped at the wooden door to slam shut in his face.
    “OK Brothers that wasn’t the wind.” Lykran questioned.

    The deathwatch marines looked at the three doors all now shut. “OK something else seems to be up here with us.” Lykran added.
    Fontain pushed his way past the others and opened the door to what looked like the com room. The others stood in the door way bolters at the ready. The entire room had been smashed to pieces the com panels were broken and had been ripped out then thrown across the room. The windows had been smashed leaving shattered glass across the floor. Fontain entered the room stepping over one of the broken chairs, crunching his feet on the glass. He felt something nudge his head and shoulder guard. Looking up he saw seven human bodies hanging from the ceiling, they’d all been skinned. Lykran looked away in disgust to see a shadow move by the far corner of the room. A ball blue ball of light emerged from Fontain’s hand at the ready. A small child like creature stepped into the light looking innocently at the Deathwatch marines. “What the fragg.” Affern muttered.

    The creature was small and the size of an eight year old child, and naked except for a small cover rapped around its wait. The creature’s stomach was slightly bloated and covered in sweat. The back of its cranium was extremely large and bold as though it were some kind of psychic. Lykran looked hard at its squashed up face features and its red eyes looking back at him. “What in the name of Guilliman is that?” Ivan questioned.

    The creature tilted its head to one side and raised one of its hands to face the Ultramarine. A second later some kind of energy emerged from the four fingered hand and slammed into Ivan’s chest throwing him back against the wall. Without a word Brother Affern opened fire on the thing. A volley of bolter shells flew from the barrel into the creature’s upper torso. It fell back against the wall in a shower of its own blood from the blast wounds. Ivan picked himself up from the floor to fire of a volley off his own bolter but was blown back again, only this time he slammed through the wall creating a shower of plaster and brick fragments from the weight of his armoured body.
    Fontain released the ball of light into the creature’s face, knocking up against the wall hard. Both Lykran and Affern moved to let Kajun open up a round of heavy bolter fire spraying shell after shell into the abysmal creature. A second later the back of its head exploded across the back wall.
    “What now.” Affern asked looking to Lykran for orders.

    “We leave and quick.” Fontain answered.

    The others looked to him for a reason.
    “I’ve seen this before. And I tell you we will die if we don’t leave now.” He finished.

    Sergeant Merriks attention was caught by the sight of hundreds of little dots appearing from behind the barbed wire surrounding the base. “Captain look.” He said pointing his finger at the sight. Captain Smitts looked up to see the same only now their appeared to be thousands of the dots. And slowly advancing the closer the moved the more they looked like children. Trooper Connelly and Peta approached the barbed wire holding their hell guns forwards to take a closer look Peta removed her helmet revealing her shaven head she dropped the helmet to the floor in shock from the surprising
    numbers. “Captain they look like children. Maybe their survivors.”

    Captain Smitts stood between both the Cadian Karskins to witness more and more appear. “The fragg they are.” He said softly.
    “GUNS at the ready.”

    Peta looked back at Smitts trying to work out why he was so quick to give the order. “Sir.” She finally said. Captain Smitts stepped back from the barbed wire, holding his hell gun tightly in his hands. “Gun at the ready Peta.” He ordered.

    She did as ordered but not fully aware of why, to her the small creature’s approaching the small base looked like small children. “I don’t understand.” She finally said.

    “I’ve read a report on creature’s appearing like that what ever it is they do anyone who engages them in a battle seems to end up dead. And I have to say they fit the profile of those creatures’s I’ve read about.” He explained backing up against the small Imperial craft. “OK men we’re gonna show these Astartes that we are not afraid and we gonna show them what we do best.” Merrik bellowed dropping down on one knee to aim his hellgun. “FIRE” he bellowed.

    A second later the seven Karskins opened fire, the hellgun shots flew into the small abominations.

    All the Cadians went down on one knee to take a better aim at their targets, as each fire they hit one of the creatures, but not enough to stop them.
    A second later and the strange looking beings stopped moving forwards and stood still. Captain Smitts signalled the other guardsmen to stop firing. The wind began to howl again blowing bits of gravel up in the air and into the Cadians Peta blocked har bare face from the gravel blowing upwards. As the wind howled they heard a low pitch hum.

    “mmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmmm.” The sound came from the creatures.

    Captain Lykran emerged from the command Head quarters followed by the other deathwatch marines. “Kajun cover us.” He ordered.

    Brother Kajun stopped in his tracks and let loose a roaring screech from his heavy bolter, the shells thudded into the creatures.

    “Byrne start the thunderhawk up.” Lykran bellowed over the now raging wind with its loud howling, followed by the sound of the humming.

    Brother Byrne of the Mortifactors leaped across the complex and dash up the thunderhawks loading ramp. Lykran ran across to the Cadian Karskins. “Captain Smitts may I make a suggestion that you retreat your men from here.” At this point Lykran had to use all his vocal codes enhanced strength to speak above the loudness of the roaring wind blowing up bits of red sand and gravel.

    Both Captain Smitts and Captain Lykran turned to watch both Sergeant Ivan and Brother Affern blown back across the compound to land on their backs, by some powerful force of energy.

    “WHAT ARE THEY.” Smitts bellowed, over the wind even to hear his own voice.

    “Evil.” Fontain warned.

    The Blood Drinkers Librarian raised his staff to produce some kind of shield covering the seven Karskins. “I suggest you save your questions and leave while you can.” No sooner had Fontain finished his words when the Imperial Craft was lifted up and thrown across the compound into the command Head Quarters. Followed by a loud explosion, the building and vessel both combust together into a large ball of flames, throwing fragments of brick and metal across the air. “Tell me that wasn’t the wind captain.” Smitts asked.
    Lykran looked at the small beings as they started to advance slowly towards the barbed wire again. “Get your men aboard the thunderhawk.” Lykran ordered.

    Captain Smitts barely heard the Marine‘s order over the loudness of the guzzling wind. “Sergeant Merrik get your men on that thunderhawk.” He began. “I’ve lost my two pilots I don’t intend on losing anymore men today.”
    Fontain Stood with his feet touching the razor wire one hand held forwards firing of small balls of lightening with Brother Kajun stood at his right firing off volleys of Heavy bolter fire into the creatures. Ivan and Byrne followed the guardsmen up the ramp and into the thunderhawk.

    Brother Kajun started to back away from the razor wire stepping backwards onto the ramp were Lykran stood firing shots of plasma off from his crafted plasma pistol. “FONTAIN GET ABOARD.” He screamed out.

    Fontain watched as he saw Horus approach him slowly flexing his claws ready for the kill. Again he summoned a ball of lightening and fired it towards Horus, yet with the blink of an eye Horus was gone and the creatures were almost on him. Suddenly he felt his body boil with an uncontrollable rage of psychic energy, then stopped from a hand grabbing his shoulder guard and yanking him back. A second later and he was inside the thunderhawk. “Byrne get us out of here.” Lykran called out once fully inside the thunderhawk. Brother Byrne lifted up the large vessel yet battling against what appeared to be a psychic wind rocking them side to side. Yet with some skill managed to break free and fly up into the red stained sky.

    "I am but a leave within the wind." He proudly said.
    Lykran stood over him looking down at the ground through the cockpits window. "Get a com open to the burning star. I think the Inquisitor will want to know about this." He said.

    Peta and Connelly looked into each others bare face’s still shocked from the events they had just witness. “What the fraggin hell were they.” Connelly finally asked.

    Sergeant Ivan rose up to answer. “You’re first dealing with chaos.”
    Both the guards looked at each other again only this time they had the look of pure terror spread across their bare face's.

    The librarian Fontain sat in the far corner curled up into a ball with his head down in his knees. Ivan sat besides him resting his bolter at his own feet.
    "I sense something is wrong with you my friend." Ivan said in a low tone so as the others would not hear.

    Fontain looked up at Ivan, his hood still just above his blood shot eyes.
    Ivan looked dismayed and concerned for Fontain, but unsure as to ask too many questions of the Blood Drinker, even Ivan knew each chapter of the Adaptus Astartes had its secrets for their own reasons.

    "If you can Brother tell me what troubles you." Ivan asked again.

    Fontain simply smiled slightly revealing his red eyes under his hood. Before hiding his face under its shadow again.
     
  9. Charmed82
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    Charmed82 New Member

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    Confused!!!

    Hi,

    I know i am just new to this but i don't really get whatthe idea is, themes?. Please someoone help with a few simple pointers, if not will wait till next week, ta.
     
  10. Heather Louise
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    Heather Louise Contributing Member Contributor

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    what are you confused about Charmed, what the theme is or how it works. either way, basically each week we write a short story about the set theme. the theme is picked by the runner of the competition (Torana). this weeks theme is Cyber Punk, and although i am too sure what it is entiraly the posted links may help you with it. :)
    Heather
     
  11. Cogito
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    Cogito Former Mod, Retired Supporter Contributor

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    This was to have been my entry for the previous Short Story Competition, but it was nowhere near ready as the competition drew to a close. Then I realized it will do as well for this week's contest.

    1642 words.

    ---------------------------------------

    Recruitment

    Jace settled deeper in his seat, and took a deep breath. He was shaking, but tried not to show it. A moment later, he heard Xan getting up from his chair on the other side of the room. Jace removed the headset with its twin displays in time to see Xan leaning over him, grinning insanely.

    “Que or que, that was ice, ver?” Xan asked enthusiastically.

    Jace forced a grin. “Ver, was max cryo, as adverted! When that vamp full screened me, shivered me for ver!”

    He meant that part, anyway. As soon as the vampire rose up, filling his view, the emotion circuit had kicked in, shooting a genuine stab of fear through him that was so real, he still felt sick inside.

    Jace had been gaming for years, and had eagerly jumped on the mind-directed gaming bandwagon when it began six years ago. In the last year and a half, the emotional feedback mod, or EFB, had become the new hot item. It had begun with the underground porn games, when designers successfully learned to induce waves of pleasure at key game moments. But within the last month or so, a new trend began to develop, with a broader range of induced emotions now incorporated into games. Xan had become enthralled with the new Blood Mistress game he had just demonstrated to Jace.

    Still, as unpleasant as the experience had been, Jace began to feel strangely tempted to repeat it. The realism and adrenaline rush made it an unforgettable experience, even though the horror genre wasn’t his favorite.

    His game module beeped, reminding him of the time. “Xan-san, must fly! The stonies will be pulling back right quick!”

    The stonefaces no longer patrolled this part of town after dark. Summer always saw an increase in random violence, but this summer had turned bad, and that was ver! Ever since a cruiser had been literally ripped open and the two stonies inside mauled to death, the police had taken a new strategy of containment. They now only patrolled the perimeter of the neighborhood after dark, and venturing outside within the zone was pure suicide. Jace hurried back to his place before the patrols retreated for the evening, and sealed the heavy steel door of his nest.

    He threw together a quick meal from leftovers, then settled in for some gaming. He started with Lust Bunnies, but after he maneuvered past the Skankies and the costly Cashcows, and picked out a willing Sweetbun, he sighed and pulled off the headset, utterly bored.

    He couldn’t get the rush of terror from Xan’s game out of his head. A fight game with a good EFB would be ver cryo, and he was sure there must be one out there. He onlined his game module, and began a search. Meanwhile, he put his headset back on and scanned the news channels.

    The city was turning into a war zone. No one really knew why the violence and destruction had spiked so sharply. The summer of 2014 had become as notorious as 9-11 had been as a new era of fear and loss. Some suspected that terror cells had infiltrated the States, and were behind the runaway lawlessness. Others blamed the drug kings and the weaponeers for stirring up the psychies. An entire block in the Asia zone was still burning for the fourth day running.
    Jace pulled off the headset. The search was still running, so he decided to let it continue overnight. He sighed and crawled into his sleepsack.

    He woke to a crashing boom outside. The sun was just cresting over the apartment block across the street, but a dancing orange light from the street was competing with it. Jace looked cautiously out through the window, and saw the shredded shell of a mail truck engulfed in flames. A thick black smoke curled around the wreckage. A fire truck arrived, flanked by a pair of heavily armed cruisers to protect it. Jace turned away, and remembered the search he had started.
    The list of EFB fighting games was longer than he had expected. Some of them appeared to be one on one dueling games, and he filtered them immediately. He sorted them by popularity, and perused the details of the top ten. One of them, Urban Mercenary, looked particularly intriguing.

    He decided to ask Xan what he knew of the game, and called him from the game module. After several blips, he gave up. Xan must be asleep, or too wrapped around a game to care about answering calls. Jace decided to go ahead and purchase the game. He keyed in his purchase code, submitted to the retinal scan, and spoke the response to the challenge question. The game download began, and would be completed by midday.

    Jace checked his task list, and began his sales calls for the day. By early afternoon, he had earned enough commission points to call it a day, but he also submitted a game review on Blood Mistress to earn a few extra bucks.

    Urban Mercenary had finished downloading, and had auto-updated with the latest enhancements. After a hurried lunch, Jace settled into a chair and entered the intro stage.

    He was lightly armed for this phase, on foot patrol through a city much like his own. When he passed a liquor mart, a man carrying a machine pistol rushed out, firing a burst back in through the doors. Jace felt a wave of rage wash over him, and he drew a hunting knife and rushed the thug. He forced himself to feel a stronger rage, and saw his opponent falter in response. Pretty basic fight gaming so far; the user’s emotions gave a fighting advantage, but this game took it a level higher by giving him an initial anger surge. Jace drove his knife into the thug’s chest, and felt a surge of satisfaction flood through him.

    He played two more warm up scenarios, and each time rode the EFB made him feel like he was actually there, fighting to keep the streets safe. Exhausted, he took a dinner break, and brought up the news. As he expected, the mail truck bombing was mentioned, after several other violent acts. Suddenly he sat up, and selected a replay of the segment.

    “The bomber, identified as Alexander Fitzpatrick, a resident on Market Street, was caught in his own explosion, and was pronounced dead at the scene…” Jace sat back, stunned. There had to be a mistake! It couldn’t have been Xan, he’d never do something like that. He dialed Xan from the game module, and got a disconnected station message.

    He’d grown up with Xan. Xan was a layabout, a ver hedon who liked nothing better than gaming and telling bad jokes. Xan as a bomber made less sense than the Sizzler Steakmaster going vegan. Unwanted tears blurred his view of the headset screens.

    He attended a wake for his friend later that week. Everyone there shared his disbelief, and many declared that he must have just been caught in the explosion purely by coincidence; Jace was troubled though; Xan would not have been out on the streets that early. He had no answers, not even good questions. He woke the next morning with a headache.

    Feeling a need for distraction, he started up Urban Mercenary for the first time since he had learned of Xan’s death. After several hours of play, he decided to get a buzz on. He knew he was out of Tequila, and Tequila was clearly necessary. It was still early in the afternoon, so he headed out to the liquor store around the corner. As he opened the door, he nearly bumped into a customer loaded with a double armload of clinking bags. He shoved past angrily, nearly knocking the man over. He seethed as he heard the man cursing under his breath, and felt an urge to go after him.

    Back at the apartment, he got ripping drunk, and passed out in his chair. He woke in the middle of the night, stumbled to the commode, and vomited until he ached. He woke again soon after sunrise, sprawled on the bathroom floor.

    Over the next couple days, he worked the minimum he could get away with, and spent every spare moment playing the game. He could not get enough of the emotional extremes, fierce rage, fear, and rewarded with waves of excitement and joy with each victory. Most of the time, he’d celebrate afterwards with tequila, or vodka, or rum.

    On one of his excursions to restock his liquor supply, he passed two Asians talking animatedly and laughing. A surge of anger gripped him, and he balled his fists and advanced on them. “Shut the f*** up, and stop laughing!” They stared at him and began to back away. He lost all control of himself and lunged at them. He pounded at them until both lay motionless on the pavement, and began kicking them, with a feeling of euphoria singing in his skull. He heard a siren wail behind him, but kept on kicking the bloody corpses.
    Hands grasped him roughly from behind. He turned as his rage reasserted itself, and he attacked the stoneface like a berserker. He never felt the shot that took him down.

    That night, Chas Morgan set aside his newly downloaded Urban Mercenary game, and listened to the evening news. He shook his head in dismay at the story of a senseless hate crime, two Chinese cousins brutally murdered in broad daylight. The killer was thought to be a drug addict at first, but the drug screens all came up negative. The reporter speculated that a new drug must be circulating, not yet covered by the standard drug tests. The rise in hate crimes was rising alarmingly, and authorities were still at a loss about its origins.
     
  12. dirtybird
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    dirtybird New Member

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    The Annals Of A Corporate Assassin

    The Annals Of A Corporate Assassin

    Weather or not, if it was one thing I had learned, it was never terry into another corporation without protection. Why do I say this? Humm, well, as I recall it, the night was young and very humid, unusual for our times. Anyway, another cyberpunk assassin by the name of James Corrwell had been captured by our rival corporation. Ellis and Company. Their agenda was like no other, they planned to push human civilization on the brink of destruction by somehow harnessing the power of the stars and using them to make their enemy corporations submit. Then, they could enter phase two of their plan by establishing an Ellis and Co base on nearly every corner of Dolarian XII, a realitively large planet that was well known for its support in times of war and diplomacy in times of peace. Huh, whatever, I really didn't understand why Dolarian XII just couldn't obliterate Ellis and Co that way we would avoid yet another war. You see, in years passed, that planet had been plunged into chaos and bloodshed. Its people were begging not to go to war again, and hopefully, I would be the one to prevent another conflict from breaking out. Even so, my mission was simple but extremely risky. On a sidenote, as a corporate assassin, the authoritians knew who and where they sent their men, weather it be a chaotic region, or peacful, despite the atmosphere an assassin was to do his job no matter what the cost may have been. No, the corporations themselves didn't do the handyjobs that so many assassins had done down the line; no they were too prideful to get their hands dirty. Instead, they found a much better approach and utilized legions of cyborg assassins to carry out their heinous agendas. Ahh, yes, even though they payed well, you just didn't know how long you may keep your job. Nonetheless, intelligence informed me by the hands of my superiors that James Corrwell was in dangerous territory. As if that wasn't the least of my problems, they also theorized that something else was afoot, only they didn't know what it could have been. With all of my weaponry prepared, I was dropped into Ellis and Co territory. Humph, it wasn't as scary as some people thought it to be.

    I didn't comprehend why so many people feared Ellis and Co. What was there to fear? All they had done was forcefully capture a rival business called Client. From what I had gathered over time, Ellis and Client were fierce rivals. In short, one thing led to another and the Client supreme executive was found dead in his lavish hotel room on a quiet and stormy night. Shortly thereafter, the gigantically successful corporation of Client fell and Ellis moved in for the final blow and took control of everything they had worked so hard for. Apparently, Ellis and Co was not as powerful as people had thought of them. From another source, it was a secret that Ellis was scared of Client and knew it was only a matter of time before their rival took over their corporation. Of course, Ellis didn't want this to happen so they decided to eliminate the highest authority and the corparation itself would fall soon thereafter. Their plan had worked and Ellis was beginning to become just as strong as Client. Humph, I would love to see the day in which Ellis completely rules southern Doalrian XIi, that would be something to marvel; but as a corporate assassin, I knew something of that magnitude would never occurr. Aside from that, on my journey I encountered a woman named Jezelle White. Wow, this woman was incredibly beautiful. Her hair was like silk, gold silk that waved in a cool breeze. Her face was soft looking and dainty, and her eyes. They were an icy blue and made her beauty shimmer even the more. If I had not been an assassin.. We hit it off very quickly, but I couldn't let my guard down, even though she was strkingly beautiful, there was something I felt about her that didn't fit. Hum, I had to be on guard, more than ever. After talking for some time, she desired to stay in a hotel, I played along. During the night, she tried very hard to seduce me, but I didn't bite, she was just who I thought she was. Then, our of nowhere when my back was turned, she pulled a needle on me and tried to kill me! However, years of training in hand to hand combat saved me and I successfully bound her by a thick rope. Even though she insisted she was Jezelle White, she looked extremely familiar. Once going through her real identifications, I found out who she was. Jezelle White didn't exist at all, her named was Connie Jones, she only possessed an alias in times of war. Connie Jones was known for the infamous assassination of my father- Frank Emmanuel a few years back.... she was the one who killed my father. The Corporation told me that if I were to ever come in contact with her, I would have to kill her. With no other choice, I followed orders. From there, I terried to the area where James Corrwell could have possible been. That woman, that traitor! She was responsible for the brutal murder of my father. It was a shame I could only kill her once! Huhh, whatever, I did what needed to be done and nothing more. Rest in peace Connie Jones, it seemed as though no matter how much you ran, the fates conspired and made us cross paths. The very moment I saw you, I knew I had seen you somewhere, at that time I just couldn't lay my finger on it, but be that as it may; I finally found out your true identity. Yes, she was an infamous woman, responsible for some of the worst assassinations in corporate history. Connie used her goods to get the better of a man and kill him, great assasins had fallen before her but if only they had been wise instead of.. Oh well, she is finally dead now and her predecessors, whoever they may be are gone as well. Father, I only hope you are satisfied, not with her death but with my deeds. I know you don't enjoy me killing other people, one day, I will get out of this mess and find a much better job; one that would surely please you.
     
  13. Gannon
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    Gannon Contributing Member Contributor

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    Final Solution

    Goi Van’t See existed in the shadows of Stairdam’s sprawl. Under that system she was destined to remain a designated member of the subclass. She was born in the underworld and like the others feared the nightly cleanses of undocumented individuals. Her father was a cleanser: her mother sport.

    The Van’t See dynasty collapsed in 2061 along with so many others. With the leading job boards simultaneously hacked, the majority of the European workforce’s vitae were made public. Individuals with attractive attributes were gleaned from the mêlée, many others fired as a result. Earlier in 2049, the largest acquisition merger in European history saw the dawn of BSP, the most powerful energy conglomerate on earth, employing close to forty percent of documented Europeans. BSP created work; the first major project of which was to seal the Mediterranean with an offshore wall so that the Assiduates could be protected. They took care to wall in recent gas prospects off Morocco.

    Assiduate Frasier Grewal was brother to Europe’s conservative League of Nations Prime Minister Gage Grewal. Now aged 59, Frasier Grewal sat on the board of directors at BSP, and was to become CEO. BSP as Europe’s lead employer exacted certain influences on the LON government, such as the creation of their own policing unit to help protect the interests of the company, Assiduates in general and help quiet turbulence. These men patrolled the Med, the forthcoming Cold wall and the streets, working as cleansers.

    Successive social governments had devalued the education system with promises of equality but with it brought a disregard for quality, to the point where those still entitled to an education no longer graduated and rather inaugurated directly into the workforce. The population now stood officially balanced, each inaugurate received an entry-level position in a designated industry. Government graders allocated your profession at the age of 13; the point at which you entered tailored college. With creativity stifled the statistics read better to the corpulent analyst.

    Goi was not an official statistic. And she was not eligible for education. She reasoned that this was for the better. She’d leant all she needed to know in the shadows. And she knew Gerrit.

    Gerrit was considered a dissident anarchist. He was wanted for migration breaches, the forgery of official documents, illegal existence, cacatophic and dystophic revolt, hacking and general plotting to cause affray. Born adrift in the Baltic Sea he had come ashore on Gotland and lived and worked undocumented at Ringvida. Aged 13 he boarded an inaugurate-training vessel with forged documents and came to the mainland. An inky trail snaked behind him. He had been on the BSPolice active list for 45 years and was labelled dangerous. He dressed to avoid attention and save for his wiry stature concealed himself well.

    He met Goi when she was 9 and saw a lot of himself in her: alone and strong. He took her beyond the wall to prove its existence, nothing more. Goi was impressionable and raw, Gerrit impressive and patient. All that remained of Goi the streetchild were her pink eyes: the product of neon flare tests in the slums.
    The BSPolice wondered how Gerrit could still elude them with such agility after more than 45 years in hiding. Their questions were finally answered when Goi hacked Frasier Grewal’s annual broadcast to staff, using Gerrit’s signature and streaming her own unmistakable image.

    Outside the imposing LON conference centre Gerrit surrendered to the cleansers amid a maelstrom of sanctioned publicity. They surged forward engulfing Gerrit in a frenzied sea. In the centre’s shadow crept Goi, her eyes aflame. Their plan had worked perfectly.

    The hack covered for an integrated and intelligent Trojan patch, with changing time codes so as to avoid tracking and sourcing. A continual, thumbnail stream hyperlinked to a web image, this thumbnail piggybacked all digital streams originating from BSP – and the media dutifully broadcast it.

    The link read Nede and flickered with the varying time signatures. The seed of doubt planted in the garden Goi and Gerrit confidently waited. A lush meadow backed onto a wall, over which a crude style had been erected. The link like the Grewal brothers remained silent.
     
  14. xxkozxx
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    xxkozxx Active Member

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    Can this be over 3000 words? The way I am going it looks like it's going to be a long one. I started out having problems writing this one because I usually don't write science fiction but now the imagination is revved up on high gear!
     
  15. Cogito
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    Cogito Former Mod, Retired Supporter Contributor

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    Sorry, but the upper word limit is 3000 words, plus a 10% leniency, so the absolute top limit would have been 3300 words.

    However, today is the 29th, so the deadline has already passed for the contest, in every time zone. In Torana's absence, I've been asked to set up the voting, so I'll do that now.
     
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