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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #2330027
Here are some more 75- and 100-word stories, spanning several genres.

"Goodbye, Suglarland"

Emily came in through the door. The sun filtered through cotton candy clouds. Peppermints rolled along chocolate rivers, while chocolate bunnies hopped about gummy worm bushes.

The Caretaker fluttered down.

"You can't be here," she said sweetly, "You're well into womanhood now. We've played our song."

Emily shed a tear that became a lemon drop when it fell.

"It's harsh out there. My niece has cancer."

"Then will it."

Emily looked up.

"Will it to her. She'll need this now."

And so the Creator did.



"The Thing About Misery"

The inmate rubbed his magic ring and out came the djinn. The inmate spoke first.

"I want a second chance."

"You own me, so I grant you infinite wishes. But I tire of this request, as I've granted it time and again. Even I cannot reverse fate."

"I've done bad things. Murdered people. Have you ever done evil?"

"I have."

"Maybe you could stay out here with me?"

His new friend found this agreeable enough.



"The Leucrocotta"

"Three quick knocks and two loud ones," the girl's mother had said. Now she heard slightly different knocks.

"Say something," the girl said.

"It's Mama," came the reply.

She unlocked the door.

It was a monster, the leucrocotta.

"Foolish child. Remember my powers?"

The girl stared as it entered. Then there was a snap and a howl. Beartrap.

The girl approached it, drawing a switchblade.

"We're going to have some fun, aren't we?" she said.



"Clinging Vine"

Curtis, philter from the local witch in hand, looked for Kelly's house's backdoor. She never acknowledged him. Now, she would love him.

He tripped over a rock, spilling it on a vine. It came to life, caressing him. It clung tenaciously.

"I'm in love with Kelly!"

With that, the vine broke his neck.

Kelly and a cop looked at the corpse.

"You know," Kelly said, through tears, "I had something of a crush on him."



"Swordplay"

Captain Blackheart pricked Captain Fairweather's back with his rapier, forcing him closer towards the end of the plank. In a stunning feat, Fairweather burst the rope on his wrists apart and flipped backwards through the air, landing back on the ship behind Blackheart. The two proceeded to poke and clash their swords together, neither one having the upper hand.

Fairweather's sword left his hand.

Blackheart tackled him, ready to kill.

"Kids, dinner's ready!" an outside voice came.

"Next time, Fairweather," said Blackheart.

With that, the boys removed their pirate wear and went inside, leaving their imaginary world frozen and waiting.



"The Ones You Love"

A macabre tragedy. Twenty-four souls lost. Then a miracle. The ones who died come back. Not zombie-like. Not immaterial. As they were before they died. Embraces. Tears of joy. Thanksgiving. Then along comes a spider. A brimstone preacher, silver-tongued. His speech causes good people to think bad things about the Revived. "They are demons! Kill them all!" This proves no big feat. The revelation: An innocent prayer from a girl that families would be reunited.



"Discreet Tom"

"Sir, let me tell you my tale. I knew Godiva was going through town. I knew of her condition then. It was the horse that alerted me. The gallop sounded beautiful yet curious, arousing my suspicion. I only then darted my eyes over to Godiva for a moment. Stricken blind! Oh, I hear that same horse approaching. What does the...horse...look like? What, you call me a liar, now? The blazes with you, then!"



"A Bit Wild at Heart"

The broncobuster approached the unicorn, intending to break it. To be sure, he had a preternatural, if not supernatural, talent taming other equines. First murmuring to it, he mounted it as it tried to gore him. It put up a fight, but eventually relented.

"I knew I could tame you," said the broncobuster.

"No," the unicorn said as the man jumped, "I've tamed you. You'll never leave me."

"Ha, we'll see about...Ah, Yes, master."



"Keeping Up with the Martians"

Martians, the B'zonks lived across the street from the Hamiltons. They were a recent addition to a reluctant neighborhood.

One day, the B'zonks bought a new entertainment system. Upon hearing this, the Hamiltons bought one. The B'zonks bought a PS10. So did the Hamiltons. The B'zonks bought a holographic front yard. Mr. Hamilton was furious; how could they afford such a thing?

Mr. Hamilton stormed over to the Martians' house. Mr. B'zonk answered.

"Hey--," was all the human could say.

"Howdy, neighbor," said the Martian, "Care to join us?"

Not quite knowing why, Hamilton shook his fourth hand and did.



"The Man Who Conquered Death"

"What will this do?" I inquired of the tattoo artist, indicating a drawing of a scarab with a skull-bearing shell. The place was Black Magic Tattoo Parlor. I was referred by an associate of mine, who happens to be an occultist.

"With it," the artist said, "you will conquer Death itself. Of course, one must believe--"

"I do."

"Fine."

"How much?"

The artist seemed to weigh it in his head.

"One dollar."

I questioned this a moment, but was under the needle seconds later.

When it was finished, he handed me a scythe.

"You've conquered me. Now you'll replace me."



"Blood Runs Deeper Than Oil"

The New Luddite Club gathered in the back room of a tavern after a picketing gone vicious. The ceremony held therein concerned the acceptance of a new member into their ranks. Their president, O'Ryan, conducted it.

"How do you feel about bots?" he asked the stranger, who seemed somewhat nervous.

"They're a waste of time."

"Yeah? How do you feel about those metal no-brains trying to take our country from us?"

"It's a damned abomination!"

O'Ryan nodded in approval. He extended his mechanical left arm of his otherwise organic body. The stranger took his hand, his cybernetic right eye glowing.



"Trojans Bearing Gifts"

The North Ikarian guard startled as the Southern guard approached.

"Who goes there?" demanded the Northerner, rifle ready.

"The great nation of South Ikaria offers you a gift."

The visitor smiled and presented a wooden box. The Northern guard grimaced.

"What is it?" he barked.

The South Ikarian only smiled and bowed.

"We accept your present. Now go."

The Northern guard dismissed the foreigner, gun still trained on him. When he

was out of sight, the North Ikarian lit a match and set the box afire.

Meanwhile, the other met his superior.

"The cure for cancer has been delivered, sir."



"The Haunting of the Holy Land"

"Let me show you something," said the old ghost to the young ghost.

A circle of crystal edifices and lush vegetation surrounded them.

"This is the Holy Land that could've been, or could be."

"What happened to it?" asked the little one. The illusion disappeared.

"Men happened to it. Man's past aggressions have perpetuated this hell on earth.

The old haunts the new, words on a palimpsest. And the tragedy of it is, only we

dead can know."

The two ghosts stood now, watching the young Muslim boy and the old Jewish man

lying lifeless, being rained on by debris.



"Bone Appetit"

Three men sat eating at a table, devouring their meals greedily.

"My left eyeball is simply fantastic," one said, "Tastes divine with salt."

"My toe's a mite crunchy," said another.

Below them, their dog drooled expectantly.

"Glad we found each other. I prefer to dine with others."

All of a sudden, one screamed.

"This isn't my finger! Whose finger is this?"

"Not mine! Whose nose do I have?"

"Gross! I think I've lost my appetite!"



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