r/shortstories • u/FyeNite • 21h ago
[Serial Sunday] Get to The (En)Trenche(d)s!
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 Entrenched! 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’).
- Eager
- Ego
- Egg
- A shoe is lost. - (Worth 10 points)
As bombs explode in no man's land and bullets whiz over our heads, the council of war meet to consider our options in the trenches, the tower casting its shadows upon us.
"Their army believes they are on the offense, that they will take our tower in the tangle sooner or later, and we will have to concede the point," our colonel says, pointing to the map. "I say let them. Let them believe in their little victory, and let us establish a good position to surround them, make them play defense."
He takes a swig from his canteen, before continuing. "They can believe in their victory all they want, but we will bring evidence to the contrary. And if they don't see reason, well... worse things have happened."
Good luck and Good Words!
These are just a few things to get you started. Remember, the theme should be present within the story in some way, but its interpretation is completely up to you. For the bonus words (not required), you may change the tense, but the base word should remain the same. Please remember that STORIES MUST FOLLOW ALL SUBREDDIT CONTENT RULES. Interested in writing the theme blurb for the coming week? DM me on Reddit or Discord!
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Theme Schedule:
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.
May 31- Entrenched
June 7- Foreign
June 14 - Great
June 21 - Heartless
June 28 - Irony
Check out previous themes here.
Rankings
Last Week: Doom
First - by u/AGuyLikeThat
Second - by u/Divayth--Fyr
Third - by u/Live-Albatross-1090
Fourth - u/Morose_Prose
Fifth - by u/wandering_cirrus
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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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Ranking System
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! |
| Actionable Feedback | 5 - 15 pts each (60 pt. max)* | This includes thread and campfire critiques. (15 pt crits are those that go above & beyond.) |
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You are still required to leave at least 1 actionable feedback comment on the thread every week that you submit. This should include at least one specific thing the author has done well and one that could be improved. *Please remember that interacting with a story is not the same as providing feedback.** Low-effort crits will not receive credit.
Subreddit News
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u/ForwardSavings318 18h ago
<Man to beast>
Index
Chapter twenty seven: consequences
CW: death, graphic injuries, predatory behavior, blood.
Silas rushed through the bushes into a small clearing. He saw four men in dirty rags with rusted short swords on their belts and a woman in a green torn gown kneeling against a broken down carriage.
Four other men lay in the grass, bodies limp and still. They wore leather chestplates, newer than any other equipment he saw anyone else wear.
“The fuck you want, boy?” One man sneered.
“She asked for help.” Silas muttered, stepping closer.
“Just you?”
“Something like that.”
There was silence until he passed the bodies on the ground, when they suddenly shot up and blocked his path back into the woods. Three held curved sabers but the one closest wore a clean lange messer in a sword loop with vines engraved into it. He was taller than the others and was bald, small scars coated his cheeks.
“You made a mistake boy.”
“The woman comes with me.”
The woman cackled and threw her head back.
“Cancor, we caught quite the simple one. My lord boy, you are a fool.”
The tall man grinned, chuckling to himself. He approached Silas with one of the men without armor beside him.
“Look boy, just give us what you got and call for help. We heard that cart, call your group down here.”
“His group *is* here.” Maliwag growled as she emerged from the tree line. Her wooden scabbard was slung across her shoulders, the yellow string woven across the top of it. The young woman’s wrist rested atop the snake mouth handle, the long trails of hair from its bottom lip swayed in the wind.
“You’re a pretty one, exotic too.” One of the other men muttered as the three with leather chestplates got just a few steps away from her.
Maliwag’s dark brown and black hair did little to hide her yellow eyes, the pupils shrinking and shrinking until they were practically specks.
“Just hand over that sword, pretty thing. We’ll play nice, no need to get hurt.”
“I’ll give you one chance to give up, before you all lose your heads, ” The young woman said, taking a small step closer.
“Now that’s rude, darling. You’d regret drawing that sword, I'm very good with my own blade.”
“Doesn’t matter how good you are, you already died the moment you let me get close.”
Maliwag suddenly swung her sword, the blade cutting through the strings and splitting the scabbard down the middle. Her horizontal slash continued from left to right before anyone could react, cutting down the first two men. The last one pulled back just enough to receive a small laceration under his adam’s apple.
Her sword, now fully visible, was thin at its base, widening towards a slanted tip, a sharpened hook curved on the back side of it.
Silas quickly followed suit, trying not to let the death get to him. The young man grabbed Cancor’s sword with his right hand to keep it from being drawn as he twisted and smashed the point of his elbow into the tip of the man’s chin with all his might.
Cancor crumpled into the grass, Silas drawing the man’s sword as he fell. The young man adjusted it in his grip just fast enough to parry the other man’s slash.
All weapons were drawn now, two men on Silas and three on Maliwag. Silas slid back to avoid another wild slash and looked over to see Maliwag parry a thrust and use her hook around the man’s crossguard to pull his sword away before dispatching him with a quick thrust aswell.
A vertical cut brought Silas back to his fight, backing away again. The mugger didn’t pull his sword back though, turning its downward angle into a thrust at Silas’s inner thigh.
He simply parried it to the outside of his leg and stepped forward, slamming the pommel of his sword into the mugger’s sternum before swinging it upwards and catching the mugger’s chin. The mugger’s partner transitioned between slashes and thrust recklessly, leaving many openings.
Silas held back from cutting anything vital, taking small cuts on his shoulders to stay defensive until he could close the distance enough to land a hard headbutt, laying the man out.
He turned back to Maliwag to see the other men already slain, unlike him she was uninjured and didn’t seem to have broken a sweat.
She turned and he tracked her gaze to the woman who was now rummaging through the carriage. Silas got in Maliwag's way, holding up a hand.
“No. She wasn’t fighting.”
“She lured you here. You could’ve died, Silas. Move, I won’t ask again.”
“You’ve killed enough! Let’s just leave the ones that are alive, there’s no point in killing them now.”
“There’s plenty of points.”
There was a light hiss from the carriage that made the pair pause, Maliwag glanced before Silas. Her small pupils suddenly became as big as could be and she gasped.
“Handgonne! Silas no!”
He had barely turned as the young woman shoved him. He barely caught the glimpse of a metal tube emerging from the carriage before it happened.
BANG.
Warm fluid sprayed across Silas’s face as he hit the grass. Searing pain shot through his jaw and neck before dissipating just as fast. One eye’s vision went black as his body went numb. His other eye’s vision was blurry, just barely making out Maliwag as she cupped his face with a look of horror. His ears were ringing too hard to hear her speak, but he could almost make out *I got you* on her lips. His body went cold as the world began to go black as she pushed something hard into his neck, his vision closing in until all feeling faded.
WC:964
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u/Morose_Prose 13h ago
Hello Forward! That CW sure is a nice hook after the ending of the last chapter, let's dig in.
Love the action in the chapter, do not like how it is presented. The way a lot of the action is written is very passive and list-like. It reads like someone is retelling a fight to you, not putting the reader in the thick of the action. The intensity is lost and some of the repetition pushes the reader away instead of drawing them in, and for a chapter like this and what it means for the narrative it should have that weight in my opinion. I really liked this and these are just my opinions. My usual disclaimer stands: All advice is free and comes with a money back guarantee! Let's hit it!
He saw four men in dirty rags with rusted short swords on their belts and a woman in a green torn gown kneeling against a broken down carriage. Four other men lay in the grass, bodies limp and still. They wore leather chestplates, newer than any other equipment he saw anyone else wear.
The imagery here is good but a bit flat. Maybe something like 'He saw four men wearing filthy rags, rusted short swords about their hips, standing over a woman kneeling against a broken-down carriage, her green gown torn at the hem.' 'Four other men equipped with leather chestplates, newer and better equipment than the ragged men, lay in the grass, their bodies limp and still.'
There was silence until he passed the bodies on the ground, when they suddenly shot up and blocked his path back into the woods. Three held curved sabers but the one closest wore a clean lange messer in a sword loop with vines engraved into it. He was taller than the others and was bald, small scars coated his cheeks.
Same thing. Great imagery, lacks some punch. Maybe something like 'Silence crept along with his footsteps until he passed the still bodies; like springs they sprang up to block his path. Three brandished curved sabres, but that wasn't what Silas focused on. Vines engraved on a leather loop carrying a lange messer drew his eyes up. A bald man with cheeks coated in scars towered over him and the others.'
Maliwag growled as she emerged from the tree line. Her wooden scabbard was slung across her shoulders, the yellow string woven across the top of it. The young woman’s wrist rested atop the snake mouth handle, the long trails of hair from its bottom lip swayed in the wind.
Little cleanup could save some words for the word count and keep the description tight. 'Maliwag growled as she burst through the trees, a dark wooden scabbard slung across her shoulders, the woven yellow string around its top met her wrist as she grasped its snake-mouthed handle. Long whiskers from the serpent's lip swayed in the wind.
Maliwag suddenly swung her sword, the blade cutting through the strings and splitting the scabbard down the middle. Her horizontal slash continued from left to right before anyone could react, cutting down the first two men. The last one pulled back just enough to receive a small laceration under his adam’s apple.
Action is a little too "matter of fact" here, Mali did this, here is how the sword swung type stuff. Maybe try to capture the moment a bit more dynamically. 'The scabbard split; strings severed as Maliwag drew her sword without hesitation. With a single slash, two of the men were cut down, one barely managed to dodge back, escaping momentarily with a small laceration to his neck under his Adam's apple.'
Silas slid back to avoid another wild slash and looked over to see Maliwag parry a thrust and use her hook around the man’s crossguard to pull his sword away before dispatching him with a quick thrust aswell.
Maybe cut down the part with Maliwag to keep pace with the quickening fight. 'looked over to see Maliwag parry a thrust, hook her blade around the man's crossguard, disarming him before landing a follow-up thrust into his stomach.'
The mugger’s partner transitioned between slashes and thrust recklessly, leaving many openings.
Quicken the pace a little more possibly. 'The mugger's partner slashed and thrust recklessly, leaving wide gaps for a counterattack.
She turned and he tracked her gaze to the woman who was now rummaging through the carriage. Silas got in Maliwag's way, holding up a hand.
Same stuff here. 'Silas tracked Maliwag's gaze as it turned to the woman rummaging through the carriage; he shot between the two, putting his hands up to stop her approach.'
There was a light hiss from the carriage that made the pair pause, Maliwag glanced before Silas. Her small pupils suddenly became as big as could be and she gasped.
Gonna keep the train rolling here. Could trim the fat and get some words back. 'A light hiss from the carriage caused them to pause. Maliwag glanced at Silas; her pupils dilated rapidly as she gasped.'
He had barely turned as the young woman shoved him. He barely caught the glimpse of a metal tube emerging from the carriage before it happened.
More trimming could be useful. 'He had barely turned when the woman shoved him, leaving him just enough time to glimpse a metal tube emerging from the carriage.' I would omit 'before it happened' entirely, let the next line (BANG) stand alone.
One eye’s vision went black as his body went numb. His other eye’s vision was blurry, just barely making out Maliwag as she cupped his face with a look of horror. His ears were ringing too hard to hear her speak, but he could almost make out *I got you* on her lips. His body went cold as the world began to go black as she pushed something hard into his neck, his vision closing in until all feeling faded.
Too much repetition in this part. Maybe try something slimmer 'One eye flickered into darkness as his body went numb. His other eye’s vision was a blur; he barely made out Maliwag, her face a mask of horror as she cupped his cheeks. His ears rang too loudly to hear her speak, he could almost make out I got you on her lips. As she pressed something hard into his neck, the world turned cold and black as all feeling faded.'
Good words, great scene. I can see the vision and I hope my crit helps in some way, this has great bones and great dialogue. Keep up the good work. Stay awesome and have a good one.
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u/Morose_Prose 16h ago edited 15h ago
<The Family Business>
Chapter Five: The Queens of Queens
Designer shoes stood watch at the door as they were swapped for satin slippers; expensive handbags hung on hooks under summer shawls, snipping scissors, roaring blow-dryers, and soft muzak mixed with the lively chatter in the luxury salon 'Stili Moderni' in the heart of Queens. Madelaine perched herself on the stylist counter and shook her hair out, the white streaks in it the only strands that stood out on the silk black smock. She checked herself out in the mirror across the way. Thick cigar smoke wafted slowly through her damp tangles, a heavy mist from a spray bottle sliced through the cloud.
"Really, Maddy? Right when I'm 'bout to start cuttin'?" Carmella asked snidely as she gestured with her sharpened steel.
The woman sitting in the chair glared. "You know Carm is tryin' to quit."
Madelaine bent over the counter knocking everything down in her path to turn a small fan on the far side of her perch. "Happy now, Mother Mary?" she teased. "Sorry if I'm infecting the sweet aroma of your chemical roots, honey. You only live once, Big Caramel, mom and pop always taught me that quitters never win, want a puff?"
Shearing began as planned.
"So the big house two blocks down just went on the market Maddy..." Maria said eagerly as Carmella focused on trimming her split ends.
A hard clench of enamel snapped down on tobacco as a gripping claw ran down raven hair. "Not this crap again. I am never. Ever. Moving to Queens. If I didn't love you gals so much I never would have paid the toll across the bridge here."
A pair of giggles clashed against her groan.
"You'd love it out here. Not as much hustle and bustle and the boys are always in the city doing whatever the hell they do to entertain themselves," Maria pitched the idea for the hundredth time.
A small gasp left Carmella's lips. "That reminds me! Did you hear that Ritchie lost twenty thousand on a basketball game?"
Madelaine and Maria feigned shock. A smoky snicker floated in the breeze, "I'd bet dollars to donuts Giovanna is being lied to; Ritchie's in the hole a lot more than that. Probably hasn't even told her about his proclivities for throwing down some scratch on the ponies."
Sly smiles spread slowly. "Men and their horses." Maria chuckled, "Imagine Vinny and Carlo as jockeys? Vinny can barely get his fatass off the couch. Though with his ego he thinks he could probably be a triple crown winner."
Carmella tussled Maria's newly bleached hair. "My Carlo is still very spry, thank you very much. Get out of my chair sweetie, free chair behind us all for you. Time to tame the sea of gray washing over Maddy's mane."
Madelaine plopped her cigar into the crystal ashtray on the table; she slid off the marble countertop to puddle in the chair, kicking her feet up. "Sorry to ruin your artistic vision, I want a few more streaks, not less. I'm already a fox, make me a touch more silvery."
"Fashion-forward as always." Carmella's words flicked like the quick brushstrokes on Madelaine's soft locks. "Even if I can't remember the last time you wore something other than a suit, starting to think you shower in them."
A sharp cackle cut through the mirror. "Maddy wore a suit to Tucker's christening. A suit. In church." Maria's biting fashion critique bounced between the glass.
"It was egg white! Perfectly acceptable color to the Big Woman upstairs. Besides, I go to confession every week, I'll make sure to ask Father Frankie on Sunday if that even is a sin. How are my god babies by the way?" Madelaine strained to reach her cigar.
"Off at sleepaway camp. Loving it."
Sinister giggles replaced previous playfulness. Carmella had to turn away from her work. "Remember what we did to Tammy D'Amico?"
Knowing smirks flared like wildfire. Maddy's laugh cut through the growing plume in front of her. "Poison Ivy herself. Sweet girl. Dumb as hell. Why would you ever believe rubbing leaves on your crotch would make period cramps go away?"
Carmella leaned hard on the chair causing a steep change in Maddy's elevation. "Then we stole her clothes down to the shoes when the nurse had her take that oatmeal bath!"
Maria could not help but pile on. "That hussy got what she deserved. Lucky she got off that easy for tryin' to steal Maddy's man, that sweet little Irish boy, how is Declan nowadays?"
"Busy little leprechaun as always. His pops ain't doing too hot so he's got a lot on his plate right now. I really should go see him; remind him of what he fumbled at prom." Maddy reminisced.
"That skinny little twig was trying to punch above his weight class. Speaking of which, Maddy, any... prospects?" Carmella shot a judgmental glance.
Slippery streams of smoke dribbled from the corners of Madelaine's mouth. "I deal with enough man-children in my day-to-day, thank you very much. Don't need little ones too. You gals may not know it, but the dating pool is all shallow end now. Love is fleeting anyways, ain't no way I'm lettin' some boy-toy take half my shit when I realize I don't love 'em no more. Bachelorette; all the way."
Maria strolled across the salon to team up against her friend. "Won't move to Queens, won't settle down, wants white hair. You speedrunning being an old maid?"
"Does your brownstone let you have cats?"
"Are you hoarding yet?"
"Still have magazine subscriptions?"
"How many doilies do you have?"
Rapturous applause boomed from Madelaine's manicured hands. "Funny stuff girls. You two a comedy duo now? Loreline and Hardina? This your tight five you're gonna do on Fallon's show? I can write some better material for yas, only want a small percentage on the back-end." Madelaine blew a kiss to the modern day Vaudevillians.
A final brushstroke finished Carmella's personal Sistine Chapel. "Fallon sucks. We'd go on Colbert."
Thanks for reading! Feedback, critique, and criticism all not only welcomed but encouraged! Stay awesome and have a good one.
Word Count: 1000
Theme: Madelaine is fully entrenched in the Mafia, down to being childhood friends with everybody's wives.
Bonus words used: Eagerly, Ego, Egg.
Bonus constraint: Poor Tammy D'amico lost her shoes, she got what she deserved.
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u/ForwardSavings318 15h ago
Hello neutron/prose! Mafia time of the week I see.
The beginning of this is a little chaotic for setting the scene in my opinion. I’m a little unsure of what’s happening. I’m imagining Madelaine sitting onto the counter next to there the sink would be for washing hair in a salon, or maybe just beside the hairdresser tools? Then she says she’s staring at the mirror across the way, so I’m assuming she next to Carmella and the woman in the chair.
> "So the big house two blocks down just went on the market Maddy..." Maria said eagerly as Carmella focused on trimming her split ends.
I assume Maria is the one in the chair, and mother Mary was a way to convey her name slightly before saying it, however on my first two reads I thought she just referencing the Virgin Mary and so I was confused as to why Maria was referred to by name now without being introduced as it.
I would suggest either calling her Mary in the beginning seeing as she’s a friend like (said Mary, who was currently being worked on by Carmella) or having her actually called Maria by someone.
When they speak there’s a lot of relationships introduced and moved past very quickly, and sometimes the timeline is hard.
Like they ask Madelaine about Declan like they’re still talking or like they were a recent thing, but her response makes it feel like they split up years ago and aren’t on good terms to me.
Carmella also goes from tending to one of the girl’s hair to the other with no mention of the switch, so it’s hard for me especially because here:
> Maria strolled across the salon to team up against her friend.
It clarifies that she wasn’t next to them before, so it was hard for me to pin down really what was happening. My biggest suggestion is I feel like there’s a lot of information that could’ve been split into two chapters so we could get more detail on each of them.
I like the nicknames, and you do well categorizing them as pretty big asshole which I assume is the point, mafia people and all.
I like the chapter, I feel like the characters were clearly defined. I think it got a touch overkill at moments but I still get a very clear picture of them. Good words!
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u/Morose_Prose 15h ago
Greetings Forward!
Did a quick edit to better establish character blocking in the scene based on your wonderful critique. One quick thing I'd like to add: they bring up Declan since they are going down memory lane, maybe Madelaine calling him a "busy little leprechaun" is a callback to a previous chapter, like some of the others. There is a character database in the pinned comment of 'The Family Business' subreddit (linked at the bottom of the story, along with some background information about the criminal underworld) for ease of access to refresh the reader's memory of characters introduced so far.
Thank you for the wonderful crit, it is much appreciated! Stay awesome and have a good one.
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u/JKHmattox 7h ago edited 12m ago
<No Man's Land> Walking With the Fire of the Night Sky
Four orange-sized hand grenades bounced against the trucks marred in the roadway. I subconsciously braced for the follow-on detonations, which never came. In random succession, each sphere cracked open, pneumatic hissing preceding a burgeoning display of replication.
Several gelatinous masses expanded rapidly from the orbs—growing together until they enveloped the trucks. Thick roots spiked themselves into the pavement, jagged tendrils weaving across the ground, anchoring the vehicles in place.
“What the fuck, Gunny?” I exclaimed, the artificial growths slowing to a subtle wobble after the last truck disappeared.
“I'm getting too old for this gunfighter bullshit,” Diane Campbell grumbled.
“You said it, not me,” I razed.
Diane smirked. “Piss off, Owens.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Those were non-lethals, weren't they?”
“Less-lethal, Owens—there's a difference.”
I glanced at the dead woman laying facedown on the roadway beside me. “I can see that…”
“That cunt?” Diane scuffed. “She had it coming—boss lady—one of those soulless, mercenary types who would kill their own nana if you paid her enough.
“Most of ‘em are recent ex-conscripts—after their obligations are up with the Feds, sketchy interstellar security companies throw money at these kids—nothing but human fodder for profit if you ask me…”
“How’d you get tangled up in all this, Gunny?”
“I'm retired now, Jackie—It's just Diane.”
“Could've fooled me,” I chuckled. “The question remains, Diane; how'd you end up in a truck full of mercenaries…”
“Shortly after I got out; Moxie and I tracked down another one of the Tradesman’s star-freighters—what we found was beyond words…”
My gut churned as the scar on my face burned with remembrance. Just his name was enough to uncork what I'd been suppressing for over a year. With trembling hands, I forced myself to speak.
“What did you find…?”
“Xavier Cyun and the Feds subjected hundreds of adult women to the same twisted alterations as your wife—the results were always the same; an infertile copy of the Earth-type human male, incapable of sustaining humanity’s genetic integrity.
Desperate, the scientists turned to juvenile Nobodies after they found adult human DNA far too implacable.”
“Sick bastard!” I clenched four fists in rage.
“The galaxy is never as it appears, Jackie—when Xavier Cyun found out what the scientists were doing, he slaughtered them all, and destroyed their research…”
I said nothing, while digesting the impossibility.
Diane placed a primary hand on my shoulder. “Reckon everybody has a line they won't cross, Jackie—even Xavier Cyun…”
“Fucking hell…!” I exclaimed, my voice trailing off as my understanding of the galaxy shifted.
“Mox sniffed out a data trail that led us to a security conglomerate owned by none other than Jessica Vincente…”
“The intergalactic real estate mogul…?” I exclaimed.
“Hayup…” Diane Campbell nodded while hoisting herself to her feet.
Dusting herself off, the veteran warfighter offered me a primary hand. I grasped it, and she gripped my forearm with her corresponding axillary palm. Grunting, she pulled me from the ground with her left two arms, while she balanced against the truck with her rights.
“C'mon, Sergeant,” Diane grumbled with a hint of pride. “We better get you back to your team.”
We walked side by side in silence, each on either edge of the paved roadway. Our movements were naturally synchronized as if we'd never stopped patrolling the arid deserts of Nowhere together. Neither led nor followed, but rather we were a singular predatory entity, moving in two bodies as one. Every noise, every smell, every shift in the wind registered at the same moment, our instincts perfectly tuned to one another.
We froze, the echo of rotors against the gnarled ash trees peaking our interest.
“Must be the cas-evac bird,” I said at just above a whisper.
Diane glanced skyward, her energy rifle raising with her gaze. The tandem drumbeats grew louder until the silhouette of the rotorcraft broke over a nearby treeline. The winged helicopter screamed overhead just above the treetops, its forward facing blades dragging the fuselage along at three hundred knots.
“That ain't no slick-sided dust-off…” growled Diane, her head turning to follow the aircraft as it zipped across the sky. “That's a fucking gunship!”
We took off at a deep sprint towards the safe-house after the gunship disappeared beyond the trees.
“Two-Five!” I shouted into my comms microphone. “Pérez—Clarkson—Boyko! ALAMO-ALAMO-ALAMO! Enemy gunship inbound—take cover!”
“Enemy what!?” Clarkson replied. “Holy fuck, that's a big-”
I screamed as the first blaze of gatling fire rumbled over the treetops. “Nooooo!”
My chest burned with every stride, feet churning against the hardball as the unseen gunship fired continuously. Its rotorblades barked against the sky as it pitched upwards, the black dragonfly-like rotorcraft appearing briefly as it banked around for another gun-run.
White-hot flares jettisoned from the tail of the gunship as it turned about. Smoke trailed after the mini projectiles in a rain of fire meant to confuse an incoming threat. We stopped at a rise in the roadway, stunned into silence as an anti-aircraft missile detonated behind the gunship, black shrapnel narrowly missing the fuselage. The helicopter dove, its main gun blazing at the ground as it disappeared behind the trees once more.
We sprinted towards the roar of gunfire and rotorblades. Tracers arched into the sky in every direction. My chest heaved with effort, breath roaring in my ears, as our boots thundered against the pavement.
A shriek pierced my eardrums, followed by the rumblings of an explosion. We burst from the last treeline obscuring the Waffle House, the scene desperate and confused. My eyes grew wide when I saw her, my Sky Fire uncovered and in the open, facing down the gunship.
“Light that motherfucker up!” Shouted Diane.
Skye took aim with a shoulder-fired missile. The gunship banked hard, its nose pitching around to bare down on my wife standing alone in the car park. The Geminia-turned-human was calm as a hickey stomp, unyielding as she waited for the perfect moment.
I snapped my weapon into my shoulder, took aim, and let fly countless uranium-tipped slugs on full-auto.
WHOOSH!
BOOM…!
2
u/ForwardSavings318 7h ago
Hello JKH, glad to know we didn’t just get blown up this chapter.
> “Sick bastard!” I raged.
There’s a few moments like this where we get emotion, but because this is 1st POV I would’ve liked to get more inner monologue and more about how hard some of this information hits, especially with Jackie having a spouse suffering from this very thing.
> It's not what you think, Jackie—when Xavier Cyun found out what the scientists were doing, he murdered them all
I cannot blame him, but you spell his name Cyan before this than Cyun again after, I’m not sure which one you meant.
> “Must be the cas-evac bird,” I said at just above a whisper.
Don’t think at is necessary here.
> Its rotorblades barked against the sky as it pitched upwards,
I believe rotor blade is two words.
Good chapter! I love the action and the way you make the machines/weaponry feel so imposing. Very tense.
Plus who doesn’t love gaunt gunships in their chapter?
0
u/ZLErikson 12h ago edited 2h ago
<Casting Shadows>
Chapter 129
Cass rolled her eyes, reached over, and gave Anatu a light shove. Enough to send them sliding sideways and scrambling not to fall off of their camel.
“That is not funny!” Anatu yelled, dropping their torch into the sand and clinging to the saddle and reins with all of their strength.
Cass chuckled. She reached over, grabbed Anatu’s ankle. She pulled on their sandal strap first, but it ripped and the footwear fell to the ground. Cass grabbed Anatu around their shin next - being very careful not to squeeze - and slowly pulled them back up far enough for them to regain control over their own balance.
“Sure looked funny,” Cass said.
Anatu’s lips quivered as they seemed on the verge of saying something. Their face reddened as the silence stretched into seconds.
Before they could find the words, an approaching light from behind caught both Anatu and Cass’s attention.
Fariba rode closer to them; one hand guiding the two camels pulling their cart, the other waving one of their torches.
“Cassandra the Mighty!” Fariba said, slotting the torch back into a sconce beside their seat. “Anatu the Majestic! Fariba sees the two of you bickering and squabbling like children.”
“We’re not bickering,” Cass said.
“We’re not children,” Anatu said simultaneously.
“Roughhousing then.” Fariba waved their hand dismissively. “Cassandra the Strong must be more careful when pushing around those smaller and less mighty! You would crack Anatu as easy as an egg.”
Cass rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t going to-”
Anatu raised their hand toward Cass and interrupted her. “No, no, they have a point.”
“Of course Fariba has a point. Fariba only speaks when there is a point to be made. Wasting words is not a profitable habit to have, and all of Fariba’s habits are profitable.”
Cass closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or groan. Sometimes Fariba’s ego was entertaining, and sometimes it was annoying.
Fariba continued, “The solution to your differences is very simple. The three of us shall all, this morning, when we have constructed our camp, take part in guided meditation.”
Cass glanced at Anatu, who met her look. They were just as baffled by the suggestion as she was.
“Fariba of Shen can read the faces of the both of you,” Fariba said. “Na’aas experts you are not. Why do you doubt the efficacy of advice and the sheer wealth of experience Fariba offers?”
“I don’t even know what ‘meditation’ is,” Cass said.
“It’s sitting and breathing and being alone with your thoughts.” Anatu’s dry response made the experience sound quite unpleasant.
“Well, those are the last thing I want to be alone with.”
“Bahhhh!” Fariba dropped the reins to swipe Anatu’s words out of the air. “That is among the most gross of poorly formed descriptions for intentional effect that have ever been uttered in Fariba’s presence. The art of meditation is far more empowering and impactful than simply sitting in silent contemplation.”
“But that is a major component of it.” Anatu nodded their head knowingly. “I have tried meditation before, and found that it did not suit me.” She looked across to Cass and said, “But you should sit with Fariba. Try something new.”
“There are many forms that meditation may take,” Fariba said. “Give Fariba’s guidance an attempt. As a reward, the cask of fine Sammosan wine Fariba has carried many leagues will be opened for us to enjoy.”
“Wine?” Cass asked. “Count me in.”
“I’ll still pass.” Anatu shook their head.
“Afraid of trying something new?” Cass smirked at Anatu.
“I’ve had Sammosan wine already,” Anatu said. “It’s not to my taste.”
“Where’d you get Sammosan wine?”
“From some merchant, why?”
Cass cocked her head to the side, trying to remember the timeline of the war. “When would you have been in Sammos?”
“What do you mean? I got it from a trader in Semperia.” Anatu’s thin, straw-colored eyebrows furrowed together. “You know traders and merchants like Fariba exist specifically to take goods from one place to another, yes?”
Cass’s face flushed with heat. “I know that,” she said. “I’ve just never had anything from Sammos since last time I was there.”
“You haven’t?”
“I didn’t deal with merchants during the war.”
“But before the war you did, didn’t you?”
“I was a slave.”
Silence fell. Cass didn’t like to remember the time before the war, but she did like how Anatu looked away from her and fidgeted on their saddle.
Cass was content to let them stew in the shame for the rest of the night.
“For certain there must be common ground between two such interesting and worldly people as you two,” Fariba said.
“We’re both alive after the war, that’s something,” Cass said. She looked at Anatu for agreement, but they were staring fixedly ahead.
Fariba continued, “Come now, Cassandra. Certainly all who are alive to have such conversations can proclaim common ground of surviving to the point of having such a conversation. What is there that you know of Anatu that you approve of? Fariba of Shen is almost certain that there are depths to your erstwhile enemy, now travel companion and ally, that you would wish to know more of.”
Cass exhaled slowly through her nose and closed her eyes. Truth be told, she did not know much about Anatu. They were on opposing sides for most of the war, then Anatu became a turncoat to curry favor with the rebellion. They were an advisor of some sort, and whenever they showed up they had a haughty, superior tone that grated Cass.
“Well, when we started this journey a couple of weeks ago, I saw Anatu do this really neat throwy-flippy fighting style when Nuut tried to kill me,” Cass said. “I’d like to know more about that.”
“A ‘throwy-flippy’ manner of fighting?” Fariba’s eager tone was directed at Anatu. “For certain this is something that you could tell Cassandra the Great and Powerful much and more about, yes?”
----------
WC: 999/1000
All crit/feedback welcome!
r/ZLErikson
[Chapter Index]
Notes:
- Theme: Fariba is entrenched in the idea of making Anatu and Cass friends
- Bonus words: Egg, ego, Eager
- Bonus constraint: Anatu lost their sandal (old-timey shoe) when they nearly fell off their camel
- 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 12 in-universe days since Chapter 1
- “Na’aas” is based on the game “As-Nas” which is an ancient middle-eastern precursor to poker
- Semperia is the capital city of Harenae (Iuven’s nation of origin, based on the aesthetics of the ancient Roman Empire)
- Anatu’s “throwy-flippy” fighting style was shown in Chapter 19
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u/ForwardSavings318 11h ago
Hey ZLE, you know the deal.
> She pulled on their sandal strap first, but it ripped and the footwear fell off the camel.
This strikes me as a little odd, just read to me like the sandal was hanging from the camel rather than being worn.
> Fariba rode closer to them; one hand guiding the two camels pulling his cart, the other waving one of their torches.
Fariba gets referred to by two sets of pronouns here, not sure if they just have multiple pronouns but it’s they/them a vast majority of the time.
That’s mostly it. As always you write a very good chapter and use your word limit perfectly. The dialogue is great, the characters are great, it just flows so nicely.
1
u/ZLErikson 2h ago
Howdy Forward!
Thank you for the feedback. Good eye on those two little oddities. You'd think after writing this for three years I'd have stopped messing up pronouns but @.@ The brain is an old man brain.
Anywho, fixed both of those incongruences. Thanks again and thank you for the compliments.
Also, thanks for reading!
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