Very Short Stories

Avatar image for the_weatherman
The WeatherMan

3261

Forum Posts

1427

Wiki Points

0

Followers

Reviews: 2

User Lists: 0

Edited By The WeatherMan

For my blog, I thought it be fitting to make it about writing. On here, I will post short stories, less than 2000 words, which could be about anything that I felt like writing about. Feel free to read them. The first one is about Gambler and Final Arrow, thought I'd make it a bit special by having two characters that we know in it.    
 
   Their swords clashed like lightning, if lightning was made out of metal. It was raining on top of the Order of Sancta Camisia’s headquarters, the bleak clouds moving low over the rooftops of the town, the moon like an eager peeping tom, trying to see the magnificent bout in-between the curtains of clouds. The rain fell down briskly and quickly, as if trying to match the intensity of the sword bout. To the inhabitants of the town, their clashes would sound nothing more than the booming thunder to accompany the rain and everyone who knew the real truth was already dead.

   They had not said a word for the past hour, dueling without a sign of fatigue or repentance in their eyes. The man that was known as Final Arrow had a crimson sword in his hands, his most formidable weapon. He moved its heavy weight as if it was a mere feather. He was wearing a black overcoat that fluttered behind him gracefully, almost majestically, despite the numerous blood stains sprayed across it. A mask was drawn across his face with horrifying demonic image with suppressed red color pouring out from the places where his eyes would have been. The entire attire was meant to inspire great fear in the minds of his enemies, and it never failed to do so, except to the man he was facing now.

   Gambler’s physical prowess matched his opponent perfectly. His usual battle uniform also with dabbles of blood, covered over by a brown trench coat, was being filled with pouring sweat as he continued to keep up with the demonic man in front of him. His sword was less heavy than Final Arrow's and no less durable, forged from the greatest metals and strengthened by sacred magical rituals. A hint of utter disgust was drawn across his face, but he hid it well, focusing completely on the battle at hand.

   Their complete mastery of combat was displayed at its very peak as they simply circled one another on the rooftop, not giving the other an inch of distance in retreat. For every feint, the other would make a counter, for every surgical strike, the other would produce a perfect block. To an untrained eye it looked as if the two combatants were dancing to music only audible to them, circling each other continuously. Their swords were moving much too quickly for an untrained eye to notice anything but sliver of silver and crimson making slight whistling noises as they intertwined around each other. Each time their swords met, a shower of sparks would emerge, spraying wildly in all directions. The roof tiles had been long gone from the power that surged between them.

   “Why? Why dee hell did you do dhis, mon ami?” Gambler finally broke down and spoke after a powerful strike pushed them both backwards. He kept his sword up, but his face had a deep line of lament on it.
   “Ugh… Gh… Arrow isn’t in right now, but you can speak to him directly when I send you to hell!” Arrow twitched strangely, but not without keeping his sword up also, before replying in an unfathomably gruff and devilish voice.
   “Let me talk to him!” Gambler’s newfound rage sprained extra strength into his sword as it clashed against the swaying blade of his opponent. The adrenaline pumped even harder as Gambler continued his assault, every clash of swords making him angrier, pushing his abilities through the roof of his limit. Arrow’s defense continued to be impeccable, although he was slightly taken aback by the newfound might of the blows, not noticing three aces that flew at his chest, glowing bright pink as they made a powerful explosion.
   Arrow was knocked off his feet and the entire roof of the building collapsed. Gambler leaped over the smocking hole in the roof and landed next to the mess of cloaks that now lay in front of him. Arrow’s demonic mask was lying on top of the pile, also seemingly unoccupied. Suddenly, it was as if the cloaks became a liquid as multiple ripples became to spread across it until they finally parted, revealing a naked man crouched in its midst. The liquid black cloaks continued to revolve around him, covering up almost all of Arrow but his face.
   “I’m sorry, old friend… I thought I could control it, I thought this was for the better… Such power!” The man he saw before him was indeed Arrow without any parts of his otherworldly inhabitant. His tone of voice had an enormous amount of remorse, but it also sounded absolutely lost in its grief. He did not dare to even look up at Gambler as he talked.
   “You single handedly murdered every one of the Order of Sancta Camisia, incapacitated dee Weather Man and managed to frame a different hero for a different murder, sending mi on a wild goose chase. We worked for dhis for ages, Arrow. We worked for dee Order to be what it is today. Why would you destroy it?” Gambler’s sadness was only masked by his absolute bewilderment that he hid throughout the entire battle. He looked down at Arrow like at a brother who had misbehaved.
   “This beast… It feasts on my soul but it gave me such power… But it needed more souls for me to sustain it… You know of its power Gambler, you of all the people know how much this demon god had aided our quests…” Arrow finally managed to look up, his shadowy cloak continuously revolving around him like the rings revolve around Saturn. His face was distorted, much older and work out with a great amount of wrinkles. His eyes flashed multiple times with crimson red and his face changed from tearful remorse to insatiable greed, the demonic power unwilling to rest inside him, demanding to be let out, but Arrow held on.
   “I do know, mon ami. I do. But why us? Why dee Order?” Gambler signed sadly, letting his sword rest upon his shoulder, remembering all the times Arrow’s demonic powers would become godlike. Gambler had the bringer of apocalypse for a friend, which felt empowering to the point of arrogance.
   “It wants evil… I tried… to give it good souls but… it wants evil… Souls of those who… ahh… it feeds on it… Oh crap…” Arrow lurched over, holding his stomach in terrible pain that eviscerated his entire body. Suddenly his skin began to bulge and rip, as if something was trying to get out.
   “And that’s why you will make the most delicious platter on tonight’s course! RAAAGHH!” The demon had finally enveloped Final Arrow inside itself completely, rising out from the ground, towering over Gambler like a monstrous skyscraper. Gambler reached out for the deck of cards in his back pocket, smugly brushing the dirt that the monster raised with its power off his shoulder. He picked out four aces from the deck without looking.
   “Sorry mon ami. I don’t think so.”    

Avatar image for the_weatherman
The WeatherMan

3261

Forum Posts

1427

Wiki Points

0

Followers

Reviews: 2

User Lists: 0

#2  Edited By The WeatherMan

Yeah a mistype, I'll fix it in a bit. I was writing this while pretty tired so, coulda committed a mistake, lol

Avatar image for the_ghostshell
The_Ghostshell

84302

Forum Posts

11204

Wiki Points

0

Followers

Reviews: 3

User Lists: 1

#4  Edited By The_Ghostshell

I'm a star. (tight story so far)

Avatar image for darkchild
Darkchild

43720

Forum Posts

20944

Wiki Points

0

Followers

Reviews: 22

User Lists: 12

#5  Edited By Darkchild

Sweet story man

Avatar image for michaelthefly
MichaeltheFly

6651

Forum Posts

50889

Wiki Points

0

Followers

Reviews: 0

User Lists: 26

#6  Edited By MichaeltheFly

Great story.

Avatar image for lt1085
LT1085

3677

Forum Posts

0

Wiki Points

0

Followers

Reviews: 0

User Lists: 0

#7  Edited By LT1085

This seems strange to me: 
 “Sorry mon ami, you were a good friend. But I don’t think so.”  
"Sorry (my friend), you were a good friend. But I don't think so" 

Avatar image for the_weatherman
The WeatherMan

3261

Forum Posts

1427

Wiki Points

0

Followers

Reviews: 2

User Lists: 0

#8  Edited By The WeatherMan
@LT1085:
Oh crap! I didn't think about it, Gambler says it all the time so I thought it was just like a phrase that doesn't really mean anything, like "dude" or "man" or something. I'll fix it. Thank you.
Avatar image for the_weatherman
The WeatherMan

3261

Forum Posts

1427

Wiki Points

0

Followers

Reviews: 2

User Lists: 0

#9  Edited By The WeatherMan

Another story. This one is slower and more drawn out, kinda like a character driven thing. Check it out.
    
   She opened her eyes quickly, as if something had startled her from her sleep. She wiped across her face, trying to gather away the bits of sleep that continued to nag at her to go back to bed. She didn’t turn the lights on as she put on a simple and clean black dress with an open back, letting the room continue dreaming while basking in the glow of the moon that gently flowed in from the window. After exiting her spacious room, she found herself in the narrow and cramped hallway, with monotone windows going all the way down to both ends. It was eerily quiet. Her soft footsteps across the rough carpet were the only noise in the hallway. None of the other rooms had any noise emanating from them and all the windows were shut. She yawned openly, glad that nobody was there to notice her do it and continued her walk outside, feeling like she was the only one inhabiting this magnificent ship.
   She stood alone on the very front deck of the huge cruise boat, facing the waves as the wild sea wind swept through her magnificent black hair. She had dark brown eyes, narrow seated cheekbones and a pointy nose, along with a white smile that was like a camera flash, for it could capture the attention of the entire room. Her long standing gym membership resulted in a slim, young figure that was now enveloped in the black dress. She breathed in the fresh sea air, letting the sight of the infinite horizon take firm hold of her insides, making her marvel at its mind boggling beauty. She closed her eyes while smiling, not noticing that a male figure had emerged from the stairs behind her.
   He walked softly on his Converse shoes, his hands buried deep inside his jean pockets. She didn’t even notice him until he was leaning against the failing beside her.
   “Hey. Gorgeous night isn’t it?” He spoke to her calmly, while looking up at the huge moon far above them.
   “Mhm. It is.” She turned her head to the right to look at him, but he didn’t look back towards her, continued to gaze at the moon.
   “Not as gorgeous as you though. But that goes without saying.” There was some awkwardness in his voice as he gave her the compliment, but she smiled lovingly at him. She moved her hand over to his and patted it. He firmly grabbed her fingers, letting them run between his. There was a certain delicate subtlety in the air that he was afraid to ruin with his voice, so he just continued to stare out onto the stars that peered from the clear skies and through the darkness. They were so close he could swear if he reached out he could touch one.
   “How soon do you think we’ll be there?” She looked at him with a question on her face, tilting her head playfully to the side.
   “I’m not really sure Jess. Could be a while… Could be tomorrow…” He sighed heavily and continued to not look at her. He stared at the insurmountable depth of the dark ocean in the night, listened to the rapturous  roar of its waves as they crashed against the boat and hoped that maybe, just for a minute, he could borrow the ocean’s immeasurable confidence.
   “Could be forever…” She sighed back while speaking much softer, almost whispering. She turned back to face the ocean and squinted her eyes, as if trying to make out the final destination of their journey through the darkness of the night.
   “You think it’s nice there?” She asked a question that rang hollow and pointless, out of an urge to continue exchanging words because the silence was becoming heavy on both of their consciousnesses.
   “I dunno… I mean, it’s not like we got a brochure or anything.” His answer did nothing to lessen the guilty feeling. The fingers on his other hand continued to tap across the metal rail. “Honestly, I don’t really care. I have you.” He added afterwards and like an unwound spring, it eased the tension that was scattered across her face.
   “Hmm. So then, why won’t you look at me?” She felt a sudden twinge that went through his whole body, like an unexpected cold wind had just blown through him. He didn’t turn to her for a few more long seconds, continuing to gaze up at the moon. She noticed how the gleams in his eyes became thicker, but he nodded them away before they would become tears. He finally turned to face her with a look of utter shame and cowardice plea written on her face. It was difficult for him to face such regret, but he bravely kept looking right at the gaping fissure drawn across her neck with a knife.
   “I’m so… Sorry… I wish that word meant something more, because I feel so much more sorry than I can say to you… I’m sorry…” He blurted out, his hand trembling as it unsteadily held her. Her yawning wound was now completely dry and even though it wasn’t that large, it was still horrifying for him to stare at on somebody he had always held so closely.
   “It’s okay… We got what we deserved…” She reached up and touched the huge hole on the side of his head that was turned away from her the whole time. It was a bullet hole. The gunpowder marks around it were visible in the moonlight. She wasn’t disgusted, but mesmerized by the sight of it, running her fingers across it. She let her hand fall and turned back to the sea, staring out and unable to face him back. He didn’t move, standing there as if frozen, drinking her beauty in with his eyes and even swallowing the nasty poison that was the gaping fissure on her neck. He continued to apologetically gaze at her, waiting for something to change, but nothing did. They were both locked onto this ship, sailing into the unknown lands of failed lovers. They did not know how much time had passed since they stood like this, but the moon had fallen below the waves and the first glimpses of the sun as red as their death blows began to peek out. They continued to stand still, basking in the warmth of sunlight, hopelessly hoping that there still might be a chance for them somewhere beyond the ethereal horizon towards which they were sailing.
   She suddenly turned to him once more, the wind lifting her hair up and making them float like a beautiful black flag. She put her hands around his neck, carelessly smiling right at him. The sunrise behind her was like the beacon of newfound hope inside his chest.
   “Hey John?”
   “Yeah…”
   “Kiss me.”