Do Not Push - A Short Story [#16]

Long story? What long story? I don't know what you're talking about, here's another short and silly tale instead.

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            "Do Not Push," the big red button on the hallway wall was labeled. Its polished surface glistened in the afternoon sunlight.

            "Well obviously I must press it," Anne nodded to herself. As she reached her hand out in defiance of the button's warning it was quickly snatched.

            "Can't you read," her sister Margaret scolded. "See here," Margaret forced her sister's head in front of the label, "Do Not Push."

            "But I must press it," Anne complained, "I have to know what it does. I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering."

            "Do. Not. Push." Margaret affirmed as a malevolent smile grew wide on her face. Anne pouted and pleaded, but eventually relented to her sister's wishes. Anne was then dragged off by her sister to attend afternoon tea and the matter of the button was settled. For all of five minutes. The moment Margaret was distracted Anne reemerged in the hallway.

            "Obviously I must press it," Anne repeated as she made a beeline for the forbidden button. With no sister to interrupt she pressed the big red button without a moment of hesitation. What followed was a magnificent display of flame and combustion, that consumed attention for miles around. A spectacle which neither sister would soon forget. Although in fairness, Margaret's wrath immediately following left a much deeper impact on poor, little Anne. One can only hope she learned her lesson.

            Some months later Anne was on a stroll down a hallway when a familiar sight caught her eye. "Do Not Push," the big blue button on the hallway wall was labeled. Its polished surface glistened in the evening moonlight.

            "Well obviously I must press it," Anne nodded to herself. As she reached for the mysterious button an equally familiar chill ran up her spine. Out of the corner of her eye Anne could see her sister just around the corner, with the same false smile across her face. "On second thought perhaps not," Anne changed her mind before she took a brisk walk out of her sister's sight.

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Okay so the long story is on a "it's done when it's done" schedule. In the meantime I dug up and polished some silly stories I had lying around.
As for this story specifically, I like it. It's probably the goofiest and most nonsensical thing I've written in a long while, but that's why I like it. I'm on a streak of silly stories right now though, I really need to write something that isn't overtly silly. Maybe something introspective or just calming? I'll figure something out.
Until then Read, Comment and Enjoy.

The Most Epic Battle - A Short Story [#15]

 Here's something short and silly to buy some more time for my bigger story.

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            "What are you doing?" I asked my friend, who stood in the middle of the forest, engaged in a staring contest with a wooden doll.

            "Isn't it obvious?" He brushed off my question.

            "I'd rather not assume," I stated.

            "I'm in a pitched battle for the fate of the world," he proclaimed.

            "Really?" I replied, "So, if you fail no more world?"

            "Exactly." He affirmed, "So stop distracting me."

            "Okay," I agreed and backed away slowly. Now normally I wouldn't take anything he says at face value. However, this little skit was weird enough that I've decided not to touch it with a ten foot pole.

            "I have you now," he declared victory against his supposed enemy. I on the other hand continued my escape until I could no longer hear his countless proclamations.

            "Why am I friend's with him again?" I asked myself, "Maybe I should make a habit of avoiding him for a while." As I neared the tree line the sound of an explosion swept the area, and almost knocked me off my feet. As I regained my bearing a terrible thought crept into my mind. "Please don't let that be him," I turned on my heel and ran back into the forest. I can only hope he won his battle, or better yet this has nothing to do with him.

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I don't know about this story, it feels iffy to me. Maybe it's just a little too silly. My next story will likely be a lot more serious in comparison, at least in the sense it won't be focused on comedy.
Until then Read, Comment and Enjoy.

Information Necromancy - A Short Story [#14]

You know how I said I was writing a longer story? Well I'm still stuck on that one, so here's something silly I wrote in the meantime.

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            It has all come to this, the moon is full, the sacrifices have been made and the dark powers whisper in my ears. With this act my army of the dead shall rise and lay waste to the mortal realm.

            "By the powers of darkness and in the name of the forgotten gods." I chanted in the night, "Rise my undead horde, rise and obey my commands." With the chant complete I slammed my ancient spell book forward. A jolt of magical energy surged forth that ripped through the burial ground in front of me. With this bolt of magic the bodies of the dead stirred once again. Soon skeletons, zombies and ghouls of many shapes and sizes would emerge from the ground ready to follow my command. Any second now...

            Minutes passed before I realized the dead had yet to answer my call. I repeated the incantation once more, but I was greeted by the same results. My spell had failed.

            "This is nonsense," I yelled as I whipped out my cell phone and dialed the only people who could help me.

            "You've reached IN (Information Necromancy) Support. Please give me your name and ID number," A woman's voice answered.

            "Batroc the Darkener," I replied, "6161616."

            "Okay Lord Darkener," she continued, "how may I help you today."

            "My undead horde refuses to rise from their graves." I described my plight, "I've done the incantation and cast the spell, but they won't respond."

            "Okay sir," she ruffled some papers, "Let me go over a quick checklist with you to see if you're missing anything."

            "Fine whatever," I tapped my foot impatiently.

            "So do you have your dark circle inscribed on the ground?" She asked.

            "Of course," I scoffed.

            "Is your spell book up to date?" She continued.

            "Obviously," I growled.

            "Is your selected burial ground at least 150 years of age, and did at least 70% of those buried there die in some form of tragedy?" The IN Support Woman inquired.

            "Y-yes, I think," I fumbled, "It's Manchester Heights graveyard, it was built in the 1800s. It's where they buried coal miners who died on the job."

            "Okay sir, but let me quickly double check that." The woman typed on her computer, "I'm sorry Lord Darkener, but it says here Manchester Heights graveyard was built 78 years ago in the 1900s."

            "What!" I yelled, "That can't be right."

            "Lord Darkener I believe you're thinking of Manchester Oak graveyard." the IN woman explained, "It's only twenty miles away from Manchester Heights."

            "What am I supposed to do now," I screamed into the phone, "I need this army for tomorrow."

            "There is no need to yell Lord Darkener." she assured me, "You may have to switch to a different spell if you want to raise the dead in that graveyard." Switch to a different spell, is she mad? If I had such a spell I wouldn't have called her in the first place.

            "I want to speak to your supervisor," I demanded.

            "Certainly sir," she agreed and transferred me. By the forgotten gods I'm going to raise my army tonight and I won't stop until someone tells me what I want to hear. 

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I've read so many Tech Support horror stories that this one came naturally. Just replace the computer with spell books and zombies. As for that longer story I mentioned earlier, I have no idea when I'll finish that. It's half-way done at least, and I have other stories I can post in the meantime.
Until then, Read, Comment and Enjoy.
(Also, does this story count as Urban Fantasy? I'm going to say it does, you know for marketability.)

Leap of Fools - A Short Story [#13]

Inspiration: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/YQO56

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            "I'm going to do it," he shouted.

            "Don't do it," I warned him for the eight time.

            "I can make it," he proclaimed.

            "No you won't," I tried to stop him.

            "Here I go," he leapt from the stone bridge right onto the hilt of the giant statue's sword. By some miracle he stuck the landing and avoided injury. "Ha, told you I could make it."

            "Okay you made it," I relented, "Now how do you get down." He opened his mouth to say something, but the words never came. Instead he looked down to see that the platform he stood was well over a hundred feet above the ground. There was also no way he could jump back to the bridge. It was just high enough and just far enough away for the jump to be impossible. That height difference helped him reach the hilt of the giant statue's sword, but now it doomed him.

            "Don't worry I can figure this out," he assured as he scratched his chin in thought.

            "You do that," I sighed. As I grew bored of watching him wrack his brain my attention turned towards the statue's head, and today's original problem. I saw our dear friend Stephen still stranded up there. I don't know how he managed to get himself up there in the first place, but now I have two idiots trapped on this statue. If we're lucky, which is a big if, we'll make it out of here with only one or two broken bones each. Let's hope we haven't spent that luck already.

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Today's story was loosely inspired by an artwork by Kou Takano linked here.

Not much to say here. Just a small story that I had lying around and decided to tweak a little and upload. Look forward to a longer story next Tuesday.
Rate, Comment and Enjoy.

Gas Station Wizard - A Short Story [#12]

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            "By the power of the Jadespring and the flames of Yorkshire I command thee to reignite thine flame!" The robed man screamed into my car's engine to no effect.

            "Is this going to take long?" I asked the older man.

            "The flames of Yorkshire are temperamental and wild," the robed man explained. "I must not rush the process less they rampage throughout the land. Besides there are some propane tanks not ten meters away, so I'd rather not risk it."

            "Okay I get it," I sighed. This is what I get for going to a gas station wizard, but those auto shop wizards charge criminal amounts so I didn't have a choice.

            "Spirits of the metal behemoth awaken," the wizard chanted while he waved his arms. The engine responded with a tiny puff of smoke. "Oh dear," he mumbled.

            "What is it?" I inquired in concern.

            "An infestation of malevolent spirits has rendered your mount inert!" The robed man exclaimed. "Either that or your cooling system has gone bad."

            "Wonderful," I deadpanned, "So regardless I'm looking at a couple hundred dollar fix?"

            "Well neither is a simple task," the wizard scratched his beard, "but yeah. Maybe even several hundred if you're unlucky." Well, there goes this month's budget.

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It doesn't get more urban fantasy than this. I sat on this story idea for a while before actually writing it, and I regret every minute I spent delaying it, this was a fun story to write.
I've got a sizeable story in the pipeline right now, but I don't know if it'll go up this Thursday or next Tuesday. Until then, Read, Comment and Enjoy.