Friday, July 26, 2013

Weekly Challenge - Random Plot Generator

Pleased to say I have another piece of fiction to put up.  This week the challenge was to use a random plot generator and write the first one it gave.  Me being me, I of course generated a few and brainstormed until one appealed to me.

The plot I used was "The story starts when your protagonist is forced into a car at gunpoint. Another character is an attorney who invents strange machines."

I'm actually really pleased with this one (probably could use more editing).  The opening was easy to visualize and start writing, and while I had an idea for the rest it evolved into it's own work really quickly.  Making me invent new characters, changing the plan I had but in a good way.  Yeah, really pleased.


A Deal

            “Get in.”
            The dark metal of the gun barrel gleamed in the light from the street lamp.  With the tinted window rolled half down I could just make out the features of a grizzled old pusher with his hand on the trigger.
            Far be it for me to turn down a nice warm car ride on a rainy night.
            I opened the door and climbed inside.  Grizzly slid over to make room, keeping the gun trained on me as he handed me a bundle of sackcloth.
            “You know the drill.”
            A glance at the driver showed he wasn’t planning to take any part in this debate, but his posture made it clear he also wasn’t going to put the car in gear until I was blindfolded.
            With a sigh I pulled the bag over my head.
            I heard the soft click of the gun’s safety, but I didn’t make a move.  Grizzly tied my hands with a light knot, keeping them in my lap.  I must not be in too much trouble then, if there was a real problem they wouldn’t make it this easy.
            Driver finally put the engine in gear and we started moving.
            I could hear the steady patter of rain on the car’s roof and the splash of puddles as we hit potholes.  The bounce sometimes enough to knock me around my seat since neither of my escorts had me wear a seatbelt, but that was just another sign that tonight was just going to be a talk.
            When we finally stopped about an hour later I already knew what our destination was.
            I waited for Grizzly to open the door and pull me out.  I reached toward the hood but stopped when he pressed the gun barrel into my back and used it to guide me forward.
            I shrugged internally and just kept walking, noting when we had gone inside by the feel of the floor.  I could have turned towards the correct room but I let Grizzly guide me instead.
            Stopping after a few turns I felt a bright light overhead as Grizzly pushed me into a chair and pulled off the hood.
            Walters sat on the other side of the table, pristine white suit shining in the light.  The ever present cigar pinched in his teeth, unlit so no ashes would be spilled.
            “Do you mind?”  I asked, holding up my hands, “They’re starting to chafe.”
            Walters waved his hand and Grizzly untied me.
            “Coffee?”  Walters asked.
            We waited as a girl, healthy young thing who looked good for someone paying off a drug debt, served us.  I waved off her offer of ‘sugar’ as Walters generously poured white powder into his own cup.
            “I understand you have a new toy for us?”  He asked.
            I made a show of taking a drink, knowing how he lived for the theatrics.
            Putting the cup down I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a metal cube the size of my fist.  I activated it with a tap and watched it unfold into the shape of a scorpion.
            I looked up at Walters and arched an eyebrow.
            Walters nodded to Grizzly, who placed an uncut brick of white on the table.
            The scorpion immediately became animated and crawled off my hand.  Skittering over to the brick it quickly attacked it.  Spearing the brick with its tail and using its claws to cut and shape, it carved out smaller, perfectly dimensioned cubes. 
            Job done, it crawled back to my hand and with another tap, folded itself back into a cube.
            My job was done.

            Walters agreed to the usual price easily enough and I had an order for a full supply of what he was already calling his new cutters.
            Driver dropped me off where they found me, and I gave the hood back to Grizzly as I stepped out of the car.
            Once they were out of sight I started walking, two streets down I ducked into an alley.  A quick jump to the fire escape and three fights up I was knocking on the apartment window of Marcus’ law office.
            Elyse opened the window and I climbed inside handing her my coat with a smile.
            “He’s in his workshop.” She said.
            “Of course he is.”  I smiled.
            I made my way down the hall, passing the office which doubled as his library and letting myself into the workshop.
            Marcus even looked up as I entered, unbending from the workbench with acrid smoke rising past him.  Putting his tools down he turned to me, the protective goggles made his eyes seem more inquisitive than usual and caused his hair to stick out in random directions.
            “How’d it go?”
            “He bought it, literally.”
            “Fantastic!” He said.
            “You’re sure this is a good idea?  We’re making it easier for him to peddle cocaine.”
            “It’s fine, I told you what the scorpion does.  When it strikes it injects untraceable chemicals into the drug that will cause the user to lose their addiction.  Soon Walters won’t have any customers.  And the more he uses these, the faster that will happen.”
            “And the faster he’ll find someone to blame.”
            “That’s where you come in Detective, you know where all his warehouses are thanks to the tracking bugs I built.  When the time is right, break your cover and strike.  Surely you must have enough to arrest him by now.”
            “When you came to me I was hoping you’d have enough to bring him in right away, you are his lawyer after all.”
            “I had enough to lock him up, but not to destroy his cartel.  But that’s the best part, when he calls for me to defend him we can take down his entire operation!”
            I thought about that, it almost felt too easy.  But then, Walters wasn’t exactly the smartest crime lord I’d ever tried to bust.
            Anyone who takes that much crack with his coffee probably fried his brain years ago.

Friday, July 19, 2013


Metafiction is a tricky beast.  Any form of meta-artwork is supposed to draw attention to itself as art while using the styles of that art.

Spider-man making a joke about superheroes isn't meta.  Deadpool is meta because he knows he's fiction and takes every chance to break the fourth wall using comic book narration boxes and even grabbing the frames on the page.

But moving on; yes, it's Friday.  And that means a short story!  Last week the challenge over at Terribleminds was to write the last line of a story.  This week Chuck took ten of those lines and challenged his auidence to use them as the opening to a story.

It ended up being extremely short, but I kinda like how it flows.  As always, I hope you enjoy.

            Once upon a time, there was a story so short, it was only a single line.
            This is not that story.
            This is not the story where the strapping young Hero saves the girl and wins the kingdom, and it’s not the story where he saves the kingdom and wins the girl.
            This is the story of the Hero who does not know he is.
            In this story the Hero still goes on his Quest.  In this story the Hero’s family dies in front of him, forcing him out of his humble beginnings and into a Legend beyond his comprehension.
            But in this story there is no Loyal Companion, no Wise Mentor to advise our Hero and instruct him in the old ways.
            The Hero is left to fend for himself, to find his own way in a world that he was never prepared to experience.
            Somehow, against the odds, the Hero still finds himself allies.  The Rouge, the Rival, the Redeemed.  He finds these allies and learns to rely on them for support, to help find his way as their skills complement his own.
            They make their way together in the Hero’s adventure, sometimes managing to resolve their own stories along the way, sometimes not.  The Hero trusts them with his life, with his hope.
            Only to eventually lose his allies, his friends.
            The Rival is first to fall, taking a blow meant to slay the Hero, using his sacrifice to prove himself the better of the two.
            The Redeemed soon gives his life as well, facing his own past and falling as he slays the demons of his own creation.
            The Rouge, if only by virtue of his skill, stays with the Hero the longest.  Finally leaving this world in the dead of night, the true cause of his death as mysterious as he was.
            The Hero blames himself each time.  “If only I was stronger.  If only I was better.”
            “If only I was a Hero.”
            The Hero grows in skill and stature, in myth and legend.  Eventually coming to understand his destiny, driving himself ever forward.  Shouldering his losses, embracing his burdens, accepting his fate.
            The Hero faces foes and fiends, men and monsters.  Pressing onward he begins to see the end of his journey.
           The path of his life, beginning to end, is laid before him.  The Hero sees the truth of this, and steps forward to face the end.
            Because this is not the story of the glory of the Hero.
            This is the story where the Villain wins.
            This is my story.
            Let’s begin.