The Vagaries of a Ruler

This is written for MondayMixer. The words are:

Things:          1) shank         2) vagary          3) demijohn

Verbs:           1) glint            2) entreat          3) elucidate

Adjectives:   1) louche        2) draconian      3) solicitous

All words have to be used as shown, except for the verbs. I have used all nine and am submitting for the Overachiever award, because I am a showoff.

The Vagaries of a Ruler

 

 

“It is your solicitous nature that put her onto you.”

Yi laughed. “Okay, let me elucidate things for you, my dear wife, our Empress prefers her men to be more…louche.”

Jiao snorted. “The vagaries of our ruler are well known, as is her hunger.  Please…” she took his hands, her eyes entreating him to stay.  

Yi shook his head, dismissing her concerns. “One does not simply refuse our ruler. Her punishments are draconian. If I fail to show she is likely to kill me. Then serve my head for dinner.

“She’ll eat you anyway… one way or another.”

***

 The Empress poured him a drink from a demijohn. As he drank, she looked him over. Yi was relieved she seemed pleased.  Then he saw the glint of hunger in her eyes and felt the bitter aftertaste of  poison. He was wrong though, it was his right shank she served for dinner.

Frienemies

This is written for #MondayMixer

I have to use one word from each category, but I can use 5 or more to be eligible for the over achiever award. I have used 7. (Sorry, I tried for 9, but I must be off my game.)

Things:         1) shandygaff   2) panacea      3) obloquy

Verbs:           1) protract       2) gambol         3) flense

Adjectives:   1) mingy          2) tortuous       3) nascent

 

Frienemies

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

 

Belinda smirked as she watched Eliza wave at John. Clueless, the girl moved to greet the man that Belinda had lay claim too. Her mistake. Belinda protracted a leg, tripping Eliza, who spilled her shandygaff on Elizabeth Barrett’s poodle.

“You mingy, little bitch,” Eliza said, turning on Belinda. “You did that on purpose!”

“Eliza… I’m… I’m sorry. I swear…”

“Spare me the tortuous explanation,” Eliza said, “he’s not yours and never will be.”

Belinda frowned. Everyone was watching to see how she would respond. “I’m sorry you think I would do anything to hurt you. I hoped we could be friends.” Then she stepped forward and whispered, “Back off, or I’ll flense the skin from your bones.” Then she smiled and stepped back, running her tongue across her nascent canines. Her stomach rumbled. She so hoped Eliza wouldn’t heed her warning. Her blood might be the panacea for her hunger.

 

Word Count:

150

#MondayMixer The Caged Bird Does Not Sing

This is written for #MondayMixer. The words this week are as follows:

 

 

Locations: 1) oubliette 2) cabaret 3) amphitheater
Things: 1) lanyard 2) drachma 3) shrike
Adjectives: 1) phlegmatic 2) commensurate 3) discordant

 

I have used all 9, an attempt to get the overachiever award and show my husband up. Yes... we have that kind of relationship. But he loves me anyway. (And I him.) 

 

The Caged Bird Does Not Sing

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

 

Clark held his badge over the sensor, his usual phlegmatic demeanor replaced by an impatience that threatened to break the door, if it didn’t open. Hearing the beep, he dropped his lanyard against his chest and stepped onto the elevator. He always felt as though he were descending into an oubliette.

The elevator music, something from a cabaret, served to worsen his mood. The discordant tones were more grating than a flock of shrike, all chirping at once. When the doors opened he rushed out and into the amphitheater that was his work area.

She was in the corner, his Drachma, his love. Somehow she’d broken her restraints.  Her ears were covered to drown out the shrieking of the alarms and she stared at him with hatred. Clark reached for his whip. Her beauty was commensurate with that of a Queen, why wouldn’t she let him worship her as such?

Word Count: 150

Holographic Adventure

Written for #MondayMixer. The words to be used are:

 

Locations: 1) aerie 2) stadium 3) embassy
Things: 1) opera 2) bathyscaphe 3) halberd
Adjectives: 1) vacuous 2) stentorian 3) acerbic

I used all 9. Wasn't going to until someone... we all know who...laughed and said, "Can't work them all in, can you?" Just for that I had to go an extra step...

 

 

Holographic Adventure

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

 

Looking up at the Terradactyl like creature, Quark gripped the halberd he’d chosen for his weapon as the Klingon bird screeched its disapproval. Inside the aerie a faint voice could be heard calling for help. 

“Can’t we just turn off the program; maybe go back to Sisco’s baseball stadium?”

“That would not be sporting.” Worf’s stentorian voice boomed his disapproval.

“How about a Klingon opera?”

“Leave it to you, Quark, to take the easy way out.” 

Odo’s  acerbic words stung.  Sometimes a Ferengi had to stand on principle. Rising to his full height of 5’6’’ he stared into the shapeshifters eyes.

“I have followed every vacuous rule of Bashir’s spy program, including fighting my way through a Cardassian Embassy and climbing into that dusty bathscaphe…  20,000 leagues under the sea, my lobes still have not recovered… but if that hew-man is so smart, let him rescue himself.  I’ve had enough.   

Word Count: 150

Afterimage

The amazingly talented Lori Fetters Lopes is hosting a contest. This is my entry based on the photo prompt. Check it out and the other stories... write one of your own. Seriously, you should try it. 175 words of good time.

Afterimage

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

 

Sarah woke from the nightmare, her scream dying as the afterimage of the dream faded. This was the third night in a row she’d woken covered in sweat, terrified of… what?  Aaron?  He was gone. Still, something was coming.

Padding to the bathroom she dropped her robe. Turning on the shower, she inspected her body in the mirror while the water heated up. The scars were fading, but the evidence of what Aaron had done to her was still there. At least she was safe now. She’d managed to kill him and that damn hell hound of his, barely escaping the cult with her life. Others had escaped too, but it was Sarah he had wanted, trying to take her with him.

As the steam surrounded her, she shivered remembering the fire.

“Hell can’t keep me from you,” he had promised as the flames consumed him.

Horrified, Sarah watched as a heavily bearded man and his dog appeared against the steamed glass. Screaming, she heard the growl of a dog right before the glass shattered.

Word Count: 175

Plague

Written for #DiabolicalDeeds

Leave a comment between now and the end of the #CoffinHop and 3 will be chosen at random to win a free Smashwords copy of Monsters!

Plague

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

 

Zagan stood over the putrid worm that had dared challenge his right to rule. The fetid minion looked up at his master, fear in his eyes, as it should be.

“Please forgive me,” he whimpered, his pathetic whine irritating Zagan. The faintest of an idea whispered in his head.

“What is it?” Chrone asked, his voice fearful of the zoic blob his master handed him.

“Her name is Zymosis, a gift from Pestilence.”

The creature shifted in Chrone’s hand, exploring his palm. The demon giggled. “It tickles…” he began, but then his laughter turned to screams as his hand dissolved.

Word Count: 100

Dangerous Games

Written for #DiabolicalDeeds

Dangerous Games

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

 

The caliginous interior of the bar was the perfect place for a clandestine meeting. Across from Helen, the man’s wolfish smile caused sensations throughout her body that George had failed to inspire in gods knew how long.

“So tall, dark and yummy,” she whispered, trailing a finger across his hand, “what’s your name?”

 Breathing in her scent, a low growl emanated from his throat. “Calu.”

 Helen laughed nervously, cacaesthesia settling over her as time seemed to slow.

“Calu,” she joked, trying to ease the tension, “Sounds like a drink.”

The demon smiled, revealing sharpened fangs. “Funny, you should mention drink.”

Word Count: 100

Alien Convention

Written for #ThursThreads

Alien Convention

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Thinking he had stepped into some weird version of The Twilight Zone Johnny Walker surveyed the room. Red, the color of crimson was splattered across the walls, mixed with a rainbow of green, blue and orange.

“I told you, they take this seriously.” Sean Franco shook his head, trying not to chuckle at his partners dazed look. It was his first year in town.

Before him, an alien with a large lobed head and sharp teeth sputtered indignantly.

“I want them arrested! This is NEVER going to come clean.” He gestured to his suit, an already gaudy color that even the most hardened pimp wouldn’t be caught dead in. A large collar rose up in the back, covering the back of his bald head. Johnny assumed he was referring to the red paintball splotches that  were soaking into the fabric. Behind him a bevy of women, dressed in costumes befitting Star Trek characters, giggled.

“You should thank me, Ferengi. I improved the look.” The woman leering down at the offended ‘Ferengi’, pointed a paint ball gun at him, shoving it into his chest.

“Did you see that officers, she threatened me.”

“Threatened you?” The woman laughed. “Ferengi, wait until tonight. You’ll see what threatened is.”

“Let’s go,” Sean said, turning towards the brothel door.

“Aren’t we going to arrest her? She did threaten him…I think.”

“Foreplay,” Sean said. “Get used to it. You should see Vegas when the Beany Baby convention comes to town.”

Word Count: 250

@jezri1

A Fair Trade

I originally wrote this for a weekly competition. 

A Fair Trade

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

“That didn’t take long…” George’s voice trailed off as I slipped off my coat.

Blood soaked my white blouse, the crimson spreading like a flower in violent bloom. I let the coat fall. My knees gave way. He caught me before I hit the floor.

“My God,” he whispered, easing me onto the couch. “What happened?”

“I killed her.”

“Killed who?” His hands hovered over me, searching for a wound. “Were you in a car accident?”

“No.”

“Then what happened? You said you were going to the store.”

“I lied. I went to see Sheila.”

“Tom’s wife? Why?”

“She called. She told me about the two of you.”

His face changed, just slightly. Enough.

“Linda, I would never.”

“She was pregnant.”

The color drained from him.

“Oh,” I said softly. “You didn’t know? She was going to leave Tom. She said you would leave me too.”

“That’s insane.”

“I told her you wouldn’t. I told her about the pre-nup you signed.” I held his gaze. “And then I realized something. The brakes. The gas leak. The broken basement step.”

I leaned forward. “They were not accidents.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“Maybe.”

I picked up my coat and reached into the pocket. The knife slid free, still wet and dark.

“But I think it’s a fair trade,” I said, lunging toward him, “for your life.”