Thursday, February 27, 2014

#ThursThreads - Month of Love Sci-Fi Theme - Week 110

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked for the Month of Love Themed Challenge. It's Thursday today, so what should you be doing? Writing #FlashFiction, that's what, and writing it to the theme of Science Fiction today. This doesn't necessarily mean sex or romance, but the setting must be science fiction based. Welcome to Week 110 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Need the usual rules? Read on.

Here's how it works:
  • The prompt is a line from the previous week's winning tale.
  • The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
Rules to the Game:
  • This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
  • Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
  • Post your story in the comments section of this post
  • Include your word count (or be excluded from judging)
  • Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)
  • The challenge is open 7 AM to 7 PM Pacific Time
  • The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up.
How it benefits you:
  • You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we're all about promotion - you know you are!)
  • You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
  • Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, and Google Plus

Our Judge for Week 110:

Wildlife biologist, dream chaser, and F/F sci-fi author, Cathy Pegau.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:

Why should I?”

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck.

And just because we love them, here is a Judge's Badge for our lovely and talented judges this month.


  1. I glanced up from my console when the motion light went on outside. Gree wasn't due home for hours, and neither of us were expecting any deliveries. The snow wouldn't set it off, and there hadn't been any critters big enough to trigger it in months.

    So, when there was a knock on the door, I was suspicious, annoyed, and armed. I activated the intercom and waited.

    "Open up." The voice might have been familiar, or it might have been the wind making it seem like it was.

    "Why should I?"

    "Because it's fucking cold as your third ball out here, Rey."

    Well, that answered that. I buzzed the lock and went back to work by way of the kitchen, putting on a pot of coffee. Whatever he wanted could wait until he was warm and civil, as far as I was concerned.

    Or he could tromp in and track snow and blood all over my carpet. Again.

    My brother was /such/ an asshole.


  2. “Well of course you can get it in bronze,” the dealer assured her. His enhanced eyes were wide in his triangular face. “We pride ourselves on having our machines fully customizable.”

    Ara nodded, lips pressed tightly together. Should I do this? she wondered. Why should I? What benefit can I possibly gain?

    “Madam, I sense you are undecided. Would you like to take a test ride?”

    Her heart jumped and ran at the suggestion. “Is that even possible?”

    His smile showed perfect teeth of the not-quite-blinding shade of white. It was a popular look. “Of course it is, for a client such as yourself. Your reputation does precede you, Madam.”

    Mouth dry, she walked around the model, noting the smooth lines and powerful equipment. A test ride on this? Flicking her tongue over her lip, she nodded. “Sure. Sure, I can do that. Yes, thank you.”

    “Grand. Come, we’ll get a bronze model all prepped for you.”


    “Indeed. Here is the robing room.”

    The walls dimmed as she disrobed, giving her a sense of intimacy that she craved. Then, a curtain purred, disappearing in one breathless moment.

    “Hello,” the bronze intercourse model said, its voice smooth and warm. “Would you like a ride?”

    “I’d love to,” she murmured, pulse pounding.

    He reclined on the waiting platform, all of his—its!—equipment on display. “Then come.”

    She did.

    Later, as she signed the contract, she told the sales representative. “I think I’m in love.”

    “You’re not the first.”

    = = =
    250 words

  3. The moonlight trickled into the room with a slight breeze that made the sheer drapes dance on the polished wooden floor. The white satin sheet, covering her soft curves, shimmered in the moonlight with her breaths.

    The sharp sound of the floorboards protesting woke her. She sat up and the sheet slid into her lap, revealing her full breasts. Her eyes widened, scouring the shadows for the source of the disturbance to her dreams. She stood, pulled her thin robe from the foot of the bed and glided to the open window as she put on the robe.

    “The sound,” she thought. “It must have been an animal outside.”

    She stood in the mystical light for a moment, then turned back to the bed. She froze. He stood between her and the bed, shirt open, revealing his masculine form. He reached his hands to her.

    “It is time. Come with me.” he said; his smooth voice caressed her ears and she put her hands out to take his.

    Just before she put herself into his warm embrace, she stopped.

    “Why should I?” she asked and dropped her hands away from his, then took a step backwards.

    “It is time. It is what you desired.”

    The reassurance and confidence of his voice, made her want to run into his arms and take his embrace. She wanted to know the heat of his breath on her neck, the strength of his hands holding her, but she did not move from the spot.

    250 Words

    1. There is now conversation at my job about what the man looks

  4. Crouched on a concrete ledge overlooking a dilapidated park, Istvan Tor ignored the grumble of his stomach and the itch of his canines. He hadn't fed in two days and blood wasn't nearly as plentiful as before the Fall. He inhaled, taking in the scents of rain and muck, an undefinable stench he'd prefer not to identify. Storm's coming.

    A shriek rent the heavy air followed by raucous laughter and malicious taunts. Istvan gazed into an alley below where a woman struggled in the grip of two males. Since the Fall, all women had become fair game for "breeding". The term pissed Istvan off on many levels. Women equated more than walking uteruses to him.

    "Leave me alone, you bastards!"

    "You should do as she says." Istvan settled his body into hunting mode, sliding one of his daggers from its sheath.

    The men turned. "Why should I, asshole? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

    "I don't think, I know who I am."

    Istvan darted behind the scarred man, slicing his throat. His grunt became a panicked gurgle as he fell. Fly Guy released the woman to get to the pistol hanging on his hip, but Istvan tossed a wood shard at him. He drove his shoulder into Fly Guy's chest, knocking him down.

    Istvan focused on the dying thug and listened to his stomach growl. I'm hungry. A slow grin twisted his lips and exposed his canines.

    "What the fuck are you?"

    The simplest answer seemed best. "Death."

    250 ineligible #WIP500 words

  5. High up in the bubble that now sustained their lives, the few humans stared across at the whirlwinds of snow which blew across the plains. A constant humming of a machine kept the air flowing and into the terrarium that grew the plants they ate. Nearby the bubble that contained the barn could be transversed from, smells wafted up from the animals kept there. Pig manure and cow manure and chicken excrement’s filled the nostrils of the woman who sought out the man.
    “So this is where you were hiding,” she said.
    “It hardly to believe all of these started with someone not thinking, ‘Why should I?’ but Why shouldn’t I use more power take everything from the earth,” he thought aloud, “If it wasn’t for you and your preparations, our family would be dead like everyone else on earth. But how long can we prosper like this?”
    “I made the preparations carefully. You know the bubble is within a cliff side, far above the most poison air and floods below.”
    “Our children will never know fresh air, green grass, or blue skies.”
    “No, they won’t. But they’ll live and one day when the earth renews itself our great-great-great-grandchildren will be there to enjoy it.”
    “We have to make sure they understand how vital and fragile the earth is.”
    “We will. We’ll make sure that each generation tells the story of how the earth was destroyed and how our family survived.”
    “It’s a plan now let’s milk Bessie, she’s mooing.”
    249 words

  6. Cynthia Gardner methodically observed her image in the mirror, carefully tuning the texture around her eyes, shifting the position of nano-machines, projecting just the right color in just the right space. Getting the details right was important. She had to look human. Real. She even practiced breathing, moving her abdomen and chest like real humans did when they breathed.
    She looked at the pictures of clothing from the magazines on her table, and carefully shifted parts of herself around, forming the image of shoes, denim jeans, a bra, and a loose-fitting t-shirt.

    She practiced moving, watching her hair. It wasn’t easy to get the individual hairs on her head to move realistically.

    “Perhaps I should develop a relationship with a human male.” It would be difficult. She would need to simulate all the proper body parts to convince a male they were real.

    “Laura, at work, speaks of her male friend.” She recalled the way Laura’s eyes and body moved when she spoke of him. The subtle shifts in her biochemistry, blood flow, and skin temperature. Laura often said, “He’s so hot. And he knows what a girl likes.”

    Cynthia made sure her lips were the proper shade of lipstick red. She remembered Laura saying, “Girl, you need to find a man.”

    “Why should I?”

    “It’d make you more human.”

    Cynthia knew, it was time to improve her simulation of a human female to include a pairing with a human male. So people would think she was more human.

    249 Words

  7. Once in a …

    Hands on her hips, her daughter stood defiant. Gracie took in Analisa’s short blue spiked hair with its black tips. With the style replicator, tomorrow it could be long and its natural blond again. Teens these days didn’t get commitment or consequences.

    “You don’t understand. The Earth will only be visible, like, this once, in a hundred years. Steffen’s on his way. ”

    Gracie shut her eyes, and mentally counted back from ten. Steffen. She should like him, always polite, dressed in Dockstars or pressed jeans he’d picked up from a secondhand store. His mom knit him sweaters, for goddess’ sake. Underneath the sparkling green eyes and alluring smile, something darker lurked. The skin on the back of her neck tweaked when he cast a sidelong glance at her, thinking she wasn’t watching him.

    Nothing ever happened, but it didn’t mean nothing ever would. He was waiting, for something. Maybe it was her overprotective mothering senses on hyper-alert.

    “Are you even listening to me Mom? You gotta let me go!”

    Analisa stomped her foot, and Gracie bit her lower lip to suppress a smile.

    Oh, she remembered those days, emotion and misguided passion fueling a rebellion against the unjust world. That’s when she’d run away from home, and the same planet her no-longer-little girl now had become fascinated with.

    “Why should I?”

    222 words

  8. I cannot recognize this sun. What has been done to it?

    I spent my youth with my face to the night skies, night in, night out, year after year. All that time? Wasted now, as the alignment is completely askew.

    Everything is out of sync, all known outlines of constellations are out the window.

    Where am I? And where are all the stars I’ve come to know in such detail?

    The red sun that rises is not my sun.

    You smile—show me the way.

    That is all I need, to keep going.

    The Universe.

    Why should I?




    Word count: 100 on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011

  9. Screeching to a halt inside the gates, he leapt out of the car into a cloud of lunar dust. "Why should I?" The furry creature scuttled out after him, jabbering, and Angela sighed. Despite its resemblance to a Terran teddy bear, an aura of menace hung over the brown, silky alien.

    "Because it's necessary. Because it's kind. Because it's eventually going to reach breeding age."

    "I've handled some of the biggest species to arrive in the compound from across the galaxy. How can my little friend here be a problem?" He stroked the thing’s rounded ears.
    Angela eyed the creature. Perhaps the larger, more aggressive specimens they'd observed weren't the same species? "Then, just in case. I don't understand why you won't free him, send him back to his pack."
    "He's mine." Levon's eyes glittered with greed. "I caught him and I'm keeping him."
    Tired of arguing, she shrugged. “Do what you want, as always. I’m going into the dome. It’s nearly dinner time.” She trudged across the open courtyard. Levon would have his way, and their arranged marriage would never be happy.
    At a shriek, she glanced over her shoulder to see the adult version of the furry thing clutching Levon to its breast, long teeth sunk into the skin at his neck, blood spurting from a severed artery. She hit her shoulder com on the way inside. “Looks like we have our answer on that native species. ”
    240 words

  10. Hard Choices


    “Why should I?”

    “You have a lot to lose.”

    Lucha Obuchii looked up at her captor, her pupils narrowed to pinpricks and as rigid as stone, and smiled.

    It was true, she had everything to lose. Everything she had fought for, everything she had tried to protect, all of it could be lost in a single moment.

    “What do I have to win?” she replied, her voice soft and steady.

    “If you win, I let lover-boy go. I’ll let you keep what you stole, I’ll let you go, and I won’t call the authorities. You won’t ever hear from me again, provided you get out of this zone within 12 hours.”

    Her mouth became dry as she suddenly remembered the bed she and Hianti had spent together, such a short time ago.

    Could she give it all up, for him?

    “I’ll do it.”

    Sevio Elsin smiled and chuckled, picked up a flute of Icasean wine from the table and raised it to his lips.

    “Good; very good.”



    167 words

    1. Bah! I meant 'shared', not 'spent'...

  11. "Ramming speed."

    I faced the captain. "Sir. I respectfully disobey that order."

    A man three times my height, his green eyes bore into my soul. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer, his eyes turned dark jade. I stood my ground.

    "You will follow my orders, Commander."

    Watching the Carthan ship fill the viewscreen, I swallowed. "Sir. I ask that it be noted in the log that I refuse to follow this order. Further, sir, please note that as of 1500 hours, I have relieved the captain of his duties. Security, please escort the captain to his quarters and keep him under arrest there." Turning, I faced the bridge crew. "Full stop. Hail the Carthan ship."

    Hoping I'd still have my rank when this was over, I took a deep breath.

    "This is acting captain Monroe of the USS Statesmen. I extend a hand in peace."

    Biting my lip, I waited, as static hissed around the bridge. Then, the screen came to life. A large, bulbous, brown figure blinked back at me, three claws on each hand clicking together.

    "Why should I? You were going to kill us moments ago."

    "With all due respect, sir, I believe that peace talks would benefit both our races."

    The Carthan captain licked his thick lips, then slowly nodded. "Very well, then. Beam over at 0900 hours tomorrow morning."

    The screen winked out before I could agree. I sank into the captains chair and rubbed my face. At least we were still alive.

    250 words

  12. Ana stepped into her dark cottage to find Ric sitting at her kitchen table, legs propped with ankles crossed on a chair. Her heart skipped and her steps froze. What’s he doin’ here?

    She lifted the lantern, moved closer. “What do we have here?” Her eyes shot to Bran’s perch. “Thanks for the warning, friend.”

    “Caw!” Bran flapped at her and bobbed his head.

    “Don’t blame Bran. I bribed him with grapes.” Ric put his feet on the ground and straightened in his seat, smiled. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, Ana. I needed to talk to you.”

    She set the lantern on the table, her brow drawn. Please, no more bad news. “Is everything all right?”

    Ric nodded. “Yes, good, in fact. I have something for you. Something that couldn’t wait for morning.” His blank features showed no clues.

    Ana sat down in the chair opposite him, wiped damp palms on her skirt beneath the table. “Okay. You got me curious now. What is it?”

    He grinned. “Close your eyes.”

    She drew back. “What? Why should I?”

    Ric sighed, rolled his eyes. “So much for trust… can you just do it, please?”

    You’re bein’ silly, Ana. What do you think he’s gonna do? She closed her eyes and waited.

    “Now, hold out your hands.” His voice seemed closer, beside her ear, though she hadn’t heard him move around the table.

    232 WIP words

  13. My parents had loved me.

    Once upon a time, wish upon a star, and all that Old Earth fairy tale nonsense. I didn’t remember much—no names or faces—but I’d known love.

    I’d crossed a galaxy to find its mark.

    They’d left me. Why should I care so much why?

    The logic of the heart sucked.

    I found the ship in a salvage yard a parsec wide. The field of space litter stretched for light years across a pocket of starless space no one wanted. A shuttle fitted with an Alcubierre warp drive transported me to my destination in time to pound one Messier martini.

    Spacer’s courage.

    “You sure this is the one?” The shuttle captain gave me a cockeyed look. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, this here model is a classic. But she’s seen the final abyss.”

    “The Shadow, right?”

    “Ah—” He flicked through screens of ship registries. “Instated as Gaea’s Ark, Echo-Alpha-Five-Five-Victor in the Dark Speed Ages.” Translation: before wormhole travel became the norm. “AI transferred to the Shadow in—”

    “That’s my ship.”

    He flipped through data. “Registry says she got decommed twenty-two Galactic Standard years ago. You’ll be lucky if you can get the lights on.”

    “I’ll call if I need you.”

    Ten minutes later, I stepped onto the bridge of the Shadow, my rebreather the only sound.

    |Voice print identification.|

    A robotic female voice scared me damn near out of my suit.

    |Voice print identification.|

    “Uh—Bryant.” Please know me. “Raeythe Bryant.”

    250 WIP500 word

  14. She had to be stopped.

    Ruthless, power-hungry, and bloodthirsty, the Director of Indigenous Race Relations on Rasalas Five had climbed to her position over the bodies of innocent non-humans on a variety of worlds.

    “Why should I? There is nothing that you can offer me.”

    Her smile was cold. “How about Ace?”


    “I thought that would get your attention.”

    “Take me to him.”

    “When you complete the mission.”

    “Now. No Ace, no mission.”

    Chance stared her down until she nodded. “Very well.”

    As they rode the elevator to the basement Chance tried not to think about what he had to do. If Ace really was alive, he wouldn’t be for long.


    “Ace.” Pain tore through Chance’s joy.

    “All right. You’ve seen him, now do your job. Destroy Sahral Village.”


    “The Director thinks there’s a group of Rasalians planning to attack our base.”

    Chance held his partner’s gaze and Ace took a deep breath as an understanding passed between them. It had to be done.

    Their faces were wet with tears as they embraced one last time, their fingers pressing into each other’s spines, triggering relays that had been wired into them years before as their lips and tongues completed the circuit…

    For the love of humanity and all other races, she had to be stopped…

    Centuries later, Rasalian legends would tell of the bright light and silent explosion that destroyed the hated aliens and the strange home they had made on their world…

    246 words

  15. Bred from birth to obey, Sori held the whip even though she wanted to throw it onto the ground. Trentha, her “Dis,” raised Sori’s wrist.

    “Hold steady. One sharp flick and lift.”

    “Why should I?” Sori bit her tongue, too late. “I know,” she said before her Dis could speak. “It’s my duty.”

    “To become a good Dis.” Trentha took the whip. “Karie will never submit unless you make her.” An expert crack followed.

    “I’m not ready to marry,” Sori muttered.

    Trentha brought the whip down in crescent arc. “You will lay the whip across Karie’s back, and you will teach her to fear you. Here.”

    Sori flailed the whip, scowling. Give her a case to study and she could excel. This silly charade of dominance, however, made no sense.

    “Use your wrist,” Trentha chided.

    Sori flicked without success. “Why can’t I make Karie obey me another way? Why do I have to hurt her?”

    Trentha made Sori bend over the punishment bench and raised the whip. “Basti created us as Dis and Nur, one to rule and one to obey.”

    Sori’s body jerked at the cut of the leather. “Ow!”

    “Do you understand your duty?”

    Pain flooded Sori’s consciousness, crowding out every thought.

    “You will do anything to make this stop, won’t you?”

    Sori nodded, struggling for breath. Trentha took a step closer, brushing Sori’s hair with unexpected tenderness. “In Bastia, all must obey. Disobey at your own peril.”

    Sori wept as she gave herself to Basti’s divine will.

    250 words

  16. He shoved me hard toward the wall of his bedroom, face-first into the middle of his projected seawater aquarium. I blinked rapidly as a digital shark darted through my head and over my splayed hand.

    When you come from a planet made entirely of desert, the ocean is a constant source of fascination. I could say the same regarding his attraction to humans. We’re foreign and exotic…and forbidden by law. It’s the same on all planets. You always want what you can’t have.

    He trapped me against the wall with his heaving body. His incredibly big, sexy, reptilian body.

    Now, before you get all squirmy and disgusted, he’s not a reptile. Mostly. At least in the class Reptilia. We call his kind Amnimorphs because most of them came from the planet Amnio before it was destroyed. Gem is one of the last Amnimorphs alive born on his home planet. He’s a wonderful combination of humanoid and reptile, and I’ve spent my life studying his people.

    He bit down on the patch of exposed skin on the back of my neck and I moaned.

    “Submit, Professor,” he hissed, his forked tongue flicking at my hairline.

    I felt his stiff arousal against the cleft of my ass and I shuddered. "Why should I?”

    He ran his rough, near-scaled fingers over my arms and chuckled. “Because I want you as badly as you want me.”

    Hunter Frost

  17. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to see you next week.


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