MULTIPLY Wordsmiths Challenge #3: The Killer

Killing is not easy; you have to think it over very carefully. I remember the assignment I had in Dallas; now that was many years ago. I got away with it; some poor old Joe Doe was accused. I had a good group behind me, who planned it in detail from the beginning. They never showed their faces, but I am sure it was something to do with the government. Anyhow after that job, they told me to leave the country otherwise there would be trouble ahead. That was when I decided a trip over the pond would be a good thing. No death sentence there, not that I was out to be caught, but these days you cannot be sure of anyone or anything.

You have to follow certain rules of course; no-one is the born killer. I remember Flashy Jack, that was what we called him. He always wanted to be the best, but you don’t shoot your victim in a restaurant in front of everyone. He was asking to be caught. I soon got known around town, they told me that the gang down in the East was being pushed out of business by Big Fat Lloyd. So what did I do? That was easy. One evening I walked into the Sneaky Rat, the joint that belonged to Fat Lloyd. I naturally wore a tight pink number, showing all my curves and Fat Lloyd just could not resist that.

“Hi, baby, new around here” was his ideal of starting a conversation.

Generally I would have told him where to get off, but I had a mission

“I sure am” was my answer “do you want to show me the routine?”.

Well he did, and his first night spent with me was his last. They never did find his body, but I know how things work. I just phoned the chief of the East gang, and asked what it was worth to him that Fat Lloyd was no longer breathing. He was over the moon, really thrilled, so I told him to get his cleaners down to Fat Lloyd’s place and remove the evidence. I think the remains were finally feeding the fish in the local river. Concrete feet always did stop anything floating to the surface.

I was in, oh yes, Jimmie, the East gang chief just fell in love with me at first sight. It was just too bad that Jimmie started double crossing me. He spent too much time in the Sneaky Rat, which now belonged to Jimmie, thanks to me, and started trying the goods out. Now either he is my man, or he is not. So, I am sorry to say Jimmie had to go. I decided to do this one all official. I just dropped a note to the police to say he was planning to rob a bullion transport. Jimmie told me just everything. I even put blanks in his gun to make sure he would not hurt anyone; too bad that Jimmie got hurt; the police shot him as he opened fire.

So here I am a widow, just don’t have any luck in life. Although things turned to the best when I told the nice policemen how Jimmy had lied to me all his life after I handed over the details I found in his desk of the gang and the jobs they had pulled together. They even gave me a job in Scotland Yard. I started as a normal secretary, but after sleeping my way through a few bosses, I soon got promoted. One of them even died with a heart attack, something to do with the wrong medicine he took.

Anyhow here I am today, one of the best members of the English secret service. Now I always said, if you have a gift, then you should use it. I often get sent on missions abroad. The next job is in Libya, but that will be a difficult one; have not yet worked out how to do it. Advantage is being a lady; I can hide myself under their robes.

MULTIPLY Picture Perfect: Urban

Switzerland is not only a country of picturesque villages with old-world chalets and cows living on green pastures. We actually do have a working population and old estates put up in the 1950's where people live in their appartments and go about their daily lives. This photo shows part of the town near where I live, near to the station. The area was more or less built up by large companies supply living space for their workers. Over the years some of the companies exist no more, and the appartments have changed hands, but it is living space. In the large tall building on the ground floor even one of the town physio therapists has his practice. The shop on the left used to be a sales center for Robert Bosch products, the factory being just along the road, but even that has changed hands.

So presenting a little bit of urban Switzerland.

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MULTIPLY Creative Challenge #70: Disguise

Once a year I can disguise myself
Cast off the daily details of me
Become a figure of my imagination
The world lays at my feet to choose
Perhaps a witch, dark and forbidding
A mysterious figure hiding under her spells
Who will kiss this Japanese geisha
Waiting for the man who chooses
A cat woman meowing for her feline delights
Or just a fairy with gossamer wings
Waving her wand to catch a lover
The choice is wide, we are all hiding
But at midnight the truth is uncovered
Beneath the mask the real face appears
Many are shocked, many surprised
And many true romances begin at carnival time.

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MULTIPLY United Friends Challenge #179: Gunfight at Sagebrush City or Low Noon

Qwith's Challenge

Write 500 words or less in a fiction genre you don't normally read or like.
Here are your choices:

Epic (It's short so think of world building)
Historical (from Greek to Egyptian to Queen Elizabeth to WWII-doesn't matter)
Gothic (Elements of Horror and Romance)
Spy Fiction Thriller (any setting)

For ideas, I suggest looking them at Wikipedia.

This is a challenge to stretch your writing skills so I know that writers will try something different. The kind of characters that you choose to use won't matter so long as the genre is something you don't normally like or read.
Happy Writing!

The sun was high in the sky flooding the high street of Sagebrush City with its harsh light. Two men were standing opposite each other, Jake Silver and Lloyd Finnegan their hands poised over their guns ready to draw.

Sam Bellows, the barkeeper, was collecting money from the townsfolk that were watching. They were placing bets on who would win the shoot out. Old Ben Wigger had put his rocking chair on the sidewalk, for a good place to watch. Little Jimmy Crocker was sitting next to his ma. He was excited. It was the first gun dual he was about to witness.

The town mayor started counting. At the call of three the gunmen were to draw and shoot. There was suddenly an interruption.

“Just what do you think you’re doing with that gun Jake Silver.” It was his wife Caitlynn. She spit out a wad of tobacco she was chewing and continued.

“I been cooking dinner all morning and now it’s gone noon. I ain’t doing that for a hobby, so come home and eat.”

“And that goes for you too Lloyd.” JoBeth Finnegan was also there. “Just what do you think you are playing at?”

“But Caitlynn” spoke Jake “this is a shoot out. I was having a quiet card game with Lloyd in the saloon and he gone and called me out cheating. Now I don’t take that insult from any man in this town, so I is defending my honour.”

“You is defending what? You ain’t got no honour and what do you think you gonna do with that gun. Why you ain’t never killed an opossum. I even have to strangle the chickens myself.”

“Yeh, now Caitlyn got something there. And Lloyd just what you doing calling Jake a cheat and where you get the money for gambling? From my housekeeping money in grandma’s beer glass. I saw that there ain’t none left. Some of that money was from Caitlyn for the chickens I sold her last week.”

“Now JoBeth I don’t like being made a fool of and that Jake Silver took my money with his cheatin’ cards” answered Lloyd.

“Now I got some words to say” spoke Caitlynn. “Jake Silver you give that money back. You ain’t got no business gambling in that saloon and that would be JoBeth’s money, so you give it to JoBeth.”

“Did you hear Lloyd, Caitlynn knows who that money is, and it sure ain’t yours to gamble away in that saloon. Thank you Caitlynn, ‘bout time those men know who has the trousers on in the family.”

“But Caitlynn, I won that money fair.”

“I don’t care how you won it Jake, just give it back. And if you wanna do some shootin, then go out in my vegetable patch and shoot a couple of them rabbits that keep eatin up all the green stuff.”

And that was the day that Caitlyn Silver and JoBeth Finnegan solved one of the wars of the Wild West.

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MULTIPLY Writer's Block Challenge #66: Who care's?

The beamer was ready. Was she dressed right? The manual for earth visits said blue jeans, black t-shirt and white flat leather running shoes with three blue stripes on each side. The first rule on Earth was not to be noticed. Just do not stand out in the crowd. She had given her brother Gandy a list of what to bring on his last trip to earth based on what she had seen on the earth TV programmes and what her brother had told her. Jag was hurrying. She had prepared everything, but now was the time for a quick escape. She had to go now. Gandy was already dead after being caught and Jag was the next one on the list. The Instructor had been killed and his men wanted revenge.

She jumped in and pressed the button. Her body seemed to be floating for a few minutes and then she felt fine. Well almost, although she was wondering how these earth people managed with those jeans. Everything seemed to be a bit tight, but the shoes were good. She could run fast with those. She left the beamer which actually resembled a car, an old Ford to be exact. She took the keys with her and threw them down the next drain she saw. There was no returning.

She was just about to turn the next street corner when she felt a blast of warm air and turned to see a second beamer arriving and three men wearing dark trousers and long raincoats climbing out. They were already on her trail. She walked on and was taken aback by the humans she saw. They were walking next to each other, or behind each other, not looking right or left. They all seemed to have a purpose in the direction they took. She saw many blue jeans and t-shirts, although the t-shirt designs mostly seemed to have the same emblem and all were in the same colours, also black but with a white stripe along the arm.. It reminded her of the army on her own planet, just walking ahead and disregarding everything and all wearing the same clothes.

She again remembered the words in the manual for behaviour. “Look down, not straight ahead, avoid eye contact with the aliens.” That was not difficult she found, no-one seemed to regard the other. All were only interested in their own business.

“Suits me” she thought and continued, but heard a voice behind her.

“There she is” and one of the men in the raincoat was almost upon her. She walked faster and just followed the people in front. Many of them turned to the left and so she also turned left and found that they were entering a large building. Jag moved as fast as she could, the men at her heels, but then she had to stop. The people she was following were standing in rows and at they giving something up as they entered the building. She saw that it was not actually a building, but just an entrance. Inside it was open and there was a large field with seats surrounding it. They had tickets and Jag had none. She looked in the manual once again, but there was nothing about tickets. She was confused, but her followers were not confused. They were standing, watching and waiting. They approached her and there was no escape. Then she saw the red light on her jeans, travelling upwards to her t-shirt. There was no noise, no sound, she just felt the impact of the bullet and dropped to the floor.

“That job is dealt with” said one of the men in the raincoat. The others nodded.

“Should be getting back” said the other.

And the men walked together returning to their beamer. Their beamer resembled a telephone cabin and they entered one after the other. The street was empty, no-one noticed as the cabin dissolved into thin air, it just disappeared.

And Jag. She just lay on the ground, she had been killed. The people were still showing their tickets to enter the football stadium. It was an international game, a qualifying match for the world cup. Tickets were expensive and many of the people were glad to have at last had their dream fulfilled of seeing their country’s team play. Thoughts crossed some minds. “Today’s youngsters just cannot leave those drugs alone and now they just lay in the street.” On that day many people walked passed Jag’s body. They had something more important to do. Some even stepped over her. After all it was none of their business.

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MULTIPLY The Horror of it all #7: A Head too many

The sword was still sharp, despite the heads that had rolled that day. Its blade was dripping red with the blood of its victims. How he was tired of this war, but he knew, if it is not the other, then it will be me. He felt a sting in the back of his neck and another head rolled, but this time it was different. He was not looking at a stranger, a number in the crowd of men coming towards him, no. It was his head looking up, with eyes that saw no more.

A plain spread out in front of him, wide and white, almost blinding, but there in the centre was a giant waiting for him, perhaps. Its head was watching him approach. The closer he got the more details he saw. A head, perhaps female, with hair drifting onto its shoulders. And the eyes: there was something evil in those eyes. Something was drawing him, pulling him into its clutches. Then he saw the door, the entrance.

“We are ready for you” the words resounded throughout the barren landscape. It should have been cold, as cold as the ice fields to the right and left of the monster, but he felt no cold, felt no warmth, his body was numb.

“Is this hell?” he asked, his words echoing through the emptiness of the air.

“Hell is where you find it” spoke the colossus. “Do you think you deserve hell?” was its question

“I found hell on the battlefield, killing and decapitating my antagonists. It was them or myself.”

“And now it is you. Your life is terminated. You now meet the final test.”

“My life has been one test? Do I again endure the horrors of combat, of killing men that were strangers. Their only crime being that they worship another god, or speak a different language.”

“Here the killing is finished. Death is conclusive - there is no return. Look into my cloak.”

The cloak became misty and then it cleared. He saw once again the battlefield, but there was no action. Just bodies laying one by one, the grass coloured red from the bloodshed of the battle. He looked closer and knew something was wrong. There was a large pit dug by the prisoners of this war, those that lost, and the bodies were being collected and piled into the pit. He was startled as he saw a head that he recognised, his own face with its unseeing eyes and mouth that would no longer be able to kiss his wife in a warm embrace. He then realised this was his end in a war he never wanted; a King who wanted more, more land, more wealth, and above all more power. He was just a small piece of the machinery turning to satisfy his King, but his King was wrong and he lost.

The scene changed and he saw his wife and children, marching along a road surrounded by other victims of a never-ending bottomless war; the children crying and their mother hugging them close. He again looked up at the figure,

There was a change. The hard face of the giant had become softer, her eyes also had tears and she looked at the soldier.

“The door is open, enter, you will now find the peace you have been craving for.”

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