This area is for short stories... how short? Any length you want! the point is, that these are non-continuable, non-group effort stories. Any genre is permissable.

By Yo' Daddy (Sol) on Tuesday, March 26, 2002 - 02:05 pm:

Once there was a man. He died.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Thursday, October 03, 2002 - 03:08 pm:

Hair hung across her face like a fine black lace curtain. Overgrown bangs reached past her prominent cheekbones, screening almond shaped eyes while turning them into depthless shadows against her pale countenance.

A worn grey sweater, it’s former shape long forgotten, hung loosely on her narrow frame. The collar was frayed, and one elbow threatened to poke through, it gave the overall impression of having been rescued from the Salvation Army’s rejects. Similarly, the former army fatigues she wore had obviously been made for some one several inches taller and pounds heavier. They were faded almost white in places, but like the rest of her clothing, were spotlessly clean.

“Half a pound, Lim, half. Stop trying to slip more on the scales,” her voice was like slowly leaking steam.

The butcher frowned at her, “You don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive, Missy.”

The faintest of smiles touched her pale lips, “Yet I endure,” she murmured.

The old man grumbled to himself in Chinese while he wrapped the chopped fish in heavy white paper.

“I am not as stubborn as a goat, you old monkey.”

Lim giggled, half embarrassed, half pleased, “I forgot,” he grinned at her gap toothed, “Who expects a girl who calls herself Suki to speak Cantonese?”

“I am a woman of many aspects Lim Soo Wei.”

She tucked her purchase into a large leather satchel, and moved away from the butcher. She stopped only once more, to buy a quart of goat’s milk from the Korean grocer, and then headed home.

Away from the bright lights of the market, the night was extraordinarily dark - moonless and overcast the only light was from the very few street lamps the city fathers had surrounded the distant park with. Suki, however, had no difficulty finding her way through the night. She walked at an unhurried pace, as if a small woman alone on city streets had nothing to be concerned about. Finally, she slipped down an alley, which was barely half as wide as the street.

The narrow stretch was amazingly clean; there were no winos or junkies, no garbage, only flat blank walls occasionally punctuated with bricked windows or basement doorways.

Suki stopped at a set of narrow stairs leading down to such a doorway. She reached behind the surrounding rail and picked up a foot long shallow pan and a cast aluminium pie tin. She poured the milk into the pan and placed it on the ground opposite the stairs. The chopped fish went into the pie tin, which she placed at the base of the railing. Finally she hiked herself up and sat on the top rail. Hissing gently between her teeth, she waited.

They slunk in cautiously. The feral cats of the neighborhood were long used to this ritual. The more timid took only the milk, staying as far from the strange, still figure as they possibly could. The more courageous old-timers advanced on the fish at her feet. These were the latest generation of alley cats to feed and be fed in the alley.

She waited, watching. The movement when it came was so quick it barely caused a ripple among the cats at the fish. There was a slight shift for better position, but most never even stopped eating.

Suki stroked the battered old tom that she now held in her lap. His startled expression relaxed as she soothed him.

“My apologies, old friend,” she whispered, “but as all are warned, there is a price - even for a free meal.”

The tom was almost asleep when she sank her fangs into it then she, too, fed.

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Thursday, October 03, 2002 - 03:10 pm:

It is October, kids. The above is my story for the season

By The One Known Only as (Greyfox) on Monday, October 07, 2002 - 09:45 am:

I saw this show before. Change the channel!

It is a good story though, I wish you had more about Suki... Which reminds me; why not a W.O.D. storyboard topic? With enough interest, I might just start one up. Usually, a new topic creates a buzz of renewed creative vigor, which oftentimes bleeds over into other topics. Lemme know, and I shall create...

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Tuesday, October 08, 2002 - 01:40 pm:

Sounds fine to me if there seems to be any interest. What about it masses? Interested?

By Technomage (Houdini) on Wednesday, October 09, 2002 - 05:31 am:

Uhh.. yeah, but, what is W.O.D.?

Oww..my brain hurts!

By Starlit simulacron (Ranger) on Wednesday, October 09, 2002 - 09:33 am:

World of Darkness
a universe by White Wolf which includes vampires, werewolves, wraiths, mages and others of that ilk.

By Nestor Fernandez (Blackhawk) on Wednesday, November 06, 2002 - 12:18 pm:

Greetings to all...

I am new to this site and welcome the opportunity to express my ideas with all of you. Please feel free to analyze and comment on my short essay.

Remember, be like water....

My story is of empathy, loyalty, love, vengeance, crime and punishment.The story travels back and forth through time in the minds of the characters. The story is narrated in a third party format. My attempt is to use historical data to tie the two different cultures into my play.

Essentially the main character is an american black man who was raised under the guidance of his stepfather. The stepfather is a Japanese national who became friends with his real father during WWII. This happened when they were stranded in a deserted island in the South Pacific. The Japanese stepfather believes he owes his life to his father and promises to be the child's guardian if he dies.

The stepfather is a Yakuza. He is a Machi-yakko Yakuza. This translates to a "City Servant". Still he is in the japanese mafia, no room for cowards!

N.Fernandez

By The One Known Only as (Greyfox) on Wednesday, November 06, 2002 - 12:26 pm:

ok, Nestor, so I can't wait to hear this story now... And welcome to LEV!

By Nestor Fernandez (Blackhawk) on Wednesday, November 06, 2002 - 05:41 pm:

The story begins...

Introduction...

Tuesday night January 8th, 2019, 9:00 p.m., in an undisclosed section, down by the docs in San Francisco. An area that at night is frequented only by the lowlife of the surrounding neighborhood. There is a dark wet misty street where rats and garbage lay about. Drunks are laying by the wayside. One or two, too drunk to know who and where they are. They speak to themselves in english, but this is a foreign tongue to most of us. Talking to themselves and remembering their demons of the past.

In the background we hear the low midrange sounds of fog horns as ships pass by at a distance. A car rolls down the street and stops to a slow screech. We look and at the end of the street a tall, well dressed man steps out of a cab and into a bar,
"8 BALL".
A big thick heavy fog permeates the surroundings, seen and felt ouside the window of the premises.

Heads turn as he steps in then quickly go back to their business as they see he is not recognizable.
He slowly walks to the far end of the bar, sits down and waits for the bartender to come over and pour one for him. The bartender is the only who recognizes him.

This one dimly lit bar with two or more patrons milling about-the ones we can see anyway. The rest are in the back. The bar "8 Ball" as it is known, has 6 or 7 people sitting about in different areas. Two or three are mingled in a dark corner whispering their next wicked deed. Two are sitting on bar stools. One is listlessly watching the television close to the window next to the entrance, almost in anticipation of someone he is expecting to meet.

At the other one end of the bar....

The other....

He comes in only on Tuesdays. Well dressed, long grey haired wizened with a beard. Pulls out a wad of money ignoring everything and everyone around him. By the end of the night he will look just like the rest of them. when he is good and drunk the bartender has to call a cab for him. He earns a good tip for this deed. The bar closes at 3 a.m. The stranger comes in to fulfill the numbers "8", "9", "3". (You see, in Japanese Yakuza terminology 893 stands for Yakuza.) "The misfits of society"

By The One Known Only as (Greyfox) on Monday, June 21, 2004 - 04:58 pm:

I have a REALLY short story:

George and Jon and Damien took Fred out for his Bachelor Party on Saturday. Everybody had a great time. Jon and George visited Captain Morgan while Fred & Damien played Ghost Recon to decide who would keep the kewl Strip Club Hat Damien had bought at the Grand View. Fred won the hat. Then everybody passed out at 6:30 am, except for Jon who took Jamie out for breakfast.

By Who is the (Knight_Hawk) on Friday, September 17, 2004 - 01:58 pm:

RESURECTION OF THE INJUSTICE

“Captain this just came in from the sensor section.” Lieutenant Jensen reported.
“Very good;” Captain Daniels said taking the report. He read it and turned to his first officer. “Well the sensors are telling us the same thing they did before, unknown.”
“Well sir much of this sector is unexplored due to the difficulty of getting out this far.” Commander Hennings replied. “It could be anything.”
“This is true but command wouldn’t have sent us out here if it were just another quasar or pulsar, that’s the science division’s job. Still… What’s our current Status?”
“The Engines are running at ninety percent and the crew is getting a little uneasy sir.” Hennings said
“Alright, take the engines to one hundred percent put us on yellow status and open a channel to Jupiter Station.” The bridge crew flew to act on the captains orders. Daniels looked out the front view port. “What are you?” he asked under his breath.
“Sir the channels open and Admiral Borova is waiting.” Hennings said.
“Very good, Admiral I hope I didn’t wake you but we are fifteen minutes from the anomaly and so far are not able to get any readings from long range scans.”
“That’s not to surprising to hear Captain, I do wish there was more we could tell you at this time but we just don’t have the data. Be advised however that we have lost two of our long range buoys to this thing. I want you to be careful we don’t want to lose you, your crew, or your ship.”
“Acknowledged Admiral I have full confidence in my crew and we will bring the Diligent back in one piece, Daniels out.”
“Sir, why do I get the feeling he wasn’t telling us everything?” Hennings asked.
“You got that too huh? Well he’s not required to inform us of everything but it would be nice to go in with more information. Prepare a drone and report when its findings come back. Helm slow to thirty percent when we are five thousand meters from the anomaly.”
“Aye sir.” Hennings saluted and strode away. It took eight minutes for the response to come back and it wasn’t encouraging. “Sir here’s the report from the drone.”
“Hmm, wait what am I looking at here? Are you telling me it just disappeared too?” Daniels said.
“Yes sir, it got within two hundred meters and just stopped transmitting.”
“And we got nothing from the drone before it we lost contact?”
“Nothing sir we were able to get telemetry and then it suddenly wasn’t getting anything. I t was almost as if the anomaly had put up a jamming field.” Hennings said. “What are you thinking sir?”
“Well it could be a jamming field or simply the magnetic field that is naturally produced but a pulsar or quasar. How much longer till we reach it?” The captain asked.
“About five minutes sir.” Ensign Kagari reported. “We should be able to see it soon depending on its size.”
“Did the drone get a visual on the anomaly before we lost it?” Captain Daniels asked.
“Yes sir, we’re waiting for the image to be cleaned up a bit.” Hennings replied.
“Cleaned up?”
“Yes sir, the image we received seemed to be of a ship but it appears to be a bit scrambled and out of proportion.” Hennings responded
“Out of proportion; what did you use for scale?” The captain asked.
“Pluto’s moon Charon sir, it’s not as big as the moon in any way but we estimate it to be between thirteen and eighteen hundred meters long.”
“WHAT?! That’s impossible, no ship we have is over one hundred.” Shock showed on the captain’s normally stoic face. “A ship that size would require thousands of people to crew.”
“Sir we are within five thousand meters and closing, your orders?”
“Sir I’m not getting any readings from the ship in any way.”
“Look at the size of that thing!”
“Why is it wedge shaped?”
“What do you think those spheres at the top are? They look ridiculous.”
“Captain three thousand and closing, your orders?”
“Everyone shut up!” Hennings barked. “Sir what are your orders?”
Captain Daniels got a hold of himself and turned to his crew. “Come to a stop at one thousand meters and bring us along side it. Tell the gun crews to be ready and have the squadron ready to scramble. Get me whatever readings you can from it, I want to know what it’s made of, how old it is, what’s onboard, and where it’s been.”
“Aye sir!” was the response.
“Sir I still can’t get a reading on the ship at all.”
“Sir we are at one thousand meters and parallel to the ship.”
“Gun crews report cannons loaded and ready.”
“Squadron leader reports ready to launch on your order.”
“Launch the squadron and have them get in as close as they can to that thing.” The captain waded through the crew and the voices with ease giving orders and checking statuses, he was in his element and the crew were behind him.
“Diligent this is Raptor one heading for the ship. Raptor four form up no I don’t want anyone lost.” Captain Daniels watched the fighters fly towards the large ship and seemingly disappear against it’s stark white hull.
The crew was snapped out of it’s awe as lances of green light shot out from the ship and small explosions marked where the fighters were hit.
“Report!” Captain Daniels barked.
“Sir the squadron is gone I get no response from any of them.” The sensor officer reported
“Raise magnetic shielding, fire all guns at that blasted thing.” Deep rumbles echoed through the ship as her large cannons began to lob their ordinance at the mysterious ship. The crew watched as every shell of depleted Uranium bounced off the hull and flew uselessly into open space.
“Sir I feel I should point out that I do not believe that our magnetic shielding will be effective against their weapons.” Hennings said. No response was ever uttered as the Diligent’s reactor exploded from the lance of energy that pierced it destroying the ship and everyone onboard.


A starship is a complex and complicated thing, and the Imperial Star Destroyer Injustice was no different. Her targeting computers reported no threat remained and shut themselves down. She was adrift and had been for a long time, the last of her crew having died centuries ago. She waited however; waited for the day when the Empire would come to reclaim her and she would once again help bring Order to the galaxy. Unfortunately that Empire had died out a long time ago in a galaxy far far away.


Authors note

Charon is 1160 km in diameter or 1,160,000 meters
An Imperial Star Destroyer is 1600 meters in length
The MSS Diligent is 100 meters in Length