Category: One-Shots and One-Offs

Dare

Dare is a simple game where a person is tasked to do something or else they lose. That task can range from the most basic and simple actions, to complex and dangerous stunts.

Licking a packet of salt, chugging a drink, screaming in pubic, all of these are common, simple tasks that anybody can perform for a dare.

Destruction of property, self mutilation, robbery and battery: things that true daredevils endure.

However, there are some things that even the most insane would consider for a dare.

After all, it’s just a game, right?

Miss Vogue

I’ve always liked being the center of attention. Whenever I walk into a room, I like it when all eyes are on me. Whether it’s because I’m wearing an outstandingly beautiful cocktail dress, arrived with a celebrity, or made a dramatic entrance, having everybody staring brings me joy.

However, nothing is more powerful and grand to me than taking an entire dance floor all to myself.

There could be one hundred people all enjoying themselves, letting themselves get lost in the beat, and they’ll all make way for my own space.

And the brave and the bold would approach me, trying to court me to dance.

I have yet to find one worthy of my time.

Cowgirl

Suzanne traveled all day, gunning down bandits and armed robbers who were sent to come after her. One by one they all fell to her hand, none of them able to even realize that they had absolutely no chance going against her.

After a long day, and dozens of bullets fired, she needed some time off to just unwind and relax. And it has been a few days since she had a nice, cold beer to sip on.

Finding the local saloon in the town she’s laying low in for the time being, Suzanne decided to head on out to have a drink or two.

However, she should have known that bullets are always flying around no matter where she went.

“Christ, today’s a bad day to be all dressed up. I really need to change it up more often.”

The stomach rumbled with a loud belch following behind it, “Look here, ‘hun.’ You know why I’m here.”

He grunted before answering, “Shoot-out. Barely escaped with my life. I take it you know who I was up against?”

“Perhaps. Why does that matter?”

Valencia

There was a loud banging on the front door of the manor. Even though the manor was a rather large estate, one didn’t have to knock with excessive force in the middle of the night in order to be heard.

I wiped my hands on my apron as I trotted down the marble steps to the first floor, curious as to who’s bothering us during the late evening.

Two men in armor barged through at the slightest sign of the door opening. I recognized the color scheme and weaponry around their hips.

It was the King’s patrol.

She then folded her arms and glanced at me, giving a quick nod, “Go get the paper, Yuria. I want to read what’s on it.”

“As you wish,” I humbly replied.

“We don’t have all night,” the guard announced. He eagerly shook his fist that held the scroll and urged Madame Valencia to come down to collect the paper.

House Invasion

Butch kept his army knife tight in hand, holding it in a reverse grip with the blade facing out. His stance was low with his knees bent, slowly making his way across the second floor hallway. The length of the hallway was visible under the low light, all the doors on both sides within his line of sight.

“Amilia,” Butch cautiously called out, stopping his approach. He stood still, waiting to see if one of the doors would open. “Amilia, it’s me. It’s okay to come out.”

None of the doors opened, not even the shake of a door handle happened. Butch calmed his breathing, listening for any kind of movement. In the silence the raging winds from outside the house blew from underneath one of the doors, making a faint whistling sound.

Easing up just a bit, Butch stood straight up. He took a few more steps down the hall, opening doors just to make sure the house was clear. Behind the bathroom door was nothing but the usual appliances and fixtures, including the same freshly washed towels in the hamper on the floor. Opposite the bathroom was the master bedroom, the room him and Amilia shared. The room was still a mess from the struggle earlier in the day. The bedsheets were hanging off from one corner of the bed, partially damp from the pool of blood it rested in. The door to the walk-in closet was hanging from its top hinge, splintered and broken in the center. Various trinkets and items were thrown all over, the evidence of a wild brawl. Butch took a long look in the room, just to make sure nothing changed.

When he walked up to the next door, which was the guest bedroom, he knocked on the door and called out again, “Amilia, the house is clear. You can come out.”

Once again, no response. Butch reached for the doorknob and turned, but the knob wouldn’t budge, locked into place. Feeling the tension in his hand brought a small smile to his face—he saw the locked door as a good sign. Knocking on the door, Butch gave a small message as he focused on the door, “Mimi is my little bunny rabbit.”

Immediately after, he could hear footsteps shuffling across the carpeting in the room. Bolts and hinges began unlocking, the door slowly opening once the last bolt was undone. With her head popping out from the small opening, Butch saw the warm, brown eyes of his wife meet his.

Amilia’s voice was still trembling with fright as she spoke, “Is the house clear?”

Butch gave a firm nod, “All clear.”

Wasting no time, Amilia threw the door open all the way and ran straight into Butch’s chest, grabbing onto him with the tightest hug she’s ever given.


Copyright © 2019 by Luka Tatsujo

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Escape

The High Kind and the Empire knew that I managed to escape the hold, but they weren’t sure about just how far I away I was. I saw a large patrol unit converging on the main gates, all armed with swords and shields, ready to attack on a moments notice.

I wasn’t in the right state to fight, let alone fight an entire army. My main priority was finding a way to escape the city without drawing attention. And do that, I’d have to disguise myself among the general civilian public. 

Tossed on top of a small bench was a worn, hooded cloak. It wasn’t much, but it was able to cover everything from my head to my mid-section. If I could just make it to out of the city with this on, I’ll be okay.

There were a couple times where civilians spat out slurs of anger, but I happily ignored them.

“Arcimia. We know you’re hiding in the crowd; you haven’t escaped the Empire.”

I learned about just how far the High King would go just to protect himself. And now, I was his main priority.

Under the Bed

I didn’t hear him come in; he was completely silent. The only reason why I even noticed that somebody walked into the room was the creaking of the broken floorboards—he stepped right on the one floorboard that needed to be replaced. When I heard the loud squeaking sound, I rolled out of bed and went under it, squeezing myself in as far as I could.

“Where the hell did that little brat go?” he grumbled with anger. His heavy boots crashed into the squeaking boards with every step, obviously making himself present in the room.

He walked over to the bed and stopped. The front of his boots were covered in a red spatter, a faint smell of iron coming off of them. Fear overwhelmed me, my vision starting to get blurry and my heartbeat pounding in my ear drums. The urge to scream out for help again was strong, but I bit down on my mouth as a precaution in case I unknowingly did it. Please don’t let him look under the bed.

The boots stood there for a moment, just a few inches away from me. The man grunted and the boots turned around, walking to the other side of the room. My sight was cut off from the bed, but all I could see was up to his waist now. In one of his back pockets there was a small, clover-shaped charm hanging out.

He has my car keys! How am I suppose to get out of here now?

He started for the closet, his boots stopping right in front of the door. Just from hearing the loud snaps, I could tell that the door was suddenly yanked from its hinges and fell right to the ground. “Where are ya, girl? I’m getting real tired of looking. Come out now, and maybe I’ll go easy on ya.”


Copyright © 2019 by Luka Tatsujo

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Hoshige

Hoshige brought me out here to talk about something. I asked him what was the problem, but he just kept quiet, wanting to talk about it once we were isolated. He’s been acting strange the last few days.

I brought along a couple beers to help ease into discussion. Even though Hoshige and I go way back, he still has trouble opening up about certain things. When he told me that he wanted to speak in private, his face was rather tired and stressed out.

I hope his usual lifestyle didn’t finally catch up to him.

“Everything okay at home, Hoshige?”

“I wish everything was okay.”

Finally giving in, he sighed and shrugged, “Sorry. Thing have just been… strange lately.”

Alcoholic Elfling

There was only one thing left that needed to be done. The more I thought about it, about the pain and ache it would bring me afterwards, the more my heart would try and convince me that this was the wrong thing to do. I looked down at the half empty whiskey bottle, waiting for its mind-numbing effects to kick in. It’s been more than an hour since my last drink and still I remember everything clear as day.

As I leaned forward to pick up the bottle by its thin neck, I smacked away the flimsy, glass shot glasses I used to portion out my drinks, “You’re useless to me,” I said to nobody in particular.

I looked at the remaining half-bottle of whiskey, its powerful fumes reaching the sensitive walls of my nose; just from the smell alone I could feel the burning stream of dark alcohol traveling down my throat. I shuttered. After a deep breath to help relax, I took a swig straight from the bottle, going back for two more before my gag reflexes kicked in forcing me to put the bottle back down on the coffee table. A chain of coughs followed the hot, burning string of fresh whiskey traveling through my body.

Repulsed, I looked at what remained in the bottle: less than a quarter of it was left. It was surprising to me how big of swigs I took. I sat on the couch and let some time pass, allowing the affects of the alcohol to kick in. Minutes came and went, nearly thirty minutes went by, and still no effect on me. I could still remember the events of yesterday in clear detail, from the very first words that were exchanged, all the way down to who was the last person leaving the dump sight and what they were wearing. I was able to even recall how many crows I saw flying overhead as we put or plan into action.

Anger took over as I picked up the nearly-empty bottle of whiskey and threw it in a random direction. There was a crash sound of thick glass shattering, but it was rather far way. Regardless of where it landed I was angry that its effects were not happening to me.

“Why the hell do humans purposely poison their bodies with this garbage? It doesn’t even work as it should!” I reached for the laptop hidden under the couch cushion and promptly turned it on. Finally understanding the general basics of these newfound devices, I managed to navigate the internet and researched for various videos of humans embarrassing themselves from too much alcohol. They all end up stumbling around, tripping over their own feet and somehow ending up with the face inside a toilet hurling away their insides. In a handful of them the person took one fall and didn’t get back up, magically falling asleep right on the spot. And the very next day, they all awoke with no memory of the night before.

They all had no memory of the night before. And they surely managed to suppress any memories while they were drinking.

Then why the hell wasn’t it happening to me? I acquired much of the strongest alcoholic drinks available for human consumption, and yet I feel not a damn thing. Why?


Copyright © 2019 by Luka Tatsujo

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Wishing Well

Jamie dragged me all the way to this opening in the woods where a well was just randomly sitting there. The entire clearing was void of any trees for a couple yards, as if somebody wanted others to find this well.

Apparently, from what she told me, if somebody tossed something in the well of great value, they can make a wish and it will come true. Jamie talked about how her friend came here and was granted a wish.

But something about this well just didn’t feel right, something felt off. The fact that the well was just openly in a cleared section of forest was strange alone. Why was there even a well in the middle of the forest to begin with? There was no town or villages close enough to have use of it. Why was it here?

I quickly reached out and grabbed the bottom of her shirt, pulling her back down when I saw her feet rise off of the ground. “Careful. Lean in any more and you would have fell straight in.”

My gut started churning when I saw the distress in my little sister’s eyes. The usually light glimmer in her sky blue eyes were faded and dull.

“There’s somebody calling out to me! There’s somebody in the well!”

Wrong Spell

Wrong Spell

I know there’s a weird-ass anime screenshot posted on here, but hear me out for a second.

So last night I was relaxing at my usual go-to bar after leaving work, just to unwind and take a load off before going home for the night. I was writing something up on my phone when I got a sudden hit of Writer’s Block. What I then did was I went onto Twitter and asked for an opening liner to help get the thoughts going.

A friend of mine shared this screenshot, and I had absolutely no idea what anime it was from, so I just winged it and wrote this. I didn’t look up the source until AFTER I wrote it.

The anime is called Oretachi ni Tsubasa wa Nai-under the innocent sky (We Without Wings – Under the Innocent Sky.) I didn’t look too much into what the plot is about, but I did manage to find the scene where the screenshot came from. In case you want to watch it, here’s the link: Oretachi ni Tsubasa wa Nai

And, after looking at the video, I don’t think this story was tooooo far off…

Enjoy!

Hide in the Cafeteria

I was still trying to recover from the embarrassment that happened on Monday. I never heard a response from William, so I have a feeling he thinks I’m crazy or weird. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame him–I’m somebody beneath his sophisticated caliber.

And on top of that, I haven’t seen him all day, so he must be avoiding me. Then again, I’ve been trying to avoid him myself. Maybe I was doing a good job of staying out of line of sight. I hope it stays that way for another week or two.

I needed to find Julia to see if maybe she saw him anytime today. I hope lunch today will be loud and busy enough to be a distraction, just in case William happened to be there. 

I ignored her question, replying with one of my own, “Is he in here?”

“Who?”

“You’re really stuck on trying to avoid him as much as possible, huh?”

If she was in my position, Julia would want to do the same thing.