Short Story - VOTING THREAD WITH PRIZES FOR VOTING!!

[Bad City Blue]

Yep, all you have to do is cast your votes (after having read these uniformly entertaining tales) and one of you will win a 2000AD Graphic Novel, thanks to Rebellion!

Also, the winning story will get one as well, so get your heads out of your colons and take a gander. No theme for this one, anything goes as long as it has a 2000AD slant.

Vote for your too three, see you on the other side.

BCB

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EAMONN 1961

Future Shock

"OK, Citizen Deets. Tell me again why you need rehousing. What exactly is wrong with your apartment?"

"I keep telling you. It's haunted. Something terrible happened there."

"Well we had Chaos day and the loss of nearly 60% of usable housing stock. Something terrible happened all over. You and your family were allocated a very desirable 2 bed con-apt in Jim Moon block. You should be happy to be here."

"And I would be. I'd love to be happy here, but I get these haunting visions all the time. And it's not just me, my wife and son know there's something wrong as well. Jancis ain't sleeping and Todd's been having some behavioral issues. And it's all to do with what happened in that apartment. You've got to move us."

"These visions you've been getting. Talk me through them again."

"It's always the same. There's this guy, He's wearing one of those Mango computer store t-shirts and his badge says his name is Chip Mindy. He walks in through our front door. I can tell it's our apartment, but the furniture is different. He lived there, he had keys, and I can see pictures of him and his family on his fridge. He sits down at his table with his head in his hands. Then he's standing in the bedroom and there's two little girls asleep in bunk beds. He's got a bloody knife in his hand and there's blood all over that blue t-shirt. He steps over to the sleeping girls and he ... you know."

"He kills the two girls? Look Mr Deets. We've been through this already. We have complete records for this block and for your apartment in particular and there's no Chaos day gaps or anything. No family named Mindy has ever lived here, not anywhere in this block. And Justice department have no crime file answering that description. You're just having some very imaginative dreams."

"They're not dreams, I'm awake when I see him, they're ghosts or something. I'm telling you something horrible happened there and I won't have my family in that place for one more night."

"OK, Mr Deets. Let me chat with my supervisor. We'll see what we can do and I'll be right back."

He rose from his seat and walked down the corridor to the housing manager's office.

"Steven, how's it going with that Deets guy from 14b? Has he calmed down yet?"

"Afraid not, Boss. He's been in here every day for two weeks. We're going to have to move him."

"Yeah, I thought it might come to that. Well this is his lucky day. We've had a transfer request from a family in Jose Ortiz block. The husband wants to be nearer to work. Looks like a straight swap. You start the paperwork for Deets, ship them over to Ortiz and I'll speak to the guy there. Guess we've just made the Mindys' day."

"Wait. Mindy? The new family is called Mindy?"

"Yeah. Why, do you know them?"

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ZARJAZZER

Judge Dredd


"I am dee lawww!" shouted Judge Dredd. " Surrender your weapons!"

Juves Blanky and Spiv looked at each other. The Demohawks wore black with skull tattoos and had mightily quiffed hair.


"I don't recall Dreddy having a codpiece!" said  Blanky.

"Me neever" said Spiv.


"Screw you Judge! -or whatever you are!" With that they opened fire with their zip guns.

Judge Dredd rolled forward and -uh! His helmet came off. Spicv and Blnaky stopped firing and stood  aghast as they saw the face of law enforcement in Mega City One. A tanned older man with a decidedly Italian look about him stared back. He was aiming an unfamiliar gun at them both.

"Double whammy." he said.

"Drop your weapons!" came a new voice. Spiv, Blanky and Judge Dredd spun to see the source.


A Judge in recognisable armour was aiming an all too familiar looking lawgiver at them.

"Thank you Judge." said Judge Dredd. "I'm Judge Dredd, help me-"

"Stow it, Jimp".  Came the reply from the slowly approaching figure.

"I am Judge Dredd!" shouted the helmet less Judge.

"Read the badge, punk!"

Judge Dredd looked. The badge read...

"Dredd." he said.

"Eat it!" shouted Blanky and went for his zip gun.

"Stun." said the approaching Dredd and both Juves dropped like stones.

Judge Dredd regarded the helmetless man.

"I am Dredd! " roared the man. " I am dee law!"

"Losing your helmet automatic fail. Non standard weapon. Automatic fail. You're no Judge. And certainly not this Judge."

Judge Dredd raised his lawgiver. Judge Dredd struck him in the head with his.

The helmetless man tried to get up. Judge Dredd kicked  him back down.

"I am the law here, Jimp. Attempted juve assault ten years, judge impersonation seven years, Judge assault twenty years and six months!"

"Six months?" blubbed Judge Dredd.

"That's for the cod piece."

"H -wagon!"

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ALLIED 72

Out of Time

My first day.. I was scared I tell you. ISO cube, 10 years. My gut churned, it was hard to stop the trembling, the fear, the repressive isolation. The slot in the door flicked open and a pair of dead eyes checked me out.  "Quit the moaning creep, you've got time to do, get busy doing it". The slot flicked close, I don't know how long before it would open again, days, weeks. Time, what is it? In here it's just another piece of the unending background, the thing you have plenty of but no use for. Had to get busy, using my time, using my time....... I turned my gaze to the eye in the ceiling and it quietly whispered 'you didn't even know you were moaning, did you?"

Flick. Eyes. Flick.

Friend I write now to aid you in your attempt to follow me. They watch me but they are ignorant, days go by between their observations, they think we are all safely put away in these tin cans, but I am tunnelling out of here one electron at a time... quantum, now you see me now you don't. Listen, concentrate, feel it

Flick. Eyes. Flick.

Sit on the bed-bench, face the wall, turn your back on the waste chute. It mocks you, the chute, the wind calls to you through it on the odd day, it is the distraction, the only question in a book of answers, a closed loop system...concentrate. Count the atoms in your body.....time.....jump. How many times before I succeeded? Time is the background, the wall, I exist outside time now, free. Come, follow me friend....

Come, follow me friend....
Come, follow me friend....
Come, follow me friend....
Come, follow me friend....
Come, follow me friend....

Flick. Eyes....'Drokk.....

......we've got a babbler....drooling too. Ok, lets check your card kid.... 4 years, six months and 2 days. A new record."

CLicKKK - "ISO 2 here, give me Med 1 to ISO2 459B, mental escapee, avoiding time"

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SHAOLIN MONKEY

Through The Round Window

Brian Cant Block had been hit particularly hard by the Day of Chaos. It stood barely upright in the centre of a devastated part of the city, marked for body clearance, inspection and perhaps demolition. Scorches engraved the edges of the gaping hab windows, the shadow of a fire that had all but consumed the building, killing or driving off the virus-crazed inhabitants.

Derelict, but not quite empty. Most survivors had abandoned it for the newly secured safe zones, but a handful remained, a gang - brought together by the chaos, relying on each other; marauders and scavengers for sure, but a proud group - fiercely independent. The Humpty Clan had claimed the block as their own, and they were drokked if anyone was going to take it from them.

So when Floella Bugly spotted the two Judges on the empty Underzoom, she quietly called her scruffy, dirty, malnourished crew to her for a plan of action.

'Big Urs – I want you on the overpass, ready to push that electroglide offa the edge, put the stomms right up 'em. Imbiber, you still got them lumps 'o plasteen stacked atta surf platform?  Good – take Lil Urs, and get ready to rain lumps on them helmets!'

'But Boss, dey Judges – I seen two take out a whole tap gang when, before, you know...' Lil Urs tailed off, revisiting the trauma they had all endured.

'Grud ain't on their side now, you Humptys!' Floella quietly snarled. 'You all got yer places – git going. The ones that score a hit get extra rad-rat tonight!'   

The clan scattered, took their places above the Underzoom, and waited.

The moment arrived.

'NOW!!' screamed Floella, and the Humpty Clan rained half a ton of detritus down on the Judges from a variety of vantage points, nooks and crannies.  The Lawmasters ground to a sudden halt, Judges with raised hands to shield themselves, and protect their equipment.  One had her weapon in her hand in a flash.

'SCATTER!' barked Floella, and as quick as the attack started, it stopped, as each clan member darted back into cover, weaving through the twisty maze of wrecked building material back into the dim interior.  They laughed gleefully as they ran, whooping and hollering to each other, high on  getting away from Justice Department without a scratch.

'We showed them Judges who owns dis turf, right Boss?'

Floella laughed and tousled Lil Urs's hair, as she skipped past 'We sure did, an' I saw that plasteen bounce right offa that big Judge's helmet – you get good eatin' tonight!'



'HOLD YOUR FIRE!'

Judge Beeny lowered her Lawgiver, looking to Dredd for orders.  'Do we pursue them?'

'We've bigger fish to fry.' Dredd opened comms.  'Control - Tell social services we have another group of ferals, sighted at Brian Cant Block.'

'Roger, Judge Dredd.'

Then, glancing at Beeny before gunning his motor - 'Perhaps you should upgrade to bionics too. I didn't see a juve over eight amongst them.'

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WHITE FALCON

1

'He'll listen, definitely.'
.
'You doubt that. As will he.'
.
Anderson's gaze darts to Adam Uno. 'You can read his mind? How? Dredd's double-zero rated, even I can't...'
.
'His thoughts are his own. It's difficult to explain. Why not just look?'
.
She turns to a distant siren.
.
The siren crescendos then stops. A brief silence. A muffled crash then another, louder.
.
Uno chuckles. 'Your thoughts are yours, but your mind is my mind - in your mind, I'd be wishing  for another judge.'
.
'Sit still and let me do the talking.'
.
The door splinters. A Lawgiver with a legend on the end looms into the room. 'Freeze!'
.
Uno sits still, smiling.
.
Dredd snarls. 'You didn't check in. This creep got you in a mind-lock?'
.
Anderson folds her arms. 'No. I'm in control.'
.
'Then what's the problem?'
.
'Just... Listen.' She turns to Uno. 'What's the Chief Judge doing now?'
.
'Reading reports. Food shortages, western sectors. Bad, worse than last month.'
.
'Telepathy? Anderson, I know Psi Division goes nuts for these creeps but I ain't seein' your point.'
.
'I see your point, Judge - I see Anderson's point, the Chief Judge's point and this point.'  Uno touches his forehead. 'I see everyone's point, simultaneously.'
.
'He says there's only one human soul, split into billions of fragments, that we're all one.'
.
'All one under him?' Dredd jerks a thumb.
.
'No,' Anderson frowns. 'That one soul is as much you as me, or him. Your centre, the part called "I" - there's only one of those and we all share it.'
.
'Anderson - I'm on the verge of bookin' you both...'
.
'Joe... What if it's true? If the wars, the murders and the rapes happen because we, you... I am in pain from being in a billion insular splinters?'
.
'Uh-huh...'
.
'Three juves in Seb Coe Block are revenge Boinging¤ Weetabix Beckham,' says Uno. 'Josh Brewster is murdering his lover; Judge Gil Gilverey wants to desert; the Chief Judge of Megadishu is in talks with East Meg Three about limiting Mega City One.'
.
Dredd says nothing.
.
'You see? He's too tempting. If half of what he says is true I could get lost forever in there. If the other half's true I could transfer my psi-powers to everybody through him. If both halves are true every mind will unite as a single "I" experiencing life in harmony - universal peace, Joe, the ultimate order. I have to go in, before Psi Division goes blundering about, and I have to be sure he isn't influencing me.'
.
Dredd raises his Lawgiver and fires. Uno slumps back. 'Well, he ain't influencin' you now.'
.
'What the... Hell?'
.
'Clear and present psi-danger. Best nipped in the bud - trust me.'
.
'I guess. Pity, universal unity sounded cool. How can you know we're not all the same?'
.
'Rico.'

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BAD CITY BLUE


Good Morning, Britain

'Good Morning, and welcome to the Kyle Show.'

The words had been heard by most of the British population at one point or another, as slimy host Jeremy Kyle brought the dregs of society on to his show to bicker about each other and help him climb the ratings.

'Today I'd like to welcome a woman who is fed up to the back teeth with her husband. Apparently he refuses to lift a finger round the house and , get this, won't even perform his bedroom duties any more!' He leered at the audience in mock horror and they laughed on cue. 'Can't wait to meet this prince of a man, but first here's Trish!'

The audience clapped and cheered as a middle aged woman came on wearing leopard print leggings, too much make up and a tiara on her peroxide hair. She spoke in a coarse London accent as Jeremy guided her through the truths about her despicable husband, William. Every so often there would be a shot of him backstage, waiting to have his say, visibly pissed right off with what was being said.

Eventually, it as time to meet the man himself, and he hobbled on with the aid of a cane to boos from the grinning public. He eased himself into one of the chairs, and Jeremy unleashed his usual arsenal.

'Well, it's good to finally meet you, Don Juan,' he said smarmily. 'I can never understand how lazy bullies get a woman in the first place, let alone keep them. I hear you like to sit around on your backside and do nothing whilst I and all the other taxpayers here today pay for your beer and your weed?'

This elicited another round of boos, which Jeremy drank in heartily.

'So what have you got to say for yourself, Willaim? Eh?' he continued. 'Your all mouth when it comes to women like Trish, but you don't like giving out to men do you? Well I'm here to tell you that if you don't do something with your life you're going to lose this lovely lady, and if I'm honest I hope she gets as far away from you as humanely possible.'

The audience cheered like lunatics, and William finally spoke.

'I ain't lazy, Jeremy, far from it.' he said in a gruff voice.

'Oh!' squawked Jeremy in a falsetto. 'Pray tell what is it you actually do to justify your existence.'

'Vermin control,' said William simply, and pressed a hidden button on his cane, which no one had realized was much thicker than a normal one. Suddenly, he was holding a gun, which he pointed at Jeremy. For his part, Jeremy was rooted to the spot in fear.

'You're a Volgan collaborator mate, and for the record it's not William, it's Bill – Bill Savage.'

With that, Savage blew the smarmy presenter away, his brains splattering the front row, sending then into a frenzy – this really was the best show ever.

Keeping his gun trained on the security that were trying to surround him, Savage looked into the camera.

'By watching this trash, every single one of you is guilty of assisting the Volgan scum. Change your ways, or you'll be seeing me again, 'cos it's Bill Savage that really brings people together – the British people.'

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[Bad City Blue]

ECHIDNA

The Long Dead



Death, thought Fludd, was a lot like life - long, lonely, and tedious.

Unable to return to the human Land of the Dead, he whiled away the centuries welcoming the recently deceased of other worlds, as his mentor Root had greeted him when he died, and guiding them to the Light Sphere. Some of the more advanced spacefaring aliens brought him news of Earth, and he was able to piece together the history of his homeworld since his death. After rejecting immortality, mankind had returned to their decadent and violent ways: war, environmental destruction, numerous failed attempts at galactic conquest followed by a return to Earthbound isolation, more war, and finally self-annihilation.

He spent aeons traversing the Dead Spheres, searching for a race close enough to human for him to follow into the Light Sphere, since whatever deity controlled this cold, unfeeling universe had seen fit to bar Limbo Wraiths from their own respective Valhallas. A species of spindly, moth-like creatures with great gossamer wings and trifurcated beaks had told him of a race of ugly bipeds with their eyes in their heads and their skeletons on the inside which looked like just him, but by the time he'd found their Limbo World they were gone.

Indeed, people of any species were becoming rare, as the mortal sphere grew old, the wheeling of the galaxies slowed and the suns guttered and died. Eventually they stopped coming - stopped dying, stopped living, stopped being born - and he came to accept that he was not just the last of his kind, but the last of any kind.

Resigned to eternal solitude, he constructed a home from the stuff of his mind, as Armad the Outsider had shown him. He tried to recreate palaces, sculptures, the landscapes of Earth, but his memory of the mortal world had faded, and the shapes all came out wrong. He tore everything down and started over, but again his mental architecture began to contort and distend, and he realised that his creations were reflecting his own insanity, just as Armad had warned.

Armad and the other Wraiths were long gone. Most were devoured in the war against the demons, but a lucky few had managed to find a duplicate race and sneak into heaven while the cosmic overseer's back was turned. Where was the petty little bureaucrat, Fludd wondered, and spent the next million lifetimes scouring the Spheres again, hoping to find Him and ask Him why he alone was trapped here. He found no trace. Maybe He had left before Fludd died, if he had ever existed. Or had he met Him, unknowingly, on his travels? He could have been Root, for all Fludd knew. Or maybe He was Fludd. He might as well be; God, alone in His Heaven. He laughed at the idea, the first time he had laughed in a hundred billion centuries, and sat down upon His holy behind to wait for the end of time.

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ZIPPO CREED

The Seance

The parlour doors parted and the mystic quietly entered. Her appearance surprised Lord Vickory. Ridley had spoken of a medium with exceptional abilities, not a slip of a girl in a hand-me-down dress. Her age was of no consequence, however. Vickory was confident he would soon expose her as a charlatan, just as he had done with the others. It was his duty, as a loyal servant of Queen and country, to drag such criminals into the light of the public eye.

The girl sat down at the table and took his hand. The guests formed a circle. Cynics and believers and newspapermen sat side by side. The oil lamps were dimmed and the seance began. Thankfully, the customary nonsense of contacting a spirit guide was dispensed with. Her head bowed. The unruly hair became a veil over her face. Her grip on his hand increased a little. The voice that came from within the girl was not her own.

'Can you hear Them? Can you hear Them Gene-Dog?'

It was all gibberish of course. The lady across the mahogany table gasped but Vickory only rolled his eyes at such theatrics. He studied the room, seeking the apparatus that broadcast the ridiculous tone. Vickory shot Ridley a sour look.

'They seek to slaughter me.' The girl lifted her head and what appeared to be some kind of vapour curled from her nostrils. 'They fear the strange; crucify the alien.'

Outraged, Vickory attempted to rise from his seat. Never in his career had he encountered such blatant trickery. She hauled him back down with a strength and speed far greater than her slight frame suggested. Vickory surrendered, sure that at least two of his fingers were broken. The fair head bowed once more. Spittle dripped from her lips as she muttered about cities of metal and someone known as Red.

'I have never met anyone like Cassandra before.' Ridley' s pale features glowed with perspiration. 'Her abilities are unique. She does not channel the spirits of those who have passed over but of those not yet born.'

'Yes, I know you're bleeding Cardinal but these brogues were handmade in Milan.'

'That's impossible.' Vickory shook his head.

The girl inhaled deeply. The errant hair fell away from her face. A dagger of pain pierced his heart. It was as if a vice was squeezing the very life from it. He did not care for the way the darkness pooled around her eyes or how her lips peeled back to reveal discoloured and oversized teeth. Cassandra hissed.

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JACQUSIE


Laniidae's


A few sickly, green misshapen bubbles floated groggily from the Krool. It's limp body hung from one of Ararat's unforgiving Kapok tree's, ragged limbs pieced on the fierce barbs protruding from it's trunk.

A rancid stench hung in the air, rotting meat and rift-flies feeding. Soured water, stagnated from the alcohol that oozed from the planet's decaying pores, pooled around the chains which still held the Krools legs bound tight.

The silhouette of a stove pipe hat moved over the violet Ararat sunset, it's incumbent picking up the Krools right arm. It twitched but gave no fight as it was moved, wrist poised above an ugly, twisted spear the Kapok tree had it seemed, grown just for this moment.

The soldier licked his cracked lips, as he gazed at the the Krools shark-like teeth, razoring back and forth in time to alien, strangled cries as the bubbles popped around his bulging eyes. "You should have thought about that, when you planted those dwarf mines in the Vale you piece of filth. Took my transport out and nee..."

He never finished his sentence. From out of the Kapok tree grove, a Gobber ran towards him, almost in slow motion, his face contorted in horror as his lungs blew out from the exploding shell, while the torrent of Kapok rained down.

Spear upon spear of Kapok thudded into Ararat's poisoned earth, before the land silenced, a pregnant pause expecting a showing of appreciation. It got it in the form of a Krool Groundcraft, giving it's growling applause, as it churned its way towards the skewered Krool and it's captor.

The slug like tracks of the tank twisted round to a halt, crushing the blackened Kapok fall out into splinters, before it too fell silent. A rusted and beaten side panel creaked open, it's insignias inverted as three battered and worn veterans jumped down from the flanks of the craft.

"Cor blimey, look at this two an eight!" exclaimed a wild eyed recruit as he danced and hopped his way over the fallen trees, "Kano, cop a load of 'is boat race".

A mountain of a man, if that was indeed what he still was, kicked at the shattered Kapok remains, his giant scar-riddled shoulders holstering two enormous semi-automatics;  "Careful Tommy, there might be more Krool around" he ordered. "Thrax, go see what Tommy wants while I secure the area".

"Maybe Tommy should watch where he's driving" spat Thrax, a lank of hair cut across his wizened features which almost drooped above a long, candy striped tie as he craned over the carnage.

"Looks like he's been spiked Kano. Still, we can use him I reckun" he mused whilst pulling out several long spines from the unconscious casualty beneath him. He looked over at the bloodied Krool.

"Just like the Laniidae's do, you pair of butcher birds" he laughed, snapping off the last kapok spear from the man's hat. "Come on little Shrike, you're in Bad Company now"...
Report to moderator   Logged


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That's yer lot, droogies.

get voting and may Bog bless you all

BCB

[Eamonn Clarke]

Tough call this month. Good number of entries and all good stuff

1 BCB Good morning, Britain
2 White Falcon 1
3 Allied 72 Out of time

Hm to everyone who put pen to paper this time.

[Albion]

1. Bad City Blue
2. White Falcon
3. Shaolin Monkey

[The Legendary Shark]

1- EAMONN 1961, "Future Shock"
2 -ALLIED 72, "Out of Time"
3 -BAD CITY BLUE, "Good Morning, Britain"

[allied72]

1.  ECHIDNA   The Long Dead
2. SHAOLIN MONKEY   Through The Round Window
3. BAD CITY BLUE   Good Morning, Britain

[Zarjazzer]

1.White falcon 1
2.Jacquisie Laniidae's
3. Zippo Creed The Séance.

[Heath C Ackley]

1) Echidna
2) Eamonn 1961
3) White Falcon

[Bad City Blue]

1 - Echidna

2 - Zarjazzer

3 - Eamonn 1961

[Echidna]

Really tough to choose, but in the end the phrase "A Lawgiver with a legend on the end" swung it for me.

1st: White Falcon - "revenge Boinging Weetabix Beckham" ain't bad either.
2nd: ZippoCreed - The last line is a killer - leaving the reader to complete it is very effective (unfortunately it seems to have been cut off entirely above...)
3rd: eamonn1961 - A well-crafted stand-alone chiller.

Honourable mentions to everyone, including Sector Chief's out-of-competition entry.

[Andy Lambert]

1. Echidna: The Long Dead - Poignant and nicely written
2. White Falcon: 1 - Nice idea and nicely executed, if you'll pardon the pun.
3. Zarjazzer: Judge Dredd - A deliciously fun swipe at THAT movie...!

Well done to all the other contributors!

[Minkyboy]

1) Eamonn 1961 (Very well constructed and perfect within the Dreddverse context)

2) Echidna (Took me back, poignant)

3) Jacqusie (Graphic)

Thanks everyone, some excellent talent there. Interesting to see how a few themes came up more than once.

[Jacqusie]

Great stuff all, but here's my trio;

1) ZIPPO CREED - The Seance

2) ECHIDNA - The Long Dead

3) SHAOLIN MONKEY - Through The Round Window


The broad remit was good to really go for it this time, brilliant contributions everybod.

Cheers

Si

[Bad City Blue]

Last call for votes

[amines2058]

1. Eamonn 1961
2. Allied 72
3. Zarjazzer