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Weekly Contest #356
Seven’s optic lenses blink back to life under the coppery sky of Xeon-13.He’s above ground. Where’s Thalia? [MPV: Playback footage] His storage core pulls a staticky playback feed and displays the hologram onto the sand. Thalia’s face materializes— covered in dirt and grime— close to Seven’s camera. The playback quality distorts her voice, but Seven can register his chief engineer’s last command:“Seal yourself in the airlock, you ruttin’ bucket of bolts. I’ll see you on the other side.”The file ends abruptly where it always did. The precise ...
Weekly Contest #355
There is a particular kind of country-house violence that can only be executed over a plate of perfectly roasted game.“It is simply a matter of basic competence, James,” Caroline Vance said, her voice ringing with more clarity than the fine crystal on the table. She sliced into her venison with the exact level of precise, cold violence she wished she could inflict on the man sitting to her left.To the untrained ear, Caroline was merely a conscientious chatelaine distressed by a spot of rising damp in her newly renovated west wing. A swath of...
Weekly Contest #354
“You know, I feel like we have this… incredible connection,” Gary says. He’s leaning across the table to reach for my hand. I settle for the tips of my fingers and feel the desperate, thrumming need in his veins. And then I wince. The C-word. The beginning of the end; another cycle doomed to repeat when the hunger that curls around my spine barks again. A bald spot at the top of Gary’s head reflects the dying sunlight. I try not to stare at it and continue pushing around the filet I’ve hacked to pieces. When I take him, I know what’ll happe...
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