A Cyrius Mess…

Cyrius day walked around the decompression chamber, the sound of his breathing heavy inside the exo-suit he wore to protect him from the coldness of space that now filled the room. He knelt down and poked at a red jellied mass that broke free and started to float across the chamber in the zero-g atmosphere. He watched as it drifted away from him, blending into the surroundings.

It’s been a long four years and I’ve seen a lot of things in that time. Some of those things have caused me to regain my faith in humanity, to believe that there is something worth saving after all. Something that somehow made the Marshal’s star that I wear mean something. Something that says that humanity has a chance.

And then… then there are days like today. Days where all the rest of that good stuff gets thrown out the nearest airlock. I’d say excuse the pun, but, it was kind of intended. See, that blob of jelly floating toward the bulkhead use to be inside of a man named Jason Fletcher. Engineer’s Mate 1st class, and from everything I can ascertain, he was the nicest guy you’d ever meet. Husband, father, Cadet program leader, coach for his son’s Zero-G Ball team.

Just an all around nice guy.

And someone decided to sabotage the decompression chamber he was in, sucking out all the atmosphere. Ten seconds in, he popped and created this Pollock masterpiece I am currently standing in the middle of. Gruesome, I know. But, as I said, earlier, it’s been a long four years.

“So, Marshal, what do you have?” said a gruff and serious looking man through the intercom system. His blue-grey uniform fit him tight, his hair was trimmed neat and just about as tight as his uniform, and his face showed his years in a most unpleasant way.

“Well, other than a really big mess…” Cyrius paused, noting that his response was going to do nothing more than irritate the situation with the Captain even more than it already was, and decided on a better tone. “That is, it appears the chamber was tampered with.” Standing and walking over to the chamber operational panel, Cyrius continued.  “The safety locks were compromised and as soon as the maintenance routine began the doors sealed, the atmosphere vented out and…” He blew his hands apart while making a popping noise.

“You do realize you are speaking about one of my crew members? A man whom I have served with for over three years? Who has a wife and child?” The Captain stood with his hands behind his back, a stern look on his face.

And there’s the tone I was trying so hard to avoid. Ok, maybe not all that hard.

“Sorry, sir.” Cyrius said, smirking to himself inside his helmet. “Truth of the matter is, I don’t know if this was a deliberate attack on Petty Officer Fletcher or if it was just his lucky day.” The captain raised an eyebrow toward him. Cyrius walked over to the monitor and pointed behind him at the mess. “Look, sir. I’m doing my best here to figure out what happened, and so far, other than being this huge enigmatic mess, that’s all I’ve been able to ascertain. And forgive me for being a touch flippant about the whole thing, but, it is just how I work, so I can stay objective about it all. Otherwise, I won’t be any use to this investigation.”

There, that will set things right.

Clearing his throat the Captain responded, “I’ve already lodged my complaint with your superior.”

PLOX!

The Captain continued, “Your replacement will be here in two days.” It was the Captain’s turn to smile.

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Trying something new with this character, or at least incorporating something that I have really wanted to do since the beginning with him. The internal monologue, a la Magnum P.I., curious what you, the reader, think.

TWW 440

c4d89-3wordwednesday

Downton Dependance…

The book flew across the room, pages flapping wildly, in what can only be described as an albatross in flight. Sadly, it landed in much the same way an albatross lands. With a *whump* followed by a *thump* as it hit the wall then the ground.

“Roger!” Her voice yelled out from behind the couch that she was currently using as cover.

“Miriam, I will not stand for this… this defiant behavior!” The sound of his foot stomping on the ground echoed in the study.

“Roger. My love.” She peeked out hesitantly from the cushioned concealment. “I was only saying that you might be. That is all.” The sequins on her headband reflected the flickering light from the candles in the room. Continue reading Downton Dependance…

Appearances…

As they walked the long line of grapes, his father told him he would one day run the whole business. Antonio smiled outwardly, but inwardly, he cried out. He didn’t want to be a business man. He wanted to use his camera and capture the world. But years ago, his father called his dreams “an aloof dream of a teenage boy”, and so, he hid his dreams. After all, he could be the dutiful son, keeping up appearances. Continue reading Appearances…

Anything…

SIlence, somber and sad, filled the air. The weight of it was palatable. Diane leaned against the bathroom door, allowing it to hold her up while she stared into the mirror. Her makeup was perfect. Her blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun with just a whisp let loose on purpose. The black dress she wore was just the right amount of elegant and casual. Her french manicure immaculate. Everything was in place, where it belonged and how it should be. And her face hurt from all the smiling.

Taking as deep a breath as she could manage, she held it in, closed her eyes and swallowed her tears. Slowly letting out her breath through pinched lips, she did everything she could to force this moment away. Continue reading Anything…

Morning Routines…

He stood in the faded green bathroom, a bar light with two of the four working lights flickered to life, wearing his dingy wife-beater and boxer shorts. He stared into the mirror, his old face staring him back, and ran his hand across the three days worth of stubble that now grew out white on his cheeks, making him feel older than he was. He smacked his lips as he took in his hair, a mangled mess of bed-head and unkemptness that added to his crazier-than-though look. With one hand he scratched what little chest hair he had while he yawned, which lead to a much deeper yawn, his mouth wide, eyes closed, and his arms subconsciously stretching long in either direction. He ran his hand over the stubble on his face and silently cursed whomever it was that thought a clean-shaven face was an appropriate look for a man. Continue reading Morning Routines…

Into the Vale…

She stared at the empty trees, and they stared back. Their haunting nature chilled her and the feeling of dread that spread from the branches toward her, rooted her in place. She wanted to run from that place as it closed in on her, abandoning everything that had gotten her here, but she took another step forward, through the gloom that threatened to steal her heart. The wind blew and sent the leaves rustling in a frantic dance, causing Continue reading Into the Vale…

A Golden Day…

20150126_070216A beautiful hush

Desperately crying out

On a golden day.

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I went to lunch with my daughter today. She stole borrowed my pen and started drawing on a napkin while I was looking at the words from the prompt. She is quite the little doodler, so, I just had to show off and stealing taking my pen back, I wrote this in a matter of seconds… the photo is one my wife takes on her morning walks.

TWW

A Sure Thing…

He tensed as she walked into the room, feeling his heartbeat quicken as the adrenaline coursed through him. She looked stunning, the red dress clinging to her curves like a grand prix racer in the final stretch. Her hair was pinned back on the right side, forcing the golden locks to cascade over her left shoulder, the curls lightly bouncing as she walked. He watched as she looked around the room and he knew everyone was staring at her, after all how couldn’t they? However, in spite of all of his anxiety, he bolstered his courage and approached her.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” His flimsy attempt at a pick up line was met with deep green eyes that pierced him to his core. He stammered as he looked down at his drink, attempting Continue reading A Sure Thing…

Early Morning…

It was chilly. A cold wind blew across the open plains, causing a small dusting of snow to swirl up. He stood with his left leg hitched up on the rail of the wooden fence as he looked out over his property. Pulling his jacket tighter around him, he turned as he heard her walking toward him, the crunching of the snow giving her approach away.

“Glorious day we are having here.” She said as she handed him a cup of coffee, Continue reading Early Morning…