Browncoatben's Stories

Real Emotion in a Plastic World

2008-07-12T04:20:16Z

“Quiet on the set!” came a loud voice from behind him.

Sam spun on his heel to first position, preparing himself for the shot.

It’s what I do, Sarah. It’s what people like me do. He rehearsed the line like he always has.

Courtney walked across the fake hardwood to the tape marking her first and looked over at him.

“Action!”’

Courtney became Sarah so effortlessly. Same features. Same hair. Same lips. Same eyes. Different woman altogether.

“Brice” she said perfectly. “You killed him. You didn’t have to kill him.”

Tears.

“It’s what I do, Sarah.” he responded. “It’s what people like me do.”

Sam threw a glance out of the corner of his eye at the director, huddled behind his monitors.

Courtney…Sarah…walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He felt her breasts squeeze against his chest. Her hair smelled of cucumbers.

That’s not in the script! he thought frantically.

Returning the embrace, he delivered his next line. “You let me worry about the killing, Sarah.”

Her grip slowly loosened.

.357 - Sweet Dreams

2008-07-12T03:22:09Z

“Mommy always shared her water with me, remember Daddy?”

Lexxie had ice cream all over her face. The spoon looked too big in her hand as she scooped another mound of vanilla into her mouth.

“OK, baby.” Cooper said, handing her the glass.

Coulda just pulled the trigger. he thought, remembering the gun he had held to his own head just minutes ago. She looks too much like her. Those blue eyes.

Lexxie’s mouth opend into a wide yawn. Sleep was taking her again.

“C’mon, Lex.” He said, standing from the table. “Back to bed.”

Moments later, Lexxie’s head was sticking out of the plush covers. The night light was glowing a soft blue over the pale walls. She kept yawning.

She looked up into her father’s tortured face. “Why did Mommy die?”

Oh God.

A tear fell from Cooper’s face before he knew he was crying. “It was an accident, baby.” He choked back his sorrow.

Will I ever be able to tell her? I’m a bastard.

“Go to sleep now, baby. Sweet dreams.”

“I miss Mommy.” she said, drifting off.

The Pillar - The Next Move

2008-07-09T21:52:15Z

“You did well today, Commander.” Captain Salis said, gingerly settling into his office chair.

Commander Stine was standing in front of the Captain’s desk. Not at attention, but not relaxed either. “Thank you, sir.”

Salis spun the cap off a bottle he’d pulled from his desk drawer. “Drink?”

“Please.” Stine said, relaxing a little. “What’s our next move, Captain?”

Salis looked up at his XO. Silently, he poured the whiskey into two glasses and slid one over to the other side of the desk.

Stine sat in the leather chair in front of him. Both men sipped their whiskey for a moment.

The Captain punched some buttons into his desk console and swiveled the display to face Stine.

“They can’t be serious!” Stine exclaimed after a few moments. “They still want to go with Prince Protocol? We’re missing crew! We’ve lost a whole ship! We’re way outclassed! ... Sir.”

Stine gulped his whiskey angrily and regained his composure.

“That’s the deal, Commander.”

“So, what’s our next move, Captain?” Stine repeated.

VHS - Wonderful World of Ficlets Challenge

2008-07-09T21:31:05Z

Somewhere in my imagination, there is this video tape. It’s a regular black VHS tape, with a label that reads quite simply: My Written Words.

[PLAY]

I’m 12 years old. i write a three line poem out of nowhere on a napkin entitled Vaguely

[FF]
[PLAY]

Sophomore year. I write a short tragedy about a space battle ending in sacrifice for class. I get an A.

[FF]
[PLAY]

I’m 17. Several girlfriends and three grueling years of highschool have passed. Over 1,000 poems in my binder.

[FF]
[PLAY]

Graduation. Vaguely wins a writing contest at school. I read it at graduation. I read another poem called In Him at my church in front of 3,000.

[FF]
[PLAY]

Air Force. Too busy chasing tail and fixing jets to write.

[FF]
[PLAY]

I meet Dori in Iceland. Several cutesy poems.

[FF]
[PLAY]

May 2008. Wil Wheaton writes An Unremarkable Factory and mentions it on his blog. I click.

[FF]
[PLAY]

I write my first Ficlet, Not Quite So Empty Space.

[FF]
[PLAY]

Today. Obsession has set in.

Static…

.375 - Breaking the Bad News

2008-07-09T16:50:04Z

Cooper’s cell rang just as he turned the ignition.

Emma.

“Alden.” he said into the mouthpiece, dropping the Crown Vic into gear.

“Hey. You on your way home?” Came Emma’s voice from the other side.

“Hey hon. I got something I gotta take care of first.” he replied. “Sorry. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

She sighed. “But.” pause, “OK. We’ll be waiting for you. Call me when you can. Love you.”

“You too.” he said, ending the call. He dialed another number.

“Hey Coop.” Kent answered. “Sup?”

Cooper heard the smacking of Kent’s mouth on the other end. Eating. “I need you to meet me at Albert and Market.” He heard Kent light a cigarette. “I’m on my way there.”

“The serial?”

“Dunno. Got a call from a kid.”

“20 minutes, Coop.” The line went dead.

Cooper was sitting at a stop light downtown. Across the intersection, he noticed a white Accord turning left. A lot like Emma’s.

It reminded him of the cold dinner and colder shoulder he’d be getting tonight.

The clock on his dash read 7:18.

.357 - Ice Cream

2008-07-09T00:37:58Z

He didn’t put the gun down right away. He didn’t move at all. What do you do when your little girl finds you with a revolver to your head?

“What are you doing, Daddy?” came that innocent voice again.

“Oh, sweetie.” he said, slowly lowering the gun. “Nothing.”

“Why are you sad?”

Cooper didn’t know how to respond. How do you explain a thing like that to a kid?

“It’s nothing, Lexxie.” he said, emptying the gun and setting it on the table. “You want some ice cream?”

Wiped a tear.

He turned just in time to see her eyes light up, the late night sleep erased by sudden excitement. “Really!?” she yelped.

Cooper smiled. Something he didn’t do often anymore. “Sure, Lexxie. Come on.”

He put the bullets back into the ammo box and holstered his empty pistol. Lexxie was waiting impatiently in front of him now, taking involuntary glances at the refrigerator.

Lexxie smiled broadly as she took her first bite.

Cooper smiled, glad his daughter could still smile. Glad she didn’t know what he had done.

League of Awesomeness 2075 or Beyond Challenge - Literature Class

2008-07-04T05:11:16Z

“Okay everybody, literature text.” the teacher commanded through the monitor. Tara punched up the text files and hit literature.

“Now, as you know, story-telling has evolved over the years. We’ve looked at the tragedies of the greeks, the epics of Shakespeare.” she continued.

Tara was already bored. Drawn out crap.

“Today, we’re going to look at one of the biggest influences on modern entertainment. Today’s holo-vision shows and books are heavily inspired by an oldnet page called Ficlets.”

Tara yawned and fidgeted with her hair.

“In fact, President Cristina was known to have been very active in the early part of the century as an author and an editor. She was one of the original members of the League of Awesomeness…and we all know what that means.

Tara perked up. She’d always wanted to be in the League.

“Ficlets’ greatest impact was its ability to say a lot with a little. It made its point and left you to think about it. It didn’t spell everything out for you.”

“And that made it awesome.”

Cheers to the Colonial Soldiers

2008-07-04T04:37:00Z

The sun was dipping low in the sky…Its light turning to amber. I took a beer from the refrigerator and walked to the sliding door in the back of the house.

I flicked off the lights and walked outside. Easing into the outdoor furniture I picked up last week, I popped open my beer and took that first, cold, wonderful sip.

The trees were swaying gently with the breeze. It was peaceful that night.

Suddenly, a loud boom thundered not far off. Then another. Then another. Cannonballs.

Then, the ghosts of men emerged from the trees…fighting. Ancient rifles. Bayonetes. Long coats…some red…others blue.

I watched quietly as they fought. As they died.

I raised my beer to eye level, obscuring my view of the beautiful horror.

“Cheers boys…thanks.”

It was this ground that they bled on. It was this ground that they died on. It was this ground they gave everything for.

“Why aren’t there more Americans like you today?”

The ghosts were gone. The trees swayed. The fireworks started in the sky.

.357 - The Beginning

2008-07-03T14:10:39Z

Sergeant Cooper Alden sat alone in the office. The sun was beaming evening light through the window from its low perch in the sky.

He was studying his computer screen intently. Three killings. All male. All brutal.

I hate serials. he thought.

His concentration was interrupted by the beep of the clock, built into his picture frame. He liked that beep…it gave him a reason to look at the picture without looking like a romantic fool.

7:00.

“Shit.” he murmered. He told Emma he’d be home by seven.

He locked the computer, punched off the monitor, and stood from his desk, slinging his jacket on.

Then the phone rang.

He answered out of reflex. “Homicide. Alden.”

There was a pause, then a kid’s voice from the other side. “Cooper Alden? I’m supposed to tell you something. You should go to the warehouse at Albert and Market. Something you should see.”

“What’s your name, son?”

Click. The line went dead.

Dammit. He checked his gun and walked out the door.

.357 - Remorse

2008-07-02T19:36:20Z

I’ve got regrets. Lots of ‘em. Should’ve been a lawyer. Or a salesman. Anything but a cop.

Cooper was sitting at his kitchen table, staring at the .357 on the table. Bullets were scattered around it haphazardly. Six chambers, but about twenty bullets.

He smirked.

Yeah, I’ve got regrets. But none like that night. What a thing that was.

Cooper watched the rain crashing on the grill out back. Should’ve covered it. he thought

He glared back down at the gun. It looked heavy, its dull finish a contrast to the pine wood it sat on.

“Dammit.” he cursed himself through restrained tears.

His right hand reached out and picked the gun up. He popped the cylinder out to the side and slowly dropped five bullets into the chambers, one at a time, leaving one chamber empty.

It seemed heavier tonight. Heavier than that night.

Cooper lifted the gun up to his temple, shifting the grip in his hand. Finally, a tear fell.

“Daddy?” came a small voice from behind him. “What’s wrong?”

Daddy's First Night (Escape Challenge)

2008-06-24T17:17:45Z

The lights were down low. Monitors glowed quietly in the corner, next to Dori’s bed, illuminating the room slightly.

She was out cold, snoring. She deserves it though. Hard work, that was. I stood from my chair and walked across the room to stand by the plexiglass crib.

He was laying on his back, arms stretched out above his head. Legs cocked at the knees. Feet touching.

So tiny.

I reached in and touched his hand. Fingers clasped around my finger, little muscles tightening. I smiled as his nose wrinkled a little.

He yawned.

So tiny.

I looked back at Dori. She was still sleeping. Peaceful and beautiful. A mommy. I think I’m going to miss her tummy.

Reaching into the crib, I put my left hand around Daniel’s head and my right under his body. I hoisted him up with no effort.

So tiny.

Holding him close to my chest, I returned to my chair. He never stirred. I stared at Daniel’s face, listened to the silence, and promised myself to always remember this moment.

Holy Mission

2008-06-23T20:49:17Z

Ahmed entered the room with a tense motion. “You asked for me, Iman?” he said humbly in Arabic.

A grey-bearded man sat behind an oak desk, studying paper in his hand. Cigarette smoke clouded the air between the two men.

“Come in, Ahmed.” The man said pleasantly. “God has work for you.”

“I’m honored to serve Allah.”

The old man ruffled through some papers on his desk and pulled out a small stack of pages stapled together.

Ahmed studied the papers. A hand-drawn floorplan. Office building. Schedules. A street photo.

“You’ll be wearing a vest under your jacket. Walk to the second floor…here…then trigger.”

Ahmed looked at the floorplan again.

“Yeah, fuck you.” he said, sliding the papers back across the paper.

The Iman coughed.

“If God’s calling is for me to walk into an office building full of people and die to kill them, then fuck you. And fuck God’s plan.“

Ahmed continued, “Why don’t you take your holy ass in there and do it yourself, you pathetic little bitch?”

Everybody's Envy (Unexpected Twist Challenge)

2008-06-21T05:17:25Z

The wind felt great rushing through my hair. My tie flickered wildly over my right shoulder as the wind whipped me. My suit jacket bellowed out behind me, damn close to flying off.

I saw my reflection in the windows. Moving fast. Everybody watching. Poor bastards, stuck inside on a beautiful day like this.

Almost there! I thought. Finally.

I took another glance back at the reflection and loosened my tie, letting the wind take it.

A smile spread across my face. A pure smile. Not forced. First one in years. I glanced back at my reflection and adjusted my sunglasses.

I heard my cell ringing over the roaring. I pulled it out of my pocket and sent it the way of my tie without even looking at who it was. Who gives a damn anyway?

Won’t be needing it anymore…

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the rush of the air on my skin. It massaged my face. Felt wonderful…all alone out here.

Everybody watched me me fly.

Free.

I hit the pavement hard. Dead. Sixty-three stories. Gotta go out big. From the roof, baby!

Tuesday

2008-06-21T04:40:53Z

It was just another day. A Tuesday. I plopped into my chair and wiggled the mouse sitting on my desk, bringing the computer to life.

With a bored sigh, I tapped in my password. The same password I’d used for six years…just with some numbers pinned to the end.

I punched the Outlook icon. 37 unread. Meeting at 9.

The red light on my phone was glowing. Voicemails.

“Shit.” I breathed quietly under the buzz of people jabbering away around me, every one of them sitting in identical cubicles doing the same damn thing.

Then she walked up the row.

No. She drifted. Slo-mo. She moved with such grace. Her slender form floated. Her dark eyes hypnotizing. Her hair bounced like in a commercial.

My God…she was incredible.

Shit! Staring! Panic set in.

She stopped at the empty desk to my right.

“Hello.” The word slid off her lips like dew off a rose. “I’m Valerie.”

She didn’t plop into the chair. But I wouldn’t call it sitting down either. She melted into it.

I choked. “Um. Hi.”

A Date to the Eagle Site

2008-06-19T03:58:27Z

Gerard hit the accelerator, launching off the top of the rise. It took a few seconds before the buggy thumped back to the ground.

A smile spread across his stubbled face.

Amy was squealing. “Too much, G! Slow down!”

Gerard eased off and looked to his left. “OK, we’re almost there anyway. Wimp.”

He weaved the buggy around boulders, scattered around a crater. Up ahead, they saw lights glowing at the Visitor’s Center.

“You know, I’ve never come out here.” Amy said reverently.

“That’s crazy. I come here all the time. I’ve been to all the sites.” Gerard replied.

Rounding the last boulder, Gerard eased to a stop. They both got out and walked up to the energy fence.

On the other side stood a relic. Maybe eight feet tall, stubby. Four padded spider legs rested in the dirt.

An old American flag…only fifty stars…stood motionless a few feet on the other side, surrounded by ancient footprints.

Gerard felt Amy’s hand holding his through the glove. “They called this one The Eagle.” He said.