New Job: A 100 Word Story

“I got a new job,” she announced.

She had gone for her first interview in two years and things seemed to have worked out in her favor.

“You know it was not easy. The interviewer was quite grim. But once he knew of my situation, he managed to be a little polite to me.”

She was beaming with happiness. “I want you today to share this happiness with me. I know you are here somewhere, looking at me with a tender smile on your lips. I wish I could hug you.” She cradled his photograph and gave it a kiss.


Squirrels: This Time It’s Personal (Part XVI)

It is my turn to write something for the CSB Chain Story. To be continued from Part XV by Rarasaur:

“Welcome, McAdams”

“Gosling… Is that you?” She was still dizzy by her ride on the werewolf, who was also responsible for her awakening.


She fainted, without saying anything else.

“Oh holy shit… Now that is not why we brought her back.” Gandalf turned around swaying his grey robes in the easterly wind, which had started to blow all of a sudden. The old wizard was too worried to feel the gaze of those blue notorious eyes. “You can go do your bloody grooming, Aragorn. I have no need of you till this lover detective wakes up and tells us the things, she had come to know.”

Days passed and the squirrels increased their tyranny. They swept clean acorns from hundreds of acres of oaks and there were rapid consumption of the yearly ration of the alcohol of the region. Newspapers, everyday featured some squirrel, dazed, or attacking some goblin or elf.

“Is she still asleep?” Aragorn asked. He visited everyday to stay by the wretched woman’s side, to the bewilderment of the impatient wizard.

“Go ahead and give her the kiss to raise her from the state of being half-dead. My elvish spells do not work on her,” Gandalf simply stated.

Aragorn walked silently towards the glass casket, within which rests Allie McAdams, who even in this state, looked tantalizing. He was about to open the locks which had kept her enclosed from any harm, when some one appeared behind him.

“My precious…” It was a snarl, which was more like a hiss. The next moment he knew he was head-locked by a bald grungy thing. “My precious… is mine…”

He fought, punched in the open air, tried to kick but to no avail. He was suffocating and his body was going limp. He struggled, trying to get rid of this strange creature. He thrashed around, swinging the creature, finally getting rid of him.

“My precious…,” he continued to blurt out sitting on the dusty carpet.

“Who are you?”

“Smeagol… I name Gollum… my precious…” His eyes bulged out as he replied. “I know… what you need to know. That lady came to me…” He snickered like a mad man.

Aragorn was puzzled. “Why did she come to you?”

“Know about squirrels… one ring of power… Sauron…” He gave a momentary pause and continued, “And Goddess” He shuddered even at the mention of the abominable being.

“Yes… tell me. Tell me about Goddess”

“She is an employee and nothing else… My precious is the master of all…” He showed his rotten teeth and his eyes gleamed with the light of lust.

“And what the heck is this precious of yours?”

“You know, you know it well, human.”

Aragorn was doubtful and asked him again, “What is this precious you talk about?”

“Ring of Sauron… you have a traitor, infatuated by my p..p..p..precio…” He gagged himself before he even could complete his word and fell down there and then. He was dead.

All what had happened in a matter of few minutes was quite disturbing. He had heard certain rumors about this creature, which was lying dead before him.

“Traitor… who could that be?” He thought to himself. “Gandalf is a wizard. Darlene is a victim.” He looked at McAdams uneasily. But he shook his head. “No! McAdams is a new character. She wouldn’t have anything to do with the ring.”

He finally recalled what he had come to do there. He opened up the locked casket and bowed, staring at the paleness of McAdams’ skin and her naturally pink lips. Closing his own eyes, he gave her a deep kiss. Slowly rising up, he wondered if it had worked.

It had. McAdams coughed and opened her eyes. They looked radiant and she smiled. She tried to get up but she was weak.

“Where… where is Gosling?” she questioned.

“Gosling is no more. You both had died but you were reawakened,” he replied sincerely.

“No, that can’t be possible. Gosling has my notebook; I do not know which one he was referring to because I have had dozens of them. He had promised that he would read its contents to me, once we get rid of these squirrels.”

“What does that have to do with Gosling’s death?”

“Ah… well nothing.” She looked at him; her eyes squinted in concentration. “I am woozy.”

“You must rest.” He smacked her on the forehead and closed her casket.

“She is such a mean girl; still thinking of that blonde Gosling. Well, we have no use of her anymore. Gollum has informed me everything necessary. Now, I must counsel with Gandalf and Sam.”

He left her banging on the glass, ignoring her muffled pleas of letting her out. He gently stroked his hair and went to look for the elderly wizard thinking, “What if I am the traitor, without me even knowing of it?”


Please do not throw those acorns at me. It is madness, I know. But that is all I could come up with in a short while. Well, I do not have any choice to make regarding the next contributor because only one of us is left before the story goes back into the hands of the editors of CSB. The story is going to be continued by Grampus.


“Where are we going today?” She cheerily asked, imagining a long walk at the beach or dancing at the night club.

“We… we are going to try out my latest invention.”

“Oh! Come on, Monty. You know your so-called inventions are always hazardous for some one or the other. Why do you keep on making up such silly stuff?”

“Silly…? Did you call my precious objects silly and What are you saying about the hazardous inventions? You are out of your mind. Nothing fatal has ever happened.”

“Believe me, all your creations are shit. Remember Eddy rode your, what did you call it, aerocyclar and ended up losing all his teeth. At least, he was not hurt badly. But that can not be said for Tina.” She glared at him.

“Tina… isn’t that Vanessa’s friend?” He naively asked.

She spat, “She was her friend.”

“Why? What happened?”

“F**k you, Monty. She died, because she used, what did you call it, your creamy delectable face mask. You had added lead particles in it which entered her blood stream, eventually claiming her life.”

“Bullshit. How can the lead in that cream enter the blood?”

“It was because you injected it into her blood. Yes, Mr. Monty, the great inventor, inserted face cream into a girl’s blood.”

“Oh! But… but… Such things happen. I thought it would work faster that way. Applying it as a face-mask would have taken a lot of time.”

Exasperated as she was, she kicked him in the crotch and left him licking the ground.


* Lead poisoning is reality. In severe cases, it can claim lives. Dear ladies, please be careful while buying cosmetic products, especially lipsticks.

** For Trifecta.

Leaving: A 100 Word Story

He was leaving. It was his last visit to this mansion, which held no meaning anymore. She was long gone but he still made a long journey to come here every summer. He knew it was no longer prudent to cling to it and its inanimate objects to recall the past.

He traversed from room to room, walked through every door to bid adieu to this place and its memories and a farewell to her as well.

As he took his final walk towards the exit, he thought he heard some one say from behind “Don’t go!”

He moved on.

Feast: A 100 Word Story

“Is this place haunted?” she asked shaking in the northeasterly freezing wind as much as in fear.

“I hope not.”

“Do we have to go inside?”

“I guess so. We have to finish our job.”

They had been asked to procure an ancient globe from the library of this monolith, by their professor.

“Ahem! Let’s go inside,” she moved ahead finding the massive door, which she pushed. It opened without any difficulty as if it had been in use forever. By the eerie look of that place, it was surprising.

“Welcome you two! The feast is ready,” a voice boomed.


* For Friday Fictioneers. Unfortunately, I missed last week’s prompt.

Branded: A Short Story

He saw the brand-mark just below her left breast as she tore open her shirt and he knew that he was to kill her before dawn.

“What are you looking at, sweets?”

“Ah! I am gazing at your perfect figure. You are beautiful,” he said sincerely. His eyes were still fixed on the hexagonal brand, which shone with multiple hues even in the almost dark room. The only light was that of the kerosene lamp on a nearby table.

“Then what are you doing there? Unzip your pants. I want you… oh baby! I have always wanted you,” she remarked seductively, touching herself.

He caressed his crotch and moved towards her. He reached for her and kissed her deeply, biting her lips. A drop of blood appeared which he licked. She moaned in response and got him out of his clothes.

“What would you want me… want me to do? I will do anything,” she was running her fingers through his dark brown hair as he explored her body through his tongue; his mind distracted in trying to find a way to end this demon. She was a childhood friend but now, she was branded. She was not herself anymore and the best he could do for her was to kill her.

He looked up to see her eyes glinting. They had gone violet. She had taken her cursed form.

“I… will… do… anything… for… you…,” her eyeballs were rolling out of control and she was trembling in his arms.

He shouted when she flayed her blistered tongue and abraded it across his lips through his nose to his forehead.

That was a very long night. There came no help in return of his shrieks; those who heard him envied him for his luck on finding a girl who could make him cry so lustily.


* For Trifecta.

Early Morning Meeting: A Creepy 100 Word Story

Copyright -Renee Heath

It was early morning and the usual crowd had not penetrated the streets. Only a few had made an appearance in the morning sunlight. The day was already so hot and humid.

A woman was prancing along the sidewalk when a man came along, “Good Morning darling!”

“Oh! Professor, you here… early… everything closed this area, open at night, all night. Come at 12; people wake up late…take time… and um… you come later,” the immigrant student replied, smiling.

“I had just come to meet you, sweetheart. I thought I must give you some extra lessons for your biology practical.”


*For Friday Fictioneers.