Dani's Shorts 6: Dani J Caile's Universe, #8

By Dani J Caile

This is perhaps the last collection of Iron Writer Challenge Short Story Fiction I will publish. Due to life and other writing related issues, I wasn't able to write the challenges out every week, though to my credit, I never missed a Weekend Quickie – who would?
This collection includes all the Weekend Quickies and challenges I did write up, from Challenge 131/Weekend Quickie 139 onwards, all the way to the 2016 Annual Final (Challenge 179, October 2016). A list of elements for all challenges and WQs are listed at the end of this collection for those wishing to 'have a go'.
I hope you enjoy what you read – whether it's in this collection… or some other book…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dani J Caile
• Release date: May 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370921942

Dani J Caile

I've been writing for years, but now I've found my voice and style. I hope you like it as much as everyone else who has read it. :-)

Book preview

Preface / Acknowledgement

Challenge 137

Challenge 140

Challenge 141 - 2015 Winter Open Prelim

Challenge 142 – 2015 Winter Open Final

Challenge 145

Challenge 151– 2016 Winter Open Prelims

Challenge 152 – 2016 Winter Open Final

Challenge 160

Challenge 162 – Prelim Spring 2016

Challenge 170

Grudge Match 15

Challenge 177 - Summer/Autumn 2016 Prelim

Challenge 179 - 2016 Annual Final

Weekend Quickie 139

Weekend Quickie 140

Weekend Quickie 141

Weekend Quickie 142

Weekend Quickie 143

Weekend Quickie 144

Weekend Quickie 145

Weekend Quickie 146

Weekend Quickie 147 (Christmas Specials)

Weekend Quickie 148

Weekend Quickie 149

Weekend Quickie 150

Weekend Quickie 151

Weekend Quickie 152

Weekend Quickie 153

Weekend Quickie 154

Weekend Quickie 155

Weekend Quickie 156

Weekend Quickie 157

Weekend Quickie 158

Weekend Quickie 159

Weekend Quickie 160

Weekend Quickie 161

Weekend Quickie 162

Weekend Quickie 163

Weekend Quickie 164

Weekend Quickie 165

Weekend Quickie 166

Weekend Quickie 167

Weekend Quickie 168

Weekend Quickie 169

Weekend Quickie 170

Weekend Quickie 171

Weekend Quickie 172

Weekend Quickie 173

Weekend Quickie 174

Weekend Quickie 175

Weekend Quickie 176

Weekend Quickie 177

Weekend Quickie 178

Weekend Quickie 179

Weekend Quickie 180

Weekend Quickie 181

Weekend Quickie 182

Weekend Quickie 183

Weekend Quickie 184

Weekend Quickie 185

Weekend Quickie 186

Weekend Quickie 187

Weekend Quickie 188

Weekend Quickie 189

Weekend Quickie 190

Weekend Quickie 191

Weekend Quickie 192

Weekend Quickie 193

Weekend Quickie 194

Weekend Quickie 195

Weekend Quickie 196

Weekend Quickie 197

Weekend Quickie 198

Weekend Quickie 199

Weekend Quickie 200

Weekend Quickie 201

Weekend Quickie 202

Weekend Quickie 203

List of Elements Challenges 131-179 (Annual Final 2016), Weekend Quickies 139-203 (including 2015 Christmas Special (147-158))

Biography

Preface / Acknowledgement

This is perhaps the last collection of Iron Writer Challenge Short Story Fiction I will publish. Due to life and other writing related issues, I wasn’t able to write the challenges out every week, though to my credit, I never missed a Weekend Quickie – who would?

This collection includes all the Weekend Quickies and challenges I did write up, from Challenge 131/Weekend Quickie 139 onwards, all the way to the 2016 Annual Final (Challenge 179, October 2016). A list of elements for all challenges and WQs are listed at the end of this collection for those wishing to ‘have a go’.

I hope you enjoy what you read – whether it’s in this collection… or some other book…

back to ToC

Iron Writer Challenges

Challenge 137

Elements – Genre:Sci fi. An image of a angel-carrying-a-child statue, a bag full of owl feathers, a 2000 year old person and end with :When the Indians (American) captured prisoners, they always gave them to the women to kill.

An Eye for an Eye

Xantus wiped the green blood off his hands and spat at his defeated captive.

Not much of a fight, Swifty. Next time, suit up. If there is a next time. He'd done his duty, put two and two together to get an eight foot green Meethan from Zenith VI. The reply 'bag of owl feathers' may have fooled the uniforms doing spot checks but Xantus knew who had decimated the Southside's flock of Solaque whores, or 'angels of love' as locals called them. They were known halfway across the galaxy for their caring, sensitive and thoughtful side, and business was always good down at the den. But tonight, someone or something had murdered and mutilated a large number of them, escaping with their precious plumage. As Xantus tied up the infamous Meethan known to all as Swifty, he glanced over at the city park's angel-carrying-child statue and knew exactly what to do. The punishment would fit the crime.

And what? I'm your prisoner! Do your worst!

I will. Xantus grabbed the Meethan by the neck and pulled him along the street, listening to the degenerate growl and curse. You know, Swifty, I've been around. Two thousand years. I lost count at nineteen hundred, but I'm sure I'm not shy of two triple-o. Well, in all those years I've lived, on all the planets I've stalked, there was this race, this one race of men. Yes, Swifty, an ancient race of my own kind, a race called the Native American Indians of the Conquered States. They were a proud breed, a breed of warriors, dreamers, they loved their life, their home...

Who gives a shit about some dead humans! Shut your mouth and do what you have to do!

Oh no, you're not getting away with it that easily, Swifty. A quick headshot was the preferred punishment for this crime. Unfortunately, Meethans could fake death and nothing other than tearing them apart was fatal. Detective Inspector Xantus dragged the monster across the walkway, back into the Solaque whores' den, back where the deranged green cretin had perpetrated his crime. These 'angels of love' were not only known for their capacity to care.

What... what are you doing? Was Swifty cottoning on?

Well Swifty, with all their wisdom, with all their connection to nature and fellow creatures in life, there was one thing those Indians knew best, and that was how to make you hurt.

I can handle any pain you whip out, pig! Just get it over with! Xantus pulled the Meethan to the edge of the pleasure pit situated in the centre of the main floor, a pit filled with clipped Solaque whores, hungry for vengeance with claws extended, teeth at the ready. What? What are you doing? Shoot me!

He pushed the tied Meethan over the edge, watching the grisly carnage for a few moments before leaving. You could hear Swifty’s death screams for miles.

When the Indians captured prisoners, they always gave them to the women to kill.

back to ToC

Challenge 140

Elements – image of spaceship in the snow, crashed with Santa’s sleigh, how?, why? A Christmas present

A Bad Idea

Dave the computer tracked the little red dot on the display showing Earth. This is a bad idea, Grey.

What? You always say that. Next you’ll be telling me ’47 was a bad idea. Grey looked over at the main console. Twenty kilometres and closing.

No one in the faculty’s going to believe you did this, they’ll say you photoshopped it. And ’47 WAS a bad idea, said Dave, slowing the Light Drive as they closed in on their target.

What part was a bad idea? asked Grey, checking his iPhone. These devices are expensive but still the best in the galaxy.

We crashed, Grey, replied Dave.

And? We got away, didn’t we? Left them to make up some lame excuse. Worth the effort, if you ask me. See? He showed his iPhone to Dave’s console camera.

You got lucky.

Luck? Ten kilometres. Look, Dave, this is a chance of a lifetime, beamed Grey.

You said that when we crashed, muttered Dave.

Do you know how rare it is to catch this guy out and about? He only flies one night a year. And then you’ve gotta be in the right orbit at the right time, explained Grey. The red dot on the display was moving west. He got himself ready on the starboard side sofa.

It’s too risky, Grey, we could be seen, said Dave.

And what? Go on youtube, this ship’s everywhere! Grey tutted.

Don’t do it, Grey, warned Dave.

Five kilometres, getting close. Dave, this is my big chance. It’s my last tour in this sector, he whined.

I’m sorry to hear that. They were above the large landmass called the USA. The red dot was now a little red line moving across the display.

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