Ash Gallop
Bio
Stories (7/0)
Poisoned World
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. However, when a face of absolute terror slams into the window of the Black Cloud, a massive command class battlecruiser, one does not need to hear the scream. The stiff cadaver bounces off the starship, remaining preserved in the stillness of space among the debris of the destroyed space station, along with the other lifeless bodies that drift afloat. As Commander Trenton remains unfazed and expressionless whilst standing at the front window of the bridge. A spotless command deck with a slick black interior, complemented by the illumination of red neon lights that line the corners of the ceiling. Whilst rows of scrawny robotic androids work tirelessly on their computers. Hunched over their control buttons and data screens, ensuring the functionality of the Black Cloud, and remaining obedient to their one true master; Commander Trenton. The purple light of his bionic eye reflects off the window as he stares at the earth, which slowly grows larger as they continue to approach. Loud footsteps on the steel floor interrupt the sounds of humming engines and beeping computers. Approaching from behind, not only does he know it’s his second in command; Raptor, from the reflection of the glass window, but also because of the cybernetic implant in his right temple. Allowing him to monitor the whereabouts of every CRI unit like an onboard radar.
By Ash Gallop2 years ago in Fiction
Torn
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. That sentence of hers replaying in my mind constantly as I hold the pistol to her head. Her sweet voice was so inquisitive as she said those words whilst looking out the ship’s window into the stars. Unlike now, as she sobs for mercy whilst the cold hard steel of the barrel presses against her forehead. She looks at me with eyes of question and betrayal, as tears roll down her cheeks that drip onto the hard command deck floor she kneels upon. Her messy curly brunette hair, that I’d love to fix and hold on to once again, drapes over her white jumpsuit. Gosh, I wish I could go back to that moment, where I had my arms around her as we looked out the window at the sea of galaxies. But that is now in the past, and this decision will determine everything. My concentration breaks from the deep buzz of the bulky security droid that stands at the doorway of the command deck, accompanied by several others, with their automatic rifles aimed at me.
By Ash Gallop2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Contract
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Nor were there trolls, beastmen, or deformed creatures. It used to be fields of green grass, soil rich in minerals, and rows upon rows of fruit and vegetation plants nurtured by a farming village that had sat tightly within the Valley. Now, it has turned into a land of wretched nightmares caused by a ritual gone wrong by the savage Lammenian tribes. A ritual in which they attempted to retrieve power from another dimension by deciphering an ancient scroll, stolen from the Kenshutsu Empire. They used a correct combination of low octave tuned banging war drums with mass chanting matching the unusual frequencies of the beat, as towering quartz crystals surrounded them and the altar, positioned around in a particular pattern using a form of sacred geometry. Causing atoms to clash and distort at a microscopic level, leading to a tear in reality and an opening of a gateway between dimensions.
By Ash Gallop2 years ago in Fiction
Mindtaker
THUMP. Thick rope ends slam onto the leaves and sticks of the jungle floor from the low flying military transport helicopter above. The wind from the rotary blades pressing down on the trees and flinging leaves into the air, disrupting the once peaceful Cambodian rainforest. A tropical jungle thriving in complete nature. Through the mist, three more rope ends fall from the helicopter. Following seven special forces soldiers, the elite alpha squadron. They slide down their ropes into the jungle with their guns at the ready and their mission in mind, to locate and rescue the American foreign aid worker held at ransom by a local militia. They instantly blend into the surroundings with their black and green camouflaged overalls and begin their advancement into the thick jungle, initiated by a hand order from their Sergeant, Hicks, as he looks back to see their only transport fly off into the afternoon sky. Their only way in and out, scheduled to extract them three days later, thirty miles north of their location.
By Ash Gallop2 years ago in Fiction
Blood of the bull
CRASH. Projectiles from the Roman catapult attack smash into the large walls of the mighty Sarmizegetusa Citadel of Dacia, a stronghold of concrete and brick with archers lined atop the walls, firing arrows into the sea of Roman soldiers. A siege on its third day, the Roman attackers frantically try to break and scale the castle walls as the Dacian army desperately fight to defend their city. A red sky caused by the afternoon sun contemplated with the glow of fires raging from inside the walled city, generates a hellish landscape. With vultures circling above, occasionally swooping down to feast on the decaying bodies.
By Ash Gallop3 years ago in Fiction
Spy vs Spy
The flames of candles that sit on the rows of dinner tables emit a warm glow, as jazz piano music set the level of elegant ambiance behind the sounds of clanking cutlery and sophisticated chatter in this French restaurant in the heart of London. At the rear bar of the restaurant, Lance awaits and observes the layout of the building, from the red carpet to the antique furniture as the waiters glide around the socially distant tables. He sips his straight whiskey whilst adjusting his earpiece. The light from the bar bouncing off his short jet black hair and shining onto his blue two piece Giorgio Armani suit.
By Ash Gallop3 years ago in Humans
Night Train
A light flickers as a cold breeze runs through the subway train tunnels, and brushes onto the deserted platform. Carried by the air vents that invite the chilling night winter air. Graffiti, trash, and the smell of urine occupy this run down train stop, whilst 18 year old Colt sits patiently on the cold hard steel seats. Waiting for his midnight train to take him on an hour journey home. Exhausted from working overtime at an iron foundry, he sighs as he rests the back of his head against the cold concrete wall. Steam from his breath emitting into the air whilst he runs his charcoaled stained hand through his short brown hair. The last words of his supervisor running through his head, denying a pay rise but demanding for more overtime whilst being paid below the minimum wage. A common narrative for the low social economic areas. He pulls out his smart phone, the screen illuminating his face from his wallpaper photo of him and his girlfriend, Nicole. Arms around each other with big smiles, with the afternoon sun glistening in the ocean water behind them. A photo of happier times before the brain cancer struck and placed Nicole into a coma. And to remind him why he must work hard, as the orphaned couple only have each other and a mountain of overdue medical bills. The time is 12:01am.
By Ash Gallop3 years ago in Horror