Chris Cunliffe
Stories (15/0)
Vanguard
There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Not always, but clearly now. And not just a handful; an entire flight seemed to have settled, coming down from their usual lairs in the mountains to the north. Against all expectations, there they were – lying in the sun, though they would be quick to rouse if they were disturbed.
By Chris Cunliffe2 years ago in Fiction
Technicalities
Blaster fire was the first thing that Sheridan heard when she regained consciousness, and that was enough for her to come to full wakefulness very quickly. She sat up and winced as she banged her head on the too low ceiling. No – not a ceiling. She was in a medical pod and had hit the lid. Only now was it starting to slide open, and she got out gingerly, holding onto it as the floor beneath her shook. Where was she?
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
Champion
The sound of the crowd roared in Lenore’s head as she ran towards her opponent, moving swiftly and gracefully over the already blood-soaked ground. It had been a long day already, with many defeated enemies and what seemed like an ocean of blood, but she wasn’t tired. Her heart sang strongly at the thought of more battle. One more chance to live or die. One more chance to dance with the dragon.
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
Sand
Babatunde crossed the ridge, the sand firm under his feet, and planted his staff in the ground whilst he surveyed the image before him. Isixeko Seglasi filled that image – the City of Glass. Here, in the deepest part of the desert, stood the legendary city that Babatunde hadn’t been sure was real until he saw it. He had, of course, heard the legends. Everybody had heard the legends.
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
News Report
“OK – places everybody. One minute.” Sharon checked her appearance in a small mirror and straightened her hair. She gave Greg, the cameraman, a nod to show she was ready, trying not to shiver in the snow. Greg raised five fingers, then lowered them one-by-one. When there were two fingers left, Sharon looked into the camera, gave a smile, and raised her microphone to her mouth.
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
Press of a Button
It was a simple instruction. Wait for the red light, and then press the button. Not complicated. Not difficult – at least, not in principle. It was the rest of the orders that made it harder. Wait for the red light, and then press the button and under no circumstances go in after the team – Scott’s role was to be sure that there was somebody to press the button because, if he weren’t, the rest of the work done by the team might be for naught.
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
An Olympian in New York
“What are you doing, Dad?” Apollo walked into the living room to see his father, Zeus, looking at a mobile phone and he was surprised. His father had been reluctant to embrace any technology more modern than the trident ever since he had moved into the new place in New York. Not waiting for the answer, he moved through to the kitchen to make himself a coffee. The first smell of the beans brought moisture to his mouth – as much as he had always enjoyed ambrosia back in the old days, he had to give it to the mortals for inventing coffee.
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
First Date
I shook out my umbrella before heading into the restaurant and was very grateful when one of the staff offered to take it along with my coat. The rain had seemed to come from nowhere, but I always had my umbrella with me – best to be prepared. Under normal circumstances, my friends would have laughed at me, but this could be one of those times when I was proven right!
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
Last Night
Andrew looked at the clock as he woke up – just after eight. He slid out of bed so as not to disturb Amy and moved towards the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. After the night they’d had, he was certain that Gary, Toby and Rebecca were going to need it. He quickly registered an unexpected woman on the couch, seemingly still asleep, and a very plain brown-paper wrapped box on the counter that separated the kitchen from the lounge.
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
Piece of Cake
“You can bake, right?” Rick looked over the desk towards the Chief, who looked far more concerned than he normally did in briefings. Of course, briefings were normally talking about targets, and reasons that they needed to either be killed or stopped from being killed, rather than straying into topics like culinary efforts. Rick gave a smile, trying to be reassuring.
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
The Barn on the Edge
Barry pulled the car up to the old barn and stopped the engine, exchanging a look with his wife Cynthia. They thought they’d been lucky to find the listing; it was a valuable piece of land at an extremely low price, and they’d only happened across the obscure advert by chance in a local paper on holiday. As the estate agent had indicated on the phone, it was very run down. To be fair, it was a couple of hundred years old – and it looked like it hadn’t been maintained for a long time. Full of holes, but somehow still standing when the rest of the farm was long gone.
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Fiction
Republic
“Ship’s gaining on us, Captain,” said Joshua Biles, first mate of the Crosswind. He was climbing up to the quarter deck where the captain was currently at the wheel. His long coat flapped in the wind as he climbed the steps and, once he was stood next to the captain, he checked his pistol and stuffed it back into his belt.
By Chris Cunliffe3 years ago in Humans