A short story fable by Charlie Novak for the I/O M/F/? Award ATTN: Mr. A. Watson DIVISION: Scripting and Story Concept RE: Sun, Moon, and Talia FROM: Leila Simmons — To Mr. A. Watson, You recently instructed my team and I to begin work on a script based on the Sun, Moon, and Talia story concept that you provided us with. It was explained to us that the driving force behind the decision to choose this particular fairy-tale, is your desire for us to produce a darker, grittier, and “more disturbing” story than what we usually use for our interactive storytelling. So far, Interactive Fairytales™ has by and large “played it straight” in regards to the tales we usually adapt. As I understand it, you have expressed an interest …
CharlieANovak
So we’re not to sure if this was an entry or a legitmate complaint. It’s not everyday we get a bit of hate mail, tongue in cheek or otherwise, but it would be a lie if we said we weren’t entertained. I think it’s safe to say that Mr Novak is his own worst critic. Story after the jump.
January 2020: Tomorrow’s Future Today by Francis Fukuyama [3,400 copies sold] Author of The End of History assures us that this time history really has ended as we enter an age of peace and prosperity. February Love and Lasers by David Horst [12,780] Horst’s debut science-fiction novel originally written as fanfiction of One Dark and Mysterious Night, which was originally fanfiction of 50 Shades of Grey, which was originally fanfiction of Twilight, delivers the best of all these novels with vampires, romance, mystery and lasers. March The Resurgence of IS: Where the West went South by Someone Someone [4,677] A testament to Western failure in the 2015-2017 Syria-Iraq War that provides a chilling account of recent IS expansion into North Africa and Southern Europe. April Asian Century Decade by Joseph …
The figures that prowled the swirling, golden mist were indistinct, yet terrifying. Their forms were hunched and misshapen, no two alike. Some red, some black, some scaled, others spiked or hairy. All were equally horrible. The way they moved was worst of all. They never stayed in one spot for more than an instant. They flickered in and out of visibility, appearing and disappearing at random. They were unpredictable, everywhere. Leo wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his head and hide, but he dared not look away from the monsters. If he did, they would kill him. A demonic face loomed in front of him. Its skin was red, intricately patterned with gold swirls. A cruel, thin-lipped mouth was stretched into a manic smile that revealed pointed …
Mr Davis hummed to himself as he trimmed the hedges. The lovely rose bushes that his neighbours grew along their white picket fence weren’t looking as well kept as usual. His neighbours must have agreed, because a few minutes later an elderly woman came outside armed with gardening gloves, pruning shears, and fertiliser. Mrs Williamson. That was her name. She and her husband had introduced themselves when he moved in. Must’ve been five years ago now. It was normally her husband who did the gardening. She reminded Mr Davis of his own mother, always pottering around in the garden. His mother had loved flowers. Mrs Williamson, however, didn’t have his mother’s knack. She clipped the rose canes in the wrong places and put too much fertiliser on some plants …
#1 The Palace Bar was meant to be a refuge for all the poofs, queers, and trannies chewed up and spat out by the virulent streets of the 1980s. Meant to be. Inside, Phil smashed a bottle over the countertop. “What did you do, you motherfucker?” A young man lay motionless on the floor, skin pale as snow. Mal stood over him, his face twisted in a malicious sneer. “The idiot little poofter has off’d himself.” Phil moved forward, enraged and swiping at Mal with the broken bottle, but two patrons held him back. “What the fuck have you done?” Mal let out a derisive laugh, “Didn’t need to do a fucking thing, your gutter-junkie of a whore did it all to himself. Not my fault he can’t hold …
Theo sat on the edge of the bed; shoulders slouched and head bowed. He rubbed tired eyes before replacing his glasses. His wife walked over and laid comforting fingers on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.” “I’m not ready for this.” She opened her mouth but at that moment Elsie ran into the room squealing “Daddy! Daddy!” He looked up, eyes pained. “What is it Elsie?” “Is it time to go yet?” Her face was covered with a huge grin and her eyes were alight as she bounced up and down with excitement. His mouth twitched into a smile. “I don’t know. Have you packed your bag?” “Yes.” “Did you remember your hat?” “Yes.” “Sunscreen?” “Yes.” “Lunchbox?” “Yes, yes, yes!” “I guess so then.” Theo looked to his wife. “Unless …
Azime grunted in pain. Getting stabbed hurt. A lot. The blade had been left behind, and its cold steel grated against her flesh. Warm blood trickled down her leg. “Bastard,” she muttered. She was wearing her favourite pants. Azime was Angry, but she didn’t use it. Anger could be… unpredictable. She rolled onto her back to get a better look at her attacker. The beefy man loomed over her, reaching forwards with monstrous hands. At least she’d disarmed him. Sort of. She drew her knee to her chest and kicked out hard with the leg that hadn’t been knifed. Her heavy boot connected to her pursuer’s face with a meaty crunch. She knew she wore those ugly things for a reason. He stumbled and slipped, roof tiles cracking under …