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[XW] The Stranger (348 words)
Prompt 30: Bread
There was a scar on the back of his shoulder that was shaped like a bread. In fact, it looked very much like a baguette. She knew, because she was staring lazily at him from her balcony, one storey above. Her hotel room was diagonally above his. It was the third day in a row she was seeing him out at his balcony in the morning. He smoked two cigarettes as he looked out into the sea, then he would go back into his room. It was the same each day.
He was very handsome. His olive skin yearned to glow in the morning sun. He had prominent facial features—straight and full brows, a hooked nose, Brad Pitt-esque lips. His curls were always thrown in the morning breeze, a tangled mess that he never bothered to sweep away. He leaned on the railing of the balcony and gazed upon the endless ocean. Wisps of smoke escaped his nostrils and lips. Every morning, he looked like he wanted to cry, but he couldn't.
On the fourth morning when she came out to her balcony for a hint of breaking daylight, he was not there. She spent the early hours of her day thinking about the sorrowful stranger.
She checked out of the hotel on the fifth day. At the reception, she overheard a whispered conversation between a hotel staff and a bellboy.
"Did you hear? It happened again." A girl in a headscarf was talking in a hushed tone.
"Yaaaa. It was him right?" The young bellboy was wearing a uniform that seemed one size too large for him.
"I think so. Aih, so kesian leh, I think he just wants someone to teman him." "Wah, you siao ah? You go and teman him la!"
"Choiiii. They say they found the woman dead in his room last night with a few packs of cigarettes and a full ashtray. The lady requested for a no-smoking room, you know?" The conversation continued in forced whispers.
Come to think of it, she never did see him anywhere else beyond her room.
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[XW] 06: The Hunt (422 words)
Prompt 28: Map
The house on Sapphire Moon B32 was already empty when Jurgen and Rook arrived. Eric had already abandoned his temporary base, knowing that they were going to catch on. He had left a trail of bread crumbs intentionally.
"There's no sign of anything. He's really playing us, isn't he?" Jurgen was examining every item in the skeletal house, intent on finding a piece of evidence or clue that would lead them to Eric.
"Do something useful, Jurgen. I have my eyes on this place." Rook hissed. Jurgen sighed and stopped looking. He clicked a button and started mapping for other signatures instead. Heat, sound, vibrations, traces of radioactivity—anything. Nothing. The detectives were growing impatient.
A click. A hiss. A screen came on. Jurgen and Rook wrenched at the source of the sound. There was a huge layer of light projected onto one of the empty walls. The video was static. A voice spoke.
"Hello, detectives."
"Oh, great. He was expecting us," Jurgen groaned.
"Yes, I was expecting you. Contrary to what you're thinking, this is not a recorded video. I'm streaming to you live from—well, somewhere—right now. Isn't that exciting?" There was a joy in Eric's voice.
"Son of a bitch. What a show-off," Rook hissed again. He desperately needed a peach cobbler—or six—to feed his fumes. Or just a clean shot to this psycho's vitals, really.
"You've got that right, Detective Rook. However, I do have a show planned, and I do intend to show myself to the universe very soon. The world is boring me to death, so I decided to show up with a little flair! Have you enjoyed the show so far, detectives?" One could almost imagine Eric twirling in the room, euphoric. Jurgen was running a track of the signal as he spoke, but nothing showed.
"Forget it, Detective Jurgen. You have a terrific body from the people of Alter, but I'm clearly not stupid enough to be using a signal that is traceable for your technologies. Anyhow, I simply wanted to extend the invitation to you. Let me tell you where I'll be next! Isn't that a terrific gift?"
The visuals whirred and switched to a sigil. Jurgen and Rook recognised it in an instant.
"I'll see you both in person very soon, detectives." Eric grinned from his end of the transmission. The light went off, sparks flew, and something small imploded. The transmission machine had destroyed itself. Jurgen and Rook exchanged looks.
"We need to go back to HQ. Now."
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[XW] night and day (492 words)
Prompt 26: Night
A baby born at night is said to be more courageous when they grow up. Because they embrace the dark as their normal, not knowing to fear the day when it comes, too.
Lia was not this baby. Although she was born at 3:00am in the morning, her parents would discover that she cried at almost anything that moved. Change was a difficult concept for Lia to grasp, so when situations changed quickly—if someone walked into a room without knocking or walking rather loudly, for example—her natural reaction was fear. As a child, she shielded her eyes so much that sometimes her parents wondered if she ever saw anything worthwhile that made her happy. It seemed like the world was a great big pit of fears for her.
At the age of twelve, she had collected a lengthy list of fears: from the usual spiders and heights to the bizarre: girls who flipped their hairs and men who smelled like bad cologne. Her fears began to transform into paranoia, and there was only a little space for her to find comfort and safety in.
Fortunately, she did find a space of safety for herself. In physical terms, it was mostly her own room, where it was filled with familiar objects—sights, sounds, and smells. And then there was also her family and... Neil.
Lia met Neil when they were six years old, but it wasn't until recently that Lia had truly befriended Neil. The boy had taken years to earn her trust. He offered her trail mix, asked if she would like to learn the piano, invited her to countless birthday parties—and she always declined. When they were seven, Neil tried to sit next to Lia in class—she always sat alone—and she moved away immediately. When they were nine, Neil asked if he could be partnered with Lia for lab experiments, but she also turned it down. She completed all of her lab projects on her own. Most recently, when they were eleven, Neil dropped a mixtape in Lia's mail box, but she threw it away even before she listened to it.
Yet, unlike the rest, he never gave up. Six years down the road, Lia had realised that this was possibly the first person outside of her family that she could truly trust. Neil had always been kind to her. He defended her whenever the other kids thought she was overthinking. He never stopped inviting her to his birthday parties. He never stopped offering his erasers to her in class. So one day, when he offered again, he was completely taken aback when she took the eraser from him.
A baby born in the day is said to be more cowardly and naive when they grow up. Because they know the light as their normal, fearing the unknown of the deep darkness when it comes.
Neil was also not this baby. He had adamantly befriended the baby who was born in the night.
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[XW] 05: Melee (330 words)
Prompt 24: Playground
Rook had a small stature. He was always hunched over, his attention focused on something. With all four of his eyes, he gazed at everything. His eyes allowed him to see in many types of visions—thermal, x-ray, night—but his favourite was to see things in Truth.
The Truth vision modification he had gotten at Alter years ago easily became his favourite, because it showed him the true nature of things, dead or alive.
At the moment, he was staring at an old playground. A couple of rubber seesaws. A bouncy slide. Fluffy monkey bars. Paper-thin plastic swing sets. All to ensure the most fun a child could have. This iconic playground was designed by a man who wanted to give the world to his children. Nobody ever knew his name, but everyone knew the story of the playground designer.
His Truth vision revealed a yearning. The old playground had long been abandoned by the neighbourhood kids, who were growing up to an age where playgrounds weren't the cool place to be at anymore. The pre-teens were frequenting cafes, diners, ice-cream bars. They were listening to lo-fi music all the time now. The playground was in its cycle of being forgotten. It was in between the pre-teens and the growing toddlers. But like any other toy, the playground was designed to yearn. To desire to be desired. Swing sets were meant to be flown. Seesaws made to bring a shriek of laughter. Slides to be yelled "Again! Again!" at. Monkey bars to be tangled and trapped within.
Rook walked towards the swing. He sat on it and began to lift himself off. He felt elated. He could see, in the second when he saw the ground instead of the sky, that the playground was happy too. He continued to swing until the sun was setting. As the night came, he stood, left the playground back to its loneliness, and thought about his daughter.
Melee would love this, he thought.
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[XW] 04: Nita (450 words)
Prompt 22: Tonic
They lived in a labyrinthine mansion, by a lake that was almost like a sea, on an idyllic planet named Xander. The planet belonged to his family. It was named after his great-great-great-grandfather. He had purchased it, after all. The planet was covered in forests, lakes, and rocky mountains, like the great ancient American National Parks. It was reminiscent of the old world.
Eric grew up here. There were the others too. Todd, Elaine, and Nita. It was an exceptionally idyllic childhood. Old classrooms were filled with chalk dust, people walked or drove or took the bus to school, arcades were frequented, steaming hot waffles with syrups were eaten, gin and tonics were drunk—there were hardly any modern tech in sight. It was a quiet town for some of the richest children in the world to grow up in.
Todd's father was a renowned bioengineer who never spoke much about his work. Elaine's mother was an exceptional innovator scientist at Alter. Nita's parents were both at the forefront of hyper-digital paintings. Eric's father was one of the leading entrepreneurs in the universe—after founding two hundred and forty-two companies, he went into seed funding to put his hands into, literally, a million more successful businesses. His mother was a Nobel laureate in literature.
He loved all of his friends dearly. They studied together, ate together, played together. Their parents never brought their work back with them, so these children could have the most genuine childhood one could imagine—one that has been lost for many, many ages. Nostalgia is for the remarkably rich.
Todd was the funny and athletic one. He was charismatic, personable, and well-liked at school. Everybody adored him. Elaine had an appetite for everything. She was curious about stars, seances, and steaks—she was always consuming something. Nita had the loveliest voice. A nightingale, she was. Everything about her had a melodic quality: the bounce of her curly hair, the constellation of her freckles, a burst of her giggle. Eric loved Nita differently. Eric loved her with every last might his soul could muster.
He would never forget his first trophy, after all.
There were never any signs. No animal abuse, no concussion, no traumatic experience, no estranged relationships. His desire for murder sprouted exactly the way creativity grew in a child. He was a sweet boy. Always has been. He went to school, hated his vegetables, answered questions in class, just like the rest of the children. Until Nita was found in the lake. Eric was holding her down—he made sure her face was in the water the whole time. It was autumn.
He was whistling, in perfect pitch, to Sweet Child O' Mine.
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[XW] Yong Han & Mun Ling (496 words)
Prompt 20: Letter
Dear Yong Han,
It's been a month since I last saw you at your house in Sea Park. How is everything in Alor Setar? Have you settled down comfortably? I miss you. I heard from my mother that the weather is quite magical up north—always sunny and full of bright, blue skies. You must be tanner by now.
Things are alright with me. As you know, I'm joining the national debate competition again this year. It'll be my third year in a row! I'm determined to bring home the trophy for our school. We formed a really strong team this year, too. We have all the seniors onboard and a rather promising Form 3 girl with us. Her name is Suzy, she's absolutely brilliant in quoting facts and her memory's top-notch. Interschool rounds are starting in a month's time, then we'll progress to district and state-level competitions as usual. I hope we can represent Malaysia one day, that would be so exciting.
I know it's only February, but everyone in class has been talking about college. Most of them are planning to enrol at Sunway for a year of foundation or A-Levels, some are looking into degree programmes where they can spend a year overseas. It feels a little ridiculous to hear them talk about it—I personally think they're more interested in staying together after high school than really considering their education and future. I wish I could do a gap year. Have you heard of those? My cousin from England told me that it's been becoming more popular amongst young people. Instead of entering tertiary education immediately, people choose to spend a year to find out more about themselves before making such an important decision in their lives. I mean, what do we know at Form Five anyways? The world is so big! I really hope to see it, hear it, taste it—experience it.
Oh, enough about me. I'll end my letter here. Hoping to hear from you soon, Yong Han. It feels different without you here. I hope Yong En is also settling down well. Send my regards to your parents, will you? I miss Aunty Margaret's Cai Po Nui already.
Yours truly, Mun Ling
P/S: I would love to visit England someday!
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Dear Yong Han,
It's been 3 months. Why haven't you written back to me? I'm worried. I thought you promised to send me your house phone number so we could keep in contact via phone? Please write back to me as soon as you can. I miss you so much.
Yours truly, Mun Ling
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Dear Yong Han,
Merry Christmas. I don't know why you’ve stopped talking to me, but please know that I still care about you deeply. I will always care about you. Write to me anytime you feel ready.
I miss your laugh. I miss holding your hand. I miss everything about you.
Hoping to hear from you.
Yours truly, Mun Ling
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[XW] Brothers (497 words)
Prompt 18: Volcano
The two boys shook their spray paints habitually, steadied the paper stencils on the wall, and sprayed in all the holes. They remove the stencils at the same time and looked at their works.
VOLCANO MASSAGE 015-8899665
"When are we ever going to be real graffiti artists, man?"
"Who knows. All I know is that we get paid shit doing this, and we should really look for new jobs soon.”
Mirza nodded in agreement. Loy had hired them off the streets to put up random signs—a rich array of Volcano Massages, Ah Long advertisements, and property sales—all over Kelana Jaya. And if Loy hadn't threatened them, they wouldn't have taken up the job.
Heng and Mirza have always been friends. They never knew their birth parents, nor did they go to school like the rest of the neighbourhood. They lived in one of the low-cost flats at the edge of Ara Damansara. Attai Komathy raised them as her own. But with 8 other children in her tiny flat and her regularly-unemployed husband to worry about, she hardly bothered with them anymore, especially now that they're teenagers.
Honestly, they never wanted to attend school. The idea of school baffled them: why would you follow a bunch of adults and abide by their rules in an enclosed space? It's literally the same as prison! You even have to wear these ugly-ass uniforms. They would spy on the SMK Kelana Jaya students sometimes and laugh at them while chomping on keropok lekor. It wasn't one of their best pastimes, but it was entertaining nonetheless.
Their best pastime happened only once a week. The rarity of it was also presumably why it was the best.
Every Sunday, they snuck into one of the many mass services at the St. Ignatius Catholic Church. They would sit in the second or third-last pew. At the end of mass, the church had Holy Communion. The boys were the most excited for this event because wine was served as part of the procession. It was the only chance they had access to free alcohol. Though they were sure that the priests had already recognised them long ago, they continued to go back, week after week, for a tiny drink of heaven.
"Mirza, have you ever thought of leaving Kelana Jaya?"
"What, to KL? I hate it there. It's so much worse than here and everyone always has something weird up their sleeves to offer you."
"No, I mean... Have you ever thought of leaving?"
Mirza didn't understand completely, but he knew what Heng was trying to say. Seventeen years old and they already felt trapped. The future was a bright beacon of hope for their peers, but not them. It always seemed like a path that got narrower and narrower.
Heng shook his head. "Never mind. Let's finish it up before Loy finds out we're slacking again."
An empty TNB box posed as their next target.
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[XW] Annie (493 words)
Prompt 16: Confetti
"Happy birthday!"
Party poppers exploded from all directions. Multi-coloured confetti littered the porch and covered most of Han Kang. The apartment was empty.
Han Kang had a messenger bag over his shoulder. He was also carrying a reusable nylon bag containing a large box. He closed the door behind him, swept off some of the colourful paper bits from his shoulders, and removed his leather oxfords.
The lights came on as he walked through the corridor leading to the main area. Excessive rays from the piercing neon signs outside his window spilt in, colliding with the soft and warm lighting. Right before Han Kang could even notice this, the windows frosted over and displayed a serene view of the night over rolling hills. It was one of his favourite videographs, a fictional setting based on Norway and New Zealand. A calm lake stretched out into eternity.
He set down the reusable bag on his six-seater dining table and his messenger bag on one of the straight-backed chairs. He stretched and let out a quiet yawn.
"Annie."
A screen projected onto the large wall across his windows. It showed the time and date, Han Kang's personal to-do list, and some news articles.
"Thank you for the surprise, Annie. You remembered."
A gentle whisper replied directly into his ears.
"You're welcome, Han. And of course I did, silly."
"It's been a long day. I'm going to take a shower. Could you clean up the porch and get my dinner ready, please?"
"Sure thing."
The screen on the wall vanished. Han Kang peeled his suit off wearily as he entered the bathroom. He set his glasses at the basin.
"Usual settings, Han?" The gentle voice echoed.
"Yeah. ...Wait, you know what? Make it a little stronger, will you?"
"Sure."
Jets of warm water shot out from the ceiling. Han Yang bent over, made sure his shoulders and back took the most pressure. Steam filled the bathroom.
Out in the rest of his apartment, things were summoned upon for their duties. A small cleaner robot was vacuuming the entrance. A chef automaton was making a complete meal from scratch. For the appetiser—pomegranate seeds, chickpeas, and spinach, tossed with a sprinkle of lemon and lime. For the main—roasted salmon with fennel, citrus, and chiles. Served with a glass of white wine.
The box in the nylon bag is lifted out gracefully by the chef with its silicone arms. It was a cake that Annie had ordered. For dessert—Matcha Lychee Chiffon Cake from Guillermo Patisserie. Han's favourite.
The sound of water streams gradually stopped. Han Kang toweled himself off and changed into a forest green tee and dark pants. He threw on a beige cable-knitted cardigan after. A pair of extremely worn slippers covered his feet.
Setting himself down at the dining table before the completed meal, he took a deep breath. He smiled.
"Thank you, Annie."
"You're welcome, Han. Happy birthday. I love you."
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[XW] Kelly (494 words)
Prompt 14: Groceries "Kelly and Kin Fai, sitting on a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
It was just this morning since she passed the note to Kin Fai in front all of 2 Mawar. Looking back now, she wasn't sure where she gathered the courage to do such a thing.
"So, do you really like him?" Jing Xiu asked curiously. School had just ended, and they were waiting for their parents to pick them up.
"No, not in that way."
"Then why did you do that just now, inviting him to your birthday party and all?" "Well... because he's a nice boy."
"Whaaaat. But he's such a cinapek! He's from a gansgster class!"
"Jing Xiu, it's not nice to judge people, especially not by their appearances. You don't like it when people call you a banana too, right?"
"Well..." Jing Xiu looked away in remorse.
Kelly has never held back in telling the truth to the people around her, even if it was potentially hurtful. She believed that truth triumphed all things. It was something she had learned from her mother.
A car pulled over further in front from where they were waiting. Kelly recognised her mother's black Camry. She got up immediately. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jing Xiu. My mom's here." She waved Jing Xiu goodbye and walked towards the car, opening the door and closing it behind her as she entered.
"Hi mom." Kelly set down her backpack at her feet.
"Hi dear. How was school today?" Her mother signalled right as she edged out of the school traffic.
"It was okay."
"Did you do what I asked you to do?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Also, help me confirm with the rest of your friends soon too, okay? I need to go get groceries for the party in the next few days. Ah, I need to check if we have enough paper cups and plates too..." She started mumbling and making a mental list.
"Yup, I know, mom."
They were in the living room last Sunday when her mother asked her to invite Kin Fai to her birthday party. She was a little apprehensive about it. Although she's seen the boy in school before, they never talked. It was weirder still because this was the first time her mother had asked her to invite someone so specifically. She didn't dislike him, but he was a complete stranger—so of course she asked her mother why.
A hint of sadness found its way to her mother's face. She lowered the volume on the television set and turned around to look at Kelly.
"Well, his father is an old friend of mine, you see."
There was a long silence.
"We were schoolmates, but he moved to Kedah with his family when we were both seventeen, and I never saw him again. But I recently bumped into him at the wet market, and he introduced me to his son."
"Oh." Kelly had never heard of this story before.
"I thought it would be nice for us to be family friends." Her mother fixed her eyes back on the television.
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[XW] Impermanence (493 words)
Prompt 12: Flag
The gargantuan creature in the clouds was transforming. Ground humans have been overloading the skies with toxic gases and particles. Even as a god, Dirga was growing weak, his divinity slipping away.
He was a gentle creature with gaseous limbs stretched across the skies, regulating seasons and temperatures. He gave ground humans showers, snowstorms, misty peaks, and blinding azure skies.
For centuries now, he has been governing the skies with Surya. She was the source of all energy, providing nurture and growth to all living beings on the ground. Plants thrived, animals hunted, and people built colonies because she enabled their fertility.
The two of them had been happy. Sure, the ground occasionally spurted lava, shot mountainous waves, or drove muscular gales that destroyed the ground beings. But it would begin again. On some days, Dirga even looked forward to these imminent destructions. There were clearly other gods at work in restarting the earth cyclically, but he never crossed paths with them. Only Surya. It has always been Surya.
She always had great news to share. The sunflower fields in Chiang Mai were blooming! The Siberian tigers gave birth to a litter of beautiful cubs! A Chinese man invented paper! A young tree finally achieved its adult height! A vulture found its way home! The ground humans planted a flag on the peak of Mount Everest for the first time! Surya was always smiling.
He remembered Tukang's prophecy.
In times of extreme danger, the ground had the ability to destroy and resuscitate itself. But every time it did so, a little bit of the ground's life was taken away, permanently. Life was given, so it shall be taken as well. One day, the gods will be called to take back all life.
Dirga did not create the smog. His abilities grew weak with every downpour he granted the ground creatures. He thought of Surya, full of energy, always bouncing in joy, and tried again. A grain-sized rain cloud formed and widened. It grew and grew until it was the size of a basketball. Dirga stopped.
Maybe not today.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted Surya, taking a nap. He smiled a little. From the corner of his eye, he saw something else. A grubby little creature was at her feet, nibbling her toes, consuming her aura.
Dark life had burst forth from the haze. He generated a limb from the fluffy clouds and picked the creature off her. He missed. He tried again. He missed again. He could not touch the creature. He moved his face closer to Surya and realised that the thing had teeth. He started to call her name.
"Surya, Surya. Wake up, you need to get this thing off you. It's feeding on you."
Surya slept. The creature fed. The haze was rising above Dirga's spectral body. It was consuming him as well.
"Surya, Surya!"
The familiar voice finally woke Surya. But the transformation was already complete.
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[XW] Kin Fai (497 words)
Prompt 10: Statue Kin Fai stood still in front of the house phone. It's been three days. The note stared at him. This is a joke, right?
Kelly was the prettiest girl in school. She always tied her hair back in a ponytail, dotted with pastel-coloured bows and ribbons. She wore her pinafore elegantly. She spoke eloquently, so of course she was on the school's debate team as well as the drama club. She was great in sports too—nobody could beat her in netball. She was everybody's dream girl.
In terms of social class, he was on the far opposite end from her. Kin Fai was the firstborn child of his family. His parents sold chicken rice at Wai Sek Kai in SS2. He wished they didn't, because many of his friends' parents would often recognise him at the stall, and then at school. He was raised in a Mandarin and Hokkien-speaking household. The regular volume of communications at home was to yell at each other, in spite of the occasion. He went to school in his beat-up uniform that always had holes in them. The whole school knew Kin Fai was a cinapek.
Three days ago, Kelly appeared at Kin Fai's classroom. She was from 2 Angsana, and Kin Fai was in 2 Mawar. Kin Fai's class was such a notoriously gangster-filled class that it was in a completely separate block from the rest of the Form 2 classes. She had walked all the way from Block A to Block B, just to give him the note. In person.
Kin Fai froze when she set down the paper gently on his graffiti-filled plastic desk. It was clearly torn from an exercise book, but not from the kind that the school co-op sold—more like the kind that you could only find at Popular. It had little cartoon characters at the edge.
"Hi Kin Fai. I'm having a birthday party this weekend. Could you let me know if you'll be coming? Let me know by Thursday so my mom can prepare enough food for everyone."
"Oh. OK.”
She left. All the boys in 2 Mawar immediately crowded around Kin Fai after he swiped the note off the table before it was taken by someone else. Nobody believed what they had just saw. Kelly Fong Jia Mun, a girl that even their seniors chased after, gave Lee Kin Fai, the snottiest wimp in school, her phone number! There was chaos and ruckus everywhere. Boys cheered. Girls gossiped. Prefects roared for the classroom to keep quiet.
It’s been three days since.
Kin Fai walked away from the phone. He went to the Kuan Yin altar in the living room, and stared at the statue. He closed his eyes and pray.
Kuan Yin Pu Sha, please bless me, please protect me.
He marched back to the phone, picked up the receiver, and dialled the number quickly. He held his breath as the dial tone rang in his ear.
"Halo? Kelly?"
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[XW] Cerita (452 words)
Prompt 8: Music
Khadijah reached KLCC at 8.30am. She was about to work a 13-hour shift at the Malaysian souvenir stall. She has been working here for 5 years now.
She was 23 when she left Jakarta to seek new opportunities in the neighbouring country. Her home city was never short of poverty. She decided to set sail for Malaysia in hopes of better days. She arrived in Malaysia with a curious spirit, only to find out that immigrants, wherever you go, will always be treated as foreigners. Some locals were more hostile than the rest, and almost none were ever very kind to her. She switched jobs almost on a weekly basis at first because nobody hired her for the long term. No one took the time to take a second look at her.
When Encik Zamir hired her, she had already made up her mind to return to Jakarta right after she completed her final job at the Twin Towers. But Encik Zamir convinced her to stay—reassured her that she'll have a brighter future in this city than her own. So she stayed.
KLCC was a big mall in the heart of Kuala Lumpur, the capital of Malaysia. At 9.00am sharp every day, upbeat pop music fills the mall as a mix of exhausted office workers and optimistic tourists emerge from the LRT station. Khadijah would be ready at her stall, waiting for potential customers. It was more fulfilling than anything she had ever done before. Not only could she practice speaking English, but she also had the most fun hearing stories from her customers who came from all around the world.
So many different worlds existed out there. She learned about Tokyo, where it could be both sunny and cold in winter. A man from America told her he was going to Indonesia for a silent retreat. A couple from China told her with their broken English that they were from Beijing, where smog always filled the air. She pictured herself going to these faraway lands. Their stories gave her something to look forward to: what new lands was she going to hear about today? The 13-hour shifts were bearable because of these stories. Khadijah held onto them by writing whatever she remembered when she went home.
For the first time, life in KL had become so much more tolerable. She was terribly homesick. Yet, as she entered her 5th year at the souvenir stall, she realised the number of stories she had recorded. They filled more than ten large notebooks by now, but more than anything, they filled the gaps within her heart. They made her feel infinitely tiny, but they also made her feel a lot less lonely.
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[XW] 03: Alter (497 words)
Prompt 6: Mountain
Welcome to Alter. Here, you are free to be.
A voice spoke gently as the words appeared in cobalt blue and electric pink. The voice was not human. It had a distinct animal quality to it, but it was difficult to tell what creatures they used to produce the voice.
Be a tigress in the light. Be a scientist in your skin. Be a tree in the plains.
The taglines continued to flash in neon colours. The voice changed with every phrase it spoke—grounded, metallic, then shallow.
We are the leading pioneers of body modification technology in the universe. With avant-garde designers and state-of-the-art engineers, we are constantly innovating never-before-seen structures for all species. Here, you'll be able to procure the best—and the most secure—components in pristine conditions for your best interests.
The introduction video was looped on a large, curved screen that made up the inner walls of the reception. The background changed from mountainous ranges to endless oceans, all with the same words on the screen. Jurgen was here for a follow-up appointment with Dr. Dinesh—the brilliant Class One Neuro who redesigned his entire body after the accident. He has been particularly fond of the doctor since. He scanned his eyes with one of the many service holograms. It updated Jurgen's access to the building automatically and gave him precise directions to Dr. Dinesh's room. He didn't need the map.
As he walked towards the elevator, passerby's were admiring his mods. It was impressive, after all. Six years' worth of body modifications gave him a look of a fearsome—and gruesome—creature of power. At six-foot-two, his authentic human height gave the doctor a large canvas to work with.
Cybernetic comms linked to intranets as well as the universe-wide web. Four titanium arms that could lift a hundred times his own weight. Bones lined with diamond. A dual-core generator with a defibrillator in case of death. A multi-atmosphere respiratory system which allowed him to breathe anywhere without assistance. A military-grade unnamed alloy which replaced his skin cells, forming an impenetrable armour.
He had been one of Alter's key ambassadors for five years now. One of the multi-trillion conglomerate's greatest successes. But due to his nature of work, Alter had to encrypt and distort the public's view of him, so that he may still have the element of discretion during his investigations.
Jurgen took the elevator to the 8th floor. As the door opened, he glided across the corridor to Room 8 with ease. Even with a hefty build, his body had design details that silenced his every move. The door before him were illuminated with the words 'Dr. Dinesh, Resident Doctor, Highest Anthropoid Award'. He knocked. The door whooshed open. He entered, set down his coat, and took a seat.
Dr. Dinesh was a small man. Almost a dwarf, really. He grinned at Jurgen, showing a perfect set of quadruple-row shark teeth.
"My boy. It's good to see you again."
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[XW] 02: Begin (494 words)
Prompt 4: Peach
Rook smelled like gasoline. He had asked Jurgen to meet him at the diner near Precinct R68, their home base. He never liked being in the precinct.
"Jurgen."
"Rook. ...I really don't want to ask where you've been."
"Yeah. No. What've we got?"
There was a plate of peach cobbler topped with vanilla ice-cream, a large mug of coke, and five empty metal cups. Only one fork. Jurgen pressed a button on his left wrist to display a hologram that was only visible to Rank A police officers. The wonders of body modifications.
"Do you mind?" Rook gestured at his peach cobbler. Jurgen raised his chin quickly for him to go ahead. The fork levitated, cut and scooped a bit of peach and pastry, then placed it in Rook's mouth. He closed his eyes in satisfaction before directing all four of it back to the hologram.
"Eric. Right." Rook shrugged.
"He's at his fifth victim now. Chief says he's making a fool of us." Jurgen downed his mug of coke.
"Damn right he is. We haven't had much to go on with, though. Aside from the notes and the locations of where we discover the bodies, every vic has been of different species and caste. There's nothing connecting them. How the hell are we going to find out who he's going to kill next?" Rook took another bite from his peach cobbler sloppily.
"Forensics came back with a new report this morning. The latest vic had moon dust on her." The hologram flashed to a different report. It had a 3D photograph of a bright sapphire sphere.
"A Sapphire Moon?" Rook's voice went a little off-pitch. He was wolfing down the peach cobbler as he read the forensics report.
Sapphire Moons were not rare, but they were uncommon enough to be a good lead. Out of 7000 moons, there were 236 Sapphire Moons in their galaxy. Rook hated research, but he was ready to gun down paperwork to find this son of a bitch.
---
On Sapphire Moon B32, Eric was having a very busy day.
He wore his hair back, slick. He looked like a fine, young, human man. He wore a sharp suit underneath the bulky, plastic, industrial apron. He didn't like getting filth on any of his clothes.
There was a Caste One Velos on the slab. She had been dead for 62 minutes. Her eyes were missing. There was blood on her claws and beak. Eric cleaned them carefully, so as not to rip his own skinsuit in the process.
This was his favourite part. Cleaning them. It always calmed him. He whistled in perfect pitch as he was doing this. It was to the tune of Queen's Don't Stop Me Now.
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[XW] 01: Eric (499 words)
Prompt 2: Key
Five bodies. Five moons. Five notes. One word.
"Next."
---
"This is the FIFTH body in two months."
The Chief Inspector wasn't pleased at all. Five planets have been terrorised by the same murderer, all with the same modus operandi. He calls himself Eric. (There were many Erics to begin with, but it didn't stop the force from combing through databases.)
All his victims were cut up, like butchers would with poultry. Each was discovered on a different moon, hung up at the entrance of Galactic Police precincts. The hunt has been on for two months now. Detective Jurgen was standing in the room with the Chief Inspector before him. He was holding a hot cup of super-strong Black Death coffee.
"Jurgen, you need to do something about this. He's making a fool out of us!" Kai Jurgen was six-foot tall. Unbeknownst to most, he was also a proud human. With all the body modifications, he looked far from one. But his height was authentic. He inherited it from his father. It was the only thing he inherited from his father.
"Chief, there are no prints, all the notes were printed, and none of the girls he killed were borderline identifiable. The only thing we can run on is his name. Eric. And his motive. Us. We've looked for cops who were fired in the past five years, but no Erics there."
Detective Jurgen sipped on his coffee loudly. It slid down his glass throat. The Chief Inspector turned around to look out his window. It was an empty space filled with nothing but distant stars. He was clenching his fists. "We'll find him," said the detective.
The Chief Inspector turned and slammed his fists on his desk. His mug tipped over and spilt whatever remaining contents in it. "You better do your damn job, Jurgen. This is on you. Now get out of my office and catch that killer."
Jurgen walked out and the doors shut behind him automatically. There was a short hush right before he walked back to his desk. He continued to sip on his coffee loudly as he did so. The rest of the precinct bustled back into its usual uproar. Petty thieves and convicts were rattling the lockup. Uniform cops were filing reports. Clerks were busy looking busy. Jurgen's partner was nowhere to be found. As usual.
Jurgen reached his desk. It was at the edge of the floor, right next to the elevator. He had already finished his coffee. He set his cup down and reached for the screen on his desk. He keyed in five numbers and a dial tone entered his ears.
"Rook! Where are you? Get back here, we need to investigate this Eric thing. Look, I know Chief's been a pain about this case, but we really need to get this case moving."
Rook spoke. Jurgen nodded. He ended the call with a wave over his ears. He took a seat and peered through the case files again.
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Going on another Inktober writing prompt next! This time, we’re doing a 2018 Inktober prompt from @furrylittlepeach.
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[XW] Thank you, next. (485 words)
Based on prompt #30: “Fade”
She slammed her Macbook shut. The weather was sunny and bright, a perfect day. Her tears didn't get the chance to leave her eyes. She wiped them all off with her sleeves. The café was bustling with activity. Businessmen grabbing their to-go espressos, baristas smiling tirelessly, and freelancers pretending to work.
She sat in silence.
James had been nice. Really nice. He was the kind of guy that you would bring to meet your parents. He dressed nice, smelled nice, and always smiled. Even when he was hurting. She remembered joking about it with him while soothing his pain with a long cuddling session.
James was an orthodontist. He was smart, funny, and thoughtful. Their first date was a simple dinner at Carmine's, a cosy Italian restaurant. They had met at the clinic, and he'd asked her out on a whim. He cleaned up really nice. Not that he wasn't already polished when she first saw him outside the clinic, rescuing a fledgeling.
Her mind returned to where she was. The background noise faded into static. She was still processing the news she had just received. She was peering through every moment with him now, searching for clues.
He always smelled like some kind of flower. It was a sickly sweet scent that she could never get used to, but she overlooked it because he was always so nice. That was the important thing to look at, wasn't it? His wardrobe was always more organised than hers. He washed his hands excessively. She recalled seeing a dismembered fledgeling on his study table before James appeared suddenly at the door with a smile. She brushed it off. Because he was always so nice, wasn't he?
She opened her Macbook. This time, she gave the Telegram message a good read. It was set to self-destruct in 4 minutes.
Hey Nia, if it's not all too troublesome, I need you to come home for a bit. There's been an accident. I really need your help. Now.
He had been clumsy. Careless. Of course she knew about Sally. After all, she was the one who installed cameras in their apartment. Every morning before they left, their neighbour Sally would chat with James. She saw it all through the cameras. It annoyed her endlessly, but she let him. What she failed to realise was that he was so impulsive. So eager. Sally had blond hair and blue eyes; she should have known.
She switched over to the live feed and watched it intently. There was an arm dangling over the edge of the bathtub. James was sitting on the bathroom floor with a hammer in his right hand.
It was such a shame. She was really looking forward to introducing him to her parents. They would have loved him. Guess she’ll have to find someone else. Someone more like her. Someone who was more in control of their urges.
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