Category Archives: Short Stories

Fanfiction, Guest Author

A friend dreams a sequel to ‘Pandora’s Box’

A month ago, I was talking with my friend, Laura Brooks, a college freshman from Michigan, who told me she dreamed a sequel to my novel, Pandora’s Box, after reading it. I asked her to write this dream down so I could post it here, calling it a “fanfiction” (you know you’re successful when people write fanfiction related to your stories). What follows is a synopsis of that dream, written much like a story treatment for a movie. Now, believe it or not, I have been mulling over ideas for a sequel for a year, although this bears little resemblance to it. Regardless, this dream is entertaining. Enjoy!

(WARNING: If you haven’t read Pandora’s Box yet, there are some spoilers in this).

Pandora’s Box Dream
by Laura Brooks

It started after Hope went to visit the place she was found. After they had used her blood to discover the cure, she left to join to the armed force her mother was in. After one year of training, she could take down any enemy put in front of her despite the fact that she was just a simple recruit.  She went out with her superior officer on a mission. They were attacked by strange black creatures. They took down the creatures and were amazed by what they saw. They looked like people but had pure black skin, and bloodshot eyes. News struck of another infection.

Her commanding officer said that they needed to return to base immediately.  When they got there, they discovered that the base had been attacked, and everyone had been turned or slaughtered. They saw only one survivor, their general. The general told them to escape, but her commanding officer said he wouldn’t leave him behind. Instead he told Hope to run, but she refused and started fighting. With her blade and fists she knocked down or slashed every creature that tried to kill her. Both of the commanding officer and the general shouted at her for staying and kept trying to get over to her to help. That’s when she came across her best friend from training. She had been turned.

Hope didn’t want to fight her, but knew she had no choice. She charged and took down everyone in her path. Receiving wound after wound she looked to her friend and sadly said, “Goodbye.” She slashed at her friend but received a deep cut in the side as a result. She knew the only way she could survive was to kill her so she did what she had to. She stabbed her friend down. She had no time to cry over her friend for her commanding officer was being overpowered. She rushed over to his side and slashed one of the creatures across the stomach with her blade. But just when everything seemed to be going their way they were surrounded. The general said, “Looks like we’re not getting out of this one.” She responded, “I’m not done yet!” The creatures lunged towards them from all sides.  There was no escape. (This is when I woke up).

Comedy, Romance, Short Stories

Love and Pac-Man

Love and Pac-Man
By Nathan Marchand

“I don’t wanna be here, Joey!” cried my blonde eight-year-old sister, Kay. “I wanna ride the Wild Mouse!”

I tightened my grip on her tiny hand as we walked to Adventureland’s arcade, Tilt. The stares we were getting from parents and their kids were palpable. I smiled awkwardly at some passersby and then turned my attention to Kay. “Don’t worry. We’ll ride it soon. I just want to play some of the games in here, okay? I promise I’ll buy you a stuffed Black Beauty with the tickets I win.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Pinky swear!” My sister held up her mouse-tail of a pinky.

I wrapped my, by comparison, python-like pinky around hers and swore my oath.

Instantly, Kay smiled, and said, “Okay!” With that, she released my hand and ran through the door into Tilt.

I shook my head and sighed. Maybe I was better off spending my Friday night working on my old laptop or reading a C.S. Lewis book. But someone has to watch her while Mom and Dad are out on their “date night.” That thought felt like a knife through the heart. I wish I had a date tonight. I harrumphed. At least in our tiny rural town we have a half-decent little theme park to go to. I can enjoy a bit of the hot weather this summer before I go back to college.

I pushed open the door and was greeted by a rainbow of flashing neon signs, the smell of pizza, the screaming laughter of children, musty air, and the cacophony of Donkey Kong, Street Fighter, and Mario Bros. Shouting over it was the song “Don’t Stop Believin’” by Journey, which was blaring from the jukebox. It brought back happy childhood memories.

“Hi-ho, Silver, away!”

I looked to my right and saw a giggling Kay straddling a Lone Ranger-themed coin-operated horse ride sitting next to a Pac-Man machine.

“How’d you get that to work?” I asked.

“I found a quarter on the floor,” replied Kay, smiling coyly.

I rolled my eyes. A few seconds later, the horse stopped, and I lifted Kay off “Silver” and onto the floor. I crouched to make eye contact. “What poor boy did you charm into giving you his hard-earned money?”

Kay hung her head and wrung her hands, wearing her trademark “pouty face.”

“Spit it out, Sissy.”

Hesitantly, she pointed behind me and said, “That one.”

I looked over my shoulder. There, standing between an animatronic Abraham Lincoln and a Gunpowder arcade machine was a little brown-haired boy about her age wearing a Quickdraw McGraw T-shirt—and he was holding the hand of Sue Preor!

I gulped. My sister had just swindled money from my high school crush’s little brother!

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Short Stories, Literary, Drama

You Are Not Alone

Rain pattered against the massive windows, skewing the plane as it descended from the sea of gray looming in the sky. Ethan had been sitting in the airport terminal for what seemed like hours, his hands folded, his head hung. Dozens of empty seats surrounded him like an army. The P.A. hardly, if ever, resounded. He looked up to see his flight crawl down the runway.

He glanced at his watch. His head fell as he sighed, his hand running through his muddy hair. Blockaded tears stung his sealed eyes. A deep breath helped steel his resolve. He zipped up his black jacket, picked up the duffel bag sitting at his feet, stood, and walked toward the gateway. He didn’t look back.

“Ethan, wait!”

Two steps from the gateway, he stopped, turning around. Zoe sprinted toward him. Her amber hair was drenched, nearly brown. Her soaked white university shirt clung to her every curve. Short but shapely legs half-hidden by jean shorts carried her swiftly, her flip-flops slapping her tiny feet.

Ethan just stood there, glowering.

Zoe ran to him, slowing to catch her breath. Her sapphire eyes looked up at Ethan, who was almost a head taller than her, rain pouring down her face. “I made it in time.”

Ethan crossed his arms. “No, you’re late.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get your e-mail until after my economics class. I had no idea you were going to leave.”

“Nobody did because nobody cared.”

Zoe’s lip quivered. “How could–”

“—I say that? Because I’ve been at that college for five months and no one accepts me. A few people act like they’re my friends, but it’s nothing but masks. I did all I could to fit in, make friends, but I’m just some weird artist to them, so they treat me like a leper.”

“I’m…sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for them!” snapped Ethan, pointing accusatively. “You listened to them. You and all the other freshmen let the upperclassmen decide who your friends should be, who was allowed to join the student aristocracy. You were one of them by the end of the first semester.”

Zoe dropped her gaze. “I had no idea they were hurting you so much.”

“You never asked.” Ethan shook his head. “When I met you the first day of classes, I thought you were different. You went to my art exhibits and my poetry recitations. You seemed to understand me. I guess I was wrong.”

“I came here, didn’t I?”

“I don’t know why. None of your ‘friends’ bothered to come. It just proves what I’ve known all along—nobody would miss me if I died tomorrow.”

Zoe sealed her eyes and clenched her fists. “Would it help if—“

“I don’t want to hear it!” shot Ethan, waving his hand dismissively. “It won’t change that I’m cursed to be an outcast everywhere I go. Even home isn’t home anymore. I sent that e-mail to everyone I knew, and even my parents haven’t tried to stop me. What does that tell you?”

Zoe wrung her hands, her eyes staring at the floor and her body tense. “I don’t know…”

“It tells me that I am, and always will be, alone.”

Zoe stood there in silence.

Ethan glanced at the window as the thunderous hum of the passenger jet whined in his ears. “My flight is here finally,” he said, looking back at Zoe. “I have to go.”

“Where?” she asked, her voice cracking.

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Short Stories, Literary, Drama

Gravedigger

After weeks of searching, I’d finally found a decent job—at a graveyard. But after only a few hours of work on my first day, Adam, my boss, insisted I come with him outside. My buddies told me this wasn’t good, but hey, what am I supposed to do? Tell him, “No,” and get fired?

Adam led me into the heart of the graveyard, an ocean of dead yellow grass peppered with black and gray headstones. When we reached the center of the property, Adam stopped, and handed me a rusty shovel. “Dig, boy.”

“For what?” I retorted. “Jack Sparrow’s pot o’ gold?”

“You heard me–dig. And don’t stop ‘til I tell you.”

With that, he walked away.

I sighed, and stabbed the ground with the shovel. The soil was strangely soft. I quickly piled it into a dry heap, nearly suffocating on the dust cloud that enveloped me with every scoop of dirt.

Hours passed. Adam never told me to stop. Heck, I never saw him again that day. The hole deepened, and I slowly descended into it. I didn’t notice how far down I was until I stopped briefly to wipe the sweat from my forehead. The ground was eye-level with me. I cursed my dumb luck, and threw another shovel-full of dirt over my head.

When the ground was a foot over my head, I heard several gruff voices talking about things I don’t care to repeat. After a few minutes, there was a loud thud, like something had been stabbed into the ground.

“What’s going on?” I called.

“Just keep digging, just keep digging,” said one of the voices, sarcastically. I heard his friends laugh and give him high-fives. Then they left.

I kept digging.

Darkness was descending. I’d lost track of time. Where’s Adam? How long do I have to keep digging? I could hardly see above me. Was this some kind of cruel joke? My veins burned, my muscles screamed in pain.

I kept digging.

“Hey!” a voice from above suddenly called.

Sighing, I said, “Is that you, Adam?”

“No,” he said, and quickly moved on. “Do you realize what you’re doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You must stop now!”

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Short Stories, Literary, Comedy, Satire

All Our Passions

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All Our Passions
By Nathan Marchand

“I’m still here, my darling. I just dozed off a little.”

“Then maybe you should take a break. You’ve been there for hours.”

“Oh, hello nurse. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I moonlight as a ninja.”

“Heh-heh. No, I can’t leave my Joseph. I want to be the first person he sees when he wakes up from this coma.”

“How romantic! I hope he appreciates having such a vigilant wife.”

“Trust me, he does.”

“Just don’t squeeze his hand too hard. I’d hate to put it in a caste after he wakes up.”

“I think he’ll be fine. He has strong hands.”

“I’ll go get you some coffee.”

“Thank you.”

…

“It’s me, your blonde goddess Mercedes, my love. I’m the only one here now. I know that Corvette was your favorite car, but it was totaled in your accident. The police are still trying to figure out what caused it. I know you’d never do anything to wreck it. You loved it almost as much as you loved me. I promise Daddy will buy you a new one when—”

“Get away from him!”

“Jeffrey! What’s wrong with you?”

“Get away from my twin brother, dirty whore!”

“How dare you barge in and talk to me like that! I’m his wife!”

“Stop lying! I know about your plot.”

“What plot?”

“Don’t play innocent with me! The man lying on that bed isn’t Joseph—I’m Joseph!”

“You’re insane!”

“Am I?”

“Yes. You were always jealous I married your brother and not you.”

“You drugged me at our wedding reception, and then had my twin brother take my place.”

“I’d never do such a thing!”

“You treacherous slut! I know Jeffrey stole you from me and the two of you conspired to have him take my place and have me put away in some loony bin.”

“I love him, Jeffrey. I’d—”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT! I’M JOSEPH! I’M THE MAN YOU MARRIED!”

“No, you’re not! The man I married is lying there after nearly dying in a car accident.”

“Haha. Who do you think caused it?”

“What?”

“I cut the car’s break line so it’d look like an accident. If I couldn’t have you, neither would he!”

“You bastard!  I’m calling the nurse.”

“No, you won’t!”

“Let go of me!”

“Shut up, bitch!”

“Ahh! Ow!”

“Did you like having sense smacked into you?”

“Someone will hear this and call security!”

“Not with this chair barricading the door. Even then, it’s your word against mine.”

“Idiot! Joseph, Jeffrey, whoever is in that bed may be in a coma, but he’s heard everything. He’ll know what you did and tell everyone!”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Don’t you touch him!”

“Out of my way!”

“Ahhh!”

“Once I pull this plug, I’ll finish what I started.”

“No! Please—”

BEEEEEEP!

***

Jeffrey shot from his bed, gasping.

“Are you okay, Jeffrey?” asked his wife, who was sitting in bed next to him. “You’re as pale as a ghost and sweating like a pig.”

“Mercedes…I…”

“Was it Jeffrey or Joseph who pulled the plug?” interrupted a TV announcer. “Did Mercedes really plot to run away with her husband’s brother? Find out tomorrow on All Our Passions.”

“It’s weird watching this show because two characters have the same names as us.”

“What are you watching?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I turned on the cable TV. It was tuned to the Soap Opera Network. I’m sorry if it woke you. I thought I’d turned it down enough. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Trust me.”

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, but I wish I had.”