Drabble Challenge: Death

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Drabble Challenge: Death

Postby Bane Of Kings » Fri Jul 15, 2011 11:28 am

Alright, here's my turn. Write a 100 words on the theme of Death. Should be quite simple really, considering... in the far future, there is only war... right?
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"The Machine asked me to tell you something before we part. You once told John the whole point of Pandora’s box was that once you’ve opened it, you can’t close it again. She wanted me to remind you of how the story ends. When everything is over, when the worst has happened, there’s still one thing left in Pandora’s box: hope"
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Re: Drabble Challenge: Death

Postby Major Rawne » Mon Aug 01, 2011 8:40 pm

As the fires of war raged around her, men and women alike fought hard. They fought hard because they had to, because there was no other choice left to them. Even the dreaded and hated commissars had given up on deserters. What point was there, she mused, there was nowhere left to run.

Here in her last moments on a world that she had no real care for, she could never have imagined that it would be so easy. In an Imperium so full of hardships, how was it that death could come so easily, when life was so hard.
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Re: Drabble Challenge: Death

Postby Commander Shadow » Thu Aug 25, 2011 10:29 pm

A shallow grave in a ditch by the road. Feeling the flies crawl over my face, swarming over my hot blood. My arms won't move, my throat is dry as a desert, and the flies are buzzing in my ears. Speaking to me.

It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Its always someone else. Someone else takes the bullet when the chimera's doors open. Someone else screams and falls to the dirt. You never think of them till the fight is over. Till the roar is done, till you smell the air, the burning ozone. Till you feel your lasgun warm in your hands and your heart racing, telling you that you're alive.

Its always someone else crying for help when no one will hear. Always a stranger.
- And there arose from the abyss a terrible beast and the armies of man were laid low by the walls of the ancient city. The ground shook and the skies trembled and all knew as the beast had come forth and that the end of time was upon them.

"Shadow is always right, except when he tries to save his men from charging orks" - Ang
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Re: Drabble Challenge: Death

Postby Stuart000X » Fri Aug 26, 2011 6:25 pm

What is death?

Is it the ending of a man’s life, when he gasps his final breath? Is it the extinguishing of an idea, a hope, or a prayer?

Or perhaps it isn’t in one singular act itself, but on the monumental scale it is performed?

Nay! It is both and neither. I and my brothers have witnessed all and none, for though we surviving few can say to be the bearer witnesses to the slaying of billions, it is the ending of a once Golden Age and our Father’s dream that we truly saw death.


- Rogal Dorn

99 words long this was.
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Re: Drabble Challenge: Death

Postby Shogun_Nate » Sat Aug 27, 2011 7:32 am

High pitched porcine squeals filled the air, the chariot pelting over the cliff‘s side. Gorsnag, a look of terror stitched across his face, turned to Ugnutz, gesticulating wildly in general direction of the dwarf-skin pouch hanging from the chariot‘s side. Nodding, Ugnutz thrust his mighty paw into the sack, rummaging around it with a manic energy born of one who wished to live. A look of triumph crossed the ancient orc’s face on pulling out the operator‘s manual.

“In case uv fire…”

Slapping his forehead, Gorsnag bellowed, “Wez not on fire yooz git!!”

Four wet splats sounded the final requiem.
I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed man.
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Re: Drabble Challenge: Death

Postby RobertCruz » Tue May 15, 2012 11:25 pm

“And after?”

“After that? Why father…you are slain. Not quickly mind you. Your brightest son has his revenge, your blighted one his sacrifice.

But you? You suffer a wound that cannot heal. You are elevated. You ascend. You are entombed in a throne of golden light that shines through the galaxy for millennia to come. Your husk of an Imperium withers but never dies.”

“Never?”

“Tell me father, whose dynasty lasts longer – the predator’s - bathed in death, or the leech’s - suckling from an undying host?”

“I see.”

“Doubtful. So what topic next father?”

“Your death, Konrad.”

“I see.”
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Re: Drabble Challenge: Death

Postby Smackbeth » Tue Aug 07, 2012 12:03 am

The medicae slumped upon a creaking fold-stool, head hung in shame.

Clotted blood had long marred the folds of his gown into a creaseless bloodslicked stain, a stain created predominantly by the cooling corpse of the Colonel beside him.

They would come for him now he realised, ruffling sweat-streaked hair.

He knew the regiment would need a foe to face head-on. Their all-consuming need for atonement at such a loss would overreach any semblance of grief, reason, or sanity and so he would pay their price for that too.
As voices clamoured outside the medicae smiled grimly.

‘Bloody Catachans’.
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Re: Drabble Challenge: Death

Postby Cavash » Wed Aug 15, 2012 8:59 pm

Death comes in many forms. The subtle blade parting the flesh, the flaying tools of the Haemonculi peeling away whatever dignity you once had.

Each one came with an admirable bout of pain, something to be savoured… something to be remembered.

Of every final breath ever felt, this was by far his least favourite. Others he had enjoyed as the pain blessed his flesh, but now as his movement slowed and he looked to his ever darkening hands a soul shattering terror overcame him

This was not death. This was the curse of the Glass Plague.

This was true death.
Night Hydra - A Dark Eldar tale.
http://www.thedarkcity.net/t4511-night-hydra
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Re: Drabble Challenge: Death

Postby MalkyDel » Thu Aug 16, 2012 11:15 am

This is not my death.

I remember that, in the moments between dying, in the gaps in my memory. This is not my death. I do not die here, rent open on the floor of an abominable bridge- blood and failure drying on my lips.

I do not die here. This is not my death.

I am not my father.

I try to fight the mad rush of recollection, the falsehoods filling me like rain fills a gutter, like blood fills a wound.

No.

I must not think of blood.

I must not think of death.

I have to live.
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Then one day at Istvaan III,
Horus came to say.
"Fulgrim with your clothes so bright,
won't you help me slay tonight?"
Then all the rebels loved him
And they shouted out with glee.
"Fulgrim the Traitor Primarch,
you'll go down in history!"
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