Sunday, December 27, 2020

PROMPT FICTION CONTEST WINNER -- Tri-Blade "Helpless to Save"

Everyone, please congratulate the first-place winner of the PROMPT Fiction Contest, Tri-Blade. Whoo-hoo. Good job, good job indeed!

Rubbing a thumb around the green-coloured medal, now the third of that hue (and fourth of that placement) in his collection, Tri-blade sighed quietly. While he was relatively content with his individual performances in the competition, he wasn't fond of the team results. He was especially disappointed for one of his teammates who had yet to experience a round victory.
Rosa and Aflima weren't nearby, but he smiled briefly in the knowledge that they had broken out of their own personal doldrums.

The announcer's voice washed over the arena floor, but Tri-blade's thoughts were elsewhere.

Even as the stadium was washed over with unusually coloured orange light, his reaction was slow and futile. His weapons, enchanted to sense magical disturbance, hummed and glowed in their usual fashion but they were unnoticed as Tri-blade's vision darkened.

He was underwater.

He felt as if he couldn't dare breathe, but was otherwise coherent in thought.

Nobody could be seen around him and Tri-blade was confused as to his location or how to get out of this situation. He tried to paddle, move his legs, but he was somehow rooted in mid-sea. Even turning his head was futile.

At this point, panic began to set in.

As he flailed about, stationery figures appeared in the distance. They moved slowly closer, time moving at glacial pace.

An attempted shout - a desperate act - went unheard and unnoticed.

He felt the tears on his face as the figures came into focus. Aflima stood silently at around twenty feet away, wearing his trademark shades and his brown-auburn hair floating lazily in the water. Aflima stood motionless, not showing any sign of consciousness. Right behind him stood a young woman, wearing a sleeveless jacket over her tank top and blue jeans. She wore no shades, and her eyes were fixed in no particular direction.

"Rosa," said Tri-blade, but again no sound was emitted.

A dark shape of nondescript shape appeared next to Tri-blade's friends. It was of similar size to the humans but Tri-blade immediately sensed it was malevolent in intent. He reached his arm forward in desperation, but again there was no effect. He could only look on helplessly as the shadow reached towards Aflima and Rosa. On touching the two, they fell down, their bodies turning to pitch black before vanishing.

Complete fear and panic enveloped the now fully-crying Tri-blade. He could only stare, the tears streaming down his face, as the figure of Analisa came to view. The dark shape approached and reached out. A second later, another of Tri-blade's closest friends vanished.

Others came to view. Loved ones, friends from his home world, colleagues from his days in the S.H.C. realm. They came into view, the dark shape slowly moved towards them and struck each of them in turn without pause. Tri-blade didn't even try to scream or move, as fear and resignation took hold. "Is this how the world ends?..." he thought.

A voice, the first he had heard since going underwater, was faintly heard.

"Wake... up," it echoed through the vast ocean.

Tri-blade blinked.

"Wake. Up." Louder this time, and Tri-blade's urge to breathe again overtook him.

With heavy gasps, he looked around to see no ocean and no dark shapes, but instead a mass of confusion. Heroes of various leagues were lying on the ground or stumbling uncertainly, as if they just woke from an intense dream.

Sitting up, Tri-blade wiped away the all-too-real tears that continued to stream down his face.

The loud beep from his comms unit stirred him to his feet. He looked for his friends, and was relieved to see them alert and prepared to answer the call.

Thank you to everyone for showing support for all of those who put effort forth to tell a story.
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