One more short story. Hello and thank you for
joining me again on One More Short Story with
me, Chris Fullwell, where we showcase a variety
of stories from the world of writing battle.
Now, if you're someone who's been sent this and
you don't take part in writing battle yourself,
but you're interested, it is genuinely my favourite
writing competition and it's well, well worth
a look. It's a great community and the whole
process is just the right kind of bonkers and
lots of fun. So looking forward to sharing these
stories with you today. Now, I've put these two
together based on a theme. Now, not as simple
as... say a genre like horror or sci -fi or fantasy
etc etc but rather the theme of inevitability
what must happen what could happen what should
not happen and the two stories we've got explore
that really really well in very very different
ways now to kick things off first of all we've
got will this cycle last forever by Maverick
Jones. It's a sword and sorcery story from the
last short story battle. The other two prompts
were antique store and unifier. That would certainly
have me scratching my head, but not Maverick.
They have done a really, really, really strong
job here. I think it's a very clever story. I
think it's probably one of the most intricate
and intelligent stories I've come across on Writing
Battle. It's a real treat. I think you're going
to enjoy it. I have to give a shout out to Sam
James for organising the audio on this. Sam had
done this long before this podcast was a thing.
He'd sorted it out for Maverick to publish on
the Writing Battle site. So thank you, Sam, for
that. Without further ado, here we go. We have
Will This Cycle Last Forever? Written and narrated
by Maverick Jones. Will this cycle last forever
by Maverick Jones? The wall touching the sky
camouflaged Elizabeth's surroundings, yet she
could see the beast clear as day. Draped in shadows,
its sharp claws dug into the dirt, looking for
stable ground. But the bone jutting from its
leg made that impossible. It slipped on its own
blood, yelping in pain. Elizabeth adjusted her
stance, mud squelching beneath her boot, and
readied her sword. Though she tasted victory,
she could not let her guard down. It was her
or the beast. She had to win. Her thumb pressed
against the fire ruby. at the base of her sword's
hilt. The blade blazed with a fire impervious
to the water drowning the earth around her. The
beast roared in defeat. The emerald pendant around
its neck oscillated with the wind, and its onyx
eyes glistened. It bowed its head, accepting
its fate. She wouldn't waste this opportunity.
With all her strength, She sprinted head -on,
leaped into the air, and decapitated the monster
trapping everyone inside. You must break the
pattern today, or the loop will repeat tomorrow.
Elizabeth awoke once again at Rosetta's inn.
She gazed out the sole window next to her bed.
Her shoulders sagged at the dark grey clouds
engulfing the sky. The same weather as yesterday,
and all the days before, the cycle had repeated.
The room was no different either. Cracked masonry
strained against the pounding rain, and the ceiling
still leaked by the dresser with the broken mirror.
Elizabeth tiptoed around the scattered glass.
the worn wood creaking with each step. She picked
clothes at random from the piled mess on the
floor, black trousers, tunic, and a hooded cape.
Combing through her unruly red hair, she deftly
twisted it into a single braid and strapped her
sword around her waist. Throwing her hood up,
she walked out her room. Elizabeth was grateful
she was near the back door. She hated seeing
the shell Rosetta had turned into, a lost soul.
They lined the streets, unbothered by the pelting
rain. Their charcoal bodies buzzed when Elizabeth
walked past. Not from their mouths, but their
soul yearning for anything to nurture it. Where
their eyes once stood now held a black hole,
a mark of failure from the beast. Nothing exists
within them. She trudged along the path, averting
her gaze from the lost souls. They avoided her
too. She stopped at Jace's magical emporium and
went inside. Jace stood in the same spot behind
the counter, cleaning the Veritas mirror, a relic
from the 5th century. Though his white hair was
wild, his robe was neatly tied with no crinkles,
and his poise held the utmost elegance. No luck,
I gather, Jace asked without looking up. Besides
herself and the beast, only their encounters
changed with each cycle. It's still today, isn't
it? Jace rolled his eyes at her grumbling tongue.
What went wrong this time? I took too long, Elizabeth
said. I was midway up the wall when midnight
struck. She fixed him with a determined look.
I need the lightning topaz. You've tried that
stone already, remember? It intensified the electromagnetic
field and you fried your heart. I know, but it'll
give me more time to think. I'm certain I can
avoid getting struck. Jace stared at her with
a deadpan expression. Please, it'll work this
time. I know it. She lied. He sighed. Jace placed
the Veritas mirror next to the empty velvet cushion
in the main display case. Next to the late 19th
century cash register was a wooden box which
held the elemental gem collection. Each stone
carried a different ability. Though powerful
without magic, Elizabeth needed the extra confidence.
Jace picked up the bright yellow stone. He waved
his hand and whispered, The crystal hummed to
life. Elizabeth felt the hairs on her arms stand
up. Taking the topaz from Jace's outstretched
hand, she placed it at the base of her sword.
Once there, the blade sizzled with electricity.
Thank you, Elizabeth smiled at him. I'll see
you tomorrow. Jace pressed his lips into a thin
line and gave a single nod as a reply. Wasting
no further time, Elizabeth hurried out the door.
We must break the pattern today. Elizabeth was
winning with ease. Using the horrendous weather,
she brought the beast to a heel faster than ever.
It woofered with each electric twitch, which
bolstered Elizabeth's determination. One more
strike, then I can climb. As she raised her sword
once more, a voice carried through the wind,
quiet, soft, and pleading. Why are you hurting
me? She froze. Elizabeth looked at the beast,
really looked, and saw its eyes heavy with pain
beyond their battles. They held the torment weight
of a thousand cycles. In her hesitation, the
beast charged and swiped her with its claws.
Numb, she watched her legs fly in the opposite
direction of her head. Her blood mixed with mud.
As life left her body, she clung to her lost
thought. Is it a prisoner too? Elizabeth shot
up from her bed, panting. Her fingertips brushed
the faint scars on her stomach. The beast's words
echoed in her mind. All these cycles, every battle,
she never thought of the beast. Guilt clutched
her heart at her selfish mindset. With newfound
curiosity, she ran out of the room, failing to
notice how the ceiling no longer leaked. A thick
fog laid over the streets, penetrated only by
the lost soul's eyes. No longer black holes,
they pierced the world with a brilliant white
light. All of them followed Elizabeth as she
went straight to the beast. Seeing it in the
clouded light of day, it did not appear nearly
as ferocious. The emerald pendant around its
neck glistened. Taking on its usual stance, the
beast let out a menacing roar. Elizabeth unsheathed
her sword, then stuck the blade into the ground.
She held her arms out. Don't worry, she said.
I won't hurt you. The beast charged and bit her
head clean off. You must break. I don't know
what you expected, Jay scoffed. There's a reason
it isn't called the Cuddly Teddy Bear. You weren't
there, Elizabeth paced back and forth. The tone
in its voice, how broken it looked. We're all
broken, he crossed his arms. That's why we're
stuck here, remember? Of course, I just... She
sighed. There's got to be a way to break the
cycle without... Killing it, right? Jace's dark
eyes hardened. No, he said. There isn't. Killing
the beast is the only way. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed.
Wasn't he always telling her to think outside
the box? She watched him with a weary expression.
Which will you take this time? He asked, pretending
to sort through the gems. As she contemplated,
her gaze landed on the empty velvet cushion in
the display case. She squinted. She never noticed
it had an outline of a pendant necklace. Her
eyes widened. What is it? Jace tapped his fingers
against the box. You. Elizabeth whispered. You
did this. What? You created the cycle. She slammed
her fist. The glass case shattered. You gave
the beast the earth pendant. It was you! Jace's
face morphed with guilt. Elizabeth, please, let
me... In one swift motion, Elizabeth unsheathed
her sword and decapitated him. The Pattern Today
Elizabeth did not get out of bed the next cycle,
or the following one. She briefly wondered if
this is how lost souls formed, and quickly found
she did not care. Jace, her companion, her friend.
Why would he do this? Why wouldn't he break the
cycle? Loneliness crept in and buried its anger
into her heart. While she laid, her thoughts
drifted through each cycle she lived through.
The breakthroughs, the setbacks, the immense
pressure to break it. Why me? Why do I have to
do this? What makes me so fucking special? It's
exhausting trying to save everyone. Save everyone.
Elizabeth sat up. She looked out the window at
the light gray clouds where a ray of sunlight
quietly broke through. She quickly dressed and
ran out without her sword. She knew what she
needed to do. Elizabeth busted into Jace's magical
emporium. Jace stood behind the counter with
a weak expression. A faint scar lined his neck.
Elizabeth, we can do apologies later, she said.
Right now, I need your help. He cocked an eyebrow.
Elizabeth marched up to the counter. I need the
Veritasmir and the heart quartz. Elizabeth paid
no mind to Jace's puzzled face. He eyed her up
and down while he handed her the mirror and fetched
the crystal. Is that all? He murmured, his eyes
avoiding hers. There's one more thing. You. Jace
flashed her a bewildered look. What? Me? He stammered.
But I... There's no time to explain. We have
to go now. Without waiting for a reply, Elizabeth
grabbed his hand. Together they ran out the door.
The lost souls wailed while they ran down the
street and into the forest. The wind mixed with
their howls as they drew closer to the wall.
Elizabeth, Jace panted. It was clear he wasn't
the athletic sort. This, this isn't going to
work. It will. No. He retched his hand from hers.
You, you don't understand. Jace's eyes gleamed
with tears. I didn't mean to build this. It was
easier not having that piece constantly screaming
inside my head. I just wanted it to stop. But
once they started to turn, he gazed back towards
the town. I realized my mistake. I tried to break
the cycle, but I... He choked. I couldn't. I
failed, Elizabeth. It won't work. Elizabeth pulled
him into a hug. Hot tears dripped onto her shoulder.
You're right, she said. You couldn't break it.
Neither could I. But together, she squeezed his
hand. We can. How can you be sure? Trust me.
Jace took a shaky breath. Okay, he nodded. They
slowed their pace to a brisk walk until they
came face to face with the beast. Jace covered
his ears at the beast's furious roars. It stamped
its feet, ready to pounce. What's the plan? Jace
asked in a shaky voice. Hold up the mirror. He
did as he was told. Elizabeth placed her hand
over his and adjusted the position until the
reflection held the beasts. She held up the heart
quartz. A pink glow refracted off the mirror
and landed on the beast. It cried and howled.
The shadows engulfing the creature melted away.
As it did, a child's voice emerged. No, no, no,
no, no, please. The lust of the darkness evaporated,
revealing a small boy with wild white hair. Tears
streamed down his face as he turned. Please don't
do this, he whimpered. I'm scared. Elizabeth
knelt. It's okay to be scared, she said softly.
That's why I'm here. I can protect you. Me, she
looked back. And Jace. The boy cast his eyes
over to Jace, who sat down beside him. I'm sorry,
he whispered. The boy jumped into Jace's arms,
and Elizabeth wrapped herself around them both.
Soon they were joined by all the lost souls holding
everyone close. The earth shook beneath them.
Large concrete blocks landed all around them,
but Elizabeth's soul held no fear. Nor victory.
At last, she found relief. Tomorrow. The morning
sun shed light onto a new day. One not lived
before. Although life wasn't easier, it at least
moved forward. One by one, lost souls found themselves
again, not by casting or living in their shadows,
but accepting both light and darkness live within.
While the cycle provided easy comfort, change,
however difficult, gave satisfaction. Elizabeth
catalyzed the cycle's collapse, but it was the
will of all who kept the walls from closing in
once again. However, bravery blazes strong in
their hearts, for they know what to do should
the cycle return. We must break the pattern today,
or the loop will repeat tomorrow. It's just so
intelligently written with the looping and the
repetition and the different approaches to how
to get away, to slay or not slay the beast. Yeah,
I loved it. I absolutely loved it. I could sit
here and pontificate on that all day, but I'm
not sure that anyone apart from me would want
to hear that. But Maverick, if you're listening,
that was a very, very strong piece of work. And
I know lots of people have told you that already.
both on Writing Battle in the debrief comments
section and in real life. Real life? What's that?
No idea. But I really hope that you're happy
with what you've produced because it's great.
Honestly, it is. It's a really, really strong
story. The second story we have today deals with
inevitability in a very, very different way.
It's Alexis Hunter's winning story from... last
year it's georgia valentine and the undoing of
death now this was in the winter flash fiction
battle 2024 and it was in the enemies to lovers
genre with the other two prompts of executioner
and lipstick what alexis has done here is tell
the story from the perspective of death and you'd
almost be forgiven for thinking that is not a
cheery subject, well, you'd be surprised. It's
a really, really lovely story, and Alexis has
narrated this herself for us, and she's done
a great job. I'm sure you're going to enjoy this,
so I'm going to stop waffling now. Here is Alexis
Hunter with her own story, Georgia Valentine
and the Undoing of Death. There is a rhythm to
my existence, an unseen metronome to my being.
Upon my scroll appears a name, a place, a time.
Tick. I step through the fabric of the universe
to the place on the scroll, the precise moment
of a mortal end. Tick. I execute my task, snipping
the thread of life. Tick. Upon my scroll appears
a name, a place, a time. Tick. The name on my
list is Georgia Valentine. I step into her room
through a door that isn't there and find that
she isn't dead. Or dying. Or anything adjacent
to either of those things. She is sitting at
her vanity, hair the colour of slate, twisted
into a perfect chignon. The wrinkles on her face
show a life long lived. She is applying lipstick
in a pearlescent shade of pink. A bottle of pill
sits on the vanity. Quite full. A glass of water
beside it, untouched. Am I early? This has never
happened before. I check the scroll. There her
name is, clear and shining. I check my internal
compass. This is the place. I pull the chain
-rattling timepiece from the folds of my robe.
This is the time. I look at the woman. She places
pouting lips. on the glass of the mirror and
leaves a perfect pink kiss on her reflection.
This is awkward. The door that was never there
to begin with has gone and will not return until
I have executed the reap soul step of this process
and the new name part has happened. I'm not sure
what to do. I move from feeling awkward to affronted.
This woman is ruining my existence. I prod her
gently with my scythe. albeit the pointy end,
to see if that moves the process along. It does
not. She whirls on me like a maniac, hairbrush
brandished as a weapon, and bellows, Who are
you? Good Lord, she can see me. They never see
me. I come, snip, they're dead. I leave. A perfectly
invisible existence. She narrows her eyes. What
do you want? If it's a robbery, I've got nothing.
If it's a sex thing, it's all dried up down there.
You want nothing to do with it. She wraps the
brush, frail arms moving windmill -like, to demonstrate
her fierce intent. I am not okay with this. Answer
me, pervert, she shouts, and I realise I have
to speak. I've never had to speak. I don't like
this at all. I'm deaf, I say, and I gesture to
the robes in the scythe. But the words sound
like a question, and that makes me furious. I
clear my throat and project what I hope is the
authority of my infinite office. Your time on
this mortal plane has come to an end. I gesture
to the bottle on the vanity, a hint that she
should continue as planned. She lowers the brush
a fraction, eyes drifting from me to the pills.
Oh, she says, her voice soft with surprise. The
thing is, I changed my mind. Changed your mind?
I splutter. This woman! I don't think you understand.
I've got a job to do here, and you haven't done
your part of it. It's like an assembly line.
You do your bit, then I do my bit. And voila,
you're dead. Off to the great beyond with you.
It's a woman's prerogative, she huffs. Death
is not a matter of prerogatives. It is the fabric
of the universe written by an unseen hand. I
shake my scroll at her in frustration. Your name
is written. That's it. I disappear the scroll
and brush my robes together in a dusting -of
-the -hands motion. She sighs, the fight leaving
her in a whoosh of air. Her eyes search the infinite
dark under the hood of my robes for understanding.
I have no idea if she will find it in there.
I've been so alone, she says, and the ache in
her voice settles heavy on my chest in a way
that is strange, yet familiar. Henry has been
gone for twelve years. I have no friends left.
They're all dead or in care homes. Too idle to
know who I am. Today, I came home from shopping
and I realised not a single person had spoken
to me. Not one. Just for a moment, I thought...
She sets her fearsome brush down by the bottle
and picks up the lipstick. Then I saw this. It's
called To Die For. And as I was putting it on,
I decided that I shouldn't do what a lipstick
says, because that's stupid. I perch on the edge
of the stool, my robed arm extended around her
shoulders. It is a ghost of a thing to her, but
I think she appreciates the gesture. Then, for
no reason that I can distinguish, I confess.
Before you, I've never spoken to anyone or anything
at all. She gasps in horror. Not a single soul?
If I had a face, I might have grinned, a wry
and unhappy sort of gesture. In my infinite existence,
Georgia Valentine, you are the first mortal who
has ever laid eyes upon me. What about immortal?
I shake my head, the hood of my robes silently
swaying. Never met one. Don't know if there are
any. Fascinating, she says, and she smiles. It
is warm and lovely, framed into dyeful pink.
What's your name? Death? I'm not calling you
that. It's ghastly. How do you feel about Frank?
I have no specific objection to Frank. Excellent.
Well, Frank, do you have somewhere you need to
be? I check my scroll and shrug. Not until you
decide to die. She smiles again and heads for
the door. I'm making cheese on toast. And you're
going to tell me all about yourself. After that,
maybe I'll reconsider that dying thing. Maybe
it's fine, I say, and follow her through a door
that is there. Wasn't that something? Wasn't
it great? Alexis does such a good job there.
She touches on some really important and emotional
topics such as aging and grief and dying and
how a person chooses to die and gets us to examine
them just with the most wonderful little story
about death personified coming to chat to an
old lady. Now that description I've just given
there. does not do it justice but it's something
a really good writer can do where they can take
something nice and simple and within that simple
structure get the reader or in this case the
listener to really really think about stuff and
yeah it's excellent it's a really strong story
and i can see why it won well thank you for joining
us on this episode of one more short story with
me chris fullwell We'll see you next time