Bandit’s Bridge by The Despot

Tanuki by jokneeappleseed on DeviantArt.com

The bandit Ishikawa wanders to a steep cliff, a prosperous village the other side. He steps onto a rope bridge hovering above the misty abyss.

Halfway across, Tanuki appears, scratching his big tummy and sipping sake.

Ishikawa draws a dagger.

“The village has nothing worth stealing,” says Tanuki, “except this bridge.” He tips his straw hat to the ropes. “They wove this bridge from gold fibers.”

“Trickster!” shouts Ishikawa. “That can’t be.”

Tanuki belches. “See for yourself.”

Ishikawa glances down. The ropes glisten gold.

“The bridge is yours,” says Tanuki.

Leering, Ishikawa’s dagger hacks at the rope, his bandit fortune.

A twang. The rope snaps. The bridge tips, hurling Ishikawa into the abyss.

Tanuki yawns. “Gotta fix the bridge again.”

 

Note: The Despot realizes this story has 120 words, not 100 words. The Despot makes the rules in this realm. The Despot will allow this small infraction, but only this once, for the sake of this story alone.

Royal Seduction by Kimberly Wolski

Seductress by Felox08 on DeviantArt.com

Her green eyes danced with excitement as she knelt half naked in front of the King. She bowed her head but reverted her eyes back to him sheepishly. The King moved closer and put his hands to her head and smiled. Her milky white breasts heaved with anticipation. She could tell by his trousers that the King was ready to submit. She put one hand on his bulge and the King closed his eyes, mouth parting. She plunged the knife into his neck. The sound of the gushing blood pleased her, for she had always loved the Queen.

Last Laugh by Brittany Pomales

Jester by Fearmytofu on DeviantArt.com

The sound of jingling awoke the King from his slumber. He searched around the room and laid eyes on a shadowed figure. It moved closer and his eyes focused on the knife.
“You made me walk on needles. You thought my torture was funny. FUNNY!”
The figure’s painted face contorted as he let out a boisterous laugh and put the knife blade upon the king’s neck. With one swift motion he slit the King’s throat and to the tune of blood gushing and jingling bells he sang “I may have been your jester, but I am no fool.”

The Golden Cup by Jeanelle Nicole Driver

Assassin by jameswolf on DeviantArt.com

He’d followed her for two days.

The lady who’d read his fortune claimed she’d lead him to his destiny.

He’d jumped at the chance. Who wouldn’t love a beautiful woman?

“Stay out of sight, and you’ll find the treasure you seek.”

The warning was absurd. What harm could come from such a delicate creature?

He made his move in the smoky tavern and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“You were warned,” she said.

“I seek a beautiful treasure.”

“You earned a beautiful death!”

Her knife was sharp, his life faded, and she laughed.

“These men never learn.”

Princess Blade by C.J. Cummings

Vengeance by Lithium-Tears on DeviantArt.com

She took the knife, sharp and polished, from her garter. Her eyes glistened in the candlelight, and her hair blew in the breeze from under the door. He slept in his large bed, his snore damp and loud. She smiled. The weapon clenched above her head in her fists came down. His snoring perished. His final grunt. His limp body stiffened under her blade. The Princess looked down at the man who raised her, the man who broke her, and the man who quenched her thirst for vengeance.

Teamwork by Jeanelle Nicole Driver

Knife Kiss by GLeitzke on DeviantArt.com

The dance hall was buzzing. I led the brutes to Maddy, and she took care of the rest.

“She’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

Our current mark laughed.

“Man, she’s way outta your league!”

“You have no idea,” I said.

He pushed past me and brought his fingers to his lips.

I grabbed his shoulders. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“You’re no fun,” he said and whistled.

My lady rushed over, crimson hair streaming. He was dead before he even felt the knife.

“They never listen, do they?”

“Nope.”

Out of the Shadows by Jeanelle Nicole Driver

Madness by Katy-Angel on DeviantArt.com

He wouldn’t control her any longer. She’d had enough.
Yes, she was beautiful and deadly, but that didn’t mean she was someone’s toy.
His head lolled to the side in a drunken stupor.
The hiss of the blade sliding from its sheath didn’t rouse him.
Her face fell until she spied the tumbler on the table.
With a crash she threw it to the floor. He jumped up with a curse.
“How dare you disturb me!” he said.
She cackled with abandon.
“I only wanted you on your feet.”
Her blade ran red with blood.
“I make the rules now.”

Eat, Drink, and Be Bloody by Jeanelle Nicole Driver

War rally by maladies on DeviantArt.com

“Tonight the streets will run with blood.”

It was the 150-year celebration of his organization. It was a beautiful night.

The crowd cheered, and he was pleased.

His organization earned the Gore Award for the fiftieth year in a row.

This year he was determined to top it.

“We shall strike terror in the hearts of all that witness us!”

He unrolled the sacred parchment, and raised his glass in honor.

His minions rushed from the room, each more eager than the last.

He sharpened his knife and joined the festivities with a wicked grin of triumph.

Ticking Down by Jeanelle Nicole Driver

Laugh in the Dark by PriestofTerror on DeviantArt.com

Molly knew this wasn’t a dream, but she prayed for someone to wake her up.

Blood dripped from the rusted table and pooled on the floor.

Blood … Jack’s Blood.

An innocent prank turned deadly, and she was next.

Closing her eyes did nothing. The echoes of Jack’s screams still rang in her mind.

This was all too cliché to be real.

But it was.

“You’re next, my dear,” he said. “I have something special planned for you.”

His manic laughter filled the room.

Molly struggled.

Too late.

Her blood mixed with Jack’s, and the maniac hummed his favorite tune.

Party Boat by Jennifer Kalison

fell down the stairs? by ImSHOE on DeviantArt.com

Look at these people, these happy people … so beautiful, yet so drunk.

The first went down outside the ladies room, my blade smooth along her halter-top’s tan line. So young, she cut like butter.

I left the next looking like a fall, so good to hear the snap of her neck, and the thump of her head on each stair.

The third was older, but quick. She saw my blade; in one glance her eyes revealed a lifetime of anger and frustration. I felt the snap of my wrist, pain in my eye, then a warm trickle, down my cheek.