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I have been away for quite a while, just taking a break from a LOT of things. Instead of getting into more fan fiction, I have focused on writing some original pieces. To encourage my own writing, I created a forum for LGBTQ writers to get prompts, write and share their works. It's called The Queer Storyteller's Collective (, and I'll post more about it later. Hopefully, these are works that can be expanded on into full stories at some point. I thought I'd share though and see what others thought of them. So, here goes:

Death Be Kind
By Callie Wise

Prompt: Hero falls under Martyr’s spell

Death should come swift for people like her. If for no other reason, than for people like me to be put out of our misery faster as we watch them fall.

She was reckless and dangerous, with her wild eyes and even wilder blonde hair that she always wore down in a chaotic mass of curls. The feel of my fingers tangled in those curls is one of the earliest memories I have of her – the sleep over when we were thirteen that changed the course of our lives forever. The blonde hair that went flying out as the sword thrust through her chest propelled her forward into my arms, one of my hands automatically tangling in those curls again.

We didn’t know yet that our destinies were wrapped up in each other, that Fate had predetermined our beginning, middle, and now end.

Even heroes need someone to look up to, and that’s what she was to me.

“Let her go!” She screamed in the face of the enemy commander, who had me on my knees with a death grip on my throat.

I looked up at her with pained tears in my eyes. “Bre, please.”

Only a brief hesitation told me she heard me, but she gritted her teeth, never taking her eyes from the beast towering over both of us. “Take me,” she commanded. “She’s just a soldier, but I’m a scientist. I can help you. You need me more than her.”

The beast, that’s all these former men could be called now, tilted its head in consideration of Bre’s offer.

“No,” I whimpered, shaking my head, as an evil smile grew on his face. “No!”

His black eyes suddenly turned on me, and I began choking as he lifted me in the air. I could hear Bre’s muffled cries as she pleaded for my life. The rush of oxygen as I was dropped was powerful enough to make me nearly pass out. I coughed and gasped even as I sought out Bre’s location.

I heard her scream and I spun around on my knees. Her arms and feet had been spread wide, invisibly held by alien restraints. The commander stood behind her laughing as I stared in fear, his gnarled fingers reaching around to stroke her cheek in a twistedly, tender way.

She jerked in her restraints making him laugh more. He leaned forward, ensuring he had my attention. “I’m going to have fun with this one. I have a feeling she’s quite feisty. Am I right, Commander Jenkins?”

The move was suicide. I knew it as soon as I did it, but the thought of that…thing having my Bre at his mercy was torture. I’d rather be dead than endure what my imagination was conjuring up. Things probably more tame than reality.

But I didn’t get far. A blinding jolt to the back of my head and all I could do was moan in a semi-conscious state, the last image in my head of Bre being dragged away screaming.

For two years, I was on a mission to get Bre back in my arms.

This was not how I thought it would be – blood spluttering from her mouth as she struggled for air. The familiarity of her body a sick juxtaposition to the stench of death that weave around us.

I couldn’t stop the sob that broke through even as I tried to hold myself together for her sake. “Not like this.”

In spite of her obvious pain, she smiled up at me, a peace radiating from her eyes. “This is the only place I ever wanted to be, Stef. In your arms. If I was to die, I wanted it to be just like this.”

I shook my head. “No, you can’t leave me. No.”

She reached up, the back of her fingers ghosting over my face. “It had to be this way. Now it’s your turn to play the role Fate gave you.”

I shook with the despair of feeling my heart torn apart. The truth of her words didn’t ease the pain. I pulled her close, whispering in her ear, “I love you. I always have, and I always will.”

Her hand tangled shakily in my hair, causing me to pull back slightly, her eyes surprisingly bright and clear considering the circumstances. “As have I,” she murmured, her blood-tinged lips hovering near mine. “That’s why I can let go now. I love you, Stef.”

She kissed me then, softly as old lover, one content with her life and love. I felt her last breath on my lips as her body went limp in my arms. I waited for her to take a breath again, like she did after we made love, exhausted and spent. But she didn’t. I closed my eyes and held her. I have no idea how long.

Sabrina Rodriquez’s battle was over, but the war for me was just beginning. Her death wouldn’t pass without consequence.
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