Fashion Crime: Finish the Story Entry

in #writing3 years ago

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Source:Creative Commons

Some years had passed since the Priest of Durham married The Lady of Berwickshire to her Scottish Prince.

The time drifted along peacefully as he’d settled back in his role with the people.

And so, as he had way back when, he rode his horse to the Durham seashore to watch the waves and pray.

Only far off upon the horizon, he could see a ship rowing toward him. As it got closer he could see the danger and rode away back to the village.

Ulfric Red Beard and his Viking army landed on the shore then moved inland.

The Priest of Durham made it back to the village in time to warn the constable. The constable alerted the local militia. The nobles were notified and scrambled knights on horseback.

When Ulfric Red Beard reached the village he met the English forces defending the town. The Vikings outnumbered them 3 to 1 because of the element of surprise.

Ulfric Red Beard stood seven feet tall, a giant in the 1490s, he walked onto the battlefield, raised his battle axe above his head, and yelled foaming at the mouth:

“I’m going to behead the first Englishman that steps within reach!”

Just then the skies opened and an alien spaceship appeared from nowhere, hovering above them.

The epilogue of these events got lost within the folds of history, due to memories being purposely erased. However, there remains the following one last account of what took place that day.

Just as Ulfric tensed his titanic muscles to charge, he suddenly found himself enveloped in a mysterious green light. A humming sound, gradually increasing in intensity, filled his ears. He found himself pulled neatly off his feet and sucked up into the air. Looking up to see what manner of strange foe had assailed him, he saw that he was being pulled rapidly towards a pulsating emerald light. Powerless to move, he could only watch as he reached the light and was suddenly plunged through a twisting turning tunnel that seemed to be composed of alternating rings of shimmering light and inky blackness. Stars winked at him through the gaps. Suddenly the tunnel collapsed to a single dark point and he found himself strike a solid surface.

He heard screaming all around him and opened his eyes. He was lying on a raised metallic dais. Crowds were all around him, and the air was filled with flashing lights. Burned into the dark sky above him were glowing symbols. Though it was beyond his skill to read them, the gods had surely sent him a sign and he remembered their shape for the rest of his days.

Milan Fashion. Vogue Summer Selection

He had heard tell of this kind of gladiatorial arena, and he leapt to his feet with a piercing battlecry. Close to him was a Spartan warrior, clad only in a loincloth. It seemed he had entered the arena unarmed, an elite warrior seeking a challenge no doubt. Instinct told Ulfric to take advantage of his foe’s surprise. With all his strength he swept his battle-axe in a glittering arc, the edge seeking the Spartan’s tanned neck. The handsome head departed the neck in a spray of blood and spun off into the crowd, a trophy for the lucky maiden who caught it. Strangely the other Spartan clapped his hands to his mouth and gave a womanly scream. His craven head soon met the same fate, this time propelled straight upwards before falling to the ground with a thud. Splattered with blood Ulfric threw back his head in a bellow of triumph. All around him the crowd was surging away from the dais on which Ulfric stood, screams filling the air, tripping over each other in their haste. Suddenly from behind him he heard a clap of thunder.

Two men in soft blue garments were pointing small black clubs at him. Two more retorts rang out, and he felt a mighty blow strike his right shoulder. Gathering his remaining strength he charged forward and bought his axe down on the helmet of the soldier. His eyes widened in surprise as his axe easily cleft through the helmet and head beneath it. The gods clad their soldiers in soft silks! Extracting his axe from the rib cage that held it he turned to see the remaining soldier aiming the lightning rod at his chest. Just as the shot rang out the green light surrounded him again and the world went black.

When he regained consciousness he felt the sand beneath his knees once again. Rising to his feet he strode towards the burning village. He had a story to tell.

This story is written in response to this finish the story contest by @f3nix

Special thanks: @cyemela for the great prompt.

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Word. That was awesome.

I was going to write a touching historical drama, but then I drunk a few beers...

Trust me, Milan Fashion Week has never been so exciting!

😂😂😂

I am honoured to have Mugatu appear in my story

Bwahaha, priceless, I mean it! For a moment I thought he was going to be another Cornelius.
Mm those muscled blood-soaked vikings..
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Mugatu ftw! 😂

I like it that Mugatu made it into this thread. I can imagine him running around with a battleaxe

Great job. Thanks for entering.

Hey bud! I saw just now your contribution.. I'm in awe for your generosity. Feel free to suggest me how to manage the donation, for now I think that it will help to maintain this 4 SBI shares setup of the pot. A small note: I'm planning to evolve the contest in a project, next step would be to create a mini discord chat where we can share our stories and interact. Asap I've the link i'll send it to you :-) Thanks again and keep rockin with us!

Putting it towards the 4 SBI shares sounds good. I think providing the prize money should be more of a community effort, instead of you putting it up each time. Would be great to see the mighty bananafish on Discord!

I agree, that's the direction as I'd like this to be our space.. are kiwis all cool like you? Invite them to the contest! 😎✌️

Week #18 slowly stepped out from the shadows.. Godspeed, brave storyteller!