Hugh J. O'Donnell

The sorceress dismounted from her giant golem and examined the hillside. Pink and purple blossoms carpeted the grass. A warm breeze sent them dancing through the air with a sweet scent. She sighed contentedly.
Her brief reverie was interrupted by earth-shaking footsteps. The approaching construct wasn’t as large as her’s, but made up for it by being covered in jagged spikes. She watched as it trampled a particularly fine blossom.
“Sorceress Miwako!” The rider called. “I challenge you!”
She grimaced, and with a complex gesture, dismissed the boy’s golem out from under him.
“Not here,” she admonished as he fell.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

Rule one: Never look down.
There was much of anything to see, just pink clouds piling out to the horizon.
Rule Two: Secure your lines.
She checked both safety lines and the lockdown on the cargo. All good.
Rule Three: Watch out for your neighbors.
She raised her signaler and flashed out a message. Two quick acknowledgments came back, confirming all’s well. Satisfied, the pilot started the hover engine and signaled her departure. It was a long way to the next Pylon, and the winds above Venus were fair. She raised sail and kicked her little boat into the sky.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

The ghost hunters moved cautiously through the abandoned house. They went past the grimy kitchen and dusty family room and up the stairs.
The group split up in the hallway, and he found himself alone in a child’s bedroom. A TV and vintage game console sat by the bed, and discarded medication bottles stood in a row on the dresser. Suddenly, his equipment went wild. The door slammed.
“What do you want?” He asked.
The television turned itself on. He understood, and started a 2-player game.
Sometimes the vengeful spirit wasn’t in the house. Sometimes, it was in another castle.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

She’d always hated the architect, but he was a genius, and she wanted a house that was as fashionable as she was, so she gave him free rein when he designed her house.
It didn’t matter to her that the inbuilt furniture was uncomfortable and that his ludicrous open-air fireplace was a safety hazard. She grumbled and put up with his quirks and theories to be the toast of the architecture world.
She sold the house when the market crashed, confident that at least her name would remain attached to the site.
The developers tore it down to build apartments.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

The runaway horse charged through the woods. The thunder of hooves and the shouts of the helpless rider drew the bandits’ attention. They might not have gotten involved had they not seen the fine fabrics that covered the saddle or spotted the gold fastenings on the bridle. The rider was a young woman, and she was dressed as richly as the horse.
They quickly stopped the horse, and brought her before their leader.
But they had missed the sword that she had hidden in the lace and ruffles of her gown. The princess gripped the hilt and took her chance.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

“What is it?” I asked, staring at the oddly shaped machine on my desk.
“It’s a bird,” the engineer said. “Birds would construct intricate nests. They were builders. I trained a low-powered AI to emulate that instinct. If my calculations are correct, they could assemble the lunar colony at a fraction of current costs.”
“And they won’t build random junk?”
“I’ve modeled the data, ma’am. It’s very promising.“
We went ahead with the project. Just as predicted, the bird-bots built the structures under budget and ahead of schedule. But we hadn’t accounted for the birds’ instinct to defend the nest.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

“I told you,” The old man said as the giant lumbered towards him. The knights formed ranks and raised their spears. Their elder, who was not wielding a weapon, tried to goad them into a charge. But nobody wanted to go first.
The towering monster stood sixty feet tall, with a rocky, lumpy body. Instead of a face, it had a single glowing rune. The giant stopped about ten of its paces in front of the cadre of knights. Its posture was not so much ferocious as annoyed.
“Hey,” it grumbled. “Which of you jerks keeps busting up my windmills?”

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

The nomads came across vast ruins built of stone and red rust on an island far out to sea. They argued over who had left them, for there were no living inhabitants, and their Storyteller had no legends to explain them.
The fishing was good, and the ruins made excellent shelter, so they stayed on for a season.
One day, a group of children came across a stone with words carved into it while exploring. They fetched the Storyteller, and while she could read the script, their meaning eluded her. She did not recognize them.
“NEW YORK CITY PUBLIC LIBRARY”

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!