Posts Tagged ‘100 word fan fiction’

The monastic cell door creaked as the white gloved hand opened it. Yolanda saw a hooded figure kneeling in prayer before an image of the Divine Mercy, As they entered a voice ancient & weak seeped from his cowl.

“Has the angel of death finally remembered me? I am ready”

“I bring not death friend Anastasius” replied the stranger, “but a penitent seeking absolution.”

The priest turned smiling melting away years, his eyes alight: “It has been many decades since I’ve confessed a hero.” Yolanda watched awestruck as new life seemed to gush into the holy venerable face. “Come child.”


Previously, the answer. Next, a confusing price.

“Lord help me!” Yolanda prayed sobbing. “How I confess my sins if my priest won’t believe what I confess?”

“The answer is obvious Wildcat…” came a voice from behind. She turned to see a man in a black cape & hat, his face hidden in shadow at her bed’s foot “…you need a priest who will.”

“Who are you?” She gasped, “What are you doing here? How do you know who I am?”

“I am but a stranger, I go where I’m needed and few secrets are denied me” He replied offering his hand, “Come let’s answer your prayer.”


Background reference here:

Next an unexpected guest.

100 Word Fan Fiction: A Strange Unease

Posted: August 7, 2020 by datechguy in fun
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Captain Dietrich could not understand his unease. His mission was a complete success.

Every attempt by Troy Moffitt & their men to escape during their trip to the Reich was foiled and as left the camp commandant’s office he could see their faces fall as the Colonel informed them of his unmatched record of success while the senior POW officer looked on resigned.

He had the oddest feeling that behind that frown a mighty laugh was suppressed. “Nonsense” he told himself as the staff car exited Stalag 13 beginning his long trek back to the desert. He was just tired.

Next time Part 2 Listening Without question

“Such poor copies und in wasser too.” The Gestapo man shook his head “An establishment like yours should do better Herr Maverick.”


The elderly gambler smiled “Herr Hess solders come for the gambling & the ladies, not portraits, besides if they were too good Marshall Goering might wisk them away for his collection!”


Hess refilled his glass laughing at the quip. Maverick nodded, displaying a poker face with sixty years of practice, betraying neither knowledge of the German’s mission nor that only a thin layer of watercolor separated Hess from completing his task to recover what Goering had rightfully stolen.