Welcome to the Sholan Alliance Fan Fiction pages.
This page is for Fan Fiction. Stories need not necessarily be about the Sholan Universe, but should have some connection to it or the fan club.
Here is our fist story - now who's going to e-mail me, N'Ish, for the Submission rules for Sholan FanFic? We need a few rules to not only protect our younger readers but also Lisanne. They will be posted here shortly.
This was written at 2Kon by Lynn, one of Lisanne's and my friend's, and is actually a Con Report. From it you will guess that the air conditioning left a lot to be desired by all of us!
By Lynn M. Cochrane
"Do you think they enjoyed it?" Maria piled the last of the clean towels onto her trolley as she spoke.
Ella rocked her hand, indicating uncertainty.
"Tony says they drank enough." Maria moved to the door of the linen store prior to going back into the hotel corridor.
"Drank?" asked Ella. "Ed was surprised we didn't need ambulances - by the fleet! We'd got in extra barrels - about a lorry load - and trebled the normal spirits order but they just didn't stop."
"Go on." Maria stopped with her hand on the door handle.
"The bar ran out in the end - of everything. Even the junk you'd usually call socks-rot."
"Ugh!" Maria's face suggested a foul taste in her mouth.
"But I wouldn't have called any of them drunk. No fights or anything, Ed says, just lots of singing and people enjoying themselves. He had fun with the one lot. Forgot to put the lemon slice in a coke and when the woman brought it back he put a whole lemon in as a joke. It didn't fit the glass, of course. Looked like a short post with a knob on top, he says. Great fun!"
"Well, that's what they came for, isn't it? Good fun and show off all the weird get-ups. I mean, you don't expect a Klingon and a Jedi to be wandering down to breakfast and sharing a table."
"Sharing a table?" Ella looked surprised.
"That's what I saw yesterday morning when I went to get some more cleaning fluid from the store. And at another table there was a Georgian gentleman deep in discussion with a Cavalier. Mind you, either one of those pairs was easier to accept than the large rat I saw the day before - six foot six, wearing jeans and a sweat-shirt and carrying a pint!" Maria posed for a moment as if she was the character she was describing.
"Oh, him!" said Ella. "Ed says he's called Grey Wolf. Nice enough bloke outside of the fur. Bought lots of rounds Friday and Saturday but he hasn't seen him since."
"Gone home, I expect," said Maria.
She opened the door. Heat blasted in from the corridor. "Thermostat's gone again," she said.
"Too cold last week, too hot this," said Ella. She checked her trolley. "Come on, we'd better get started.
Together, they went to 222, the furthest room, almost in the area cleaned by the next team. Maria knocked on the door, slipped the key in and opened it wide when there was no response.
Glass eyes gazed at her from a collapsed grey-fur face. Two figures lay hunched in the beds. A new wave of heat hit Ella as Maria said "Sorry," and came back into the corridor, closing the door behind her.
"Grey Wolf's still asleep," said Maria. "We'll come back later."
It was a busy shift. Maria and Ella had their work cut out to clean and service every room on their section. They had five minutes to spare before the end of their shift when they went back to 222. This time it was Ella who knocked, walked in, apologised and walked out, fanning herself.
"Is it needed tonight?" she asked.
Maria consulted her list and then shook her head.
"Then I'm going to suggest we leave it and give it a good going over tomorrow."
"Good move," said Maria.
"They're still in bed, would you believe?"
"I think I would be if I'd been to a weekend long party," said Maria as she started back up the corridor.
222 was the last room they tackled the next day.
Maria unlocked the door and marched boldly in, chatting over her shoulder to Ella. It was Ella who screamed. Maria turned sharply and saw the glass eyes gazing at her from the same place as the day before. She looked at the beds. Two hunched figures lay there, not moving.
"Trouble," she said, backing out quickly and closing the door. "Let's get management."
Julie arrived in response to Maria's phone call from the next room. She listened carefully before opening the door and going in. Maria and Ella stood outside, sharply aware, now, of a foul smell and oppressive heat from the open door.
"Get the police," they heard Julie say. "We've got a couple of mummies here."
There was a pause.
"No, no ambulances," said Julie. "It's too late for that - unless you think dried bodies can be rehydrated and brought back to life."