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chuck wendig’s Flash Fiction Challenge: 200 words of a story.

http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2013/11/22/flash-fiction-challenge-200-words-at-a-time-part-one/

So here we go…

Jacob  stood alone on the fog covered dock. A spectral figure wreathed in frost and ice crystal.
The glock hung loosely at his side with the apathy of sleep deprivation.

A beam of light lanced through the fog and somewhere far off a fog horn belched.

He waited.

His fingers were numb on the grip and his exposed skin was cold and clammy.

He waited some more.

Then he heard it, the slow stutter of hooves clacked across the dock; Each step loud and surreal in the opaque air.

CLACK-CLACK.

He shivered.

Jacob told himself it was only the chill of the fog, but he knew better.

He saw the eyes first.

Red as rage and hot as a furnace.

One step after another.

CLACK-CLACK.

He ran his tongue over his ragged lips and croaked out a greeting.

“h-here.”

His voice sounded like a lost child.

Afraid, alone and desperately wanting to be elsewhere.

The terrible eyes moved forward in their unrelenting pace.

CLACK-CLACK.

It ripped through the fog, its two cloven hooves leaving a scorch marked trail.

His teeth chattered .

It came to a sudden halt, its black armor clanking like a death toll.

It gave a serrated grin.

 
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Posted by on November 25, 2013 in Flash Fiction Challenges

 

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Information of a vital nature

A new flash fiction challenge from Chuck Wendig.
http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2012/07/27/flash-fiction-challenge-antagprotag/
Half Protagonist, half Antagonist equals Tagnominist! wait…no. just…no.
half the story as Protag, the other half as Antag. 1000 words.

my protag is kind of a prick. my antag is a bigger prick. just fair forewarning.

anyhoo, comments,suggestion or criticisms are all welcome.

I pull the gun from its holster and hold it loosely at my side. The tall guy stops and his smirk drains away. Loudmouth behind him doesn’t see it.
I should probably wave it around at arms length like in the movies, they might get the picture.  Fatty starts to speak, but a look from me shuts him up quick.
The Loudmouth steps forward and brandishes a knife threateningly. The stupid bastard hasn’t noticed the gun at my side. Wonderful. Loudmouth grins at me. I grin back and aim from my hip.  He sees it and continues to grin. Fatty’s grinning now too.shit, behind me-
I’m dropped like a sack of bricks.  Whoever hit me, he’s a big sumbitch. I black out long enough to lose the gun and have my hands tied with a dirty rope.
What a wonderful turn of events. dirty sack over the head and a shitty ride to the ass-end of nowhere. Great, I’m about to be executed and I haven’t even had my goddamn coffee yet.
fuck it. it’s already noon. it’s probably for the best if they just pop me now.

I’m shoved to my knees and they pull the moldy sack off my head to reveal a Junkyard and the three stooges standing there grinning like the cat who just ate the fuckin’ condor.
Next to them is what I thought a sexy water buffalo might look like,but water buffaloes don’t cross their arms. or have bright orange highlights. jeezus this is the biggest chick I’ve ever seen.  Could probably bench press me without breaking a sweat. My gaze flicks to the front of her jeans. nothin’ pokin’ out, but she could be a tucker.
Then some white suited dandy motherfucker comes sauntering up. Fedora,cane the works. Jeezus Fuckin’ Hell. Did I just get dragged into a bad gangster film?
“so, you here to whack me?” I ask in my best Cagney. Which is awful by the way. I’m ready to give my Bogey a try when he takes his hat off and looks at me.
Those eyes. He’s a killer. Not like the stooges or she-hulk over there. This guy enjoys the act of taking life. I shut up real quick. A man like this doesn’t fuck around.
He’s here for a reason. I’m not dead ’cause he needs something. I may get a bullet in the head yet, but I’ve a hunch being cooperative may buy me a few seconds.
He holds the hat in his hand gingerly as if holding a new born kitten then squats down next to me just like we’re buddy buddies. the best of fuckin’ friends.
“tell me Allard. Do you understand who I am?” He whispers.
I give nod. Fuckin psycho? Check.  Works for the guy I pissed off? Checkarooni.
He nods slightly. Approval ghosts across his face.
” Good. where is she?”

I Examine the unlucky PI. His eyes flickering back and forth. Good.
Even battered and bound, he’s weighing his options. Excellent. No wisecracks, No false machismo. We understand each other implicitly. If the would-be detective wants to live he will give up the location of the woman.
Allard clears his throat. ” Theresa , right? she’s back at her apartment.”
I sigh. I should have known better.
“Mr. Allard, that is a lie. We set fire to her apartment an hour ago. Where is the woman?”
He shakes his head. “you’re right. I’m just a little rattled. y’know  bein’ tossed around by your pet ogre and the three amigos over there.”
I give him my best look of sympathy
“The woman, Mr Allard.”
“yeah, right. she’s at my place.”
He’s digging himself deeper. He knows it. I know it.
I can see the fear in his eyes. He knows how this will end.
I retrieve my favorite scalpel from my inside pocket and hold it up between us so he can inspect it.
It’s beautiful. A sliver of perfection. The distillation of hideous intent.
The despair on his face makes all of this worth it.
His pride will break. the question being, will his body give out before his mind does?
” I hate to have to do this Allard-”
” fuck you! you fuckin’ psycho, you get off on shit like-” Beatrice ends his tirade with a left hook.
I continue. ” As I was saying: I hate to have to do this while wearing my favorite suit, But I fear these things cannot be helped.”
I hand my coat to Beatrice and begin undoing my victim’s shirt.
“oh jesus god, please no.” Allard pleads through bloody teeth.
I look him in the eye.
“there is no god here today.” I place the flat of the scalpel on his cheek. “just me.”
A heartbeat passes like a glacier.
He slumps. “fine, I’ll talk.”
I am very disappointed, but I hide it.
“very good Mr. Allard.”
I force a smile. friendly,easy going.
“Where is Theresa, Mr. Allard?”
“Close.”
My irritation smolders like a oil soaked rag in the sun. I slide the blade across his eyelid.
His scream is exquisite.
” I apologize Mr. Allard. I was under the impression that you would tell me where she is.”
” Know how I met her?”.
“Do tell, Mr. Allard. How?” I draw across his hairline with the edge.
He’s hyperventilating now, his words bubbling and bloody.
“I met her in the corps!” Blood washes down his face.
“is that so?” I position the blade in the crook of his ear.
“peace corps?” I ask politely
The barest hint of pressure causes blood to well up.
He shudders, but continues through gritted teeth.
“n-not peace. Marine Corps.”
“and what exactly did she do in the Corps?”
His grimace turns to a ghastly smile.
The sound of a watermelon being hit with a sledgehammer makes me turn in time to see the nearly headless Beatrice fall to the ground surrounded by the vestige of her cerebellum.
He looks at me with his good eye.
“First Recon Sniper.”

 
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Posted by on August 1, 2012 in Flash Fiction Challenges

 

The Rapscallion

 

My first real entry into the flash fiction challenge.

Challenge:Travel.  1000 words.

the things that make a journey memorable are often the things that interrupt it.

***

The queen stares at me. I stare back and light my cigarette. she jabbers something and makes a gesture with her dagger. I wag my finger.
“none of that now.”
I smack the dagger out of her hand and shove her to the floor. I point at her to stay put, and do a quick once over of the joint. Not much jewelry and the place stank to high heaven. after about five minutes I come up with a gold crown,necklaces and an assortment of shiny baubles. Not much, but it’d have to do.
I hear a rustle of silk as the queen gets back to her feet. I drop the loot into my bag and pull up my sleeve. I turn as she rushes me. With the same damn dagger no less. I should’ve picked it up. She yells and lunges just as I push the button on my Watch. A flash of sparks and I’m gone.New dimension, new opportunities, new loot. Pain flares up from my leg. I look to find a tiny gash in my thigh. She had gotten a little too close for comfort.

I look about. Imperial America?  Hope they speak English in this one. I take a stroll. Turning a corner I see an androgynous human in a white spandex suit talking to a hologram;looking up I see cars whizzing through the air. Crap, high-tech civilization; they’re always a danger. If they notice me here, they can probably figure out how my dimension hopping doohickey works. I prefer not to give my targets that much of an edge. I start to hit the button again, when I hear a scream. Two brutish thug types are pulling a neon haired woman into a building. a quick glance tells me ‘Spandex either hasn’t heard or is just ignoring it. damn it. I look at my Watch, I’ve got an hour of run time.
“ah,hell.”
I rush towards the building just as the steel door begins to slide closed; I give it a burst of speed and leap through the closing gap. I tumble to a stop and pull myself to my feet.The screaming has suddenly stopped.        I look up to find the woman and the two thugs now both staring at me. The bearded one snarls and his cyborg-eyed companion grins. The women pulls out some sort of pistol. Unfortunately, I’m the intended target.
“Wording Grotzin.”
The oldest trap in the dimensions. and I fall for it hook,line and sinker. or hook,line and sucker?.
“damn. if I ain’t the stupidest bastard here”
“you’s gitten creddy’s?” She screeches.
“well, second stupidest.”
Cyborg-Eye pulls my backpack off and rifles through. He turns the bag upside down and my lovely gold spills across the floor.
“e’s jus’ baggin geek stuff.”
I look at her and slowly edge my hand for the button on my watch.
“your local dialect sounds like a rusty razor blade covered in shit.”
“wot’s wit’ ‘is tokken?”
Neon-Hair, presses the gun against my temple.
“yous tink yous tuff? I’z grinda yous rite ‘ere”
The bearded thug grabs my wrist and pulls the Watch off, the strap breaks. I grab for it and Cyborg-Eye slaps me with the gentle touch of a falling mountain. my head rocks back. the world spins and I become better acquainted with the floor. A brief second later as consciousness returns, I look up to see Neon Hair pushing random buttons on the watch. Cyborg Eye has wrapped some sort of wire around my wrists. Neon-Hair jabs a button and blue sparks flash around her and she disappears. Both meat-heads cry out in alarm. Cyborg-Eye grabs my collar and pulls me into the air.
“WHERE SHE AT!?”
my feet dangle above the concrete and for the briefest second I think I can can take him. thankfully that second passes.
“She’s probably in some sort of ecclesiastical orgy temple. or something.”
“WOT?”
As I begin thinking up my next smart ass remark that may get me beaten into a fine red paste, Neon shows up again in an underwhelming splash of light. She’s bloody,bruised and there seems to be a small reptilian creature hanging from her hand by its teeth. She shrieks and waves her arms around wildly, trying to throw the tiny carnivore across the room.
Little bugger just clung there, waving back and forth like a tiny green flag.                                                            I burst out laughing. Cyborg drops me and runs to help his companion. Beardy stands indecisively between us. He’s torn on whether to beat my laughing ass or help his glitzy headed strumpet. Lucky for me he chooses the girl. The two gather around their sobbing hussy trying to strangle the scaled terror into submission.
I stop laughing and take a deep breath.
“Activate Voice Protocol Alphonse-Tartarus!”
The trio of reprobates look up at me simultaneously just before they disappear in a burst of blue sparks. minutes pass.
I wait for an eternity. then a dim flicker and the Watch clatters to the floor. sans passengers.
I slice the wire with my pocket knife and reclaim both my gold and my watch.
Never again.No more helping. Doesn’t matter if they’re drowning. I won’t even bother to piss on ’em. not my dimension not my problem. simple as that.
I reprogram new parameters. less deadly this time.
I curse at the empty building and hit the button.
“the hell with this place.”
The sparks fly and a rush of overwhelming heat hits me. The air is choking and my vision clears to a massive apartment building on fire, people look on as the flames roar towards the heavens. Then comes a noise.
“-My daughter! Please, someone!”
Nope.
I reach for the button again. my finger stops. I glance at the crowd.No one moves.                                               No one speaks.                                                                                                                                                        They just stare.                                                                                                                                                      The mother sobs.
“ah,hell.”
I drop my bag and sprint towards the inferno.

 

 
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Posted by on April 22, 2012 in Flash Fiction Challenges

 

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