Flash Fiction Fridays: Choices

Dasara stared at the cliff edge then glanced back at the stony-faced man behind her. His focus remained unflinching. She swallowed back tears. ” Don’t make me choose, Domarius.”

He crossed his arms. “Your choice was made very clear, Ara. You didn’t want to be mine even though you made a vow. And those who betray the Society, betray me, only have one place to go. Ten feet under.” His lips curved into a tight, pained smile. “Be glad I see my wife differently than one of my men. They’d already be dead. You get a choice instead.”

She swallowed. She could take it back, say she didn’t know what she’d been thinking. That was true enough. She hadn’t been thinking clearly since she agreed to join the Society and then married their leader after a charming but short courtship.

Now here she was, faced with the horror of where her choice had led. To a cliff’s edge where, whether she jumped or not, she would be dead. If not on the rocks at the bottom of the literal cliff, then on the rocks of the cliff of insanity under her husband’s stifling watch.

She didn’t want it this way. Leaving had seemed the only way out because he didn’t listen. Well, maybe he did. She’d never tried, and right now seemed like a good time to try seeing if he would. What did she have to lose? “Dom…” She turned to face him. “Can we talk this out, please? I made a mistake, I know, and I’m sorry.”

“You realize that now, do you? Did you think I’d see your attempt to leave me with no warning as anything less than betrayal?” Hurt flashed on his face. “Has it been so miserable?”

“Not at first.” Her shoulders slumped. “But no one can live in a cage by unspoken rules forever no matter how gilded the cage. And so I’m suffocating in the cage you’ve built. Maybe the cliff really is my best option.” She glanced at the yawning chasm. “Running didn’t have to permanent. I didn’t want permanent, and so I thought…”

“You thought?” He shook his head. “Not about the impact of your decision, clearly. If you had, you would’ve known better. You would’ve talked to me instead of shutting me out, and you would’ve known I’d have to punish you if you ran.” He pointed to the cliff. “So you have a choice. Come home to talk it out and decide on a way to save both of our reputations. Or die as any other traitor would.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at him with tear-blurred eyes. He would never admit that he wanted her to choose him over suicide, but she knew him well enough to read the plea he’d never make out loud with his second-in-command watching from a distance. The plea he might not even make aloud if they were alone. She swiped away tears and sucked in a slow breath. “We can talk it out at home? You’ll listen? Be reasonable?”

“Yes. We always could have done that, you know.” His expression softened, but his posture remained tense. “You’re my wife, not one of my men. You have that privilege. I’m always willing to hear you out. Just because I give the orders and I’m in charge doesn’t mean your opinion is meaningless or can’t sway mine. But you didn’t even try. You never came to me at all.”

She winced, cheeks burning. No, she hadn’t. She’d assumed based on how he treated his men that he would be unapproachable. “I’m sorry, Dom.” She hung her head and stepped away from the cliff edge. “This was all a terrible mistake. I… I do want to go home. Take me back? Please?”

He strode to her and wrapped her in his arms. “You talk to me when you have a problem with something, you hear? I’ll listen. I promise.”

She nodded.

He squeezed her closer. “I need you to say it. Say you will. Promise me.”

“I promise,” she whispered.

He pressed her head to his chest with a sigh, the weight of his hand on the back of her neck a reassurance now not a silent warning or command. Then again, maybe this gesture of his had never been either of those to start. She didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. Her own assumptions had blinded her, and who knew what else she’d gotten wrong?

“I still have to do something to clean this up,” he murmured.

She tensed. Would he punish her? Past transgressions had required it, so this one would too, probably. She shivered. Punishments when he was truly upset were never fun. True, she always knew when she’d stepped out of line and felt better later like the punishment had wiped the slate clean for them to start over, but they also made her feel sad. She wanted them to discuss what things deserved that and what things didn’t. She could only imagine what he might do to make sure that the secret of her flight was kept.

As if he knew her thoughts, he said, ” But I think today was punishment enough. I’ll tell everyone you were going through some severe depression and weren’t thinking straight. I didn’t know how bad it was until too late, but you’re on meds and are seeing a therapist to address your recent attempt to run away and throw yourself off the cliff. Thankfully, I found you just in time, and for now, you’re staying at home to recover.”

“Elaborate.”

He snorted. “Close enough to the truth to be believable.”

She laughed and pressed a palm over his chest where his heart raced. How scared was he that she would jump? He cared far more than she’d guessed. Her chest tightened. “I really am sorry for hurting you. For running instead of talking to you.”

He threaded his fingers through her hair and sighed. “I know. Now, let’s get you home.”

Flash Fiction Fridays: Weaponized Rain

Lightning

My sister gave me this idea for a flash fiction piece while we were sitting in the coffee shop last week. She told me to write a piece about a character who finds out a terrorist group figured out how to weaponize rain. So, here we go!

~~~

Raya stared at the screen and the data flashing across it. She closed the report and ran it again. How? How had the ITO managed this? Weaponizing rain itself, or, actually, anything in a specified zone? She hit the print button and rushed to snatch it off the printer.

She barged into her boss’s office, ignoring how rude it was. She’d apologize later, and he’d want to know this now. Besides, he’d cut her some slack given how polite she usually was. He paused in mid-sentence on the phone and raise a brow.

“Sorry, sir. But you have to see this.”

He nodded and sighed. “Sorry, Pat. I’ll have to call you back. If I don’t get back to you about it by end of the business day, shoot me an email. I’ll respond when I get home. Yes. Exactly. Thank you. Bye.” He set the phone aside and pursed his lips. “Raya…”

“It’s important! I promise.” She hurried over and set the reports down on his desk. “You know how you set me on monitoring ITO?”

He began rifling through the papers with a frown. “Yeah?”

“Well, they made their move, and it’s worse than we thought. The intel indicates they found a way to remove air resistance from specific areas with some sort of machine. They’re going to weaponize rain according to the files we stole and decrypted.”

“Let’s pretend I don’t have a Ph.D in physics and I hired you to break things down for the non-scientifically minded individuals like me.” He smiled. “Explain to me how someone weaponizes rain.”

“If you remove air resistance, sir, then rain will just keep gaining speed as it falls through the atmosphere. When it hits, it’s going to have an insane amount of velocity on it. The speed at which that water droplet hits will make it like a bullet in whatever it hits, but there won’t be any trace of the weapon once it hits.”

His mouth opened and closed as he searched for a response.

“So, sir, I think this justifies barging in?”

He swallowed and nodded. “I… It more than justifies it. I’ll get the higher ups on the phone. You can just go back to monitoring and keeping an eye on things for now. I’ll have someone go get you if I need you.”

She nodded and turned to leave.

“Thank you, Raya. You may have saved us all by finding this now.”

“I doubt that. We don’t have much time. I’ll be at my desk if you need anything.” She hurried out the door, her heart thumping wildly. They had to stop this. If they didn’t, the results would be disastrous. Life and death were the currency they were now paying down in any bet they made in the attempt to stop this weapon. She just prayed it wouldn’t backfire on them.

Flash Fiction Friday: Different than You Remembered

This week’s flash fiction is based on my most recent writing prompt on Pinterest. It was pretty popular over there, so I thought I’d write my spin on the story. To set the stage, the prompt is the featured picture for this post, and if you guys want to see more like it, you can check out my writing prompts board on Pinterest. There’s a little bit of everything over there, pretty much!

~~~

The girls hurried along the sidewalk past the alleys and storefronts. Jen listened to the chatter, but her mind wasn’t on it. Anna and Rianna didn’t seem to notice since they just kept talking. The streets became more and more familiar as they got closer to the restaurant, and she shivered. She pulled her cloak closer with a sigh. Last time she’d been here, she’d almost ended up being the victim of some guy looking for a little more than just a wad of cash, though he’d taken the cash and run in the end. The man who’d scared him off before he could truly do her any harm still lingered in the back of her mind.

Well, maybe man wasn’t quite the right word. He’d been young, and he certainly hadn’t seemed human. She wasn’t sure exactly what had scared the other guy off since she hadn’t actually seen her savior until after her attacker had gone, but for someone who was practically a boy to scare of an armed, grown man? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Earth to Jen!” Anna waved a hand in front of her face. “You’re, like, a million miles away, girl. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

She winced. Anna didn’t know. Neither of the girls did. They hadn’t known her back then, and she’d agreed to come here because she wanted to move on. In fact, she’d been the one to suggest this location. “Sorry, guys. I’m just… My head’s somewhere else, is all. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here. Brings back memories, I guess.”

“Ooo… Memories. What kind?” Rianna grinned. “You have a fling with some really hot guy here?”

“She doesn’t do that kind of thing, Ri.” Anna scowled at their bubbly friend. “You’re the incorrigible flirt, remember? The rest of us aren’t guy crazy, and you’re well aware how Jen feels about guys.”

“Look, it’s not important. The memories aren’t that kind of memory, Ri.” Jen hugged herself and scuffed a shoe along the sidewalk. The street sign up ahead read Elmswood. She’d been attacked there and dragged into the alley in the dark. Was it really a good idea to come here? It was dark now. Would they be attacked like she had been all that time ago?

“Jeez, Jen. I’m sorry…” Ri cleared her throat. “That bad?”

She shrugged. “I’m fine. Really. Let’s just get to the restaurant and have a good time, okay?”

Anna linked her arm through Jen’s with a smile. “We’re going to make sure you have the night of your life, okay? You’ll have new, better memories of this place after tonight.”

A siren wailed nearby, cutting off her remark. People streaming past paused to watch the cop car rush past, followed by an ambulance. Someone slammed into her from the right, and she sucked in a breath to snap at them just as the stranger stopped and put a steadying hand on her arm. “Sorry. So sorry. Are you okay?”

She frowned and lifted her head to gaze up at the tall stranger. Dressed all in black, the man cut an imposing figure. But she recognized him immediately. The boyishness was gone, and whatever gentleness had lurked in his dark gaze back then had also fled to be replaced with sharp observation and a sly twinkle. He raised a brow at her, a glint of recognition lighting in his deep blue eyes. “Jen Ashton?”

She swallowed past a now dry throat. “D-do I know you?”

A smile lit up his face. “Maybe not. You might not remember.”

“Jen, who is this weirdo?” Anna tugged at her arm. “Just tell him to shove off and let’s go eat.”

Tall-dark-and-mysterious frowned. “Do you always address everyone so disrespectfully? One of these days, it might come back to haunt you. You never know who you’re speaking to.”

Ri laughed in that bubbly, light-hearted way she always did. “Are you the President or something? Because if not, I’m not that worried. If Jen won’t tell you to shove off, then I’ll tell you–“

Why did Ri just cut off? Unlike her. Jen frowned and turned to look at her friend. Ri stood frozen in mid-sentence, her mouth open, and everyone around them had frozen too. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, and she stared until strong, warm fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her out of her daze.

“Now… With them temporarily indisposed, where were we?” His grin faded. “I know you remember me.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I… Yeah, I do. I never got the chance to thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet, darling.” He gave her a wry grin. “I’m not here to catch up, and I didn’t bump into you by accident. You’re coming with me.”

She tugged her wrist out of his grip. “No, I’m not! Unfreeze my friends and leave us alone. Otherwise I’ll call the cops.”

“They won’t come. The whole city’s suspended in this state, and no one will get to you soon enough.” He crossed his arms. “You are coming with me. I need your help, and unfortunately, I don’t have time for the nice way. I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But this is how it has to be.” He reached out and smoothed her hair out of her face.

A cool tingling spread over her forehead, and the world around her spun then tilted crazily. Everything went black, and she lost her balance, dizziness washing over her. His arms wrapped around her, and a feeling of calm and safety swept her off into oblivion before she had time to register just how terrified she should’ve felt.

~~~

What do you think happens to her? Why does he need her? Well, I’ll let you guys go wild coming up with your own endings. But that’s it for this week! I hope you guys enjoyed this, and I’ll see you next week for another flash fiction Friday.

Flash Fiction Fridays – Intergalactic Space Tours

My most recent writing post on Pinterest was a prompt about someone who goes on an intergalactic space tour only to discover there’s more to the guide assigned to them than meets the eye. Since it got a lot of views and attention, I thought you guys might enjoy seeing my spin on it. Here it is!

~~~

Elmora peeked around the corner of her bathroom door at the man sitting on her room’s couch. He didn’t notice her. Too engrossed in checking his personal holo while he waited for her to come out of the bathroom. He was supposed to take her to the ship’s dining hall for dinner and then out onto the surface of the planet they’d landed on. Shyn, was it? Or maybe Shryn? She couldn’t keep the places straight anymore. The things she’d seen just blended into a kaleidoscope of colorful cultures, new foods, and a few unpleasant surprises.

Unpleasant surprises were the reason she was now hiding in the bathroom. Thryen was one of the unpleasant surprises, to be more specific. Well, maybe not unpleasant. She couldn’t really decide if it was pleasant or unpleasant to run into him here. But she definitely didn’t like the fact that he’d lied to her about what he’d been up to the last few years. She sucked in a slow breath and pressed her back to the wall. Should she confront him about it? Ask him why he’d left a life of luxury and peace to be a tour guide, of all things, aboard the InterGalactic?

Well, it had to be faced at some point, didn’t it? Equally pressing was the small matter of his interest in her and the utter lack of subtlety he exercised in showing it. Heat rose in her cheeks. It wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be assigned a guide that couldn’t hide his interest and kept secrets. To think she’d thought they’d be good friends when they’d first met during on of his assignments on Earth.

She shook her head and smoothed down her skirt before stepping out of the bathroom. Thyren looked up at her, and one of his rare smiles spread over his lips. “Ora, the dress looks lovely on you.”

The heat in her cheeks rose to the tips of her ears. “Thanks. I guess… Thyren?”

He shoved his holo into his pocket and raised a brow. “What? You look like you’re going to faint of fear. Is something wrong?”

She played with one dangling earring. “Maybe. I don’t know…”

“You don’t know?” Confusion flitted across his face. “What does that mean?”

“You lied to me,” she blurted out.

The color drained from his face. “I lied to you about what?”

“You said you were a nobody when we met. You told me you wanted a quiet life and that after your task on Earth was over, you were going to find a quiet place in the woods to have that life.” She bit her lip and held in the tears. “But you weren’t telling the truth. You knew how I felt about liars when you said it, and you still lied!”

“I… I may have left some things out,” he murmured. “But I wasn’t lying about what I wanted.”

“Then why are you here? I don’t get it! You grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth. The acclaimed half-breed child, the first half-human and half-alien that survived from a breeding between humans and your mother’s race. And you left it all to what?” She waved a hand at the room as a whole. “To do bounty hunting and then give tours to air-headed women and arrogant men who want to see all the galactic wonders?”

“I hated being there. Out here, I’m free to be me.” Thryen’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Out here, I don’t have people demanding that I be what I’m not just to suite their needs. I don’t have women of both races trying to trick me into marriage just in the hopes of having their own exotic baby.”

Her heart ached for him, but her rational mind only saw the lies. How could she excuse this? True, his secret wasn’t really bad or good. But it hurt that he hadn’t chosen to trust her during the entire time they were friends on Earth or even now, when she’d come under his protection and guidance for the duration of the tour. “And you didn’t think I’d get that?”

He sighed. “I wanted to leave it behind, Ora. I wanted you to see me for me and just enjoy our time together without thinking about everything back home. Is that so bad?”

She lowered her head with a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know, Thyren. I really don’t. But I think I’d like to skip dinner. I’m not really hungry.”

“And the tour on Shyren?”

She shook her head. “I… I don’t want to go. I want you to leave me alone, please.”

“Ora…” He reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders.

She should shrug him off, but she didn’t have the energy.

“I know you’re mad. And I should’ve known you’d be upset if I didn’t tell you and you found out some other way. I’m sorry.” He pulled away and shuffled to the door. “If you change your mind about dinner, you know I’m just next door.”

She nodded but didn’t look up. The door banged closed, and she stood there, trying to understand everything that had just happened. Her heart hurt so badly that she wasn’t sure she could bear it another second, but since she couldn’t escape her own feelings, she just shambled to the bed and dropped onto it. Curling into a ball, she lay there and hoped sleep would put her out of her misery soon.

~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed and are having a great end of your week so far! See you next week.

Flash Fiction Fridays: Someone Else’s Scars

This week’s flash fiction is based on a prompt I saw on Pinterest. The prompt is pretty simple: her skin is carved with scars that someone else earned. It seemed interesting, so here we go.

~~~

Anorah gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut. The knife dug deeper into her arm, avoiding any arteries but inflicting more than enough pain. That would scar. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she didn’t open her eyes. It would only be one more scar out of dozens.

Dozens of scars that she hadn’t earned but bore for love. These days, she wasn’t even sure why she suffered this anymore. Was he really worth her long-suffering and her silence in the face of pain he himself allowed to be inflicted?

“Give up on him. He isn’t worth this, Anorah.” Her tormentor’s breath was hot on her cheek. “He’s letting us do this. He’s too apathetic to do anything. You’re just taking the punches for him. For a man who doesn’t even care.”

She swallowed hard and opened her teary eyes. “I’m not going to give up on him. You want me to give him up? To let him fall into your hands? To let you drag his soul into the darkness?”

“You know what we want. We’ve told you. Why do you keep fighting? He’s going to end up under our sway eventually whether you die or live.”

She shook her head, a cry sticking in her throat. “I won’t give up on him. You can do whatever you want to me. You can even tear me to pieces or rip my heart out of my chest. But you can’t make me step out of the way or tell you how to get to him.”

“So you’ll die to protect him?” The man’s dark features twisted into a snarl. “What calls on you to do such a thing, hmm? He. Is. Not. Worth. It.”

“He is.”

He dug the knife deeper. “He’s not.”

She choked on her sob and shook her head. “You’ll never understand because you only know how to take. You don’t know how to love.”

“Love? Don’t think that nonsense means anything. He doesn’t love you, so why suffer for him?”

She smiled past the pain, the ache in her heart worse than even the pain in her arm. This man just didn’t understand. “He has hurt me more than you ever could. He destroyed my heart. You’re just destroying my body. But I forgave him anyway. I forgave him because I love him. I don’t love him because he’s good or perfect. I love him because I chose to, and I won’t change that choice. Ever.”

He growled and drove the knife through the fleshy part of her arm. “What could possible inspire you to love him? He’s a monster!”

Her voice strangled as the pain overwhelmed her, but she got the words out anyway. “I love him despite what he’s done because I have been loved unconditionally despite what I’ve done.”

Her tormentor twisted the knife, and white hot pain seared through her. Her mind blanked, and blackness fringed her vision. In the distance, she could hear herself screaming, but the pain no longer touched her. Then the blackness swallowed her.

~~~

That’s it for this week’s Flash Fiction Friday. Hope you all enjoyed. Have a great weekend, everyone!

Flash Fiction Fridays: Face-to-Face

This week’s flash fiction doesn’t go with anything in particular. It’s just a short piece based on the idea of portals and what someone might do if they found one or what they might find on the other side.

~~~

Molly stared at the portal in the small cave. It hadn’t been here yesterday when she’d found the cave in the woods of her new property. Granted, she hadn’t been looking too closely, but she wouldn’t miss a glowing light emitting from the cave, would she?

She glanced around. Should she tell someone? Maybe. But if she did, then she’d have people swarming the property to get a look and reporters hounding her for a story. She bit her lip. Best to keep it to herself. But since she was keeping it to herself, she’d better have a closer look at it, make sure nothing dangerous would come out of it. Like dragons or something. Dragons didn’t exist, of course, but then again, neither did portals, so maybe they did. Regardless, she couldn’t afford trouble coming onto or off of her property. Not after she’d just moved here to get away from the trouble back home.

Heaving a sigh, she climbed down into the cave and trudged to the portal. It didn’t look dangerous. Still, she could be mistaken about it. It might not be a portal. Maybe it was some sort of laser that chopped things to bits. She picked up a stone and chucked it through then walked around to the other side of the glowing portal thing. No stone. Well, whatever this was, it either vaporized things or it was a portal. She could check the vaporizing theory at least. Climbing back out of the cave, she found a stick with good length to it and managed to get it back down into the cave. She shoved that into the portal thing and pulled it back out. Nothing looked any different about the stick. Huh. Maybe it really was a portal.

One way to find out. She sucked in a deep breath and stepped into the glowing ring. For just one frantic heartbeat, everything went dark. Then the light was back, and she stepped out into a barren wasteland. Nothing, not even scrub bushes, dotted the ravaged landscape. Just cracked earth and oppressive heat. She turned to look at the portal behind her only to find a person standing in its place.

A person who looked exactly as she imagined she would if she were twenty years older.

~~~

Well, that’s it for me this week! I hope all of you have an awesome weekend, and good luck to all of you in your writing endeavors. If you’re stuck and looking for inspiration, considering checking out the writing prompts I post on Pinterest. Otherwise, have a great rest of your week!

Flash Fiction Fridays: Cold Hard Stone

This week’s flash fiction is my take on a writing prompt I recently posted on Pinterest.

~~~

Shauna opened her eyes to…nothing? Inky blackness met her gaze, and she shifted with a soft whine. Pain sparked through her arm, but she ignored it and forced herself to sit up anyway. Where was she? Cold stone met her palms and the backs of her thighs, and she winced. Not being able to see anything was unnerving.

She slid her fingers along the stone until they met empty air. Some sort of pedestal then. How far was it to the floor? She didn’t dare try to climb off this thing without knowing what lay beneath. Really, in this kind of darkness, the floor could be thousands of feet below her or some monster could lurk in the darkness. She’d seen enough to know the monster under the bed wasn’t always the result of an overactive imagination.

But she couldn’t sit here all day, either. Well, maybe not day. Too dark to know if it was day or night wherever she was. Either way, she couldn’t stay here. She felt down the side of the stone she sat on, inch by inch. Nothing snapped at her fingers, but she also couldn’t feel any other surfaces to step on just yet.

Her head ached with the motion, and her injured arm throbbed. While she quested for some indication of where she might be situated and how to escape, she occupied herself with trying to determine what might have happened to her. Had she been drugged? Given how her head felt, quite likely. She must have put up a fight to be injured like this unless whoever dragged her down here and been careless. Why, oh, why– Her fingers brushed against another solid surface.

Cheering mentally, she leaned over to feel along the cool surface. More stone, but it seemed to be more the sort flooring might be made out of. That was a good sign. Even better, it didn’t drop off that she could tell. She slipped her feet over the edge and eased onto the solid ground beneath the stone slab she’d been on. One step at a time, she felt her way along the new surface until she hit a wall.

Walls were good. They meant that, besides stairs, the floor probably didn’t just end somewhere. They also meant she was in a man-made structure of some sort, whether built entirely by hand or built into some sort of cave structure. At least she knew there would be some rhyme or reason to the building. She continued forward, shuffling along at a slow, steady pace.

The darkness in the space eased a bit at a time with each step she took. It felt like an eternity before it happened, but she took a turn with the wall and burst out into a dimly-lit hall. A door stood at the other end, and through the tiny pane of glass, she caught a glimpse of what appeared to be some kind of lab. Had they brought her here to be a guinea pig? If so, why leave her in the dark, unchained and free to roam whenever the drugs they’d given her wore off? Perhaps there was something more going on in that dark place. And just maybe she’d gotten out in the nick of time. She stopped at the door and peered in through the glass pane.

Her breath caught in her chest, and bile rose in her throat. There, on the screens mounted all over the room, was the unmistakable form of some giant creature on the infrared camera feeds. It must have been down in that place she’d come from or somewhere even deeper for whoever owned this place to use infrared cameras to keep an eye on it.

She cracked the door open and slipped inside the unoccupied room. Once inside, she simply stared at everything. The word Behemoth was written in bold red ink across a folder nearby and again in black print on the far wall. Behemoth. Was that the creature or the organization? She reached out and flipped the folder open with trembling fingers.

Pictures of twisted, torn bodies of young women spilled out across the metal table in disarray. She gasped and stepped back, her fingers going to her throat. What was this place? She turned away, stomach heaving, and took one step in the direction of the door.

Black, polished shoes reflected the fluorescent lights. Her gaze traveled up over black slacks, a white lab coat, and a neatly pressed grey shirt until it met a blue gaze as sterile as its owner’s clothing. She swallowed hard.

The man offered her a razor sharp smile. “I see Moth didn’t take you. Well, guess he’s judged you suitable for phase two, which means you’re all mine from here on out.”

A scream lodged itself in her throat.

“Oh, come now. You weren’t eaten alive. This part will be much better than that, I promise. I’m the much gentler side of Behemoth. The face it presents to the world. I won’t hurt you. Much.”

Now why didn’t she believe that? She took a shaky step back and snatched the first sharp object she saw off the table. A pen. How useful.

He eyed it with a bemused grin and slipped a syringe from his pocket. “I can see he chose well, little girl. When you wake up, it’ll all be much less frightening, I promise.”

~~~

That was a little bit longer than the last few have been, but I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway! If you’re curious about what the prompt was or want to give it a try yourself, you can check it out on Pinterest. I post about two writing prompts a week on The Fantasy Nook Blog’s Pinterest page, so if you’re looking for inspiration, head on over and take a look. I also pin other people’s writing prompts when I find interesting ones, so there’s a little of something for everyone, I think.

Flash Fiction Fridays – Guardian

This week’s Flash Fiction Friday is another one based on a prompt I found on Pinterest. This one is built on the premise that everyone but you has a guardian angel. Instead, you have a guardian demon who deals with things in more violent but much more efficient fashion. It sounded interesting, so let’s see where this goes.

~~~

“Did you really have to do that?” I pointed to the corpse with his burned-out eyes and open mouth, which had, just seconds ago, been releasing a lot of noise. A lot of hot air too. Seriously, he should have known no one could reason with a demon. I’d figured it out ages ago. Hadn’t taken me more than a few hours after he showed up.

“He was a danger to you.”

“Azariel, he just wanted my wallet.”

“I know humans and their dark intentions, little girl. I’ve been around a few times. Seen things you couldn’t even imagine.” Azariel examined his sharp, curving claws with a sniff. “He would’ve done much worse than steal your wallet.”

“Thanks for that image.” I gagged and turned away from the corpse. “But you can’t murder everyone who comes after me!”

“Why not? I’m not an angel, pet. I’m a demon, and demons create havoc, destroy things, and lead humans astray.”

I groaned and shook my head. “Remind me again why you’re here? I never asked for a guardian—angel or demon—but I certainly would’ve chosen anything but you.”

“Such bratty behavior for someone who would’ve died if I hadn’t stepped in.” Azariel smiled at me and flicked my wayward bangs out of my eyes. “Really, Ash, would it kill you to be grateful? I know I’m supposed to encourage greed and all other banal, wicked attitudes in humans, but I have feelings too. I’d appreciate a little bit of thankfulness for saving your life.”

Azariel,” I drawled. “You have been leaving a trail of corpses behind you since we met a month ago. I’m going to end up in jail as a serial killer, and my life will basically be over anyway. Can you pleasejust let me handle things and, I don’t know, buzz off?”

“That would be boring.”

“You’re thousands of years old. You don’t need me to amuse you. Find some other human to toy with. I don’t need the devil’s protection.”

Azariel pursed his lips. “Well, it’s all you’ve got right now.”

“And I’m telling you, I don’t want it. I know the cost associated with it way too well.” I grimaced, hating that I couldn’t get him off my back. Really, I’d seen what contracting with demons resulted in, and I didn’t want any part. Maybe I might not have a guardian angel, but I could live with that. God could decide when I went, guardian angel, demon, or whatever. Not like anything was going to stop Him, and I didn’t want anything to do with this demon since it seriously increased my chances of ending up dead.

Azariel had been silent for too long. He looked like he was in pain, but then the expression flashed away, replaced with the usual smugness he projected. “What if I said I’d stop being your guardian demon?”

“On what conditions? My immortal soul?” I crossed my arms. “Come on, Azariel, what do you take me for? A fool?”

“Well… You did almost let that man—”

I raised a hand. “Enough. I get the idea. What will I have to give you in return for getting rid of you? Hmm? My firstborn child?”

Azariel shivered in disgust. “Good gods, no. What would I do with a baby? Eat it?”

I gagged. “Seriously? That’s the first thing you come up with?”

He shrugged with an innocent smile. “I’m a demon? Generally, my first idea is the most violent one.”

Unbelievable. “What. Do. You. Want?”

“Well, I’m not going to leave. But I’ll stop being your guardian demon.”

I face-palmed. “That doesn’t get rid of you.”

“Nope. But it does exonerate you of the price you’d have to pay for my guardianship.”

I stalked off down the alley. “Stupid demons. I’m going to snap his neck like a twig one of these days, I swear.”

“I heard that.”

Well, good. He was supposed to.

~~~

Well, that’s it for this week’s Flash Fiction Friday. Hope you enjoyed it. As always, if you have something you’d like to see here, feel free to reach out in the comments or by email!

Flash Fiction Fridays – First Meetings

This week’s flash fiction is about Leo’s parents and their first meeting. If you’ve ever wondered how his mother ended up stuck in such an awful situation, this answers that. Enjoy!

~~~

She held her head as high as she could and looked him in the eye. Pale violet blended out into a deeper shade of indigo, and she stared just as much as he stared at her. A shiver went down her spine. No warmth lingered in his gaze. He was cold. Even colder than the slave traders who had brought her here. 

The way station’s travelers bustled outside the large three room house where they were kept. None of them had any idea what went on in here. None of them knew that she would probably leave this building with one of the men here today. But she held her head high anyway and forced back the tears. No help was coming. No one on the outside could do anything even if they knew, and she couldn’t pull them into this mess. The men here were all powerful in their own rights, and none of them would think twice about killing anyone who intervened. She’d seen it happen.

The violet-eyed man stalked to her position in the line, his gaze never leaving hers. A challenge flared to life there, as if he were daring her to run from him, daring her to find out that she wasn’t so strong after all. She tensed and fought the urge to lower her gaze and to hide from him. He stopped right in front of her and reached out to grip her chin between his fingers. She flinched, and a cruel smile curved his lips. He could’ve been carved from marble for all he cared about how he made her feel. He was even worse than the men leaving with their new slaves. They might afford their slaves some dignity. This man? He would break anyone he chose, and she was the unlucky soul he’d chosen. He might not have bought her yet, but he would. She knew the look in his eye. Saw it all the time, in fact.

“What’s your name, girl?” His low voice washed over her in warm baritones.

His voice didn’t belong with a man so hard. She lowered her gaze, unable to stand staring into those cold, hard eyes.

His grip tightened. “Do not make me ask again. I will take you into one of the back rooms and beat it out of you.”

She bit back a cry at the sudden pain in her jaw. “It’s Anne, Master.”

“It’s Caladhor. From now on, you will address me by sir or by my name.”

She licked her lips. How was she to know which to use when?

“Is that understood?”

“How do I know which to use?” She glanced up at him.

“It depends on my mood. If I look like I might want to kill you, sir might be most appropriate. If I’m pleased with you, my name will do. You’ll figure it out. And if you don’t pick up quick…” He released her with a sharp smile. “Well, never mind that. I think you’ll figure it out quickly enough.”

She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

“You’re figuring it out already.” His grin widened. “Though I don’t want to kill you just yet.”

Anne didn’t say anything. If he was hoping for a response, she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. She would do what she had to in order to live, but she wasn’t going to let him break her. She wouldn’t lose her spirit no matter what he did to her. He walked off to talk to the slave traders, and she watched the gold change hands. Inside, she was numb now. When Caladhor returned and grabbed her by the arm, she let him drag her out of the house without a word. Like it or not, a new life awaited, and this man would be the one who decided her fate. She would make sure she found a way to have a good one.

~~~

That’s it for this week, everybody! I hope you all enjoyed. If you have something specific you want me to write for this section of the blog, feel free to shoot me an email or leave a comment! I’m always happy to see new ideas and new writing prompts, particularly if they’re ones that would be more interesting to you all!

Flash Fiction Fridays: Dead Men Do Tell Tales

This week’s is pretty short. It’s based on a writing prompt I saw on Facebook that looked interesting. Hopefully you all enjoy even though it’s short!

~~~

He never should’ve taken the job. Or at least, not without asking a lot of questions first. His target lay bleeding out on the floor, her spirit long-gone and her knowledge his. He wished it weren’t. Swords for hire didn’t have much loyalty or honor, but gods curse it, he had some standards, and this violated them. 

He didn’t kill children or innocents.

He didn’t stand for selling out those who hired you.

Until today, those rules had governed his jobs. The woman–General Eilesi Araden–had been staging a coup, one of the largest in her country’s history, to take down her country’s corrupt oligarchy. His client had been her second-in-command, and his client had also lied about her. She hadn’t been guilty of anything except wanting the best for her country and her people.

He stepped away from the cooling body and fought down the bile rising in his throat. Now that she was dead, he would be a target if anyone knew he had her knowledge. Did his client know about his unique abilities? He didn’t generally broadcast it, so he could be safe. But even if he was safe on that front, would they risk the loose end he posed? He doubted it. Which meant he was going to have to run. The hunter had just become the hunted.

~~~

And that’s it. Like I said, it’s short. Do you guys have something you’d like to see on Flash Fiction Fridays? If so, feel free to email me about it or leave a comment below!