Tuesday, 17 December 2013

Little Red Riding Hood


http://lilliemcferrin.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Alone____by_LeMSC.jpg
Image ALONE by SHA-1



Little Red Riding Hood

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, there will, on occasion, be elements of supposition, particularly as the Mother’s next drug dose proved fatal due to contaminated cutting agents, but only as to motives because the main thrust of the Crown’s case is solidly grounded in that most irrefutable of scientific evidence, a clear DNA match. The real tragedy of this young, desperate woman’s actions on the day in question is that she presumably intended that one of the many people who commonly use the path every day would see her abandoned child and take her to the authorities, where social services would subsequently become responsible for her welfare. There are clear signs, warm coat, scarf, the now infamous story book and so on, that she had tried to prepare her daughter for a wait in the morning air to the best of her limited abilities. It is safe to say, however, that whatever demons may have been pursuing her during her advanced state of withdrawal, she can little have imagined that the daytime woodlands of rural England harboured a beast far more dangerous than that contained within the pages of a fairy tale; the defendant who sits before you today.”

200 words
@nickjohns999

This story was written for Lillie McFerrin's Five Sentence Fiction - Alone

Friday, 13 December 2013

The Cleansing Fire




I bury my face in her shirt, sobbing. Her scent insinuates itself into my tingling nostrils and draws me toward her, even now. I resist the siren call of her screams and let the crumpled garment drop from my useless fingers into the flames. And I step off to join it.
***
It had all started so easy; a trip to the pharmacy to replace her dwindling supply of meds. A quick in and out; no more dangerous that the monthly trip to forage for food.
I’d nailed the door shut and slid a note ringed with kisses under the weathered oak. I’d shrugged to adjust the familiar weight of my ballistic vest and checked that I was locked and loaded before dropping down the hatch and crawling out to meet the watery, winter dawn.
It had all gone to hell. Newly blocked streets had made for massive detours and delays. By the time I had all the drugs, I was running dangerously late. Lengthening shadows swarmed across every street, growing fast as the sun fled, phantom fingers reaching to pull me into the dark.
In movies in the old days, how many times did you shout at someone who got into a car in the dark without first checking the back seats? What can I say? I was in a rush to get back to her – and more than a little spooked by then. Hey! It’s not like they would steal the car. They don’t drive.
I jumped in and gunned the engine. The roar of the unsilenced V8 echoed off the concrete.
I felt a hand grab at my shoulder and threw myself flat on the bench seat. The hand scrabbled for a hold before falling away. I swung the shortened twelve gauge on its strap and fired blindly through the seat.
BAM! BAM!
I rolled out onto the road, and lay there, ears ringing and hands shaking from my narrow escape, gulping for suddenly scarce air. No injuries.
Jumping to my feet I snatched open the rear door to clear away the remains of my stowaway. I should have grabbed another car, but the old sedan had been hers in happier days and I wanted to hang onto it. I dragged the shredded body out onto the road. As I turned to get back in the front, the body heaved and snatched my leg. I kicked out and, as I wrenched away, I felt nails scratch down my leg as my Levis rode up above my boots.
BAM! BAM!
The body jerked across the asphalt like a gaffed fish being landed and lay still – for now. I fishtailed away and took three tries to get the flame near enough to my Camel to light it.
The tingling in my calf started almost straight away. I rubbed it hard with the side of my boot, hoping it was just an adrenaline twitch. By halfway home, my whole leg was burning and the other was tingling. I figured I had a couple of hours at best. I needed a plan.
***
I skid to a halt on our drive and fall out of the car. My whole body feels like it has been flensed and dipped in salt. My legs are numb and I move now with their characteristic shamble. My neck tingles. I can sense her presence.
Inside, I call “Honey, I’m home!” Like always.  
“Quick, out the window, my husband’s here!” comes her accustomed reply.
After bumping legs that no longer belong to me up the stairs, I lean my head against her door.
“Baby. Listen carefully. We’ve got a problem.” My tongue tingles and I feel like my mouth is full of dry crackers. I hear her wheelchair cross towards the door.
“What’s happened?”
“One of them’s here. In the house. No. I’ll kill it. Remember, you’ve got a revolver on the dresser. Love you Babe...”
The flames from the paraffin splashed about the lobby crackles and flickers, consuming the stairs. The smoke swirls, dancing with me, beckoning me to destroy the thing that will surely kill her if I wait. I grab blindly at the laundry pile. I bury my face in her shirt, sobbing.

700 words
@nickjohns999

This story was the winner of Jeff Tsuruoka's Midweek Blues Buster #39 and was inspired by this week's song 'Heavy in your Arms' by Florence and the Machine

Judge Jenn Monty said:-
First Place goes to @nickjohns999 – ZOMBIES! very creative and unexpected while still fitting the song perfectly. The descriptions of the disease spreading through the MC were excellent. Great job. And I just want to add – always double tap!

Thursday, 12 December 2013

Man The Hunter





Man The Hunter
Carefully placing the bike, I stepped back to survey the overall effect.
Scattered abandoned debris would attract adventurous scavengers. Open windows and doorways hinted at shelter or unlooted treasures.
Settling into the shadowy hide, checking fields of fire, I quieted my grumbling belly. My boiled bone soup would soon be replaced by something fresher.
There!

55 words
@nickjohns999

This story was judged the WINNER in Lisa McCourt-Hollar's 55 word Challenge #83

Judge J Whitworth Hazard (@zombiemechanics) said:-
Winner:
@nickjohns999 for his clever use of all three prompts to string together a horrifying man-trap. Curiosity will kill more than the cat when this guy's lurking in the dark corners.

Wednesday, 11 December 2013

No Laughing Matter


http://rochellewisofffields.files.wordpress.com/2013/11/adamickes-childsboots.jpg
Image Copyright Adam Ickes



No Laughing Matter

“Pete’s an asshole. Always thought it. Couldn’t never do nothin’ about it ‘til yesterday. Damn wilderness hike was his idea. But I heard the weather warning... 
Wanna hear a joke? ‘Before you criticise a man, walk a mile in his boots. That way you’ll be a mile away, and you’ll have his boots’.”
He smiled, cold as a winter kiss.
“That gave me the idea. See, with no boots, Pete’d stay with the tent. Diabetics are real scared about injured feet... so when the storm surge hit that canyon, well... 
Sorry Officer. I meant to say Pete was an asshole.”

 100 words
@nickjohns999

This story was written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields' Friday Fictioneers Flash Fiction challenge

Friday, 29 November 2013

Book Launch - Tales by the Tree - A Flash Fiction Anthology out now!



Gather Around The Tree With a Collection of 75 Tales From 40+ Authors.

Welcome to Tales by the Tree, a collection of holiday stories brought to you by a group of authors whose imagination knows no bounds. No matter how you enjoy your holidays, our collection features something for everyone. Included are Traditional Tales, Family Friendly, Holiday Humour, and Noel Nightmares. 

Grab a cup of cocoa and settle in for a long winter's night with Tales by The Tree, an amazing way to discover new talented authors, many of whom are published and can be found on Amazon. 

All royalties benefit the Mount Rose Elementary School library in Reno, Nevada.

This book can be purchased at: Amazon for £8.99 in print, or on Kindle for £3.08.  Enjoy an anthology of epic scope while supporting an excellent charitable endeavour.