Flash Fiction: REVENGE!

Four of them. Each strong, big, angry. I felt bad for ‘em.

Dental surgery worth a damn wouldn’t be invented for the next few decades. Continue reading

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Microfiction: Hide

The cracks let in the wind. A howling wind. Moving there, touching a hair, a face, a piece of cloth. A taste on it, of gunpowder and ash. Of the ending of the world.

Terry kept his hand on the handle, though if it went, it would not stop from going by his grip. Haley clutched a collection of towels and buttons that made a bear. Continue reading

Mega Flash Fiction: Campfire Tales

The fire was warmer than Henry thought it ever could be. This close, it was something beyond heat; it was a dry pain, a wrapping skin melt. And he couldn’t move away from it, that option was even more dangerous. The shiny metal this close to his neck promised a much warmer and wetter pain should he make the attempt.

“You didn’t like my story, huh?” Finn asked, pressing the knife closer. With the light casting on his face, he was the second brightest thing in the forest of barren trees. A fox ran by and cracked twigs, and both boys–even if not consciously–noticed it.

“It wasn’t scary,” Henry replied, his eyes wide. “But I didn’t not like it.”

“What’s wrong with my ghost story? You want to see scary? I can show you scary!” Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Against The Wall

If I did not have a gun, this man would worry me. With the gun, I was only on professional high alert.

Perhaps a description would be useful in this, a reference point to the creature—once human.

He had the usual marks—dark green veins around his mouth. Had the standard shadows at his feet dancing and snapping at things. Each time they touched me I got cold.

He also wore a black suit. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Dark Zone

In a town like this, you learn not to drink from the water fountains. This lesson, among many others, came with living in a Dark Zone. We are one of the towns you hear about in horror stories. We have a curse from someone or something always popping up around once a month.

For most of us, life is short. But you can manage to survive longer if you bother to be smart about what you are doing.

You must be self-reliant, because it’s not like you will get much help. The thing about Dark Zones is that we can’t communicate out of it to anywhere but other Dark Zones. If the type of phenomena we regularly experience ever reached the attention of the mainstream media, it would change the world. If a single person escaped after being pulled in, we might have the entire country’s military come down to purge the place like a zit on the fabric of reality.

But we can’t, so they don’t. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Home Invasion

The door flew outward off its hinges without even a stutter to the motion, crashing into a wall and splintering.

All the eyes in the room darted to the open doorway. Someone’s grasp wrapped around a pistol, but hesitated to use it. The others: a woman, two children, and one teenage male, all remained quiet. Continue reading

Microfiction: Learning

Quick, dirty, and cerebral. Welcome to the microfiction:

Learning

Mr. Burner was a tad concerned when he found his student, Billy Auster, sitting by the side of the railing on the third floor of the School for The Miraculous Brain. Not because of the height, Billy was a fairly careful child and was not going to do any of the stupid showboating another student might. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Gorehound

The book opened and laid on his knee. The paper was faded, old, and crinkled. A coffee stain on its binding from back when there was coffee.

“It says many things about what you described,” the man said.

“A ‘book’ does?” asked the boy sitting at the man’s feet. Off in the corner of the room a machine puttered along, producing heat.

“Yes. There was once a time when books told everyone all knowledge. We had one great book we used to read.” Continue reading

Microfiction: Sales Rush

I smashed in his head with a half-priced chrome shower curtain pole. It beat taking coffee any day. The buzz, THE BUZZ.

I hear some yuppie college prick sneaking up on my shopping cart. Followed along by his girlfriend, with smeared cheap-ass mascara like devil horns on her forehead. Animals the lot of them, filthy money grubbing animals.

So I put a pair of stainless steel steak knives from my thirteen-piece cutlery set through their fucking hearts.

I’d raid their wallets, but some kid in last week’s diaper snatches it and runs underneath a couple of elderly woman gumming up the forearm of some gym teacher wielding a pair of hand weights.

“Shit! I could have gotten some shoes with that, you beast.” Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Waking Nightmares

For those that don’t read the comments at the end of my articles (read: everyone), my blogger friend Nemo proposed the idea of a story that used a location as the central character. (You can read the conversation here: Click me). I decided it sounded like a cool idea.

Here’s my attempt at it.

It’s called:

Waking Nightmares

It occurred to me on a random summer night, while I was laying on the singular bed inside a house with no fewer than fifty rooms, that I will never kill anyone. Continue reading