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flash fiction

Five Sentences

An entire story summed up in the last paragraph. Only five sentences.

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“Next time a fairy wakes you to go on an adventure into the demon realm, call me,” Adam says playing with the pendant he brought back. Still it glows with the energy of the demon now trapped inside.

“Eliza will love it,” Ralf says. “She wouldn’t have been able to escape without your help. That’s all she cares about.”

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Gargoyles Part I

 

Curious about the animals from the celestial realm, Sebastian sets off to find and see one in person.

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Floating dust particles shine through the sun rays breaching the window. A loud snore fills the air. Sebastian tries to tune it out, nose buried in Isaiah’s books. There’s hundreds of them. They’re everywhere. On chairs. On couches. On the dinner table. The man’s only activity appears to be studying. Not common for someone so rude and obnoxious.

‘Gargoyles’ written in big golden letters on the spine of the book Sebastian’s holding. He stares with wonder and intrigue, fascinated at the creatures hand drawn onto the pages. Tiny cliff notes fill the corners of each page pointing out the different parts of the creatures. Weaknesses. How they attack. And he reads every word.

“I could definitely beat that one,” he says to himself poking the monster on the page. “The gargoyle. A bird with stone armor. Capable of flight,” he reads, “it can either stand up-right or run on its arms and legs. Like a gorilla that can fly.”

“That’s amazing!” Sebastian yelps as he springs to his feet.

Isaiah moans. Opens his eyes. Turns to the kid. Then says, “Goodnight mom,” and falls back out of consciousness.

Sebastian, shrunk nearly waking Isaiah and sits back down. Nose back in the book. “Only ever found at churches. A type of animal from the celestial realm.”

The gears in the kid’s head begin to spin. He’s remembering a…

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The Investigation, Part 1

After Arthur managed to escape the asylum and ravaged a small family the state designated his recapture a priority and an investigation into his psychology was initiated.

The detective roams the house in search of clues.

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The rooms smells of burnt carpet and charred coal. You’d think the scent would have faded by now. If not for the dust and dry air it’d be easy to confuse as fresh.

Candy wrappers, crinkled up papers and broken glass crackle beneath my boots as I move through the abandoned house.

Shattered picture frames and porcelain dolls rest on the coffee table center of the living room. Yellow tape still play the roll of bedroom doors. No one’s stepped foot in the house since the tragedy occurred.

His bedroom is the only part of this godforsaken place that isn’t a complete disaster. It’s untouched. As if he’d not once been inside. As if every waking minute was of each day were wasted compulsively cleaning and organizing personal belongings.

Minus the excessive neatness, nothing seems off.

The report said the family was quiet. Private. Then the incident happened.

What could drive a man to so brutally…

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Loosen The Grip

The most difficult challenge a writer faces is learning to be less critical of themselves. To allow the work to stand on its own. Learning when to stop editing themselves and how to let go of the work when its time.

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Click, click, click… Typing away at the keyboard. Minutes morph into hours, then days, then weeks. Before too long, months have gone by. A hundred thousand words on a manuscript. The deadline for the first chapter is in a month. It’s time to edit that first chapter. And edit. And edit. And edit that first chapter.

Typing away at the keyboard. Minutes morph into hours, then days, then weeks. Before too long, a month has gone by. Ten thousand words edited to the fullest of my ability. All the little finalizations required get attention. That nervous shiver of whether or not something is going missed. Confidence is hard to have, but I know it has to be let...

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In Bed With Arthur

Arthur, after having liberated the evil from the corrupt family, was once again caught by the corrupt police and returned to his prison. The cage where they accuse him of insanity. He knows the bad guys don’t win. And he’s the hero of the story, so he will not lose.

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Eyes open, I’m in bed
Six years, been like I’m dead
Tech sticking from my head
Strapped, chain down
Dark room, no sound
Mind rush, go round
Fear, possessed now
No exit near while held down
Tears, the scream bounce around
Leering gaze from the shadows of the room
A crooked grin, hazy, sharp teeth, it’s hungry too
An abomination, with no hesitation it…

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Gone in a Flash

Flash Fiction written in under ten minutes as an exercise. Jack dives into the first person perspective of the last living moments of a kid trying to impress a girl having gone wrong.

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This isn’t how it was supposed to go. There is no way to turn back now and it’s all a waste. Hindsight is 20/20. We only realize our mistakes could have easily been avoided had we given them just a little more thought. But there is no turning back now. There’s no way to save the moment.
All of this for a girl. Who would have imagined the lights would be cut off this way? To prove a point. To show off. Faster than a speeding bullet, yet even the Flash knew when to take a breather. When to take an extra second to think.
Now that it’s going this way, I’m not even sure I get what I was trying to accomplish. How could any of this have played out well?
As if time slowed down, nearly to a halt, this moment goes on forever. I see a second by second breakdown of the last plays of the game and…

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Fighting The Crooks: Part 2

After learning the president has been lying to her for as long as she's known him, Team Leader Rachel Chambers sets out to learn the truth behind this secret facility her and her team have walked into, in this second part to Fighting The Crooks

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As if a veil of lies was lifted from her, team leader Rachel Chambers is frozen. Stuck. Terrified at what her eyes can’t unsee.

Hidden from within the shadows with three of her squad mates they watch as The United States of America’s First Lady directs a heavily armed troop to prep children for slave labor.

This team, self-titled ‘The Patriots’, have been faced with the cold hard truth that their patriotism has been in the name of a corrupt government all along. Their willingness to serves blinded them from what’s been going on under their noses all along.

“What do we do, Cap?” Zack the medic asks for the second time.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I need to think,” Chambers replies. “God! This is so fucked up!” She clenches her fists and jaw fighting back the urge to gun down every guard in the facility. But knowing she’d get killed in exchange is enough to hold her back. There is more than meets the eye going on in this facility and she needs to get to the bottom of it. She needs to get revenge on the corrupt president she’s served for seven years being lied to every step of the way.

Chambers’ thoughts are fogged while resisting the tunnel vision to act immediately. “Alexander,” She says.
”Yes, sir?” The stealth recon officer asks.
”Take charge. I can’t even focus,” Chambers tells him.
”Immediately, sir.” Alexander responds. For her entire fifteen year career leading the team she’s had Alexander Paviolla by her side as her right hand. Her better and calmer judgement. Her best friend. Greatest rival. Second in command. No soldier does Chambers trust more.
”Okay, team,” Alexander begins.” We have to get…

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