With the dead bodies of her two best friends close by, eleven-year-old Miranda carefully raised one of the window slats with her finger and peered out into the garden.
She watched as the massive creature, known as a Nellyphant, pushed its trunk against the tree house looking for its next meal. Although it was snowing, she could also make out the smaller creatures, known as Mickice, on the roof of the treehouse. They, too, had grown a liking for human flesh.
Miranda’s trap, of leaving her dolls in the treehouse, had
worked. The creatures thought they had their next meal, but Miranda knew it
wouldn’t be long before they worked out that they had been tricked.
While sliding her hand slowly between the window slats, the door behind Miranda creaked. She froze to the spot, terrified of what was coming into the room. However, she had her weapon ready in her other hand, so she knew she had a good chance of spinning around, taking aim, and killing with one shot whatever was coming through the door.
As she quietly counted down from five, she heard whatever it was, slowly approach her. The wheezing sound it made as it took short, sharp, intakes of breath, made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Just before her countdown ended, Miranda gripped her weapon firmly, span around, took aim, and faced what was behind her.
“Take this,” she yelled, as she fired her weapon at the
biggest Nellyphant she’d seen.
Then the real world appeared.
“OK, young lady, that’s enough,” coughed Miranda’s Mother, while removing the PlayStation virtual reality headset from Miranda’s head. “You’re too young to be playing this violent videogame,” she voiced while holding the box of the game in front of Miranda’s face. “Go play with your dolls instead.”
As Miranda climbed the stairs in protest, her mother blew her nose before slipping on the virtual reality set. Maybe playing a video game would take her mind off the head cold she had.
***
Written in response to the Monthly Speculative Fiction Writing Prompt, from Diana, at Myths of the Mirror. Click here for full details.
While trudging through the thick snow with her team, Judy
Morrison’s mind was in overdrive. For years, she’d been trying to solve the
puzzle of the thirteenth day of Christmas, something mankind had mistakenly taken
for granted, and was now almost on the verge of solving the riddle.
Everybody thought that Christmas had twelve days, yet why
did the twelfth night of Christmas fall on the thirteenth day?
Jonathan, Judy’s boyfriend, had given her twelve gifts: one on each day of the twelve days of Christmas. On the night he gave her gift number eleven, the night of January 4th, Judy had visions that the team were being watched by a mysterious force. As the clock struck midnight, and the twelfth day of Christmas arrived, Judy woke screaming from a terrible nightmare.
“What’s wrong,” asked Jonathan, rubbing his eyes, as the
cold winds battered their tent.
“We’re all going to die on the sixth day of January,” cried
Judy.
“What? Don’t be silly. Go back to sleep. It was just a
nightmare.”
Several minutes later, Judy found herself counting backwards
to December 25th, the first day of Christmas. It still didn’t add up
why ‘Twelfth Night’ was on the night of the 6th of January, still over
a day away.
The following evening, Jonathan gave Judy the last of his gifts, an engagement ring. Tomorrow, they would celebrate with the rest of their group when they arrived at their final destination, the mysterious village of ‘Twelfth Night,’ alleged to only appeared on January 6th.
As they waited patiently for ‘Twelfth Night’ to appear, Judy Morrison finally solved the riddle. As she turned to Jonathan to reveal the secret of Twelfth Night, the hand of a mysterious force that had been watching them since the first day of Christmas, froze the group in time.
Its secret was safe again from mankind, a species which, one day, it would conquer.
***
Written in response to the Monthly Speculative Fiction Writing Prompt, from Diana, at Myths of the Mirror. Click here for full details.
“We’re safe here in the forest until Marlon gets back. All of you, continue to rest and gain energy from bathing in the dappled light of the forest. Hopefully, we have found our new home.”
For 27 days and nights, they waited for Marlon to return. There was an anticipation of excitement in the air when he came back.
“Marlon, what have you found out? Can we live here?”
“I’m afraid not, your majesty.”
“What? Why not?”
“It’s some of the lifeforms of this world, Sir. They cut down the trees. Soon, nothing of this world will be left.”
Written in response to Charli Mill’s 99-word flash fiction challenge, with the theme of ‘Forest Bathing‘, over at the Carrot Ranch.
You can’t see me, but I’m watching you. You people interest me. Why are some of you unfaithful to the ones you say you love? Why do some of you murder those of the same kind? Why do some of you allow ‘hate’ to rule your minds?
You don’t know it, but each of you has a balloon. Like me, they are invisible to you but surround each of you. When your balloon bursts, you die.
It won’t be long, now, before my balloon bursts and you will all die. This planet, you all so un-love, will be mine.
I have no idea where this piece of flash fiction came from. I didn’t even have to think about the prompt. The first (and only draft) was precise 99-words long. That’s never happened to me before.
Written in response to the 99-word flash fiction challenge with the theme of ‘Balloons‘ over at the Carrot Ranch.
“Well, we’ll never see the blood properly if the movie is in black and white. It’ll be like watching Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’ with all that chocolate sauce used in the shower scene,” nagged Margaret.
Not only did Colin, her husband, wish he’d never downloaded the movie illegally, but he wished his wife would just stop nagging him all the bloody time.
Twenty minutes later, as the figure with the knife jumped back into their television set, Margaret’s last sight was that of the real colour of blood from the stab wound to her stomach.
“You wanted colour?” smirked Colin.
***
Written in response to the 99-word flash fiction challenge with the theme of ‘black and white’ over at the Carrot Ranch.
“Strawberry cheesecake ice cream? A family-sized fruit and nut chocolate bar? Iced-coconut sponge? What the heck is going on, Simon?”
“Comfort, you said, so I got you some of your favourite comfort foods. I thought the popcorn would bring back memories of our first date. These will all make you feel better. Oh, there’s one more thing.”
Julia rummaged around the shopping bag, hoping he’d got her what she wanted.
“Hot-cross buns? Are you kidding me? When I said comfort, I meant something I could put on my piles so I could sit down and be more comfortable!”
My recent post, The Trouble With Chocolate, where I dissected a commercial for a bar of Galaxy chocolate (Dove in the U.S.A), which features an Audrey Hepburn look-a-like, had me wondering what on earth happened to Audrey after she got in that strange man’s car.
Here is the commercial again, before I give you my version of what I think happened. Have a look at it, and then allow me to pick up the story for you.
The cool breeze passed Audrey’s face. The area around her mouth, now covered with chocolate, felt a little stiff but smelled heavenly.
She looked down as the stranger driving the car stared at her through the rear-view mirror. His eyes were a deep, dark brown, almost the same colour as the chocolate smothered across her face. She looked up again and wondered why he was driving a right-hand drive vehicle when they were in Italy? Then she remembered, but the answer disappeared as quickly as the chocolate had, once she had got the wrapper off. She still held the world record for eating a bar of Galaxy.
The stranger could not take his eyes off her, narrowly missing a group of chickens and a lady balancing a wheelbarrow on one eyebrow while standing on one leg. Even with her face and dress covered in melted chocolate, he still thought she was beautiful.
He remembered the day he had seen her buying that dress. Blowing kisses at him, she had flirted with him in front of other customers in the shop while he strolled around looking for somewhere to sit down. Then, unfortunately, he had mistakenly walked into a double D cup being worn by a mannequin at least a foot taller than him. The bra had made direct contact with his right eyeball, causing to him shout “ouch” and startle several other customers. By the time he had wiped away the tears, she had gone into the fitting room.
I’ll have to buy a new pair of gloves, she thought to herself, after using them to wipe away the chocolate off her face. Oh, how she wished somebody had invented stain remover. Then she thought she’d try to get away with giving them a quick rinse under the garden tap. “Damn!” she said to herself, having remembered she’d forgotten to bring her heartburn tablets off the old man sitting next to her on the bus.
The stranger blew her a kiss in the rear-view mirror, and she raised a hand to catch it, but a gust of wind caught one of the loose gloves in her hand, and she turned her head and watched it come to rest on the road. He did not stop the car, for he was full of excitement and wanted to get her to the other side of the hill as quickly as he could. He had big plans for the evening, so he put a little more pressure on the accelerator pedal.
No words had passed between them when the car finally came to a stop. He looked at her once more through the rear-view mirror while she picked up her handbag and fumbled inside it. She finally looked up at the building, now in front of her, her glance immediately going to the upstairs windows where she knew the excitement would begin. She felt so excited by the thought of what was about to happen; the heartburn tablets and the woman with the yellow bowl stuck on her head on the bus no longer mattered.
He finally got out of the driver’s seat and walked around, opening the door for her so she could step out. She was totally unaware that the wrapper from the chocolate bar was stuck to the back of her dress as she rose herself up from the back seat.
He put out his hand to help her out, and melted chocolate passed from her hand to his. The excitement for both was now nearing take off. It would not be long before they were inside the beautiful villa where all the waiting would finally come to an end. She looked up at him as he wiped his hand on the back of her dress.
“Why did you accelerate so quickly to get us here? I was enjoying the ride,” she romantically whispered to him.
Putting his solid and rugged arms around her and looking her straight in the eyes, the stranger finally spoke to her.
“The soft top of the car hood is stuck again, and the garage couldn’t fix it. Plus, I think there’s rain on the way because my knees have gone a little stiff. I’m off to watch the football. Stick the car in the garage will you before you have your bath. Your mother is dropping off the kids in ten minutes, and the dog needs walking.”
Audrey’s chocolate-scented bubble bath would have to wait.
“Happy 100th Birthday, George. There’s no point hiding. I know you’re in here. Two cards for you. One’s from the Queen; not that she or anyone else knows who you are.”
Closing the door to the cellar, Muriel wondered how long it took for the smell of a decomposing body to disappear.
Sacha Black challenges us to write something using the word ‘choke’ using just 52 words (no more, no less).
Choke – by Hugh W. Roberts
Olive Mackeson had died choking on a cheese and sweet pickle sandwich, shortly after pulling out the choke on the dashboard of her car, as her foot slipped off the clutch, forcing the car into the path of an oncoming truck.
Registration number of the car – K, one, one, L, M, E
Can you see that dark creature? It’s staring back at you. See its eyes?
Don’t look away from it. Stare at the creature for at least five seconds, and you’ll see exactly what it is.
Here, take another look. Remember, look at it for at least five seconds.
Did you stare at it for at least five seconds?
Did it reveal what it was to you?
Did you notice how it moved slightly?
No? Then take a final look. Remember, stare at it for at least five seconds. If you do, you’ll see it move slightly and reveal its secret.
Did it work? No? Then I’m going to have to tell you.
You see, that creature is the creak of the door. That faint sound you hear in the middle of the night wakes you up and makes you freeze, unable to move. That feeling terrifies you even though you’re not sure you heard a noise.
That creature is the creak of the trees as you walk past them. It’s the faint sound of those footsteps behind you. It’s the one ring of the telephone that stops and makes you wonder if anybody is really calling you. The chill passes through your body when somebody walks over your grave. That creature is the whisper you think you heard when you were all alone.
That creature only sleeps on the night of Halloween. That’s the one night you can rest, knowing you’ll be safe…unless…you stared at the photo for more than five seconds.
Did I not mention that the photo is cursed and that nobody should stare at it for more than five seconds or have read this post? Now you’re cursed. You see, that creature is me. I’m right behind you right now! Whatever you do, don’t look behind you. In fact, never ever look behind you ever again. Never! You see, if you do, then…
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