Flash Fiction
Achievement | Harbinger | Prey | Salvation | The Tree |
Bored | Old People |
Achievement
It was finished.
After years of toil, of making sure every part was perfect and whole-his opus was complete.
A moment of indiscretion had led Taltus to his doom but also to his supreme achievement. Here, in this five by five cell, the greatest written masterpiece of his generation had been born and refined to perfection.
Yet no one would hear or read it. It would die in this dismal place with him.
He stared at the blank walls surrounding him, fighting welling despair. Yet as he stared, their very essence changed in his mind, sparking hope.
The walls would be his parchment. Blood his ink.
His story would be told.
Harbinger
When my gaze came across the man-sized raven I thought my heart would stop. It walked through the death shrouded streets as if the Grim Reaper could not touch it. A wide brimmed black hat adorned its head, the ensemble filled out with black cloak, black leggings, a touch of white at the cuffs and a ruffle around his neck. Its glassy, oversized eyes stared at everything around it, its long beak as dark as night. There were no wings that I could see. But it didn't need them. It walked the streets easily, like everyone else, except for all the sick and dying.
The year 1665 had brought with it the Great Plague. Death danced amongst us. It dispensed its evil vapors to invade the unwary and add them to its ranks. It ripped families asunder without rhyme or reason. Its mark upon those chosen distinct and unassailable -- black blossoms at the neck, armpits, or groin. Raging fevers and headaches served as teasers of worse to come. Torturous pain twisted through the guts so those afflicted couldn't forget their coming fate. Then, eventually, mercifully, the End.
And here was a raven, walking among us, its mere presence foretelling more would fall.
I watched it move from house to house. Those that still held life and hadn't been boarded up to try to hold in the contagion or the ones belonging to those who'd fled the city hoping for fresher air. Its beak was closed tight though there were plenty of bodies it could have chosen to eat from. They were stacked on the cobbled streets waiting to be picked up for burial, the men burdened with the task coming later and later each day as the numbers needed to be disposed of rose.
The smell of rotting flesh, waste, fear and sweat rolled and coiled along the buildings clogging my nostrils, yet it didn't bother me. There'd been too much of it for too long for me to truly notice it anymore.
My parents were gone, my sisters dead. Rank and privilege had meant nothing in the end. Perhaps this time the messenger had come for me. Or, if I was careful, I could follow it to its master. Perchance it'd show me mercy and take me swiftly rather than leave me to die in agony alone.
The raven's circuitous route eventually took it to a small cottage beside a church. Once the door was closed I hurried forward to peek inside through a partially shaded window.
The wide brimmed hat came off revealing a head of white curling hair. A strap, previously hidden beneath it, was unbuckled. As I watched, the raven removed its beak and became a man. I recognize him. It was the local priest. His name tickled the edge of my memory, but I couldn't quite recall it. I did remember it'd been said he was a doctor as well.
I watched him remove moss and herbs from within what I now knew to be a mask. He put them away in a sealed tin, adding bits of this and that before closing it. Then he made notes on an already handwriting filled paper.
A cure? Had he perhaps found a cure? Mayhap the priest had found a way to clear the air to stave off infection. Surely a man of the cloth wouldn't be like the many who walked the streets claiming they'd been successful, dispensing their supposed wisdom for a fee. Hope rose in my breast, though since the cold had meant little to me this day, I had a feeling it might already be too late for me. Yet to think there might be a way to save those still here, to save brave London from Death's siege! It made me optimistic that spring might yet come after all.
But as I continued to watch him busily scrawling away, I realized the hope was futile. Whatever method he was trying didn't work. For there, on his neck, was a red circle which grew darker as I stared.
The priest was doomed.
The man-like raven had been a harbinger, but the message it carried this day hadn't been for me.
Prey
Her hunger tore at her guts, once more demanding its due. She ignored it, already on the prowl, seeking for the means to satisfy it.
So far the darkness had revealed nothing.
Honed senses scanned for the merest hint of prey. Deftly, she skirted the trees and other vegetation, searching, always searching.
Her pangs growing ever more acute, she finally spotted a bit of light glinting through the foliage. Like a moth drawn to a flame, she changed course, dizzy with the possibilities.
As she cleared the last of the trees, she found her endeavors hadn't been in vain. A large clearing opened up before her showing the top of a small hill with a house, the calling light coming from its open doorway.
Sticking to the shadows, she drifted closer.
Excitement ignited inside her as she noticed a flesh being sitting on a raggedy chair on the sagging porch, staring out into the night while smoking a pipe.
Food at last!
With darting movements she made her way up the hill.
Nearing the house from the side, she peeked into the porch, studying her quarry, making sure her presence had gone unnoticed.
The balding prey puffed on his pipe oblivious.
A stray strand of wind wafted the scent of cooling sweat and pipe smoke toward her. Beneath it, barely noticeable, was the intoxicating perfume of blood. She moved a little closer, her hunger rising to a fevered pitch.
All senses on the alert for signs that her victim suspected her presence, she drifted closer still. Staring at her target, she could easily envision the life giving fluid pumping through the veins and arteries. If she'd been able to, she would have licked trembling lips in utter anticipation.
Barely stirring the air around her, she snuck up behind her victim, mesmerized by the pulsing beat of blood beneath the skin at his neck.
She moved closer and closer, her hunger and the call of the blood driving her on. Yet she purposely stretched the moment, moving forward ever so slowly, letting her anticipation increase.
As she touched the warm skin with the lightest of caresses, she felt a tingle rise through her.
No longer able to contain herself, she plunged deep into the succulent flesh. Gushing blood filled her hungering body, covering her with shivers of utter ecstasy. This was what it was about -- this was why she existed.
Trapped in the moment she didn't notice the large presence rising over her. Too late, she felt the movement above her and tried to disengage from the pierced flesh. Pressure crushed her where she stood and sent waves of excruciating pain through her fragile being until mercifully, she could feel nothing at all.
The hunter had become the prey.
"Damn bloodsucker!"
Joe pulled his hand away from his neck, staring with disgust at the bloody smear on his callused palm. He stood up from the rocking chair, hastily wiping his hand on his coveralls.
"Myrtle, where's that blasted can of OFF again?"
Salvation
It started as a low rumble that built and built, reverberating off the walls of downtown.
Smiles peaked out at the increasing sound from dirty, scarred faces, their owners looking out toward the street from boxes and alleys, others through the open soup kitchen window that always burped out the friendly scent of baking bread.
They'd all heard the rumors. And it looked like they were about to find out if they were for real.
Corner dealers looked up like startled foxes and rushed to finish their transactions before slinking out of sight just in case. Streetwalkers stared with hope in the rumble's direction, making sure their pimps couldn't see their expressions.
The hum of engines roared as those approaching finally turned the corner, formed up in a double line. A Hesketh Vampire led the pack, followed by Kawasaki Ninjas, some Indian Chiefs, and even Hogs. The smell of exhaust filled the air. Glass rattled with the noise of their passing. Reflective sunglasses shone under the bright sun, even as black habits flowed behind them in the wind, their underskirts hitched up so they could ride.
As they came to a red light, the Mother Superior reached back to caress her bat sized cross in anticipation, her sawed off shotgun poking up above the seat from the other side of the machine. Both were within easy reach and ready for battle, just like she liked them.
The Mother Superior cracked her knuckles. After all the training, after all the sacrifice, the Church had finally deemed them ready. Souls would now be saved. She and her sisters were up to the task. Using whatever means necessary.
The Virgin Vixens-dispensing tough love in the name of God.
Prepare to be saved.
The Tree
Miaka sensed immediately that something in her kingdom had changed.
There was a new scent filtering through the house -- one that spoke of nature and outside. It sent a tingle through her furry frame, awakening primal instincts. She scurried to the corner of the hall, curious, watching her larger housemates struggle with this brown thing with green needles and that marvelous scent. They set it into a red bracket in the corner of the big room then cut away the net around it, which allowed the thing to spread out, small brown arms full of green reaching out, beckoning to her.
Boxes were brought in from the garage and set on the floor. These smelled of dust, glass, and metal.
She slinked around them and the tall outside thing, sniffing, cataloging, her small dark eyes bright.
Round, shiny items were taken out of the boxes and hanged off the arms of the tall mysterious thing. The sunlight glittered off their colorful bodies, making her dizzy and filling her with strange excitement.
Her housemates talked and worked, moving her out of the way when she got too close.
Eventually all the activity died down. Those who fed and played with her stood before the towering thing and stared with seeming pleasure.
The boxes were closed up and hidden beneath the couch or taken back to where they came from.
Miaka stared at it, too, and realized that this thing, it was for her. Must be hers. The tantalizing scents wafting from it told her so. She climbed the couch with a blur of speed then stood poised on the back studying what called to her soul. Yes, this was hers to do as she saw fit!
So moving over the top of the couch, she calculated angles and trajectories then she rushed at it, leaping through the air to land in the embracing branches.
"The ferret!"
The thing jingled and jangled as she dove deeper into the interior. Reaching the central core, she went upwards, her blood singing. She became as tall as her housemates. Taller! She was the owner of all she surveyed!
Her lofty perch began to sway.
"Miaka! Miaka, no!"
CRASH.
"Oh my God!"
She rolled as the thing bounced and ran off under a chair amidst the sudden yelling and running around by the others. Peeking out, she saw there was no need to worry. Her housemates were setting up her toy upright again.
Soon she would reign supreme once more.
Bored
"Mom, I'm so bored." Dave sat on the wooden back porch of the Toriyama's house, feet dangling. A well kept stone garden with small walkways filled the backyard, a tall wooden fence making it a world onto itself. Or so he'd been told.
"Honey, quiet! They'll hear you." His Mom rushed on stockinged feet to close the distance between them. "You're being terribly rude."
His face bunched up, his boredom turning to annoyance. "When you said we were going to Japan on vacation, you never said it'd be like this!" He waved his arms around at everything around them. He'd thought they were going to be in Tokyo or maybe Kyoto not in the mountains in the middle of boring nowhere.
"I'm sorry, sweetie. But we couldn't have come otherwise. Airfare and hotel would have been too much. When Betty said she knew some people we could stay with who wanted to learn more about the US, it was the only way we could even think to make it." She reached out to touch his arm but he pulled away. "We'll go to Tokyo on the last day. I have the bus and train schedules all set thanks to Mrs. Toriyama."
"One day there and over a week here. Yeah, joy." He turned away from her crossing his arms. How was he supposed to find all the manga and anime he wanted to buy at Mandarake with only one day to look through it all? Joey had told him the main store was several stories tall all crammed full of awesome stuff.
"Honey, I'm trying my best." She lowered her voice. "Why don't you go take a walk and cool off? I'd really hate for the Toriyama's to see you like this." The sentence dripped with disapproval.
"Fine." Dave stood up and tromped through to the front of the house wishing his shoes weren't in the foyer. Maybe he wouldn't take them off when he got back. Traipsing on the tatami with them on, that would show his Mom.
A smirk planted on his face, Dave put on his shoes and went outside. Taking the path to the gate, he let himself out onto the one lane paved road beyond. Everywhere he looked there was green. That or the flat cuts into the side of the mountains for rice paddy fields. Boring!
Shoving his hands in his pockets and staring only at the ground, he took the road randomly to the right. It was hot and humid with only the sound of insects for company. The road slanted up. The fields were soon gone and large trees grew overhead draping cool shadows over him. Old Shinto shrines or stone statues of babies with faded red scarves peeked at him from the foliage.
He was about to turn around when he noticed the road split a few feet ahead. One side continued on and up, while the other looked to go straight into the granite of the mountain. Maybe it was a tunnel. That would be cool to see. Might as well make the trip up here be worth something.
Jogging up the split he did spot a yawing maw of darkness. The vegetation had retaken the cut cliff, but not the tunnel itself. A rusted chain was strung across the entrance with a faded sign showing a red circle with a bar through it and some kanji. It didn't take a genius to figure out it meant for people not to go in there.
Still, curious, Dave walked up to the chain and looked inside. At first all he saw was darkness then a pin prick of light flared deep inside. A breeze blew through smelling of damp. He saw the flare again and figured the other end was blocked with plants. But there was another end. The tunnel hadn't caved in. Could even be a shortcut back.
There might be some adventure in Japan after all.
The chain rattled as if in warning as he slipped past it into the tunnel.
His steps echoed around him as he moved forward. The light slowly fell behind him, the flickering one at the far end growing more inviting.
About halfway goose bumps peppered his arms and neck as the air turned suddenly cold. Though he was alone he could feel someone's gaze on him from the dark. It was creepy. Suddenly the idea of being bored at the Toriyama's didn't seem half bad. He could try his hand at making paper cranes again. Maybe even make up with his Mom.
Dave turned around to go back. That part of the tunnel was now pitch black. He tried to go back anyway but within a couple of feet ran into a granite wall. That wasn't right. He'd just come through there!
The sound of laughter rose up behind him. He realized he could see the wall, flickering light lighting up the area. Dave turned around.
There were things there. A huge umbrella with a giant mouth and tongue hopping on a human leg. A red colored demon with one horn wearing only a fur loincloth. One was an actual human, or so he thought until the woman her head detached from its body to float above the others tied back to the body by dripping entrails. They were holding torches staring him up and down and walking up close.
Shaking, Dave plastered himself back against the wall. "St, stay away from me! Let me go back!"
A green man with a turtle's mouth and scaly skin shook its head and spoke in heavily accented English. "The sign is out there for a reason, boy. Once you cross into Yomi you cannot leave unless we let you."
"And we've not had foreign food or something interesting happen here in quite some time." The sight of sharp and yellowed teeth flashed all around. "So that won't be happening."
Dave's hair curling scream echoed off the walls of the tunnel as they fell upon him.
Old People
"Dude, I don't know about this…" Rick shuffled his feet, his hand unconsciously rising to wipe the snot away from his abused nose.
"What's there to know?" Ice turned to glare at him, his light blue eyes seeming to glow with the reflected illumination of the park lights.
Rick hunched down a little, putting more of the tree they were hiding by between them. "Still… Old people?"
"Easy pickings, fool." Ice's stare turned cold. "You want a hit and that takes money. You got none. So you've got to help entertain me if you want your fix."
Rick looked away, only too aware of the type of things Ice considered entertainment. Assaulting old people though, that'd be a new low, even for him. It was one thing to let Ice pick on him in exchange for what he needed, but this… His ran his tongue over dry lips; hands shaking at his sides, bottomless need trilling through him. "But they're old, Ice. They're not hurting anyone."
His companion snorted. "That's half the fun right there, idiot. You want the smack or not? I got others needing what I got as much or more than you. And they can pay."
Rick swayed where he stood, the gnawing craving causing panic to shoot up his throat at the thought of not getting what he needed. He'd hate himself later but right now the person he had to take care of was himself. "No, no, man, I'm in."
"That's more like it." Ice's smile was predatory. "Now come on. Those two old farts will never know what hit them." He hefted the bat at his side.
They stuck to the shadows as they made their way around the park toward the concrete game tables in the center. Several of the lights had been busted out by vandals or burned out and never replaced by the city, but the two old men had brought their own with them.
Rick and Ice separated.
Though it was close to summer, both old men were bent over the table wearing heavy coats, caps, and mufflers. They both had on round John Lennon glasses with dark lenses. Really dark lenses. They stared at the board for minutes at a time and then a slow, shuddering hand would clamber up and move one of the pieces.
Taking a deep breath to fortify his courage, Rick stepped out from the bushes and walked their way. "It's really late, isn't it?"
Both men turned ever so slowly in his direction as if having to calculate every movement. "Look, we have company, Mr. C."
"I see that, Mr. L."
Rick hesitated, the voices sending creepy shivers up his arms. It was like hearing old papers rustling out words. The faces turned toward him were wrinkled and dry, as old as dirt.
One of them made a beckoning gesture. "Come on closer, boy."
Something inside Rick screamed at the suggestion. Only his ever increasing need was able to clamp over the urge to run and allowed him to walk a little nearer. "You, you shouldn't be out here, you know? It's not safe."
"Why aren't you the sweetest thing? Worried about us like that." The smile that cracked over the face of Mr. L seemed to be laughing at him. Rick really didn't want to be here anymore.
Keep them distracted, fool. No smack for you if you don't.
Ice's parting words slapped him again. His whole body shook. He'd been without for so long. He would die. He knew he would die if he didn't get more. So he stood his ground. "Can you spare some change?"
He spotted Ice leaving his place of concealment the bat up and ready. Ice rushed forward, aiming for the head of the closest of the two men.
Rick opened his mouth to shout out a warning despite what might later happen to him -- in that one moment forgetting about the hunger inside him. Before he could say anything though, the bat was already moving toward Mr. L's head.
Without turning around, the old man lifted his arm and caught the wood in his palm with a loud whack. The force of the blow half unsettled the old man's glasses exposing his eyes. They were green orbs with an up and down black line. It took Rick a second before his brain started shouting the fact they weren't human.
"I don't know how you did that, old codger, but it's not gonna cut it!" Ice pulled out a switchblade and stabbed at Mr. L while still holding on to the bat. In a blink, Mr. L was no longer sitting, but standing, easily avoiding the blade.
Off balance, Ice let go of the bat to take another swing with the knife. Rick tried to warn Ice this time as the end of the bat moved in a blur to poke him hard in the stomach. Before Ice could fall gagging to the concrete, Mr. C was up and grabbing him by the collar. With a flick of a wrist, Ice's body flew up and thumped with a bone breaking crunch onto the chess table.
Ice screamed and blood gurgled from his mouth. Mr. L tossed the bat aside to the grass then reached inside Ice's jacket. Mr. C smiled and small tentacles played with his teeth as they reached out, as if tasting the air.
"Young man, do you want this?" Mr. L held up a packet of white powder.
Rick shook his head so hard it looked like it might come off. His eyes were wide, soundless screams issuing from his mouth, a dark stain growing on his pants.
"Off you go then."
He was gone before Mr. C finished speaking.
The two men leaned over Ice as life left him. "You should know better than to mess with old people, boy." The tentacles from their mouths reached down to lap the blood on his face. "You won't ever do it again."