Friday, October 25, 2019

Flash Fiction Contest #43


Sometimes, things are not always as they seem...

This Flash Fiction Friday, we invite you to write a <200 word story about either:

A. Something written in a scary tone that turns out to be not so scary after all,

or...

B. Something truly frightening that disguises itself as part of the ordinary

Please submit your responses by Sunday, October 27th at 11:59 EST!

Winner will be announced before that Friday!

Good luck!

3 comments:

  1. I couldn't stop shaking. Even being outside in the park wasn't helping.

    Blair spotted me on a bench and came over. "What's wrong? You're white as a ghost.”

    My voice trembled. “It’s Ryan. He…he….”

    “He what? He’s hurt? He’s missing? He lost a pie eating contest?”

    I know Blair was trying to make me laugh, but it wasn’t helping.

    “You don’t understand. He…” I gulped in some air. He was supposed to be my friend. How could he do something like that. And right in front of…I couldn’t think about it.

    Blair frowned. “I certainly can’t understand if you don’t tell me. Was someone hurt?”

    “Yes.” Why? Why right in front of Spenser Cross? Ryan shouldn’t have done it. “I...I can’t.”

    “Come on,” said Blair. “Split it out.”

    My hands became fists, and my whole body clenched. “He said I’m just like my mother!”

    Blair shrugged. “It’s better than being like mine.”

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  2. The murder wasn’t bloody, but we gawked. Waiting to see who among us came out on top. Attacking one another to change the pecking order. “Brothers and sisters!” I hopped a bit closer to our claim, but not too much. I’m not greedy. “This is our claim. Take what you can. Defend the rest. They will be here soon.”
    Over and over, we promised to stand firm. We always do. Searching the skies, we set to the job.
    Sure enough, the first cadaverous, bald form arrived within hours. Even hunched, it towered, lurching at the claim. They are so much larger than we.
    “Ours!” We shouted. “Ours alone!” A mass clamor of agreement rose like a fluttering black crowd.
    “Flee before death,” it hissed, mantling a dark cloak of feathers.
    “You are one,” I stabbed at his massive feet. Praying my fellows still stood with me in the insult I delivered.
    “You dare threaten?” He screamed, craning his neck.
    No. We are a race of many cowards. We never dare, though I wish otherwise.
    More of his kindred arrived, lumbering at our claim.
    Before the wake of vultures, our murder of crows scattered despite all our brave words.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I jolt awake as something heavy leaps onto the bed, the back of my neck prickles making me aware of being watched. I look up to see a big gaping maw stretching wide above me, drool hanging in rivulets from the pointed fangs. I shrink back in terror from the fetid breath, but still it seeps into my skin, foul and cloying.
    My mind screams as I seek a way to escape, I inch back along the bed but only trap myself against the headboard, my legs becoming tangled in the twisted bed sheets.
    My eyes shift frantically to the bed side table and I see salvation, my fingers latch onto my phone and keeping one eye on the beast, I dial a number. I hear the ringing from the kitchen.
    A harried voice answers, “What is it? The dog got into the rubbish again…”

    ReplyDelete

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