Category: Flash

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Flash Fiction: Go In Disguise

Today’s story is inspired by Know. Your. Fear. by Stéphane (Wootha) Richard.

His vision was blurred. Droplets were on his forehead and when they slide down past his eyes he could see the red of them. There was the sound of something large scrapping along stone. It pulled something from the wall and the sound of metal chains clashed against stone.

If you go down to the woods today…

The thing clasped his feet together with the chains. The cold metal actually felt good against his skin. It beat the thrumming in his head, and the sound of blood in his ears. The large thing started to move away, and the chains rustled as it took a light step.

You’re sure of a big surprise…

He grunted in surprise when the shackles went taunt and the chain started to drag him away from the wall. Arms flailed to grab purchase on the stone but every time he pressed against the ground the thing moved again, throwing him off balance.

If you go down to the woods today…

There was no use trying to scream. They had tied the collar so tied around his neck and the cage around his jaw held him mouth shut. Only guttural grunts of panic and fear while he kept trying to claw at the ground. His fingers were starting to bleed while his legs and back scrapped across the stone.

You’d better go in disguise…

There were more bodies here, where the thing had taken him. Some small, some large, most staring at him. He had wiped the blood from his face when he had given up trying to push himself off the ground, and his vision was slowly returning. Sunlight poured into the stone halls from cracks and boarded up windows, and the occasional torch lit the area in dancing shadows.

For every bear that ever there was…

He could make out their shapes now. They were made of cotton and yarn. Some had no ears, some had large round fluffy things. All of them had eyes of some sort; some buttons, some marbles, and some ripped out. Almost all of them had mouths, but those seemed like after thoughts. Dirty nasty gashes like someone had taken a knife to the fabric.

Will gather there for certain…

They pulled him into a large chamber. So many of them had gathered in the chamber, and lined the walls until there was a circle for them to bring him. He could see the light pouring from a hole in the ceiling, and it was burning his eyes.

Because today’s the day the…

His feet touched something wet and he looked down to see the scattered pieces of others. Not the stuffed things that closed ranks behind him. Arms and legs and pieces of people. There were skulls, but some still had faces, still had eyes he recognized. Faces that had gone missing months ago. Faces the school had put posters up about. They lay strewn about a pool of coagulating blood.

Teddy Bears have their picnic…

She was there, in the middle of them. The large bear that had dragged him into the room had given the chain to her. She was pale, with pointy features, and ripped flesh. Where there were claw marks and gashes across her body there were stiches of twine and chains. He couldn’t see her face behind the heavy mask she wore, but the sound coming from her wasn’t human. Blood coated her feet and legs as she kneeled in the blood, and between them rested on the crimson stones was a knife. She yanked the chain to pull him closer while reaching down.

I recommend reading while listening to the below:

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Flash Fiction: A Slayer To Come

Today’s story is inspired by Dragon Empress by Michelle Monique.

“You came all this way to see me?” She said. She called herself serpent queen, but she bore no dragon blood. I knew such things; I could sense it. Though she commanded the wyrms, they didn’t do so out of respect. The truth lied in the orb before her thorn.

She was a gile, something like a humanoid reptile. Her skin was scaled and horned, but she bore the features of mammals, with an armored bosom covered only by a leather corset and gown. The leather looked bovine, but I could see where strips of draconic skin had been used for seams and wyrm gut for stitching. Her attire was smart. I’ll give her that. The gut and skin would lend her power, but if the entire dress was made of the draconic flesh she would be their pawn instead. The throne she sat on was also covered in cow leather, although wyrm knuckles made up the arms and a pair of collar bones supported the back. The entire display was setup to channel dragon energy without it consuming her.

“Tell me, dragon-slayer. Are you here to kill me, or just my children?”

“Both,” I said. “Your dragons defile the land, and your will is the cause. But more than anything, I’m going to destroy that rock of yours.”

The orb was sitting on a pedestal the queen could reach by leaning forward enough in her chair. It rested on a velvet cushion, a red nearly identical to the tone of the underside of the queen’s gown. The orb wasn’t smooth or polished, but it was refined. Were it a perfected orb the fight to come would not likely go in my favor. These hearts were powerful and they lent energy to the dragons effected by them. The more it was perfected the better the results, but it took a skilled hand to smooth the stone without shattering it. This serpent queen did not have such a skilled craftsman, thankfully.

“You boast too much for my liking, slayer. But, I am generous. I know there are others like me out there in control of their own armies. To have an agent like you to assist me against them would be most beneficial, don’t you think?” She smiled, revealing two rows of razor sharp teeth. That was cosmetic. Gile have teeth like men, and while some are sharp, most are reasonable like in any animal. I hope it had hurt to do that to herself.

“Are you so blind?” I asked. “My presence alone is weakening your hold on your wyrms. Time enough and I’d drain your little stone and they’d try to consume us both.”

It was a bluff. The charms I wore were weakening the influence of the heart but never enough to break the hold she’d have. I needed her to attack me first though. That’s how my sword, Bitter, worked. It would act as a normal blade were I to attack someone first, but if someone else were to strike at me the blade hastened my movements against them. It was not a blade for someone who would sneak about.

The queen looked to her orb and the four young wyrms in the room with us. I could see her faith in the artifact fading. Now, if she just took the bait.

Her command to the wyrm might have been mental, but she nodded when she gave the command. The pressure changed around me as the large form tried to crash into where I had been standing. Bitter had already commanded me to unsheathe her, and by the time I realized she had me jump I was already coming down on the wyrm’s head. The strike was perfect, hitting between the bone just above the eye socket, where the optic nerve and the brain could be hit from a vertical attack. My blade severed the creature’s sight and its ability to breath in one stroke. I stepped off just as it’s bleeding brain screamed at its body to rise and try to gasp for air. Its head swept past my back as it moved back in a panic. The perfect blow. It would die in moments once it finished suffocating.

The queen looked terrified, and I could feel the emotions of the dragons around me wash the area with fear, confusion, and awe. I flicked the blood and brain matter from Bitter and pointed the blade at the orb.

“Now then, Serpent Queen, I must fulfill my oath.”

Not much to say about today’s fiction other than to point out how total bad-ass that photography is from the inspiration.

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Flash Fiction: Golden Fields

“Where you able to find the way?”

Bryan smiled.

“Am I not here?”

Roland gave him a playful shove and the brothers laughed at their joke. It felt good to laugh, especially in these darker times. The days were full of sadness, and the loss of a great friend and leader weighed heavily on each of the brothers’ mind. They were heading west, to the great city by the coast. There they would meet with the rest of their party. Gal had suggested the gathering after the past night’s events, and each of the group travelled along the salt coast to find those who would honor the fallen and to prepare the gathering. Roland and Bryan would be the last to arrive, having spent the night in the home of their fallen leader. His parents, shadowed and heartbroken, declined to travel with them. They would honor their lost son in their own way.

“Do you believe these events are occurring, Roland?” Bryan asked.

The western sun blinded them a moment as they crested the last large hill towards the coastal city. Here the golden color stretched across fields and small hills until reaching the outskirts of the city. Clay and brick took on masks of light and shadow until the city hugged the sea and the entire body of water looked ablaze with fire.

“With the miracles I have seen, no, I have a hard time coming to grips with these days, brother.”

They paused there a moment, watching clouds pull in and dance before the sun. At first only the wind joined them but soon the sound of sandals on the pressed dirt of the road joined the soundscape. The figure coming up the hill was tall, lean, and filled the men with warmth as he was washed in the sun’s light.

“My fellows, why do you idle on the road towards the sea?” the new arrival asked.

“We pause for reflection, my friend,” Bryan said. “The evening’s beauty inverts the mirror of the darkness of these past days.”

The new arrival raised his brow.

“Darkness you say? While I see cloud I do not recall it hiding the sun or basking us in shade for more than a few minutes of leisure.”

Roland chuckled, “No. Not true darkness, but we have lost one of our great men of the world. He was taken from us, judged, punished for his light, and slain. My brother and I go to the great city to morn him.”

“It seems you walk with a shadow over you then. I would walk with you, if you’d have me. Perhaps I may grant some light over these shades.”

The brothers both nodded.

“Certainly, fellow traveler. Thought he is lost to us; his words are not. He would have you walk with him as a brother, and so join us as a brother.”

They continued down the road, towards the great coastal city and its glowing rooftops. Where two brothers walked in the shadow of loss, three walked forward in the light together.

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Flash Fiction: Swarm Bonds

Today’s story is inspired by Bloop, by Ian Jun Wei Chiew

“The site is beautiful. When did it get commissioned?” Rav was moving towards the stream that ran through the site. The crisp ruby color of the water was glowing, and it illuminated many of the nearby spires.

“About two weeks ago. Architect designed it on a dare from the Second High Magistrate.” Wess was the escort for the sortie, and had brought Rav here to review the work the Crafters had completed several hours ago. “They worked through the weekend and I must inform you, they used your swarms.”

Rav paused, taking his vision away from the rounded metal hills and floating spires around the site. He pointed to himself and Wess nodded.

“You’re joking! Mine? The Second High Magistrate’s private crafters used my swarms to make this?” He cheered and looked at the site again in deeper admiration. “This is a dream. I just know it. I’m in my holo-suite with a downloaded dream.”

Wess laughed.

“No. No, little Hatcher, you’re not. The life you brought to existence has proven its worth.”

Rav had fallen to his knees, and was looking at the bank of the water. The ground was a glass like material. From a distance it looked smooth but up close he could see it was crumpled into multiple little hexagon shaped tiles. This gave the surface grip while near-perfectly reflecting the ruby light of the glowing stream.

“Look! Here,” he said. “There’s my markings! How did I not see that earlier?” He was indicating a small chip in each of the hexagons. It was a series of bumps that would be missed by the naked eye, but all Hatchers programed their swarms with some signature. Rav choose the world pattern lines where a thread of his genetic imprint could be found.

“Perfection, my pupil. Truly. The Second High Magistrate is pleased. Not just with the Architect’s quick design or his Crafter’s work, but with the stability of your swarm. The Architects are already working on another project for her, and they are working closely with the Crafters. They also want to work closely with you.”

Rav gasped, and looked to his guide.

“Wess, I. They want me for another project? So soon? I thought they preferred to source many swarms.”

“Of course they do. But the Second High Magistrate is more conservative. She likes to work with what has proven to work. Which is why you are officially informed of your promotion to chief Hatcher of Triforn-Three.”

That was it. Rav felt consciousness escape him a moment and nearly fell flat on the ground before the swarm lifted up and caught him. The ground curved and then lifted until he was in a seated position when Wess came over to him, laughing.

“Are you okay?” Wess said between chuckles.

“Chief Hatcher of an entire planet? Wess. Wess, I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You are, my pupil. You are. You’ve earned this. I’ve seen your swarm. I’m standing on the fruits of it as we speak. Your creations are ready to do more than just design a beautiful garden that will be torn down the next time some official gets bored. They’re ready to take part in building an entire world.”

He looked at Rav and smiled, then leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“You have come so far since I first met you as a little birth. My pupil, I am so happy of you. From the small little world we come from, you now move to design a giant. I couldn’t ask for more. I couldn’t be more proud.”

The swarm helped Rav lift up and as he caught his bearings he looked around once more. The design of this garden wasn’t his. The exact building wasn’t either, but the heart of the works belongs to the strength of his creation. His sigil was on every stream bank, every plant, every standing spire. It was a fraction of what was to come, of a world built by the labors of his brain. He looked to Wess and beamed. He could do it. He knew it now. It was time for him to prove his worth.

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Flash Fiction: Setting The Sails

Today’s story was inspired by photography by Gary Clutterbuck. Like most inspiration for flash fiction, I found the original inspiration picture on Deviant Art.

The smile wasn’t fueled by knowing she was right. That helped, but it wasn’t the heart of the happiness. It was also being supporting by the magistrate. After ten years of sky calling, they had finally chosen Delia to be their spear. Today they had granted her captain status of The Anvil, the fastest combat vessel for the entire magistrate fleet, and she’d need that speed in the task assigned to her. In four hours The Anvil would be sent off to locate and find the rogue caller, Arana Forge, her sister.

“Captain on deck,” a young ensign said as she approached the birthing pod for The Anvil. The group of sailors pulling themselves into ranks and stood at attention, awaiting her approach. Their uniforms were sleek and black things, worn for armor protection but to also channel each of their natural abilities to manipulate gravity around them. The uniforms shared the same material of the hull of the magistrate’s ships, allowing a crew to keep a vessel aloft for days at a time if needed. Her own dress was informal, and designed more like the uniforms worn back in the day ships like The Anvil were designed. More elegant and wavy and less pressed and military. The style wasn’t preferred by the magistrate’s navy, but it helped her channel far more than the simple standardized uniforms.

“At ease,” she said, her voice carrying over the sounds of the maintenance and crews beyond the berth they stood in. Her crew lowered their arms and folded them behind their back in one quick motion. “Good,” she thought, “a seasoned crew.”

“At ten-hundred hours, The Anvil and crew will be departing Port Saint Georgette. We aim for the maelstrom colonies, southern coast. Our mission is the retrieval of the rogue clipper, His Open Trust. This ship is crewed by the rogue caller, Arana Forge. And yes, before any of you ask, that is my sister. We will aim to take her alive, but in the interest of the magistrate, her navy, and her people we will not settle for an escape of this rogue agent even if that means Arana’s death. Are we understood?”

“Yes sir,” the crew said in unison.

“Good. I want this ship sky worthy within two hours. Ensign?”

The same young man took a step forward then twisted on his heel to the gathered sailors.

“Crew, dismissed!”

The sailors broke ranks and moved back to their work posts. The ensign turned back to his captain.

“Captain, Ensign Karn Flown, we should have no problem having her sky worthy within the hour. Are you hoping to depart early, sir?”

“No,” Delia said. “I want the crew ready to go but I want us to share a meal before we go.”

“Sir?” the ensign said. Delia looked to his uniform.

“Consider it a family tradition handed to me from my parents. Before a long journey or an important event, they always fed us to comfort us. As this will be this crew’s first time hunting what was once a friendly vessel and possibly friends and for me family, it will be both a hard journey and a hard task to complete. Besides, warm food on a morning like this wouldn’t hurt, wouldn’t you say, Ensign Flown?”

The ensign was writing something down but nodded. He looked up when he realized he was expected to answer.

“Oh, yes Captain Forge. Of course, sir.”

“What are you writing down?”

“Orders for the cook, sir. I assume you’re looking to have something a little special compared to our normal chow, so I’m preparing him an order for stock to pull from our berth’s store.”

“Ah, a sailor who thinks on the move and the future contents of his stomach. Excellent. Carry on then, I’ll be in my quarters. Dismissed.”

Ensign Flown saluted Delia, and hurried to a few men and women gathering supplies near the rear of the ship. The captain watched as they took and read the orders from the Ensign. From this distance it looked like they chuckled. She let it go and headed towards the boarding rope for the ship.

The Anvil rested in its berth, wings and arms held up by the large iron and steel beams of the warehouse. The ship was a sleek clipper, built to catch the wind while having her sky callers direct her. Most ships consisted of a set of large wings built to the sides of the vessel, and sails on the top and bottom of the vessel to catch the wind and help the callers on board guide the ship gently through the air. The anvil was different. She was built in segmented cones, each ending in a wide sail that could be fanned out to catch the wind but quickly pulled back under light armored plating. She wouldn’t be able to handle a heavy barrage, but she was designed to be fast enough to not have to. The weave of sky stone in her hull would let a team of skilled sky callers press her forward at incredible paces, although she could see immediately that long battles would be hard in the ship. It would demand much from her crew in combat, and require long periods of rest afterwards.

She took the boarding rope in hand and focused on her dress. The sky stone built into it begin to glow lightly as her natural talents fueled them. Escaping gravity, she used the rope to pull herself up. Traditional ships like her previous vessel, The Promise of Dawn, were decked ships, meaning they had large areas on the top or bottom of the ship that sailors could stand in the open air. The Anvil didn’t have such a space, at least not in the front or on the bulk of the ship. It was a sealed ship, with its hull coating all sides of the ship space and the only access points being hatches built every one-hundred-and-twenty degrees. The boarding rope was attached to one of these panels, and Captain Delia entered her new vessel for the first time.

I’m toying with this story. Unlike most of the flash fiction here, this piece has ended up in my serial fiction folder. The concept of the story sort of took off (pun intended), and I’d like to see what Captain Delia Forge does in the hunt for her rogue sister. I wonder if she can actually carry through with killing her or if family will win out over national loyalty. We’ll see. If I do end up exploring her fate, I’ll update this and future stories in the series as official serial fiction.

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Flash Fiction: Rainbow

“Are you kidding me?” Ace said over the comms. We were travelling as quickly as the blades would let us, but the winged suits just couldn’t match the speed of the target. “How is it going so fast?”

“Something other than traditional propulsion?” Jeevan offered. “We’re going pretty fast ourselves.”

“Yes, but you’re wearing the latest in Iconica, Alpha-1,” Leoncio said back at the tower. “I’m not reading anything radioactive besides you three, so it’s not Praeter Hominum. Nothing tech either.”

“Don’t say it,” Ace said.

They were sweeping across the landscapes of central Yzamire. The land was uninhabited for the most part, and served as the wing’s current training and testing grounds. It was during one of these routine tests that Marina spotted the rainbow pattern in the distance. Leoncio confirmed the radar hit, but couldn’t confirm what it was. By then the three of them, Marina, Jeevan, and Ace, were in pursuit.

“Can you get the locals to scramble something our way?” Marina asked.

“Negative. They don’t want anything to do with our territory. Something about the feedback from you three screwing up their jets. Unless this thing started to become a problem to their citizens, they won’t touch it near us.”

“Great, ‘I’m sorry we took too long to help you, we figured the super heroes could handle something insane.’ That makes me feel comfortable,” Ace said. “I’m going to try to increase my burn. Jeevan, got my left?”

“I’ve got your left, Ace.”

“Ugh, I really wish you wouldn’t say super heroes,” Marina said. She had moved to the rear of them. Ace’s maneuver should bolt him forward as he pushed his energies into the wing suit. Jeevan’s projection would help with sling shooting him forward. It was the maneuver they had been practicing all week.

“Oh, get off it, Marina. They think anyone with powers is some sort of costume wearing idiot. Ours just happens to be para-military. Adjusting, now.”

Ace’s metal wings flared as his energy surged through the wings. Jeevan’s sleek form dived in behind him and a radiant shield started to form around her. Ace tilted, and the shield streaked out small tendrils of power against his wings. Both projections flared and the flying man zipped ahead.

“Alright, I’m gaining on the target. Leon, you have my feed?”

“Confirm, Alpha-2. I do. But you don’t want to hear what I’m reading, remember?” Leoncio said.

“I hate magic,” Marina said. “So unpredictable.”

The rainbow colored form grew larger as Ace approached it. They had already observed from a distance the object wasn’t flying right, but now Ace struggled to understand it’s flight at all. It wasn’t moving constantly, rather it was stopping then moving like a video that was buffering. It would stay still for a second then fling itself forward at an incredible pace. Its body wasn’t built for flight either, lacking wings, propeller, turbines, or anything else that enabled human flight. It was like it didn’t care that it should be falling.

“This thing is hurting my head,” Ace said.

“Alpha-2, let’s not approach any further,” Leoncio said. “If that’s something mystical, I’d want to get the Corporal on it.”

“The kid? You want the kid near this thing? I don’t think so,” Marina said.

“Can it, Marina. Leoncio, confirmed. I agree with your assessment. Ace, pull back.” Jeevan said.

“Sure thing, once you tell it to let me go.” He had felt the tug once he could see the strange square box properly. It was a flying a brick, with arcane carvings all over the surface. This was the source of the radiant light as most of the sigils glowed in different colors so bright they were visible in the mid-day sun. Its jaunts were getting slower and he could feel it pulling him too it faster and faster.

“Come again, Alpha-2?”

“I’ve been trying to slow down but my readings show I’m accelerating. I’m only putting enough energy into my wings to keep me aloft. I think the box is curious about me too.”

“Can you dive?” Jeevan asked.

“Let me try.”

It was like moving against a thick syrup. He shifted his wings down and pushed with as much energy as he could project into the wings. They flared as the lights on the ship also flared. An emotion of frustration and annoyance washed over him before he felt himself jerking away from the vessel. It accelerated it’s spacial skipping pace as he broke away. By the time he recovered, it was already a spec on the horizon.

“You okay?” Marina asked, flying close to him.

“Yeah, I am. I just wish I knew what they wanted with me.”

“Well, get ready, Alpha-2,” Leoncia said. “My readings show it’s turning around.”