Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing. We’ve reached our Sixth year of weekly prompts! This is Week 359 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook and the Group on MeWe.
Need the rules? Read on.
Here’s how it works:
- The prompt is a line from the previous week’s winning tale.
- The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
- The prompt must be used as is. It can be split, but no intervening words can be inserted or tenses changed.
Rules to the Game:
- This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
- The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added.
- Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
- Post your story in the comments section of this post
- Include your word count in the post (or be excluded from judging)
- Include your Twitter handle or email in the post (so we don’t have to look for you)
- The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time
- The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up.
How it benefits you:
- You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we’re all about promotion – you know you are!)
- You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
- Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, MeWe, and Google Plus, etc.
Our Judge for Week 359:
The Writing Procrastinator (Master Level), Kaylee Haynes.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
The Prompt:
“I thought I was alone.”
All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!
November 14, 2007, the night Battlestar Galactica: Razor, the movie, first aired. I was a huge fan of the show, and could not wait to put the movie on the DVD player. There I was, glued to the sofa that night, oblivious to everything, as I watched. I even let the kids stay up late to watch with me, which did not make my wife happy. But, she knew how much I liked the show, and she knew I’d clean the kitchen, and wash the dishes before I crashed for the night.
It was great! I loved it. The humans and the Cylons, duking it out again. Bullets everywhere. Spaceships everywhere. I was having a great time. And then, that scene came on, where Kendra Shaw meets the leader of the Cylons, who tells her, just before she blows up everything, “All this has happened before.”
That night, I had the first nightmare. Where I saw great cities suddenly swamped by a wall of water, while others burned to ashes in the glow of nuclear blasts. And a group of rich, powerful men sat around a table, and looked at their leader who said, “I thought I was alone,” as everyone at the table stared at him, and he continued, “But I was wrong. They were there. Waiting.” He’d looked at each person at the table, then said, “This has all happened before,” and with that, the room super-heated, and the shock wave from a nuclear blast obliterated everything.
247 Words
@mysoulstears
That Day
None of us knew, of course, what might happen.
Some of us gathered in small groups throughout the day. Others, the more distant, the introverted, many of them writers of made-up stories, you know the type, the isolates who rarely leave their caves or, if they do venture out, seek some form of collective human experience, say, visit a café, sit off in a corner, stare out into the space of the city, or the town, look for all the world like they are thinking, “I thought I was alone,” thinking, “ more so than ever, I am sure,” may in fact be all alone because they only know how to talk to themselves, creative chunks of conversations chattering away in their bookish heads, their imaginary universes, useless artists, though some may be more tolerant of them than I, for I have seen them step away from the world of man, all my life witness their episodic urges to record that which they are not a part of, observers, reporters, separate from the mass of humanity, all the rest of us who must live day to day lives, the messy little bits of love and hate that comprise a life lived.
And so, when I think of them, seeing only the filter that is their solitary experience, crying out, Garbo like “I thought I was alone,” on this day when the Sun fades forever, when the world explodes in darkness, I ask, of what use were you?
Writers!
250 words
@billmelaterplea
I stared at my knuckles. The tree bark had shredded my skin and blood oozed through swollen flesh. The deliberate snap of a dry branch brought my head up even though I didn’t meet the gaze of the man now standing beside me.
“What were you thinking?” Hardass growled. “Oh, wait. You weren’t thinking at all.”
He was wrong. I’d been thinking too hard, with too much shit floating around in my head.
“You gonna say anything?”
“I thought I was alone.” Talk about a non sequitur. But I was alone. I’d sent Jen packing. Okay, she’d left because I didn’t ask her to stay. Same thing. I rubbed at the ache in my chest and winced.
“Stupid fucker,” Hardy groused.
Pushing me to the ground, he squatted beside me. Only then did I notice his med kit. Hardy had been an army combat medic and served as the MC’s first line of medical care. If he couldn’t fix us, with the help of our Wolf gene, then he called in the Doc.
He poured saline solution over my battered hands, then hit me with the hydrogen peroxide. He wasn’t gentle, not that I expected such treatment.
“Where is she?” His gaze remained on my hands.
“Gone.”
“You really are a stupid fucker.”
“Probably.”
“She’s your mate.”
“Not anymore.”
He shook his head. “We don’t get to choose, Wizard. No matter how hard we wish it was different.”
She’d die if I claimed her. I walked away. End of story.
****
250 Night Wish (Nightrider MC) WIP words
@SilverJames_
Maybe it was a mistake to ask for help, to pull Nate into this. But just thinking about him makes me wish I sought help sooner. At my father’s company, I thought I was alone. That I was the only one against the military contracts. I wasn’t, but no one else chose to leave with me. That loneliness still stung.
Even my family…
“Selah?” His voice breaks through my thoughts. When I say nothing, he comes closer. Nate cups my face, catching my tears with his thumbs. I never even felt them fall.
“I’m so sorry.”
He lets me cry.
100 WIP words
@katheryn_avila
Chloe
I thought I was alone. I was so very, wrong. The old house was still aside from the creak of worn floorboards and drip of the taps. I loved it there, reminiscing about time playing here with her, as a child. We’d run around the halls of peeling paper, chasing imaginary ghosts. Squealing at the rats, laughing as we played in each of the dusty old rooms. I…
The truck driver never saw her, he killed and took her from me, when we were fifteen. Every afternoon since, I’d come back here to our favourite place. Today it was different. I smelt her permeating the damp and dust first. Freesia and peony perfume, wafting to me from the ether. I sat in the old rocking chair, waiting. It began to move on its own. I heard her then, that playful laugh sending shivers down my spine. “Chloe, I hear you!” my voice came, a quavering whisper. Footsteps raced down the hall always returning to me, not a soul was to be seen. A face in the mirror, I was up in a flash, my heart beating for her.
“I love you,” she breathed in my ear. I felt her energy embrace me, her lips brushing against mine, gentle and chilling. Ethereal hands caressed my body, touches of pure electricity. My heart gave in, my body fell. Yet my soul remained, there was Chloe holding my hand. Together we went to the light loving each other forever, as we did before.
250 words- entry by Mason Bushell @MBWorkhouse -twitter and facebook
Brian thought his heart would crack in two mangled pieces at Oshi’s dismissive smile, but he swallowed hard and buckled down for a concentrated campaign. Oshi had been hurt – by me – and he wasn’t going to trust empty words or gifts. It’s do-or-die time, Marine. He couldn’t let one setback derail his objective.
“I understand you expect me to tuck tail and run, but I’m a Marine, and we don’t run.”
Oshi snorted. “You ran before.”
“No, I just didn’t advance or pursue.” He set the basket down on the kitchen counter and faced Oshi. “But I heard what you said and I thought it over. You’re right. I’ve never been with someone like you. And what I mean by that is I’ve never loved anyone. I never felt it. I’m not sure I can even explain what it feels like to me. I have no reference point to compare.”
Brian stepped closer to Oshi, enjoying the lipstick brightening his lips and the sundress showing off his legs. “I didn’t realize I could feel anything like this until I met you. You bring color to my gray and camouflage world. You make scents stronger and light brighter. No one makes me feel or see or smell or hear anything like you do, Oshi. I need you. I need your beauty and color and texture. And I love you, as you are. Please give me a second chance.”
Oshi swallowed hard. “I thought I was alone in my feelings.”
“Not anymore.”
250 ineligible #WIP365 #UltimateRecon words
@SiobhanMuir
I thought I was alone, in my house, in the dark, in my bed. I thought I was alone, free to do whatever I wanted to do. Free to think whatever I wanted to. But as soon as I thought of her, gone now these 24 hours, she was there in my head. As soon as I pictured her face, her smile, heard her gentle words and her angry words, her laugh and her screams, she was there next to me. I thought I was alone for the first time in decades, well and truly alone, but she would never leave me. Not in this life nor the next. I thought I was alone, but as I thought of her hands, broken and bleeding as she tried to claw at my hands wrapped around her neck, I felt her touch. It was subtle at first, then increased in pressure. I thought I was alone but she was there with me, back from the dead, back to take revenge. I thought I was alone but her fingers pressed hard down on my eyes until all I could see was red and there was nothing for me to grab on to I thought I was alone but then my eyeballs ruptured first the left and then the right and I screamed and the blood ran into my mouth I thought I was alone when I killed her but she came back and now we are together forever.
245 words
@drmag00
You’ll leave tonight. Take the train. It’s easier. The stop at the far side isn’t far from the meeting place.
You’ll leave tonight. It will all be explained once you reach your destination. There’s an area on the pier, a fine viewing point of the beach, a wonderful sea breeze and you can take in the ocean smell. You could perhaps check it out if you arrive early for your appointment.
You’ll leave tonight. Don’t ask me why. If I understood it all fully myself, I would give you the answers. The fact is, I don’t know why. Ours is not to question when we go. But you need to go tonight.
You’ll leave tonight. You’ll be met by a man in a beanie. He will look like a member of the homeless community, right down to a deadness in his deep hazel-brown eyes. He’s practiced at his role. You won’t need to worry. You can hand over your delivery to him. That’s all you’ll have to do. But after that, you will disappear.
You’ll leave tonight, because if you don’t leave tonight, for good – for the good of society – we’ll forever regret your involvement in this entire project.
You’ll leave tonight, never to contact anyone from your past life ever again. And if you make contact with someone, you’ll receive a visitor. And no matter how much you beg and plead, no matter how much you say “I thought I was alone”, it will be too late for you.
250 words
@ragtaggiggagon
The cheerful pageant official trundled on stage. “Hello and welcome contestants and friends. We are going to start with a quick introduction. We’ll go alphabetically by state and you can each come up on stage with your entourage. Introduce yourself and each member of your group.”
Drew and the rest of them watched closely as each state was called out. When they got to Colorado and no one went on stage, there was a whispered conversation.
The MC finally said, “The Colorado contestant has not shown up and we haven’t heard anything from her. That’s very unusual, we’ve never had a no show before.”
Drew and his brother exchanged a glance. They all moved just a little closer to Lily, he saw her shiver, so he placed his hand on the small of her back.
She whispered, “I thought I was alone.”
“Guess not.”
Nothing else out of the ordinary happened until they got to Wyoming. The candidate for that state said that she was the alternative and that the real Ms. Wyoming was in the hospital from a rather severe accident.
When they got to Ms. Utah, she had a bodyguard with her also, and he remembered that there was just a tiny corner of Utah that touched the Rockies.
It looked to him like they had a pattern, but why the Rocky Mountain states contestants were being targeted he had no idea. He hoped they could figure that out before anything else happened.
245 words – From my WIP – Trusting Drew
@shirley_penick
Aiiieeee! Not Wyoming! 😀
The skyscape set before her is so breathtaking, Sera must constantly remind herself to breathe .
“How did I get so lucky?” Sera has asked herself this question a hundred times a day for the past six months.
Qualifying to be among the first group to settle Kradon was a dream come true for Sera, even though it meant leaving behind everything and everyone she knew. Watching the skyscape change from black to purple to red to blue and back to black over a brief thirty minutes never grows old.
“Sera?”
Startled, Sera turns suddenly towards the voice.
“Oh! I thought I was . . .”
“. . . alone?”
Sera is unable to place the voice and the speaker keeps to the shadowed corner.
Puzzling over the voice, Sera asks, “Can I help you with something?”
The speaker steps towards her, “Leo! What’s going on? I didn’t recognize you.”
Sera catches Leo as he falls against her, “Leo!”
“Sera. . . run. They’re coming.”
The eerie silence finally registers on Sera.
“What? Who?” She is unable to form a coherent thought.
As she leans to check on Leo, Sera hears the unmistakable metal on metal clinking and sliding, “How did they find us here?”
Heart racing, Sera begins to run. But to where? She can’t leave the station.
Smelling the rancid metal, Sera hurries into the hold, locking it behind her. She slides down the ladder, hoping they won’t find her, yet knowing they will.
“Goodbye,” she whispers.
249 words
@teresameccles
Igni twirled the magma locks around her fingers as she hid behind the stones, fingers slowly melting hholds as she spied on the cold village. They were doing something that was fun. And laughing. The mini people running around, playing.
She didn’t have anyone to play with. Going further towards them would melt the frost that coasted the ground and have them yell at her. Her lower lip pushed out and she dropped down into the hot water, moving back towards the blackened ground and towards the lava pool. She wished she had someone to talk to. It was lonely. She had learned from the pink people that being too closer to the volcano wasn’t healthy. They wore masks and ran when the ashen cloud burped out of the mountain top.
Igni oozed into the lava pool. She had spent too much time outside of the mountain. Watching something she couldn’t participate in. The longer she was out, the more effort it took to get back.
“They aren’t worth your time. They don’t appreciate the burning heat like we do.”
She slowly rose her head up and peered over the ledge at the firey lizard that was a long as she was tall.
“We are people of flame. It is our nature to be in solitude.”
“I thought I was alone.” She crept forward, leaving red trails of heat behind her. “That there was no one like me.”
“I’m here.”
240 Words
@solimond
Never Alone
Eve stood watching as the motorcycles crested the hill and began the descent towards her home. She felt her spine harden like steeland she knew— this was where it would end. One way or another she was walking out alone, or she was going to be carried out. There was no middle ground with these men, and there was no middle ground for her. She’d fought hard for this land and there was no way in hell she was going to curl up and let the jackals have it.
The wind blew cold against her skin and she could feel the goosebumps rise. She shouldered her shotgun, ready for what would come next: motions of a parley, veiled threats and then the fight would be on her.
She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, and despite her better intentions, it turned into a yawn.
‘I have got to get more sleep,’ she thought to herself, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen as long as the likes of James Landrey and his hired goons roamed the land.
She waited until the bikes neared the front gate, but as she strode forward she noticed several men detach themselves from the shadows. She looked at the men, spotting their leader long before he headed towards her.
“I thought I was alone,” she said, her fist clenched. He did not get to play the hero after leaving her here.
“You should know by now— that’s never going to happen.”
250 Words (not including title)
@mishmhem
Damn, I thought, from the floor next to the sofa. I thought I was alone.
“What are you doing down there?” Ivy’s eyes were wide with amusement.
“You might have announced your arrival, Ivy. You scared the crap out of me.”
Whatever made me think having a vampire roommate was no big deal?
“Wait till you hear what I found out about Sling,” Ivy said.
Ivy and I were independent bounty hunters. She had gone into the city on a tip about the master vampire we were stalking. Sling ran the popular club, Bloodletting. He was also responsible for much of the illegal stuff going on in Pittsburgh.
“Are you okay, Ayren?” Ivy ran her eyes over me. Sexual tension I felt when we met was returning.
“Do you have to make a hushed entry every time you come in, Ivy?”
“I’m a vampire, Ayren. That’s how we enter a room.”
Ivy’s gaze was making the implication obvious. She could have easily killed me if she had wanted to.
“You really should study up on the guide I gave you, Ayren.”
“So what did you uncover about Sling?” I said.
“He’s got a weakness for beautiful redheads.”
I was about to object, but she stopped me.
“Well, then I guess there’s only one way to bring him down.”
I knew what she meant and it scared the hell out of me. Ivy had all the supernatural skills of a vampire, but she was no match for a master vampire.
250 Words
@cate_derham
I thought I was alone. Finally. But I couldn’t have been any more wrong.
Even in solitary confinement I wasn’t alone. If it wasn’t the demons in my head whispering to me to gouge the eyes out of the next aid that came to my cell with my bare hands, it was the ghosts of previous crazies constantly zipping in and out of the walls.
I should note I was /not/ one of /those/ crazies.
They screamed like they were put through wood chippers while still alive. Babbled deliriously and played mind games that only the certifiably insane could fathom to follow. They had a wicked sense of humor.
Humor I adored.
I never could comprehend why those deemed normal balked at it. Why to them it was morbid and inhumane. Perhaps that’s why they labeled me a psychopath, why they condemned me to spend the rest of my days in this white room with bright lights. Didn’t they care about my need for darkness to sleep?
I mean really now. What was the point of sentencing me to twenty consecutive life sentences in a maximum security asylum far off the grid when I could only live one of those sentences to term?
Then again, I nearly laughed, there was that pesky little spiritual belief called reincarnation.
I’d be back. One day.
If not in this lifetime, then in the next. And next time, oh next time…
Next time I would know in my soul how not to get caught.
~*~*~*~*~
250 creepy psychopathic ramblings
@DaelynMorgana
The night closed in on Persi. Its inky embrace a welcome respite from the bright lights and pounding music of the dingy nightclub behind her. She inhaled the fresh clean air.
Why did she keep returning to this dive? Not once since her sister’s disappearance five years ago had she seen a trace of Selene. No one had. No one even remembered her, except . . .
Me.
“What brings a dame like you here?”
The gravelly voice startled Persi, and she spun, her hand closing over the goblin bone hilt of her sword. She relaxed. When danger threatened, it warmed her palm.
“No need for that. I’m not going to hurt you. Your kind just don’t come around places like these.” The grizzled old man’s obsidian eyes swallowed any light. Weathered ebony skin spoke of the years he’d spent in the Chuksa desert, but no white marred his black hair.
“I thought I was alone.”
“I expected better of you, Persi Zat.”
Tension crawled across Persi’s shoulders. “How do you know my name?”
“I know many things, but I didn’t come here for that. I came to tell you that Selene is alive and well.”
She drew her sword and held it against his neck. “Where is she?”
The old man didn’t even flinch. “Safe. She’ll find you when she’s ready.”
“But—“
A cool wind whipped off the desert, and he was gone.
She stared at the stars overhead. “Until we meet again, sis.”
She strode away, leaving the nightclub behind.
249 words
@MarciBaun
Her primal shriek reverberated through the cave as Jinx punched through a limestone column. Quickly the roar of the waves outside muted the echoes of her scream and the falling rocks. She didn’t feel any better.
“Wow…”
A flat voice from the back of the cave caused Jinx to raise her fists reflexively. Reclined against the far wall a gorgeous dark haired woman appeared to be on at least her third day in her silk evening dress.
“Natazla?” Jinx lowered her hands sheepishly. “I thought I was alone.”
The older woman sighed, “I get that a lot.”
Putting her back to cold stone, Jinx slid down to a seated position. She examined her knuckles, skinned from her sloppy shatter of the stone.
“Can I talk to you?”
Natazla grunted with a shrug that seemed to reach the limit of her will to move.
“If you’d like…”
The young woman leaned her head back and watched condensation drip from the cave ceiling.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel stuck, and don’t know what I should do.”
Natazla studied Jinx with eyes darker than the shadows blanketing her.
“What does she say?”
“Who?”
“The woman who murdered your mother… What do you call her?”
“Mom…” Jinx cringed at Natazla’s perspective. “She says I’m doing well and should be happy with my progress.”
Natazla nodded.
“She’s not wrong. No one else can tell you who you are, but if you keep looking, you’ll find your own answers.”
247 words
@DavidALudwig
A ragged sob drew me into the hospital chapel. I followed the sound to find Tae-woon sitting behind the altar.
“Hey, kiddo,” I said. “You need a shoulder?”
“What?” Tae’s head jerked up, his midnight dark eyes wide. “Shoulder?”
“To cry on.” I tapped my left. “I’ve got one available. Two, if you’re picky about it.”
“I’m sorry, Doctor Mackenzie.” He blushed, dropping his gaze to the floor, swiping at the tears streaking his cheeks. “I thought I was alone.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sat down next to him with a slight groan. “But, no apologies. Pain isn’t a burden you should carry alone.”
His shoulders stiffened.
“It’s hard to find people who want mine.” His words carried heavy personal truths, his fourteen-year old voice cracking under the strain. He sniffed hard. “People who’ll stay.”
“People do come and go in our lives,” I agreed. “Sadly we don’t always get a say in how or when.”
“You got a say,” he said bitterly. “You kept me from leaving.”
“You mean I fought for you.” I closed my eyes. “I wasn’t sure you had any will left to stay, but I fought. And after the surgery, I held your hand and asked you to stick with me.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“Yet here you are, so who knows? Maybe yours was the deciding vote.” My heart ached, but I smiled. “Do you really want to be alone?”
“My choice?”
“Mhm.”
“Then…” His warm weight settled tentatively against my side. “Not yet.”
@caramichaels
250 #TeamRPG #WIP365 words
Speaking to spirits is a thing. There’s some shrieking, maybe some praying. Once it’s established that the spirit is real, there’s a lot of crying, sometimes yelling, and almost always hugs. Well, attempted hugs, since the spirits aren’t usually solid.
My friend Monet and I walk into an old farmhouse. The client wears a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and her hair is in curlers. I feel overdressed in my black skirt and purple top.
“Hello, Joy. We’ve contacted Clarence and he’s willing to talk,” I say, as she gestures us to a beige flowered couch.
“Good.”
Clarence walks in, hesitant. Joy’s mouth hangs open, one hand over her chest.
“I watch over you every day,” he begins.
A sob tumbles forth in a river of tears. He lets out a breath.
“I thought I was alone,” Joy whispers, wiping at her eyes. “Why?”
“What did you learn about the accident?”
She pulls in a breath, a ragged tissue in her hand. “That you crossed the center line. The traffic camera shows you drifting into the path of that truck.”
He rubs his head, sighing again. “I was going down the highway, and I got super light headed. I think my blood sugar bottomed out.”
“For real?” her eyes are hopeful, wide, and red-rimmed.
He nods, reaching for her hands. Normally, he’d pass right through. But I have a little mojo and I help his hands solidify. They stare at each other, hands locked, her broken heart mended a little.
@Aightball
250 words
#ThursThreads Week 359 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week. 🙂