Welcome back to the home of Weird, Wild, & Wicked Tales. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing. We’re half way through our eighth year of weekly prompts!
This is Week 400 of #ThursThreads… I need to take a moment to let that sink in… 400 weeks? How can that be? *counts on fingers and toes* Four Hundred Weeks, wow.
This weekly challenge that ties tales together has been here almost 8 solid years. 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 400:
Dark fantasy author, archer, and horsewoman, Daelyn Morgana.
And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.
“Do you think I’ll say no?”
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!
11 Replies to “#ThursThreads – Tying Tales Together – Week 400”
“Think I’ll say no?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, I’d be ever so grateful if you didn’t.”
“Gratitude. You can’t spend gratitude.”
“So, money perhaps?”
“I have what I need.”
“Then why mention it? Everyone wants more money. You must…want more?”
“A fair point. You can never have enough money, I suppose. I’m comfortable but…well, a little more comfort wouldn’t hurt.”
“I can get you some…whatever you say. I can’t stand this anymore. And I’m healthy. No coughing. No temperature. Nothing.”
“You’re looking a little flushed.”
“I’m getting worked up. Confinement does that. I’m tired of being a prisoner.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“I know. I’m just telling you what it feels like.”
“Others are making do. And it’s only been five days. Only nine to go. Not such a long time.”
“Fine for you to say. You’re not trapped here in an inside cabin. No fresh air. Being treated like a…”
“Yes. Like that.”
“There are thousands in your boat, pardon the pun.”
“There’s no need for crass humour. There’s nothing funny about this virus.”
“Of course, there isn’t. But why you would think you could buy your way out of this situation…and think that I’m the type to take a bribe…tacky. This thing, this disease…we’ve so much to learn. It would be foolhardy to make exceptions.”
“I suppose you’re right. Going stir crazy, I guess.”
“You’re not alone. Nine days will fly by like…”
“Nine days. Like nine long days.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Great. It’s a wall.” I scanned the structure as far as I could see on either side of us. “A very long and high wall with no visible doors. That’s fantastic.”
“I’ve climbed worse.” Taewoon assessed the rocky edifice of the building.
“I know.” I scowled. “I’ve posted your bail.”
“That was one time, noona.” He tested the wall’s sturdiness, nodding when it didn’t immediately crumble. “I have an idea.”
I had a bad feeling about whatever was cooking in his lizard brain.
He froze at my tone.
“Factoring in danger, lack of preparation, and such…What do you think I’ll say?”
“…No?” Taewoon’s amber gaze narrowed as though my question was a trap. “Probably hell no?”
“I’m pretty confident—”
I cuffed his scaly head.
“In me, brat.” I jerked my chin toward the top. “That roof is at least fifty feet up. What if you fall?”
“You work your swearing and healing mojo?”
“What if I can’t? I don’t know the rules of this world. I don’t know when my—magic—is tapped out.”
“I might have something to help.” Kai held his hand out to Tae, a chunky ring resting in his palm.
“You want me to accessorize?”
“There’s a spell on this ring. To prevent the rather sudden and unpleasant ending of falling.”
“There’s a spell for that?” Tae grinned. “This world is hard core. Gimme that rope you carry, noona. It’s finally useful for something.”
250 #TeamRPG WIP words
Luke shook his head. “You’ve known Haley, what, maybe fifty-four hours? When did the tattoo show up?”
“Early this morning.”
“After you did the horizontal mambo with her, I bet.” He smirked.
I nodded, not wanting to encourage him. “Yes.”
He sobered when I didn’t rise to the bait. “Have you told her who you really are?”
I sighed. “No. She’s not ready for that. She’s not even ready for the knowledge that we’re now bound for eternity, not just her lifespan.”
“You stupid tosser. She’s not going to like that decision taken out of her hands.”
I nodded again. “I know.”
“Have you talked to Loki?”
I shot him a dry look.
“Bloody hell.” He shook his head with a rueful laugh. “I’m not really surprised, you know. I figured she was someone special when you asked for my help getting connected with her.”
“You mean when you manipulated your way into “helping” me.”
He shrugged. “Hey, whatever works.”
“There’s another thing. People are after her because she witnessed a murder. One I’m reasonably sure was perpetrated by Backlog.”
“Oh, good, I thought this was going to be easy.” He threw his hands out. “Now you gotta tell Loki.”
“What do you think I’ll say? No worries, mate, it’ll be fine since she’s a reporter and we’re Elder Races, but she’ll keep the secret? Oh right, that’ll go over well.”
“Man, you done fucked up real good this time.”
“Thanks for the support, Luke.”
“Anytime, little brother.”
248 ineligible #ConcreteAngelsMC words
She interlaced her fingers, shoving them between her thighs. Her hands shook, the urge to fidget hitting her hard. Staring at her hands, she gave her tongue stern orders to remain in her mouth even though it desperately wanted to wet her lips. Showing any signs of nervousness would be bad. Disastrous, in fact. The murmur of voices drew closer and she squirmed, despite her best effort to sit still. The over-sized chair swallowed her while also making her sit up straight, like she was back in school and facing the headmaster again. She shuddered, stuffing those memories back into the darkest recesses of her brain.
The door opened. Her father, resembling a nervous crow in his dour, black suit, entered. She glimpsed the man following him and her heart stuttered at his too-quiet voice and the words he uttered.
“Do you think I’ll say no?”
Her father drew on some well of false bravado and answered, “Only a fool would turn this down and you aren’t stupid.”
She waited for the other shoe to drop, eyes glued to hands now resting limply in her lap.
“And what does your daughter have to say?”
“She’ll do whatever I tell her.”
A pair of shiny brown loafers appeared, the toes all but touching the toes of her black pumps. “The question then becomes, will she do whatever I tell her?”
She looked up, terror and hope tumbling over themselves. He smiled. “I believe she will. I’ll take her.”
Relief. She’d survive.
250 Moonstruck Mafia words for use at a later date
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Contessa Ziv Bianchi pulled off her safety goggles and tucked them into a pocket of her white lab coat. “Why the French maid uniform?”
Mifuyu Shizuka sighed at her frilly black and white costume.
“I don’t remember putting it on…”
The grey haired contessa left her nest of tubes, beakers and burners to boil over and ushered her guest to a table by a narrow vertical window. Mifuyu cautiously sat across from the older woman.
“I’m here because of your theories about alternate timelines.”
Contessa Bianchi found two flasks of bright bubbling green liquid under the table. Mifuyu declined the one offered to her. The contessa shrugged and took a swig from the other before returning to topic.
“You’ve been resetting the timeline. How many times have we had this conversation?”
The old woman looked giddy, not surprised.
“Because you don’t trust me. So what’s different this time?”
Mifuyu resented going to the woman responsible for some of her more horrific deaths, but still couldn’t come up with a better option.
“That succubus’ new initiative. It hasn’t happened in any other timeline, and it’s too dangerous for Hazuki. Please, I need your help to fix this.”
The unwilling time traveler opened up to the most dangerous woman on Earth. Contessa Bianchi sipped thoughtfully from her flask.
“Do you think I’ll say no? Villains like us having the opportunity to work together is apparently unprecedented. I look forward to our collaboration.”
250 Fantasy Fighter words
I came upon the scene my eyes wide open and my heart in my mouth; my daughter was straddling a body on the floor. My daughter’s eyes were blackened. I noted there were bruises on her arms and her bare legs. Her clothes were ripped and she looked stunned.
“It’s going to be okay Mallory,” I comforted.
“Yes, baby I’m here.”
“Mom he’s dead. The cops are going to put me in jail.”
“From this moment you’ve never seen this man.”
“Mom, I killed him!”
“I will help you get rid of all the evidence like he was never here.”
“You do that for me?”
“I love you; do you think I’ll say no? Now we need some supplies all from a hardware store from outside of town. Has anyone seen him with you? Is that his car outside, a cell phone anything that can be traced back to you?”
“Yes, that’s his car his cell is on the table and no there’s nothing else. I’ve never seen him before today.”
“Good now you call in to work ‘you’re going on holiday’ you’ll hide out at my apartment until your bruises are gone.”
My daughter and I disposed of the body and the bloody flooring pieces in the basement in quicklime in a barrel in the basement. The blood was cleaned up with bleach and Lysol as if nothing had occurred. The rapist wasn’t missed Mallory was safe. No one would ever find him he was just mush now.
Sometimes, the dreams happen with my eyes wide open, and the sun shining outside. Even then, I still see them, every time I blink, every time I pause, and close my eyes. One keeps repeating, endlessly.
Someone I know. Someone I have only seen one time. I wrote a message to her once, “If you ever ask for my help, I’ll find a way.”
I haven’t spoken to her in years now. She’s gone. A classic falling out, politics, and religion, and all that crap that turns people into enemies, and drives friends apart. Yet, there she is, in that dream.
“You left, you know. It was you, not me.” Those blue eyes, drilled right through me.
“I didn’t leave you. I left your friends. Your environment.” Always, I tried to explain, even though I knew no one had ever understood.
“You told me you would find a way, if I ever asked for help.”
“I meant it then. I mean it now.” Somehow, I knew she would never ask. I knew she couldn’t understand. “If you were to ask, do you think I’ll say no?”
“Yes.” Those blue eyes were gone. I’d never see them again.
Regret? Maybe. Past mistakes? Of course. Fixable? Never. And that damn dream kept reminding me of that truth. And when the dream ended, there I was, like always, asking God to let me die. Knowing damn well it wasn’t my time. And that dream would happen. Again. Endlessly.
The goddess’ words linger when I wake.
Make him go with you. You’ll need his help.
I must be losing my mind. It was just a dream, right? But when I open my eyes and I look across the dead fire, Valmong is there, on his bedroll on the grass. I’m awake but still in this world, still in an unfamiliar forest with a horned man. A horned man with a tail.
How did I not notice it last night? It twitches in his sleep, and I can’t help but stare.
As if sensing my thoughts, Valmong opens his eyes. His gaze falls on me immediately, and for a moment it seems he’s still asleep. A second later his eyes clear, and recognition flashes in them. He remembers, likely recalling the previous night.
“Morning.” The greeting feels awkward on my lips as I hurry to look away.
“Is it?” He sounds upset, and I wonder if he noticed me staring, if I’ve offended him.
You’ll need his help.
“I need to ask you-.”
“Tenebrin and Claritas visited, I’m guessing?” He rolls onto his back.
Valmong sits up, and I turn to look at him again. His golden eyes linger on mine, and I can’t help but feel like he’s reading me. “Do you think I’ll say no?”
“She seemed to think so.”
At that, he gives a humorless chuckle.
“Is that a no, then?”
“It’s an ‘I’ve nothing better to do’.” He gets up and gathers his things.
250 #TeamRPG words
#ThursThreads Week 400 is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.