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Ashes to Ashes
It’s Friday today and that means it’s Friday Fictioneers time! As I write this there are already nearly 100 stories of roughly 100 words each up on the link page, can you believe? I was going to post my story yesterday, but I just got a PlayStation 4 so I’ve been a bit distracted 🙂
This week’s photo has been contributed by Friday Fictioneerer Jennifer Pendergast and the whole challenge is ably hosted as always by Rochelle. To read the other stories for this week, click on Bracken (the little blue froggy).
Randolph raced through the shade towards the welcoming light beyond the archway. Three months he’d been a captive. Abused, mistreated. His neck hurt; he rubbed the wounds as he ran.
And the hunger! They’d given him a sickly red liquid to drink, but always the hunger returned.
What had they done to him?
He burst into the sunlight, his shout of triumph becoming a scream as his skin blistered. His pursuers stopped short of the archway, staying in the shade. Flames consumed his body and his view of freedom disappeared as his eyeballs liquefied.
His ashes blew across the field on the summer breeze, free at last.
A Quick Bite
Weekly Writing Challenge: Dialogue –Â Begin a post with a scene that includes dialogue.
“No way, I get first bite!” snapped the blond-haired vampire, his fangs glistening in the glow of the alley’s single working street light. He crossed his arms and glared at his brown-haired accomplice, a girl who looked no older than twenty but in reality had grown up dancing the Charleston.
“Like, OMG, no way! Greedy much?” she replied. Regardless of her upbringing before she had been “turned”, she had become the eternal student . A college campus was an ideal hunting ground and she had an unfortunate tendency to use the vernacular of her class mates.
“Must you talk like that, Charlotte-Ann?” asked the other vampire, resignation in his voice.
“Like yeah, Samson. And it’s Charlie.”
All the while the girl sat huddled against a dumpster. She was in her mid-twenties, had deep red hair from a bottle and was dressed for the clubs. She clutched her purse to her chest and trembled as she watched the pair arguing. Mascara stained her face as the tears fell.
“Charlotte-Ann, Charlie, whatever, I saw her first!”
“Come on Samson! Man, you got first bite last time. OMG, how unfair is this? You totally suck!”
“Yes,” replied Samson, showing his fangs. “Yes I do.”
“Not suck, suck. Like totally. OMG man, like totally.”
“Sometimes,” said Samson, “you make no sense whatsoever. I so preferred you in the sixties.”
Meanwhile back at the dumpster, the girl’s eyes had opened wide as she watched the strange argument. She had no idea what was happening but this strange pair no longer seemed to be paying any attention to her. Slowly, carefully, she began to edge towards the end of the alley where she could see cars passing by.
“Oh yeah, the sixties!” said Charlie, her eyes unfocusing as she cast her mind back. “Sex, drugs, rock and roll, more sex…”
“So easy to get blood in those days. With all the LSD nobody knew what they were seeing,” remembered Samson. “But, back to the issue at hand. It’s my turn to go first.”
“It so isn’t! You so said it would be my turn this time!”
“Fine,” said Samson, sighing. “We’ll go together. Let’s eat!”
They turned to the dumpster.
“Um,” said Charlie, “like, where’d she go?”
“Idiot!” snarled Samson.
“Moron!” snapped Charlie.