Flash Fiction Friday 2024 – Week 18
Flash Fiction Friday continues in 2024. New pieces appear every Friday on my Patreon throughout the year. The minimum pledge to read them before anyone else is $3 per month. and the number of pieces available is tied to the monthly pledge total so the more you support my efforts, the more you’ll get to read. Find out what they’re all about and check out some excerpts from this week’s update in this post.
A Painful Reminder
(…)
It was all about pain. When he woke up from trance, she made it clear that every time he disobeyed her from that moment on, the headaches wouldn’t stop. The unrelenting pressure on his temples would eventually break him and turn him into her devoted pet.
“You’re crazy, Marcia,” he declared.
“No. I’m in charge,” she replied, and the worst part was that she was right.
John’s steps faltered as he approached the cafeteria, his heart heavy with dread and desperation. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the sharp tang of anxiety that clung to his every breath. He tried to steel himself against the pain, to summon a rebellious spark within him that would defy Marcia’s cruel commands, but it was no use.
(…)
Something More
(…)
When he reached his wife’s grave, he gasped in horror at the sight before him. The ground was torn up, the headstone shattered into pieces, and the coffin lay open, its lid discarded to the side. But there was no sign of Ellen’s body anywhere.
He turned slowly, mind in a blur almost as if he were to pass out from the shock and saw her standing there. His beloved wife, pale and ghostly in the moonlight, with a shredded white dress, wet dirt beneath her crooked fingernails, and bloodshot eyes terrible enough to make a grown man cry and cower in fear.
“This can’t be,” he gasped. “You’re dead!”
“Am I?” the ghastly apparition looked at him like a god looks down at an insect from atop the perch of Creation. Her voice was both sexy and menacing, an inhuman rasp tickling her throat. “Because I don’t feel like dead at all. She was right… This is wonderful!”
“Who are you talking about, Ellen?” Richard stammered, his voice trembling with fear and confusion.
(…)
Steamy
Melinda’s fingers traced the curves and dips of Rita’s naked body, their skin slick with sweat in the intense heat of the sauna. The steam rose like a misty veil, making every inch of them glow and shimmer in the dim light. The air was thick with the musky scent of arousal and the sounds of heavy breathing as they explored each other’s bodies with eager hands. A surge of desire coursed through her as she realized just how much she wanted this woman in front of her, in this moment, in this sweltering haven.
As the climax approached, Rita’s breathing grew more erratic, and the pounding of her heart echoed in her ears. The heat radiated from Melinda’s body, the intensity of their passion reaching its peak. The air in the sauna grew heavier, the scent of their sweet musk the only thing they could focus on as they teetered closer and closer to ecstasy.
(…)
You Can’t Control the Water
(…)
Máirín’s voice chimed in then, “But we are not without mercy,” she said, her words caressing him like a soft breeze. “If you return the skin of our beloved sister Iseabail and never return to these waters again, we’ll grant you safe passage back to your father’s lands.”
Finlay’s hands trembled for now he knew for sure he was doomed. Teàrlag, stepped forward with a solemn expression on her face. Her amber eyes bore into Finlay’s, searching for any hint of remorse or redemption, but she found none. “He doesn’t have it anymore. He burned her skin before we got to him. Iseabail will never return to the sea.”
“Is this true?” Eilidh growled.
“Yes, sister, it is,” Teàrlag replied. “His thoughts don’t lie.”
“We should skin you alive for this offence,” Máirín pulled a knife made from a shark’s tooth from behind her back and held it against Finlay’s neck.”
(…)
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