How about a little flash fiction?

by | Jul 5, 2019

A group I’m in on Facebook posts random story prompts from time to time, and sometimes I enjoy taking a break and getting a couple hundred words out for them. I figured I would share them here!

Prompt: It was a horrible place to get a flat tire.

“No, no, no!” Caitlyn slammed the heels of her palms against the frayed leather of the wheel in time to the steady flop-flop-flop of the flat tire as she cruised to a stop on the darkened street. It was hours past curfew, she shouldn’t be in this neighborhood now, and no self respecting tow service was going to come and get her here and now. She shouldn’t have let Mr. Perkins intimidate her, regardless of the way his massive body made her feel small and fragile in a very definite way.

Muttering half formed obscenities that made her blush, she stumbled out of the car. Cringing at the squealing groan of the rusting metal, she left the door open so as not to attract anymore attention. The struggle with the trunk that always stuck was followed by her falling flat on her ass in a murky puddle shimmering blue-gold-red in the weak lights from the building too far away to illuminate her endeavors. After lugging the heavy tire to the side of the car, she kneeled on the grimy asphalt. Panting, she set her head against the cool metal to try and remember the one time she had seen this done.

The scraping-click of long nails against cement hissed through the echoing darkness. Rattled down her spine as she whirled around, eyes wide as she shrunk back against the deflated tire in horror. She’d somehow forgotten how much bigger they were at night, how their eyes glowed golden-red in the half-light. Had somehow managed to suppress the abject terror of their toothy grins.

“Well, hello there, sweetheart.,” he said, words mangled through so many gleaming razors waiting to rend through delicate human flesh. “Wanna play?”

The preternatural calm was a lie, Devin realized. His body was poised, ready for the killing strike. It was his eyes though that showed his turmoil beyond the fixed stare. Clamping her lips into a hard line, she gave a minute shake of her head. Refusing to bare more of her soul to him.

“Despite sitting at that stupid desk, watching him destroy me a little more each day, you made it better,” she breathed, eyes widening as she willed her treacherous tongue to stop moving. “Just seeing you, even smelling you… There was hope, somewhere in all of it, and…”

“Enough.” His was a voice dragged over hot coals, wrenched from a place neither of them knew existed. A dark abyss that became more twisted, more voracious as Devin shone a glimpse of light upon it.

“You always made me feel safe.”

“And you hated my touch. Always yelling your accusations of stealing things from you, taking everything away,” he snarled against her lips. “You tried to kill both of us, to destroy all of this, and you expect me to believe I made you feel safe?”

“It scared me, Daniel.”

“And now you’re not, is that it?”

“Not of you.”

As if it had never faltered, the shimmering heat returned. It bloomed through her chest, tangling through her limbs as she struggled to work them free to return his crushing grasp. Whining low in her throat when he kept her imprisoned, she did the only thing she could. Arching her neck, she brought their lips flush. Her tongue teased at the tender flesh, begging for entry. Devin whimpered when he tore his mouth away.


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