Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge: Spammerpunk Horror

This weeks challenge can be found here.

Our task was to write a Horror story in the context of a spam email. I didn’t fulfil the Horror quota, but there is one sentence that sends a shiver down my spine.

Halo Sir,

Good morning/night/day (delete as apropriate). My name is Normal, which means I am. I am no scam or foolish people. Myself and my partner Honest are founders of SuperRichExcellenceMoneyCool. We would like to offer you the opportunity to join us with this once in a life time offer. To become a member of SuperRichExcellenceMoneyCool all you have to do is provide us with some nonessential, unimportant, information. We will need you’re bank account details, you’re mothers before married name, and you’re place of living. Then we can start to transfer you the millions that are waiting. Please believe I am writing you from my huge Yacht and Honest is writing me from his Jet!! You have every rite not to join SuperRichExcellenceMoneyCool but we message you because we no your knot foolish person. Send us quick the details so we no you are who you say. Then you can start being SuperRichExcellenceMoneyCool. We will also send you FREE VHS of Barbara Streisand Live as extra insensitive to become member.

Best wishes,

Sir Normal.

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Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge: Picking Uncommon Apples

This weeks challenge can be found here

We had to pick, three, from a list of uncommon apples.

Mine were

  1. Rosemary Russet
  2. VonZuccalimaglios Reinette
  3. Lacy

And this is where i went with it, i give you


Golden Delicious



“Coming, Mr Tobin” she replied, struggling through the door with a large wooden bowl.

“Where have you been girl” he growled

“Washing the tankards” she placed the wooden bowl on a lower shelf behind the bar.

Tobin muttered something to himself, and strode through the door from which Lacy came. She began to dry the tankards. The noise of the tavern was so familiar, she failed to notice the man approaching the bar.

“Hello child”

Lacy looked up; the accent had taken her aback, but the image of the man made her gasp: He was tall, even without the top hat; he was the tallest man she had ever seen. His skin was a reddish-brown, and his elaborate moustache curled at the ends.

“Do not be alarmed” the man smiled; it was warm, but she noted his cold, cobalt eyes did not match. “May I speak wiv zee Innkeep?”

Lacy did not know what to say; she nodded, and quickly made off through the door behind the bar. A moment later Tobin came through it, with Lacy in tow. Agitated by the disturbance he frowned at the eccentric man with the cape, towering over the bar.

“Can I help you sir?” he grumbled

“Guten Tag, my name is VonZuccalimaglios Reinette” he maintained the same smile “I am searching for an old friend: a lady” he reached inside his coat and withdrew a photo, and handed it to Tobin. Lacy caught sight of the very old picture; her eyes widened as Tobin said “that’s Rosemary Russet.”


Lacy banged on the wooden door; the rain was fine but constant, the kind that looks tolerable, but soaks you through. The door opened, and Lacy rushed in.

“Rose!”  she yelled, gasping for air.

“What is it?” snapped Rose.

“There…There’s a man” she stammered, trying to catch her breath.

“Shhh” Rose wrapped a woollen blanket round her, and said “slow down, catch your breath”

After filling her lungs with air for a minute, Lacy began again “There’s a man at the Tavern, he’s looking for you”

Rose squinted at her “go, on”

“He had a picture” she said “it looked very old” she seemed confused by the image. She looked up at Rose, studying her “but it looked exactly like you now”

Calmly, Rose asked “what was his name?”

“Va…Van…Von” she said, trying to remember

“VonZuccalimaglios” said Rose

Lacy nodded, her eyes wide with the memory. Rose grabbed her arms on either side “Lacy, listen to me” she said with graveness in her voice “you need to return to the Inn, and go about your duties”


“Don’t fret over me, go, now”

As Lacy turned reluctantly the room fell into darkness; all the candles had extinguished, as though the October winds had entered the house. Rose looked round; to the window, where only an instant before the wind was howling. The air was still, as though the world had stopped turning. Rose ushered Lacy behind her: their backs to the fireplace; they faced the door. It swung open, and the world turned once more; the rain lashed down, and the wind began to wail. Standing on the threshold was VonZuccalimaglios.

“Ah” he said with an eerie joy in his voice “your papa is looking for you child.” He was speaking to Lacy; barely visible behind Rose.

“Your business is with me Reinette” said Rose

“Dah, and how long has it been my sweet” he said “one, two, three hundred years?”

“Not long enough” replied Rose

He smiled; his tombstone-like teeth, to big for his mouth, were accentuated by the gap between the front two. He said “for the past five-hundred years, I’ve been happiest when pursuing you”

“And like last time; I’ll send you back where you belong”

“My dear Rosemary, as stubborn as ever. You are the last of your kind; you should not exist”

The moon was the only source of light in the room, illuminating them both in a wash of silver. Time stood still; Lacy stared in awe, her stomach knotting with anticipation.

“Vell, shall ve get this over with?” asked Reinette

The first movement was slight: his cape twitched. Rose outstretched her arm, and twisted it as though grasping something from the air. She span round, and threw the contents of her palm into the fireplace. There was a flash of blue light, and Lacy was thrust backward into the flames, with Rose on top of her.


The room was dark again. Reinette was alone. Rose and the girl had disappeared through the fireplace. He took a deep breath; the sweet scent of singed apples filled his nostrils. He ran his tongue along his teeth, and said “Delicious.”


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Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge: From Sentence To Story

Yep you guessed it, another Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge.

This week, we were tasked with choosing a sentence, from a previous challenge, and using it as the opening for a story.

The sentence that inspired me was by Elisa M:

For Oscar Baron, life had been complicated long before his butler’s corpse fell out of the chimney.

And this is where it took me.


An Unfortunate Agreement

For Oscar Baron, life had been complicated long before his butler’s corpse fell out of the chimney.

‘So, you’re saying that you have no idea how he got there?’

Tired, sullen, and irritated; Oscar responded ‘yes Detective, that’s exactly what I’m saying’

The Detective nodded, though it was nothing more than a response, a movement of neck muscles to signal acknowledgement. ‘So you didn’t find it strange that your butler had’ the Detective made air quotes ‘“Disappeared?”’

Oscar frowned, he had never felt more offended by a hand gesture, and being a Capitalist in a recession; he’d seen some pretty offense hand gestures.

‘No Detective, I did not find it strange. When the IRS wants’ Oscar made some air quotes of his own ‘“their” money, they take “their” money, and when there’s no more money, they start to take things of value’ Oscar widened his arms, gesturing to the room.

The Detective looked around the empty room, making a hum of recognition as though its emptiness had only just become apparent. ‘So, you thought the IRS had taken your butler?’

Oscar sighed, his frustration coming out in a rasp; ‘no, but since they’ve taken all my money, I could not afford to pay the staff; the maid left, the chef, the gardener, I just assumed that was where Haslam went’

‘Uh-huh, and this Haslam, who was he?’

Oscar stared blankly at the Detective for a moment before realising his question was serious. ‘The butler’ he said in somewhat disbelief

The Detective jotted something down in his notepad ‘and how do you think he got in the chimney?’ asked the Detective

‘Isn’t it your job to tell me Detective’ replied Oscar, a slight bitterness in his tone

‘Uh-huh’ replied the Detective, jotting down something else ‘well, we intend to find that out Mr Baron, don’t you worry about that’ he said with a smile.

Oscar couldn’t tell if he was trying to insinuate or ingratiate, but found he thought of this Detective as a hapless fool, and so neither effort concerned him.

‘I’ll show myself out’ said the Detective, leaving the room; he turned to face Oscar before he reached the doorway, and said ‘be seeing you soon Mr Baron’

Oscar sighed to the empty room. The room seemed to sigh back.

The Detective got into his car; where his partner had been patiently waiting.

‘Well?’ he asked

‘Did you know he’s being indicted?’

‘Yeah, it’s been in the papers for weeks’

‘Huh, I don’t read the papers’

His partner wore a look of tired disbelief, but deciding not to press the point, he said

‘He do it?

‘The butler?’


‘Not sure, but I feel like he knows something’

His partner shifted the car into drive, and they set off.


Oscar watched as the Detectives drove down the quarter-mile driveway toward the main gate. He returned to his wingback chair in the centre of the room; this and the mahogany side-table next to it were the only pieces of furniture remaining in the room. He poured himself a drink from the near full crystal decanter sat atop the side-table. He took the deep honey coloured liquid down in one go and sat in silence.

The moonlight peered in through the window. Oscar heard the creaking of the floorboards behind him. He drained the glass and settled it back on the side-table next to the now empty decanter. He took a deep breath.

‘Hello, Oscar’

The voice sent a shiver through him like a fork in a plug socket. He felt the voice creeping closer under the groaning of the floorboards.


The voice whispered; he felt the warm breath on his neck, the scent of candy floss filled his nostrils; he gripped the arms of his chair.

‘Are you ready now Oscar?’ it asked as it rounded in front of him; the silhouette illuminated by the encroaching moonlight.

Oscar gazed at the hourglass shadow before him. It felt like an hour, but it was less than a minute before he spoke

‘No’ he said it firm, but she heard it quaver.

‘Oh, Oscar’ she said, walking slowly toward him. Leaning in, her face emerging from the shroud, illuminated at the fringes by the silver moonlight.

‘I told you if you didn’t agree, he’d take it all away from you’ she gestured to the room, its emptiness evident even in the darkness ‘and he did’ she said

Oscar sighed heavily, focusing on the deep red of her lips; they glistened like plump pools of fresh blood.

‘He can make things worse Oscar, loss is not everything’

‘You said I had to come of my own free will’

‘Yes, the honour is in the offering, without that, there is no deal’

Oscar smiled wryly, the alcohol coursing through his veins, making him feel in control and confident, he said ‘then if I never go, there’s nothing he can do’

‘Tut, tut, tut’ she said standing up, indefinable by the darkness ‘right now he is being reasonable, but do not test his patience’

‘I don’t see why I should have to uphold a deal I never made’ he said

‘Because you’ve prospered from it, so therefore you’re liable’

Oscar sat silently in the darkness; piecing together the events of the past few weeks, and how they had dissolved his life into an unrecognisable mess. This harbinger, he knew, meant every sweet word she uttered.

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Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge: Life is Hell

This weeks flash fiction challenge was to write about Hell. Details here.

And this was my take on it.


Hotel Hades


Sal stumbled through the pristine white lobby, gazing round in confusion, as he headed for reception.
‘Hey, buddy’ he said to the man behind the desk.
The man continued tapping the keyboard, before looking up.
‘Yes sir, how may I help?’
Sal looked him over, before speaking in his thick New York accent.
‘Listen buddy, I’m not sure how I got here, but since I’m here can I get a room, because I’m beat’
‘One moment sir’ replied the receptionist whose name tag read: Michael.
He pressed a few keys and said
‘Name please?’
‘Full name’
‘Salvadore Vinchenza’
Michael tapped away at the keyboard again ‘I’m afraid you don’t have a reservation sir’
‘Okay, well can I get a room anyway’
‘Afraid not sir’
‘Why not?’ said Sal, offended.
‘We don’t let just anyone stay here sir.’
‘My money not good enough for you’ he reached into his pocket; he found nothing. Sal checked his other pocket, and then tapped his vest.
‘I’m afraid bad language is prohibited here sir’ said Michael
‘Hey, fuck you’ said Sal
‘You may find the establishment across the street is more to your liking’ said Michael unfazed.

This receptionist was a sultry young blonde. Sal already liked this place; despite its gaudy décor.
‘Welcome to Hotel Hades, how may I help?’ she asked.
Sal fell in to her eyes like the deep mossy green pools they resembled. Her voice was like the dirtiest mutterings of his favourite pornstar; he could feel the blood rushing to a specific area.
‘Hey sweetie’ he said trying to play it cool ‘I need a room’
he reached into his pocket; to his surprise, Sal grasped a thick wad of cash. He pulled it out and unrolled it in front of her; each note was a hundred dollar bill. Good, he thought, women go weaker at the knees for money than anything else; love to a girl like this is cold hard cash, a hard dick doesn’t buy handbags.
‘Certainly sir’ she said ‘your name please?’
‘Salvadore Vinchenza’
‘One moment Sal’ her cheekiness riling Sal junior
‘Ah, here you are’ she said looking at the computer ‘we’ve been expecting you’
Sal smiled; he didn’t wonder why, he didn’t care, all that concerned him was the receptionist, her name tag read: Scarlet. Scarlet reached beneath the counter and pulled out a key.
‘You’re in room triple-six’ she said with a smile
‘Thank you Scarlet’ he said returning her smile ‘and what time will you be joining me?’ ‘You’re here a while Sal, we’ll get time’ she pressed the bell on the desk and a bell boy seemed to appear out of thin air.
‘Bell, show Sal to his room’
‘This way Sal’ said Bell walking toward the elevator.


The elevator stopped at the sixth floor. Walking down the hall, Sal noticed all the room numbers were the same: 666.
‘Here you are Sal’ said Bell stopping outside room number triple-six. Bell opened the door. Sal reached into his pocket.
‘Your money’s no good here.’
Sal looked down; staring up at him was a man in a top hat, wearing a moustache and a monocle; each note was bright orange. He put it back in his pocket and decided he needed sleep.
‘Thanks’ he said to Bell, and he walked into his room.


Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door. Sal opened it in frustration; standing on the threshold was a tall man.
‘Hello sir’ he said ‘may I come in for a quick chat?’
‘And who are you’ asked Sal
The man pointed to his name-tag and said ‘I’m Lou: the manager’
Sal shrugged and said ‘sure’
Sal sat on the end of the bed, and Lou stood; his hands behind his back, though clearly holding nothing but each other.
‘Are you enjoying your stay so far?’ he asked
Sal shrugged ‘I guess’
‘tut-tut-tut’ said Lou ‘that’ll not do’
Tired and irritable, and wanting to see the back of the manager Sal said
‘No its great, I’m having a great stay’
‘tut-tut-tut’ said Lou ‘that’s even worse’
‘huh?’ said Sal
‘What’s the last thing you remember Sal?’
Sal frowned ‘what do you mean?’
‘The last thing you remember before walking across a hotel lobby’
Sal thought for a minute, searching his mind for the memory.
‘I was pumping away at this broad’ he said ‘can’t remember her name’
professional lady was she?’
‘Hey, you don’t fucking judge me pal’ said Sal
‘You’re right Sal’ said Lou ‘what you do is up to you’
‘Damn straight’ said Sal
‘after all, if you weren’t a sinner, you wouldn’t be here’
‘Where do you get off?’
‘How did you get here again?’
Sal frowned.
‘Let me help you Sal’ said Lou ‘as the proprietor it is my duty to make sure you’re aware of your environment’
Sal listened to him talk.
‘You went from sleeping with a hooker, to walking across bright-white, flawless marble, correct?’
Sal nodded, annoyed to be agreeing with this asshole.
‘The plush, clean, spotless hotel, with its pure, pleasant receptionist said they didn’t have you down’
Sal nodded again, feeling he’d been spied on, or that the manager was some sort of FBI profiler
‘So you were sent here, to my, seedy and yet alluring establishment; where you see the lust inducing receptionist and, suddenly, your home’
Sal smiled, he did feel remarkably at home, though if it were his home, he’d kick this pompous prick in the crotch and tumble him outside.
‘You died Sal’
‘Heart failure; greasy, fatty food, high blood pressure, and some sinful cardiovascular’ ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
‘This’ said Lou ‘is where you’ll reside for eternity’
Sal looked round the room, and said ‘Look, I’m not sure if you’re really the manager, or your some kook who’s going round pretending to be the manager so you can talk shit while people listen. Either way, right now, I couldn’t give a fuck; I just want you out of my room, so I can get some sleep – capeesh?’
Lou smiled; his k9 teeth were elongated. He nodded, and headed for the door.
Sal picked up the remote and turned on the Television.
‘Hey’ he said as Lou reached the door ‘What gives?’
Lou raised an eyebrow in retort.
‘There’s only two channels; the news, and the shopping channel’
Lou smiled ‘welcome to Hell’ and he left.
Sal flicked frantically between channels; the shopping, and the news. As he flicked back and forth, Lou’s last words sunk deeper and deeper into his mind.

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Terriblemds Flash Fition Challenge: Five Random Words

This week: Five Random Words.

Mine were (in order):


The Result:


‘Digby, come quickly, look’
Digby walked over to his fiancée; her auburn hair shining like a flame as the sunlight illuminated her across the shop
‘What is it darling?’
‘Look’ she said pointing through the glass
‘Digby followed her finger; it indicated a set of ear-rings
‘Aren’t they beautiful Digby?’
He took in her smile; it was like a sunset over the Mediterranean sea.
Digby and Felicity looked up to see a, tall yet lithe, man. His face was smug, accentuated by the pencil moustache that stuck to his upper lip like an over-zealous sip of coffee. His name tag read: François
‘I thought they were pearl’ said Felicity
‘No, they’re Topaz’ he said ‘a much rarer, and dare I say prettier, stone’
‘What do you think Digby?’ said Felicity
Digby thought how much more palatable François might be; if he had his frontal lobe smashed by a heavy blunt object.
‘I think they would compliment, but never compete for your beauty’
‘Awww’ she kissed him on the cheek.
François raised an eyebrow, and cleared his throat
‘Would madam like to try them on?’ he asked.
Felicity looked at Digby
‘Go ahead babe’ he said.


Digby sat on the toilet. The lid was down, and he was there for no purpose that a toilet was invented.
He looked toward the bath tub; it was full of a clear liquid, like a bath devoid of bubbles. His white shirt was spotted with large patches of pink; he had his sleeves rolled up. He took a sip of beer as he studied the stretched out on the white tiled floor.
Digby smiled, enjoying his handy-work; the lifeless body of a young blonde, hers eyes blue, once full of promise, but now they were like an amateur painting, devoid of soul and life. He knocked back the beer and placed the empty bottle on the sink. This was the part he hated most: disposing of his art, but he acknowledged that in order for him to continue, there had to be no evidence.
Digby got to his feet, and picked the limp body up off the floor. He lowered it into the bath; being careful not to splash or touch the liquid. The body began to fizz as the water bubbled. He had to admit, the smell of hydrochloric acid and fresh blood gave him a semi.


‘Now dear, don’t you pay my father no mind, no one is good enough for his little girl, but he’ll come around’ said Felicity
Digby smiled and said ‘It’d take Lucifer himself to scare me away from you’
She blushed, just as they arrived before her parents.
‘Felicity dear, you look flustered’
‘I’m quite alright mother’ she said
‘Ah, this must be Dingbat’ said her father
‘Daddy, it’s Digby’ she harped
‘Yes well, I prefer my version’ he said
Digby smiled; he knew deep down that he would laugh last; he always did.
‘Where are your parents Digby?’ asked Felicity’s mother
‘Mother’ harped Felicity
‘What?’ her hands went up in defence of her question
‘The man is going to marry my daughter, I simply enquired as to his parents whereabouts?’
‘Now Mother – ’
‘It’s quite alright Felicity’ interjected Digby ‘my parents died when I was just a child’ he said addressing Felicity’s Mother ‘I’m an orphan’


He stood in the shadow of an oak-tree, listening to the mumbles of the reverend. The casket looked exquisite as they lowered it into the ground.
Digby always enjoyed watching the families mourn. He found it amusing and ironic that if they had seen his work; they would be applauding her sacrifice, not grieving over a life which achieved more in its final moments than most could achieve in a lifetime.
Digby gazed on all faces in the crowed; from the old lady in the wheelchair to the small boy with the lollipop; nearly a lifetime stood between them, but it was all irrelevant.
None of them knew when it would come, the old lady could attend the child’s funeral; life was wonderful in that way at times.
What would they think, how would they feel, if they knew just how close they all were, to death.

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Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge: Ten Little Titles

This weeks challenge Ten Little Chapters. This was hard, and I struggled (failed) to keep within the limit, but I’m posting anyway.


Hope for Humanity


Chapter I

‘We didn’t stand a chance General’
Masters looked down on the Lieutenant ‘You’re still alive Lieutenant’
Peterson nodded ‘by the good grace of God sir’
‘Then you didn’t try hard enough’
the words hit Peterson like a knife in the chest ‘Sir?’
‘They wouldn’t let anything stand in their way Lieutenant; your presence suggests, you didn’t try hard enough’
‘But…sir’ Peterson stammered
General Masters addressed the man beside him
‘Colonel, see that Lieutenant Peterson is aptly punished for his cowardice’
‘Certainly General’
‘And Colonel’
‘Yes sir?’
‘Get me Agent X’
‘Certainly General’


Chapter II

‘You wanted to see me sir?’
Xavier walked into the room and sat opposite the General
‘We have a problem Xavier’
‘The Government’
‘I’m listening’
The General slid a folder across the desk. Xavier opened it up and studied its contents. ‘Those five are one of our greatest threats’
‘How so?’
‘Their freedom could be mankind’s biggest catastrophe’
‘Go on’
‘Agent X, need I remind you of your role’
Xavier closed the folder, sat back in his chair, and said ‘No, sir’
‘Good, then your mission begins with immediate effect’


Chapter III

‘I’m in pursuit’ Xavier calls into his wrist watch
‘Do not let her escape’ the reply comes in a crackle
‘I’m losing signal; it’s this warehouse’
‘Do not let her……’
‘Shit!’ the communication goes dead; he’s on his own.
Xavier chasses her into a dead end. Her back is to him, as he points his gun at her
‘End of the line’
Her grey cloak slivers as she turns. Xavier frowns slightly, she looks human, but something about her seems purer; he puts it down to her large brown eyes; solemn and understanding
‘Hello Xavier’ her voice seems to ride on a wave on tranquillity.
Xavier frowns; he stiffens his grip
‘Do not feel confused’ she says ‘I exist in you like I exist everyone else’
‘Listen lady, all I know is you need to go back’
She smiles; an understanding smile. She withdraws a dagger from the sheath at her side; placing the blade on her pale forearm
‘Look into my eyes Xavier’
He doesn’t want to, but her voice speaks to his subconscious and he’s responding without thought; her brown eyes draw him in
‘I understand you’ she says ‘and now you, will understand me’
She cuts the tender white flesh; Xavier feels it, the searing heat runs across his forearm, he drops the gun and clutches his arm
‘I need to be free Xavier, we all need to be free’
She cuts deeper, and the pain becomes overwhelming; he falls into darkness.


Chapter IV

‘General, I need you to be straight with me’
‘Your mission is clear’
‘I need to know what’s going on, who are these people?’
‘They’re dangerous beings Agent, and they must be stopped’
‘I can’t catch what I don’t understand’
‘Then kill’ barks Masters ‘that is your forte’
‘We would rather they ceased to exist than be allowed to run free’
‘I don’t know what I’m dealing with, if you could just – ’
‘Yes, sir’
‘Agent X, your role is to hunt down those prisoners not to understand them; now if you find it too difficult to apprehend them; then terminate them – do I make myself clear?’ Through gritted teeth Xavier replies ‘Crystal, sir’


Chapter V

‘I don’t want to kill you Agent, but you’re not leaving me an option’
Xavier hides behind a large rock; blood trickles down his head, he’s hurt, but the adrenaline is sustaining him, he calls out
‘If you give yourself up now, you can keep your life’
‘I think you’ll find it is me hunting you Agent’
the voice is closer now, and Xavier hears the crunching of leaves. He rolls forward; hearing the clatter of metal upon stone. The man is crouched on top of the rock, his machete dug deep into it; where Xavier’s head was. He had wildness about him, and his eyes were hungry.
‘Which aspect of me are you agent?’ he asks ‘Fight, freeze, or flight?’
Xavier frowns, and raises his gun ‘Fight’ he says, and squeezes the trigger.


Chapter VI

Xavier stands at a payphone:
‘Xavier, it’s been a while’
‘Knowledge I need you to do something for me; off the record’
‘Isn’t it always’ he says ‘what do you need?’
‘Anything you can get me on Grey Area detainees’
‘That’s a tough one’
‘Well if you can’t do it – ’
‘Whoa, whoa’ comes the voice through the phone ‘I said it was tough not impossible’ ‘Alright, give it a shot’
‘What am I looking for?’
‘Prisoners one-to-five; seven levels below’
Xavier waits, listening to a keyboard being attacked.
‘Xavier’ says Knowledge
‘I don’t have a lot to go on, but I came across something called: Taming Humanity’
‘Okay, keep looking; I’ll call you’


Chapter VII

Xavier enters the room; its walls are thick with ash and soot, and it has long been abandoned. A woman is sat on a bed; springs protruding from the mattress. She is looking around the room, and has an air of sadness.
The woman looks up, her eyes are a dank green; pools of melancholy.
‘It’s so sad isn’t it?’
Xavier looks round the room, hoping to find her sadness.
‘People cared for this place, it was their home, and now, it’s a shell’ she sighed
Xavier knelt in front of her; he did not feel remotely threatened by her.
‘I need to talk to you’ he said
She looked at him, caring for his need
‘Who are you?’ said Xavier
‘I’m Compassion’
‘What are you?’ he tried
She touched his chest and repeated herself ‘I’m Compassion’
‘And the others?’
‘We were five, but now I sense we are four’
Xavier felt a twinge of guilt, remembering the man and his machete
‘It’s okay’ she said ‘as long as Hope survives’


Chapter VIII

‘Xavier, where have you been?’
‘General, what the fuck is going on, you need to level with me’
‘Agent, I suggest you change your tone’
‘I suggest you go fuck yourself’ he spits ‘tell me the truth’
Masters sighs; it comes through the phone like a harsh breeze
‘These prisoners are not human Xavier’
‘I’ve figured that out’
‘This is why you have to apprehend or’ he paused ‘terminate them’
‘They may not be people General, but they’re everything it means to be Human’
‘Did you talk to one of them Xavier?’
‘I think you know that already General’
Another sigh; this one carried disappointment with it
‘Then I’m afraid I have to call you in, Agent’
‘Oh I’m coming General, I’m coming’


Chapter IX

Xavier burst through the doors of the General’s office. Masters sat at his desk, eyeing the Agent without surprise. Xavier, gun in hand, gestured to the blood that covered him in large patches
‘Not mine I’m afraid’
‘Good men you’ve killed’ replied the General
‘Their blood is on your hands too General’
Xavier sat down in the chair opposite him
‘Don’t worry I’ll ease your conscience shortly, but first I have a question’
The General remained stoic; Xavier continued
The General took a deep breath ‘Humanity is a difficult thing to govern, but when you have a hold on certain characteristic, certain traits, then they are much easier to direct’
‘You mean control’
The General shrugged ‘semantics’
Xavier shook his head
‘Mankind does not know what is good for it, we were creating a balance for harmony’
‘You were creating a world without freedom’ said Xavier
‘Freedom is overrated’
‘Maybe, but that’s not your choice’
‘And what is your choice Agent?’


Chapter X

Xavier walked out of the office; the General sat in his chair while his brains slid down the window behind him.

‘I need help locating something’
‘Sure thing, who we looking for?’
‘Not who Knowledge; what’
‘Okay then; what are we looking for?’
A moment of silence lingers between them

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Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge: SometingPunk

This weeks Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge was:


We were tasked with inventing our own Punk style genre, based on Chucks definition of current Punk genres; e.g Steampunk. Using said definitions I concocted:

SoMeCorpPunk aka Social-Media-Corporation-Punk

And this is the story I wrote for it



I let the cursor hover over the button for some time. I had stared at it for too long, knowing that, in clicking, my life would change, for better or for worse I could not say, but a change was certain. I have no idea where it came from, but my right finger hit confirm and with it, came a rush of relief. I had no idea what would happen next, but for the first time in years, I felt my heart pumping, I could feel the blood coursing through my veins; I felt, alive. I threw a bunch of clothes into my holdall; the apartment building was owned by Apple, and I knew eventually they would notice what I had done. No profile; meant no accommodation. In one swift click, I had become a social pariah, and I knew they wouldn’t take it lying down. I began emptying my pockets, ridding myself of anything that could get a signal; phone, glasses, watch, and I left it all behind. I headed straight for the car park, in the basement of the building. By the time I reached it, I had begun to feel better; the nausea that had come in waves while I packed had subsided, and so far, nothing had happened. My contact told me I had around thirty minutes before they noticed, and maybe a further fifteen before they investigated. By that time I could be on the edge of the city, at the meeting point, and it was unlikely they’d find me. I hoped she was right. I walked to the car, with only the echo of my footsteps for company, adding to the tension. I got in, and reversed out of the space, as casually as I could, and headed toward the exit. When I got to the barrier, and daylight could be seen, I began to feel relief. A minute passed; the barrier had not risen. After two minutes; delight became despair. A sudden – BANG! – turned me cold. My mouth was drier than a salt lake, and my heart was in my throat; trying to squeeze its way out. I knew immediately what it was clambering around on the roof, though I hoped desperately to be wrong. A pair of eyes appeared at the top of the windscreen. They were wide and vacant, but they seemed to pierce right through me, holding me still, in its gaze. The Facebooker flipped its body, and landed on my bonnet with a thud. Its face was upright now, and I could see it clearly; blue-eyes vacant and staring, its mouth in a rigid, permanent smile; idiotic, and yet, demonic. I just sat staring, frozen in my seat. And I knew, through the two slits in its face, between the vacant eyes and moronic smile, it could smell my fear. The seconds that passed, felt like hours. But eventually, it spoke; its voice was excited and idiotic
‘I’m sending you a friend request, lol’
I think it was trying to scare me into logging back in. I put the car into reverse; its eyes watching me as I did, head jostling from side to side like an intrigued bird. Seeing my intent, it stuck up the thumb of its large white hand, and said
I took a deep breath and, as I exhaled, stamped on the accelerator like it was alight. The Facebooker tumbled backward, its long gangly limbs splaying like an octopus on roller-skates. I broke hard, the tyres squealing to halt. I watched as the heap of naked white flesh lay motionless on the floor. I waited for a moment, my heart beating in my ears; to my horror, it moved, untangling itself, and slowly got to its feet. The Facebooker puffed out its chest, and rotated its neck; the cracking of its bones reverberated off the walls of the car park. Its large, vacant, blue eyes, stared at me; despite its moronic smile, I could tell it was pissed. It raised its large white hand again; this time, extending its thumb downward, and in the same foolish tone it said
I shifted into drive, and pushed the pedal to the floor. The tyres screeched in protest as the car hurtled toward the Facebooker. It took mere seconds to reach him, and I could have sworn in the milliseconds before contact, its once vacant blue eyes contained a flicker of surprise. Between the car and the barrier, which the impact had broken, there was nothing left but a white and red mess. Not sparing a second, I took my foot off the brake, and continued on, up the ramp, and out into the sunlight. I floored the pedal again; they were on to me, and there was no point in trying to be casual, I had to get to the rendezvous, I had to meet with members of Disconnected; after all, I was one of them now.


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