Category Archives: Flash Fiction Mondays

Flash Fiction – Mirror Mirror

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It’s time for another flash fiction inspired by a photo, the picture is below. I’m honestly not sure how I feel about this one, it seems a little too similar to the last flash fiction I posted, but it’s where my mind kept going.

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She could hear footsteps echoing down the hall as he continued to look for her. She’d slipped out of the party as quietly as possible, hoping no one would notice her absence, but of course Arthur did. Three text messages with no answer from her and he was getting worried. Walking into the library he saw her, sitting in front of the cold fireplace.

“What are you doing in here? Why didn’t you answer me?” Concern made his voice sharper than he intended.

“I just needed some space, Arthur. There are too many people in there. Too many people I don’t know and it’s making me uncomfortable. I know they all think I shouldn’t be here.” Rising slowly, she walked to the nearest bookcase, slowly trailing her fingers along the leather spines. She loved this room more than any other in the house.

“Why do think that? And why shouldn’t you be here? You’re with me, you belong here.” The coolness radiating off her was making him nervous.

“I’m with you, therefore I belong? What kind of sense does that make? If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be accepted into this world of wealth. Is that what you’re telling me? We all know I should be working at this party, not attending as a guest. Right?” Her words were harsh but said with little emotion.

“No, Sophie, that’s not what I meant. I just, I meant…” Sighing, Arthur ran his hands though his hair, tugging on the ends in frustration. “Can you please just come back to the party and we can talk about this later?”

Continuing her slow tour of the room, Sophie stopped in front of a mirror that was hanging over a sideboard. Gilded and ornate, the frame was hideous. The mirror itself an odd shape, completely impractical. But it was old, and expensive. Like everything else here. Looking at her reflection, she wondered exactly what all those people, his people, in the other room saw when they looked at her. Not someone good enough for him, that was obvious.

“No, I don’t think I will,” she said softly. “I don’t belong in there, with them. They know it. I know it. You don’t seem to, but I can’t fix that.” Turning to face the mirror fully, Sophie met Arthur’s eyes in the reflection. “We knew this wouldn’t last, don’t act surprised.”

“This is news to me! I am surprised! I thought your heart was in this, in us.”

Sophie turned to face him and the anguish on his face was hard to see, but she knew it wouldn’t last. Soon, his family would have their way and he would be with someone more suitable, more acceptable. And he would forget about her.

“So this is it? You’re not going to say anything else?”

“What else is there to say? Except, good-bye, Arthur.”

He stared at her in disbelief before turning on his heel and leaving the library.

Listening to his footsteps retreating down the hall, Sophie turned back to the mirror, staring at her own dry own eyes. “Mirror, mirror on the wall, where do I belong?”

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Jess Jarman | Bronwyn Green | Gwen Cease |

Flash Fiction – God of Ocean Tides

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This month’s flash fiction song inspiration is God of Ocean Tides by Counting Crows. As much as I love them, I hadn’t heard this song before. I put it on repeat on my drive to work one morning and….bam! Inspiration.

Listen to the song here if you want to and the lyrics are here.

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How long had he been driving?  Ethan didn’t even know at this point. All he could remember were headlights and gas stations and billboards lining the dark highways. As soon as he had read the note, he’d jumped in the car and started heading south, knowing that’s where she would go. Where Maddie always went. It was sacred to her.

Her note had said only, “I’m leaving, please just let me go.”

As if he could.

Sometime around midnight he crossed through Tennessee, skirting around Memphis, barely noticing when he crossed the state line into Mississippi. Every mile bringing him closer to Maddie.

The sun was coming up when he reached the coast, throwing orange and pink across the shimmering Gulf. Ethan drove to the pier, only recently rebuilt, the one Maddie had shown him on their first trip here, the one she had played on as a child. The one where her grandfather had taken her fishing. The one she had fallen off when she was only three. As he parked the car and climbed out, he saw her standing at the end, a lone figure silhouetted against the rising sun.

Although she must have heard his footsteps in the quiet morning, she didn’t acknowledge him until he was standing next to her, leaning on the railing

“I asked you to just let me go.” Her voice was quiet but resigned. Like she had been anticipating him.

“I don’t know how you expect me to do that, Maddie. No reason, no warning. Three years, and I come home from my dad’s house to a note. What the hell?” Ethan had promised himself he would stay calm, but his voice was steadily rising. “Don’t I at least deserve some kind of explanation? Aren’t I worth that?” The last was yelled, out in the direction of the waves.

Taking a calming breath, he turned back to Maddie to see tears streaming down her face. “Why are you crying? You did this.”

The venom in his voice was almost impossible to stand, but in the end, it would make things easier. Steeling herself, she said, “I never loved you.” Maddie’s heart broke as she told the lie.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. I stayed because it was comfortable, but I can’t do that anymore. Please, Ethan, just go. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Refusing to make eye contact, she ignored the glare she could feel heating the side of her face. A few minutes passed in silence before she heard him spin around and stalk back down the pier.

As his car started and he sped off, Maddie’s tears flowed harder, if that was possible. Her hands drifted down to rest lightly on her soon-to-be bump. “It’s okay, baby,” she whispered. “It’s better this way. He never wanted kids. Now he won’t feel obligated and we can go be happy somewhere else.”

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Bronwyn Green | Kris Norris | Jess Jarman | Siobhan Muir | Gwen Cease |

Flash Fiction – January 2019

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I feel like every time I blog, I start out by saying, I know it’s been a long time since I’ve blogged…

This time is no different, so I won’t do that except to say, I think I’m finally starting to pull out of a major depressive episode I’ve been in for almost for a year, so I feel like I’m coming back to myself a bit. This is my first attempt at writing anything since I blogged last January. I hope it’s the first of many this year.

 

 

Walking into the room, I was assaulted by memories. Everything was different, but also, it was exactly how I remembered it.

“Kate, what are we doing here?”

I could hear Marie behind me, I knew she was asking me something, but I couldn’t pull myself out of my thoughts long enough to answer her. The shelves that used to be lined with books now stood empty, most of the contents strewn on the floor. Or gone, from what I could tell. That probably happened in the blast, I assumed. The hours I used to spend in here, reading titles off the spines, planning which book I would read next. All gone now.

“Hello! Kate! What is this place?”

Marie was getting more impatient by the minute and she was going to start yelling if I didn’t answer her soon.

Finally, I turned to my companion and met her anxious gaze. “This was my house.”

“Oh, for the love! Please don’t tell me we came here so you could keep looking for Matthew? I thought you finally gave up on him!” The disgust was clear in her voice.

“I have given up on him, I’m not looking for him anymore. I promised you that. It’s just…” I paused for a second to gather my thoughts. “A couple of days ago when I realize where our route was taking us, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to at least stop by here and see what, if anything might be left. It’s been almost a year, I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

Marie snorted delicately. “Right, hurt you or hurt us? If you get depressed again after this, I’m not dragging you out of here.”

I rolled my eyes at her. She wouldn’t let me forget the shape I was in when she first found me, practically comatose and waiting to die. What did she expect? My world had turned upside down, hers too. I’m still not sure how she held it together back then, and how she was now.

Looking around the room once more, I noticed a couple of books standing neatly on the shelves, the only items not on the floor. Dumbfounded I walked closer. They were my journals, of all things. I couldn’t imagine how they ended up down here, since I had always kept them in my closet, and that was where I had left them when I fled. Reaching up, I started to grab the red one, the last one I had.

“Don’t touch that.” I stopped moving at the voice, and the soft click of someone turning off the safety on a gun. “Don’t you touch a damn thing.” he said again.

Meeting Marie’s eyes, I could see she was terrified. With my hands in the air, to show I was unarmed, I slowly pivoted in place pulling back my hood at the same time. My ears hadn’t been deceiving me, I knew that voice.

“Matthew?” It came out in barely a whisper.

“Kate?” The surprise and confusion was clear on his face, I was the last person he had expected to see here.

Without thinking I ran to him and launched myself into his arms. He buried his face against my neck and I could feel him shaking as I hugged him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, pulling back to look at me. “How long have you been here?”

“Me, what about you? Have you been here this whole time?”

“No,” he said. “I only came back through a couple of days ago, and thought I would check and see if there had been any sign of you. I didn’t really expect to find anything, or any one.”

Gesturing towards the shelf, I asked, “did you set my journals up there?”

He looked embarrassed, but nodded. “Yeah, I thought. Well, I thought they shouldn’t be hidden away anymore. Stupid, I know.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat reminded me that we had company.

“Matthew, this Marie. We’ve been traveling together, looking for, anything I suppose.”

He nodded at her in hello, but didn’t acknowledge her beyond that. “Have you seen anyone else?” Matthew asked.

“No. Marie found me about two weeks after the blast. Have you found anyone, Matthew? Anyone at all?”

“Not a soul.” The fear and confusion were evident in his voice.

Looking back and forth between my two companions I asked the question no one wanted to ask. “Are we really the last three people left on Earth?”

 

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Bronwyn Green | Jess Jarman | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir | Gwendolyn Cease

Photo Flash Fiction – Jan 2018

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Alright, I’m trying to get back in the swing of things. This will probably be short, but I’m writing something for the first time in quite a while. Here goes…

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“Damn car. I told Aaron we needed a new battery, but he was all, nooooo, it’s fine. Fine my ass. He’s never lived in the frozen tundra, he doesn’t know what it does to car batteries. And now, here I am, the middle of nowhere, no car, no heat.” I kept up the bitching as I made my way along the side of the road, my righteous anger helping to keep me warm. When I got back home, I was going to show him exactly what the snow and cold could do to a body.

After about fifteen minutes, and ten partially numb toes, I found a driveway leading off the road. Driveway was probably a generous term, more like tiny path that a hearty truck would maybe make it through. But, I could see a house at the end of it, and there was a light in the window, so I headed off that way.

Knocking on the front door didn’t produce an answer, so I hollered a few times to see if maybe someone was outside but close by. “Hello! Is anyone home!” Nothing. Pulling my phone out I checked again to see if there was a signal. Also nothing there. This area was a notorious dead zone. Of course.

Trying the front door I found it was unlocked. Time to go Goldilocks, I was done freezing out here. Walking into the front hall, I called out again, “hello! Is anyone home? My car died and I need to use a phone!”

“Sorry dear, were you knocking? I was in the basement.”

Screaming, I jumped and turned to find Mother Goose behind me. Or at least the real life version of her. White hair up in a bun, flowered apron, orthopedic shoes and all.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “Of course, you are the one in my house uninvited.”

”Yes, um…please forgive.” I was stammering, trying to get my breathing back under control. “No one answered and the door was open.” I faltered, unnerved by the way she was staring at me, without blinking. “So, yeah, my car died and I can’t get a cell signal. I was getting really cold outside. Could, uh, do you have a phone I could borrow?”

“Of course,” she said. “It’s in the kitchen.” I started to follow after her. “Boots off, please. We don’t want to track in snow.”

I hesitated a second before reaching down and unlacing my boots. I was a little unsettled by the old lady, but chalked it up to her probably being uneasy about a stranger showing up out of nowhere.

In the kitchen, I found a phone straight from the 1980’s on the wall but when I picked up the receiver there was no dial tone. I turned around to tell her the phone was dead and saw I was alone. The bad feelings spiked and I headed straight back to the front door, only to find my boots were gone.

”Now, dear.” The voice came from behind me. “First lesson, never walk into someone’s home uninvited.”

Turning slowly, I came to face to face with a large, bloody, butcher knife.

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Bronwyn Green | Siobhan Muir | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris

Flash Fiction Monday – Ghost by Halsey

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The inspiration for this week’s flash fiction is Ghost by Halsey. If you’re interested, you can read the lyrics here or listen to it here.

This is kind of short, but I’m just getting back into the swing of things…

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“Is that guy over there, watching me?”

“Which one?”

“The one by the pool table, with the group. Haven’t seen him play once, just keeps watching me when he thinks I’m not paying attention.”

I sneak a glance over that way again to see if I can catch the guy’s eye and I do, just as he glances away from me. Not bad, tall, dark hair, motorcycle jacket. My type on the outside.

“What do you think, Libby? Going to go introduce yourself?”

“No, I think he might come my way.”

I decided to put myself a little more in the mystery man’s realm and walked through the group of pool tables on the way to the bar to get another drink, Jackson following the whole time. I did my best to look like I wanted to be noticed, without trying to be noticed.

At the bar, waiting for my drink I felt a body move up next to me. A little too close really, unless that’s what you were going for.

“Hey,” he said. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Already have one,” I replied, as the bartender handed me a beer. “But you can join me outside for a smoke if you want.”

“Ok, sure. I’m Ethan.”

“Libby.” Taking a  drink from by beer I turned and lead the way to the back entrance of the bar, the one that let out into an alley between this building and the one next door.

“Lib,” Jackson said, trailing behind us. “What are you doing?”

I ignored him and pulled Ethan along with me. Once outside I set my beer down and pushed Ethan up against the wall, attacking his mouth with mine. He seemed stunned at first, but caught on quick.

“Libby, really,” Jackson was seriously annoyed now. “I thought you said it was going to be just us, for awhile at least. It’s only been a few months.”

I spared Jackson a quick glance, marveling again how the lights in the alley made a halo around his form. And he was right, I had promised him it would be just us for awhile. But, I was weak. And Ethan was cute. And who knew where things would go with him. Just because I made Jackson into a ghost who would stay with me, didn’t mean I would have to do the same for Ethan.

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Jess Jarman | Bronwyn Green | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir | Deelylah Mullin | Gwendolyn Cease

Flash Fiction Mondays

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This month’s song flash fiction is inspired by The Wind Blows by The All-American Rejects. If you’re interested, below are links to the lyrics and a video for the song.

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/allamericanrejects/thewindblows.html

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The cracks in the ceiling were starting to make pictures in my mind. The far corner was an airplane, the group by the bathroom door was a mountain range, but the set over my head, that was a bleeding heart. Poetic, right? Try pathetic.

It’s been four months since she left and this is how I spend most of my days, lying in bed, staring at the cracks on the ceiling and the walls. Trying to figure out how I ended up here. We had been happy, I thought, until the day she walked out on me and left me with nothing but this sad room.

Across the room, a soft beeping pulled me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t even noticed it was so late in the day, but time to get up and get started with my evening. I let the alarm continue for longer then necessary, enjoying the rhythmic sound that matched the tapping of my fingers. Finally, I pulled myself out of bed and shut off the alarm. Time to get ready for work.

The cafe across the street from the restaurant was a perfect place to sit in the evening and observe, and there were enough theater kids that my mostly black wardrobe didn’t stand out too much. And it definitely needed to blend later.

I sat, drinking my coffee, reading a book, and waiting. Watching. And there she was, bringing drinks to a table on the front patio of the restaurant. She looked the same as always, my Amy, long dark hair that she wore in a braid down her back, minimal make-up, and the required bright-colored t-shirt for her waitressing job. She looked amazing.

The rest of Amy’s shift went slowly, brightened only by my glimpses of her each time she had to come outside. But that was okay, I could wait. This wasn’t the first time I had sat at this cafe, spent my evening here, watching. Finally, she left for the night. I let her go, I didn’t need to follow, I knew where she was going and I knew the way.

Outside her window, I waited for the lights to go out. Once they did, I climbed up the tree to her second floor bedroom window which was cracked. She always did like to sleep with the window open. As silently as possible, I climbed inside and set my bag of tools on the floor next to the bed.

“Hello, Amy,” I said, as I sat down next to her. Her eyes flew open and I put my hand over her mouth. “You took my heart when you left. Now I’m going to take yours.”

 

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Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir

Flash Fiction Mondays

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 Walking into Nick’s apartment I let out a little scream. “What the hell is that?”

“What? My painting?” he asked. “It’s my term project.”

“That’s your self portrait for Turner’s class?

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?”

Nick sounded hurt, or maybe offended that I didn’t seem to love his work.

“It’s, just, a little disturbing. Especially, considering that its supposed to be a SELF portrait. Also, its a little…well…clockwork-y.”

“That’s the point, Darla.”

“I know what it makes me think of! Oh my gosh, that’s why it’s so disturbing. You’ve been watching too much Doctor Who again!”

Nick let out an offended huff. “Okay, first of all, there is no such thing as too much Doctor Who.”

“True, my apologies,” I said.

“Second, don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked a little too innocent though. Like he was trying to pretend he didn’t know every episode of the show by heart.

“It reminds me of those creepy-ass clockwork people from that stupid episode with fireplace.”

“How dare you insult The Girl in the Fireplace!”

“Ha! I knew it! That WAS your inspiration. Some self portrait.” I turned back to look at the picture again, the gears on the face, the gold paint, the various pipes and pieces of metal. “I don’t get what its supposed to say about you, though.”

Nick looked at the picture with me for a minute, pondering. “I guess its supposed to say, ‘I’m more than just a man, I’m not merely human.'” He seemed very pleased with himself at that deduction.

“Hmmmm, all I get is creepy-ass clockwork. But I’m sure Turner will love it. A+ my friend. A+.”

| Bronwyn Green | Jess Jarman | Kris Norris | Deelylah Mullin |

Flash Fiction Mondays

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The cape only added to the heat, the heavy velvet trapped the humidity and made it even harder to breathe. But is was part of the mystery, no one was allowed to wear “normal” clothing or bring any sort of technology to the gatherings. 

I made my way down the colonnade, hurrying so I wouldn’t miss the beginning and be locked out. I didn’t see anyone else but that didn’t necessarily mean I was the last to arrive. There were so many ways to approach the gathering place that it was almost as if the others appeared as if from nowhere.

As I got closer, I could hear voices, low and musical. Just talking at this point, so I wasn’t late. I slipped through the door and joined the first group I saw. 

“Are we starting, soon?” I asked.

“Soon,” one of the others said. “We’re just waiting for the signal.”

Just a couple of minutes later, the signal came. The lights went out and silence fell immediately. There was shuffling as everyone got into position, at this point we all knew our places and didn’t need illumination to know where to go.

The silence endured as we waited for it to begin, our whole reason for being here.

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by a loud, single beat. Then another. On the third beat, the movements began. Synchronized and swirling, we moved, forgetting about the oppressive heat. It went on for minutes, the choreographed chaos.

The music stopped and we all froze.

“Alright, everyone,” came the voice from the balacony. “That was better. But this flash mob is happening in just a couple of weeks. We need to be on point. Again!”
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Jess Jarman | Deelylah Mullin | Bronwyn Green | Kris Norris

Flash Fiction Mondays

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This week’s flash fiction is inspired by “Little Heaven” by Toad the Wet Sprocket. If you’re interested, you can read the lyrics or give it a listen.

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“So, this is it, huh?”

“Seems like it.”

Daniel reached over and took my hand as we watched the scene unfold below us. People were running every direction, panic clear in the way they rushed about with seemingly no purpose other than to get as far away as possible. We could hear crying and screams, although from this distance no actual words made it through.

“Is this really the right way, Daniel? Are we supposed to just watch this happen?”

We both looked at the sky as the clouds visibly gathered and darkened, almost as though we were watching a time lapse film of a storm moving.

“You know the rules, Hannah. We are simply here to observe. That has always been our job. We do not interfere. We watch.”

He was right, I knew the rules. We’d been following them for long enough, but this was, I don’t know if heartbreaking was the right word. Senseless, maybe. Pointless. And still, we watched.

As one we turned to the east at the sound of an explosion. Daniel watched dispassionately as a large warehouse exploded, for no reason I could see, sending large pieces of flaming roof pouring down over the people trying to flee.

We could so easily help, get people to safety. Even stop the gathering storms if we were so inclined. But those weren’t the rules. With a crack of thunder the clouds burst open and a torrential rain fell, flooding streets. We saw people and cars washed away like so much debris and still, we did nothing.

Abruptly I realized Daniel was no longer by my side, but standing in front of me, blocking my way. “I can feel your indecision, Hannah. And if I can, so can the others. Do you want Raphael to come down here? Or Michael? It will be so much worse for these people if our brothers decide to become personally involved.”

He was right, Daniel was always right.

“Why create something like this only to destroy it?” I asked. The age old question, one we’ve asked time and again. Looking into the distance, far beyond what the people below could see, there was more smoke, more rain, more destruction. It was a never ending hellscape.

“It’s time to leave. We’ve seen all we need to,” Daniel said, gesturing toward the scene behind him. “Nothing is going to stop this now, that’s all we had to see to.”

I wanted to cry for these people, cry and scream about the unfairness of what happening to them. But I couldn’t, crying was impossible for me. And screaming would no good, in fact it would only make things worse. The kindest thing to do for them was to leave them on their own.

As one, we turned, our wings effortlessly lifting us into the sky. It was time to leave. Daniel was right, there was nothing more to watch. The apocalypse had come, those that were meant to survive would. And so would we. After all, angels were forever.

Check out the links to below to see what the other bloggers came up with:

Brownyn

Kris

Jess

Flash Fiction Mondays

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photoprompt

Handprint

“Keep running!” Gabe said, pushing at my back. “Don’t stop!”

I didn’t take my eyes off the scenery in front of me, not wanting to lose my footing and fall. Running through the woods in the dark was dangerous, I had to trust that Gabe was sticking close and we wouldn’t get separated. At this point, we weren’t even trying to be quiet, crashing through the underbrush and snapping twigs as we went. If someone was following us, we certainly couldn’t hear them.

After a few minutes of running almost flat out, I felt a hand wrap around my wrist and had to stifle a scream. We weren’t trying to be quiet, but I didn’t need to make extra noise. Gabe pulled me up beside him and whispered in my ear.

“I think we need to go this way,” he tugged on my arm to indicate the direction he meant. “The cabin should be over here, not far. We can hide there until morning.”

“Won’t they know to look for us there?”

“No, it’s abandoned. Unless you know about the cabin specifically, it’s hard to find.”

We started off again at a slower pace, trying to be quieter, listening this time to see if anyone was out there. We’d been making our way up the mountain through the woods for at least an hour at this point, trying to get away from Victor’s men.

In reality, I’d been trying to get away from Victor’s men for the last year, and I thought I finally had until they showed up at the lodge tonight. Gabe had taken one look at my face and known something was wrong, but he didn’t know the whole the story. That didn’t stop him from getting me out of there as quickly as possible though. We made it to my car only to find all four tires slashed. At that point, we headed into the woods.

Gabe had worked at the lodge in high school, so he knew these woods. Or so I hoped. We just needed to find somewhere to stay until morning when we could make our way off the mountain in the light, or possibly to a ranger station.

We made it to the abandoned cabin right as the rain started to fall, slowly at first but harder as we circled the cabin looking for a way in. Finally, Gabe decided to just break a window and reach through and unlock the door. Using his sweatshirt he managed to muffle the sound some, but it still seemed to echo across the mountain. Or maybe that was just my rising paranoia.

Inside it was musty smelling and everything was coated in a layer of dust, clearly no one had been here in years. That was a good sign. There was a fireplace but that was out of the question, the smoke would be too visible. Instead we found some questionable blankets and huddled on the sagging couch, trying to get warm. And I was trying very hard to ignore the idea that there were probably mice living in the furniture, at best.

We managed to doze off eventually, exhausted by the trek through the woods and the letdown from the adrenaline. A crash of thunder that rattled the windows startled both us from sleep some time later, causing my heart to pound in fear. It took a few minutes for me realize what had woken me and that it was just the rain, now a storm, and not someone breaking down the door.

Standing up to stretch, I wandered around the cabin peering out the windows trying to see out into the storm. Turning to look out the kitchen window, I saw a sight that made my blood run cold. A single handprint in the fog on the outside of the window.

“Gabe,” I screamed. “They found us!” Turning back towards him, trying to think of anyway out of this, I saw Gabe walk towards the door of the cabin. “Don’t,” I said, “they’re out there!”

“I know,” was all Gabe said as he opened the door and let in Victor’s men.

Check out the stories the other bloggers came up with:

Bronwyn
Kris
Paige