Tag Archives: death

Cliffhanger Conclusion

Last challenge from Chuck Wendig was to write a story that ended on a cliffhanger.  So, inenvitably this week we needed to pick one of stories from our fellow challengers to finish.  I went with The Highway by Jreinmiller.  

My Finish to The Highway

The rail groaned as the car smashed through it. The whine of metal into metal reverbed through the car.


“We’re going to die!” The gun forgotten in the father’s hands.


Sam heart banged around in his throat. The car tipped forward over the edge. His stomach turned, the car swayed once. Another groan and it lurched forward.


Both men let out yelps. The gun clattered to the ground. For a moment Sam felt a sense of relief. Then, the car tipped, tumbling down. Everything seemed to slow down as the ground got closer. Each second felt as if it lasted forever.


His eyes closed as he remembered everything that lead up to now. It was going to a normal day, Sam thought, he’d thought he go home, drink a beer, and watch the game. And, now it was over.


“Sam.” A voice echoed all around him. All sense of motion was gone. The sounds of screams, and torn metal gone.


His eyes fluttered open to a white room, with a robed figure standing in front of him. “What’s going on?”


“That’s a good question.” The figure’s voice was toneless.


“I don’t understand.” Sam twirled around. The terrified thrill of earlier changed into something darker.


The figure gave a slow nod. “You know your limits, this is good.”


Sam’s throat worked up, but he couldn’t swallow. “I’m dead.”


The figure shook its head. “No, you are wrong. You are alive. None of this matters.”


At a loss Sam stared. After a shrug he ran his hand over his face. “How am I not dead? The crash, the car falling. This doesn’t make sense.”


“You ask many good questions. None of them revealing. Only one question matters. Life or Death?” The figure’s hands rose palm up.


“For who?” The rapid beat of his blood slowed, Sam shuddered.


“That question doesn’t matter now. Do you want to choose life?” A white light appeared in the figure’s left hand. “Or, do you prefer death?” A black light appeared in the right hand.


“I want to live. I wouldn’t mind if that bastard died. He was going to kill me.” A lance of guilt hit Sam. What if the guy really did have a sick daughter?


The figure shook its head. “You can’t have both. Life. Death. You may only have one.”


Sam paced back and forth. The thoughts in his head scattered. How could he make a choice, when he didn’t even know what it meant. But, Sam knew he didn’t want to die. “Life, I pick life.”


The dark light shrivelled up, and the white one expanded all around Sam. A flash and the once again the car dived at the canyon floor. “Oh god, oh god.”


Pain spiked his body as the car smashed in around him. A warm liquid pooled around his legs, and sides, his left arm went numb. The gunman’s body smashed against the ground, his body still. “Are you alive?” No response as agony made it hard for Sam to think.


A voice whispered in his ear. “The girl lives.” The sound of sirens was the last thing Sam heard.




Filed under Babblings, Writing Challenges

Death Sex Assassin

This week’s challenge was to use one of ten winning lines as a starting point.  http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2013/07/12/flash-fiction-challenge-last-lines-first/  This one is actually set on Amon.  I read the line and this was the first thing that popped into my head. A little weird, but I like it.  


Death Sex Assassin

“Truth be told, I’m not sure any of them are actually dead.” He finished up his boring story while massaging my breast. I let out a breathy moan as expected. I don’t know why clients felt the need to impress me. They’d paid the noble house for my services. With Graan it was always the same. ‘I’m an important mercenary, I work for a noble.’ I do too. This is Amon everybody works for a noble, or is one. I didn’t even listen anymore.


The door flew open as a man wearing bland slacks and with long blonde hair stepped inside. His arms swept up as I realized he had a huge rifle. I fell off the bed as the air crackled. Graan grabbed his gun and fired over the bed. He shouted at me. “Don’t worry babe, I’ll protect you.”


I snorted. As if I wanted some half baked, sex addled mercenary to protect me. I scooted my bare ass across the plush carpets now littered with bits of my dresser and bed curtain. My fingers wrapped around a gun hidden behind the dresser. I might be a high price prostitute, but I didn’t expect the house to keep me alive.


Graan popped off a few with a roar. “You won’t get me assassin.”


Ko,” I cursed under my breath. Assassin, unlike the other worlds, isn’t some guy who just kills people. An assassin is an elite operative. For the first time I wished I had been listening to Graan babble on.


“Hey, assassin. I’m not involved in this. Can I go?” I raised my voice as loud as I could manage.


Graan turned and gaped at me. His bright blue eyes a little watery. I valued my life more than our business arrangement.


The assassin chuckled. “Mirsi, you’re the only woman he ever sees. My clients aren’t interested in letting you wander off. You’re suppose to go with me.”


I gritted my teeth. That probably meant torture. I’d already been tortured once for the what I might know about a client. I really didn’t feel like going through it again.


Guns blazed from both sides of the bed. Each one tore up my delicious bedroom. Hot, thick blood drops splashed my whole body. The feeling was familiar, and unwelcome. The copper taste coated the inside of my mouth. Graan’s arm bleed freely dripping all over my ocean blue carpet.


I eyed the emergency button, however the assassin hovered by it. There wasn’t a chance I could get it without getting killed. And, I wasn’t really sure the security would be willing to attack an assassin. I dropped to my belly sliding under the bed. Neither men paid any attention. “Graan, give it up. The family knows you betrayed them.”


The sound of spit came from behind me. “They don’t know ko. I didn’t betray them. I did the job I was paid for.”


“That’s not what I heard from my clients.” Assassin replied with the elegant mix of arrogant disregard. I kept crawling until I could see part of his shoes from under the duster.


“Not my fault the kid was stupid and ran out front. I did my best.” Graan’s voice seemed quaver to me. I wondered if he got the kid killed.


The assassin fired a few shots. My time was short. As they started to fire back and forth I let loose my own shots. A yelp as the assassin was unexpectedly shot in the foot. My aim could use some work.


Even as his body hit the floor he fired under the bed. I rolled out. I still got several in my upper thigh. Not the first time I’d been shot, and it wasn’t any more fun this time around.


Graan leapt over the bed firing down at the assassin. He moved around evading the shots. I jerked up to my feet watching even more blood stain my carpet. I squeezed the trigger as I moved forward. The assassin couldn’t avoid both us. The bullets pounded him, and he let out a shuddering final breathe.


Graan let out a hoot behind me. I turned my gun still clutched in my grip. “What are you so ko’ing happy about?”


“I knew you were faking him out, babe. Now, I can get you out of this house, and we can be together.” His blue eyes beaming at me. He ripped what was left my bed sheets into strips. The strips got tied around his bleeding arm.


Of all the things I’d ever heard, this had to be the dumbest. Did he think we were lovers divided by the cruel house matron? “Graan, I’m not running away with you. I worked hard to get into this house. I can have whatever I want here. And, if I did run the house would chase me till I was dead.”


“I gotta plan, we can go off world. My Nobles wanna kill us, and I spend most of my time off world anyway. I only came here cause the contract was so good.” The big blue eyes locked onto the dead body. “Look how it turned out.”


A terrible, and worrisome thought struck me. “Why do they want to kill us, Graan?”


“Oh, they know about our love. I tell you all my secrets. You probably know more about their organization than they do.” He laughed, as if it was funny.


I limped to the other side of the bed and looked at him. “Sorry, this isn’t going to happen.” I lifted the gun, tugged the trigger, and watched his brains decorate my wall. His body slumped down at my feet. Today was turning out to be familiar in the most unpleasant way.



Filed under Amon, Single Shot Stories, Story Chains, Writing Challenges

Annabel’s Family

A very late post for Chuck Wendig’s weekly challenge.  My family vacation got me behind on all my writing.  But it was worth it.  This week’s challenge was to write about a bad dad, but make him sympathetic.  Since, I grew up with an abusive father, it was pretty hard for me to write, but I enjoyed it.  Wish the story was a bit more upbeat.  Check out the contest here http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2013/06/16/19188/

Annabel’s Family

“Annabel!” I hated the sound of his voice. It was too high pitched for a man, and gravelled like a long time smoker. He was drunk, again. Strangely enough, whenever he was drunk he called my mother Annabel, instead of Anna. He would never answer as to why when he was sober.

A sliding step, with a crash followed by a long string of profanity. He slipped on his bad leg falling into a small table by the door. I pushed aside my college textbook. The words were beginning to blur anyway. The heavy oak furniture had taken on dark tones since I only worked from one small desk lamp. I stepped outside the office to look at him balled up on the floor.

“Travis?” He squinted up at me. As he adjusted I noticed blood leaking down his nose.

“Yeah, Dad, I’m the only one here. You got yourself in the nose.” I managed to not mention it was a regular occurrence. In his state he’d just get defensive.

He pressed against his nose and blood spurted out. He pinched it tight and held his nose upward. “Sorry, I know I’m a mess.”

I felt a tinge of guilt. He didn’t mean to fall apart like this. I pulled him up with ease, he’d lost so much weight. “Don’t apologize to me. You are hurting yourself a lot more than you’re hurting me. I’m a big boy these days.”

He leaned into me. “You seem like a little boy to me still. Your mother always says you’ll never be a big boy to her.” It always seemed odd that he never slurred his words. Guess he wasn’t that kind of drunk.

His arm wrapped around my neck. Most his weight on me as we made the slow walk to his bedroom. The family pictures bright and happy. My mother had installed little LED above them that were light sensitive. She wanted to always be able to see them no matter the time of day. To this day it made me roll my eyes.

Lost in my own thoughts I didn’t notice my dad digging his heels in. He stood in front of a family portrait of us standing in front of Niagra Falls. “We loved it there.”

Before answering I thought of it. The spray of water and the majesty of the falls was unrivalled. Even as a small kid I understand the beauty of it. “Yeah, we did. I loved most of all our vacations. You picked the sights, and my mom made it all work.”

“Did you talk to your mother today?” He asked me nearly every day.

“No, I didn’t. Did you?” My same answer every day, I wish he didn’t ask.

He shook his head as he stumbled forward. “I forgot. I thought about her all day, but I forgot to talk to her. What kind of man am I? I made my son drag my drunk ass to bed, and I don’t talk to my wife.”

“Dad…” I started. He already felt bad enough; I didn’t need him to beat on himself more.

A twist of his shoulder as he fell into his door knocking it open. With a loud thump he landed on his bedroom carpet. “Enough, I need to man up. You know what today is?”

“I do.” As if I could forget. The sound of metal scraping and compacting together. Screams, and moans of hurt, and the dying. The flow of warm blood running down my arms. Even the smells burning flesh, and leaking oil forever imprinted on my mind. A year passed and the memories hadn’t even dulled.

He pulled himself up and switched on a hologram. My mother’s image appeared a placid smile on her lips. “Hello, Anna.”

The image said nothing. I tried to bite my tongue, but the words wormed their way out. “Dad, she’s dead.”

The room went dead still. It always went like this. He would shut down, he couldn’t deal with it. The desire to shout until he accepted it filled me. I beat it down, and went to step out the room.

“I know.” His voice low.

“What?” I turned to see his shoulder’s slumping.

His shoulders shook. “I know, Son. She’s gone, and she isn’t coming back. And, I’m useless to you. I can’t work, I can’t take care of myself, I serve no purpose anymore.” A cry escaped from him. “If Annabel was alive she be disgusted by me.”

I should have said something.  For a year it was all I wanted. For him to acknowledge she was gone. To stop pretending to talk to her every day. And now that it had happened I couldn’t absorb it. It felt like she finally died for me as well. My legs gave out and I landed hard on the floor. I buried my head into my hands and let out a sob.

A click noise caused me to lift my head. He held a gun pressed against his temple facing my mother. “I can’t do it, anymore. I hate myself, and what I’ve become. I love you, close your eyes.”

I jerked forward to shove him down. But, he was too fast. The sound seemed to explode outward to fill every crack and crevice. The wet, hot bits landed all over me. And his body slumped to the ground. I laid beside him for a moment. “You abandoned me, again.” I whispered.  I stood up, and headed to the phone to call the police.

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Filed under Babblings, Writing Challenges