DOH! I did it again! So sorry for not posting last night. I don't know how I spaced it. Thanks to Rebekah for asking me about it...I was asleep when she did, so you get it when I got up. We can extend the deadline if we need to. *EDIT - We will push the deadline back to 6:30am Eastern time to give everyone a full 24 hours* If you need to read the full version of the rules, go here. Otherwise, here's the short version:
Rules:
1. Up to 500 words
2. Keep it clean (nothing rated R or above)
3. Start with the given first sentence.
4. Optional Special Challenge
5. Include Twitter/email, word count, Special Challenge accepted
Oh, and feel free to change pronouns, punctuation, tense, and anything in brackets to fit the story/pov/tone. I'm not going to be TOO picky... Our judge however...
Our Judge today is Rebekah Postupak also known as @postupak (and her contest acct @FlashFridayFic). Go check out her blog here (Where she hosts the Flash!Friday! flash fiction contest every Friday (just in case that wasn't clear...)). Read her winning tale from last week here!
Your first sentence for FINISH THAT THOUGHT #9 is:
[She] waited, trembling, for them to call [her] name.
Your SPECIAL CHALLENGE from the judge is:
The story must take place primarily (preferably entirely) underwater.
AAAAAAAND WE'RE OFF!!! (if a bit late...)
I waited, trembling, for them to call my name. After what I’d done, I knew they would. I felt the sweat on the backs of my knees as I stared at my hands, watching them vibrate like tuning forks. “Breathe.” I forced myself to inhale deeply. “Just breathe.” I exhaled. “Fear is just a feeling. Nothing more.”
ReplyDeleteThoughts raced through my mind as it created one scenario after another, one punishment after another. They could put me outside the shield where I’d eventually be crushed by the weight of the ocean as my body armor gradually failed. I could be sent on a suicide mission in Challenger Deep, fight the Kraken. No one ever returned from that. There was always the coliseum where I’d fight, as a gladiator, until I lost a fight, and died, as a gladiator. Gladiators were undefeated and alive, or defeated and dead. There was nothing else.
“Breathe,” I told myself. “You have no way of knowing that which has not happened yet. All you have is fear of the unknown.” I inhaled deeply, and slowly exhaled. I knew my thoughts were only expressions of my fear. “Fear is just a feeling. Nothing more.”
But there are times fear is a very powerful feeling.
As I waited, I reviewed the events of the past few hours that had led me to this point. How I’d found Bakula, tied to her bed, her hands and feet bound to the bed posts. Naked. A gash in her chest where her heart had been. Her blood soaked the sheets. Sacrificed by one of the religions. It happened all the time. To men, and women.
Bakula had been my mate. To find her with her heart cut out, and gone was too much. I pulled on my armor, pulled my swords from the wall, and did what only a fool would do. I hunted down those that sacrificed my love. Tradition be damned. Religion be damned. Rules be damned. Laws be damned.
They’d taken my love, my life, from me. I took theirs from them.
Bakula was a member of the sect of the Kraken. It was the season of prayer for protection from the monster of the deep. The season always started with the sacrifice of a member. No one volunteered. The Priest of the Kraken controlled the sacrifice. He chose the victim. He’d chosen Bakula.
I’d left a trail of blood behind me as I carved a path through his house guards, to his sanctuary. I’d extracted my vengeance, taking his heart for hers.
Justice was mine. Vengeance was mine.
But the past was past, and I could not undo it. Even if I could, I would not. I would answer when called. I would face what the future held for me. Knowing on the other side of my future, I would be reunited with my love. My Bakula. She who waited for me beyond the veil of life.
491 Words
@LurchMunster
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteGazing into the Abyss
She waited, trembling, for them to call his name. Or hers.
The sweat stained Mayor picked a folded slip, passed it to David to read out.
“David Osborne.”
He crushed it. Dropped it. It rolled to a stop against her foot.
He strode to the hatch, his body no longer warming the space next to her. She felt the impossibly small drop in temperature. But the hairs on her arm bristled for a different reason.
***
“Come on, Em. Don’t be like this. It’s what we’ve worked for all this time.”
“What you’ve worked for, David.”
He yawned, popping his ears. Equalising the pressure of the descent, she knew, but she couldn’t let the chance pass.
“Sorry, am I boring you? At least you can listen now you are in the same room as me.”
“Em, I’m not...”
“...Not what? Not tired from spending all night out... again? Not wishing it wasn’t me here with you?”
His eyes flashed, cold and dangerous like the darkening water surrounding them.
“That’s not fair and you know it! There were a million details to settle recently. Who was going to sort them out – you?”
“...and why not? We started this project together. I know every inch of the design, even if it’s your brainchild. ‘You’re not just a pretty face are you?’ You used to say that when I surprised you knowing about the schematics Well, it seems that just a pretty face was all you were really interested in – once I got your funding lined up. We are – were – a team, David.”
“There’s no ‘I’ in team, Emma.”
“Is that the best you’ve got...?”
“... but there is a ‘me’, isn’t there? If you twist it. The way you twist everything.”
He took a step towards me then stopped. He drew a deep ragged breath. He exhaled as if more air came out than went in. His shoulders sagged, deflated, defeated.
“Whatever. I’m going to glad-hand the VIPs. You have the conn.”
The hatch closed, leaving me alone and still fuming. That was quicker than I expected. He gave in too easily now. You can’t fight properly unless you get in close, and we got so close we swore we’d never be apart.
Who was he close to now, I wondered. I wiped my eyes with my coverall sleeve, making a note to check the humidity later.
My hand hovered over the button. Was I really ready for this?
Hell yes! I slammed the button and held on. We lurched, our descent speed increasing rapidly.
I flicked the tannoy. “Emergency buoyancy loss! Brace for impact! Brace for impact!”
We hit bottom hard.
The VIPs had bickered, but it was obvious. David or I had to man the escape pod.
Two names in the helmet. Let fate decide.
***
The sub rocked as the pod launched with a whoosh.
She had almost emptied the air tanks in it. No chance of making the surface.
She retrieved the crumpled slip. Unravelled it.
‘Emma Osborne’
500 words
@nickjohns999
Compulsion
ReplyDelete499 words (help my story is too long and I can't trim it off!! That was annoying.)
Special challenge accepted.
I waited, trembling, for them to call my name. Tap, tap. I touched the end of each side of my tail fin, twice. Then I traced the line of my waist where my fleshy skin met my scaly skin with my fingertips, back to front, then front to back. (Did I tap my tail twice? To be safe, I did it again.) I then traced the lines of the sculpted rock chair that I occupied, and as I did so a current's gentle flow lifted the ends of my fingers ever so gently.
“Gerald.”
I rose to my fin and apprehensively flipped my tail toward the thick line of sea grasses that cordoned the principal's office. Thinking twice, (always my downfall) I hastened back to my rock and placed my forehead on the back rest and then on the seat of the chair; then again, twice total.
It wasn't as though the sea was going to end if I didn't touch the chair just so. I wasn't going to break out in fishpox if I forgot to trace my body's delineation. There was no oceanly reason to do it twice. There was just that voice in my head.
“You really ought to touch your nose to the nape of the neck of the mer in front of you,” it would say, and though I would certainly disapprove, I would follow through, because the thought of not completing the task would drive my mind to jelly-fish mush. And if I didn't, (and twice, mind you) I would have to find the same spawn later and do it four times.
“Gerald!” Miss Crabby-Crabster sang out in a voice that trilled over several different notes disapprovingly. It wasn't the secretary's real name, of course, but the thought of her scuttling over the rocky floor of some deep-ocean trench always made me laugh.
I rose again and slunk into Mr. Flotsam's cove, uneager to face his disapproving glare and that little piece of seaweed that he always seemed to have stuck in his collar.
“Mr. Trideus. Please, have a seat. I assume you know why you are here?” I think I knew. Was it the fact that I disrupted class three times every hour to stroke Floaty, our sea anemone? Or perhaps that I couldn't walk in line due to my need to stop at every air fountain and run it for exactly five seconds? My constant ear cleaning? My inability to read without turning every page twice? The high-pitched screams I emitted every time someone said the word “eel?”
“I'm going to need to see significant improvement,” he continued, though I think I missed a bit, “or I will have no choice but to suspend you. Indefinitely! You are dismissed.”
Squid on a stick! My parents could be real rockfish about this sort of thing. I needed to shape up.
“I know this is a bad situation,” my little voice said, “But I really can't let you leave without rearranging his desk.”
The Moon, 10,001 BC
ReplyDeleteHe waited, trembling, for them to call his name. He didn’t want Princess Poodypop to make fun of him.
“John Pickypuss!”
And, of course, laughter ensued. Hahahaha. “John!” Seriously, what kind of name is that?? Stupid parents!
“Here!” He slumped his head in shame. “Frap! Every single time!!!”
What he did not notice, however, was Princess Poodypop’s delightful gaze as she snookered over and sat next to him.
“I like your name. It’s sooo… cute!” She placed her hand on his shoulder, causing his heart to leap wildly from his chest.
First day at the Atlantian Underwater Moon Academy, and he had already made his mark!
“Um, I like your name too, Princess Poppycock.” He turned ghastly white and winced as if shot by five harpoons. “Poodypop! I meant Poodypop!”
She laughed so forcefully her perfectly tailored red locks flopped over her radiant face. “You are soooo cute!!!”
Confidence restored, he wiped the sweat from his face and relaxed.
After classes, John accompanied the Princess along the Lunar Mare Tunnel, which ran the length of the sea floor, offering picturesque views of moonfish and the dreaded dragonfish of Tranquility Bay.
“So, how long have you been living here underwater on the moon?” Whew, he did it. An ENTIRE sentence! No gaffes! “Smooth, John, smooth!” he thought.
“Um, only a year or so, underwater. But I’ve lived on the moon for several years.”
“I’m originally from Mars,” he shrugged apologetically.
“Don’t worry,” she assured him, “I’m not one of those anti-Mars girls!”
Whew. Good. “Mars is too red,” he paused, and smacked himself in the head. “Frap. Not that there’s anything wrong with red, ‘cause your hair is red…”
“You are SO SILLY!” And with that, Princess Poodypop kissed him right on the lips. Overwhelmed with emotions surging through his body uncontrollably, he fainted.
When he awoke minutes later, her blurry face morphed into the picture of pristine beauty. His heart pounded as though it would smack her in the face any moment.
“I love you, Poppycock,” were the words that escaped his lips, and his brain, before he could do anything to stop them.
She blushed and laughed hysterically. “You are SOOOO SILLY!!!” And once again, a peck on the lips.
At that moment, he realized… he FINALLY had his first Atlantian girlfriend! He instantly conjured up visions of sailing the lunar mares together and deep-mare diving; riding the moonfish side-by-side and holding on tightly as they bucked twenty feet into the air and crashed back into the waves. Why, they could grab a sail barge and circumnavigate the moon, serenaded by a Jovian Chorus, solar wind in their hair….
Nothing else from that moment on mattered anymore. Not the Moon Wars. Not the scary dragonfish or moon dragons which hid in the craters. All he could think about was that SMILE and those lovely locks of red! Oh, and dimples!
John Pickypuss and Pricess Poodypop. Prince and Princess of the Moon. Forever and ever and ever!
497 words
@ducknado
Special challenge accepted
"The Missing Book"
ReplyDeleteby Crystal Alden, Age 8
284 words
Elina waited, trembling, for them to call her name. She waited and waited until…
“WAIT! Not this one! I’ve got the wrong book again!” I said (my real name is Sophia). “Now let’s see. Not that one, nope, hmmm… Oh, here it is! Oops! Not Cinderella! Let’s see, Jack and the Beanstalk, Three Little Pigs… What are all these kid books doing here? You know, I felt like reading books, and now I want to go to the beach. I’ll take off my earrings,” I said while packing my swimsuit.
So I went to the beach, and went to the new place there called the Dolphin Derby.
“The Dolphin Derby looks like so much fun!” I said.
What you do is enter the contest and choose your dolphin partner. And when they call your name, you try to race the dolphin (nobody really wins). So I went there and I got my partner, Daisy. I asked the person in charge of the Dolphin Derby about the weather, and she said it would be nice for the rest of the day.
But I just knew it wasn’t right, and something was telling me so.
My name was called out next, and I got into the water. I put my arm around Daisy, when I heard a big thunder which made my dolphin swim away with me holding on to her! She was underwater, when I couldn’t hold my breath any longer.
And all of a sudden, I started breathing underwater. My legs started to feel strange, so I looked back, and my legs were no longer there. I was a mermaid!
And THAT’S the book I was looking for.
I just need to write it.
Crystal, that was the most wonderful story I've read all day! Fantastic!!! I loved it!!!
DeleteHello Crystal!
ReplyDeleteI'm not one who has a lot of extra time to comment on every story I come across, but I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you how much I truly enjoyed your flash fiction. A t eight years old, you surprise me!
I love your main character's internal struggles in paragraph two and how easily she shrugs it off and heads to the beach. I love that you include so many details in your story--the rules to the game and the weather. Many authors of flash fiction forget that it is the small things that make a story big. I also think you are well on your way to mastering the twist! Love the surprise ending. FInally, I like how you brought things full circle in the end.
Well done, Crystal!
Duck, Duck, Goose
ReplyDeleteShe had waited, trembling, for them to call her name.
Now they had.
It was her turn.
Duck...
Duck...
Duck...
Duck...
GOOSE!
She leapt away from him, as the desperation flashed across his eyes.
To make it fair the computer had decided, at random.
Around the tight ring, he dove.
His fingers scraped her thigh.
She stumbled. Didn't fall.
The computer was right.
There was a fun way to decide.
They jeered as Thomas walked toward the airlock.
"Bye-bye."
There was the hammer-blow of water flooding the chamber, deep, echoing, ominous.
The pressure outside the dome smashed against the inner door.
Soon the subs would come.
With Tom gone they had air for another day.
Maria waited, trembling, for them to call her name. The other girls weren’t fidgeting in their seats, and she couldn’t figure out why. She’d talked to Luisa and Anna, girls from her neighborhood, before they’d been asked to take their seats, and they’d seemed unnaturally calm. Even Luisa, who had been in the principal’s office every semester since second grade for fighting or yelling or something.
ReplyDeleteShe looked up at the stage and the lone lectern sitting slightly left of center. Maria had expected more ceremony, more artistry, more…something, but there was nothing other than the scraped-up wood and the stub of a microphone.
The man who walked out on stage was exactly as she’d expected, however. Punctual, crisp, neat, with a measured stride that belied his strength, he made his way to the podium in eleven precise steps. Everyone knew the Commander.
He paused, for just a moment – not to review his notes, for he had none, and not to consider the audience, for his gaze was focused not on them, but on the flag hanging on the back wall. Maria couldn’t hold still any longer, and she started to tremble as he opened his mouth to speak.
199 words
@drmagoo
Maria waited, trembling, for them to call her name. The other girls weren’t fidgeting in their seats, and she couldn’t figure out why. She’d talked to Luisa and Anna, girls from her neighborhood, before they’d been asked to take their seats, and they’d seemed unnaturally calm. Even Luisa, who had been in the principal’s office every semester since second grade for fighting or yelling or something.
ReplyDeleteShe looked up at the stage and the lone lectern sitting slightly left of center. Maria had expected more ceremony, more artistry, more…something, but there was nothing other than the scraped-up wood and the stub of a microphone.
The man who walked out on stage was exactly as she’d expected, however. Punctual, crisp, neat, with a measured stride that belied his strength, he made his way to the podium in eleven precise steps. Everyone knew the Commander.
He paused, for just a moment – not to review his notes, for he had none, and not to consider the audience, for his gaze was focused not on them, but on the flag hanging on the back wall. Maria couldn’t hold still any longer, and she started to tremble as he opened his mouth to speak.
199 words
@drmagoo