No Bad Deeds go Unpunished

Genre: Horror-esque

 
Thomas Baker was indeed one of the world’s pessimists. A gaunt fellow in need of some food, clean clothes and a mighty good shave. And a dose of luck. Through a series of misfortunes, Tom Baker had lost everything: his wife, house, job, car and children. Who could blame him for his lack of optimism. I don’t. But the day was coming when his run of bad luck would all change.

In the busy shopping town of Newquey, Tom found his regular spot between a supermarket and a department store. Making himself comfortable – as comfortable as one can be sitting on a concrete floor – he began his desperate mantra to the shoppers: “Please spare me some change, please?”.

A few hours later, with little more than £1.50, Tom was despondent, depressed and dejected. Just as he was about to get up with his measly pennies a voice brought him out of his stupor. He looked up to find an elderly, kind face looking down at him. The man was dressed almost like a Priest, Tom thought. The man had Tom’s attention. And began to share a Secret with him.

Tom wanted proof. Proof that what the man had told him was true. That he could get back everything he had lost, and more. All he had to do was go to some Church situated behind some bend on some avenue somewhere up the road and pray at its altar. Tom thought he knew this town: he’d never seen this Church nor got the scoop from anyone else that it existed. But, Tom had nothing to lose and so began to follow the priests directions on the scrap of paper in his hand. 

Reaching the location, there was indeed a Church and Tom wondered how he’d never seen it before. Okay it’s obscured and a little small, but surely he would have heard of it. Shrugging, he pushes the door open and enters.

Now, The kind Priest is in fact a collector. He takes souls from those who have done wrong in their life. And Tom had done plenty wrong.

He cheated on his Wife, continually. Set fire to his house for an insurance payout, incinerating the dogs in the process. Assaulted his boss causing internal bleeding, a head trauma and broken ribs (and, naturally, was sacked). Crashed his car deliberately for insurance money and severely injured an elderly couple . And he ignored his children their whole young lives. The circumstances he is now in was all of his own doing. And deserves no pity.

He was approaching the altar and getting ready to pray, when the priest stepped out from, to Tom, what seemed like nowhere. “I need you to sign this before you pray”, the Priest told him. Tom signed, not even reading it. He just wanted to get on with getting his life back regardless of the detriment it would cause his family especially. He simply didn’t care.

Folding the papers into his pocket, the Priest mumbled a few words then clapped his hands once.

Tom immediately found himself in his bed, in his home, laying next to his wife. It worked, he thought excitedly, it bloody worked! Hang on, this feels real, he said to himself now thinking it was a bad dream he just had.

But the house? Why is it still standing? Why are the dogs alive and growling at me? Why is my boss also in the bed cuddling my wife? Why are the children just standing there wielding knives? He didn’t understand.

Then his wife stirred. “Hello Dear. Guess what? This is where your real nightmare begins. Welcome to your very own personal Hell and kissed his cheek. Then she and the others turned into The Black Demons – from Hell.

 

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Hello! 🙂 I am soooo glad to have got this story written. I nearly quit when the brain-fog began to enter. It was great to finally finish it.

The Prompt is from a newly found Weekly Writing Challenge I discovered over at Jennifer Kiley’s ‘Secret Keeper’ blog. Click here to check it out. 5 words are given each Monday to weave any type of Poem or Flash piece. The 5 words for this week (#56) are -Proof-Share-Secret-Bend-Scoop. And here is the posts direct link.

And, as always, Thank you very much for reading and come back again soon! 🙂

Poison in a Jar

VisDareThank you to Angela Goff for creating the ‘VisDare’ image prompts each Wednesday for us to write a 150 word Flash-Fiction piece.

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Poison in a Jar

 

“You know she’s poison, right? You let her out and we may as well all be dead”

“But, she looks so sad, so timid”

“That’s what she wants you to think, she’s getting in your head Tony”

Tony could do little but marvel at the figure, sealed in glass for who knows how long. But she must have been put there for a reason, the reason that the poison she carries needs containing. Yet, he couldn’t just leave her.

“Phil, you and the guys go ahead and I’ll catch you up; I want to take some more photo’s of her”.

*

Tony got to work on the jar. And with one mighty crack, the glass shattered.

She untwined herself. And stood for a moment, simply regarding him.

Tony was mesmerised.

“May I thank you?” The creature asked, as she came closer to him.

He could feel her breath entwine with his.

Then he simply just crumbled to the ground and died.

She then began her search – for the rest of them.

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VisDare 63: Poison Photo source here

 

Nature’s Revenge

Copyright -B. W. Beacham

 

Nature’s Revenge

 

The rain, it poured for months. This – the first dry day we’ve experienced – and we see the destruction of its aftermath.

The whole valley was now beneath water; a sea of wastage. Good people losing their homes; neighbours providing board.

But, this on such a large-scale, we know only too well it won’t be long before we are all submerged and have to move outward.

They knew about the problem 30 years ago and acted too late, if acted at all.

We don’t know if this dry spell will last.

But what we do know, is that not before long, drowned, is how Britain will die.

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Friday Fictioneers by Rochelle. Photo prompt source here

 

 

 

 

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Our Liberty is Determined

 

Genre: Dystopian

 

1x-fall-of-liberty-by-c3b8yvind-gregersen1

 

They ruled us, made slaves of us, their own people, we, who shaped this country with our bare hands, putting dirt in its soil, sweating blood, making homes, making the rich richer and this is how they repay us. Enslaving their very children; our forefathers would be ashamed.

We came to the conclusion that without us there would be no land, no harvest from which they could fill their fat bellies, no mines to dig the precious stones and metals they so desired. We put our faith in these men and in return they gave us this: Poor shelter, confinement if we even stepped out of our own boundary, the boundaries they put in place to stop each of us communicating with the others.

Now the time has come and we joined forces: Men, women and even children from across this country to bring down a government so tyrannical in their rule, letting us starve and survive on the measly pennies they threw at us.

Once we were a rich nation full of abundance and wealth with a democracy; despite even then the apparent social unrest, but it got worse. As decades,half centuries and centuries went by, the country found themselves at war with even their allies. We lost.

The dictators piled in and took over our beautiful land and turned it into an unjust and unfair state, creating more poverty than any other nation had known. They were our new rulers now and many believed it was for retribution for how we kept ourselves in years gone by, nourished, clean, prosperous.

This is our story and this is how it ends:

We have formed together, killing the nation we once loved – one stone, one brick, one politician at a time. We are setting the standards for a new world to rule where we can say “This is what we built, this is how it should always have been, this is ours”.

WE no longer fear penalties as there wont be anybody left to distribute them. We are heading for freedom and that means battle and an end to this way of life.

The year is 2513, not the future that was envisioned in 2013. we were set for much bigger things: How they change so quickly and we never saw it coming. Now though we are armed, ready to take down the empire. Brothers, Cousins, Sisters and Friends in the few countries on this globe that is left – all ruled by the sadists that run our own very land, are taking a stand. We found a way to communicate with each other and it wont be before long we are back to better times.

I must rest now as the future needs strong-minded men. And united, we will rebuild this land and the whole planet that we will, again, call home.

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Prompt #FWF ‘Free Write Friday’ Image prompt by Kellie Elmore. Image source here

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What the….?

Genre: Humour/Humor

What the…..?

 

Godfrey Hamilton-Price‘: The most self indulgent, arrogant, pompous, weasel I had ever had the misfortune to date.

The first date: He told me my clothes made me look ‘cheap’; that my hair style looked ‘provocative’; And my shoes were ‘suggestive’.

The second date: He takes me clothes shopping. What he chose, I wouldn’t let my Grandmother wear. Then I had to fake being sick as he tried taking me to a hairdresser.

The Third and final date: Private Jet Plane, to meet ‘Mummy’. I turn up in his worst nightmare outfit. The look on his face, I’d never seen a man so speechless. And after the speech I gave him – I’d never seen one piss themselves either! And I nearly did too!

No doubt though, when he see’s ‘Mummy’ she’ll give him what I imagine a man like him would get – a good old spanking for spoiling his Sunday bests.

And me? I laughed all the way home!

 

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Prompt from ‘VisDare 51: Carefree’ by Angela Goff. Photo Source here

Yuck!

Genre: Humour/Humor

 

Copyright - Janet Webb

Yuck!

I cannot believe my ‘friend’ roped me into this.

That letch of a Bar Man ‘come’ Street Artist makes my stomach turn – and now I am posing for him.

Urgghh.

Thankfully, the few Sangrias are making it more bearable.

I could kill her for this; especially as she is laughing her head off.

As I glare at her I swear he’s licked his lips.

I feel so sick.

And a moment later – I am sick, right over him and his portrait.

She’s shocked, he’s swearing in Spanish – and then it’s me laughing my head off!

Revenge is so sweet…

even if it is tinged with the taste of bile!

                                                               

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Story Prompt: Friday Fictioneers , 113 Words. Photo credit: Copyright – Janet Webb

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