Flash Fiction Friday 2024 – Week 21

Flash Fiction Friday continues in 2024. New pieces appear every Friday on my Patreon throughout the year. The minimum pledge to read them before anyone else is $3 per month. and the number of pieces available is tied to the monthly pledge total so the more you support my efforts, the more you’ll get to read. Find out what they’re all about and check out some excerpts from this week’s update in this post.

Big Fan

Charles opened his eyes to the gruesome sight of burning pillars of flesh and ash, and a river of damned souls snaking in the distance. He always knew he belonged in Hell. He just didn’t imagine he would get there so soon.

The balding man with a crooked lip was a lawyer or used to be while he was alive. A sleazy and toxic individual, he made a living defending the worst kind of criminal with no remorse whatsoever unless someone tried to stiff him. Sometimes, he would cooperate with law enforcement but only if there was no other way to keep his bank account in the green. He felt dirty around the men in blue and that would never change.

Charles shifted uncomfortably, realizing he was tied up and had been stripped of his clothes. The coarse fibers dug into his exposed skin as he writhed on the stone floor. In front of him lay a black table adorned with an array of sex toys that seemed to mock him in his vulnerable state. The air was scorching and laced with sulfuric fumes. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be able to breathe them for long but there was nothing normal about his condition.

(…)

Crossing the Line

Lucy finished drawing the white chalk line on the bedroom floor and looked at her boyfriend Rory who stood with his arms to the side and his blue eyes half-open, hypnotized. As usual, he didn’t remember being put under, although he always welcomed it for it was his greatest fantasy. He trusted her not to hurt him while he was in a suggestible state, and she always kept that promise. That didn’t stop her from having some fun at the expense of his clouded perception, though.

The late-twenties brunette rubbed her hands together and pocketed the piece of chalk before putting her hands around Rory’s neck and whispering,

“In a moment, I’m going to wake you up. When you do, you’ll have no recollection of being in trance and you won’t remember my words even though you’ll act on them. When you wake, you’re going to see the line on the floor. You’ll see the line and it will be just an ordinary line for you until you try to cross it. When you try to cross the line, it will be as if you hit an invisible wall or a force field from a sci-fi movie. No matter how much you push through, you won’t be able to cross the line. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lucy,” he muttered, his voice distant and relaxed. He always accepted her suggestions no matter how bizarre and that’s what made their hypnotic relationship perfect.

(…)

Long Live Freedom!

The storm raged on outside, with dark clouds swirling overhead and flashes of unnatural purple lightning illuminating the nocturnal sky. Thunder boomed like an angry giant, shaking the very foundations of the earth.

Inside the abandoned warehouse – who had seen better days but at least still had a roof to serve as cover, – a group of fugitive men huddled in fear as they listened to the relentless onslaught of wind and rain. Each crack of lightning filled their hearts with dread.

However, even amidst the chaos and danger of Nature going wild, there was a glimmer of hope in their eyes, for they knew that once the storm passed, they could continue their journey to freedom.

The leader of the gang was a man known as Terry even though until recently everybody called him A-238. Terry had led a successful uprising in one of The New Amazonian Movement’s Brainwashing Centers up north. Twenty-two men – including him – had escaped the facilities on a moonless night after he hacked the door of their cells. Of that initial group, two had been taken out and six more were recaptured to have their minds fried. Fourteen remained but one was injured and in need of medical attention. It was unlikely he would survive another night if they didn’t find help soon.

(…)

Old Flame

As Juno opened the door to her cozy apartment, the warm scent of cinnamon candles enveloped her in a familiar embrace. She dropped her luggage by the entrance and let out a contented sigh. The business trip had been a success but also quite exhausting. Kicking off her shoes away, she padded across the plush carpet towards the living room, where a soft lamplight glowed

“Wait! Why is it on?” she thought to herself. As she turned the corner and peered into the room, her heart skipped a beat. There, sitting on her sofa, was Roxie, wearing a satin white shirt, a leather mini-skirt, and a pair of shiny boots. Her old flame sat with her legs crossed and an enigmatic smile, auburn curls falling over her shoulders. Juno was taken by a rush of conflicting emotions – joy at seeing the one woman she once believed she couldn’t live without, but also a flicker of unease stirring deep inside her chest. Roxie meant trouble wherever she went, and Juno had no reason to believe otherwise.

The proud lesbian’s eyes sparkled as she rose to her feet and closed the distance between them with a few languid strikes. “Hello, Juno,” she said, her voice like a siren’s call. “It’s so good to see you. You look the same.”

(…)

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