Flash Fiction Friday 2024 – Week 30
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.
Captain Slut
The city of Amberville gleamed in the golden light of the setting sun, its tall skyscrapers reaching for the mass of clouds above, but amidst the soaring architecture and bustling streets, a dark secret lay hidden. A secret that threatened to bring the world as we know it to its knees.
Our hero, the dashing and powerful Captain Valor, had dedicated his life to protecting the people of Amberville from threats both mundane and supernatural. With his chiseled jaw, piercing blue eyes, and bulging biceps, he was the epitome of masculine strength and virtue. But even a hero as formidable as he could not resist the seductive wiles of the villainess known only as the Crimson Siren.
Her name sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest souls in Amberville, for the Crimson Siren was a woman of unparalleled beauty and danger. Her long, flowing locks were the color of blood and her green eyes glittered like emeralds in the darkness, promising both ecstasy and destruction to those who dared meet her gaze.
(…)
Eternal
The mask was a curious artifact, its surface etched with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and dance in the flickering candlelight. Legends whispered of its power to ensnare the minds of those who dared to gaze upon it for too long, bending their wills to the mysterious force that lay dormant within its ancient confines. Many had sought to wield its power for their own gain, only to fall victim to its seductive allure.
As the mask lay nestled in its velvet-lined case, a soft glow emanated from within, casting a hypnotic spell over all who beheld it. Its allure was undeniable, drawing the curious and the reckless alike into its thrall. Those who dared to put it on found themselves consumed by a strange sense of euphoria, a heady rush of power coursing through their veins as they surrendered themselves to its influence.
But with power came a heavy price, for the mask demanded unwavering obedience from its subjects. Those who fell under its spell became obedient thralls, their thoughts no longer their own. No one could control it.
Or so they thought.
(…)
Resilience
Lucas was sitting in the plush armchair of Juno’s office, surrounded by the soothing scent of cinnamon and lavender candles that flickered in the warm and inviting space. The walls of the office were adorned with tapestries depicting ancient symbols of strength and determination that drew the eye of anyone that walked inside. Juno, with her enchanting green eyes and long silver hair tied up in a ponytail, stood before the late-thirties man, her voice a melodic hum as she delved into the depths of Lucas’s consciousness.
“As you relax deeper inside your mind, envision yourself stepping into a realm of boundless energy and vitality,” Juno’s voice echoed around the room, lulling Lucas into a state of serene tranquility. The gentle sway of the hypnotic pendulum in Juno’s hand danced before Lucas’s eyes, binding him to its rhythmic motion.
“You are strong, Lucas. Stronger than you think and what others give you credit for,” she continued. “You are filled with a desire to embrace the power within you and to sculpt your body and mind into a vessel of pure resilience. That will be your middle name from now on: Resilience. Nothing can put you down. Nothing at all.”
(…)
They’re Yours
“What’s this?” Mark’s voice trembled as he held up a lacy red dress that did not belong to Gloria. His heart pounded in his chest as he surveyed the array of unfamiliar clothing hanging in his closet. Silk blouses, high heels, even a delicate pearl necklace that sparkled under the soft light filtering through the blinds. Each item was a betrayal, a silent accusation that clawed at Mark’s insides.
Gloria’s eyes widened as she took in the scene before her, her breath catching in her throat. She had never seen Mark like this before – his calm demeanor replaced by a storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes. She knew she had some explaining to do, but finding the right words was impossible in that moment.
“What’s what?” she asked.
Mark turned towards her, anger simmering beneath the surface. “Whose are these?” His voice was low and dangerous, each word dripping with hurt and confusion. “Why are there other women’s clothes in my closet?”
(…)
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