#FridayFictioneers – Voices

PHOTO PROMPT © J.S. Brand

Stacy looked out back and started.  Marv crouched there in underpants, chisel in hand, carefully working the huge chunk of wood, making… something?

“Marv?  Marv, what are you carving?” Stacy called from the now open rear door. “Come in Marv, you’ll catch cold.”

Marv kept working, ignoring the cold as he ignored his wife.  He had no answer.  The voices hadn’t said what it was.

“Get in here before the neighbors see!”

“Finish!” the voices screamed.  “Finish!”

Marv worked frantically, obeying the voices.  Stacy’s cries blew away like wind, drowned by the voices.  Only the voices mattered.

“Finish, finish, finish.”

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – The Game of Kings

PHOTO PROMPT © Jeff Arnold

Benny sat the chess board on the table and placed the pieces.

Larry had always said that they were playing “The game of kings” as the pieces settled on the board

“Then why are we playing?” Benny always answered back.

The board set, Benny pulled out the ouija, placed his hands on the teardrop shaped pointer and thought of his friend.  “You first,” he said.

The pointer moved, letter to letter, allowing Benny to construct the words.

“Queen’s pawn to D4,” the board spelled out.

Benny smiled, knowing that would be his friend’s first move.  Same ole Larry, he thought.

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – Reclaimers

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

The cleric stood atop the dais, speaking softly to the assembled circling the alter.

“Tonight!,” he exclaimed.  Fire erupted from torches bathing the assembled in fierce heat.  They pulled away, then leaned in as soft words accompanied the flames dwindling.  “Go forth.  What has been taken will be reclaimed.”

“Yes,” they shouted.  “Yes, we will reclaim!”

“Bring fire upon the unbelievers.  Rise up, strong and fierce,” he elongated fierce, accenting it with another gout of flame.

With destruction in their hearts, they poured from the assembly.

The cleric, his work done, retired atop the tower to watch the world burn.

WC:  100

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#FridayFictioneers – First Job

PHOTO PROMPT © Jilly Funell

Jake smiled as he read the text.

coffee shop.  mall.  5

Excited for his first job since the Army, he showered, dressed, and set out early.  It would be nice to get back to what he knew.

She sat alone sipping from a white paper cup.  The over-sized sunglasses fell short of covering her swollen black eye.

“Sarah?”

She nodded, pulled a bulging envelope from a small pink purse, and slid it over.

***

Jake compared the picture to the black haired man held in the cross-hairs.  It was him.  His breathing slowed melting the nerves away, exhaled and pulled the trigger.

WC:  100

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#FridayFictioneers – Getting Down

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Billy sat stunned in the grass watching Sally climb.  She was half monkey.  More than half.  She scaled the shear wall, finding invisible holds, ascending the ancient stone with ease.

“Come on up,” Sally called from from her perch atop the wall, receiving a doubtful look in return.  “I’ll guide you.”

Wanting to be like his big sis, Billy placed hesitant hands to stone.  Then he was climbing under Sally’s direction, finding invisible holds until he was too high to fall and too low to reach Sally.

“Help!”

Walking away, Sally called back, “Help?  But getting down is so easy.”

WC:  100


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#FridayFictioneers – Needed

PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

“Hallelujah,” Bob exclaimed as the elevator door opened.  He unslung his pack as he stepped into the lobby, computer booting before reaching the table.

It had been a long night driving.  Traffic was horrible.  The kids were wound tight, but were down now with his wife, fast asleep.

He should sleep too, but the story came to him driving, and wouldn’t wait.  Bloodshot eyes locked onto the coffee table.  Just what he needed.

Cold black syrup filled the cup.  The first sip went down with a grimace.  The second was better, not good but needed.

Time to get to work.


#FridayFictioneers is a weekly blog link up hosted by Rochelle over at RochelleWisoff.com. You should totally check it out and perhaps try your hand at writing a 100 word story.

Good luck!

Warriors – Episode 9 – Getting Out of Town

This was written as part of a larger story delivered in a serial format.

Previous episodes can be found here.


Colt stood and pissed in the corner before kicking chamber pot over. Everything he owned went into a leather apron wrapped bundle, which was little more than a single change of clothes and a metal spike, and walked out the door.

He paused at the stairs and looked back over his shoulder. His life had been spent in that room. It was all he knew, all he had besides the small bundle he held tight to his chest. What a waste, he thought as he sat his bundle on the floor. He removed the spike and slipped it into his boot before stepping away from the door.

The darkness of the forge was complete. Heavy wood shutters that propped up to provide shade in the day, folded down providing security at night, keeping any light from star or moon at bay. Colt took small shuffling steps in the darkness, hands stretched out before him, searching for the door. He found it in moments, a lifetime of working the forge let him find his way easily in the dark.

What he was going to do after opening that door, he didn’t know. He did know that it was time to go. Time to step into the outside world.

Colt pushed the door to find it locked from the outside. Of course. He stepped back, kicked, and heard the lock rattle. He kicked again, before dipping a shoulder and charging, but the door was thick, the hinges forged by Colt himself were strong and the lock held firm.

Slumping defeated against the unmovable door, the darkness pressed in on him as he contemplated going back upstairs. Anger welled up in him and his eyes moistened. His escape was ended before it began.

The hope, so strong, that had brought him downstairs, that had allowed him to piss in the floor, had left him broken and crying just one flight of stairs later. Dawn began to seep through cracks in the thick shutters giving Colt’s eyes, deprived of any light for hours, sight enough to make out his surroundings.

Sight brought clarity to his mind. Master Ham would be there soon to open the shop. Not long after Crandall would show up wanting the swordax. The swordax.

He pulled the weapon from the wall and tested the weight of it. It felt right. Like escape. Walking back to the door, he hefted the weapon over his shoulder and swung. Wood flew in chunks as the heavy weapon smashed into the door.

Colt stepped into the emptiness of the city’s dawn. The sun barely broke the horizon but seemed bright to his light deprived eyes. Soon it would climb high, the salt wind would blow, and the street would flow with people going about their business. Master Ham would be one of them. He decided that it would be a good idea if he was gone by then.

Colt ran, not bothering to leave the main road. The world slept around him, their slumber providing cover for his escape.


This is the ninth installment of my serial lovingly named Warriors.  It is my goal to have a new episode every week or so depending on how life goes.  Please bear with me if I’m not as punctual as I would like.  Another portion will be posted soon with a target word count between 500 and 1,000.

If you would like to read the previous episodes, I have linked to the Warriors page at the top of this post!

I hope you enjoyed this portion of our story!  I look forward to seeing you as we continue the journey and welcome any comments you may have.

Thanks for visiting!