FLASH FICTION:-- HORROR, SCI-FI, HUMOUR, CRIME, SLICE OF LIFE, ETC.

Friday 31 January 2014

Infectious laughter


He was the first.

He just couldn't stop laughing.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

He laughed until he died of mirth, and the laughter echoed around the room, bounced off the walls, ricocheted off the window, then flew out through the gap under the door.

The laughter hit a passing cleaner, who then laughed all the way to the bus stop, and all through the ride to her job at the airport, infecting everyone she passed along the way.

Soon, the whole world would be laughing... and dying.


©2014 Stephen. J. Green.

Friday 24 January 2014

From the stars


He hung.

From the stars.

Eventually he fell.

All the way.

Completely, utterly in love.

She fell too.

From the dark.

They melded.

They would have many babies.


©2014 Stephen. J. Green.

Friday 17 January 2014

Percentage of life


He rarely dropped below ninety five percent, and was rather alarmed to find that he was under eighty percent and still decreasing.

“Cerebra, run a systems check, there appears to be a malfunction in the life support system, or maybe a fault in the monitoring circuits.”

“All systems functioning at optimum, no faults or malfunctions to report.”

“Cerebra, I am at less than eighty percent, something has to be wrong.”

“Negative, all systems functioning at optimum.”

He squirmed slightly in the confines of the pod, the small movement giving a little more comfort.

All around him the ship hummed and thrummed as it streaked its way through the star system.

“Cerebra, how do you account for the drop in life force?”

“The passage of time is having a melancholy effect on your thought processes, resulting in a lowering of psychological and physical resistance.”

This was a cause for concern, if he dropped below fifty percent he would lapse into deterioration and gradually drain away into non-being.

“Cerebra, do you have any suggestions on how to halt the drain?”

“You need to have less wake time, you need to return to sleep, to recharge.”

His digits flickered over the keypad built into the arm rest, programming in for eighty light years of dreamless hypersleep.

Minute motors came to life, liquids ran through tubes, the catheter twitched slightly as it fed the corrupted juice into his bloodstream.

Sleep came, and with it came dreams.

He dreamt of home, and family. He dreamt of the seven suns and the blue landscape.

With the dreams came sadness, a longing for what he had, for what he would never regain.

As the dreams stretched through the years so his sadness deepened.

His life force trickled down to fifty percent, then below, and continued falling.


©2014 Stephen. J. Green.

Friday 10 January 2014

Harringbow


Harringbow came with his band
And laid waste to the demon's land
Put to the blade his kith and kin
Burnt and slaughtered all within
Then eastwards travelled on his way
Happy with his deeds that day
The demon returned from darkest doings
Saw his home in flames and ruins
Then set off in a fitful rage
Harringbow's band to engage
Whomever he did chance upon
When asked for answers, they had none
He ripped them screaming limb from limb
For secrets that they kept from him
Someone must tell, someone must know
The whereabouts of Harringbow
And forward on, he searched still more
He tore his way, with tooth and claw
The whole night long, through man and beast
'Til sunrise came upon the east
Then looking back to whence he'd came
Saw none still standing, shrugged the blame
For all the slick grass in the field
Oiled by those who didn't yield
He turned his back, continued on
Ever eastwards, sparing none
'Til all around the world he'd been
And nought but slaughter had he seen
No sight in any when or where
Of Harringbow, not hide nor hair
From the west returning to his land
Full circle, searching for the band
A second time he trod the path
Created by his awesome wrath
And still a third time, and a fourth
And then he turned his fury north
He cleft his way from pole to pole
And of mankind he took his toll
But Harringbow, unto this day
Has never crossed upon his way.


©2014 Stephen. J. Green.

Friday 3 January 2014

In Finkle woods


Daniel had heard the story of the Finkle woods monster many times, the tales of horror and disappearances, mutilations and partly eaten victims. All codswallop as far as he was concerned. Oh, the monster existed alright, he was absolutely sure of that, just as sure as he was of the gold and diamonds that were hidden in the woods, the riches that were protected from treasure-seekers by the horrific tales.

Daniel had done his research, had read all the books and documents concerning the Finkle woods monster, the truth was there for anyone who could interpret the words. He had nothing to fear from it, the creature relied on the folk tales and superstitions to protect itself and its hidden hoard.

For several days now Daniel had been combing the woods, digging at likely spots, at tree bases and rock formations, and eventually his perseverance paid off.

There was a loud metallic CLANK as his spade glanced off something just beneath the soil surface. A few minutes more earth clearing, and Daniel pulled out a large steel chest, which he prised open to reveal a fortune in gold coins, diamonds and jewellery.

“You must put that back, it belongs to me.”

The gravelly voice had come from behind Daniel.

Daniel rose and turned to face the speaker, a rather frail looking, wrinkly old man wearing an ankle length grey robe. He almost laughed out loud when he saw the pathetic figure that was the Finkle woods monster. “Or what?” He said.

“Or I will just have to eat you.” Said the man, a trickle of drool dripped from one corner of his mouth.

”You won't eat me.” Said Daniel. “I've read my stuff, that's just bluff and bluster, you couldn't possibly eat me.”

“What makes you think that?” Came the reply. Daniel thought it must be his imagination playing tricks, because the old man didn't look quite so wrinkled now, or quite so old, or frail, he looked slightly taller too, and heavier set.

“I know for a fact that you're either a vegetarian or a vegan, and so you couldn't possibly eat me.” Said Daniel. As he spoke the man seemed to grow even taller and heavier looking. A yellow glint tinged his eyes, his teeth seemed longer and sharper, his mouth drooled faster.

“A vegetarian or vegan? What on earth gave you that idea?”

Daniel stared at the man, starting to feel a little unsure of himself now, his confidence draining from him at around the same rate that the man was growing.

“It... It said in the book of lore that you wouldn't eat anything that has a face.” Stuttered Daniel. By now the creature loomed over him, emanating a stench of pure malevolence, its mouth a grinning cavern of needles.

“Yes, the book states the truth, but I fail to see how that knowledge alleviates your predicament.” Snarled the creature as it produced an extremely vicious-looking curved knife from the depths of its robe.

“Well... I have a face...” Spluttered Daniel.

The creature grabbed Daniel by the neck with one of its massive clawed hands, and lifted him several feet into the air.

“Not for much longer you won't.”

Daniel screamed and screamed and screamed as the sharp blade sank deeply into his forehead and began slicing its way down towards his chin.


©2014 Stephen. J. Green.