Thursday, September 19, 2013

week 34 fanficflashfic

Here's the prompt chosen by this week's judge, @CrackedFic:








Remember to check the rules

Have your 100 - 200 words submitted by 12:01am Friday, September 20, US EDST.

We want anything and everything: poetry, prose, fanfic, OF. 



JUST GET WRITING!




Leave your entry as a comment - include your word count, and your twitter handle if you have one.

Probably good practice to reference any source material, too. 


FYI - entries that exceed (or are under) the word limits will not be considered by the judge.






Also, I've had a few questions lately regarding the submission of more than one entry. Yes, you may submit more than one flashfic. I'm going to say a maximum of two (2) entries though. Furthermore, they're not to be continuations, or related to each other in any way -- they need to be completely separate, stand alone entries. 





P.S. Don't forget to follow @fanficflashfic on twitter.



....


IMPORTANT NEWS HERE:




Yo! Flashers ...

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21 comments:

  1. @moonlit__girl
    195 words


    She splashed water onto her face,
    washed her hands, and slid
    the shiny red dress back over her head.
    Toe-ing her shoes on, she
    tucked the $100 bill into her bra,
    ran her fingers through her hair, and
    checked her lipstick.

    She had to get out of the house,
    the house where punishment had
    always taken the form of belt
    or rope or shoe- never a hand,
    that would have been personal.

    It was the tread on his boot
    imprinted on her left cheek
    that had been his undoing,
    sending her to foster care at nine.
    Sitting on millions, he could have
    gotten her back easily.
    He didn’t.

    That was the last time
    she had seen him
    until tonight, when he was
    just another john,
    old and fat in a rich man’s car.

    He hadn’t recognized her,
    all grown up and made up.
    She considered walking away
    but
    there were things that
    she had learned since she was nine,
    things she wanted to show him.

    Wiping the knife clean, she left it
    next to him on the bed, where he lay
    gutted like a pig.

    “Bye, Daddy.”

    Her heels clicked against
    the black marble floor.

    ReplyDelete
  2. 139 words
    @jdifrans

    That little bitch will never see me coming.

    It would be too easy to take her out with my bare hands. The pathetic little mousy human couldn’t even scratch me, no less fight me off.

    The blade will be a nice touch; no one will suspect a vampire. Once planted on that freak of a boy Mike Newton, the case will easily be closed and Edward will be mine.

    Why doesn’t he understand that she could never satisfy him like I can? He’ll be grieving, so I’ll take him to my bed and show him just what vampires are made for. I can almost feel him now, hand around my throat, marking me as his.

    “You arrogant, selfish, whore. You never had me, Tanya, and you never will. I’m not “marking” you, succubus, I’m tearing your fucking head off.”

    ReplyDelete
  3. @Deebelle1
    Word Count: 199

    I wasn’t a vengeful girl, but revenge can sometimes makes us feel better.

    I hid the knife in the drawer of my nightstand after I checked to make sure the blood red lipstick I put on hadn’t smudged. The leather cuffs were attached to all four posts of my bed, ready for tonight’s little game. The silk slip dress I had on clung to my every curve, and I was positive he would be begging to fuck me before the night even began.

    The sound of the doorbell sent shivers through my body. A sinister grin played on my lips.

    We only hurt the ones we love? I snickered at the thought.

    His eyes lingered on my scantily clad ass as I led him back to my boudoir.

    I teased and taunted him as I removed of all his clothes, begged him to allow me to tie him up before I gave him a show he would never forget.

    He agreed and once he couldn’t move, I began.

    I slipped the knife from its hiding spot and watched his eyes widen.

    “Tell me about the whore you’ve been fucking?” His color drained and I cackled.

    Let the games begin…

    ReplyDelete
  4. Twitter handle: @sri_ffn
    Word Count: 199

    I probably look pure evil, standing beside burning flesh with a flaming torch in hand. Standing on the terrace of a skyscraper, you can see the wind blowing my hair around my face, obscuring my smirk. I don’t regret killing him. I don’t regret killing every single person that I had to kill in order to kill him. I don’t, not because I’m heartless, or maybe I can be considered one, seeing as I haven’t really used it in a long time but because I know he deserved it.

    He deserved it for being a pedophile. He deserved it for trafficking children to pedophiles like him. He deserved it for each and every childhood he murdered by kidnapping those children. He deserved it for what he did to his wife who never knew of his “side business.” He deserved it for our child that he threw into the supply without a care.

    He deserves it for what he did to my little girl before he threw her to the curb.

    He deserves it.

    I fall on the ground, thinking that maybe I deserved it too because I loved and married the man who took away my daughter from me.

    ------End------

    ReplyDelete
  5. @GeekChic12
    Word Count: 200

    My hand shakes as I hold the knife above him.

    I’d use a gun, but it would be too loud, and I don’t have one anyway.

    He’s taken too much from me.

    Left me broken.

    Where is the justice?

    Just because he doesn’t leave physical bruises, that makes it okay?

    You stupid cunt!

    You’re worthless.

    What is this shit? I wouldn’t feed this to my dog.

    Change your fucking clothes. You look like a goddamn whore.


    I hate him.

    Hate what he’s turned me into.

    A sobbing, shaking mess of raw emotions, always tiptoeing around the eggshells.

    I am a shell. The ghost of the girl I used to be fades more every day.

    I don’t see my husband as a person anymore, whose life I’m about to take.

    He is a monster.

    He is hate and anger and rage.

    He is merciless.

    I tilt my head and work to decide where to slice through his skin with my big shiny knife.

    Where will it do the most damage?

    His throat?

    Stomach?

    With a nod of my head and steadier hand, I decide on his heart.

    It’s already dead and black anyway, just like mine.

    He made sure of that.

    ReplyDelete
  6. They call me crazy, but they don't try to understand. Instead, they're petty, accusing, and jealous.

    I twist my wrists in the cold, too-tight steel of the handcuffs and work the heel of my shoe into the wooden bench in front of me, digging out a hole with the sharp tip of five inch stilettos. I press my lips together and wonder if my ruby lipstick has rubbed off yet or if it's still in place. When I look down on red satin, I see blood-smeared beauty.

    I close my eyes to remember what they call my crime.

    I can still feel how warm her blood was. How sticky-sweet justice felt in that moment. I remember his face, too; it plays behind closed lids like a film: shock, then wonder.

    He loves me, you see.

    She is the unjust, the punished. She stole what was mine. He knew it, too. He just wouldn't see.

    They call me names. Ugly things that have no meaning. Delusional, depressed, obsessed.

    Stalker.

    I sigh and open my eyes to white light and emptiness.

    "Swan!" The dull-eyed officer behind the desk calls my name, and I stand to face their accusations.

    My smile is wide.

    @sulliedsoles
    200 words

    ReplyDelete
  7. @Mylisssa
    Words: 134

    Go ahead and walk away.

    Leave your traces here—all over the place.

    Run along and play your games.

    I'll be here still as pretty as when you came.

    You move onto the next, and I don't say a thing.

    Live your life free from me.

    Or so you think.

    I'll be everywhere you thought you saw.

    Every time you'll brush it off.

    What's that noise you heard?

    Don't mind me. I didn't say a word.

    You gel your hair with nasty globs—mask your scent with aftershave smacked on.

    You go out all the time and come home in the middle of the night.

    You think you smell me on your sheets.

    That’s not possible. It couldn’t be.

    One of these days, you're going to pay.

    Unlike you, I won't leave a trace.

    ReplyDelete
  8. @bebeginja
    Word Count: 199

    Previously Charged Pedophile Found Dead in Forks
    AP/September 20, 2013

    Forks, WA (AP)—The Forks Police Department is investigating the death of a man found murdered in his home early Wednesday morning.

    Police say 32-year-old Laurent James was stabbed up to 17 times sometime Tuesday night with a kitchen knife. It is the first homicide in the small town of Western Washington in six years.

    “We have no suspects at this time,” Police Chief Charles Swan said.

    Witnesses say that James had apparently been living in fear for his life, after receiving multiple death threats following his acquittal of child rape and molestation charges earlier this year.

    “He kept to himself, stayed inside,” his neighbor said. “I didn’t hear or see anything last night.”

    James’s high-profile case was dismissed after testimony from three young girls was ruled inadmissible. Another victim refused to testify and remains on suicide watch at Forks Hospital.

    Isabella Cullen, hospital spokeswoman and wife of the hospital’s Pediatrics Department chief, stated, “While the brutality of this tragedy in our community saddens us, I believe the victims of Mr. James’s crimes can now live in peace and move on in their healing. Forks is a safer place.”

    ReplyDelete
  9. Word count: 100 words, on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011


    ~~~~~~~~~

    Bright, shining lipstick?
    Check.

    Red cocktail dress?
    Check.

    Enormous kitchen knife?
    Check.

    Huge-ass smile?
    Check.

    Feeling of complete control?
    Check.

    I mirror myself in the shining knife, and I try to get into the mood. To enter the role of ruthless killer that I will need tonight.

    Yes. Because this? This is do or die time. I am channeling my power player and every single vein in my body is pumping with adrenaline.

    This is Madeleine 2.0—winner. The one who has almost nothing in common with version 1.0.

    Gordon Ramsey, fuck with me tonight and I’ll cut a bitch.

    ReplyDelete
  10. @Shneezles
    196 Words



    I’ve been here six years, yet the stench of piss, sweat and smoke still burn and push bile a little higher. My back is stiff from this excuse of a bed, my heart still numb.

    The dull thud I hear in the silence is the only reminder that I’m alive. Food has no taste, conversation no meaning.

    All I see is the grey of this cell.

    All I hear is the haunting echo of my girl’s scream.

    -----

    That woman ripped away everything I loved.

    They say punishment is justice for the unjust, and that is precisely what I dealt. There was no jury, no judge, no lawyer or courts. There was simply justice. An eye for an eye. A beautiful life for her miserable existence.

    She did not deserve to see another day while my girl wouldn’t live to see another sunset by my side, wear the ring I picked out, feel our child grow inside her.

    I watched the life leave her dull eyes. I watched her body fall to the ground. I watched her bleed. A darker red, staining her dress.

    I have no regrets. A crime was committed and punishment was served.

    ReplyDelete
  11. @lellabeth
    199 words

    Their cries are the only punctuation to the run-on sentences that cycle endlessly through my brain.

    They all fight at first, weak limbs scratching and kicking, cursing like the strong men they believe themselves to be, but then they succumb. They see that I will not give an inch, that I am nothing more than a wall, and then they accept their fate.

    My favorite thing is their eyes. Often they squint them closed after the first slash against their skin, but some keep them wide, focused on mine, searching for some heart within the monster. Except their eyes are a gift they don’t realize they’re giving, the sight of their irises shining like jewels against the murky-ink of their pupil burning fire through my veins.

    Life doesn’t fade - there is no spark that goes out. Instead there are heaving breaths, gurgly coughs and inhuman noises.

    I am never more alive than in the moment they die.

    I cannot kill the one who killed all that made me alive - there is no tactic to murder a ghost, no strategy to hunt smoke.

    Instead I settle for men with hearts just as black as his.

    And I wait.

    ReplyDelete
  12. @bkhchica
    199 words

    Regaining consciousness, he blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the bright lights. Slowly, he became aware of two very important things. First, his clothes were missing; second, he was tied to a chair- to say nothing of the throbbing at the base of his skull.

    A maniacal laugh jerked his attention to the corner- the only one with a red exit sign gleaming in it.

    He struggled to free himself. He knew that laugh and without a doubt, the owner’s mind was definitely lacking sanity.

    She’d stalked him for months, but he’d never thought she’d get the better of him.

    “What do you want from me?”

    One long, booted leg entered the light, followed by a voluptuous chest and stringy blonde hair. Her laugh sounded again, bouncing off the walls, making him cringe.

    “What do I want?....I want you, Detective.” Circling around his chair, she trailed a finger lightly across his shoulder blades. “Now you’re going to answer my question…” Pulling a giant knife from her boot, she swiped at the makeup under her eye before turning her gaze back to him. Stepping closer to him, she trailed the knife up his thigh, “How do you want to die?”

    ReplyDelete
  13. Because it happened twice, which is rare.
    @bebeginja
    Word Count: 200

    She fucking kills me.

    No, really. She kills me.

    The world is sideways. Cold kitchen tile presses into the side of my face. I only know because I see it out of the corner of my eye. There’s blood everywhere.

    I strain my eyeballs trying to see the rest of my body. I can’t feel a thing.

    My right arm protrudes from my shoulder at an unnatural angle in front of me. I don’t know where my left arm is.

    I’m in boxers and socks.

    Could She not have spared me the dignity to cover my body?

    I think it’s odd that I’m thinking about dignity.

    She’s over there, sitting at the table, humming some unrecognizable tune, admiring her reflection in the knife She just used to flay me. Sneaky bitch got me while I was making the coffee. Coffee!

    I blink twice, trying to get her attention.

    Doesn’t work.

    I try to push sound from my throat, but it’s only a muffled moan.

    I blink again and I’m awake, in bed. Bella’s warm body is draped over mine.

    This is getting ridiculous.

    She’ll kill me again tonight.

    Who is She, and what did I do to deserve her punishment?

    ReplyDelete
  14. @bkhchica
    159 Words


    In the blink of an eye life changes
    Sanity goes from normal to fiery rage.

    I saw them… there together…

    It slashed my heart and made it bleed
    Did he not know I’d find out about his evil deed?

    His eyes widened and sparkled with love
    Twisting the knife deeper with an unexpected shove

    I’d always loved with passionate fire
    Lust burning hot with desire

    The raging passion changed to anger
    The monster he’d created becoming a danger
    To him, to her… to the life they’d made together

    Waiting in the shadows for them to emerge
    Breath heavy, heart hard and ready to lurch

    Twisty darkness unfurled inside
    Nothing of my former self left to hide

    Jumping from my hiding place
    I planned the perfect coup de grace

    My blade buried deep in his chest
    Followed by hers- where I left it to rest.

    The dark and twisty inside my head
    lead me to my final fate…
    Simply Dead...

    ReplyDelete
  15. Pinkcookie (PM me at fanfiction.net/Pinkcookie)
    200 words

    Stepping through the heavy orange jacquard drapes, I stopped to admire my figure in the corseted evening gown, its diamond straps sparkling in the mirror. Turning this way and that, I smile broadly because I look so much better in the dress than her dried-up, disgusting old body ever had. I notice that the diamonds in her tennis bracelet are the same square cut as the ones on the straps of the dress. Nice! I held up the kitchen knife in my hand to closely check my make-up--flawless. Her very expensive perfume completed the ensemble.

    “Is there something in your eye?” “You know, if you want to get well you really have to pay attention during our sessions.”

    Jerking to the present, I look down at my rough pants and shirt and remember where I am. This asshole thinks I’m insane; but anyone would have done what I did.

    “Girl! The eggs are cold and the juice glass is sticky!" “Girl! It’s so dusty in here!” “Girl! My sheets are not tucked in right!” “Girl! There are spots on the shower door!” “Girl! My towels are scratchy!” “Girl, girl, girl!”

    I finally had to shut step-Mummy up…anyone would have.


    ReplyDelete
  16. @magtwi78
    199 words




    I check my reflection; it’s distorted by the stainless steel of the blade. Satisfied with my appearance, I pick up the knife and the platter, and carry both into the large, perfect dining room. He doesn’t even look up from his newspaper.

    “Happy birthday, darling,” I say, setting the platter in front of him. Behind his newspaper, he grunts. “Would you like me to cut you…” oh, how I’d love to leave that sentence there “…a piece? He peers over the top of his newspaper. I smile at him, a perfect, crimson pout. “Vanilla. Your favourite.”

    I slice through the buttercream, and he snatches it greedily. He shoves it into his mouth, crumbs falling. Such a pig.

    He feels my gaze. “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “I won’t leave a mark.” He never did. Appearances are important. It’s why the bruises were always below my necklines; above my hemlines.

    His eyes grow wide, and I chuckle—he’s figured it out. He stares at the knife in my hand and coughs. “Are you going to stab me?”

    “Oh no, sweetie.” He slumps forward onto the table, eyes wide and unblinking. I smile sweetly. “The arsenic has already done the job.”

    ReplyDelete
  17. Pinkcookie (PM me at fanfiction.net/Pinkcookie
    200 words

    I smiled into the knife’s shiny reflection. Perfect ruby lips. I corrected a slight smudge on my black cat’s eye makeup. My false eyelashes fluttered seductively. I lazily ran my hand through my dark hair – perfection.

    Reflecting on the last hour I think about what he said to me. “Your eyes are so luminous, your lips are so soft, and those perky tits are driving me insane!” He licked my lips and I coyly opened my mouth for a scorching hot French kiss. He moaned and said, “I love your sexy deep voice and long legs –and your ass – it’s spectacular!” He grabbed my derrière with both big man paws. I purred and ran my long red nails down the front of his shirt to his crotch. “Oh yeah, baby!” he groaned.

    Letting my dress fall, he stepped back to admire me.

    Smirking, he took in my corset, matching silk panties, garters and sheer stockings. Suddenly he shrieked, “What the fuck!”

    Snapping out of my reverie, I tucked my cock between my legs and pulled my dress over my head. Admiring the diamond straps in the mirror, I shook my head. I just hated it when they acted like asses.

    ReplyDelete
  18. @ChocoMG2112
    Word count: 200

    From the limb of this ancient tree, I silently watched the couple. How could she deign to be with this… creature?

    They foolishly thought themselves hidden from prying eyes, but not from me. I watched, appalled as Deyanira allowed him to pull her close and kiss her deeply.

    Why had she not killed him?

    Then, I heard her words, her thoughts. She actually loved him!

    I cringed as he pressed his lips against hers, kissing deeply. I felt the waves of their rising arousal. She should end him, now.

    I felt the rising flames in my own body as I wanted to watch his muscles melt under my fire, his bones snap and turn to diamond ash. Now, this was how to achieve blissful release.

    My Mother and Goddess commanded me and so I shall obey. My sister betrayed her Goddess with this man’s love. I pondered as I drew my claw-like nails against the bark, burning a beautiful flame design leaving my mark. The corners of my mouth curved in an evil smile, as I knew exactly how to use the jeweled dagger Mother gave me to deliver Her justice. I shall bring my beloved sister pain and blood.

    ReplyDelete
  19. moonlit__girl
    wordcount 168

    mealticket

    when i was three years old
    they stuffed me into sequins and feather,
    stabbed a tiara into my hair,
    made my cheeks and lips pinker,
    taught me how to walk in high heels
    taught me how to smile and wave and
    simper like a good little girl.

    when i was eleven
    they told me to listen to the photographer
    do what he said
    make love to the camera
    pout your lips
    blow a kiss
    no, a sexy kiss
    now wink
    lick your lips
    no, slower
    yes.

    when i was sixteen
    they gave me rice cakes
    and diet coke
    and told me i was
    not hungry
    told me to
    suck in my stomach and
    arch my back and stop
    being so fidgety.

    when i was seventeen
    i finally figured out
    how to make it stop
    how to make them stop
    how to hurt them back
    i carved a note into my arm
    (goodbye mom, goodbye dad)
    and
    slit my wrists.

    (sorry i didn’t want to be
    america’s next top model)

    ReplyDelete
  20. @femme_mal
    200 words
    __________

    She appeared unaware of his presence; he’d finally snuck up on her.

    He stalked up behind her, pressing a sudden kiss to her bare shoulder.

    No sign of surprise betrayed her; the knife continued rhythmically through the carrot before her.

    “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to disturb a woman wielding a knife?”

    “Hmph. What’s for dinner?”

    Snick-snick-snick continued the blade along the maple board.

    “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to ask a woman that question upon arrival?”

    “Hmm. Fine. Must be that time of the month.”

    As if the earth had suddenly shifted and risen up to meet his head, he found himself flat on his back. Snick-snick went the knives which pierced the floor on either side of his head, just missing his ears.

    “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to say that to a woman?”

    Sweat broke out on his lip as she peered into the mirror-finish of the butcher’s knife, checking the arch of her brow as she waited.

    “I’m sorry, dear. Let me start over, please? Did you have a nice day? And can I help you with dinner?”

    “That’s better. Please set the table.”

    Shouldn’t have married a knife-thrower, he thought once again.

    ReplyDelete
  21. I couldn’t believe how well the play was going tonight! As a high school senior, I was going to miss my favorite part of school: Drama Club. My favorite roles have been the strong female leads. Tonight’s mass murder scene was coming up, so I used the handy prop in my hand as a mirror. The chef knife was very realistic-looking, so I couldn’t wait to see the crowd’s reaction!

    “Carrie, you’ve got a little–“

    “Oh, thanks, Mischa,” I said in my high-pitched, squeaky voice.

    She was a fake friend, and I had grown quite tired of her. She annoyed me, so I did my best to annoy her in kind. She and her little group of stuck up bitches had made my life hell for nearly four years.

    With one last look to admire my red lips, I read aloud the quote by Saint Augustine to help myself get into character: “Punishment is justice for the unjust.”

    Perfect inspiration. With a wicked smile, I stepped onto the stage.

    @LouiseClark75
    170 words

    ReplyDelete