Archive for the #ThursThreads Category

#ThursThread Honorable Mention

Posted in #ThursThreads, awards, flash fiction with tags on December 30, 2011 by Nellie

I had gotten picked for a #ThursThread Honorable Mention. It takes place from 7am Pacific to 7pm Pacific (Or 10 to 10 to us East Coasters).

“Let me go, bastard!” The woman struggled against the two men that held her in place, putting hands on her shoulder and forcing her to sit in the chair.

The man sat across the desk from her. He glanced at her with distaste before pulling out a long silvered dagger, a ruby in the pommel.

“It’s nothing personal, my dear. This is something that has to be done. It had been so for centuries, but it had not always been so.” He nodded his head. Grey eyes leveled on the struggling woman. “You should be happy that you were selected. It is an honor to be the Host. There are usually other young women who beg to be chosen.” He nodded to the men. “Put her across the table.”

“Noooo, no. Stop. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re going to curse us all.” She wiggled and struggled as they yanked her to a long stone table sitting against the window. The full moon streamed in through the open window, coating it in blue sheen.

They secured her in the shackles and the man picked up the dagger, pointing it towards the outside. The ruby caught in the light started a slow burn in its depths. “Father, bless us.” He bowed his head.

She arched up against the chains, watching as he picked up the dagger and drove it down into her breast. White flame burst out from her chest and she gave a scream that degenerated into a howl.

Come join us next week over at The Weird, the Wild & the Wicked!



Posted in #ThursThreads, flash fiction with tags on December 22, 2011 by Nellie

Come on over and playing on Siobhan’s #ThursThreads flash challenge.

100 to 250 words.
The sentence to include is: “Then the damned will envy my conversion.”

Come on over here. You have until 7pm Pacific time.

Bloody lips grinned as Falial pulled himself up on the rock. His hand slipped once , bloody dripping onto the rocks and making his grip slippery. He got his feet underneath and straightened up, not wincing as the long cut in his thigh stretched the beginning of a scab tore loose, fresh blood running down his leg.

Leathery wings stretched behind them, the end section of the right one tilting at an odd angle.

They didn’t think he would get out. They didn’t think that he would survive. His body was bruised, mangled and torn. But he made it.

The screams funneled up and he looked down at the writing bodies, hands reaching up for assistance.

They were all fools. “Then the damned will envy my conversion.” Matted blonde hair fell down his back as he laughed, head tilted back, the sound echoing up to the bright blue sky.