Some Flash Fiction I Wrote
Not sure if this is something we're allowed to do here, but I thought I'd share this flash fiction story I wrote with you guys. This is one of the stories that will be offered in the monthly package over at our website -- the one I mentioned in my previous blog post.
Keep in mind that this story is categorized as "horror", and as such it may be a bit offensive to some who frequent this site. If horror is offensive or too frightening for you, I won't judge you if you decide not to read this.
With that in mind, here it is:
I.
I sleep during the day now. He won’t catch me that way.
I don’t exactly know how or why I know this. Maybe it’s some bizarre instinct we humans have deep down, some intrinsic knowledge that this thing hates the clarity and purity of the sun. I guess it makes sense - if we saw it coming it would be out of work.
I didn’t always believe in these things. I used to be like everyone else, just living my life, getting involved with all the petty nonsense, focusing on climbing higher in hopes the bottom would be too far below to reach when I finally fell down.
In a sick, twisted way, I’m glad it saw me that night - at least my fall wouldn’t be as painful. It would be like ripping off a bandaid.
Yup, things get real simple when surviving turns into an Olympic sport. And things get even simpler when you can see the finish line reflected in a pulsating, sickly-white hide.
II.
He arrives at the same time every night and perches in the same place. I don’t really know if it has a gender, but his last guest’s voice comes out of its snout, pooling like ravenous drool in my ears. I gave up searching for my roommate long before this - his position has been filled, and I am not lacking for company.
He tells me about his day at the office, about how much of a nag his girlfriend is. The talk is one-sided, mostly, but I always laugh on cue, and sometimes even more than that. It’s funny, really, when you think about it. This thing visits with me every single night, as though we were friends. It even shows concern like a friend.
Maybe it IS my friend.
III.
I grow weary of the visits now. His talk is trying and dull, and I know this is not an accident.
I find myself falling asleep earlier and earlier in the day. I think I drift off shortly after sunrise. I try to stay awake, but my new friend’s words are as comforting as they are dangerous. Even so, nothing bad happens. Try as I might to stay alert, I wake up one morning to see the sun barely teetering on the edge of the horizon.
Then one evening, when I wake up, the sun is gone. The covers are already over my head, but this trick is below him, and I know it. I feel its metal lips press against my eyes, each in turn, drool like salty tears dripping slowly down my face. It knows its time draws near.
IV.
It’s time to get a good night’s sleep.
I’m sorry.
I’ll see you soon.
Recent Comments
2
Hmm.
When I read "Flash fisction" I was expecting a story about either Barry Allen or Wally West ha ha.