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Flashfiction #35: Horror

Discussion in 'Reader's Corner' started by afgpride, Jun 6, 2018.

  1. afgpride Global Moderator

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    1. Your work must be within constraints of the theme.
    2. Of course, all themes can be interpreted in any number of ways.
    3. 500 words maximum per entry, or else the entry will be disqualified.
    4. Only post one entry per theme. The highest rated entry will choose the next theme.
    5. You may not rate/review your own work.
    6. Add a rating out of ten at the end of your "review".
    7. Be constructive/honest when criticizing a piece. No mindless flaming.
    8. You do not have to enter a flashfic to rate.
    9. If you enter and do not rate & review the other entries, your flashfic is disqualified from points.

    Starts 06/06, Wednesday, ends 23/06, Saturday. Reviews from 24/06 to 26/06 Tuesday.
    Last edited: Jun 16, 2018
  2. shit shit is the ne plus ultra

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    Spoiler: 499
    Seath stepped forward toward the monster. He dared not chance a glance behind him to see if his partner was watching, because that wasn’t the plan. The plan was short yet meticulous, and every slight movement, even breath, must strictly follow it. He held his head high, his feet were steady, his body was rock solid, and inside his chest his heart thundered like a frenzied animal in a cage, thrashing itself against the bars and screaming in terror.

    The monster was taller and wider than any building he’d seen, a sprawling black mass of lumpy flesh that secreted slime across the ranch it had just destroyed. Writhing tentacles that stretched a dozen meters killed whatever grass it touched, and the slime that coated the soil seemed to suffocate it to barren death. At the center was a cackling torso of a plump woman, her mouth and eyes gaping open in screeching laughs.

    The monster was a Lamia spawn. The woman was Quinlee, Seath’s wife.

    “Quin!” he called out, standing on a pile of rubble so he could be seen over her sprawling mass. “I’ve come for you, dear. Let’s head home now.”

    A mad shrieking laugh was followed by a tentacle whipping at him like lightning, slapping him to the ground and coiling around his neck in fluid motion. Seath clawed at the acidic flesh in a panic, for being strangled instantly was not the culmination of his plan.

    He was dragged slowly across the poison slime and rocks and then up close to Quinlee’s form, her neck still adorned with the tattered rags of her modest blue dress, her favorite for Sundays. Seath was heartbroken to see the part at her waist where she melded into the monster was a skinless wound with bubbling pus.

    She babbled noises and laughs like a baby at him, stupidly drooling.

    “I came to get you,” he managed to say, pulling enough slack in the grip to get the words out.

    She frowned, faint realization seeming to taste sour. Looking irritated, she grabbed a sharp rock in another tentacle and thrust it forward. The blow tore into Seath’s flesh at his stomach, and his insides started to pour out.

    His face turned pale, his eyes gone wide, his limbs jerked, and his voice turned to guttural clicks. Then after a few seconds, his lips curled to a smile.

    The contents of his stomach hit the black flesh of the Lamia spawn, burning it away instantly in a puff of clear steam. It kept burning like a wildfire, and as the mountain of monster writhed and spasmed it kept burning with an unstoppable force.

    Holy water. Seath had drank enough to drown a man, directed by a traveling monster hunter, working on behalf of the kingdom. He reckoned the hunter was watching him now from afar.

    Seath crawled forward to the torso of Quinlee in her death spasms, leaking his guts along the way. He held her close as they both died.