The drink

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Connor motioned towards the door. “Mike, you look like you can use a drink,” he said.

“Uh huh,” said Mike. His eyes focused on the raptor.
“But first,” Conner waved his hand in front of Mike. “Lets, clean you up.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“No worries. Come on, there’s a thirty year old bourbon with your name on it.”
Mike followed Connor through the door. “Hey man, did you redecorate since yesterday?”
Connor grinned, “Nope.”
A voice came from behind Mike, “You picked the wrong house.”
Mike spun around. His brows furrowed,”Three years, I’ve waited for this moment.”

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Raptor

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 Photo Copyright: Douglas M. Macllory

Mike scratched his head. “Is that a metal raptor? Since when, are you into modern art?”

“Would you believe it’s my security guard,” said Connor.

“How does a sculpture guard anything?” said Mike

Connor snapped his fingers. “Raptor, security test.”

In a blink of an eye, legs emerged from the statue complete with sharp claws. Skin covered with green scales replaced the metal. One yellow eye stared at Mike. As the raptor moved closer on its hind legs, Mike lost his bladder.

“Raptor, end test.” He glanced at Mike. “Do you believe, I’m a wizard now?” said Connor.

Mike remained silent.

Water

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 Photo Copyright: Santoshwrite

Sabo said, “Today, I would like four volunteers to perform a difficult spell.”

No one dared to accept.

“If you succeed, you’ll receive a passing grade for my class. If you fail, well, try not to fail.”

Everyone stared at their desks in silence.

With a snap of his fingers, Sabo and four boys disappeared.

A moment later, the woods surrounded them.

One of the boys asked, “What are we doing here?”

“Today you will turn into a drop of water and land on this leaf,” said Sabo.

Unable to reform, the boys remained water throughout the weekend as punishment.

Flash Fiction – Who am I?

fabricating fiction

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Who am I?

I could be your neighbour, your friend, a member of your family.

I walk amongst you. I dress like you, I talk like you, unidentifiable, nondescript.

We may eat at the same restaurants, go to the same theatres, watch the same films.

We could have lots in common.

But, did I mention I’m a master of revenge, adept at betrayal and if it’s torture, well, the bloodthirstier the better.

Murder? Why of course, come closer, I have a tale or two to tell.

I am a teacher of history, and oh, how I love it.

Written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story inspired by a photo prompt. Read the other entires here.

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La Ramblas

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Emily sipped her café con leche, as she watched the crowds pass by La Ramblas.
Nathan asked, “Where would you like to go next?”
“I want to drink from the La Rambla fountain and see the Miro circle,” said Emily.
“Con permiso,” said the waitress, as she placed a bowl of Natilla in front of each diner.
“After three years of saving, I’m up for anything,” said Nathan.
They strolled past the artists and street vendors. A man pulled Emily’s purse from her shoulder, as he ran past.
Nathan broke into a run after the thief. He yelled, “Basta, Basta!”

The experiment

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Photo Copyright: Douglas M Macllory

There was a knock on the door. Marissa peered two men though the peephole.

“Can I help you,” Marissa said to the closed door.

“Marissa Romanello, were from Synergy,” bellowed one of the men.

The door opened a crack. “I’ve been selected,” said Marissa.

“If you are still interested, we need to leave in ten minutes,” said the man in the suit.

They rode the elevator in silence. As she stepped into the van something sharp pierced her hamstring.

She awoke in domed structure with four other women and one man.

“Welcome to six months of isolation,” said the man.

Pancakes

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Photo copyright: Roger Bultot

Keyley glanced up at her mother. “Mommy, what”s the blue light on the stove.”
“It’s a flame. Never touch it. You’ll get hurt,” said Jamie.
“Can I help,” said Keyley.
“No, because the pancakes are ready,” said Jamie.
“Yummy.”
Jamie’s cell buzzed on the counter. “Would you go wake Ethan and Daddy?”
With a mischievous grin Keyley said, “O.K.”
Throughout breakfast, Jamie spoke with her boss. At its conclusion, she ignited the wick on a scented candle to remove the horrible smell, which filled the kitchen. As she removed the griddle, she realized her mistake too late.

The chase

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Photo copyright: Sandra Crook

“Sir, I cranked the a/c for you,” said the valet. 

“Thanks, but I thought hunting wasn’t allowed?” said David.

 “It’s strictly forbidden on the plantation,” said the valet.

 Without a word, David sprinted across the parking lot towards a bald man in full camouflage. When their eyes

 met, a single glimpse of recognition betrayed Brandi’s killer. David chased the coward through the tree line into 

an overgrown field, but a single misstep sealed the bald man’s fate. An exposed tree root and gravity did the rest, 

as the man’s neck collied with the tree stump.

The call

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Photo copyright: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

With a double bourbon on the rocks, his medicine of choice, David stared at the maze in the distance. His reverie cut short by the ring of his phone.

“David,” he said.

“Thanks for making my job so easy,” said the caller.

“I will find you. Enjoy what little time you have left,” said David.

“Until then, have another bourbon, ” said the caller.

David scanned the maze, tables, and picnic area. Three men were using their phones.

“It won’t be that easy. Nice try…” The line went dead.

David threw the drink at the column. I’ll, bury him alive!

Maze garden

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“David, I need a break, “ said Brandi.

“Sorry, if trying to keep you alive is boring you,” said David.

“It’s not, but there’s a plantation in Suwannee, Georgia. I’d like to visit.”

“Sounds nice, if you’re into old building and boredom.”

She ran her hand up his leg. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

“Sure, why not.”

David was bored ten minutes after arrival. While waiting for a room to be cleaned, they walked through the maze of shrubs. David noticed something small sparkle in the distance.

“That’s weird, Brandi…”

Brandi slumped forward. Brain tissue and blood soaked David.