Hey all! This is the second part of my flash fiction series. We're doing another 3-story part today, and I hope you all enjoy! In, out, in, out, in out in out in out in– she gasped, slamming the door shut behind her. Pressed her back to it. Slid to the floor. In, out, in, … Continue reading Flash Fiction Trio Part 2
Hey all! Something a little different today; I've got a bit of a buildup of flash fiction pieces right now, and so my next few posts will probably be duos or trios of those pieces. Hope you guys enjoy! The chirp chirp chirp of the crickets and the soft screams of cicadas nearly drowned out … Continue reading Flash Fiction Trio
Jack MacGuffin’s body wasn’t found until the morning after the snowstorm.
Caleb Genet, the newest member of the Queen’s court, glanced nervously around the royal banquet hall as silent servers swept between the kitchens and the table, carrying enough food to feed the entire queendom for a month and setting it out for the court’s perusal. The Queen hadn’t said a word, yet, and so neither had a single member of the court. Instead, they sat in silence, waiting for orders.
The house on Brookside Lane was two stories tall. Calvin didn't believe the stories about it, of course, but he didn't think it was a particularly good idea to put them to the test.
Beatrice hummed softly as she stoked the fire until it crackled happily, warming her from head to toe. Her body was moving without any real input from her mind; it was late, and Howard should have been home from work hours ago, but then again, it had been months since he had actually been home from work on time, and loathe as she was to admit it, Beatrice found that she was rather used to it at this point.
There are witches in Essex.
And I am not one of them.
The path continues through deep and impenetrable shadows for what feels like hours. Every now and again, I hear movement from either side of me, but when I look over, I can’t see anything. Each time I look, I feel the knot in my head tighten, as though I were using shadows.
I wake up the next evening at six with a knot in my chest to match the one in my head. I don’t want to face the Devotees again. Not after what happened in Veracruz. Not after the explosions, the blood, the ripples of darkness reaching out into every corner of the city, killing everything and everyone they came into contact with… I don’t want to deal with it. I can’t. Not yet.
We land at the Philadelphia Airport a little more than three hours later, sore from the TSA’s poking and prodding. I swear, the mortals’ stupid security systems are even more obnoxious than the entire damn Dynasty. But whatever makes them feel safer, I guess. The drive to our new, temporary home base is only about a half an hour. Briella is entirely silent the whole way. All I can hear is the rustling of her scarf brushing against her shirt. I lean as far away from her as I can without seeming rude, so that I end up essentially sitting on Montero’s lap with his arm wrapped around my shoulders.