Weird, Wild, & Wicked

#ThursThreads - Tying Tales Together - Week 263

4/20/2017

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. Today is Thursday and that means it’s time to start flashing! And now we’re in our Fifth year! This is Week 263 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? Check out the #ThursThreads #flashfiction group on Facebook and the Community on Google Plus.

Need the rules? Read on.

Here's how it works:

The prompt is a line from the previous week's winning tale.
The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
The prompt must be used as is. It can be split, but no intervening words can be inserted or tenses changed.

Rules to the Game:

This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
The story must be new writing, not a snippet from something published elsewhere with the prompt added.
Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
Post your story in the comments section of this post
Include your word count (or be excluded from judging)
Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)
The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time
The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up.

How it benefits you:

You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we're all about promotion - you know you are!)
You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, and Google Plus, etc.

Our Judge for Week 263:

Crazy cat lady and reader, Sarah Rebman.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“She’s comin’ with me.”

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!

Daniel Swensen

4/20/2017 07:58:59 am

“Sorry to interrupt,” said the man in the black hat.

The couple at the bar turned to face the stranger. In the background, bluegrass music twanged from an ancient jukebox; the sound of muted conversation mixed with the tang of stale beer.

The woman’s posture stiffened, as if she recognized the stranger. But she sat silent, caressing the rim of her rock glass.

“Whatever it is, we’re not interested,” said her date, a blond man in a tie.

“You’re about to be,” said Black Hat. “This woman’s not who you think she is.”

The man opened his mouth to say something, but she spoke first. “And who’s that?”

Black Hat turned a rheumy eye on her. “A witch who’s sold her soul to the devil. And I’ve come to collect. She’s comin’ with me.”

The other man stood, indignant. “I think you’d better apologize.”

The woman polished off her drink. “Nah, he’s right. About the first part, anyway.” She stood with a smile and touched the blond man’s cheek. “It’s been real, honey. But I’m gonna have to call it a night.”

She turned to face her hunter.

Black Hat grinned with a mouthful of broken teeth. “Shall we begin?”

The woman nodded. When she next spoke, her voice was thunder. “Everyone who doesn’t want to get killed better clear on out the back.”

The crowd scrambled as the pair faced each other. Their fists closed, and the lights in the bar flickered to darkness.

245 words / @surlymuse

Bill Engleson link

4/20/2017 08:29:27 am

Demolition

“You don’t owe them nothing, Hermione. Not a damn thing”

Hermione switches and scatters like a burning tyre, smokin’ and smellin’, is ringing her neck. She has bowed and preened in front of them for years when anyone with a dribble a sense knows that they don’t give a rat’s ass for us.

“I don’t see it that way, Horatio. Maybe…”

“Maybe, what?” I spew back at her apologist’s tongue.

“Maybe they got another place for us, another home.”

“Oh, really. Where might that be? Do your big fat eyes see a new home just sittin’ there? No. this old wreck is meetin’ its maker and we are collateral damage.”

And I’m thinkin’ make that Caterwaul Damage but no one appreciates my stupid puns anyways.

Hermione’s hairy orange jaw drops to the ground. I’m makin’ my point but it has a dram of angry venom attached.

The machine is growlin’, anxious to devour the old Community Club that has been our shelter for generations.

THEY are gathered to watch. THEY, who coulda fixed it up and made somethin’ longer lastin’. We’d pressed our ears to the beer-soaked floorboards and listened to them debate the future of our bunker. Sure, some said, “What about the mangy felines? But others said, “Yeah, too bad, ain’t it.”

Then I see one of them, old, with long grey hair. She’s been a provider for years, bringin’ us food as regular as the rain that puddles down and pools the foul swamp that is our home under the Hall.

She comes up to Hermione, scoops her up like a flower, and says “She’s comin’ with me.”

And then the others rush in, chase us down, bundle us up, say, “They’re all comin’ with us.”

And I have to begin rethinkin’ the nature of mankind.

300 transformative moments

@billmelaterplea

Kathy Griffith

4/20/2017 09:10:56 am

Evan was dreaming. Funerals would do that to you.
He felt a little chill, and he burrowed under the covers to get warm again without waking up his girlfriend and having yet another argument. He glanced over at the window to make sure it was closed--
--and saw a fine mist creeping through one of the small gaps. He froze, spellbound as the mist settled into the figure of a young man with an auburn haired glow and softly defined muscles. He stared at Evan with an enquiring look.
“Well, aren’t you going to ask?” the figure said.
Evan shook his head. Some dream.
“You’re Marcie’s ex, but we went to your funeral today, I saw you in your coffin. I have her now, buddy. It’s too late for you.”
He watched the figure shake its head.
“No, man, you’re wrong. She’s comin’ with me.” The figure held out his hand, and Evan was shocked to see Marcie rise up, smiling as their fingers intertwined.
“Bye, Evan,” she whispered.
Both figures faded off, and Evan scrubbed his hands over his face as he looked over at the sleeping figure of his wife.
“Shit.”
He felt a sudden urge to wake her up, so he reached over and pulled down the covers, but as he put his hand on her face and felt her cold skin, saw the open bottle, he knew.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, broken. “I’m so sorry I let you have too many.”

246 words/pilgrim101@comcast.net

Daelyn Morgana link

4/20/2017 10:35:03 am

Our laughter filled the alleyway short cut as we stumbled home. We cut short when someone dropped in front of us from the fire escape and I pulled Darlene behind me.

My eyes widened slightly at the figure clad in red leather, shrouded by shadow with an assassin's hood and mask limiting his face. A quiver of arrows poked out over his shoulder, bow in hand. "Red Arrow..." I whispered.

"So you do know me." His voice was deep, unnatural. Something was causing it to vibrate and shift.

"Of course... You're the city's biggest vigilante force."

Arrow took a step toward us. "And you're the city's best hacker, Jonathan. Or should I say Black Ace?"

"How did you..."

"Know who you are?" He chuckled. "You said it yourself. I make it my business to know the criminals, even the ones hiding behind screens."

Darlene let out a squeal as she was yanked away from me. I turned and tried to grab for her to find one of Arrow's partners holding her. When did he show up?

"She's comin' with me," Arrow said, causing me to look back.

My fists balled. "Let her go! She has nothing to do with my crimes!"

"No. You're right. But she's a good motivator for you."

"What?"

He flipped something to me and I caught it on instinct. "A flash drive?"

"You have till midnight tomorrow to break the encryptions on that drive, and then I'll return your girlfriend and pretend we never met."

~*~*~*~

249 secret encryptions
dae.m.darkwriter@gmail.com

Siobhan Muir

4/20/2017 10:41:56 am

“Give me back my dog.”

“Your dog?” Deli raised his eyebrows.

“That’s right, mine. And you didn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

Deli shook his head. “How is she your dog? This is Sergeant Trace, a U.S. Military War Dog. She doesn’t belong with a civilian.”

“I know exactly who she is and she’s been medically retired from the military. She’s my dog now and I’ve sworn to take care of her. Now, let go of her, because she’s comin’ with me.” The woman stood her ground. She didn’t point the shotgun at Deli, but he suspected she wasn’t far from doing so if he pushed.

Deli glanced at the dog, still staring up at him with trusting golden eyes. “Okay, Trace. At ease.”

The dog lost some of her vigilance and her tongue lolled out of her mouth in a relaxed doggy grin. Some of Deli’s tension went with hers.

“How did you get a MWD after she’d retired?”

“How about you let me have my dog back and identify yourself before I tell you anything?”

“I’m Chief Petty Officer Rubenovich, U.S. Navy.”

She nodded. “Thanks for the help with the bear. Come on, Trace. Let’s go home.”

“Let me come with you to make sure the bear doesn’t return.”

She snorted. “I’m the one with the shotgun, remember? Besides, the bear isn’t likely to come back after that display.”

“Maybe, but there are more predators than bears out here.”

She shot him a piercing look. “Oh, I know there are. Probably better than you.”

@SiobhanMuir
250 ineligible #WIP500 words

Sheilagh Lee link

4/20/2017 11:05:46 am

The party was in full steam. The bar was full but in the centre of it a woman her long dark hair streaming down her back in perfect ringlets, dressed in a red flamingo dress. She held court dancing with many men. The all smiled after they danced with her weirdly none of them seemed jealous. Each seemed to think she had chosen them. She looked at me for a moment and then quickly looked away as if my gaze burned her. She danced her smile wide, her laughter tinkling like tiny bells.
I asked the forsaken women to dance. Some of them look defiantly at the men they came with and waited for the jealousy they thought would come but it never did. For these I smiled brighter tried harder and soon they forgot who they’d come with.
As the clock turned to the witching hour, I turned to her and took her hand. Her dancing partner tried to shove me away
“She’s comin’ with me,” I said loudly.
“Not if I can help it.”
“You and whose army?” I replied.
“All of us,” her dance partners said and I smiled my teeth elongating as I took my first bite of the night.
The noise was extinguished in matter of minute as I ate my supper and she ate hers. Before we left the bar we spread the fuel and burned the place to the ground. They’d be looking for an arsonist now we were safe and full.
249 words
@SweetSheil

Silver James link

4/20/2017 12:14:22 pm

I heard the untuned pipes of a Harley. There’s not another sound like it. Smoke. My career was in tatters, thanks to his actions. My coworkers in Arson no longer trusted me. Everything I’d worked for was gone in a puff of smoke. No freaking pun intended.

I’d fallen for him, believed his pretty words, surrendered my body to his sexy hands that set me on fire. He couldn’t do more to hurt me. He’d already incinerated my heart.

The black motorcycle rolled to a stop and he sat there, watching. My heart lurched—hard since it was a lump of charcoal lodged in my chest.

Firefighters strolled through the open bay door, faces unforgiving as they formed a line behind me.

“Problem, Sergeant Daniels?”

“No.” I didn’t want backup for this, or eavesdroppers so I trudged over to the bike. “Go away, Smoke.”

“Not leavin’ without you, babe.”

My treacherous heart thudded. “Doesn’t work that way.”

“Does in my world.”

His world—outlaw bikers, violence. We didn’t fit. He was an arsonist and the irony of that made my stomach cramp. It couldn’t be that simple.

“Yeah, babe, it is that simple.”

How did he read my mind like that? I was a trained investigator. I didn’t show my emotions.

Smoke stared down the guys at my back. “She’s comin’ with me.” He sounded so sure. His eyes flicked to me. “Get on the bike, babe.”

I got on the bike. Maybe it was that simple. God help me.
****
250 #TeamSmoke WIP words
@SilverJames_

Cate Derham link

4/20/2017 12:40:34 pm

"She's comin' with me," I heard Jake say from where I lay sprawled out in the corner of the dark deserted bar.

"My hero," I murmured, smirking. My head was pounding like a hard rain on the canvas outside in the alleyway. I was drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Hell she is." Curt said, a bit too confidently for my liking. "I'm claiming the bounty on her."

"You couldn't handle her," Jake said.

Damn. He knows what I am, I thought.

"Stay outa my way, Jake." The bounty hunter pulled out his knife. Jake knocked a table over and drew his Glock.

"Fuck." Curt fell to the floor.

"You coulda let me use a spell you know."

"This is a bit more final, Shiloh."

"How long have you known I'm a witch, Jake?"

He moved closer to me and touched the nape of my neck.

"Since the first time I made love to you," he said.

"Tell me the truth, Jake."

"You won't like it, Shy."

"You're turning me over to the federal marshals?"

"Is that really what you think of me, Shiloh?"

I didn't know what to think. I wasn't big on trust, that's for sure. But Jake was different. At least I hoped he was because I was in love with him.

Cate Derham
@cate_derham
213 Words

Mark Morris

4/20/2017 01:37:53 pm

“Hello, Lover.” Cassie sounded sleepy. Even she had her limitations, it seemed.

“Don’t fret yourself, Poppet,” Jack murmured, rolling out of the bed. “I gotta take a break. I’ll be back in five, I promise.” He arched his back and moaned, enjoying the euphoria that lingered between their encounters. He really had to go eat something. He’d been at this for hours and he needed something fast – a sandwich at the very least. He clapped his hands and the scene faded, the boudoir dissolving away to become a more contemporary, mundane reality.

Hatton was there, ready for him, the burst-open doorway showing he’d not bothered to find a key.

“Ya finished, ya sleazeball?” He grinned gleefully, waiting for Jack to notice the trail of devastation that had followed him, the virtual reality rig the only item of value he’d left unbroken. The bailiff’s employers weren’t fussy how he got their message across, they only wanted the cash Jack owed them. Hatton could smash anything he liked.

“Oh crap.” Jack rolled out of his bed, hitting the floor and then diving underneath it out of sight.

“You’re wasting your time, perv.” Hatton brandished a handful of credit shims, fanning himself coquettishly. “We’ve been there. Emptied the whole lock-box. The only thing left is the VR.” He nodded to his colleague, a slow-moving block of a man who pulled Jack to his feet again, plucking the stim-set off his head. “You can say goodbye to your girlfriend. She’s comin’ with me!”

249 shuddering moments of euphoria

twothirdsrasta@gmail.com

Aightball link

4/20/2017 03:14:38 pm

I love visiting the Human Society but at the same time, it makes me so sad. I wish I could give them all a forever home. Some of them look so sad and I always wonder how the older ones end up at the shelter. My husband holds my hand as we wait in the visiting room. He's looking for two cats that will make good emotional support animals. He's been out of alcohol rehab for two weeks and his doctor thinks the cats will benefit him. So far, we've visited four cats with no success.

The volunteer sets two tiny, black and white kittens down and they scamper toward Jimmy. He holds out treats, which both kittens scarf down. One snuggles into his arms and he smiles. I snap a picture.

"Boy or girl?" I ask.

He checks. "Girl. She's comin' with me for sure," he says. He puts her down but she stays near. He gets another treat and soon, the boy is snuggled in his arms as well. "And him. I think these are the ones."

I call for the volunteer and she returns. "Success?"

"Yes. We'll take both."

"Excellent. They're five weeks old, so it will be a week or two until they're ready." She picks them up and I melt when the girl mews and reaches for Jimmy. "Soon, little one, soon."

Jimmy smiles until they're gone, then sighs. It's going to be a long wait until those two get to come home.

@Aightball
248 words

Tina Glasneck link

4/20/2017 04:31:23 pm

I was considered the mad empress; the shrieking empress or even the depressed one by the servants. But it didn’t matter. I heard their hushed tones, and knew they tip-toed around me only to later laugh behind my back. I’d grown used to it – my prison, my royal chamber.
But today was different, I knew, even before my beloved rushed into the room, appearing like the Viking I knew him to be.
Tears welled, and crisscrossed down my face.
“Come, my love,” Erich urged.
I’d fallen for that trick so often – this too could only be a mirage, another game for my jailer to play on me.
Without much pomp and circumstance, the French doors swung open, and in walked the emperor, in his aristocratic glory; his clothes fetching and ornate, and in his eyes only cunningness rested. Behind him and on his heel, his fae guards, who resembled human body builders, followed.
“What do we have here?” He quirked his terse smile, his brow crinkled despite the lack of concern that rested in his soul. He never asked a question he didn’t know the answer to even if his words may have said something completely different.
“You’ve taken what is mine,” Erich said. His chest rose, and I could feel the zing of magic that rested in the air; it was like the tingling before lightning struck with a loud boom. “She’s comin’ with me,” he announced, pointed his sword outwards, and waved him over.

246 words
@TinaGlasneck

Isabel Buell

4/20/2017 07:03:31 pm

“Pray to your god,” he whispered, his lover-like breath a hot caress along the curve of my ear.

I withheld my whimper as his knuckle traced the column of my neck in slow, gentle strokes. With that simple act, I surrendered my will. I laid my life in his hands.

Saren advanced a step, his weapon drawn and poised. He knew nothing of Liam, of the death he asked for, aware or no, through that action alone.

“She’s comin’ with me,” he said. “Now.”

A deep, resounding growl filled the silence between us, the tip of Liam’s nose brushing the underside of my jaw. I could feel his gaze slide to Saren.

He gave a low chuckle, a wolf’s grin. “Mm, I’m afraid not. Prior affairs, you see.”

Shuddering, I leaned into his chest, praying the predator I had allied myself would stay true to his word. Part of me knew he would never hurt me, not without destroying himself, yet part of him would always remain untamed, feral. There was no denying the inborn nature that crawled beneath his skin.

A muscle feathered in Saren’s cheek, drawing his lips into a subtle snarl.

Liam drew me flush against him.

I saw his finger squeeze the trigger before I heard the shot and shut my eyes tight. Yet there was nothing. No pain.

Liam’s chortle answered, the spent bullet falling from his fingers, mere inches before my chest. “This is shaping up to be a lovely evening,” he purred.

~*~

249 little wordies
i.r.buell.writer@gmail.com

Siren X Star link

4/20/2017 07:29:40 pm

Sabine heard the heavy footsteps of three men walk through the door of the tiny, gritty, Amsterdam bar, its few human patrons had been drunk and passed out for hours. She glared at Jonathan beside her and back at her drink in front of her. She sensed one man directly behind her and the other two flanked him on each side.

Jonathan stood up, facing them. "Can I help you?"

"She's comin' with me." Augustus sternly boomed.

With lightening speed, Sabine busted the wooden napkin holder in front of her into pieces, scooping up the pointed wooden dowels that held the top piece to the base. With such force, she launched one into the heart of the guy on her left, as she spun around and nailed the guy in the heart on her right. Both fell immediately to the floor, their bodies becoming stiff. It left her facing Augustus directly in front of her.

"Draven would like a word." He spoke, smirking.

"You can tell him I'm not interested." Sabine replied.

"You can tell him, yourself."

Sabine growled as plunged another dowel deep into Augustus.

Draven - her maker, lover, and husband - entered and walked towards her with fury, as he stepped over the bodies of his former associates.

"You leave me and this is where I find you...in the company of humans and a newly bitten dog!" He yelled, eyeing Jonathan.

Faster and much stronger than she was, Draven had her on her knees with the last dowel pointed at her heart.

#249 words
@sirenstar

Barbe Crabtree

4/20/2017 07:58:50 pm

“I’ll bet you can see
She’s comin’ with me.
She ain’t goin’ with you
‘Cuz you’re the fool!”

The words rolled around in his mind, and gradually their cadence suggested a tune. He reached for his guitar and started picking out a melody. One riff wasn’t sounding right, so he closed his eyes and tried to imagine where the lyric and the tune wanted to go. His fingers just seemed to know where to place themselves and a catchy melody evolved.

He had learned over the years that most songs almost wrote themselves if he would just let them. He had struggled at first, trying to force “the hook” in every song; that line that kept the audience infected by the infamous “ear worm”. He leaned back, smiling, remembering having cursed the originator of the ‘Chicken Dance’ and ‘The Macarena”. Total ear worms.

With a nostalgic mental jerk, he came back to the present. Now he had to come up with a couple of verses, words that would tell the story that was explained by the chorus. Isn’t that just like life, he thought, our core is the “core-us”, and the story just keeps on happening. This song is my story, as was every other song he had written. Listen to the words, kids, listen to the words. Catchy phrases, clever couplings, sometimes melodic, sometimes melancholy, sometimes the fool.

227 Words
barbara.crabtree@shaw.ca

4/20/2017 08:03:03 pm

#ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to catch you next week.

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#ThursThreads - Tying Tales Together - Week 263

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