“I watched the vulture looking at me hungrily as I lay on the ground bleeding and injured.” Two thoughts entered my mind. One, it would come for me before the day ended. Two, night would reach me before it did. I shut my eyes and prayed for the night.
“Mama! Mama! Look! A man!… He’s bleeding”.
I wished, that was my son Toby calling his mama, but Toby was no longer five. He turned 17 last June. The Cult dumped my body early this morning and drove away with Toby. I may never see my son again.
“Get back here!” a woman shouted. I opened my eyes. She was closer than I thought, moving cautiously around me. Her eyes were as sharp as the vulture’s. She was not hungry, hers was a look of horror. What have they done to me, what can she see?
This is my contribution to Mondays Finish the Story. This flash fiction challenge requires up to 150 words excluding the first sentence provided by Barbara Beacham. Barbara also provides the image. This image inspired several stories, but I decided to go with this one. I hope you enjoy the story.
“The Cold Lazarus” – JK.Leahy short story
“Few knew about the castle hidden inside the island.” Jezebel climbed carefully over the fragile, sunburnt coral.
As her tender arches gripped for support, she reached out to push the hanging vines apart. Crushed coral dust and tiny pale branches fell off her feet and into the deep blue ocean a few metres below her. A boat approached. Beyond the gentle hum of the breeze, there was a splash in the creek at the opening. Jezebel hesitated before high strident, piercing screeches shocked her as a swarm of black scrawny bats flew at her, ruffling her wispy golden hair. She gasped for air. Suddenly, it dawned on her. The note on her window that led her here; was that really a note from James, her sweetheart? Or was it from Lazarus, James’ evil twin? Ice flooded her veins as she saw his towering, hefty silhouette come into view at the castle entrance. Where was James?
Mondays Finish the Story is a flash fiction challenge by Barbara W. Beacham. The story requires 100-150 words (excluding the first sentence which Barbara writes). She also provides the picture. The challenge runs from Monday to Sunday. Last week, I was away in PNG and missed this one but the picture inspired me so I went ahead and wrote my story. My son Nathan wanted to write a story for this challenge as well so I hope you like what we did.
“The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode.”
On the edge, Maine, Tony and Boxer stopped. It rained. Cuffed in a hessian bag, Benny struggled. In turns, they kicked him into a bloody heap. The bag came off.
“Leave him,” Tony said. “The animals will get him”.
“Finish him off – Frank’s orders,” Maine growled and kicked Benny in the crotch.
Benny curled, feeling warm between his legs where his urine could not wait.
“Someone’s coming. Run!” – Boxer yelled and drove away.
A car stopped. Footsteps approached.
“I told those idiots to bury the fucker. He’s alive? Pick him up”. It was Frank.
Four hands shoved under Benny’s arms. They drove to the cemetery and stopped.
“Throw him in there,” Frank ordered. Benny hit the fresh grave landing – hard. He waited for the trigger. Instead, soft, dry soil slapped his wet face. Frank was burying him alive, just like he buried his wife, Benny’s lover of two years.
My son Nathan Harris was inspired to write his own 150 words that takes place after my story. This was Nathan’s own writing and I have not changed a word.
“The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode.”
“Seemed a fitting place as any to leave that shit Benny” Frank smirked as he opened his door, escaping the storm. He had just enough time to notice a set of muddy footprints before the crack of a gunshot hushed the rain, and searing pain through his leg dropped him to one knee. As Frank cursed on the floor, the slender form of a dead man dissolved into view; his pinstripe suit was caked with mud.
“Benny?” Frank gurgled, “How the bloody hell did you – ”
“Rookie…” Benny coughed, lungs choking on earth, and emptied his last 5 shots into Frank’s gut.
Frank clutched himself, frozen in pain and fear. As the last moments of his life drained away, Benny strode to the door and glanced back.
“When you try bury someone, you bury them deep…” he began softly, “because a shallow grave won’t hold a vengeful man down.”
Mondays Finish the Story is a flash fiction challenge by Barbara W. Beacham. The story requires 100-150 words (excluding the first sentence). The challenge runs from Monday to Sunday. Here is my short story for this week’s prompt based on the first sentence below and the picture.
“The family had no idea that little Luigi would grow up to be a…murderer.”
The shock was too much to bear as police led Luigi away from the courtroom. He caught his sister’s gaze and his terrifying eyes softened. Martha turned to her mother; they both buried their faces in uncle Dino’s old, smoke-soaked coat.
“It’s not him, it’s not him – I know… I know,” Martha cried. She felt the 65-year-old Dino’s grip tighten as he led them to his car, barreling through the flashing media cameras and the crowd. Many had come to see New York’s District Attorney Martha Luciano’s brother sentenced today.
“Grim Day for Luciano Family”, headlines screamed across the streets in earlier hours.
Three days later, Martha brought Luigi the aged Polaroid of the family that he had asked for. Her eyes salted as she tried to smile. Trembling, she leaned closer to her beloved 26-year-old brother.
“I can’t Luigi…you can’t go to jail for me,” Martha sobbed.
(You can read my other short stories by clicking on the top menu on Tribalmystic Stories home page)
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