Friday, December 20, 2013

Cooperative Flash Fiction: Part IV

Wow, I almost forgot how to write Roman numerals for a second there. Anyway...
Here is my contribution to (one of the multiple) Joe's Bar originated by Mr Urban Spaceman, and followed by Paul Baughman, and Wanderer.
The current week's challenge can be found here.

Joe's Bar

Part 1/5 by Mr Urban Spaceman:

“Buy me a drink,” he said, bloodshot eyes meeting mine from further down the bar, “and I’ll tell you how I broke the world.”

I gave a snort, took a long swig of my G&T, and turned my attention back to the game being shown on Joe’s decrepit TV.

“Go on,” he insisted, in a voice ravaged by years of strong alcohol. “It’ll be worth it.”

Glancing around, I looked for help, but none of the other patrons of the grotty bar were paying attention to me being pestered by the old loon, and the bartender was very focused on cleaning a glass. The old man’s eyes bored into me from beneath his dirty mop of hair, and in the dim light of Joe’s Bar I saw the dark red stains on his grey trenchcoat.

“Alright.” The game was dull anyway. “What’s your poison?”

“Scotch on the rocks.”

I nodded at the barkeep, and the old man watched hungrily as the amber nectar was poured.

“Go on then,” I prompted him. “Tell me how you broke the world.”

Friday, December 6, 2013

Cooperative Flash Fiction: Part III

Whew, it is week three of Chuck Wendig's 200 words at a time flash fiction challenge. I thought that it was difficult choosing a story the second week...I may have to contribute twice again this week as well. But for now here is the continuation of Fatma Alici's start, followed by Athena's addition, and my own. I decided to go back to Fatma's original pov...I'm fond of the back and forth perspectives.

Part 1/5 by Fatma Alici:

Another shot glass slammed down as Toops flashed her big, black eyes at me.  “Are you going to black out.”  Her tone as dry as the desert planet we had left.

“I never black out. “  I grinned motioning for another shot.  “I’m only resting my eyes.”

Toops rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.   “Yeah, I believe you, Lancer.  I really do.”  Her scarred fingers pushed her still full glass back and forth across the metal bar top.  “Didn’t you say we have a man coming in to offer us a job?

“You handle all the contracts.  I’m your simple minded muscle.”  I winked at her.  “Me big man.  Me hit things hard.”  The burning fire scalded my throat as I took another shot.

Her hand snapped out faster than my eye could follow.  Those strong fingers crushed mine into my palm.  “Do not call for another shot.  I swear I will break your fingers right now.”

A hearty chuckle rumbled up my throat.  “Alright, alright boss lady.”

My fingers were released.  “We are partners.”

“You say that now, but once the client gets here you’ll change your tune.”  She couldn’t deny it.  It was true.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Cooperative Flash Fiction: Part II...the second

Just for fun.
Original challenge can be found here.
My second, second 200 words were added to Mozette's start.

Apocalyptic Bounty Hunter
Part 1/5 by Mozette:

Rain poured from the sky.

Why did she wake up?

She wondered exactly how the day had begun as she pushed herself to get out of her bed and get dressed.

Ashlee pulled on her work boots, laced them up nice and tight, then came the bulletproof jacket – with full sleeves – that was handed out to all personnel.

Then, she picked up her remote from the duchess of make-up, a curling iron, hair ties and perfume, pointed it to the wall by her bed.  Pressing the blue button on the top left of it, a huge section of it slid forward, split into two horizontally and swung up and down on air-controlled hinges.
Ashlee had her pick of guns, artillery and high-tech gadgets to fight the ongoing battle which was going on beyond her front door.  But the first thing she did was pull on her vest which had empty pockets, zipped it up, clipped on a utility belt (which fitted neatly in a waistband gap around the vest – and could be worn on its own if needs be) and then, she began working on what she would need today.

Today, she was going to be busy.

Part 2/5 by me:

Three targets. Two of which had not been seen for over 180 days. One high priority, high profile, high risk. Not to mention the work that would have to be done in order to get downtown.

Monday, December 2, 2013

Cooperative Flash Fiction: Part II

Last week on Terribleminds...
Chuck challenges us to play Telephone. The first week marked the first 200 words of a flash fiction story. Here's mine. This week we are to choose a fellow's start and add another 200 to it (for a total of 400 words), then do the same next week, and the same the week after that, and so on until week five when we have a complete 1,000 word cooperative flash fiction story. For my second week contribution I chose to add to Paul Feeney's Untitled. Hopefully we will get to see three more people put the finishing touches to it!

Part 1/5 by Paul Feeney:

The killer knelt on the floor, the hard wooden boards digging into his kneecaps. His arms were bright crimson, in sharp contrast to his pale skin. It looked like he was wearing long red gloves, up to his elbows, an illusion spoiled only by the drops of thick liquid that splashed on the floor.

The fruit of his current labours lay spread before him, split open from belly to breastbone. The skin was peeled back in ragged flaps, a rough and grotesque flower open to the sun. He had tried to cut neat lines, but as his urge grew, so too had his impatience and before long he had been hacking at the flesh to reveal its treasures.

He looked down at the grey corpse, dried blood mottling the skin, its dead eyes open to the ceiling. Tiny lines burrowed into his forehead. He had been so close with this one, so sure. As his palm cradled the dying heart, the slow painful beats pulsing weaker and weaker, he was sure he'd been on the verge of a momentous revelation. But then the organ had failed and he was left with nothing.