Archive for flash fiction friday

Shadowplay

Posted in Flash stories, Short fiction stories with tags , , , , , , on 29/09/2012 by Cindy Vaskova

Still tip-toeing through the material; next week there shall be more weapon action.

A time travel two years prior to the events in this piece in The assassination of Steven Merritt

Shadowplay

28th of September, 2024

Outbreak day

“Senator Merritt! Senator Merritt! How would you comment on the development of the events from earlier today?”

“Senator Merritt, what would you say to the people of America? How would you assure them the streets are safe?”

“Senator Merritt, wouldn’t you agree that the statement you made two weeks prior to the breaking and entering in the new Prime Industries facility, which was that your impenetrable defense system will be taking over the national security of the country, has been completely destroyed and proven weak after what happened today? The safety has been compromised; what are your actions from now on?”

Steven Merritt stopped on the last marble step of the U.S. Capitol building. Chief of Security Paul Mulligan stood on his right.

“Currently the police force and its officers are managing to contain the wave of people protesting in the city center, and no military involvement is considered necessary. I can assure our citizens it will all be over before the day ends. My only plea towards the people watching is to remain calm.”

The senator smiled.

“What about the weapons stolen from your company? Has a list been made; do you senator know what is missing and what may outburst over the public?”

Steve Merritt opened his mouth but Chief Mulligan waved his large hand to attract the attention of the journalists.

“It has been made. The weapons have been located and are being collected and stored into safety as we speak. Now please, no more questions”

The senator and Paul Mulligan made their way to the black Mercedes limo, followed by a dozen journalists and cameras.

A reporter turned over to JS TV’s camera “While senator Merritt was unable to answer how his flawless system was breached earlier today our spokesmen downtown tells us the situation at the heart of the city continues to be hot and may derail once more. The President is about to give a spe..”

The voice of the anchorman was interrupted as the sensor monitor turned black.

“That’s enough.”

The two men sat in the backseat of a car parked in an alley downtown. The parade of posters and shouting through megaphones people marched before them. The riot was growing.

“Where do you think the “culprit” is now?”

The older man chuckled. It was a sour chuckle.

“He’s sipping his whiskey in Merritt’s office”

The younger man nodded.

“As you suspected”

The older mam’s eyes sparkled behind the glasses.

“This is theater. Each act welcomes more actors to the stage and the plot becomes more complicated. At one point the audience is unsure whether to trust the main characters. But still, they stay until the curtain falls. We’re merely at the beginning of this performance Jaquel. And we want a peak backstage. Merritt, he is only a string being pulled at the right moment. And that moment is now.”

“We know the outcome of his actions.  They need to be prevented.”

An envelope with pictures of a building in a desert region secured by huge machineguns with Prime Industries logo on them was handed to Jaquel. A yellow package containing two devices was also given to him.

“We believe the so-called stolen guns are strapped from their specialties and filled with blanks, whilst those of the armed troops are not. If you fail there will be anarchy tomorrow. There will be death. You are aware you’ ll be in danger at all times. There are powerful men watching today. The faceless ones. They will want to see more of Prime Ind. weapons in action. Let us disappoint them for now. First Merritt. Then the rest. “

The younger man, a tall brunette with a scar on his left cheek nodded again and stepped out of the vehicle.

Across the street a boy nearly eighteen was smoking a joint and observing the scandal. The view bored the teen and he backed to find another path around the scene when he spotted something metallic sticking from behind a trash can. He looked around. Then he picked up a handgun. On its handle there was a fingerprint recognition center. The boy thought “cool” and placed a thumb. The biometric system, intentionally set to enable firepower to anyone’s DNA, analyzed the current owner in 1.2 seconds and the LED light on the back of the pistol flashed green. The internal timer set the pistol to be active for 120 seconds. The system registered the lack of original ammunition. The power dropped by 78%.

The weapon felt heavy in his hands. He pointed it at the trash can and fired.

In the meantime an armored van pulled over at the barricade set in the middle of the street and more police officers jumped out of it. They wore helmets and held shields pushing back the crowd.  One officer stopped and stepped away. His helmet was registering the activity of one weapon from the list with stolen items from Prime Industries. The helmet scanned the street. The heat sensor picked movement in the back alley, left on the street. The search through Prime Ind.’s base gave a positive ID on the weapon – Ultim Digital; Prototype weapon ID code: X3422; Characteristics: 22. caliber, semi-automatic, 15 double penetrable bullet shells at 20x distance, optional attachable laser corpus IRIS with zoom-in.

The cop made his way to where the boy was still admiring the gun.

“Drop the weapon and we won’t have a problem okay kid?”

The boy looked at the heavily armed officer; his helmet was shining black, the visor not revealing the face, but reflecting the city lights. He gripped the handle of the gun tighter and pointed it at the officer.

“I found it. It’s mine.”

The officer lifted his shotgun; the laser aligned vertical on the handle was red; and pointed at the boy.

“Drop it kid.”

Terrified and shaking the boy squeezed the trigger.

The red light immediately switched to green as the shotgun spat a single bullet.

The blank bullet ricocheted from the armor of the cop; the pointy bullet whirled, for a split second the noises around going numb. The boy was thrown back by the impact of the bullet hitting his chest; he dropped before his fake bullet had bumped into the Nano suit of the cop.

The visor lifted, two blue eyes staring in amazement.

The atmosphere heated.

Riot.

 Not the end…soon to be more! 

Freedom

Posted in Flash stories, Short fiction stories with tags , , , , , on 15/06/2012 by Cindy Vaskova

I’m a bit off track this week, apologies for the out of tune and style flash but… next week a better one, promise!

Freedom 

A sparrow flew through space that is known and then it flew through space that is unknown and unexplored.  The ease with which he flapped his wings and glided between gas clouds and strangely shaped nebulas amused the sparrow. He was used to the sky back home, and after years of surviving the blue vastness he had come to the conclusion that there were limits; boundaries even invisible were set and one always knew where he would get if he flies south or north or east or west.

But this here… This was endless. Infinite.

The sparrow thought he could fly forever and still be just at the beginning of it.

He was all alone but that didn’t bother him. It made him feel safe. For the first time in his life he didn’t feel tiny and unimportant, he wasn’t scared that some rock thrown by a small human would snap his neck or a clawed predator would tear his chest open.

Being surrounded by billions and billions of glistening bodies and variety of colors made the sparrow happy, and he cheered with a skuak! which the darkness of  space took and shattered in particles of sound that died in the depths and looped back around moving inside holes and worlds until it was lost.

The sparrow was in peace.

* * *

“Mom! Mom! The birdie isn’t moving. Why isn’t it moving?”

“It’s dead idiot. The car ran over him”

Issy hissed at her little brother and poked the dead sparrow with her stick.

“Stop that Issy. Let’s get back in the house. Don’t cry Jamie, it’s all right. The little birdie is in a better place”

“Heaven?” asked Jamie in between sobs

“Maybe. A Heaven for birds”

Delirium

Posted in Flash stories, Short fiction stories with tags , , , , on 11/05/2012 by Cindy Vaskova

I won’t be having the opportunity to write longer pieces for a while, and I won’t be able to finish Mac Ensyl : Private Eye, but I wanted to share this one before I hit the hiatus. Originally written for Lily Childs Friday Prediction.

Enjoy!

Delirium

The mighty body of battlestar “Purgatory” exited the mist surrounding Zakaton’s belt and merged with the blackness of the universe. The ship speeded soundlessly, hurrying to deliver the special cargo kept within the walls of its dark and cold belly.

After months of performing this dance macabre under the suspicious watch of million stars, only a few knew the content of the hidden. One captain had cursed it, calling it entertainment for rich psychos.

Then the question fell.

What forbidden pleasure did humans pay for? A memory removed and stored, a nightmare extracted from a dream, preserved to haunt again…?

Flash Fiction today with two stories!

Posted in Flash stories, Short fiction stories with tags , , , , , , on 20/01/2012 by Cindy Vaskova

It’s Friday and time for some flash fiction ! 

Today there are two non-related  stories  in one post! But they actually do have something in common…hmm.

Enjoy :) 

 Dogs bark when diggers dig

“Do we have to do this?”

Rover gave him an angry look. Monroe had been asking pointless questions like this for over an hour now. Rover held his nerves trying not to shout at him:

“Yes, we have to. Now shut up and give me a hand. It’s not going to end sooner if you just stand there, hands in pockets.”

“But…” Monroe’s lazy voice spoke again.

“No objections! What’s wrong with you?!  Rover whispered to him through gritted teeth. He was this close to yelling at him.

Monroe sighted, rolled eyes,  pulled up the sleeves of his sweaty shirt, grabbed the shovel and started digging again.

The night was black as usual and mostly silent, with a bright moon, shining upon their digging experience.

A dog barked somewhere far, far away, but some fellow canine followed him in that dreadful idea, and then another, and another, and another one, some distant, some closer until all their cries in the night synchronizing into one barking crescendo.

Monroe always thought when dogs bark like this they chitchat on some very controversial topic judging by the woof’s and grows.

The two men didn’t pay any notice to that just continued digging. They had to make sure all those bodies they’ve buried along the years are still deep down in the ground. Rover and Monroe surely didn’t want any guests from the past at their doorstep. With the whole zombie infection running through town right now you never know.

They had to know.

 

*            *             *

Anonymous

I know how he feels every time the door gets opened and the cold night air comes into the warm and loud café. It touches his skin with icy tongues; cold fingers run on his back and the wind feels like a frozen kiss on his neck.

I can see him shiver and shake his shoulders to chase the cold away. Then he sips some of the hot chocolate before him, and I can tell it warms his entire body for a second, hot liquid rolling down his throat.  But it’s too hot and it burns his tongue, so he squeezes his eyes from the short steaming sensation. He orders a glass of water, hoping it would cool him a bit, and it does but still the taste in his mouth remains somehow flavorless with the next drink of chocolate. It pinches the tip of his tongue. He shakes head ignoring that, and continues to have his conversation with the rest of the people at the table.

Interesting, but he doesn’t notice me staring at him, licking my lips, biting them. He doesn’t feel me like I feel him. He probably can’t.

I hear his heartbeat, pulse after pulse; I feel his warm and sweet breath; the vibration of every thought he has before transforming it to speech. I feel them like my own.

I only come here because of him, two times a week, every Wednesday and Friday, exactly at 20:00 PM. No one knows me, and I know no one. I am only another girl in the café, sitting alone at my corner table with a cup of cold, untouched caramel macchiato.

But it doesn’t matter. I pay no attention to such things like loneliness, or cups left full. And I especially don’t care nor need him to know me or notice me, in order to eat him. I sit here just because I simply like observing my pray, before feeding myself with it.

And oh, how yummy he looks!

 

The Paper Doll

Posted in Short fiction stories with tags , , , , , , on 16/12/2011 by Cindy Vaskova

Some time ago I’ve submited a flash fiction story to Morgen Bailey’s Writing Blog and she was kind enough to post it :D  in the section for Flash Fiction Friday, which you can find here, if following Morgen’s daily & flash fiction you’ll see it there, as well as many other amazing stories which will blow your mind away! So link is posted bellow, hope you like “The Paper Doll” and don’t forget to check out the rest :)

http://morgenbailey.wordpress.com/2011/12/16/flash-fiction-friday-no-13-the-paper-doll-by-cindy-vaskova/

Enjoy and take care :)

hocuspocus13

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