Scrawling a Bit of Fiction V+

24 02 2013

As usual, the ladies at ermiliablog keep churning out prompts. And here I am. Keeping at it. It’s a unique photo this week, not taken by viewer submission or otherworldly catalog, no! This week it is the photography of THE Ermisenda Alvarez, half of the dynamic duo!

So how about some fiction? As always, the picture that follows is there for as inspirational gubbins. Enjoy.



When I finally get to the car, a ’68 cherry red stingray with the world’s most archaic looking lock and key for theft prevention, I realize nothing is going right. I pat my pockets again which does little but remind me how bad the bleed is. No key. I look down at my thigh in hopes that it’s magically staunched the blood on its own. It hasn’t.

That’s when I decided I probably didn’t have that much time. Before going back up the trail I grab my pocket knife and cut away a strip of my shirt. With a half assed Led-Zeppelin bandage I hustled back to the house. Who has that kind of a freaking lock on their car anyhow?

The porch has collapsed. The support timbers still stand; the tops bowed out and splintered like giant termites exploded inside. The white shingled mess makes a rough horseshoe around the door just big enough to crawl through.

Inside is a lot worse. Broken glass, bits of furniture, and the charred remains of two men litter the floor in the foyer. The doorway from here to the dining room is still barricaded and the only way to go is through the office (since that barricade is smashed to shit) or up the stair case. Jesse is probably stupid enough to hide upstairs so looks like the office is right out.

Walking up the stairs I almost forget where I am. The glazed wood, though slick with blood and some clear viscous fluid, shines through; a testament to old southern craftsmanship. Even the remnants of such heinous acts as this cannot mare the beauty of honest American carpentry.

I wipe the crap off my hand with one of the curtains in the hall at the top of the stairs before pressing on. It’s well lit up here. A fire that persists from the night before smolders contently outside of Kara’s room. I’d go in to see if she still had her gun in the bedside table but I remember seeing half of her in the kitchen last night and I don’t think I could stomach finding the rest.

Plus I needed to get gone already.

The door to Jess’ room is slightly ajar. I can’t open it without giving it a pretty good push with my shoulder. Jess is still in there. Alive somehow, shaking in the corner where the bed meets the wall, machete in one hand, an old pocket watch in the other.

“It don’t like time much Red.” He says to me.

“Alright Jess.” I try to play it off. “How’s about we skip out on this party eh? It’s kind of dead.”

“Really Red? Little soon don’t you think?” he waves the machete at the opposite wall behind the door. His girlfriends still lying there, little foam bubbles popping around the corners of her mouth. I say I’m sorry and coax him the rest of the way out of the corner.

Now I feel like an ass.

But, ass or not, we high tail it out of there.

 The run back out of the house was about what I thought it was going to be. As we stepped off the porch and into the grass things start to get a little fuzzy and my head starts swimming a little.

“Red you don’t look so good man.” Jess says, meanwhile he’s trying to help keep me up on my feet. My leg is getting worse.

I ask Jess why Eddy has such a big old key for the locks on his car door.

“Ed says it keeps the monsters out while he’s driving.” He tells me. I always figured Ed was full of it with all that monster crap. Wish I had been right. Turns out the guy wasn’t so crazy after all.

We make it to the car right before I’m getting ready to pass out. Jess sets me down and starts fumbling with the lock on the passenger’s door. He gets the key half turned before he stops and says, “Jesus Red, it’s already in the car!”

That’s when he ran.

That’s when I died.

And right after that is where it gets really interesting.




3 responses

24 02 2013

This has taken an interesting turn on the prompt! Love the last line. Well done!

24 02 2013
Kyllan Brindle

Joe, always a pleasure. Appreciate the kindness sir. Was worried about this one! For whatever reason I decided I’d write something in first person which I feel particularly weak at!

25 02 2013

Yikes! What an ending. When Jess shared Ed’s thoughts on keeping the monsters out of the car, I thought how it kept Red out. By the sounds of the massacre inside that house, he is a monster! Love the subtle detail of what happened, the bubbles in the corner of the girlfriends mouth. I’m curious as to what happened…maybe I don’t want to know! Thanks for contributing this week, Kyllan, and for the extra mention of the photography. 🙂

– Ermisenda

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