Buck was a strange old man, but he had the best collection of vintage science fiction and horror paperbacks and comics in Las Vegas. Every Saturday, I ride my Schwinn Sting-Ray to “The Fantasy Express” looking for rare or out-of-print books. I’m only twelve, so my budget is small, but one of the things about Buck is that he gives big discounts if he likes you.
“I see you’re staring at the Demon’s Cup. Interested?” Buck jerks his thumb up at the object of my interest on a shelf behind him. He takes it down and puts it on the counter.
“What is it?”
“Legends say it’s made from a pigmy skull sacrificed to demons.”
“How much?” I picked it up. It was really metal and maybe bone and it was heavy.
“Ninety-nine cents.”
One of Buck’s special bargains. I had the money, but how would my folks react?
“Not today, Buck.”
“Your loss. Someone else will buy it soon.” He picked up the skull goblet and put it back on its shelf.
I finished shopping and felt relief as I walked out.
Buck had a week to sell the artifact before the curse of the Demon’s Cup claimed him.
This flash fiction story was inspired by a photo prompt at Sunday Photo Fictioner. You can read other submissions to this writing challenge at InLinkz.com.
When I was twelve years old, I really did ride my bike to a used comic book and paperback store in North Las Vegas every Saturday. I don’t remember the name of the place or the owner, but in retrospect, he wasn’t that old, maybe in his early 50s. He talked a lot about serving in the Navy during World War 2.
He didn’t sell cursed artifacts, which is lucky for me, but my comic book and paperback collections swelled thanks to my shopping there.
When I saw the photo, imagination collided with memory, and here we are. I just hope Buck makes it okay, but I feel sorry for the person who buys the cup. And to think my friend tried to foist it off on me.
The word count limit for this challenge is 200, and I just barely made it.
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Lovely story. This is quite the quagmire for Buck, He could try to find a way to bind the curse instead of passing it on to the next victim.
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He might not know how to do that. Heck, even I don’t know how to do that. 😉
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He should look for Miss Dracula in my story. She might know a thing or two 😂
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Nice take again James. I suspect Buck may be out of luck, even if he tries to give it away for free.
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I suspect he’ll find some gullible person to sell to. The only reason the boy didn’t is because he knew his parents would throw a fit if he brought that thing home.
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I wonder if he could drop it in the water and give it to the fishes. Not a nice man though if he is wiling to give it to a 12 year old. But I suppose desperation was getting the better of him.
I like the way you used memories to paint the picture. It is good when we can draw something from memory. it allows us to be more descriptive of it.
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Good writing and story, James. My son used to collect comic books. I wonder what the curse changed the person into. 🙂 — Suzanne
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My original intent is that it just killed people after one week. They way out of getting killed is either to give/sell it to someone else before the week is up, or to perform a blood sacrifice with the victim’s blood draining into the cup. Of course, I didn’t have enough room in the story to include all that, and leaving it somewhat a mystery heightens the tension in the story.
Thanks for stopping by and commenting.
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