I is an Illusion

invisible

The Invisible Man

Jonathan wandered through the ruins, awkwardly stepping over stone debris in what was left of a large city. It looked like Los Angeles but he wasn’t sure. The city was old. It reminded him of when he was a kid, but he didn’t know why.

“What am I doing here? Where is everybody?”

The air was full of dust or soot. It gave everything a yellowish or brownish tinge, like an old sepia tone photo. Jonathan, at least he thought that was his name, came to a part of the sidewalk that was mostly flat covered with gravel rather than stone blocks. He was near an intersection.

Then he saw someone else. Jonathan almost called out but then stopped. Something about the other man made him feel scared. The man had his back to him. He was wearing a brown fedora and tan rain coat, even though it was absolutely dry. Then the man turned around.

He had no face.

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The Burning

snow

© A Mixed Bag – 2012

I had less than six hours to find them but that would be enough. Snow betrayed them. Their tracks were easily followed. They’d hoped anyone seeing them would assume they were made by early morning walkers, but in this kind of cold, any sane person would be still in bed or warming themselves around a wood stove or fireplace. The only reason churches would be full later today was because of the birth of our Savior.

“I’m coming to get you, you thirsty bastards.”

Their tracks eventually left the road and went into a field. Beyond the field was a dilapidated old warehouse. Perfect for them and for me. No other structures would be involved. I pulled off one glove, retrieved my cell and made frozen fingers punch in the number.

“Coltin here. I’ve found the place. I’ll text you the coordinates. Bring up the incendiaries, all of them. Yes, it’s felony arson but we can take out a hundred sleeping vampires in one shot. Oh and hurry. I’m freezing out here.”

We wouldn’t be ready until about an hour before sunset, but the lights of Christmas Eve would burn Anchorage clean this year in the name of Christ.

I wrote this for the Sunday Photo Fiction Challenge of December 24th, 2017. The idea is to use the image above to inspire the creation of a piece of flash fiction no more than 200 words long. My word count is 200.

In keeping with my current theme of vampires, I figured that in a snowy environment, they’d leave tracks just like anyone else. I needed a cold climate and a short day, so I chose Anchorage, Alaska. Sunrise isn’t until 10:15 a.m. and the sun sets at 3:44 p.m. That means my story happens at mid morning so I’m figuring on Christmas Eve services at noon and in the evening, so no one’s out except the vampire hunters. Currently in Anchorage (as I write this) it’s 16 degrees F with a predicted high of 22. Not the sort of weather I’d be out walking in first thing.

If a town or city were being preyed upon by a group of vampires, and if they tended to stay in one place during daylight, then taking them out by fire would be the best plan for extermination. Fun fact. Certain places in Louisiana light Christmas bonfires. Although I didn’t have a sufficient word count to mention it, let’s say that’s where Coltin is from. This will be a very special Christmas bonfire indeed.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

Let the Trees Be Burning Bright

christmas

© Roger Shipp

“I’m sorry but we’ll be needin’ this tree too, younguns.”

“But Pa!”

“Please don’t take it, Pa!”

Jeffrey and Constance wailed at their Father as he and three other large, rough men in heavy coats and workmen’s boots tramped into their one room sod house and took the first Christmas tree they’d ever had in their young lives. Ornaments of paper and tin, woven grass and dried corn shook free and fell to the dirt floor.

Their Ma held them back as the nine-year-old boy and his seven-year-old sister struggled. There were no presents for they were too poor, so their gayly decorated pine fir was their only symbol of hope and magic.

As the men retreated, their wives brought their children in either wailing or mute with terror. The women and their young huddled around the stove, burning hot with buffalo chips.

There were only a few such trees brought in from the mountains leagues afar, but burning them until dawn was the only way they knew to keep the werefolk at bay. Too late had the plains settlers discovered they’d homesteaded on lands cursed by the Heathen gods when the first white men landed in the new world.

I wrote this for the Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner – 2017 Week #51 writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as the prompt for crafting a piece of flash fiction up to 200 words long. My word count is 200.

I seem to remember posting stories for this particular challenge in the past, but somehow have failed to do so for several months. I just saw a blog post by someone else which reminded me and also was sorry to see that only one other person responded, even though it first went online on the 20th.

Since we’re just a few days away from Christmas, I have been inundated with Christmas related prompts and it’s getting harder to respond to them creatively. I’ve been writing a lot of vampire-related short stories recently, so I decided to keep with the horror theme though not specifically addressing the undead.

In this piece, I’ve chosen something menacing plains settlers of the 18th or 19th centuries and made up the remedy of burning fir trees, uncommon on the grassy plains, in response to an attack of cursed were-creatures. The joy and glad tidings that Christmas trees symbolize for some had to give way to the practicality of defending against supernatural killers.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

The Winter Feast of the Children

christmas prompt

© Sammi Cox

Christmas was the perfect time of year, especially in such high latitudes. There were less than four hours of daylight in Nome which meant Tarkik could move around with almost perfect impunity. To the sick inuit children, he came as a Shaman bringing the blessings of Quviasukvik, and to the white boys and girls in town, he appeared as Santa Claus. The doctors thought they merely suffered from tonsilitis but his keen senses told him it was worse. If any of them died by his ministrations, a growing epidemic would be the perfect cover.

Tapeesa and Amaruq trusted the Shaman to be alone with their little girl Yuka. Tarkik took only a little of her blood, she’d never remember it. He had been feeding well this winter and the blood of children was warm and invigorating. He slowly, lovingly licked the last crimson drops from her soft, supple neck before pulling her nightgown and blankets back up. He could afford to be a gracious hunter after all.

Rachel Van Helsing was never kind or forgiving but it would be over another month before she could arrive in Nome, and only then with the first dog sled teams bringing vital serum to stem the diphtheria outbreak. The vampire Bartholomew Crowe confessed his last victim’s name and location under torture when she captured him in Anchorage. Once the daughter of Abraham Van Helsing located the latest threat, Tarkik would come under the tender mercies of her blade and stake.

I wrote this for the Weekend Writing Prompt #34 – Christmas challenge hosted by Sammi Cox. There are separate rules for the prose vs. poetry challenge, but in my case, I could use the image, the word “Christmas,” or both as the inspiration for crafting a Happy Christmas or Horror Christmas flash fiction tale of no more than 250 words. My word count is 249.

Since I’ve been writing a lot of vampire-based fiction lately, I settled on that theme, but needed some sort of Christmas hook. At first I thought of a vampire disguising himself as Santa Claus and visiting sick children in hospitals, but he’d never be alone with the kids in order to “put the bite” on them.

I did a bit of Googling and the idea of making the setting in “Nome, Alaska” popped into my head. I looked up Nome and discovered the 1924-25 diphtheria epidemic among the inuit children and the famous 1925 serum dog sled run which was the only way to transport diphtheria antitoxin to that remote area.

In December 1924, diphtheria had not yet been diagnosed and local doctors thought the first several children were suffering from tonsilitis. I made my vampire an inuit so he could pass casually among the population and found that among the inuits, there is a winter feast called Quviasukvik that incorporates a number of Christmas-like elements. So my vampire could pass among the inuit families as a Shaman and the white Christian families as Santa Claus visiting the sick kids and, once alone with them, feeding on their blood.

I looked up sunrise and sunset times in Nome for December 23rd. The sun comes up at 12:03 p.m. and sets at 3:59 p.m. Tarkik can be active for about twenty full hours in complete darkness, maximizing his ability to feed on many children (and probably a few adults) so he doesn’t have to take too much from any one of them.

Oh, I looked up Inuit names for my several indigenous story characters.

Vampire hunter Abraham Van Helsing first appeared in Bram Stoker’s 1897 Gothic horror novel “Dracula.” I figured the elder Van Helsing was a little too old to keep on pursuing vampires and the original canon did say he had a daughter (although her first name changes depending on which source you consult).

Of course, after torturing a confession out of another vampire to discover who and where the next undead predator could be found, Rachel would still have to brave a lengthy and dangerous journey by dog sled on the mission to get the antitoxin to Nome (in real life I seriously doubt she would have been allowed to make the trip), only arriving by early February. That would give my vampire over a month to continue enjoying the winter feast of the children.

To find out more about the challenge and read other stories and poems based on the prompt, click this link.

One Wish

north pole post office

North Pole, Alaska Post Office – Found at PostOfficePhotos.info

“This is your idea of a joke perhaps? I hate Christmas.”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life and you know it.”

“I told you I cannot take lives but neither can I grant them. I cannot save even one, no matter who it is.

“I have but one wish for you.”

“All of them? There are so many.”

“No, not all. Just these.” Meredith wheeled a canvas container in front of Abu Nuh Maimun. She had acquired his services quite by accident and had less than twenty-four hours to exploit them.

He read the label on the side of the voluminous bin of letters, “The Make-A-Wish Foundation.”

“You are Postmaster of North Pole, Alaska for the day. I have exactly one wish and you as a Jinn must fulfill it.” She shook the side of the container filled with letters from children all over the world.

“Grant them!”

I wrote this for the What Pegman Saw writing challenge. The idea is to take a Google maps image and/or location and use it as a prompt to create a piece of flash fiction no more than 150 words long. My word count is 150.

Today the Pegman takes us to North Pole, Alaska. Yes, it’s a real place and every Christmas season, their post office is deluged with letters addressed to Santa Claus. I looked the town up on Wikipedia and it’s decorated for Christmas year-round. Especially in warmer months, it’s quite the tourist attraction (Santa Claus House closes during the week in January and February because of the extreme cold).

I originally thought of a person or supernatural being who absolutely hates Christmas being condemned to live in North Pole, Alaska as punishment for some horrendous crime. But as I pondered the concept and remembered those letters, I considered the idea of granting the wishes of children. I didn’t want to grant them all since I don’t necessarily believe in supporting the Christmas feeding frenzy of consumerism and greed. However, there is one worthy cause, one collection of children who deserve everything they ask for, at least their final wish, which is what the Make-A-Wish Foundation does for children with life-threatening medical conditions.

So Meredith has acquired the services of one of the Seven Kings of the Jinn (in this case Saturday’s) for twenty-four hours and her one wish is for Abu Nuh Maimun to grant what those letters request (I’m playing fast and loose with the “wish count limitation” since there are probably hundreds or thousands of letters in that one canvas bin). Oh, I made up the twenty-four hour limit so that Meredith had to act fast in utilizing her wish. I’m sure given time, she could have thought of a more effective way of applying a single wish for practically anything in order to help the maximum number of deserving children.

I don’t celebrate this particular holiday, but if I had to grant one wish on Christmas it would go pretty much the same way.

To read other stories based on the prompt, visit InLinkz.com.

Blood and Misery

stock bearded man

Stock photo of a bearded man in a suit

“He looks like a cool drink of water but he’s candy-coated misery…”

Autumn 1977 – Stanford University, California

“As you can see in this EEG readout General, our Receiver subject’s brain waves are changing, beginning to match those of the Sender subject’s patterns we can see here on the remote receiver.”

“How far away is the Sender, Dr. Targ?” Brigadier General Nathaniel J. Stuart had been briefed on the technology involved in Targ’s and Puthoff’s experiments and he felt that the extraordinarily sensitive nature of their work required he view the preliminary evidence without being accompanied by his aides.

“Approximately half a mile, General.”

“And there’s no way they could possibly be in communication through conventional means. What about the EEG devices? Could they be connected in some way to produce this effect?”

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The Thaw

the thaw

© Sue Vincent

It wasn’t the ravenous hunger that awoke her for that had been with her since the accident. There was a sound, a new sound. Water. She could hear tiny trickles of water around her.

Aleera didn’t know how long she had been in the dark with the unrelenting pressure keeping her immobile. The cold was irrelevant to her, even the lack of air was meaningless, but the weight above her was massive. She hadn’t been able to move so she slept, though fitfully. She experienced moments of startling lucidity and then she panicked. She was trapped, unable to move more than the slightest degree in her fingers and toes. What had happened? If only she could remember.

Then she would drift away again into blessed oblivion within her accursed prison.

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Dangerous Woman

dangerous woman

From the cover of the Deluxe Edition of the Ariana Grande album “Dangerous Woman.”

“Somethin’ ’bout you makes me feel like a dangerous woman…”

Writers Max Martin, Ross Golan, Johan Jens Erik Carlsson
from Dangerous Woman performed by Ariana Grande.

The latex bunny rabbit suit complete with matching mask and ears made her at once seem totally ridiculous and incredibly sexy. Anybody who had ever wanted to fuck Babs Bunny definitely wanted to screw this Ariana wannabe…that is until she pulled the 12mm Uzi from behind her back and started firing into the crowd of fellow cosplayers, celebrities, and comic book fans.

The instant she depressed the trigger, the chorus to “Dangerous Woman” started blaring over the loudspeakers throughout the main floor of the Boise Centre on the Grove convention center, providing musical accompaniment to murder.

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Without God

vampire verona

Found at “Book More Brides”.

The Fifth Chapter in the Undead Life of Sean Becker

“I tell you I turned him, so he’s mine!” Dolingen screeched, her piercing voice terrifying Sean.

“I spilled first blood, marked him for our kind. How dare you challenge me!”

Marishka and Dolingen were more like animals, rivals vying for a single mate,ready to kill for him. The scene was made all the more surreal by the sparely placed halogen lamps, normally used for emergency lighting in any other environment, providing the only illumination in their makeshift crypt.

“Wait! What am I, fresh meat?”

They both turned toward Sean as if noticing him for the first time. Fangs bared and hissing like twin feral cats, they clearly thought of him as property and all that needed to be settled is who took possession.

Antonie had first laughed at this sport like a mad Nero holding the match that ignited  a burning Rome. Then he crossed his arms and seemed content to be casually amused by their display. As the two female predators began to slowly advance on the object of their struggle, the Romanian waved his arms and then a dozen family members immediately advanced to restrain the both of them.

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The Romanian

montenegro

© Björn Rudberg

He was among the locals and tourists trapped in that little shop when Italian troops declared curfew. An unseasonable cold front lightly dusted medieval Kotor with snow. He couldn’t remain until morning but preferred to leave undetected.

He walked past quaint hats and other curios intending to escape out the rear.

“Monsieur, stay. You’re safe with us.” The Frenchman thought he was being kind.

“I have business elsewhere,” he said in accented French.

Antonie slipped into the darkness, encountering the three soldiers patrolling the alley. Later, they’d recall experiencing sudden fatigue. No one knew what happened to the Vampiritic-looking Romanian.

I authored this for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields writing challenge. The idea is to use the image above as the inspiration for crafting a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long. My word count is 100.

At first, I had no idea what I was looking at. I did a Google image search but it primarily came up with salami and various cloth items. Finally, I was able to figure out they were stacks of knitted hats.

I saw the photo was credited to Björn Rudberg so I went to his blog and saw the domain country extension was .me which is Montenegro. I did more Googling (the research took longer than the actual writing) and found the medieval coastal city of Kotor among other things.

I couldn’t find a news story that interested me, but noted the history of the area during World War II and how it was primarily occupied by the Italians from 1941 to 1943. That still didn’t provide me with a complete “hook,” so I leveraged the vampire character Antoine from my Sean Becker Undead Series and placed him in Kotor when the Italians first occupied the area in April 1941. Given the snow in the background of the photo, I made up an unseasonable cold snap.

I’ve read stories (okay, Marvel’s “Dracula” comic books from the 1970s) which took a modern-day vampire and sometimes set him back in history through flashbacks/memories. I thought I’d try that with Antonie who exists in 2017 but who is thought to be very old.

To read other stories based on the prompt, visit InLinkz.com.