Thursday, September 19, 2013

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 88


Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. Is it fall yet? It's Thursday again, so what should you be doing? Writing #FlashFiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 88 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Need the rules? Read on!

Here's how it works:
  • The prompt is a line from the previous week's winning tale.
  • The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
Rules to the Game:
  • This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
  • Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
  • Post your story in the comments section of this post
  • Include your word count (or be excluded from judging)
  • Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)
  • The challenge is open 7 AM to 7 PM Pacific Time
  • The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up.
How it benefits you:
  • You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we're all about promotion - you know you are!)
  • You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
  • Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, and Google Plus

Our Judge for Week 88:

Classic Literature professor, left side driver, and erotic romance author, Lexi Post.



And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“There’s no revenge.”

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck!

26 comments:

  1. Word count: 188
    Twitter: @torncashmere

    It's not revenge when Virginia hurts them. There's no revenge. But there is vengeance, hot and pure, for the innocents whose lives were destroyed or ended. It's a fine line to walk, and she's been in front of the angelic quorum more times than she can count to answer for excessive brutality. “You can't scatter every child molester in sentient, screaming pieces on the bottom of the sea,” Gabriel said with exasperation. Virginia didn't see why not. Justice is what drives her, flows through her from the soles of her feet to the tip of her burning sword. Some have said that she doesn't understand mercy, though that's not quite true. But when she hears a child cry out, it's not mercy that answers. The suffering of the innocent is an abomination, a wrongness in the ordering of the universe. The wrongness of it chafes and plagues her. She was not created to be merciful—she was created to right those wrongs, to give pain to those who understand nothing else. With a singleness of purpose that belongs to angels and gods alone, Virginia cleanses with sword and fire.

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    Replies
    1. Very interesting piece that connects the character to the reader. Tenses are mixed which weakens it; however, motivation is clear and precludes coming conflict.

      Delete
  2. Battle For Focus

    He found her in the caves below the castle. Already encased in layers of padding, chain mail and studded leather, she was surveying her weapons. Though he had never been known to go into trouble light, he was still taken aback by the arsenal laid out on the rough plank table.

    She left nothing to chance inspecting her various blades, giving each a final pass with the whetstone as necessary. Only when she’d slid each into place on belt, baldric or in her boot tops did a small rumble from deep in his throat disturb her.

    Rounding on him with quicksilver speed, the dagger in her hand seeming to have sprung from thin air, he found himself pushed to the cold stone wall with the point of the knife pricking his throat. Before she could register that he was no foe but her lifelong friend, Cambric slapped her hard to the face with one hand while the other locked an iron grip on her wrist forcing the steel down and away until it clanked on the floor. Old he might be getting but not so old as all that.

    “Here now! I told you if your head’s not in the right place ye’d not be along tonight. Ye must focus, lass, focus! Yer brother might be lost to us forever among them savage curs but ye have to keep it together. There’s no revenge. There’s no vendetta. There’s no personal grudges here, aye?”

    Nodding her assent, Laera followed him out.

    250 words @klingorengi

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    Replies
    1. Great description. Good historic feel with fast surprise action. Both characters come out looking strong.

      Delete
  3. “Paul Peret is dead Cara.”
    “You killed him?”
    “Yes, he deserved it after what he did to you. Now you can be yourself again.”
    “You don’t understand anything, Brandon,” I cried.
    “I understand you’ve been in pain, that you blamed yourself for what he did.”
    “I’m still in pain Brandon. This nightmare will never go away. I close my eyes and feel his breath on my shoulder his hands everywhere.”
    “But you don’t have to feel that way anymore. I told you he’s dead.”
    “Because you got your revenge?”
    “Yes, I got my revenge.”
    “There’s no revenge. There is no redemption. Only pain and fear that doesn’t go away. I have to find my own way out of this, but I did need you by my side. Now you’ve made all of this worse, because you won’t be there to support me.”
    “You’re going to turn me in?”
    “No, they’ll find out and when they do it will be worse for us.”
    “I’m sorry Helena.”
    “I know and I can forgive you. But can you forgive yourself?”
    “I did what needed to be done. He was a monster.”
    “In my dreams I wanted to punish him, but I didn’t want to become like him.”
    “Do you think I’m like him?”
    “Did he bite you or scratch you?”
    “Yes.”
    “They will come at nightfall of the full moon, a week from now.”
    “I’m sorry, Helena.”
    “We’ll go to Canada, maybe they won’t pursue us there.”
    “I’ll help you pack.”
    248 words
    @SweetSheil

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    Replies
    1. Quick fast dialogue here. Would like to know more about the characters. Is she fisting her hands, is he reaching towards her. Great hook near the end.

      Delete
  4. Moira could no more stop her gaze from dropping to his groin than she could stop the water in the falls. Dark hair led from his belly straight to his balls and despite the cold, she appreciated the size of his package. Hell, if that’s him small…

    Aiden strode to his clothes left on a boulder beside the creek and scrubbed his body down with a towel, giving her a lovely view of his taut ass and back. Moira swallowed her tongue as she took in the intricate back panel tattoo of a Celtic knotted raven. She wanted to trace the lines with her fingers. Hell, even with her tongue. There’s no revenge quite like a man showing off for you.

    She realized she’d been staring when the view disappeared under his shirt and she’d already missed him pulling on his pants. Get a hold of yourself. Moira shook her head and squared her shoulders just as he turned around, shrugging into his jacket.

    He met her eyes boldly, shocking her again. “Hello, Moira.”

    “Aren’t you cold?” Not her brightest comeback, but his reappearance, naked, combined with his confidence threw her off balance.

    “It definitely gives a whole new meaning to chilling out.” He chuckled. “What brings you out here to the old Durango Mine?”

    “I found your truck.” Moira waved back the way she’d come. “Are you okay?”

    “I’m fine. Are you? You seem a little flustered.”

    Understatement of the year. “Uh, yeah, okay. Right. Okay.”

    247 ineligible #WIP500 words
    @SiobhanMuir

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    Replies
    1. Good voice in this snippet as well as drool-worthy description. Just a sneak peek, makes a reader want more.

      Delete
  5. “Jimmy! He’s dead. There’s no revenge. Chill.”

    Panting, I struggled against Aaron, trying to get to the man lying dead on the ground, the man who owned me thousands in drug money. The cold, biting wind of a Nebraska winter whipped through my thin jacket and I shivered.

    “He owes me!” I screamed. I wrenched myself from my boyfriend and kicked the body in front of me. “You fuckin’ owe me, you bastard!”

    I grabbed a gun from my jacket, aimed it at his head. But Aaron was faster and took the pistol. I whirled on the man I loved, grabbing him by the throat. I got my gun back and turned it on him. He shook his head, rubbing his neck.

    “You killed him,” I reminded him. I took aim for his head, my hands shaking.

    “I killed him before he killed you! You’re on a bad trip right now, Jimmy. Grab his wallet and let’s go before we get arrested.”

    “No! He owes me!” I pressed the trigger but Aaron moved. “Bastard!”

    I aimed again. Aaron stared me down. Fear swam in his eyes. I pressed the trigger, seeing nothing but revenge for my boyfriend killing the man who owed me money. The trigger clicked uselessly. I sank to the frozen ground, sirens blaring in the distance. Aaron grabbed my gun, then pulled me into a hug. Defeated, I grabbed the dead man’s wallet and ran. There would always be another chance.

    @Aightball
    244 words

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    Replies
    1. Fast paced and tense. Shooting at the boyfriend motivation doesn't appear strong in this snippet. Information weaved in well for an action packed scene.

      Delete
  6. “Nemesis.” Her name left my mouth as the barest murmur, but Nemesis heard all; from the greatest roars to thoughts held in the darkest corners of souls.

    She rose and faced me, a faint smile turning her mouth. The gentle curve reached along her cheeks, touching the corners of her eyes.

    “It’s been too long, Eros. Centuries, if I’m not mistaken.” Arms outstretched, she took my hands, leaning in to kiss me lightly. “But I know why you’ve come at last.”

    “Do you?” I exhaled a slow breath. “Then you are a step ahead of me. I am not sure what I expect from you.”

    Justice. Revenge. Righting a wrong buried so deep within me I couldn’t be sure it was real.

    I expected you to seek retribution. Long ago. I expected you to fight.” Her cool gray eyes assessed me, her head canting from left to right.

    “I don’t remember.” I freed my hands, drove them through my hair. “I don’t remember a damned thing. Or maybe I do. But it’s twisted up and I can’t make sense of her.”

    “Her?”

    Her? No. There was no her. “It. I can’t make sense of it. Hades take them all who broke my mind. My memories.” My heart.

    She heard my every thought. “There’s no revenge sweet enough to ease your bitter heart.”

    “I don’t need revenge.”

    “What, then?”

    “I need to right what’s gone wrong.” I tapped my head, then my chest. “Inside of me.”

    “Then I can help you.”

    @caramichaels
    250 lovely WIP words

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This is riveting and beautifully worded. Definitely hooked me.

      Delete
    2. This is riveting and beautifully worded. Definitely hooked me.

      Delete
  7. Knights

    The screams of the dying echoed off the dead. Pieces of men strewn along the cobbled roads rotted in the scorching sun. Remnants of armor and weaponry littered the grounds. Thousands of Hospitalers and Templars slaughtered en masse.

    Three noble knights surveyed the scene from atop their powerful steeds, man and beast radiantly illuminated by the sunlight on their golden plated armor. One by one, they dismounted and investigated the wounded.

    “For what cause do you lay dying, my brother?”

    “The cross, my Lord. Don’t let us die in vain. Avenge us!”

    “No, my brother. For those who die for the cross, there’s no revenge.”

    Hours later, the agonized screams were silent. The three knights smeared the blood on their armor and galloped off.

    In the early dawn, the Ottomans sounded the alarm. Three silhouettes approached from the distance, and more were sure to follow. The Turks formed their ranks, tens of thousands sprawled across the desert plain. The three knights drew closer and closer, though no one followed.

    “Where is their army?” The Ottoman commanders were puzzled. “Three knights against the mightiest army on earth??”

    The general studied the three figures through the looking glass for several minutes, before dropping to his knees. “Oh no. No no no.”

    “What is it? What did you see?”

    The general was ashen and silent. He took out a small dagger and slit his throat.

    Hours later, swarms of buzzards and birds of all kinds descended on the feast.

    Not a soul survived.

    250 revenge-free words
    @ducknado

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    1. This captures the attention quickly, but it is distanced by the omniscient point of view. Has the feel of a tale from the Arabian Nights.

      Delete
  8. What on the goddess's green earth was she thinking? Surely Mistress Moon was mistaken. This could not be the one. Kissed by the sun, caressed by the breeze, the man dozed in peaceful repose upon the bench. Ruby crept closer, the dagger curled into her sweaty fist. She steeled her resolve; her task to kill this man. He'd wronged her mistress. Most personally. Mistress Moon lured him to this place so Ruby could accomplish the deed. She stood next to the bench, blade raised.

    He rolled over, opened his eyes. Gods, he wore nothing but a smile and a tattoo.

    "Hello, sweetheart. I've been waiting for you."

    Jade eyes peeked at her from between lush lashes. She gulped, steadied her nerves, prepared to plunge the dagger into his heart.

    "You mean to kill me?" He didn't seem afraid.

    She nodded, inhaled, hand raised higher.

    "Give us a kiss goodbye, then?"

    "I'm sorry. I must do this. You wronged my mistress." Her hand trembled.

    "There's no revenge. Not here." Warm fingers circled her wrist. She dropped the knife. "Here is only desire."

    "Desire?" Her voice squeaked. "You desire me?"

    He guided her hand to his cock. "Is it not obvious?"

    She was in so much trouble now. His lips covered her but she managed to whisper, "Who are you?"

    "Just a man, love." He cupped her breast then deepened the kiss, leaving her breathless.

    "Please? I must know your name."

    "The King's Seducer," he said with a glint in his eye.


    250 words for fun
    @SilverJames_

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    Replies
    1. Very nice, Silver. I see Ariel has been talking to you again. :D

      Delete
    2. Dude, the fae won't shut up! ;) Give him a blog for a day and he thinks he rules the web. *rolls eyes* I swear he's gonna get his some day and I'm gonna laugh my arse off when he does! *bwahaha*

      Delete
    3. Great character development in such a short piece. There is strong voice in this and it makes the reader want to know more about these two.

      Delete
  9. I pulled the berry pie from the oven and sat it on the counter.

    “There’s nothing better than a homemade pie,” Gerard would say. He loved all my pies, lemon meringue, chocolate and coconut cream, but the berry ones were his favorite.

    I cleaned the kitchen up, putting everything back into place. Gerard liked things tidy and I did the best I could but when it wasn’t enough, Gerard would let me know.

    I hurried through my shower, sure that he would be home before long. I combed my hair, covered up the day old bruises around my eye, and put on his favorite dress.

    He came in and sat down at the table without so much as looking in my direction. I twirled around as I kissed him on the cheek but his eye was on the pie. His face smelled of beer and her sex, he never bothered to wash, he didn't think I noticed, that I was too stupid or naive.

    He was wrong on both counts.

    Gerard grabbed a slice without saying hello and muttered, “Bout time you did something.” I laughed, grabbed him a fork then sat down to watch him eat.

    He finished the first piece and was half way through the second when he started to choke. His eyes filled with surprise as he spit out the rest of the belladonna berries, knowing it was too late.

    I giggled, “There’s no revenge like homemade, Gerry!”

    I don’t think he ever heard me.


    249 words
    @AuthorCAKeane

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    Replies
    1. Wow, what a great surprise. Connected the reader to her plight and then provided the solution. Last line understatement is excellent.

      Delete
  10. Standing just inside the penthouse door, Daisuke’s stocking toes kneaded the carpet uncertainly. She hadn’t turned any lights on. Did she want him to come in or not? She had invited him here.

    Even the vague silhouettes looked expensive. The outlandish rumors about the new girl barely scratched the surface this time. Even Daisuke’s previous estimate seemed woefully inadequate. He was in the home of a legend!

    She stepped into the sliver of moonlight and let her hair down in glorious golden cascade. She reached for something in the darkness, and then half filled a broad crystal chalice.

    “Drink?”

    Her terse voice left him questioning whether to come in or not. He was starting to wonder if he should have taken off his shoes.

    “Ah, no… I’m under age. Actually, so is your cover identity. You… might not want to do that in public?”

    The Dark Hunter scoffed and took a gulp of wine.

    “You think your peers aren’t drinking?”

    “Well, none of my friends…”

    “Yeah. You do run with a pretty tame crowd.”

    Anastasia sat down; melting into one of the silhouettes Daisuke now took to be a chair.

    “Is, it true? Did demons kill your family? Is that why you hunt them? For revenge?”

    Daisuke bit his lip, praying he hadn’t offended the scythe wielding badass. He just had to know.

    “Revenge?” Anastasia laughed, “There’s no revenge. You think killing can bring back people we’ve lost? No, I hunt demons as penance. For my part in what happened.”


    250 words
    @DavidALudwig

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    Replies
    1. Good hook at the end. Dialogue without tags made it difficult to know who said what, but the snippet definitely causes Anastasia to grab the reader.

      Delete
  11. Kenny glared, “I hate that bastard!” Kenny clenched his fists and jaw, and shook his head, “You know why!”

    “Because Becky married him instead of you?” I shook my head. “Because she had his son, and not yours?”

    Kenny stood there, glaring. I swear he could have chewed on a handful of roofing nails, even though they’d have punched holes in his lips, cheeks and gums, and stuck in his tongue. I knew he wouldn’t have cared.

    “Because he went with her to all her cancer treatments, and all that chemo shit?”

    Sometimes, Kenny wasn’t so smart.

    “Can you change one damn thing that happened?”

    I felt his anger start to focus on me. The hair on the back of my neck raised like the hair on the back of a cat trapped in a corner.

    “What? You want to go to prison? Maybe the chair?” I walked right up to him. Eye-to-eye. I let my frustration and anger out. “You want Kay to wonder why you married her if you didn’t love her? You want your girls to grow up without a dad? You want to throw away your whole damn life, just because of him?”

    I stared into his eyes. His stupid, angry eyes. And watched the lights turn back on in them.

    “You gotta learn. There’s no revenge. There’s just Kay. And Lilly. And Chrissy. You gotta learn to not let him get to you.”

    238 Words
    @LurchMunster

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    Replies
    1. Motivation for the emotional reaction appears out of proportion based on length of time passed. Conflict seems to be resolved at the end. The narrator is the interesting character here.

      Delete
  12. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thank you to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to see you next week. :)

    ReplyDelete

Comments are on moderation, so they'll become visible once I've read them. Words, words, words. I love them. Have you a few to lend?

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