Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. Did you miss it? Well, it's Thursday again, so what should you be doing? Writing #FlashFiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 28 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 28:
The multi-published, paranormal and romantic suspense author, CR Moss.
The Prompt:
"She was pregnant."
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! :)
She was pregnant when the Nightmare Times began. Everything was normal and then…it wasn’t. She had been so excited to have her first baby, even if David had left her for the bleached blonde bimbo downtown. He left her as soon as she told him about the baby, not wanting the responsibility of a new life that he claimed he’d had nothing to do with. They both knew that wasn’t true, but it gave him the excuse he needed. She hadn’t protested or fought him. She had simply let him go, not feeling much of anything except joy at the heart that beat beneath her own.
ReplyDeleteShe woke up one day about a month after David left and stretched as she looked out the window. She blinked. Darkness, thick and vile, hovered outside the glass pane. Her breath caught in her throat. Not again. Not now. After so many years, how had it found her again? A muffled thump against the window made her whimper. A clawed hand stretched out of the black and scrabbled at the barrier. A leering red-eyed face peered into the apartment. Deep inside her mind, she heard the whispered hiss. “Miiiiiine.”
“No!”
Scratch, scratch. “MIIIIIIIIINE.”
She knew it would keep trying to get into both the room and her mind. She wouldn’t let it happen again. She was stronger now, and she had a baby to protect. She stood straight and faced the Demon, knowing this was the first of many battles to be fought.
250 words
@Angelique_Rider
The sheets clung to her like second skin. She sank deeper into the nightmare. Strange hands covered her. They were more like frog’s feet in appearance. A bright lamp swung over her head, so bright she couldn’t see beyond its halo.
ReplyDeletePain seared her lower abdomen, making her scream. Her ears rang in the following silence. The hands again, up, down, and over every part of her body. She tried to push them away, only to find her limbs were paralyzed.
Darkness enveloped her on all sides. Blissful nothingness washed over her, starting at her toes and working its way to the top of her head.
The sun broke through the blinds and tickled her eyelids. She awoke to find herself naked and groggy. Trying to sit up, nausea overwhelmed her. She bolted to the bathroom and barely made it in time. As she stood brushing her teeth, her legs trembled with weakness. The toothbrush fell into the sink when her knees buckled. The cool tiles felt oddly soothing. She rolled to her back and counted the ceiling tiles until the shaking stopped.
The pain in her abdomen turned into a rolling boil. She placed her hands on it and confusion swept over her in one rushing moment. She scrambled to her feet to find the test kit she kept hidden under a stack of towels. The one-minute wait seemed to take forever. Looking at the plus sign bleed into the tiny window, she couldn’t believe she was pregnant.
@Toni1777
249 Words
Majestic Distress
ReplyDeleteHer Imperial Majesty, Queen Isabella Margarita Feliniella Espinoza di Calico y Tabby sat her throne uncomfortably. Her sleep had been fitful, interrupted by an embarrassingly-frequent need to seek out the royal privy. To her distaste, she’d scooped the regal litter box herself, lest it become the stuff of palace gossip.
The wriggling of the rodent she held gingerly in one paw roused her. She’d awoken ravenous and ordered up an entire tureen of field mice. Her desire for them, however, waned before she’d finished even the first one. What was wrong with her?
“Taught you better did I then to play with your food, Your Queenliness. Eats it or lets it go, says I.”
The queen yowled in surprise. Madame Sealpoint, again, demonstrated her uncanny ability to seemingly appear from nowhere. Isabella loved the grizzled wretch but was loathe to admit it. Still, the old fossil possessed great knowledge and could be trusted to be discreet.
“Damn you, Sealpoint! Sneak up on me like that again and you shall be a head shorter by nightfall, I swear. I’ve summoned you because – “
“My queen she feels odd, I know. Little is unknown to this humble one. I knowed of an instant my beloved Izzy, she was pregnant. Kittens she will have very soon. A princess would be welcome to this ancient one. What you are thinking of Antonia for name?”
Her query went unanswered as the startled queen chose that moment to vomit spectacularly into the tureen next to her.
250 Words @klingorengi
Cassie hated visiting the morgue. It was a constant reminder of all the times she’d failed as a cop. She’d become a clean-up crew, the after-effect of someone else’s horrific crime.
ReplyDeleteBut today had to be the worst.
She and Jack had come to visit the ME about the death of a child.
The scent of preservatives and antiseptic hit her nose hard enough to make her eyes tear as they crossed the threshold into the sterile room with pale lime green walls. She knew it was meant to be soothing, but it only reminded her of her failure.
“Welcome, Detective Tucker. Thanks for coming so quickly.”
“What have you got, Martini?” Cassie had always found the woman’s name amusing, but it failed to lighten her mood today.
“Turns out she’s one of your missing persons.” Martini drew back the sheet on a small body. Heavy smeared makeup covered the face above the slit throat. “Sheryl Whitley, twelve years old as of last week, and no longer a virgin.”
Jack swore at Cassie’s side. “She’s another one of his, isn’t she?”
Cassie swallowed hard. “Most likely.
“Cause of death was exsanguination from the carotid arteries on both sides, but that was only after her assailant beat her soundly with some sort of instrument, like a cane or bat, and had intercourse with her.”
“Fuck.” Jack’s despair filled the room.
“It gets worse.”
“How can it get any worse?”
The ME’s expression flattened. “She was pregnant.”
245 ineligible #WIP500 words
@SiobhanMuir
She was pregnant, and then she wasn't.
ReplyDeleteHe was a baby, and then he wasn't.
We were a family, and then we weren't.
They were alive, and then they weren't.
Time-slip is like that, and I was getting all too used to it.
First you disconnect from day-to-day, then week-to-week, month-to-month, year-to-year, lifetime-to-lifetime.
If you care, it will kill you. So you don't, and it doesn't, and you fly into the future, unmoored and impassive, the prow of your own ship breaking the waves of time.
#100
@etcet
“She’d said she was pregnant,” I recalled as I stood under the hot water streaming from the shower head.
ReplyDeleteShe’d just blurted it out, like it was no big deal.
No big deal that all of my hopes and dreams for her future were over.
No big deal that the plans her father and I had made would have to be put on hold.
She’s only seventeen, and now she was pregnant.
All of the talks we had about safe sex forgotten…
I couldn’t help back but think back to the nights she came in past curfew, or the day her father and I went to San Diego on a daytrip and left her alone… Did it happen then?
She said that she wanted to keep the baby, but that the boy who’d fathered it did not. That meant she would not be moving out and going to school in the fall. That meant she would be staying home and we would need to help her raise the baby. That meant the plans Frank and I had to travel the world would be put on hold indefinitely.
It meant I would be raising a baby. At fifty years old, after raising three children, I would be starting all over.
I couldn’t stop the tears that fell, intermingling with the water that dripped down from my hair.
I felt angry, frustrated, and very sad… but deep down at the bottom of all those sorrowful feelings, I felt a glimmer of happiness.
250 words
@BethanyLopez2
False Positive
ReplyDeleteBy Lisa McCourt Hollar
Sheila stared at the test results, her mind refusing to comprehend what she saw. There were two marks. One was the control, just a simple line that showed the test was working, the other was a plus sign. She was pregnant.
“It’s wrong, it has to be.” Jameson handed her the stick back, refusing to even look at it.
“It’s not wrong. Look at the control box. It’s working. And you can’t deny that…I’m changing.”
Sheila’s breasts had swelled. They were painful too, sensitive to the slightest touch. When Jameson had grasped them the night before, she’d screamed out in pain.
“You can’t be pregnant,” Jameson repeated.
“And I’ve been getting sick every morning.”
“Sheila, it’s impossible.”
“Then how do you explain the movement I feel inside my belly?”
Jameson laughed, “Even if you were pregnant, it’s too early for you to feel anything. You’ve convinced yourself of it, so your body is reacting. It’s called Pseudocyesis…false pregnancy.”
“But what if I am?”
“For heaven’s sake Sheila, it’s fucking impossible. You’re dead…I’m dead. What part of being a vampire don’t you understand? The dead cannot give birth to life. It. Is. Impossible.”
“There! See?” Sheila took Jameson’s hand and brought it to her stomach. He shook his head, wondering how long his wife would hold onto this delusion. Something pushed against him. “What the….” Jameson looked at Sheila, shocked.
“You felt it?”
“How can this be?”
Sheila shook her head, “I don’t know, but it’s growing fast.
Word Count: 247
@jezri1
“So you won the Lottery?” Jax’s day couldn’t get any better.
ReplyDeleteLia wrung her hands, pacing her austere quarters. “No, I’m… already pregnant.”
He was confused. The Cloister only allowed reproduction by Lottery. But she was pregnant. How? Something inside him began to tremble.
“You’re sure?”
“The doctor told me in strictest confidence, but medical records cannot be hidden for long.” Fear drove the words out in a rush. “What will They do to me?”
Her terror tore at his heart. He cradled her in his arms, unable to voice what he knew – that they’d come for her, and rip the baby out. Maybe kill them both just to be sure.
“Any chance it’s not my seed?” His throat tightened at the thought, though exclusivity was discouraged.
Exclusivity bred attachment which led to the ultimate evil – Love. They were taught that Love started the Final War, making the Earth unlivable. So the Cloisters were built to make sure it never happened again.
She shook her head in silence.
“So it’s really…” Dare he say the word? “Mine?”
“It’s yours.”
He kissed her then, joy filling his whole body. His hand gravitated toward her still-flat abdomen seeking evidence of the miracle he had never dreamed possible, evidence of their love.
“It’s time to go.” He grabbed a backpack from the closet.
“Go? Go where?” She sobbed on the verge of hysterical. “There’s nothing beyond the wall.”
Jax smiled. He’d been Outside. He had only come back for her.
247 words
oh sorry
Delete247 words
@Rowanwolf66
Im 50 shades of confused today... doh!
Origins
ReplyDeleteShe was pregnant when she left me, no note, no trail. Josette had been good at covering things up, but she’d slipped at the end. That’s how I knew she was carrying my child. I didn’t think she had it in her to run. My mistake.
I expected a daughter. Witches always have girls. There’s a bunch of lore about why, including prophecies warning of the First of Many – the male witch whose son would have a son who would have a son who breaks the world. Never had a male witch been born nor likely would.
My own mother had tried to pass me off as the First, but that wasn’t why I was special. Wasn’t the spells she fed me, either. It was the father who didn’t belong in this world who gave me my power, such as it is.
I use illusion to fool folks into seeing what they fear most. Demons are a big favorite – proof that most have never experienced the terror of meeting an angel. The cast-out are easier to face than God’s precious warriors, but not much.
The young man facing me wanted to see a demon, a monster, a foe. At first, I let him. Then he tried to banish me using his mother’s words. I barely kept from laughing at this terribly serious boy.
My boy.
My son.
The First.
I let him see the real me, so like him.
“No,” he prayed, but God does not hear aberrations like us.
250 words
@RRKovar
Kinslayer! That’s what they call me, and who am I to argue?
ReplyDeleteThey say the truth hurts. Perhaps it does, but sometimes the truth is the only thing that can set us free. Regret can be a heavy burden, and no amount of atonement can wash the stain from your soul until you embrace that regret.
Take it all in and make it part of you.
I had to make peace with what I’d done. There wasn’t any other option, for tomorrow the hangman’s rope awaits me.
How did I get here?
Well the paths are long and winding, but it involved a girl. Doesn’t it always?
I met her, at the height of winter, a lonely waif from the streets. I took her in, gave her a home, put a roof over her head, clothed her, fed her, and kept her safe. In return she shared my bed. Not every night, but often, and as the winter snows melted into spring she had become precious to me.
If only she’d felt the same.
I cannot forget the night I walked in on them. The girl and my brother in my bed, their naked bodies writhing together as they coupled. The smell of sweat and sex was so strong it overwhelmed me. Incandescent with rage, I beat them both bloody.
I didn’t know she was pregnant.
Perhaps knowing would have stopped me, perhaps not. No matter, by morning it will all be over.
243 Words
@GZidar
“Why the long face?” I probed wondering why my roommate Cara looked like she was about to cry.
ReplyDelete“You haven’t heard?” Cara queried
“Heard what? Did someone die?” I solicited.
“Yes Princess Emmeline’s baby.” Cara responded.
“Baby? Oh for Pete’s sake do you believe everything they tell you?” I replied annoyed.
“Are you insinuating that she wasn’t pregnant?” Cara questioned.
“She was pregnant but it wasn’t a baby she was carrying.” I answered. ”She had this.”
“What is that thing? It can’t be a real egg.”
“It’s a real egg from the Princess. She gave “Birth” to this thing.”
“You are telling me, she laboured to bring an unhatched egg into the world and they told everyone she lost a baby? What a wild story.” Cara replied laughing.
“You think that’s a wild story? What do you think would have happened if they hadn’t removed the egg by c-section?” I enquired.
“Are you saying it would have hatched in her?” Cara demanded.
“Yes and a Dragon would have ate itself out of her belly.” I explained.
“Then what will happen when it hatches here?”
“It will demand its dinner but don’t worry I’m ready.” I clarified.
“What’s that cracking noise?”
“The egg is breaking get out of my way.” I demanded.
The dragon head appeared imprinting itself on me. Pointing at Cara, in one bite it devoured her. The only thing I was worried about now, was finding its breakfast. Hopefully my other roommate would be home by then.
@249 words
@SweetSheil
The line for gynecological exams stretched out the door and nearly around the government facility. I shouldn’t have waited until the end of the month to go. But there’d been a scare, and I hadn’t dared come in when I didn’t know for sure. I might have failed the all-important question on the polygraph: Have you been pregnant or are you pregnant now?
ReplyDeleteUnauthorized pregnancy was strictly outlawed and the Genome Cleansing Project examiners tended to jail and sterilize first, ask questions later. As an approved breeder, I didn’t want to lose my chance to have a child.
The line plodded along, testing stamina and patience.
My stomach rumbled and the midday heat left me groggy. Making it into the air conditioned shade made me almost giddy with relief. I got to the check in desk and swiped my ID card. A robotic voice read my name and a retinal scanner adjusted to my documented height. A grid of blue light mapped my eye and confirmed my identity.
“Cutting it close this month, Mrs. Jenkins,” the receptionist said.
I huffed. “You’re not kidding. It’s been crazy at work.”
A rote excuse that had become rote for a reason, namely that it worked.
“I hear ya,” she said. “Have a seat and a drone will call you back shortly.”
A sharp scream cut off my intended reply. “What was that?”
“Another lawbreaker.” The receptionist sighed. “She was pregnant. Repeat offender.”
“Oh.”
“Not to worry, Mrs. Jenkins,” she said. “She’s been terminated.”
@caramichaels
250 words
The body lay in perfect repose, the gauzy red fabric draping over top. Whoever had placed the body made sure the make-up and hair was perfect, manicured fingers folded atop each other on her stomach. Incense burners worked at pushing out the scented smoke, giving the room a hazy look. There were gifts around the alter. Flowers, fruit, bits of silver coin.
ReplyDelete“They take this seriously.” Marvin muttered to his companion, watching as an elderly man stepped through the doorway, holding out a platter that held a golden cup, liquid sloshing back and forth against the sides. “Wine?”
“Blood.” Jenkins folded his arms, watching. The light reflected off his lenses as he lowered his chin. “To entice the senses for when she wakes up. They found out she was pregnant. Did they tell you that?”
Marvin gave him a startled look as his head shook side to side. “But…why did they do it then?”
“Supposedly, the child will come back blessed. It was the sacrifice.”
The other man gave another shake of his head. “How can a mother allow that to happen. That’s just-just horrible.”
“Different culture. They see some of ours as the same.”
The old man put the cup down and bowed to the form before going out, nodding to them as the door was closed, sealing them in with the deceased woman.
“Now what, sir?”
“Now we wait and see if she wakes up at all and that she doesn’t dine on the people in the village.
250 words
@solimond
To Naomi, her mother was the most beautiful woman in the universe. Her hair held the golden radiance of life-giving stars, and her eyes were the blue of great oceans of nurturing water. Naomi’s own green hair and eyes were a natural expression of her mother’s creative magnificence.
ReplyDeleteShe was strong too. The star elf protected her daughter from entire worlds of people who didn’t want Naomi to grow up. Her mother even hid her safely away whenever her father managed to find them.
After her father was gone, her mother’s bruises would fade and the swelling would subside. It took longer, but any bones he broke would heal with time as well. Lately Naomi had mastered a degree of healing magic that sped her mother’s recovery greatly.
This time was different. Naomi tried and tried to heal her mother like she had before, but nothing she could do restored her protector’s energy. No trace remained of broken flesh or tortured form, and yet her father’s mark persisted in ways unseen. These days her mother was often sick in the mornings, and fatigued throughout the day.
She was pregnant.
189 words
@DavidALudwig
Cassie bent over to pick up the deposit her old, black Schnauzer, Jake, had left on the sidewalk. She let out a small murmur of disgust when she felt the heat reach her fingertips through the thin plastic.
ReplyDeleteJake perked his ears as if he were noticing something interesting behind her.
“Cassie?”
She whirled around, doggie bag dangling in hand to see his Thomas Shea’s magnificence striding toward her in even step with his miniature Yorkie, Jezebel, who had belonged to his late mother.
“Hi Tom,” Cassie managed after swallowing hard.
The dogs greeted each other affectionately, and Jake immediately set to sniffing Jezebel’s backside.
“Jake, stop it,” Cassie urged him away, not wanting a repeat performance of the mounting demonstration that he had somehow managed the last time she was lost in conversation with Thomas. “It’s ok, I think he’s too old for anything to work anymore.”
“Well, Cassie, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. It appears that you and I are going to be spending some time together soon.”
“Oh?” She inquired.
“It seems, well, the vet told me she was pregnant.” He nodded down at Jezebel who seemed to be smiling, if dogs could smile.
Cassie stared at him wide eyed. “I don’t understand. How could this have happened? Jake was only on her for a minute!”
“Do you need me to give you a personal demonstration?” He laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. “Apparently you can, in fact, teach an old dog new tricks.”
250 words
@KayPhoenix_
Bwahahahaha! I love it, Kay! :D
DeleteFrom the moment she laid eyes on him, she was pregnant with hope. He hadn’t rushed nervously past as the others did, night after night; instead, he’d doffed his hat and muttered “Ma’am,” like she was a real lady.
ReplyDeleteThat was it, just that one tiny moment, and in a blink he’d passed her alley and gone on his way. Oh, but she feasted on that moment like it was a Thanksgiving ham with all the trimmings—a whole month’s worth of chewing, that moment, a whole month, with some stashed in the freezer for later.
“He called me ma’am,” she gushed to the darkness. The darkness nodded silently and sympathetically, as it always did.
“Ma’am! Like I was somebody!” she giggled to the rats, who twitched their whiskers at her, moderately impressed, before returning to nosing through the trash.
He didn’t come by again, not for weeks and weeks, but she didn’t mind. He’d noticed her; he’d spoken to her.
She caressed the gossamer thread gently—yes! it pulsed faintly, shyly, but that was enough—, and her yellow eyes glowed with happy certainty.
He’d be back.
188 words
@postupak
#ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thank you to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to see you next week. :)
ReplyDelete