Thursday, October 4, 2012

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 41

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. It's Thursday again, so what should you be doing? Writing #FlashFiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 41 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 41:

The fabulous cook, mining geologist, and Transformers fan, George Varhalmi.

And now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“We find the ones who did this.”

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! :)


  1. Standing in a meeting room at Creighton University Medical Center, I regarded my instructor. “What do you want us to do?” John Monroe asked. “He’s a John Doe; he’s got six IDs on him. If he’s still alive in the morning I’ll be surprised. Move on.”

    “I can’t. There’s something about him, John.”

    The older man sighed, rubbing his face. “What can we do?”

    “We find the ones who did this.” I thought that was obvious.

    He paused, glancing at me. “Coby, that’s impossible. There were no security cameras outside that bar. And from the looks of things, this was done by drug dealers. I understand you want to get him justice, but I don’t think we can.”

    “As soon as he wakes up, I’m going to ask him who he knows that might have hurt him. He was raped and beaten and overdosed; someone is going to pay for this.”

    Turning, I stalked out of the meeting room, headed for ICU. John followed me, his footfalls echoing in the hallway behind me.

    “Coby, give it up. There’s nothing you can do.”

    Looking back for a moment, I frowned. “There is something I can do. I can sit there until he wakes up.”

    John shook his head, as we neared the elevators. “Just…don’t get attached, Coby, please.”

    “Too late.”

    With another sigh, he pressed the down button while I continued on to ICU; I was already attached and I wasn’t giving up.

    242 Words

  2. Becca awoke with the sun simmering through the blinds. The rays bubbled from heat as if dipped in boiling water. Perspiration beaded her upper lip.

    “Let me guess, the air conditioning is on the fritz again,” she said, trying to peel the sticky sheets from her legs. She swung them over the edge of the bed and felt around for her slippers.

    “Where are they?”

    Shelly, her roommate, came through the bedroom door carrying two coffees and a bag of bagels. Putting them on the table, she spoke to Becca over her shoulder, “I brought breakfast. I’m sorry I didn’t come home last night. I studied all night over at Joan’s. This chemistry final is going to be the death of me.”

    “No problem,” Becca said, stretching her arms above her head. “Why is it so hot in here?”

    “The electricity went off. Luckily, Joan had a battery powered lantern.”

    Turning to hand Becca a bagel, her mouth flew open.

    Seeing the startled look on Shelly’s face, Becca froze.


    “I think you’d better look in a mirror.”

    Becca looked into the bathroom mirror. In black marker, a cat’s features were drawn on her face. Three whiskers on each cheek, pointed eyebrows, and a marking on her nose completed the look. Taking soap, she scrubbed her face until it was raw.

    Walking out of the bathroom, she said, “Permanent marker.”

    “We find the ones who did this.”

    Becca grabbed a coffee. “You didn’t happen to get any milk, did you?”

    250 Words

  3. Moondance

    “What do we do now?” Sarah asked, watching as I applied pressure to the wound with a thick pad of gauze, willing the bleeding to stop.

    “Do?” I repeated, looking up at her in surprise. “We find the ones who did this. They will pay.” I shifted my fingers slightly to check that no blood was soaking through the gauze. Satisfied that the bleeding had at least slowed enough that it would be safe to continue, I seized a roll of white cotton bandages and began binding the injury tightly.

    “I’m not hurting you, am I?” I said anxiously, pausing briefly as I wound. “It’s not too tight?”

    Tobias shook his head, his eyes round and wide and shiny behind his round glasses. “I’m okay, Daddy.”

    I tied off the bandage, took my little son into my arms, and kissed his forehead lightly. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I assured him.

    Tobias looked up at me fearfully. “Am I gonna turn into a werewolf now, too, Daddy?”

    “I don’t know, Toby.” I held out an arm and enfolded Sarah in my embrace as well, holding my little family close—all I had left in the world. “I just don’t know.”

    200 words {not including title}

  4. Death Toll
    Bu Lisa McCourt Hollar

    Falling to her knees, Jenna turned her head towards the heavens and wailed. Around her, bodies covered the ground. Bending over her sister, she pulled the child into her arms. She’d only been five years old. A bullet through the back of the girl’s head told the story.

    Trenton put a hand on her shoulder, small comfort and he knew it.

    “They couldn’t even look her in the eye when they killed her,” she cried.

    Refusing to relinquish her sister, Jenna struggled to her feet, holding the girl close. Walking the room, she stopped at each body; her mother’s, her dress torn and hiked up, indicated what she had endured. Her father, a stake plunged through his heart, was nailed to the wall. His head had been decapitated. She had no doubt he’d been the first to die. The cowards wouldn’t have been brave enough to do what they had done if he’d been alive.

    She found Stefan in the dining room, minus his head. Her father’s head too could not be found.

    “Where do you suppose…”

    “They took them,” Jenna said. “to prove they’d finished the job.”

    “I’m sorry we did not get here faster.”

    “I’m sure if they had known I carry m father’s curse, they would have waited; their mistake.” Turning, Jenna carried her sister out the door.

    “What are you going to do now?”

    A tear rolling down her cheek, Jenna grimaced, revealing sharpened fangs. “Bury my family. Then we find the ones who did this.”

    Word Count: 250

  5. Sesame Street Apocalypse

    244 words

    The yellow feathers had traveled out of the city and into the suburbs. They landed in swimming pools, got caught in trees, dusted across driveways and gave family dogs something to snap at. Hair started showing up too, strands of red and brown and then purple and green. The children took note, and knew that something was amiss.

    Arranging themselves in Volvos, minivans and hybrids, the young families took to the city. They caravanned in, following the mysterious feathers and hair that continued to blow through the streets and clump on the sidewalks.

    Then, the alphabet letters and number blocks tumbled past the cars. The children frowned in their car seats, but did not hesitate to call out the letters. “G!” shouted one. “The letter of the day is X!” chirped another. Their mothers live tweeted.

    One by one, the family wagons turned onto Sesame Street. Engines idled and children wept. The mothers gasped while trying to cover the little faces that should never see what happens when an entire community is left to die. Elmo’s tricycle lay overturned. Zoe’s tutu in tatters. Oscar’s can…..well; you just don’t want to know.

    The dads emerged and smoothed their khakis, telling the women and the children to stay put.

    “We find the ones who did this,” said the alpha male, the one who hosted poker games and coached soccer.

    The kids cried and the mothers took the wheels while the fathers marched toward Romney Campaign Headquarters.

    1. is horribly awesome. It is tearing my heart out with its wonderful horrible truth. Thank you.

    2. :-) Thank you, Robin!! I couldn't resist...

  6. The Gift

    Merrilee came awake slowly, her head pounding, her mouth dry. She tried to sit up, but found she was bound tightly to a hard cot with a thin mattress. She tried to think how she might have gotten there, but her mind was blank. She blinked, and the room swam into focus. It was a small dingy room, with walls made of concrete. Turning her head slightly, she could see one tiny window high up in the far wall. No light shone through its pane at the moment. Looking the other way, she saw a table with a lit lamp and a straight-backed chair. The room was silent.

    She heard a door open behind her and strained to see who was entering her…well, she might as well think it…prison. In a moment, a blond man walked around to her side, smiling at her. He was very handsome and well-dressed. Gently he touched her cheek and she winced. Apparently she had a sore spot there. In fact, now that she was more awake, she felt sore all over, as if she’d been beaten.

    The man sighed rapturously, still stroking her face. “Such a beauty, even with bruises.” His voice was accented slightly. “When we find the ones who did this, we must thank them for the gift.”

    The man turned, calling behind him.

    “Kristoff…come see what Daddy has for you.”

    A giant shadow filled the room, and a growling voice said “Mine.”

    The man smiled as he listened to her scream.

    250 words {without title}

  7. The price of Beauty

    “When we find the ones who did this to you I am going to pin back their ears!” She scrubbed even harder at my tender feet and I hoped whatever ear pinning was, it really hurt.
    My mother was on a tear, and I had visions of her swooping down on the culprits with all the glory of an avenging angel.
    “It was Jimmy. Him ‘n Bobby.”
    She sighed. “You mean it was Jimmy and Bobby. A lady doesn't drawl when she speaks.”
    “Yes, Mother.”
    “That’s better.”
    She stopped scrubbing and assessed the progress she’d made. The skin of my feet was pink where it showed between the remaining globs of black tar. I looked like one of my little sister’s finger-paintings.
    “Now, how exactly did this happen?”
    “Jimmy said it was good for us, that it was a ladies beauty secret.”
    “I see.” She frowned and I knew I was on thin ice. “So you walked through fresh tar because you wanted pretty feet?”
    “Well not exactly.” She gave me that look. The one all mothers use when they run out of patience and I panicked.
    “I had to go through the tar to get Sissy. She was hiding from us.”
    “Sissy? And why was your little sister hiding?”
    “We were playing beauty parlor, and she didn't like the way the tar felt on her face.”
    As it turns out, my mother doesn't look like an avenging angel when she’s really mad. She looks just like the devil himself.

    250 words

  8. Split in Two

    Lavender was thick in the air stinging my sensitive nostrils. Crumbles of the flower littered the floor and I could hear a soft ballad coming from the bedroom. The lights were dimmed and I could hear my other half crave to be released.
    “No, shh.” I closed my eyes pushing back the urges.
    “We can’t smell her with all these pungent flowers… and candles.” My voiced deepened as Lukas spoke.
    “We don’t need to; we aren’t even hungry anyways.” I leaned on the hallway wall trying to compose myself.
    “Speak for yourself.” I choked and then growled as my fangs protruded. Control slipped for my fingers as I blurred into the open bedroom expecting a willing female eager for my particular type of attention.
    The bed was indented where her body used to lay but the room was empty aside from the soft piano playing from the stereo. A note sat on the bed reading: I’m waiting for you, love, Emily.
    “We can’t track her with all these scents lingering around. What do we do?”
    “We find the ones who did this. She was waiting for us…” I held my head trying to focus; Lukas was trying to take over my body.
    “Someone is trying to throw us off. She hates lavender.” Lukas twisted my mouth into a smirk. This was a game to him; it didn’t matter that Emily was our wife but if anyone could find her, it was him.

    242 words

  9. I looked around the room most of my family lay dead before me. Only my sister and I remained.
    “What are we going to do Aline?
    “We find the ones who did this, Edana and make them pay.”
    “But even if we find them, we are only two women how can we punish them”
    “We find out who! We wait in hiding and we train with swords and armour. Then we vanquish them.” I answered.
    The horde that killed our family was easily found but we were far from ready to take them on; so we began training. The swords we used at first were too heavy, so I had the blacksmith fashion lighter swords for us. He also fashioned Armour to protect us. He didn’t ask questions but only begged then when we went against the men that he too could come with us. He needed vengeance for his wife.
    Three months of training came down to today. The men that killed my family lay dead at our feet. Their death should feel like victory to me, instead it feels like ashes in my mouth. It did not bring back my family and Edana is changed. What price vengeance?
    200 words

  10. Captain Weir shut and locked the door, then sat in the empty chair between Shawn and Simon.

    “OK, guys, we find the ones who did this. Got it?”

    The two nodded, and Simon showed the Captain how to operate the computer. This was not going to be an easy task. They had eight hours of footage from twelve cameras to review, and hopefully one of them would allow them to identify the perpetrators.

    As they each scanned the footage at four times the speed of real-time, Simon asked, “We’re looking for someone who vandalized the butcher section, correct? We are looking at that part of the store?”

    “Yes,” confirmed Captain Weir.

    “What exactly did they do?” asked Shawn, increasing the speed on his video.

    “Oh, whoever broke in did a number on the meat department. Blood was everywhere. And all of the meat was gone. Either they had a huge truck, or they brought in a tiger or something.”

    They nodded, continuing to scan, when suddenly Simon uttered, “Woah, uh, I have something here.”

    Shawn and Captain Weir turned their attention to his monitor. In the foreground was a lone man wearing ragged clothing.

    “He must not be alone. No way one homeless guy could do this.”

    As the video progressed, another person appeared. The footage wasn’t clear, but she too was wearing filthy clothing. Then another, and a fourth, and a fifth.

    “I didn’t know we had that many homeless here.”

    “Guys, those people aren’t homeless. They’re, uh, dead.”

    250 words

  11. He didn’t want them to see it, not before school; it would really affect them, but he didn’t know how he was going to move it. He called his wife out to the front porch, and she cried out at the sight, covering her mouth with the tea towel in her hand.

    “Sshh! They mustn’t see it!”

    “Sorry.” She breathed through the cloth.

    “You have to help me move it though.”

    She looked at him, her mouth still covered, her eyes wide and beseeching. “I can’t touch it! Can’t we just cover it?”

    “But then they will see it.”

    “Can’t you just tell them it’s something you’re working on?”

    He pulled a face; that might work. He was always building something out front. “Okay, I’ll try and find a tarp.”

    “Are you going to call the police?”


    “So they find out who did this.”

    “No. We find the ones who did this ourselves.”

    “And then?”

    He grinned, and she suddenly felt sick. “I get to find out how well that wood saw cuts through flesh.”

    Before she could protest she heard the kids on the stairs and rushed back into the house.

    It would take too long to find a tarp so he grabbed the cover off the BBQ. He tried to place it gently over the body of their beloved Labrador. He didn’t want to disturb the protruding knives in its back; he counted four. If he was careful they might provide a clue to the perpetrators.

    249 Words

  12. Roar Of The Mouse

    He knew something bad had happened to his youthful companion but he’d scarce expected the news the search parties returned with. He refused to believe it until he’d seen the body himself but, once he had, there was no chance they were mistaken. Tuffy was as dead as a rodent could be.

    Jerry stood over the broken body and wept bitter tears for the senselessness of it. Was a single morsel of cheese worth the lad’s life? For naught more, his protégé had been killed. Jerry’s thoughts were fixed on how damned cute the kid had been… scampering about with such unbridled, youthful enthusiasm.

    With a sob, he reflected on how it was anything but cute to see the wee fellow with his neck snapped, eyes staring with disbelief that life could be snatched away from him just that quickly. The final indignity of it all was, in death, he’d fouled his diaper and the fetid aroma of feces and death hung thickly in the air.

    Jerry turned from the body, tears burned from his eyes by sheer, unbridled fury. He knew the others looked to him for answers, for a response.

    “What do we do? What do we do, you ask? We find the ones who did this and we make them pay. We make them pay with the same brutality they visited upon this innocent. We start with that bastard, Tom, and don’t stop until blood runs and this house is, once and forever, acknowledged our undisputed domain!”

    250 words @klingorengi

  13. ELVES

    “What happened here?” Aust’s eyes were saucer round.

    Felosial covered her mouth as tears spilled from her eyes, “Were, were we too late? We’ve never been too late before!”

    The building, all three floors of it, was still and silent. Children’s toys were arranged on neatly made beds, everything far too pristine to be lived in. This wasn’t the orphanage of sixty plus children they expected to find.

    “I’d heard rumors, but actually seeing it,” Ivellios gave a low whistle.

    “Humans did this?” Aust whispered, gesturing about them.

    All the commotion outside should have been a clue something was afoot. The trio’s innate sense of where they were needed had never steered them wrong before. Finding and quietly helping those in need was their specialty.

    After Ivellios’ confirming nod, Aust swallowed, “So then, what do we do?”

    “We find the ones who did this, and repay them in kind.”

    “Ivellios, where are all the children?” Felosial barely choked her words past her fountain of tears.

    “I, I think they’re at some local amusement. The humans call this, an ‘Extreme Makeover’.” Grateful tears streaming down his own face, the head elf nodded at the humans’ handiwork.

    195 words

  14. It was the dark of the moon, on the 6th of June. I was in a Kenworth. Hauling logs. She was in a T-bird, her daddy hadn’t taken it away. She screamed around me on the left, waving, and screaming, “Stop right there!” By the time I’d stopped, she was out of the T-bird, racing to the side of my truck. Screaming, “Help! I need somebody! Help! Help me!”

    So, I asked her, “What’s goin’ on? Ya, what’s goin’ on? Tell me what’s goin’ on.”

    “Someone set the pink elephants loose at the circus! They’re running wild in town! Help!”

    We raced back to her town, where we used the logs from my truck to herd the pink elephants back to the circus, where the clowns took over. They used rubber rats and mice to chase the elephants back to their cages.

    “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said, as she hugged me.

    But the clowns had to know, “What happened? How’d they get out?”

    T-bird girl spoke, “They were crying, ‘Set me free of the chains holding me. Is anybody out there hearing me? Set me free.’ Someone in a PeTA sweatshirt did.” She looked at the clowns. “What are you going to do now?”

    “We find the ones who did this, and we throw poisoned pidgins from the park at ‘em!”

    I looked at T-bird girl. “The party’s over. It’s time to go.”

    249 Words

    Sorry... I just couldn't resist this one...

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

  16. Interloper

    “How could you allow this to happen?” She was always yelling and gesturing.

    I flicked imaginary lint from my suit. “The girl was on the guest list, madam. We could hardly have barred her entry.”

    “Find someone to fire for it.”

    “Of course.” The rich are cavalier with other people’s lives and oh so distraught when there’s a tiny irritation in their own. Sometimes, I wonder why I bother with them at all. Although they do throw the most fabulous parties. “Is there anything else?”

    “She had to have help. That child could hardly have orchestrated such a complete scheme on her own. She utterly ruined the evening. I want you and your people to ferret out how.”

    “And what are we to do when we find the ones that did this?”

    “Don’t bother to tell our hosts. This is a family matter. My daughter deserves the future we have planned. I will give that little interloper the punishment she deserves, and anyone who helped her gets the same or worse.”

    “Yes, madam.”

    As she swooped out of the room, I flicked my fingers, opening the seam in her dress. Then I went to tell Cinder the gig was up.

    1. Dang, just a fraction too late. I thought I had a couple more minutes.


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