Friday Night Write – Slow Turning

/in , , /by

Violet snuck through the back door of a bar at the outskirts of a small Alabama town. The place looked like it could have once been a barn; there were still remnants of hay sprinkled outside. From the dark hallway by the restrooms, she could hear the muffled sound of upbeat music and shuffling feet. Peaking around the corner, at least thirty people were crammed on the floor dancing and swinging to an old song she didn’t recognize. The crowd was dressed in jeans and casual shirts, and nearly everyone wore cowboy boots. Shouts, laughter, and the occasional, yeehaw filled the barn-like atmosphere.

She had been on the run for months, and she just needed a place to lay low for a while. She would definitely not blend in here. She would draw far too much attention with her leather jacket, black hair, and studded wrist cuffs. She slowly backed up, hoping to sneak out the way she came, but her escape was hindered by an immovable object standing right behind her. Violet gasped as she turned and saw the one face she prayed she would never see again.

“You,” Violet whispered. The man grabbed her by the arms, rooting her in place.

“Did you think you could outrun me forever?” His sly voice said quietly, trying to keep their conversation from being overheard by the occasional passerby. He was tall with a slender face, dressed in a trench coat, the brim of his hat hiding his eyes.

“The thought crossed my mind.”

“Your feeble attempts to hurt them have caused no more damage than a fly buzzing around your face—a little annoying, but nothing a little swat won’t cure.”

“Then why have you been hunting me so tirelessly if I didn’t hit a nerve? They’re scared.”

“Hardly.”

“Admit it!” Violet yelled.

The man gave her a hard shake and lowered his face so he could look right in her eyes. “Enough! You’re coming with me. If I weren’t under strict orders to bring you back alive, I would dispose of you myself. But my employers want to poke and prod before ending you.”

“What do they want with me?”

“I’ll just say that they have an obsession, of sorts, with studying and then riding the world of mutants like you.

Fury bubbled beneath her skin as the familiar burning ran through her entire body, and congregated in her arms right where his hands gripped her. She was ready to release her deadly fire, ending the pyro-hunter’s life for good, but the flame no more than sparked when it was immediately snuffed out with a puff of smoke.

“What the heck?”

“Did I forget to mention…” the hunter said with a grin, “that I have my own unique abilities? Except mine is that I can reverse the effects of other mutants’ powers. So as long as you’re with me, no more flames…”

Violet gulped as he led her out the back door and into the dark night.

[hr]

This is my entry into the Friday Night Write weekly challenge at Sweet Banana Ink.

The Challenge:

  • 1 Song (this week’s song was Slow Turning by John Hiatt)
  • 60 Hours (Friday @ noon to Sunday @ midnight EST)
  • 500 Words

This is part of a series I’m writing. You can read more about Violet Blair here.

Five Sentence Fiction – Memories

/3 Comments/in , , /by

It was time—time to say goodbye to everything she loved, to everyone she knew, to every memory she ever held dear.

She had discovered too much, and now he was hunting her—the epitome of evil wrapped in human flesh.

Her only option for survival was to run, hide, forget all she knew, and hope he would never find her.

She took a deep breath as her savior, a man known as G, hooked her up to the machine that would take her memories.

Whispering her final goodbye, she closed her eyes, and waited for the moment she could reopen them to her new life.

[hr]

I wrote this to tie into my first novel, No Exit (more details on that coming soon.) So this is a little teaser for you.

Check out the Five Sentence Fiction weekly challenge created by Lillie McFerrin.

Five Sentence Fiction – Blush

/1 Comment/in , , /by

“You’ve been ignoring me for months, are you ever going to tell me what’s going on,” Eliza said after cornering Rowland.

“Ignore you… I could never ignore you, love.”

Eliza tried to keep up her furious facade, but her blushing cheeks betrayed her.

“You can’t keep leaving me in the dark like this; talk to me.”

“You remember Vick, the one who tried to kill you… well, he has a group of followers intent on fulfilling his mission.”

[hr]

This is a previous FSF prompt that I haven’t had a chance to post until now. Better late than never.

Check out the Five Sentence Fiction weekly challenge created by Lillie McFerrin.

This story is part of a series, The Transformation. You can read the rest of the story here.

Friday Night Write – St. Theresa

/1 Comment/in , , /by

20120903-114211.jpg

Julia sat on the windowsill in Carlo’s bedroom, gazing at the sparkling night skyline of New York City.
Carlo was asleep in his bed, unaware that she was there, or even alive.

He had fallen for the same rouse his former boss had. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Make them think she was dead, Carlo gets free from his life as an assassin, and everyone goes their merry way.

She had help from a man known as G. G had a professional interest in Carlo, and Julia needed G’s help. She assured G that Carlo would do anything to get revenge once she was “gone,” and G would have no problem recruiting him. And so their little alliance was formed. G supplied the drugs to slow her heart, the bullet proof vest, even fake blood to make it look like she had been shot. G could not understand why she would risk them shooting her in the head instead if the chest. But that’s love; sometimes you have to risk everything for that one person who becomes your entire world.

G paid off the coroner to lie on her death certificate, and then gathered her unconscious body before they buried her casket. As long as no one dug up her empty grave, everything would be fine.

Julia had to wait until she knew it was safe before confronting Carlo. She couldn’t do it yet because her “killers” might still be watching him. But she could not bear to see him in pain any longer. She had to at least let him know she was alive. That was why she visited him the other night, and why she was here now.

But the moon was high in the sky and she would need to leave soon. The thought sunk daggers in her chest. Reluctantly rising from her post by the window, she walked to his bed and watched her love sleeping peacefully. She desperately longed to hold him again–if just for a moment.

“Soon,” she quietly promised him–and herself.

Julia turned to his nightstand and re-read the letter he had so eloquently penned.

“I love you too,” she whispered as she wrote those eternal words at the bottom of the page.

~

This is my entry into the Friday Night Write weekly challenge at Sweet Banana Ink.

The Challenge:

  • 1 Song (this week’s song is St. Theresa by Joan Osborne)
  • 60 Hours (Friday @ noon to Sunday @ midnight EST)
  • 500 Words

This is part of a series I’m writing. You can read the rest of Carlo’s Story here.