Tag: Flash Fiction

100 Word Story – Approach

Something was behind me, I could feel its hot breath hitting the back of my neck as it groaned. Its cold, clammy hand rested on my shoulder, I could feel a faint, irregular heartbeat coming from the palm. We both stood still for a moment. From my years of traveling I easily recognized the sensation, so I was rather surprised when the thing didn’t make an attempt on my life.

I didn’t bother turning around when I spoke, “What do you want, you living undead?”

When it spoke its voice was raspy and struggled forming words, “C-C-Come with me, S-Silvana.”


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100 Word Story – News

A real reporter would never do what I am about to do. My journalistic integrity is completely in question by doing this, but my morals are telling me to take this as far as possible—the desire to make the most out of this situation and prolong it as much as possible.

“Please, please, just let me go! I-I swear I won’t tell the police!” he cried. He shook his arms with ferocity, begging for me to remove the shackles.

I brought the axe over my head, lining up the shadow with his leg, “Not yet. You’re my money maker.”


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100 Word Story – Ghostly Investigation

I had just four days remaining, and I’ve barely made any progress since the last update. Nakamura went away on his business trip, but he left behind a few noteworthy places that I could float around for more clues. The only bad part is now I have to possess somebody entirely different—a complete stranger.

“Fuck.”

Just the thought of it made me feel guilty about my newly acquired talents. I’ve taken possession of Nakamura only three times, but he was willing to do it. But regardless, I had to do it.

I needed to find out who killed me.


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100 Word Story – One-Sided Love

It wasn’t meant to be. He was such a loving and caring man, making sure that all of my needs were satisfied whether it was buying minor trinkets of affection, performing small deeds to make me happy, or just constantly professing his affection. Honestly, it wasn’t enough.

I wanted to see how his anger could take control.

He would always walk out of the room and start screaming at the top of his lungs whenever he’d get too heated about a topic. Little did he know that I would intentionally bring up certain topics to see his cheeks flush red.


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100 Word Story – Power Tools

We were finally done—Marcel took off his face mask. There was a fine line between where the splatter reached his face and how everything just below his nose was still untouched. His eyes looked at the massacre on the table then at me.

His hands were still shaking violently even after dropping the buzz saw, “Okay, it’s your turn. Go get the bag and clean up.”

My body was stuck on the other side of the room, refusing to move. I kept shaking my head, tears flooding out of my eyes.

“We just chopped up a guy’s dead body!”


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100 Word Story – Flying High

The flight was terrible—everything was terrible. The flight attendants were constantly screaming their lungs out, the passengers wouldn’t follow instructions I gave them, the pilot lost a damn eye, it was crazy. I even had to put a bullet through this one guy’s head because he tried to act all tough shit.

Then, I had to get a new pair of sneakers once this plane got to where I needed it. I really liked them; they had a small snowman design on the sides. Now they looked like bloody snowmen.

I’m never going to try robbing a plane again.


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Bathtub [18+]

“Kuru-min! Could you come here for a second?”

I could hear Mrs. Kurosawa calling me from the upstairs bathroom. But, isn’t she taking a bath though? What could she possibly need me for? I folded the corner of my page and put the book on the couch, “Coming.”

I put my slippers on and took my time heading through the living room and up the stairs to the second floor. When I reach the top step there was a vanishing trail of steam leading me to the bathroom as if I didn’t know where it was. Right around the corner of the stairs I could see the hazy light of the bathroom peering through the cracked door.

I knocked on the door but didn’t enter yet, “Mrs. Kurosawa, did you need something?”

Swishing water sounds as Mrs. Kurosawa answered, “Yes. I forgot to get my towel from the bedroom. Would you mind going in and getting it for me?”

“Sure. Which color is it?”

“Green.”

I walk past the bathroom door and head to the last door straight down the hallway. I gently pushed the door open, the aged latches squeaking. This was easily the largest room in the entire house, aside from the living room area. There was a king-sized bed at one end of the room, three mahogany dressers placed in different spots, and a small work desk right next to an open window. There were clothes scattered around on different pieces of furniture, which was the only thing that made the room look just a bit untidy.

It’s actually a bit funny—I’ve always saw Mrs. Kurosawa as a neat freak. She would always have her things in neat detail. She would eat carefully, making sure nothing felt from her plate and onto her clothes. There were times where I would walk in on her reorganizing her entire closet just because she bought something new and it threw off her current organized pattern.

But there’s a pair of jeans on the back of a chair, a mismatched sock or two thrown here and there, and a balled up pajama top left next to the bed. And while I was noticing every piece of clothing lying around, I saw the green towel draped over her television. I grabbed it and left the room, heading back to the bathroom door. I knocked on it again, letting her know I have it. She told me to come into the bathroom with it and close the door.

When I opened the door, a small cloud of steam quickly escapes past me, emptying the entire room of any fogginess. Straight ahead was the large bathtub, filled with water practically at the brim, but not spilling out onto the floor. And inside the tub was Mrs. Kurosawa, in her naked glory.

I couldn’t tell if it was the heat floating around in the air or if something was wrong with me, but I felt my cheeks igniting right on the spot.

“Where do you want me to put the towel?” I asked.

She had her head resting back against a small bath pillow, her hair wrapped up in a small cloth to keep from getting in the water. She turned to look at me with a smile and said, “You can leave it right on the edge of the sink. I won’t be in here long.”

“Okay. Do you need anything else while I’m still here?”

She thought for a moment, but shook her head. I nodded and turned to walk back out the bathroom. Before I could even reach out to the door knob, Mrs. Kurosawa called out my name again and I stopped

“Kurumi, can I ask you a personal question?”

100 Word Story – Change

She helped me a lot. There were days where I called her over for the most trivial things that I could easily do myself just so I could look at her. Through all of it she would have that warm, glowing smile on her face. Last time, she came by to help me prepare a new dish for dinner; she ended up cooking the entire thing.

After that night, I knew what kind of person I wanted to become: somebody others can rely on. But now, I’ll never get the chance to tell her that.

I already miss my sister.


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100 Word Story – One Shot

A gunshot. That’s all I heard. There was no screaming, no groaning, no cries of pain or suffering. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the sound of only a gunshot was the best solution to all of this. It would have only been a matter of time where we wouldn’t have a choice but to shoot him.

Andrea came back from around the corner, her head hanging low with a look of defeat. There was more blood on her jacket than before—some of it must have been Jared’s. She walked pass me without saying a word.


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100 Word Story – Plans

This was not what I hoped for. I played out this scenario countless time in my head, both while I was alone and whenever the gang got together to talk about the flaws. We planned out everything into the ground, at least a dozen times at a bare minimum.

We all knew our roles, which tools to have on us, and the entire layout of the bank like the back of our hands. We found out the shift rotation hours, we learned how to deal with hostages, everything.

But I never expected to see my own son as a hostage.


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100 Word Story – Finger

It was just a dare. That’s all it was suppose to be—nothing more, nothing less. We were all in agreement that even though this dare was a bit over-the-top, it was going to happen.

Rob stuck out his hand while Sylvia got a knife from the kitchen. I grabbed Rob’s hand and started the “Knife Game.” It started off slow and easy, just like it should. But once a minute passed and I picked up speed, that’s when the first finger came flying off.

And then the next, and the next, and the next. I couldn’t stop myself anymore.


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100 Word Story – Wander

That day, I was wandering around as usual through the body-packed city streets, seeing all of the different faces that I came across. Being in such a crowded place made getting around hectic, but I was able to navigate through pretty easily.

However, it was a bit too easy. I was sure that I bumped shoulders multiple times with others, but I didn’t feel any contact. Even the cars would seem to miss me when I wasn’t paying attention to the crosswalks.

It was as if nobody noticed me. It was like I was a ghost wandering in city limbo.


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