Fair Warning- Friday Flash

A picture of the 2004 tsunami in Ao Nang, Krab...

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 By Melissa L. Webb

Cassie looked around her. Why was no one listening to her? Her warnings only seemed to fall on deaf ears. “You have to believe me. It’s coming,” she shouted at the people around her.

 “Don’t start this again,” her boyfriend said, looking up from the pizza he was making. He glanced nervously around at the customers staring at her. “Come on, Cass. You can’t come in here while I’m working and say things like that.”

 She looked at him, frustration plain on her face. “But, Ricky, I’m trying to save you.” She looked around the pizza parlor. “I’m trying to save all of you.”

Rick’s boss stepped out onto the floor and looked at his employee. “Do we have a problem here?”

He shook his head. “No. No, sir. Cassie worries a lot,” he said with a shrug. “It’s an O.C.D. thing.”

Cassie gasped, shocked at his words. “An O.C.D. thing? How many times am I right about things, Richard? How many?”

Sighing, Rick stopped what he was doing, wiping his hands on his apron. He walked over and took Cassie by the arm, leading her out the door and past the windows, avoiding the stares of the people inside.

“How many times have I been right?” she demanded when he stopped walking.

Looking down at her, he sighed. “Quite a few,” he admitted.

 “Then why won’t you listen to me now?”

A faint smile ghosted over his lips. “Because, Cassie, the earth will not tremble and the water will not rise up and claim this town today,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just not going to happen.”

“How do you know? How can you be so sure?” she questioned.

“Because,” he told her, weariness creeping through his words. “Not even you can foresee that, Cassie.”

She shook her head. “You’re just like the rest of them,” she said as she started to turn away from him.

 “Listen, Cass,” he said, placing a hand on her arm. “Even if something was to happen, the water can’t reach us here. We’d be safe.”

 She looked at him, tears in her eyes. “Not this time, Ricky.” She grabbed his hand, desperation in her eyes. “Come with me. Please. We can still make it if we hurry.”

He pulled his hand away. “Cassie…I can’t. I have to work,” he told her heading for the door. Suddenly he stopped and turned around. “I’ll call you later, okay?” he said before slipping into the pizza parlor.

 She watched him go; feeling as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest. “No, you won’t, Ricky. You won’t be calling anyone ever again,” she whispered heading back to the car.

Sliding behind the wheel, Cassie pulled out onto the street. She quickly made her way onto the highway and headed out of town. She could practically hear time counting down, like a steady ticking in her mind.

She pulled the car over at the lookout point outside of town. Here she would have a perfect view of the ocean and her town. Opening the car door she placed a foot on the ground just as the earth started to shake. She quickly sat down on the curb, holding onto the ground as it rolled under her.

 Tears began to flow as she gazed down upon her little town. She would be safe here but down below…the town would be decimated and that would be before the tsunami. The town would be wiped out of existence when it arrived.

The quivering below her stopped. Cassie stood up on shaky legs looking out to the sea. The water’s edge was slowly retreating. Exposed ground now stood where water once was. She shook her head sadly as more tears fell. What a waste this all seemed. If only they had taken her seriously. Now all was gone, just because they couldn’t believe in her.

 She stood there, crying softly as she watched the water return once more.

© 2011 Melissa L. Webb


The Fall Queen- Friday Flash

A picture of our bonfire taken with my digital...

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By Melissa L. Webb

She crept through the trees, watching bonfires burn brightly in the night air around her; each one lit in her honor. The festivities here tonight would too be in her honor.

It was again that time of year. Time for the trees to shed their dead and the harvest to be ripe. She watched as the people carved some of the harvest, adding candles as they went. What a glorious night this was.

She trembled with excitement as she crept closer to the heart of the village. Wonderful aromas filled the air, turning the world into a blur of apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg. She sighed as she breathed it in. This was perfection. The village was hard at work, preparing for the feast tonight. It was a special one…and it was all for her.

She turned quickly as more wood was thrown on the fires, stoking the flames higher. The wood crackled, sending sparks into the air. Time was drawing nearer. The veil was thinning as the night became darker. Soon, she would take her rightful place. This was her night. Her night alone.

Here she was Queen, and those around her would bow to her as she walked through this night, regal yet determined; claiming what was hers.

She slipped quietly back into the shadows, waiting with a smile on her lips. It was good to be Death.

© 2011 Melissa L. Webb

Wet Work- Friday Flash

Give Blood transparent

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By Melissa L. Webb

The blood splattered the walls as if it was abstract art. I watched as the patterns seemed to come together around me. Damn, I wish I had my camera. The gory masterpiece before me should be documented for posterity.

I slide the blade from her skin as she moaned causing more blood to flow, staining the white sheets to a dark crimson. What little life she had left in her struggled against me as I worked, even as it ebbed away.

I tossed the knife aside, wanting to feel her fleeting life force against my skin. My fingers curled around the pale flesh of her throat, digging in. She gurgled against me, trying desperately to suck in her last remaining breath as I tightened my hold, watching the life fade from her eyes.

With a final failed gasp, her muscles relaxed. I grinned as her body went limp. All life had been spilled from her. I reluctantly withdrew my hands from her neck and got up; staring at the lifeless beauty sprawled across the bed. How exquisite she looked in death.

Everything always seemed more beautiful at the end. I don’t know why that’s true, but it is. I guess death strips away the pretenses and leaves us with nothing but honesty.

I stepped back, sadly drawing my eyes away from my dark creation. It was time to clean up. I got busy, removing all evidence I had been there. I am saddened by this part, because the dance of death cannot be done without a partner, but I can’t let them find me.

I finished and quickly looked around the room, my eyes taking in the perfection of death one last time. My eyes linger on the blood splatters, taking in their whisperings of mortality. However, as I walk away, the sadness is fleeting, for I know, there are always more walls to paint.

© 2011 Melissa L. Webb

Domestic Disturbance- Friday Flash

Stainless steel home appliances popular in mod...

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By Melissa L. Webb

Beth stepped into the kitchen and let out a sigh. The kids were at school. Her husband was off to work. Finally, she could catch her breath and relax a little. Grabbing a mug, she poured herself a cup of coffee, then slipped into a chair at the table. Closing her eyes, she let the stress of the morning flow from her.

“It’s only a matter of time, you know.”

Her eyelids cracked open as she peered around the kitchen. Not again. “Go away,” she muttered, closing her eyes once more.

“Not until you listen to us.”

With a sigh, Beth opened her eyes. “We’ve been down this road before; I’m not listening to you.”

There was a clatter next to the sink as one of the pots moved forward, its lid lifting as speech flowed from it. “All he does is treat you like a slave,” it told her. “You need to get rid of him.”

She shook her head. “I’m not doing that.”

“What? You’d rather spend your life at his beck and call?” the oven asked, opening its door.

Beth took another sip of her coffee, thinking over those words. “No. You know I don’t.”

“Then fix it,” the can opener said as it turned on. “Make him pay for it. Make him pay for everything.”

Setting down her mug, she stared at the appliances around her. “Phil doesn’t deserve to die. Is it really too much to expect me to run the household?”

“You tell us,” the coffee pot chimed in. “How do you feel when you’re waiting on him hand and foot?”

“I don’t like it,” she said, rubbing absently at her forehead.


“But that doesn’t mean he deserves to die.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” the toaster said flatly. “But you have to realize something, killing him is the only way you’ll be free.”

Beth stood up suddenly. “No. I won’t do it. I can’t.”

“You have to,” the fridge said. “You have to kill them all.”

“I don’t,” she told it firmly. “And I won’t. Do you hear me? I’m not killing my family.”

“Fine,” the oven told her.  “Keep on suffering. We’re only trying to save you.”

“Well, I don’t need to be saved,” Beth told it, sitting back down at the table. “Now, please, I’d like to finish my coffee in peace.”

“Okay,” the pot told her as everything settled back into its place. “But just remember, it’s only a matter of time before you listen to us.”

© 2011 Melissa L. Webb

His Dark Ink- Friday Flash

Celtic knot two-part circle horizontal

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By Melissa L. Webb

Jack sat up in bed, sheets clinging to him as his heart thundered in his chest. The image still lingered in front of his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he tried to pull himself from the faint grasp of sleep still clinging to his mind. Jack quickly untangled himself, rising from the bed. Padding silently into the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, sitting down at the table. What was going on with him?

Every night this last week he had woken up the same way; heart pounding, an image in his mind. He never remembered anything else except that image. Even now, it still burned in his mind. Taking another sip from the bottle, he grabbed a notebook and a pen from the table, carefully recreating the image from his mind.

Suddenly Jack stopped, staring down at the paper. The picture he had created was breathtaking. Black lines swirled together in complex patterns forming an exquisite sight. A perfect duplicate of the image haunting his dreams.

A tear slipped from the corner of his eye. These black lines stirred feelings he had never experienced before. It was all encompassing, yet comforting; as if being wrapped in a mother’s embrace. Looking at this design, he knew he belonged. Someone was out there who loved him, who cared about him. This was their sign all would be well.

Leaning back in his chair, Jack took another sip of water. He needed to find a way to keep this feeling; to hold on to this gift he’d been given.

A smile spread across his lips. He knew exactly how to make this symbol his forever.

A week later, Jack left the tattoo parlor and glanced at his bandaged bicep. The symbol was now his. It had become a part of who he was, who he could be. It was now part of who he was destined to be. Grinning, he made his way to the car. He would carry this beauty with him forever.


The God rejoiced as he felt his reach flow into the man, slowly taking him over; turning him into a willing pawn. This mortal would become the first of his new soldiers.

Soon, the God would have his army. Rising up, they would reclaim the world in His name. It was only a matter of time now.

He turned his sight from the anointed mortal and started to search for the next victim to wear his mark.

© 2011 Melissa L. Webb