It's the 2nd Annual Flash Fiction Blogfest (may21-23) hosted by Cherie Reich to celebrate her third year blogversary. It doubles up as a competition with three winners getting Amazon gift cards. Open voting on may28.
Check out the linky list of other flash writers here.
A piece of flash 300 words or less beginning with the words Lightning Flashed.
A piece of flash 300 words or less beginning with the words Lightning Flashed.
Lightning flashed in the distance. They sans
one huddled closer drawing comfort from each other. The swirling black clouds were
visible indicating that their journey was at its end. Yet, darkness would
arrive before them. The winding road seemingly friendly an hour ago was at its
treacherous best. The trees lining both sides were gnarled in places, hideous
stumps at others, the roots spreading out onto the pathway like greedy fingers.
The leafless branches rustled and bent towards them. This is an illusion.
The shaman’s dying warning echoed. Icy hands trailed through their limbs. Fear,
the warriors accepted, welcomed, but this unseen entity chilled their hearts,
dulled their instincts, made them cower like the villagers they were bound to
protect.
Ashan, the self appointed leader, twirled
his blood stained scimitar. Basher balked at the other’s impatience, then nudged
the unsure group forward. He waited for the one tagging behind. She moved with firm,
alert steps belying her tender age. She had impressed Bashir by offering to be
the bait. The council had happily agreed.
He
had sworn then to protect her with his life.
A flash of light revealed the looming grey
castle. Thunder made its presence felt. Then. Utter silence. They stopped a few
feet away from the gates. Ashan turned to Bashir. “Take the girl and walk
ahead. We follow close behind.”
Why single me out? “Come. It’s time.” in the kindest tone he could manage.
One of the gates unbolted, wide enough for
a person to pass through.
He
stopped her as she moved forward. “I go first.”
The iron door closed behind them. Bashir
rushed back trying in vain to wrench it open.
His reward was bloodied fingers.
Yasmin watched him, the slow hunger now a raging
need. The warrior’s blood smelled sweet. A feast tonight.
Wc 300 Exact.
*Love using Asian characters since they are few and far between beyond our shores.