Cherie Reich is hosting a flash fiction blogfest that ends today. The rules are:
Here are the rules:
- Entries must begin with the two words: Lightning flashed.
- Entries must be 300 words or less and be in prose.
- Entries must be posted on your blog between May 21 - 23.
- You must sign up in the linky to have your entry be counted.
And here's my entry. This was... cathartic:
Lightning flashed. Thunder crashed. Rain poured.
I heard none of it.
My brain buzzed. Dead, dead, dead.
He couldn't be dead. I had to get there in time.
I had to save him.
"Chase!" I knew he wouldn't be able to hear me, not over the thunder and the rain and the dead, dead, dead, but I willed him to realize I was coming. Willed him to have hope.
Willed him to live.
Then I heard the scream.
"No!" I took the turn too fast, sliding on wet grass and landing hard on my knee, but I only felt numb. "Chase!"
I hit the clearing at a dead run, and I didn't stop to think about the fact that I was small and weak. I just saw the ungodly figure rise up with Chase—my Chase—defenseless below it.
I jumped on its back.
It roared and bucked, but I clung to it as it rose to its full, 14-foot height.
I didn't look down.
The hilt of my knife pressed into my hip, and I fumbled for it. In a swift, confident motion, I ran it up into the spot where the jaw meets the ear. Blood soaked me, pungent and inhuman, but I forced the blade farther, slicing across, severing the head.
It fell, but I rolled away and was crawling to Chase before the ground settled. "Chase." Tears burned my nose. Every part of him looked broken or bleeding. I didn't know where I could touch.
Dead, dead, dead.
Then he coughed. "Lex?"
I laughed, watery and almost hysterical. "Yeah."
Another cough, a little stronger. "Remember when I said I wanted to go camping?"
He opened one eye, and the knot of tears in my throat broke as he said, "I'm sorry about that."