Saturday, August 22, 2015

Cracked Flash: Year 1, Week 9

So, here we are again. It's always such a pleasure. Remember how you tried to kill me--that's the wrong song. 

Space Unicorn, soaring through the--

No, that's not it.

Well, what do you want of me?

A writer. 

We need a writer? 

We're holding out for a writer 'til the end of the night!

You heard the alternate-ego. Are you ready for this? Are you hanging on the edge of your--*shot*

Take a looksy through the full rules if you haven't already!

Judges This Week: Rin and Si

Word count: 300 max

How: Submit your stories as a comment to this post, along with your name, word count, and title (and Twitter handle or blog if you've got 'em!). Only one entry per person.

Deadline: Midnight tonight, PDT!

Results announced: Next Wednesday!

Remember: The prompt can be mutilated, but not beyond recognition.


"I hate it. I wish it would stop."


  1. Siren Song

    284 words


    “I hate it. I wish it would stop.”

    The siren had been sounding for hours without respite, its keening wail sending everybody below ground. But even there they continued to be pierced by its needling screech. Chiyoko gazed longingly at the doors.

    “It will stop when it’s safe,” soothed her mother.

    “Where is Mitsuo?” Chiyoko asked, suddenly aware her brother hadn’t followed them.

    “He’ll be with his father in another shelter,” said her mother. “Do not worry.”

    Chiyoko looked around; she was surrounded by the old and infirm, women and young children. And now there was no Mitsuo to distract her with his wild stories.

    She couldn’t bear it any longer. She had to get out. Chiyoko slipped unnoticed back up the dark stairwell. A soft orange glow started to filter under the doors.

    Sunrise, she thought, heart leaping with joy at the thought of a new day. Reassured, she turned the handle and stepped outside.

    And found her world had died.

    “It has,” whispered Little Boy sadly as he sent forth his killing wind. “I am sorry.”

    But Chiyoko did not hear his words. She was already running from this world to the next even as she scrambled back into the shelter, hurtling down steps that dissolved with every movement, carrying her terror and innocence with her.

    Desperately she fought her way to her mother’s side, wrapped herself in her arms, tried to hide from that bright, burning light; a wave of pure brilliance that swept over and through them, sweeping them up in its roaring fire, bringing so much pain.

    And leaving nothing behind but ash and shadow. Whilst on a plane in the distance a man took a photo.

  2. "Torture"

    294 words

    “I hate it. I wish it would stop.” George turns up the volume on the television, trying to keep his attention fixed on the program. Trying at least to drown out the sounds from the back of the house.

    His wife rests a hand on his knee. “It’s not as bad as all that, dear.”

    In spite of the TV, he can still hear it. “It is. It’s awful, and if I have to keep listening to it I’ll simply go insane.” He tries his best not to imagine what’s going on.

    “Don’t exaggerate, George. He’s simply a healthy young man.”

    He shifts uncomfortably in his chair and scratches at his left arm. “Healthy? I wouldn’t call anything he’s doing back there healthy.”

    “Such a fuss about nothing. I bet you did much worse when you were his age.”

    “I never done!”

    “If you say so, George. Remember though, I knew you when.” She kisses him on the cheek. “And I married you anyway.”

    “If the neighbors complain, I’m letting you handle it.”

    “You always do, dear.”

    “This isn’t like the time he took the stick to the hornets’ nest or was playing doctor with little Janie. This is serious.”

    “If you say so.”

    “He gets it from your side of the family. All those strange urges.”

    His wife laughs. “Sometimes you like those strange urges.”


    “Ha! I can still get you to blush.”

    “If you say so.”

    “Just sit back and enjoy the program.”

    He tries, he really does. But the screeches and screams from the back room become too much for him. Finally George can stand it no longer. He stalks down the hall to his son’s room and pounds on the door.

    “That’s enough guitar for one night, young man!”

    1. Wonderful twist, thankfully my own guitar playing son has been a lot more considerate!

  3. Her eyes widened with surprise, and she licked her lips with arousal. He scented her shift in demeanor and interest, and his cock hardened in his jeans. So my little succubus likes to be dominated.


    “Halo? As in the angelic accessory?” Nik almost smirked, but her expression remained earnest as she nodded. “Halo it is.” He ran a hand over her hair. “Did you choose that because you figured you’d never have one?”

    Aislynn never looked away, but her shoulders slumped and her eyes grew sad. “I’m afraid my purity has long since fled after all the deaths I caused.”

    “Stop.” Anger and frustration rose in his chest and his voice came out sharper than he intended. “Here’s my first directive as your Master. You’ll never again wallow in guilt from the deaths of the past. You’ve done what you can to make amends and changed how you feed to keep from hurting others. From now on, you’ll remember those loses can’t be changed and you’ll focus on the good you’re doing with this club and the forgotten. Is that clear?”

    She met his gaze steadily, her face unreadable. His gut sank with the sorrow and guilt radiating off her, but she neither nodded nor frowned. Goddess, I hope she takes my direction. If she didn’t, he worried they’d have a much harder road ahead. She was his True Mate, but if she couldn’t take his direction, he needed to find a way to reach her.

    “When you speak badly of yourself, Aislynn, I hate it. I wish it would stop, that I could make it stop. But that needs to be your decision. And if you decide to ignore my directive, I will get up and leave right now.”

    291 words
    "Trust is Everything"

  4. This comment has been removed by the author.

  5. Repeat Performance
    299 words

    “You know, I really hate it when you do that,” Mark sighed. “I really wish you would stop it.”

    To his total lack of surprise Jenny answered by mimicking him, adding a sing-song twist to his complaint.

    He tried to ignore her, but she simply stepped closer and repeated him again.

    He knew there was nothing he was going to be able to do until he either distracted her or bored her by not reacting, but they both knew he was incapable of reacting. It was pretty much why she’d chosen this game.

    “Really?” he finally asked in a weary voice. “Is this really how you want to spend our time together?”

    The only thing his objection achieved was giving her some other phrase to repeat, playing with the tone and volume until it was all Mark could do not to scream.

    He had just enough time to realize that that in and of itself was a good thing before she started repeating the entire conversation.

    Slowly a smile came to his face as he realized how he could use this to his advantage.

    His imagination went into overtime. If he had a genie, he would have given its bottle to Jenny after ordering it to ignore him and only do what she said…

    Lacking a genie he did the next best thing.

    “You know, you’re such a wonderful person. I could spend the rest of my life with you.”

    Jenny tolerated repeating the compliments for less then 10 minutes before she tired of the game.

    “You’re mean!” She declared.

    “Hey, kid… it was either that or stage a crime scene and get you repeating a confession. Consider yourself lucky.”

    She smiled at him and winked before repeating, “consider yourself lucky.”

    Mark realized he was... and he did.

  6. “I hate it. I wish it would stop.”
    Nate could barely contain his anger any longer. The car alarm had been blaring for almost twenty minutes. Reese glanced up from reading her magazine, giving Nate a sly, knowing smile.
    “Do these things ever really deter criminals anymore? Nate asked. “I’ve never seen anyone running out from a building screaming “STOP THIEF!” when one of these damn alarms goes off.
    “Maybe you should do that right now” Reese said. She knew this would really get his goat.
    “It just amazes me that everyone wants an alarm for their car, but they don’t seem to do any good! A car is STILL stolen every 30 seconds in America isn’t it?” Jack was firmly on his soap box now, citing statistics.
    “I’m not quite sure what the latest stats are” Reese said. “Your sister’s car was stolen twice in the two years she lived in San Francisco. Surely that alone raised the figure a little higher.”
    This brought Nate out of his reverie. It was bad enough that the seemingly endless the alarm was chipping away at his sanity. Now, to add insult to injury, he was being mocked by his wife.
    “Nobody likes a wiseass, honey” and he cut Reese a faux-menacing stare.
    “Apparently nobody likes a late model Toyota Camry either, my beloved!” and Reese pointed out the window.
    The tow truck had just pulled up and was affixing the hook to the front of the car. The loud purr of the engine starting to roaring as it lifted the car up into the air.
    Nate could barely contain his glee. Once again able to enjoy his newspaper in peace and tranquility.
    Until the piercing sound of his neighbor’s electric guitar began. Nate clenched his teeth and Reese giggled once more.

    By Greg Lewis @TheOnlyGreggie
    300 words

  7. 300 words sans title
    What if

    “I hate it. I wish it would...”

    “Stop it, Alberto. Put it to rest. You are simply not a funny man. Accept it.”

    “Easy for you to say, Frankie. Everything that comes out of your mouth is golden. Nuggets of wit and wonder.”

    “It’s divine intervention, my friend. I see the world as one big punch line. You see it as a punch in the gut. I am blessed and you are burdened.”

    “I don’t want it to be this way, Frankie. Isn’t there something you could teach me that would allow me to see the world in a lighter, more humorous vein?”

    “I don’t know, Al. Okay, let’s give it a shot. For a moment, let’s consider the state of political discourse currently in these here United States. How are you feeling about that?”

    “Oh, heck, Frankie, why bring that up. It’s too damned depressing. The Republicans and the Democrats hate each other. They disparage each other’s possible candidates. It’s awful.”

    “I agree things aren’t pleasant. It’s a big country; we expect big problems. But look, who is on the horizon, riding in on a white steed...literally a white steed?”

    “Who, Frankie? Who’s astride that horse? Is it John Wayne?”

    “You’re close, Alberto. Why it’s Donald Trump. The man who is larger than life. And what’s more, in his own inimitable way, he has brought a sense of unity to the left and the right. Everyone is just a little leery about him. He’s the perfect loose cannon. And more to the point, that loosening up of his cannonades, well that has brought a sense of excitement to our political system. And it is the stuff of humour.”

    “What has this to do problem?”

    “If he becomes president, you’re just gonna have to learn how to laugh, Alberto.”


  8. _Alana Dill
    300 words
    Title: The Seige

    “I hate it. I wish it would stop.” Sarah watched through a chink in the second-floor shutters. They'd barricaded the stairs. “Goats climb, right?”

    On the bed, her guide, Jeb, opened his eyes with effort. Smeared blood had glued his lashes together. “Yeah.” The deer attack had left him woozy and weak.

    “We're surrounded. Deer, raccoons... a wolverine?” She wondered if they could climb the cabin's exterior walls.

    “They can't climb up to the second story.”

    “Bears can.”

    Jeb sighed. “They're already hibernating,” and sat up dizzily. “Any food left?”

    “Just a SlimJim and a banana.” She turned to him. “How are we gonna get out of this alive?”

    “Someone will come looking,” he said. Both doubted that.

    They'd awoken to sudden, deep snow. A last few leaves had fallen atop the drifts, leaving red-orange puddles on the white forest floor, like too-fresh blood.

    He'd opened the SUV's hood to find an incinerated raccoon. It had chewed through the battery cable. 
    The animals had chased them back inside.

    He said, “I shouldn't have left the buck strapped to the roof overnight.”

    “This isn't normal animal behavior.”


    In the distance, coyotes squealed, drawing closer.

    She shivered, “What are we gonna do?”

    “Can you climb up to the roof? Write 'HELP' on it with kindling sticks?”

    “The roof.”

    “Yeah. Maybe a passing small plane or helicopter...”

    “We're miles from nowhere and there's another storm coming in.”

    “So hurry.”


    Sarah climbed out the window onto the porch roof, then climbed up on to the main roof. Jeb handed sticks up to her. She was halfway through E when a distant rushing sound caught her ear. The black tree branches swayed at their tips, swarming from every direction, a furry, terrifying rumor approaching all around them.

    She screamed.