Flash Fiction Challenge: Rebellion

For Chuck Wendig’s Flash Fiction Challenge
“Rebellion” 1,117 words

His voice was thunderous in the high ceiling room.

“We’ll show those demon scum! This little revolt of their will be their last!” The general slammed one meaty fist on the table, several goblets tipping over from the shaking. Dark wine stained heavily marked maps red. “Those dirty buggers should be grateful we let them live at all!”

“Here here!” Some men clapped while others raised their goblets in praise.

The general nodded at his men, clearly pleased with his speech and their reaction. He turned to a general sitting on the left of the table. “Now then, Captain Archibald?” The man looked up. He was a short man, round and with wispy whiskers that made him look rather like a mouse.

“Yes General? You have orders for me?” His voice was high and squeaky, just like a mouse. His hands fiddled with a piece of paper. His goblet was one of those tipped over by the generals earlier exuberance. He eyed the spilled wine regretfully.

“I want you and Captain Guran to take your legions to quell this annoyance. Such a show of force should be enough to squash whatever hop or ideas those little shits might have had.”

“Yes, General Capalan. I shall ready my men to leave at first light.”

“As will I, Sir.” Captain Guran was the youngest man sitting around the table by a good ten years. He lifted his goblet, newly refilled by a servant and downed it. He had already gone through several re-fillings. At least the wine was watered down.

“Excellent, I trust you will have no troubles with this little problem of ours?” The general eyes his captains, his cheeks reddened from wine. His fine blue lined jacket was stretched tight across his belly, the gold buttons straining.

“No problem at all General,” Captain Archibald squeaked.

“Shouldn’t take more than half a day.” proclaimed Captain Guran.

“Excellent, most excellent. Then I call this meeting of the Royal Calderon Army concluded. You are dismissed.”

The captains stood as one and bowed to their general, fist over heart.

General Capalan nodded and practically waddled out of the room, his lieutenant-secretary scurrying behind him.

I blew the ink dry on my notes from the meeting and snapped my folder shut, other lieutenant-secretaries doing the same in our little line along the wall.

“Come Lieutenant Ros, we have work to do!” General Guran drained his goblet one last time and strode out of the room, his long legs moving him forward quickly.

My eyes narrowed in annoyance and hurried after the man. When would he realize not everyone was as tall as he was? I hurried out of the room after him while General Archibald vainly tried to wipe wine off some papers. To save the wine or paperwork I had no idea.

“Must you drink so much, sir?” I asked when I caught up to him in the corridor. Long blue banners emblazoned with the hammer and fist of Calderon flapping along the walls. Someone had opened a window and let a draft in.

“Of course I do Ros, have to keep up appearances don’t I?” He ran a white gloved hand though his dark, slicked back hair. “Besides, my tolerance is much higher than any of those idio–.” He was interrupted by a loud belch that echoed down the corridor.

“You were saying?” I asked, eyebrows raised. He at least had the sense to look sheepish.

“I don’t think the bean soup from lunch agreed with me.” He patted his stomach.

“Whatever you say sir,” I pushed my glasses back up my nose, damn things were constantly slipping. We passed down a flight of sitar to the main level and made our way to the barracks where the soldiers of the 4th legion were stationed.

I opened my folder and reviewed my notes from the meeting. “They did not give us much time to  prepare, and now we will have to deal with Captain Archibald’s legion as well.”

“You worry far too much Ros, we will be fine. I have full faith in you.” The taller man grinned down at me. Despite his claims to a high tolerance, a flush spilled across his cheeks.

“Shouldn’t it be the other way around sir?” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing sir, just calculating the speed we will have to move at in order to reach our destination.”

“Ah, very good.”

We walked into the barracks, men jumping up from card tables, beds, and even the floor where cards and books were scattered to salute their officers, fist over heart.

“At ease men,” Captain Guran smiled at his men as they relaxed, some sitting back down at their table and picking up spilled cards. We were close in the 4th legion.

“Do we have new orders General?” Piped up one man, a corporal named Harold.

“We do, our orders are to travel with Archibald’s legion to put down this new revolt in the south.”

“When do we leave sir?”

“As soon as you lot get your gear and horses together!” His orders were said with a grin.

“Yes sir!” The men saluted and the room became a flurry of moment at the men moved out to gather supplies and ready horses and wagons. Soon Captain Guran and I were alone in the room.

We headed towards the back of the room where two closed doors sat. One led to my own private room, the other, to the Captains. We entered the captains room, locking the door behind us.

“It will take us at least half a day’s march to arrive at the location. But we will have to move faster than that if we want to arrive before Captain Archibald’s men.” I set my folder down on the captains desk. I scowled at it. It was covered in papers again. I had just organized it the day before. The man would lose his shoes if I didn’t keep track of them.

 “Will that give your family enough time to prepare?’ Captain Guran asked as he flopped into an overstuffed armchair.

“It’ll have to be.” I opened a small drawer that was almost hidden on the side of the desk and pulled out a small round mirror, it’s edges were lined with the curling script of demons.

“Well then, contact them and let them know now’s the time. Time for our little rebellion out into the light.” He smiled and poured himself a glass of water.

I stared into the mirror, releasing the strands of magic that wrapped around myself. I smiled as bones shifted and hair lightened until the face of a demon stared back. I smiled at my Captain.


Flash Fiction: “Wild Night”

Written for Chuck Wendig’s Flash Fiction Challenge:
Pick An Opening Sentence And Go
Thanks to Paige S. for my opening sentence

I woke up with scabs on my hands and blood in my mouth.

“Shit! Not again!” I yelled at no one in particular.

Carefully, I got to my feet, wincing when the abrasions on my hands met the dirt on my knees. I scowled down at them as if they were to blame for my current predicament.

I wiped at the blood on my mouth with a handkerchief from my pocket. (Ew, the blood tastes like old man) Looking at my surroundings trying I try to figure out where I ended up this time. Judging from the damp bricks and rotten fish, I was near the docks at the Eastern end of the city. The exact opposite end from where I had started the night.

“I’m gonna to kill Ingrid next time I see her,” I muttered, fishing my phone out of a grimy pocket. I was covered in the slime and dirt of the alley, I glanced down at my dark t-shirt, some substance marred the once white letters. “Some like it cold” it once read, another shirt ruined. I turned on my phone, the bright light blinding to my sensitive eyes in the pre-dawn darkness.

Three missed calls from Ingrid. Good! Let her be the one worrying for once. There were several messages from Jake too. My lips thinned, those would be ignored until later. I dialed Ingrid’s number, she picked up on the third ring.

“Eeeey Amaya! You’re still alive right?” she slurred. Great, she was still drunk.

“Yeah I’m still alive, no thanks to you. Mind telling me why I blacked out and ended up at the docks?” My voice was harsh.

“Ha ha you made it all the way over there?? That’s hilarious!” she cackled into the phone. I gritted my teeth.

“Ingrid, what happened? Sun’s coming up soon and I don’t know where my car is.”

“No worries Am’s, I’ve got your car. I’m driving towards you now,” she giggled. “It was a wild night!”

“Meet me in front of the bakery by the fish market, and once you here there you’re going to tell me everything!” I was practically shouting by the end but I wasn’t worried about anyone overhearing, I couldn’t hear any awake heartbeats at this block.

“Ha ha, K, see ya Am’s!”

“Bye Ingrid,” The phone clicked as she hung up. I had to hold myself back from screaming at the dark screen. Ingrid’s laid back attitude was going to get one or both of us killed one day.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and headed out of the alley. I glanced around and was relieved to see no bodies lying around. I hadn’t killed in years, I really didn’t need to start now. Ingrid would know where the old man’s blood came from, probably.

The cool night air felt good on my face as I walked the streets towards the bakery. I tried to get my mass of black hair into some semblance of order but gave up when the knots kept catching on the cuts on my hands.

The walk was thankfully a short one. I was right about where I thought I was, just a couple blocks from the docks. The first ships already starting to pull in. The gulls were screeching as they smelled the catch of the day.

The back light was on in the bakery as I took a seat in one do the chairs chained to the ground, the bakers started earlier than the fisherman.

I didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough I could ear the roar of my Toyota truck careening down the cities empty streets. I winced as she came around a corner, trucks weren’t supposed to make turns that tight.

The truck screeched to a half direct in front of me, coming up on the curb. A very tall blond woman sitting in the drivers seat.

“Yo Amaya!” called Ingrid cheerfully from my truck. I grumbled a greeting back as I yanked open one faded yellow door and pulled myself inside. “Someone’s in a grouchy mood.” She said. The engine revved as she turned the truck in a u turn in the middle of the empty street.

“Someone woke up covered in slime and in an alley all the way across the city. Mind telling me how I got there?” I harrumphed out rummaging in the back seat. I always carried a bag of supplies in my car. It came in way more handy that it should. After a bit I found some wipes and a bottle of water. Success!

“Wellll…” she trailed off and became very focused on the road.

“What did you do Ingrid?” I sighed as I got as much of the dried blood off as I could. Even sober Ingrid never paid much attention to the road. It was the reason I always drove.

She made a face at me but continued, “So while we were at the bar I found this guy.”

“Old guy?” I asked, remembering the flavor of the blood.

“Yeah, he was in like his 50s? Anyway, Morrin had just sold him some Angel Dust, really pure stuff ya know? Where he gets it so pure I have no idea.”

“Focus Ingrid,” I growled. I had finished washing up and was downing the bottle of water with some aspirin I had found. A throbbing headache was starting behind my eyes. A guy high on Angel Dust, no wonder I couldn’t remember anything.

Angel Dust was the most popular drug on the streets right now. No idea what it was but it was supposed to make you feel light a Light Knight, like you could do anything.

“I know you normally don’t like drinking drugged blood but you were having SUCH a bad day since Jake did, you know” The truck turned down a more populated road, “So I thought I’d do something you cheer you up. And what better way than getting high on a high guys blood!” She flashed me a large blinding smile, street light glinting off her long, sharp fangs.

“That’s your idea of a good time Ingrid, not mine” I rubbed my temples, my headache was only getting worse. After effects of the Angel Dust most likely.

“Well you were pretty happy for a while after I convinced you to drink… Until you shouted that you were Batman and ran off, running along the rooftops..” she trailed off again gigging, her pale blue eyes bright and not looking at the road. She swerved suddenly to just barely make the turn onto our street.

I groaned and clutched at my forehead. “I did what?” I asked after the car stopped spinning. I guess that explained the cuts on my hands. “You mean to tell me I jumped the rooftops from the bar to the docks?”

have, I’m gonna have to tell Morrin, he’ll think it’s hilarious!” she pulled into the parking lot in front of our apartment and turned off the engine.

“You’ll do no such thing, now gimme my keys, I need a shower.” I growled and held a hand out. Ingrid sighed in mock defeat and handed me my keys. I didn’t doubt for a second that in a couple minutes she would be texting Morrin. Looking down at my keys my face burned a bright red, my batman key chain had landed on top. I really hoped everyone at the bar was too drunk to remember anything.

Ingrid stumbled after me as we entered the stairway leading to our apartment. The place was littered with trash and graffiti on the patched walls. It smelled like someone had peed in it recently too. I covered my nose and headed up the stairs. Sometimes having a supernatural sense of smell wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Ingrid followed behind me, humming some song that sounded vaguely familiar. I thought it might have been The Crazy 9’s.

I hurried past a couple passed out drunks on unlocked the door to the apartment. Once inside I practically flew out of my clothes and into the shower, letting the scalding hot water wash away the slime of the alley.

“Hey Am’s?” came Ingrid’s confused voice from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Yea?” I called over the sound of the water. I had finished washing already and was letting the warm water soak into my bones. There was nothing better than a hot shower.

say she was coming over today?”

I shut off the water and poked my head out. Tara was a friend of ours, human but generally pretty cool. “No, I haven’t heard from her in awhile, why?” Dripping water I grabbed my fluffy towel and quickly began drying myself off.

“Because she’s passed out on our couch,” Ingrid went quiet, “she smells like blood Amaya.”

I started towel hovering over a leg, blood? Was Tara hurt? I wrapped my towel around myself and opened the door to the rest of the apartment, steam escaping in large clouds. The fan in the bathroom hadn’t worked since we moved in two years ago.

Ingrid was standing at the end of the hallway, a worried look on her face and chewing on her thumbnail. She glanced at me and pointed at the sagging, paisley patterned couch.

I tugged my towel tighter, hair dripping on the worn carpet. I looked over the edge of the couch and there was Tara, asleep on out couch, face hidden under one flung out arm, her red curls falling out of a half hearted braid. Her jeans were dirty and she was barefoot, she looked like she had a worse night than I had.

And Ingrid was right, she smelled like blood, lots of it. I could just make out a dark red stain on what I could see of her blue t-shirt.

“Well she’s breathing normally so she’s not hurt.” I reached out a hand. As soon as I touched her she shrieked and leapt off the couch.

“Tara!” I shouted. “Tara! It’s me! It’s Amaya!” I moved around the couch.

“I’m here too,” called Ingrid as she crossed the room. Tara was huddled against the back waller, her eyes bloodshot and wild, her chest heaving, and, were those fangs!?”

I looked to Ingrid to see if she had noticed too. She gave me a sickly look. Someone biting Tara was so many kinds of bad. Like major, uber bad.

Ingrid and I slowly stepped closer to Tara, hands out and attempting to make soothing noises.

Tara’s eyes kept darting between us, not really seeing. Ingrid reached out a hand towards Tara who let out a loud hiss, showing off where clearly a set of vampire fangs.

Someone had turned The Paladin’s sister.