Flash: Three to the Chest

Clip Art Gun

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“Fuck, fuck, fuck … out of bullets.” Neville cursed as his gun clicked empty. The laboratory cabinet continued to shake as he ducked behind it. His opponents did not have the same ammunition limitations. Fortunately the metal cabinet had been built to handle exploding experiments.

The altercation had turned the laboratory into a war-zone, toppling even the heavy marble tables. One of which Younger was curled behind. “Damn it, Neville. You’re a vampire. Just stand up, take three to the chest and reload.”

Looking at his unarmed human companion wincing as a ricochet chipped the marble beside his face, Neville deadpanned, “Wrong caliber.” He tucked his favorite piece back into the ankle holster. “How about you … can’t you do whatever the fuck it is you do?”

“Thought you wanted some of the coven to still be alive, or at least undead, at the end. Quinn can’t be head vamp without followers.”

“Like you are that powerful,” Neville sneered. “The two fucks over there with their thralls are over four hundred years.” Neville looked around for better cover. He could hear some of the bullets pinging the inside of the cabinet now. They had pierced the front doors.

“If you are sure…” Younger commented.

The cabinet exploded in a rain of chemicals and glass as Neville dashed between several thin metal desks to join Younger under cover. Someone had broken out a shotgun with amour piercing rounds. “Fuck, yeah I’m sure. Just do it!” he screamed.

…. When the smoke cleared, Neville stared at Younger. He tried to remember the last few minutes, but fragments of icy fire and hungry darkness wouldn’t form into coherent thought. It was like someone had obscured his memory after a feeding; something not possible while he was the coven’s enforcer for Quinn.

“Okay, I stand corrected.” He stepped between the rapidly decaying bodies of the ancients they had been fighting, approaching his suddenly scary mortal ally. At least Neville hoped he was an ally. “Fucking powerful. How the Hell…?”

“Don’t ask, don’t tell, and don’t repeat, my friend.” Younger smiled enigmatically.

Sirens could be heard between the rubble resettling and liquid drips. “Riiiight.” Neville shook his head. “Well, Quinn owes you one and so do I.”

“Think you can cover this?” The scourge waved his hand at the wreckage.

Neville pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, a quick glance at the time indicated it was only four AM. Dawn was still a ways off. “If I can’t, I got people who can.”

“Okay, I’ll be going then. Just remember next time to ask the bad guys to provide the same caliber bullets.”

Laughing Neville agreed, “I’ll do that.”

(words 447 – first published 5/22/2013; republished in new blog format on 6/04/2017)

Flash: Diamonds HIding

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The diamonds fell from her hands, scattering like stars in the night across the black marble. And as uncaring as the cold stars looking on from the sky, they reflected her falling, winked red as blood pooled out, and hid in the shadows when daylight came.


Younger did not know why he was here. The cops never called him. Yet this time they did.

DJ and Jeffery grunted greeting as they lifted the police tape. He nodded to the officers, debating talking to them. Spotting the detectives, he decided against it. Lance and Paul were assholes. Which made him being called in even more strange.

Not his normal strange, but the WTF?!? strange you get when your mom compliments your death metal tattoo.

Though he knew if those two called him in … his normal strange would be happening soon enough.

(words 141 – first published 5/1/2013; republished in new blog format on 4/2/2017)

Flash: Half-Hungry

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Gwyn came out of the apartment bathroom to find Jeremy asleep on the couch. She smiled. The guy was just so sweet and nice; she couldn’t believe he had faced Anthony down when they went to get her things. Nearly broke her ex-boyfriend’s arm when he took a swing at Jeremy. When did he get so strong?

The last two days have been a whirlwind since she cried on his shoulder.  Getting her stuff, replacing all the things Anthony had destroyed, and the thousand and one things involved in changing her address. And Jeremy had been beside her through it all, while checking in with his business and covering any hours he couldn’t get employees to come in to help.

He was and always had been the one stroke of luck in her life.

She should let him sleep.

She tiptoed past the couch to get to the second bedroom in the apartment.  The living jungle. Jeremy had moved many of the plants into his room, kitchen, and balcony, plus a Prius car-load out to the nursery in his florist shop to make room for his guest cot and her new clothes, but the amount of green was still overwhelming.

A hand grabbed her leg below her short nightdress, while a sleepy tenor asked, “Where are you going?”

Trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore the shivers caused by Jeremy’s thumb caressing her knee, Gwyn whispered, “Off to bed. It’s nearly midnight.”

One black eye opened blearily. “Dinner … you need to eat something.”

“I’m good.” Gwyn’s stomach made a noisy denial of her statement. She had skipped dinner the night before, and every meal but lunch today – which Jeremy had made her eat between getting new bras and changing her driver’s license.

His other eye opened and his black eyes stared her down, while his lips twitched. Suddenly they both burst out laughing. Jeremy sat up on the couch and pulled her down into his lap.

“I can hear that.” He said between laughs.

Gwyn threw her arms around her childhood friend and gave herself over to the healing laughter. She so needed this.

Equally suddenly, the laughter stopped. She felt a bump under her ass that hadn’t been there before. And Jeremy’s black eyes were focused on her lips. Gwyn licked them instinctively.

They had dated a little through Junior High and High School, so she knew Jeremy found her attractive. Teenage boys didn’t have much control over the arousal reflex, but good teenage girls aren’t supposed to notice. He never did anything inappropriate though. Jeremy was her safe harbor.

Her nipples tightened as he moved his head towards her slowly and her pussy clenched. This was Jeremy, why was she reacting? Safe Jeremy. Nice Jeremy. His lips brushed hers lightly on the side and she moved to meet them. Jeremy whose shoulder she cried on. Jeremy whom took her in.

Light nibbles along her lip invited her to open her mouth. Gwyn sank into the next level of kisses with a sigh. Jeremy’s gardening-roughened hands cupped a breast through her thin white silk nightdress. His thumb rubbed a nipple, the chapped skin increasing the sensation caused by the abrasion.

Her head spun as the kiss deepened and she discovered his weight pressing her into the couch. Jeremy had stretched her out and pressed her into the white cushions; his shaft straining at his jeans against her exposed mound. The nightdress had hiked up and she wasn’t wearing underwear.

Jeremy released her mouth. He didn’t say anything, but their eyes met a moment. Gwyn understood he checking for any protest, any reluctance. But this was Jeremy, her harmless, innocent Jeremy. She trusted him to take care of her. Later, later she would do something to wreck what they were starting. But that would be her fault, not his. She gave him a quick peck on the forehead and waited to see what her friend would do next.

He stopped to nuzzle her breasts. His four-o’clock shadow made them extra sensitive as he sucked first one and then the other through the silk. He bit and sucked until she was moaning, writhing beneath him. His weight held the bottom half of her in place, forcing her to grab his strong shoulders with her hands and arch her body closer to his. He slipped a hand between them and found her slickness.

With his callused thumb, Jeremy rubbed her nub while the rest of his hand cupped her mound. She separated her legs to make more room for his palm and he took advantage to change hand position and dip a finger into her. Gwyn bucked against the hand. Jeremy sucked one tit deeply into his mouth then blew air onto the silk and nipple, all the while increasing the pressure on her clit.

Lights danced behind Gwyn’s closed eyes. She knew her fingernails were digging deeply into Jeremy’s shoulders but couldn’t control them. “Close, oh, god, Jeremy, so close.”

The mouth left her breasts and the thumb abandoned her clit. The tightening coil didn’t let her go and she squirmed for fulfillment when Jeremy’s weight released her.

Then she felt Jeremy grab her legs and pull her toward the end of the armless coach. Her nightdress rode up her back and bunched around her breasts, leaving her pussy and belly completely exposed. His strong hands pushed her knees apart, the bottom half of her legs now hanging over the coach, and he blew air against her most intimate parts. She arched up again, but his hands held her knees and hips firmly in place. She felt his stubble graze her inner thighs and then his mouth found her clit.

(947 words – originally appearing at Breathless Press 10/16/13 for the 8/19/12 Sunday Fun, published on the first blog on 10/20/2013; republished new blog format 3/12/2017)

Flash: Me, Again

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Finally finding his cell, Younger looked around to steady himself before placing the call. Trees uprooted, blood and dirt mixed into a crusty mud, small underbrush fires providing flickering views of the devastation. How he hated this next part of his hereditary “second job”.

Three quick numbers dialed, he held the phone to his ear when the ringing began. A pleasant woman on the other end confirmed he reached the correct number. She continued the automatic pleasantry with “How may I help you?”

“It’s me, again.” he stated grimacing. “Michelle, right?”

“Huh, what? Yes, my name is Michelle.”

The man leaned against a tree waiting for the woman to realign her world. Not everyone identifies 911 operators by their voice. He called way too much.

A nervous voice betrayed her recognition after a moment. “Oh, Mr. Younger. Do I need to send any special equipment?”

“No … no leftover bombs this time. Everything detonated. No need for an ambulance either, so you can recall that.”

“Where are you located at this time sir?”

“Damn, give me a minute to find that GPS gizmo the cops gave me.” He started searching the area. “It can’t be far from where the phone was, they started in the same pocket.”

“Can you describe the location?”

He snorted as he recognized the standard question from her screen. But the prompt worked, “On the Powder Monkey Trail in Cameron Park, about a quarter mile in … maybe.” A metallic glint reflected in the dying fires. Younger kicked a squishy bit off to reveal the machine he was looking for – perfectly crushed. Sighing, “Yeah, well, I am at a switchback. Lots of grooves and ruts from dirt bikes.”

“Officers should be there shortly. Please stay on the line.”

“Not a problem Michelle, I know the routine.” And hated it. Modern bureaucracy at its finest. Red tape to tie him up for the next day. He would need to call his work shortly; fortunately working for a company three states away as a virtual programmer gave him leeway in getting his forty hours in. Flex time a-plenty to deal with the tokens his mother’s bloodline brought his way.

“Sir, the officers have arrived at the parking lot and are heading down the trail. They have asked me to remind you not to move anything.”

“Fuck, that would be Lance and Paul.” Younger looked the way they would be coming in. His eyes drifted to the stringy mass decorating tree limbs. “Could you tell Paul to bring a puke bag? He ain’t going to last long.”

Next time. Next time, he promised himself. Things will not devolve to the point he needed to call the nice girls at 911. Except maybe for a date; Michelle sounded hot, when he wasn’t scaring the shit out of her.

(words 468 –  first published 3/13/2013; republished in new blog format on 2/5/2017)

Flash: Half-Empty

Stock Art of Man Holding Woman

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Jeremy was safe. He had always been safe from the time they met at the orthodontist in sixth grade  getting their braces tightened through Junior Proms for their respective high schools to today, when Anthony let her know he was leaving her because she was the ice queen of the Queen City. She wasn’t an ice queen; God knows, they had sex often enough. She just wasn’t into the weirdness he started introducing after they had moved in together.

It was good to feel safe again after the last six months of Hell, before she had to go back for her things and figure out where she was going to live. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk the half bottle of wine. She pushed a little away from Jeremy to stare into his black eyes for a moment, “I did it again didn’t I.”

A rueful smile crossed Jeremy’s boyishly handsome face, “You seem to pick them just like your mom.”

For a second Gwyn leaned her forehead against his. They used to do that as kids trying to exchange thoughts. Jeremy had been determined to learn telepathy, sci-fi geek that he was. She dropped her eyes to his drenched shirt, “And you warned me, like you always warn me.” A sob-laugh escaped. “I always look for guys that live on the edge, the rebel. I should let you choose my next boyfriend.”

His arms tightened around her back for a moment, making her feel even more secure. “Maybe you should,” his tenor voice dropping.

“I just don’t want to hurt any of your friends’ feelings.” Gwyn explained, glancing at his face a moment before focusing on the drying herbs over the stove. “I know it will happen just like that time in college when I tried to date a nice guy and I ended up jumping into bed with his roommate. I just am not safe for good people.”

Jeremy’s grip loosened in a manner that made her naturally step a little back. “You could try dating me for practice.”

Surprisingly her nipples tightened at the offer and she felt a twinge in her pussy. Gwyn licked her lips before responding. “We dated already, remember.”

Tipping his head to the side to try and capture her eyes that were darting around his immaculate kitchen. “Group dates for pizza don’t count as dating.”

She shook her head, focusing her eyes on the recognizable mortar and pestle among his more exotic kitchen gear. Whispering she said, “I don’t want to lose you. I destroy everything, and you are such a nice person.”

“Not as nice as I should be.” The twenty-six year old said as his hands slipped down a moment to grab her ass before letting it go. “Let’s go get your things from Tonedeaf; you are going to move in with me.”

Gwyn’s head spun a moment. Maybe from the wine, maybe from the surge between her legs when he grabbed her ass, maybe from Jeremy’s sudden taking over the situation. “No, no Jeremy, you shouldn’t. Anthony will still be there. You could get hurt.”

He smiled, evilly, protectively. “Somehow I doubt that.” He picked up his man-purse. Okay, leather-satchel, but Gwyn knew it was just another part of Jeremy’s being a peaceful, kind, safe guy. The purse was filled with stuff from his florist cum health food shop, including ointments he always offered to people when they were out in public. He called it marketing; she called it helping people where you find them.

Jeremy stood by the front door, holding it open so she could see the Gaelic welcome mat and his bright green Prius. Giving up, Gwyn followed him out the door. She guessed it was time to destroy him, as she had every other guy that she had ever touched.

 (633 words – originally appearing Sunday Fun on Breathless Press 10/28/12, adjusted slightly and published on old blog on 11/11/2012, republished new blog format 1/8/2017 ** May become base for first story in Novella series on Queen’s City Coven)