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Friday Fictioneer’s: Sharp Ends, Part 4

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Sharp Ends Series/ Part 1 / Part 2/ Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

 

Friday again! Here’s the link to the origin of this prompt, here. I’ve managed to find a way to put this prompt in with the series, quite easily actually. We need more difficult prompts Madison! Anyway, links to the previous and future parts are above, enjoy and remember, constructive critisism is welcome!

The barbed wire had withered but not broken from her sawing, she’d resorted to twisting the flexible material instead. He barely looked at her and when he did, a mixture of emotions from melancholy to anger danced across his facial features. Droplets of rain from the previous night dribbled off her hair languorously. In it’s wake the rain had left a stream of colours which arched across the sky like the curve an arrow travels.

He was impatient, it showed from him constantly humming a tune and pacing around her, his demeanor from the night had almost vanished. She was about to begin haggling him when the wire’s suddenly slackened and fell away. She leaped at the oppurtunity and abrupt, well-worked freedom by darting up behind him. As she moved to grab him in a head lock a siren wailed into life and she stopped dead in her tracks.

Friday Fictioneer’s: Sharp Ends, Part 3

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Sharp Ends Series: /Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

Here is this weeks’s prompt from Madison Wood’s Friday fictioneers, found here. It is also the third part in my ‘Sharp Ends’ series, so enjoy.

 

 

 

Barbed wire bit at her wrists, it held her captive, teaching her a lesson for what she had done. Fear and guilt also held her prisoner, weighing her down like a concrete block.

He circled her like a cobra, waiting to strike with his verbal vemon. In his hand the knife glinted cruely, the moonlight made it wink nefariously. She imagined fur growing from his body as he transformed into a werewolf under the eyes of the full moon, but he didn’t.

In her hand she grasped a sharp-edged stone, sawing at her bindings, she felt a boost of confidence swell inside her as she held the weapon. Would the same confidence remain when she attacked though? Could she actually kill the man she really loved? 

Friday Fictioneer’s: Sharp Ends, Part 1

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Sharp Ends Series: /Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 /Part 7 /

So it’s thursday again,

time for friday fiction, if you

want to join, click Here, for

more information.

 

 

 

 

Century old wood, groaned beneath her feet as she climbed the arthritic stairs onto the porch of the derelict house. She pried the door open, gripping the barbed wire in her beautifully manicured hands, ready to pounce on her prey.

The hallway was empty of life, except for the rats in the walls and the termites making their homes in the floor. Faded wallpaper, which had been popular in the seventies, latched onto the walls with their last curling fingers.

She entered the lounge and saw him sitting in a mouldy couch with springs sticking out like castle defences. Slowly, she edged forward until she was close enough, before throwing the barbed wire around his neck and tugging tightly.

He straggled briefly, his relaxed, unready muscles not filled with strength to stop her, the wire sunk deeper until he stopped flailing, his last words filled the room.

“I loved you…..”

A Second Chance- Part One

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/Part One/Part Two/

Time slowed, I could see the brass bullet hurtling towards me, it had pounced from the gun like a stalking lion, now it was coming in for the kill. It was too late for me to do anything, the bullet too fast, and me not fast enough. The bullet winked at me in the morning sunlight as it punctured my chest, a blossom of blood marked its success. I could imagine the bullet biting through my flesh, weaving through my ribs and making its home in my heart in a matter of seconds. Pain grasped my chest, twisting me around its finger as I wailed and sunk to the ground in agony. The grass engulfed me, it encased me in my coffin, all I saw before my internal injuries whisked me away to death was my the man who had shot me. His gray features had a tightened sadness in them, my last thought was of happiness, because the man would feel guilt for the rest of his life. What father wouldn’t after they’d murdered their son?

                                             ************************

I woke up, which perturbed me, because yesterday I died, I saw the bullet enter my chest, I felt the pain, I had felt a blanket of death drop on me, and I had seen my killers sadness and guilt. How is it possible I’m alive then? Grass no longer keeps me captive and the sun or moon is not looking down on me. In fact, there is nothing around me except an infinity amount of nothingness. A stain of blood on my chest, marks my death, I prod the bullet wound but it doesn’t hurt. What the hell is going on?

“Confused?” A femine voice coo’s behind me, I spin around and face the most beautiful woman ever, her soft, sky blue eyes radiant friendliness but that’s not what settles my trust for her. It’s like she had cast a spell on me, and I know she has, but I tell myself to trust her, that’s all that matters. “Stop gawking, this is not my only form.” She says with an edge of harshness, which is to be accepted, since I’m kind of perving.

“Myra have you told him yet?” An equally beautiful woman asks, appearing beside her, they are identical funnily enough.

“Told me what?” My voice asks, but my brain is distant and I feel like I’m watching the situation.

“You are dead, William, but we can help revive you.” Myra says.

“Why would you want to revive me, and how?” I ask, still feeling distant.

“To be honest, I don’t know why, Jonas never told us.” The other woman answers, she is not as friendly as Myra, and even though their identical, I can see she is not as beautiful. “To revive you, we must rewind time and put you back on Earth to create peace with your killers.”

I’m thoroughly befuddled, maybe this isn’t happening and I’m just drunk off my face, but I don’t have a wrenching headache, or a dry, bile taste in my mouth. So I listen to the two woman as they explain my task and tell me of different consequences.

“Time for my second chance at life then?” I conclude as the two brush up on some finer detail which I’m only half hearing.

“Yes, and it is exactly time now, the spell is at its peak and will only stay so for a minute, good luck William.” Myra says, before the two suddenly vanish like me when modern music plays. All of a sudden I have clear head and the bullet wound is gone, nothing is replaced by the pounding of bass music, the smell of alcohol, sweat and deodorant, and the feeling of people dancing around me. I’m in a dance club, suddenly I remember where I am, groan in annoyance and disappear out the back door because I know what song is coming on next.

Friday Fictioneer’s: Sharp Ends, Part 2

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Sharp Ends Series: /Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/Part 4/ Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

This week I decided not to name my characters, and I have also attempted a little romance, which I have never done before. Hope you enjoy, constructive criticism is welcome!

Sun seeped through the canopy as the forest began to fall away, ahead she saw the last threads of the forest cut by the farm’s fence line.

A man appeared from behind a tree, frightening her with his dazzling smile. She smiled herself, a glow of love flickering in the embers of her hazel eyes. The man drew close and cradled her in a warming hug, resting his chin on her head adoringly.

“Tell me the truth or you’ll go the same way they did.” He suddenly snarled, pulling out a knife and pointing it in the direction of the fence where a bundle of barbed wire hung. Her throat tightened sickeningly, as she remembered using the barbed wire on her victim.

“How did you find out?” She whispered.