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October Flash Challenge: The stories

PostPosted: October 20, 2018, 06:50:42 PM
by Wormtongue
The management accepts no responsibility for nightmares.

The infamous serial fuc**r...

PostPosted: October 20, 2018, 06:51:52 PM
by Wormtongue
The infamous serial fuc**r...

by Sergio "Ente per Ente' Palumbo

It was already after ten when Gonzalo left his 10-year-old twins at the home of the Hughes family where a Halloween party was being held. The two wore costumes that had been bought at a local shop that was famous for selling the best party clothes in town. One child was dressed as a character from a horror movie called ‘The cabin in the Woods…in Space!’, while the other costume was from a well-known Web Series, The 870. Not that Gonzalo ever watched such shows, as he preferred to attend to other entertainments when he had free time, of course.

As the man left the Hughes home, he thought about the last time he was there. That day, it hadn’t been for a party, but to meet with Allyson, his friend’s wife. He remembered that they had enjoyed a very satisfying evening together, as his friend Thomas Hughes was away on business and so the two had spent the entire night talking, drinking, and of course, having sex. It seemed that woman didn’t miss any opportunity to betray her husband with whatever man she set her sights on.

Actually, Gonzalo preferred to think of himself as the pursuer, the one who induced other men’s wives to sleep with him. In fact, he called himself a serial fuc**r, as he didn’t miss a chance to have sex with any wife of one of his many friends, provided that those women, too, saw sex as merely a casual activity. So far, there hadn’t been one of his friend’s wives who had rejected him…

It was while he was walking back to his car, parked near the woods nearby, that he thought he spotted a dark figure that stood in the middle of the road. He hoped that it wasn’t another one of those bothersome locals who donned their second-rate costumes and played tricks on passers-by…

When the man tried to change his route, he heard a voice.


For a moment he remained in silence, being very surprised. But he knew that tone. “Manuela, is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me,” the figure replied immediately.

Gonzalo began to search his memory. Manuela was the wife of one of his old friends, a policeman. He had relentlessly pursued her, enticing her to betray her husband and have sex with him. After all, wasn’t he a serial fuc**r? “It’s been a very long time. Whatever happened to you?”

“Many things happened after our encounter,” the chestnut-haired woman uttered in a low voice.

“What kind of things, Manuela?” Gonzalo asked her.

“I committed suicide.”

“What?” the man looked uncertain. “Manuela, did you try to kill yourself?”

“No,” the other answered. “I did kill myself.”

“What are you talking about? How could have you have killed yourself when you’re here now, before me? Have you lost your mind, Manuela? Did you go mad after our liaison?”

“No, Gonzalo. Truly, after my husband discovered my betrayal, he took his gun and killed our young daughter before pointing it to his head and killing himself. And it happened because you boasted to your friends that we had an affair and somebody told my husband.”

“I never forced you to have sex with me, Manuela. I’m sorry about what your dead husband did and also about your daughter. But you haven’t told me yet what happened to you after that heartbreaking turn of events. I never heard from you again.”

“After I saw both my daughter and my husband dead at home, I start running into the woods. I kept thinking that it was because of me, of my behavior, that my husband went mad. I can’t forgive him, of course, but part of the blame falls on me too.”

“No, actually I don’t think you caused it. Only your husband was the mad one that day…” he insisted in a low voice.

“I stayed in these woods for hours, before deciding to put an end to my life,” the other added.

“What? This can’t be, my dear. You’re standing in front of me…” Gonzalo looked uncertain.

“Nobody found my body as I lay dead in the undergrowth for days, but eventually my remains were spotted by a witch who used them to do some bloody jobs. Then she threw what was left of me away, never to be found again.”

“Then how are you here now?”

“I’m not. This is Halloween, the one night a year when the souls of the dead can return from the afterlife and enter the world of the living.”

At that moment, a terrified Gonzalo stepped backwards. The light of the Moon revealed the very pale traits of the ghost. “Are you here to kill me?” he demanded. “Do you want to get your revenge?”

“No, differently from what you think, I really was in love with you when I chose to betray my husband. I’m not the one you should be afraid of tonight.”

“What are you saying?”

“I wanted to see you again, even though I’m dead. But there’s somebody else who wanted to see you too. He followed my steps into this world of the living tonight, and now he has found you. You know, probably is because of these woods…they seem to be alive tonight…”

“Who else came?”

“My husband. Your betrayed friend. He followed me to find you.”

At that phrase, the man heard some strange noises at his back, and turned slowly. It was then that he saw the long-dead policeman, with a look of wild hatred in his empty eyes. The soul moved his bloody hands towards him, refusing to stop.

Gonzalo’s subsequent desperate cries were covered by the branches of the several trees nearby that seemed to come alive, moving together, unbelievably swallowing him all at once, along with the same two ghastly figures. And Gonzalo was gone with them, never to be seen again in the darkness of that long night, when the woods turned quiet again…

Re: October Flash Challenge: The stories

PostPosted: October 20, 2018, 06:53:33 PM
by Wormtongue
Dark Forces (or just another fairytale of magic…)

By Robin B. Lipinski

Kenya. The country of magic and blackness. Home to the best foot runners in the world. Combine running, magic, and blackness… you set the ingredients for the perfect recipe of illusion.

Never before in the history of America has a woman or a man of color become President. That is, until that perfect day in January 2007, when a sprig of the root from the marriage of the mururi and mukurwe tree was burned to ash and the ash then mixed with the vomit of a lioness giving birth to her first cub.

From out of nowhere, Obama took center stage in the world of mankind. His body taking form and power from the minds of those seeking a new Spirit.

What is man if not flesh and bone? Such a question of nonsense from those who choose not to believe in the powers of dark magic. Dangerous true but no more dangerous than the white magik of the Irish swamps now far placed from the sight of mankind.

“Sir, your 9:00am meeting is here.” An aide to the President said to a figure sitting in the Oval office. A figure changing forms before their very eyes. This aide would soon die a horrible death on a day known as, Halloween in 2010.

“Yes. Yes. Thank you,” the form known as President would say every Halloween to the new aide telling the form that the person was there for the 9:00am meeting. An aide that then would soon perish of ‘natural causes’.

Bali Penyalong, a god not to be fooled with, was the answer for an old woman in Kenya who could never bear a child. This woman slaughtered many pigs to Bali and return, Bali answered her call.

In the modern world of civilization, far from the shores of Kenya, people no longer sacrificed or offered offerings to the gods. To this, Bali Penyalong grew angry. His anger was the release of what the old woman in Kenya had wanted… a spirit now known as President of the United States.

Bali was a trickster of a god, a master of war and division. As such the god reaped the benefits of the creation of the President. It was good. As for payment, the various sacrifices the President made every Halloween was sufficient. The god was happy.

Time flows in many directions. For humans, it only flows one way and soon the days of President Obama were over. The days of division, war of words, and the tricks played upon the world were over. Even the slaughter of sacrifice had stopped. Bali became very angry. When a god of war becomes angry, things happen.

“Down with Trump! Down with Trump!” The crowds howled in anger. The crowds that indirectly worshipped Bali and his creation. To this, Bali was pleased but not fully satisfied.

The old President had been out of office for two years now. There was a change in the land as new magik by other gods were let loose upon the world. Gods of various beliefs and power. To this, Bali’s anger grew and with a storm, he set into motion, a new plan.

Power of his creation in the old President has run it’s course. Obama no longer could perform the ultimate sacrifice, but Bali had found one who could…

“I hate Republicans. I hate the President. I hate this country. I wish all those old white men would die.” So many out in the world of magic and magik that embraced the words whispered into their ears by the old spirits of the old worlds. For Bali, he whispered into one very special persons ears, a command that must be followed.

2018. Numbers combined to show the year humanity lived in. It was the year an angry disciple of Bali grew in power. Recently, President Trump had experienced success after success. A booming economy. New Supreme Court Justices, an energized country of cheering. All this only added to the blackness in the hearts of many.

On Halloween, 2018, the White House held a party for those of many beliefs. One of those attending was there, not for the festivity, but for the sacrifice Bali Penyalong demanded and had whispered in the assassins ear… There would be a slaughter the world would forever remember and even the gods themselves, would tremble.

A Walk on an October Night

PostPosted: October 20, 2018, 06:54:45 PM
by Wormtongue
A Walk on an October Night

By Megawatts

On a cool-crisp full moon night in late October with a slight breeze flirting with my hair, and the sounds of a Harley hammering down the street, I trekked over to Kayla’s house. Her parents like me. When her mom said my name Bryan, it sounded so sweet to me. I liked them mostly because of the large-paneled game room in the basement with a pool table. Video games lined the walls, many older ones from the 1980s, but most new and waiting for me it seemed. They also had one of the largest big-screen TVs I ever watched.

When I got to Kayla’s, I said, “Let’s take a walk. I really don’t feel like playing any games tonight. Besides, the full moon’s out and it’s easy to see ----we can look at all the Halloween decorations.”

“Sounds like a good idea—I have to give Tammy her novel back anyway,” Kayla said.

“Good,” I said.

“Mom, I going out for a while,” Kayla said.

Kayla flew up the stairs and bounced-back down in a instant with a book and sweater.

“This novel sucked! Nothing in it except ‘I love you so much’ and ‘Yes, we were meant for each other.’ Over and over again the same crap,” Kayla said.

“Well, you know that Tammy is one-hell-of-a drama queen. When she says ‘hello’ it’s drama,” I said.

“Yeah, she’s always been that way. In sixth grade she screamed and ran around the class room thinking that spider bit her. As it turned out, a small speck of red tape was on her arm,” Kayla said.

We both laughed about that one, and Kayla told me more stories about Tammy. They were best friends along with Cindy and Tonya and Jeanie Mires since about kindergarten.

We walked down Popular street. The sun sank behind Shady Side Park which caused long shadows to watch us and follow. On every other lawn a scarecrow, pumpkins large and small, some porches had white sheets dressed as ghosts while others had brooms hanging up with a witch in the driver seat. We passed one lawn that had a gigantic spider enjoying the evening as it’s yellow LED eyes smiled at us. I really liked that one.

A cool October breeze walked with us but fortunately Kayla’s mom made her put on a sweater, she wasn’t cold. Kayla stopped at the next house after the spider. Another scarecrow? Kayla studied it then said, “We passed by that scarecrow before—back two block. I’m sure we did.”

“They probably bought it at the same store,” I said.


Kayla started walking and I had to catch up with her. It was almost completely dark now, and not a car or truck was on Popular street. “You know when you cousin caught that pass last Friday night . . . ,” I stared to say.


“Kayla grabbed my arm and I spun around. Another scarecrow just like the ones before was staring at us. However, this one had a sign around its neck that said: HI KAYLA–YOU’RE MY KIND OF GIRL.

Shadows crawled along the sidewalks and front yards and a crow silhouetted itself with the moon. . Kayla grabbed my arm and pulled me. Before I know it we were running toward Tammy’s house looking back and frantically watching every scarecrow–and there were many the front yards.

Kayla stopped and I ran into her almost knocking her down—I grabbed her by the arm helping her keep her balance.

“Look at that scarecrow------------it’s, it’s hopping up the street!” Kayla screamed.

Yes it was! Like a pogo stick! And it was heading toward us with a sign hanging around it neck like the other one. Why I could read it at night time I sure as hell didn’t know, but it said: I WANT YOU AND KAYLA TO COME PARTY WITH US! IT WILL BE FUN!

Kayla screamed and started to run. She dropped her book. I followed her but kept turning around an watching the pogo-stick scarecrow hop. It stopped, picked up the book, looked it over for a second then started following us and —other scarecrows from the lawn of houses we passed joined in hopping behind the first!

“Run!” I screamed, and Kayla took off. I turned around and about ten scarecrows all that looked alike were hopping toward us and if not mistaken—smiling! We just about reached Tammy’s when . . . .


My senior year. Thank God I made an A in my junior year English class for without an A I couldn’t have taken this senior year creative writing class. I love writing these Halloween stories and Kayla who sits two desks up from me enjoy the ones I write. I got her in this one, but I won’t tell her about it yet. She seems to have EPS or some other mental ability for she always knows what I’m thinking! She prefers love stories—they’re okay but not my thing unless some monsters or alien is involved!

“Coming over tonight?” Kayla asked when class was over.

“Sure,” I said. “ I don’t have much home work and I got my story finished for tomorrow’s Halloween day reading.

“When you come over tonight, let’s take a walk and look at all the scarecrows and other Halloween decorations,” Layla said.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Maybe a big spider will look at us—who knows,” Kayla said . She moved her head slightly to one side.

“Maybe,” I answered with a slight frown creeping over my forehead.

“What if the scarecrows decide to chase us? Wouldn’t that be something. I would really run and scream,” Kayla said.

Kayla couldn’t have read my story because I wrote it out in long hand in my notebook! The notebook under my arm and she wouldn’t of had time!

With a twinkle in her eyes and a slight smile she said, “Maybe they will chase after us!”


PostPosted: October 20, 2018, 06:56:20 PM
by Wormtongue

By Michelle Dutcher

Nora Cooper, the girl scout leader, was tall and rod-thin and old – so different from the energized children around her. She approached one of the tiny girls – 6 and 7 year olds – tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention.

“Diane, you’re next. Time to get your picture made.”

“But I’m having fun,” the girl in the Brownie uniform and cap told her.

“You can come right back, but my husband is taking photos of all the Brownies this year. Your mother would be disappointed if you didn’t get one made.”

The tiny girl shrugged. “Can I take Beanie with me?”


“Yes, my friend Beanie – he always comes too.” Diane motioned beside her to show the woman where Beanie was.

“Sure, sure,” Nora chuckled. “Beanie can come too.” She motioned for Judy, her daughter, to come over. “Judy, take Diane around back to get her picture taken,” and Judy did exactly that.

The house itself was a two-bedroom white-washed structure, run-down and the shed around back was even more derelict. The door squeaked as Judy opened it and the two Brownies stepped inside. It was dark – except for a bright light shining on a small stage, obviously ready for taking photos. There were two men sitting in the dark among the dust and mold of tools and motor parts.

“Hey, daddy, this is Diane,” Judy told the large man.

“Come on in, Diane,” bellowed Milton, a large man dressed in a dirty white tee-shirt and jeans. “Judy, tell your mama we’ll send her back in directly.”

“Don’t let Beanie out,” Diane shouted as Judy opened the door to leave.

“Okay, okay!” laughed Judy. “It’s her imaginary friend,” she told her dad and brother as she hurried out.

Milton looked at the small child. “Well jump up here on the stage, sweetie. This won’t take long.”

Diane stepped onto the stage. The light was so bright it was hard to see anything in the shed – but she could see the men were drinking a yellow drink that smelled bad. “What is that?” she asked them.

“On this? This is beer,” said Milton, laughing with his son.

“What is that floating in it?”

“Barley,” answered Milton. “Now, straighten up and smile.” There was a flash of lights, which blinded Diane.

“Beanie doesn’t like the lights,” Diane told the men.

“Just a couple more shots – to make sure we have a good photo,” said Milton. Then he hesitated. “Charley, could you help her with her dress?”

“What’s wrong with my dress?”

The young man, the son, came out of the dark and began to unbutton the child’s dress. “Your dress isn’t straight. You want to look good, don’t you…for the Brownie picture. Don’t be afraid, sweetie, this will all be over soon.”

“Beanie doesn’t like you touching me…” said Diane.

“Your invisible friend won’t mind. What a pretty slip you have on.” The lights flashed bright as Milton took another photo.

“Beanie says to stop that.”

Diane could feel hands raising her dress up to her waist. “I told you to stop. Beanie is getting angry.”

There was a flash of lights as the men laughed.

“Do you hear something growling?” asked Milton suddenly.

“Yeah,” said Charlie, dropping the Brownie’s dress. “Are one of the dogs in here?”

“That’s Beanie,” said Diane. “I told you he was getting mad at you, but you wouldn't listen.” She started buttoning her dress, stepping down from the stage. As she hurried from the shed she stopped for a moment as she passed through the door. “I’ll leave the door open for you Beanie. Come home soon.”

Inside the shed the men talked excitedly. “Wow that was some creepy little girl. All that imaginary friend stuff – she’s an odd one…where is that growling coming from…”

Diane was glad to find her mom waiting for her on the porch of the tiny, run-down house around front.

“I came a little early to pick you up. We need to take your brother to gymnastics,” Diane’s mother said. “Where were you? Why weren’t you inside with the rest of the girls?”

“Judy’s dad and brother were taking pictures of us out back,” said the tiny child. “Beanie is still out there.”

“You and Beanie…best friends forever right.” The woman chuckled a little at the thought of her daughter’s imaginary friend. But as she looked her daughter over she noticed something was amiss. “Diane, why are your buttons all messed up?” Her mother began to button them back up when she stopped for a moment, standing up straight. “Is that screaming?” she said. “It sounds like it’s coming from out back.” By that time all the girls and the scout leader were running around back as the screams of horror from the girls mixed with the screams of terror from what was left of the two men.

“I told them Beanie was mad,” said Diane, her fist pounding into her left hand as she walked towards their car. “Adults just don’t listen.”

All Hallows

PostPosted: October 20, 2018, 06:57:51 PM
by Wormtongue
All Hallows

by Jontrue

I sit here in the dark, silent, contemplating my final hours. It’s been a year, a whole year, since my beloved’s death. Death not accidental, not by disease or age, but by her own hand. On this day, the day of All Hallows' Eve. On this sacred night, the dead are known to cross over, to intermingle with the living, to once again entwine with life and bemoan their existence.

This last year has surely been a greater burden than any mortal could endure. Life was too much for her. The burning torment of her fractured soul. A violent night that forever changed her, stole her virtue and crushed her spirit. In a time long before we ever met, caught in relentless turmoil. For her — death was sweet release, and now I must follow her into the darkness, follow her into that pale beyond.

In my hands, I desperately grasp the last remains of my love, affectionately, tenderly, caressing the husk that she left behind. Her firm bosom once soft and warm in my hands, now lay cold and leathery, cracking under my fingertips. Wait for me my love, we will be together again. On this night, we will be reunited. My heart breaks for both of us. I know your pain has been extinguished with your heartbeat. With the slowing of your pulse, your woes too were removed. Soon, shall I be, too.

We were once happy, or so I thought. Underneath it all, underneath your diversion of love and passion, lay the ever-raging turmoil. Your smile was just a mask; tears of joy were tears of pain you could never outrun, not even in my arms. Your sorrow perpetually consumed you as the flies ache to consume you now.

My true love, I have been ever vigilant, even in my deepest sorrow and regret. Never have I let a day go by without you in my heart and in my hand. The vows we made to each other, I still honor. “‘Till death do us part,” was far too soon for me. My heart will burn for you even as my carcass turns cold.

Here in my arms, I protect the body you shared with me. Minutes consume the time until we are reunited. I have swallowed the pungent nectar that will bring us together. Our final resting place is in each other's embrace. I long to feel your arms cradle me, and your legs wrap around me once more. Seconds countdown, and time grows slower still, until time’s sting is meaningless, just as life is meaningless without your intoxicating kiss. Your corpse’s dried lips are not the same, pulled back with teeth exposed. No matter how I try to remember the woman you were, the luscious smell that once lingered in my bed has been replaced by the stench of decay. Those gentle sad eyes that once gazed lovingly at me have long since sunken in and vanished.

Once again, I climb into bed, both of us the way we came into this world. I cling to the shell you left behind and wait for the poison to overtake me. Bring me to the twilight where I pray you to wait. Tears roll down my face as they once did yours when you could no longer confront another day. I weep not for myself nor the end to this wretched life: I weep for you. I swallow my regret whole, the thick lump in my throat refusing to submit, and I cry into your hair. As my time draws nearer, I can almost feel you beside me.

Swiftly touch my soul; please don’t let me wander without you in the abyss; I have been so alone and scared without you. Guide me like a compass: our hearts are drawn together by the gravity of our boundless love. I long for you, my one true soulmate. I have waited so long for us to be reunited. I have waited for this night, All Hallows' Eve, so you can be with me and assist my crossing. I know you have waited for me. I hope you can feel how devoted I have been to you.

Sweet Poison, release me from these mortal coils. Help me draw breath no longer, for I cannot cease on my own. My deplorable weakness has been my jailer: falsely imprisoning me in this living tomb.

For weeks after you left me, my love, I tried to stop eating, drinking, living. My biology betrayed me. The base need to continue beyond all will or hope won out. I realized the only way to ensure we would find each other again was to wait for you to come for me. On this special night, I know you have. Your song rings in my ears now. That melody I have long since forgotten. I can hear you humming once more, and I know you are near.

Whatever hell or torture waits for me now, I know we will endure it together and thus make pleasure of pain. If the universe has any redeeming qualities, we will not be punished for our untimely demise but be rewarded for the uncompromising sincerity of our hearts. You left first; although, I know you were not running from me, but from the demons of your past. The ones I tried for so long to protect you from. I am so sorry. I was not strong enough to take that burden from you. All I ever wanted was to ease your pain, but I could not tip the scales of your suffering, not enough. Your demons were always waiting in the quiet hours of the night.

I can only hope that now the world is behind us, we can start anew. You will be my beloved, and I will be yours. Together we will become a star: blazing in the heavens. Our souls intertwined forever fueling a furnace that will shine for all time, a star born this All Hallows’ Eve.

Re: October Flash Challenge: The stories

PostPosted: October 22, 2018, 08:09:06 AM
by ente per ente
My vote is,eh :D

Re: October Flash Challenge: The stories

PostPosted: October 22, 2018, 08:39:00 AM
by Megawatts
Got my vote in today!

Re: October Flash Challenge: The stories

PostPosted: October 31, 2018, 11:28:20 AM
by kailhofer
So, who were our authors/winners this time?

Re: October Flash Challenge: The stories

PostPosted: October 31, 2018, 02:28:52 PM
by Lester Curtis
Sorry I'm late ... got a vote in anyway, whether it gets counted or not.

Re: October Flash Challenge: The stories

PostPosted: October 31, 2018, 09:08:16 PM
by kailhofer
When does the poll expire? I can't see that after I voted.

Re: October Flash Challenge: The stories

PostPosted: November 01, 2018, 04:48:24 AM
by Wormtongue
kailhofer wrote:So, who were our authors/winners this time?

Have a look here: viewtopic.php?f=48&t=14108