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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Flash Fiction: Under a Dead Sun

Episode 13

Barry Crouch watched as the stranger ripped into Boothe's throat, his clawed hands tearing into his chest and stomach. He could hear the slurping and crunching of blood and bone as the man worked into the barkeep's neck. Barry was still watching as his partner Deke reached for his pistol, an old long barreled Navy revolver, and cracked two shots into the stranger's back.

The man spun from Boothe, his face covered in blood and flesh, gore running down his mouth. He advanced towards Deke, seeming impervous to the bullet wounds in his back. Deke grabbed a wicked Bowie knife from the sheathe on his hip. The stranger continued towards him, raising his pointed fingers. Deke darted forward and jammed the sharp blade into it's stomach, letting out a horrible roar as he twisted the blade back and forth.

"TAKE THAT YOU SONUVABITCH!"

Still the man seemed to not notice, taking the oppertunity in close to gouge out Deke's eyes, dark blood spurting over it's face. Deke let out a scream, releasing the knife. The creature drew it's claws again, across Deke's throat, the scream dying to a slow gurgle. He began to feed upon Deke, as Barry sat there, unable to move.

That's when it saw Katee in the doorway.


End of Line.
Gerrad!

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