This is a short fiction I wrote for a Uni subject I completed a while back. Enjoy! Cheers Steve 🙂 Divides. By Stephen Thompson. My mother is dusting. The feather duster she uses swishes lightly over the mementoes and photo … Continue reading Divides. A flash fiction.
The Sale was an unplanned, episodic story I wrote for my blog over a six-month period. Following is a complete list of every episode, so you can read in order from the beginning. Enjoy! Steve 😊 Part 1 – The … Continue reading The Sale. Every Episode!
The police lights twirled, casting brightly coloured fireflies against the mansion walls. Police wandered back and forth from the house. Everywhere you looked was yellow crime scene tape, cordoning off the building and grounds into their own little worlds where … Continue reading The Sale. Part 20. The Final Instalment.
The revolver was shaking in Silas’s hand as he pressed it against my skull. Water streamed down his face, mingling with his tears. I closed my eyes tightly. I could hear a rush of breath escape Aisha’s lips. The hammer … Continue reading The Sale. Part 19.
Junifer Vasilikov limped closer. In the moonlight we could make out a ghastly, bloody smear covering her features. Her hands were empty. “My mother was killed by a vacuum cleaner,” she said, wearily. Aisha leapt to her feet, knife at … Continue reading The Sale. Part 18.
The climb down was a blur of motion and fear. The air was musty, mouldy and laced with the smell of our sweat-soaked and angst-ridden bodies. At the bottom of the ladder, we stood before the exit panel to the … Continue reading The Sale. Part 17.
At the top of the stairs, another corridor: four sets of doors, two on each side. Aisha smiled grimly. “I know this part of the house. The bedroom I hid in is the last door on the left.” “The secret … Continue reading The Sale. Part 16.
Aisha and I swore simultaneously. Silas gestured to his slavering doberman, straining at the chain he held. “This is Goering,” he said. “I think he would like to make your acquaintance.” He unleashed the beast and it catapulted down the … Continue reading The Sale. Part 15.
My fingertips were worn from scraping constantly against the inner wall, tracing our way through the maze. The electric bulbs in the stone and earth ceiling flickered dimly and our shadows gently danced on the surrounding walls as we stumbled … Continue reading The Sale. Part 14.
She waited as he wasted away. She watched and pined. He watched as well; sometimes TV, sometimes her. She fed him hand-to-mouth. Eventually he refused to eat. As he grew thinner, the drip in his arm pulsed like a marathon … Continue reading The Wait. A short tale.
As Aisha and I ran down the underground corridor, squinting in the dim light, we heard a voice crackling from an old wooden speaker box on the wall. It was Silas. “You can’t escape you know.” We darted to the … Continue reading The Sale. Part 13.
My hands were in the air and so was the rock-solid Maglite flashlight. Silas was watching the Mexican standoff in the store room where crazy woman Junifer had confronted Aisha. I threw the torch as hard as I could. It … Continue reading The Sale. Part 12.
Aisha froze and dropped her phone. The screen cracked on the concrete floor as it bounced at her feet. Across the large, concrete-walled room was Silas, the aged and insensitively tall butler. He was no longer dressed in his servant togs, having changed to a white lab coat and matching trousers, and accessorising with a .38 snub-nosed revolver. Pointing right at Aisha. Being only partly cowardly, I rushed in front to shield her. Having done so I realised perhaps it wasn’t the wisest course of action. My eyes widened. “What the…” “Indeed, John,” said Silas, smiling like a James Bond villain. … Continue reading The Sale. Part 11. A short series.
Climbing down the ladder we came to the ground floor, with the passage leading to the pantry. “Should we stop here?” said Aisha, taking the iPhone out of her mouth and shining the torch light up the dingy corridor. “I really think we need to check out the basement.” I tapped my foot impatiently on the rung above her head. “We don’t know if Crazy Junifer is waiting in the kitchen.” Aisha looked up at me and frowned. “She could be anywhere.” “Can we just get going? The faster we get to the basement the faster we can get out … Continue reading The Sale. Part 10. A short series.
We made it to the floor access. The iPhone torch light reflected off the shiny ladder, floating dust motes and hanging cobwebs. “We’re going down there?” said Aisha. Her face wrinkled in dismay. “I don’t know. It’s bad enough I’m in a dark passage with some stranger…” I slapped my forehead. “Oh, sorry. I’m John. Forgot to introduce myself.” “That’s because you were too busy screaming like a little old lady.” “Yes, well we can’t all be heroes, can we?” “You’re also a hog.” She snatched the cellphone away and shone its light down the ladder recess. “So we have … Continue reading The Sale. Part 9. A short series.
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