Category Archives: Flash Fiction

Old School Gumshoe

crime-scene

“Ticks and tocks of essential time, sink the spirits lower than wine…” 

What did it mean? It was the only thing of substance recovered from the crime scene. This and the bloody remnants of a violent scuffle…but no body. From the width and span of the blood trail that ended at the curb, Sean figured it was a large, heavy person, likely moved from the scene in a vehicle…a van, with easy access to the edge of the sidewalk.

Sean had seen this before. A post-it note and a trail of blood. Attempts were made to identify the victims based on missing persons’ reports and DNA tests, but no matches had been found.

Back at the precinct Sean added the note to the evidence board in his office. He was old school. The younger detectives used computer programs to solve their cases, but Sean liked to see it on the wall, full size. 

This was the third victim in as many weeks. Three cryptic messages. Three trails of blood. The crime scenes were all west of the River, but the locations seemed random.

Sean scanned the messages again.

“Bridges take you here to there…water takes you everywhere.” The first note was found behind the textile warehouse at the edge of town; no bridges or water nearby.

The second message read, “Musical notes melodic and sweet…quench the thirst of savage beasts…” Again the crime scene didn’t have any link to music or…

“Wait! Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t see it before now!” The second scene was located at the dock, a block from the old stone bridge. And this last crime scene was in the alley behind the strip club on Broad Street.

Sean repeated the third message, “ticks and tocks of essential time…ticks and tocks…essential time…clocks, something to do with clocks.” There was a clock tower in the square and another huge clock at the First National Bank. But the second part…sink the spirits lower than wine…a bar? There were no bars near either clock. “Think Sean…sinks the spirits…lower than wine…ticks and tocks…essential time…sinks…spirits…lower…” Sean’s eyes widened, “The clock tower at Shady Grove Cemetery! If this guy tries again, this has to be where he’ll strike!”

Sean enlisted a team of officers to monitor the cemetery. Three nights passed. Nothing. 

On the fourth night, a grey van pulled into the entrance. When it stopped 100 feet from the clock tower, Sean and his team wasted no time moving in. As the driver opened the side door of the van, a woman with hands bound and head covered by a dark pillow case tumbled out. He shoved her toward the clock tower alcove. 

Within seconds the officers had overtaken the killer, disarming him just as he raised a knife to deliver the first blow.

Sean didn’t need a computer to help solve this or any other case. He was old school.

kat ~ 15 January 2016

(498 Words)

A short story for RonovanWrites Friday Fiction Challenge. This week’s challenge: Write a story using the line, “Ticks and tocks of essential time, sink the spirits lower than wine…”  somewhere in the story.  500 words or less. If you would like to read other stories or write your own, click HERE for the link.

 


Stairway to Freedom

PHOTO PROMPT © Amy Reese

The effects of the drug were wearing off.

“Think Angela! That disgusting man will be back soon.”

She scanned the room. There was a filthy cot and there…on the wall, a metal framed photo. Metal!

Angela broke off part of frame and furiously chipped away pieces of the window frame.

Footsteps!

They were getting louder. Her heart was racing as she worked faster, fingers bleeding, when the door behind her crashed open.

“Are you okay ma’am?”

Angela turned in terror and collapsed into the arms of the detective.

kat ~ 14 January 2016
(91 Words / Genre: Suspense)

A flash fiction story for Friday Fictioneers weekly challenge based on the photo above provided by Amy Reese. Thanks to Rochelle Wiseoff-Fields for hosting. Read other stories or enter your own by clicking HERE.

 


…on a Mission

Photo Credit: Etol Bagam

“Are you sure you have the right address? This is an odd place…”

“Yes…I’m sure.”

“How about the date and time. Maybe…”

“Look! Here’s the letter! This is the place. Today’s the day…and we’re right on time! I knew this would be a waste of time!”

“Well, they might just be running late. Let’s give it a few more minutes.”

A door slammed. Minutes later a frail white-haired man shuffled toward them mumbling gibberish to himself. He cocked his head to the side, eying them both.

“Which one o’ you is her? I don’t have all day here.”

“I’m Sarah Morgan. The one who conta…”

“Yeah yeah, well here’s what ya’ came for. Don’t you be blabbin’ about where you got it. I told ya, I don’t want no trouble…ya hear?”

Sarah took the envelope and pressed it to her heart. Inside was the name and address of the couple that adopted her daughter…against her will.

She typed the address into the gps. “Let’s go.”

kat ~ 13 January 2016
(169 Words)

This story is a flash fiction challenge prompted by the photo above by Etol Bagam and provided by my friend PJ at FFfAW (Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers). Read other stories or enter your own by clicking HERE.


Hide and Seek

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Photo Credit: A Mixed Bag – 2016

“…18 Mississippi…19 Mississippi…20 Mississippi. I hate this game.”

Pete slid the barn door open just enough to slip through.

“Ugh! It stinks in here. Buddy, come on…just come out!” Silence.

“Buddy! I’m not kidding. It’s creepy in here! I’m going to count to ten and if you aren’t out by then, I’m leaving.”

“…8…9…10…okay…bye!”

Pete plopped in front of the tv. After several hours, his mom called from the kitchen. “Hey Pete, didn’t you say you were with Buddy today?”

“Yeah…I played with him. That lame game of hide and seek!”

“Well, I just got a call from Buddy’s mom. He hasn’t been home all afternoon. They’re starting to worry. Where did you say you last saw him?”

Pete slumped under a feeling of dread. “We were in the woods by that old barn. He wouldn’t come out, so I came home.”

Hours turned into days, days to weeks. They never found Buddy. It was years before the authorities were finally able to connect Buddy’s disappearance to a pattern of abductions in the area.

…And years before Pete could come to terms with the guilt. He never played hide and seek again.

kat ~ 9 January 2016
(200 words)

Al Forbes has provided the creepy photo above for this weeks Sunday Photo Fiction Challenge.  You can read some of the other stories, or try writing your own by click HERE to visit Al’s page.


Mr. Bones

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Photo Credit: Pixabay.com

“It’s just part time,” Dennie reminded herself. If all went according to plan, the money she earned would one day pay for culinary school.

The anatomy lab creeped her out the most. The students got wind of her aversion to Mr. Bones and often posed him in odd positions. This evening was no different.

Dennie flipped on every light in the anatomy wing and headed toward the lab. As she pushed the mop and bucket through the doorway, there he stood, leaning over a frying pan with what looked like some type of organ…a liver perhaps…clutching a spatula in his boney hand.

After the initial shock, Dennie burst into fits of laughter. Those students had gotten her good this time! How did they know her dream was to be a chef one day?

Warmed by the fact that even in their joking, the students cared about her, Dennie never dreaded cleaning the anatomy lab after that night. She would tell Mr. Bones about her latest recipes. He was a pretty good listener.

kat – 7 January 2016
(174 Words)

This story was prompted by the photo above, provided by my friend P.J. at her blog, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer (FFfAW). If you would like to read other stories based on this prompt, or enter your own story, click HERE.