flash fiction

Three million ways to die and none of them were in stock. Death sighed. Suppliers were all the same. If it wasn’t in stock it was on order, if it wasn’t on order it had been discontinued, if it was discontinued it was in the sale and if it wasn’t on sale, they had sold the last one to the guy who came in five minutes before you.

Pity they had some classics. Death by a roller-skating hamster and Death by rabid chiwawa, both top sellers but the best by far, Death by a slipped finger when picking the nose.

The chocolate monster burped loudly, then promptly apologized. Mary was unimpressed. So was the waiter who found himself laid out on the floor three feet from where he had been standing serving the vegetables.

“You had one of your garlic sandwiches before we came out didn’t you?”

Charley the chocolate monster knew he was in trouble. He pouted his lips, blew a seductive kiss across the table, which bounced off Mary’s lips only to smack Charley in the face.

“You had better explain yourself Mr”, said Mary

Charley turned to the shocked Emily to explain her date Dracula’s sudden disappearance.

Garry the Gremlin was having a bad day. The old lady’s television had refused to die or tune into a porn channel when he played with the wires, instead it had given him an afro in regions his wife and doctor only got to see.

It didn’t end there.

The lady had mistook him for her cat and somehow had managed to sneak up on him before dousing him in three tons of flea powder while telling him how pretty and good he was. That had wrecked his Armani suit.

He just hoped he could escape before the cat returned.

Raymond Edge was dead. Normally this would be problem but not for Raymond, he was going to climb the career ladder and earn the big money if it killed him.

Raymond thought for a moment. Nationality? He had no idea. After further thought he scrawled in slow infant like handwriting the word ZOMBIE.

He groaned satisfied causing the receptionist to reach to her left, which was followed by the click of a shotgun under the desk and a rather forced smile.

Raymond hoped he got the job; he needed a change and he quite fancied being the office tea lady.

Mike tried to remain calm. He had been in situations similar before but this time was different. He had got suckered by the lady luck at his table who worked for the casino and persuaded him to spill the secret of his winning streak with a blowjob on the way to her room, which turned out to be a shakedown room of a different type.

There was one last game he had to play.

Trousers around his ankles, Mike placed his bet and watched intently. The gorilla in a suit tossed the coin into the air. Hammer roulette was underway.

She was in danger. Real danger. She had run as fast as she could but it wasn’t enough. He was still following her. He was somewhere behind her or maybe on the left in the shadows. Was that movement? There? She couldn’t be sure. Maybe she could get away if she kept going? Keep going! Maybe she would run into someone, an unlikely hero or maybe even a cop alerted by her screams. Could she run any further?

The killer sprang from nowhere, butchers knife brandished aloft still bloodstained and Lucy jumped out her skin. God she hated horror films.

A wooden stake and hammer, Michael looked at them for a moment partly in disbelief, was the old man right?

He looked towards the woman sleeping on the bed. She didn’t look like a vampire but then what was she doing in a basement where the windows had been covered with thick cloth.

Michael glanced back to the old man who nodded encouragingly.

Got to be quiet. Michael moved forward silently in the eerie silence. Got to get this right, he thought, breathing slowly.

On the bed Josie slept unaware her deluded stalker was at the side of her bed.

Deceit was all about smiling at the right time.

Jane smiled and ran her fingers through he long wavy hair before laughing warmly. She could almost see him get hard. Men, all the same, led by the dick, all you had to do was get it’s attention. Predictable.

She wondered if he would stop falling over his tongue and ask her out.

They were almost done.

“Thanks”, said Jane, putting the credit card back in her purse before popping the receipt into one of the bags. Shopping was always the highlight of the day particularly with someone else’s credit cards.

A master plan was required. Something devilishly bad. Draknek, The Wizard of Castle Doom paced the granite floor of the great hallway. But what? Google had given two hundred and twenty three thousand results before fluttering her eyes, blowing kisses at him and suggesting he flick off the safe search. Google was dam floozy under that nuns habit, thought Draknek.

He frowned deep in thought. Then it hit him. Perfect!

Draknek was going to get his revenge on the White Witch for stealing his beloved golf clubs and selling them on ebay.

Hairy palmed fleas in her lingerie it was.

”Well if you want to fall over and break your neck that’s up to you but don’t say I didn’t tell you sonny!”, said the old man waving a crooked finger.

Death glanced down mystified. Shoes? Death raised a head to catch the old man escaping in his immobility scooter.

The old man pushed it to ten miles and hour, he could almost feel the wind around his ears and in his eyebrows, “ You won’t get me!”, he screamed.

“Next left”, Death said in his ear.

Defiantly the old man took the next right, straight into an oncoming lorry.