We are God ~ Flash Fiction

November 6th, 2012 by Theresa

Shots echoed in the onset of night.  Arguing voices stilled in the jungle clearing. The teleportation trip for the newbies always messed them up. The Earth they knew was long gone. Humans had to survive somehow – even without their consent.

“Listen up!”  Connor yelled. “Don’t matter who had the most money, influence or whatever.  I don’t give a rats ass who had what!  You want to live?  This petty shit has to stop right now!”  He put the safety back on rifle and slung it back over his shoulder by the strap.  Glaring at everyone in the group,he picked up his pack and moved up the trail.

Following, I knew my place.I knew how to stay alive.

“Just who the hell do you think you are?” sniped a man still in his slick suit.The aliens better be right about his superb DNA chain. Otherwise, I’d kill him myself.

“Connor got zapped to this place just like you three years ago,” I offered. “Good thing for us he’s SAS and his entire ammo bunker came with him.  He’s got the combat knowledge and fire power to stay alive.  I’ve been here two years. I’m a hiker and survivalist. I know what to eat, where to sleep and can tell when the animals in this jungle are on the prowl.”

I picked up Connor’s trail and headed back to our camp.

“We’re your best chance for survival,” I called back. “As far as I’m concerned, we are God.”

 

As appeared on Thursday Threads with Siobhan Muir

http://siobhanmuir.blogspot.ca/2012/11/thursthreads-challenge-that-ties-tales.html

Flash Fiction ~ Real Justice

September 5th, 2012 by Theresa

Freddie watched his captive struggle. Muffled screams barely escaped the thin man’s duct taped mouth.  Unrolling the canvas revealed Freddie’s current tools – very familiar tools. He just smiled as his victim’s eyes went wide.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Freddie said stiffly as he put on his latex gloves. “I know for a fact that you know these instruments very well. After all, you killed four people with them.”

Freddie picked up the closest pair of rusted pincers and grinned. “Those four people were my only family. Let’s start with the pincers, shall we?  Right hand or left?”

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