ALL PART OF THE GAME

It wasn’t fair, Phillips knew, but he had given up any pretence of gentlemanly conduct long ago. Those that played fair ended up dead.

He had watched her enter the apartment and check for anything suspicious. She didn’t spot the concealed microphones planted behind the light fittings.

When he heard the shower turn on, he crossed the street.

Now he crept across the hallway, gun drawn.

A breath to steady himself. In one motion: door flung open; three shots fired through the shower curtain.

Something felt wrong. He pulled the curtain aside. Empty.

A breeze. He turned and saw the open window.


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Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

Other stories featuring the character of the spy Phillips can be found HERE.

SNAKE BITE

‘Put your hand in.’

Charlie hesitated and looked into the dark hole in the rock.

What was the worst that could happen? It’s just a rock, he told himself.

Legend said it was the skull of an old dinosaur. Another said medieval warriors proved their strength by striking it with their sword. Others believed it was linked to witchcraft, a dark portal to a world of spirits and ghouls.

‘Prove you’re not scared.’

Charlie took a deep breath and shoved his hand into the black crater.

The disturbed adder struck the soft flesh and buried its fangs into the invading arm.


ceayr2

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

LEMMINGS

There were six of them now.

Jimmy had been the first. He had been strolling along until he came upon the sign: ‘Sidewalk Closed – Please Use Other Side.’

The sidewalk appeared to be passable, but the sign told him otherwise.

Jimmy had waited for a break in the traffic. It was an eight-lane highway. Cars and trucks shot passed at ferocious speeds. He’d managed to get two lanes out before an artic sent him scurrying back.

Angie had been the next to join him, then Cassandra, Bill, Jason and Siobhan.

They took it in turns to dart out into the road, walking, pausing, sprinting – then turning and retreating. Cassandra had made it halfway, but a succession of buses brought her back.

Jimmy finally gave up. He looked at the closed sidewalk and strode past the indignant sign.

He got five paces before the ground began to fall away. A massive sink hole opened up and swallowed him. The hole spread across the road. Two cars failed to stop and crashed over the edge.

The dust settled. The traffic was blocked. Angie, Cassandra, Bill, Jason and Siobhan crossed over to the other sidewalk and carried on their way.


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Copyright J. Hardy Carroll

Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Al Forbes. For more details visit HERE.

To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

STORM DAMAGE

The boxes of her water-damaged possessions took up three-quarters of the hotel room.

Until the destruction caused by Hurricane Matthew was repaired this was her home. The restoration firm said they would gain access next week. Until then, all she could do was sit and wait.

The flowers of condolence sat on the table. They stared at her, a constant reminder.

Bill was missing presumed dead, a victim of the storm.

She prayed that the cement in the cellar had dried in time and held once the water receded.


flowers-and-packing-boxes-dale-r
Copyright Dale Rogerson

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

CONNECTION

He found the phone booth that would provide a secure landline connection.

He punched in the number. Two rings and a click.

‘Danny?’ Her voice was tired.

‘Did you do it?’ he asked. He pictured the blood-spattered body.

‘I had orders.’

‘I have to come after you.’

‘I’ll guess I’ll be seeing you.’ The line went dead.

Danny slammed the receiver down. She had promised she was finished.

He walked back to the apartment and turned on his smartphone. His location would be revealed immediately, the microphone would be recording. He dialled the office.

‘Detective Thompson. Senator Carmichael is dead.’


phone-booth-jhc
Copyright J Hardy Carroll

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

Although this stands alone as a piece of intrigue, in my mind it is a sort of sequel to a previous Friday Fictioneers story which you can find here: HAPPY NEW YEAR.

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.