Flashes of Sanity has changed name to Above Heaven, Below Hell! I am changeing the name because it is not flash fiction. It is a whole story with chapters!
Four times a week, a chapter of 500 words or less will be published. Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday.
I would love to know my readers more! So, I’ll be having a question of the week from now on!
This weeks question: who is your favorite character in this little universe? Tell me in the comments! (It’s okay if there are more than one ;))
Today’s entry: Guard Tower
Candle lights flickered as the once fully functional office went into night mode. Matrasses laid on the floor. It was the most comfortable bed Cassandra had laid on in what felt like years.
“Cass’?” She heard Kara whisper from the shadows.
“I would like to bring the one that killed me in.”
Cassandra sat herself up. “Yes, we should do that. Do you want me to come with you?”
“Then we will go tomorrow.” Cassandra laid down again and looked up the ceiling. The moonlight wandered across it. This was the first time she ever saw the white light from the moon enter the office, she realized. It had always been streetlight or office lamps.
“Could I also use one of the meeting rooms for talking to the other victims?”
“Like group counseling?” Cassandra let the thought wander between her neurons for a moment. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t. How many are there?”
“About ten I think, but I never counted them.”
“Take the owl then.”
Echoing steps from the stairway interrupted their discussion. Both turned towards the door. Brink slammed the door open. A man fought to get free in his arms. Hang was just half a step behind.
“We found one,” he said. “The bastard came running when we caught him. He held this.”
Cassandra got up on her feet. She glanced at the red liquid. Blood.
“Where did you get that?”
The man stared at her. Anger flushed though his cheeks. “From our enemies.”
The man stopped resisting the two officers. He directed all his force towards Cassandra. Brynk and Hang stopped him just centimeters away from Cassandra’s face. Cassandra’s pulse fled up her throat. She fought to not show it through her face.
“Enemies like you. All enemies of Gift-box.”
“He has been babbling about his Gift-box all the way here,” Brynk said between his teeth. “Apparently the guy will come and get us to refill the buckets some day.”
“How fascinating.” Cassandra inhaled slowly. “This Gift-box then must know we exist, right?”
The man’s face went from furious to blank.
“Thought so. Paul. Hang. Put him in the cell. Kara and I will get the hammers.”
“You can never beat Gift-box,” the man screamed behind her. “No one can beat him.”
Maybe not, Cassandra thought. But we got the upper hand.
Copyright © David B. Johansson 2022