Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your weekly dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.
We are at 100 entries! It is just amazing! I have been working towards this entry for quite some time now.
And I can promise you, the things this entry sets up will be felt in the coming 100 entries!
This week’s entry: Riot
”No,” Bellargh whined. ”No. No. No!”
The hands didn’t let him go.
“But chief,” one of his former employees said from his right. “These machines are the future, you said so yourself. You should welcome them.”
“But not like this…”
“Shut it!” Another voice said from his left. “I want to see if he can swim.”
The docks came closer. Bellargh fought to get lose, but against five pairs of hands used for hard labor, what can an office rat really do?
“It is time!” One young devil came screaming and jumping with a wrench. “Lets get this inferno started.”
He laughed and began hitting one of the tanks.
“You can go on for days without budging it,” said a woman who just came from the offices dragging a woman by the hair. “Ask Sven, he has something more explosive you can use.”
“Why are you doing this?” Bellargh asked.
“Why we are doing this? How thick are you? You took our jobs, chief. You made us miserable. Now we want revenge.”
“We were going to give you new jobs. Just look at the folder on my desk. It is named future projects.”
“Future projects? Like when we are all dead and gone, so you don’t have to care anymore? We are not falling for that!”
The woman who directed the young devil towards Sven laughed by the tanks. She had grabbed one of the extraction tubes, and held it towards the woman she pulled out of the office.
“Any final words?”
“Please,” the woman said. “Please.”
With the click of a button the tube opened and sucked the woman into the machinery. Her screams echoed through the chambers, until she reached the pitchforks and suddenly went silent.
“Now it’s you turn to suffer,” the former employee whispered in Bellargh’s ear.
They tied what was left from a broken machine around his feet.
The young devil returned to the tank. He laughed while he slammed a bomb onto the thick steel wall.
“Don’t you worry chief, where you are going running won’t be necessary.”
Another bomb was planted on the next tank, and the next until they were all waiting for their undoing.
Bellargh felt his feet move as his five capturers pushed the large pieces of metal over the docks.
“Please,” he begged one last time.
The heavy weight threw Bellargh over the edge. He heard the first explosion before his head broke through the surface.
The first tank crashed against the cliffs. The second broke the surface right over Bellargh, and crushed him against the bottom. And all the souls within the tank flew though the waters.
They all went home.
Copyright © David B. Johansson 2021