Flashes of Sanity #172: Forgiving Father

Welcome to Above Heaven, Below Hell! Previously called Flashes of Sanity. 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.

Today’s entry: Forgiving Father

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“Lousy cretins, that’s what you are.” A bottle flew across the kitchen. It missed the wall and went into the living room. It hit Leo in the head and both crashed onto the carpet.
“Nothing but spoiled brats.”
Leo screamed his pain out into the room. His brothers stood beside him and looked. All except Felix. He was dozed off on the couch.
“What did I say about disturbing me?” Arthur came running into the living room He found the screaming son. He found the bottle. The cork came of. He poured the drink down his throat.
“I told you to never disturb me!”
The kid didn’t stop. Not even when Arthur grabbed the shoulders and shook the boy. He threw Leo back to the floor.
“I know how to silence you, you failed slobs.” Arthur disappeared into the kitchen. When he came back, he had another bottle in his hand.
“It took down that miserable sod of a brother you have. It will do the same with you!”
He pressed the boy’s cheeks together and forced the mouth open. The screams were muffled by the bottle. The blank liquid stopped them completely.
The boy coughed it up, Arthur pushed the bottle further down. “Drink, your miserable prick.”
Arms and legs fought to get free, but a father is always stronger than his sons. “Drink!”
The blankness went down. Arthur threw the bottle away and pressed his hands against the mouth when it all came pouring up. Leo swallowed while looking into the eyes of a father he once thought he loved.
“Now, go,” Arthur said and released Leo. He turned to the seven sons remaining. “Anyone else who wants to test me?”
The seven answered with silence as they watched their little brother stumble to the couch. Leo tripped and hit his head against the table. Not even a whimper left his lips, and the little boy didn’t rise after.
“I thought so,” Arthur turned back to the kitchen. “Now leave your father alone until dinner, okay?”
No son moved until dinner. When he called for them, they only hesitantly moved away from their corner in the shadows.

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Flashes of Sanity #171: Shades of Departure

Welcome to Above Heaven, Below Hell! Previously called Flashes of Sanity. 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.

Today’s entry: Shades of Departure

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Gary Oliviallo turned back towards the beach. A bartender and a coconut-dancer waved him off. He waved back.
“I will see you soon,” he said.
They laughed back at him.
Right, he thought. I don’t believe it either. The water stretched for as long as he could see. Gary laughed.
“It is in shades!” He shouted.
The wind pushed him on until the grey swallowed his view in all directions. He pulled the ropes and glanced at the compass on his arm. The digital numbers above the compass told him it was dinner time.
He filled up on energy. So far, a pointless precaution. Once he reached outside of the states, he believed it to be necessary.
I hope the change won’t let my soul free. I hope my body will hold together.
The risk was there. It all hang on the wounds his body accumulated. Were they permanent? Or had they healed? The pain had passed at least.
That had to be a good thing, right?
“I don’t know Gray,” he mumbled with food stuffed into his mouth. “But we made it to a spaceship with a whole lot of I don’t knows, so I guess this will go alright too.”
It took him a day before the ship reached the border. He felt it in a chock travelling through his body. A soul keeping the being together reverted into its passive role. Lungs cried. A heart moved slow under bones. Thoughts became slow.
Please. Let. It. Work.
His breathe returned. A heart once dead found its normal beat among the living. The lungs pushed air out his mouth in celebration.
“I made it!”
The blood found its way through empty veins. Every part of Gary’s body stung as the emptiness was forced away. The soul fed the brain with thoughts. The brain took them all in and made them part of the being that died in war. He fell to the deck exhausted from feeding a body need all the energy it could find. He took sugar from the pantry and butter from the fridge. He stuffed himself with it all as fast as he could and felt the energy pushing his body out from the coma.
The man that was Gray returned.
“Do you like it?” He asked his body. “It’s in shades, just like me.”

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Flashes of Sanity #170: Holy Protector

Welcome to Above Heaven, Below Hell! Previously called Flashes of Sanity. 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.

Today’s entry: Holy Protector

Enjoy!

”These are hard times,” the man said,
”Very hard times,” his friend said.
”You don’t want to end up on the wrong side of the coin.”
Aaron studied the two men. “And you tell me you are on the right side of said coin?”
The two looked at each other. They smiled with intentions. Aaron actually could picture the intentions in his mind from times behind enemy lines. Those were not intentions one wants in a church.
“Yes, we are,” They both said.
Aaron’s grip hardened around the knife under his robe. His other hand prepared to crush two skulls against each other.
How long will it take before they come in larger numbers, he thought. Longer than if I let them live.
“How can I be sure your protection will be what is right for my church?”
The two smiles widened. It would be so easy to open their mouths from bone to bone with lips that stretched.
“You will know once you need it.”
Aaron loosened his grip around the knife.
“Please, come in,” he said and turned around. “Welcome to our sanctuary for those who cannot defend themselves.”
The two crocks followed him inside. Without looking back, Aaron knew they looked around in the large room.
They scan for things to take and places to break in.
“There is no one here,” one of them said. The bald one, Aaron recalled. The voice moved to the left.
“No, not yet.”
“How many do you plan on holding here?” The friend said.
“Hundreds. I keep my money behind the altar, follow me.” Aaron steered left. He intentionally stepped on the trap door.
They are warned.
He turned right. His grip hardened around the knife again.
“This place is perfect,” the bald one said.
“It truly is,” Aaron answered. He put his hand on a pedestal and pushed hard.
Spears grew out from the floor. The trap door opened. The crooks screamed.
“Remove all their clothes,” Aaron said. “Search for any recorder.”
“You will pay!”
Aaron turned. His robe rose from the air and his arm swung forward. The knife slit both throats. Screams turned to gurgle. Aaron punctured the lungs. He dropped the knife and grabbed the jaws. With a hard pull both let go from the bodies.
“No recorder, sir.”
“Thank you, Marshal. Now take them down. Make sure the kids don’t see a thing.”
The trap door closed and left was only blood splatter and two jawbones. Aaron crushed the jawbones with a hammer. The powder, he burned.
“Dear Merciful Lord,” he said. “Forgive me for I have sinned.”

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Flashes of Sanity #169: After party

Welcome to Above Heaven, Below Hell! Previously called Flashes of Sanity. 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.

Today’s entry: After Party

Enjoy!

Bottles laid everywhere. Some broken. Most just forgotten in the never-ending party. Isa crossed the room unnoticed. The first day, he was scared that someone would see him, but that quickly proved false. The devils were either too drunk or too hangover to care about what they saw.
They had won after all. That was all that mattered.
As usual, a couple had found each other under a table and moaned loudly, but apparently not loud enough to awake the man on the table.
I killed myself for this, Isa thought. To see a bunch of redheads fuck each other’s horns of.
The irony hit him just as hard as the sadness in it all.
I actually killed myself. I did it.
It all felt so empty.
He crisscrossed out the back of the large meeting room. ‘New York’ it was called. It and ‘Los Angeles’ were the most popular rooms to party in. He walked through the hallway, pushing himself towards the wall at the right moment before a devil or some devils crossed his path. The elevator was open, but Isa disliked the risk of getting locked in with the enemy. He took the stairs, always the stairs no matter if he was on floor one or six. The only devils there were too busy fucking to even notice the stairs collapsing on top of them.
The streets closest to the offices were bursting with people but further away they quickly became empty, and at the prison cells there were only occasional guards. To be honest, those were not the for guarding, they were there for revenge.
For being creators with the holy mission of tending to sinners, the devils were dangerously similar to their victims.
When the light went out, we are all animals who fight for survival. Isa echoed the thought in his head as he walked the corridors between the cells. It was as close as home he could get. There was always a cell empty for him to sleep in too. Without his reflection trying to kill him.
Sobs echoed between the walls. The losers in a war. Isa didn’t care for either.
What do I care about? Isa thought. Really?
Sobs came closer, and disappeared behind him.
“Why?” A woman moaned.
Isa glanced into the cell. She was alone on the floor. Shit was everywhere.
“Why?”
Because you weren’t cautious, Isa thought.
“Why did you have to kill them?” She cried. “They were innocent. They were just kids.”
Isa halted. The heart of his soul screamed in pain.
Kids, he thought. They kill kids. Why?
He quickened his steps back to his cell. He sat by the wall.
“Why?” The woman moaned again.
Why? He thought. Kids. Is nothing sacred?

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Flashes of Sanity #168: Conflict of Wat

Welcome to Above Heaven, Below Hell! Previously called Flashes of Sanity. 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.

Today’s entry: Conflict of War

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It was a comfy chair. The cream of the crop didn’t want anything to disturb the thinking process, I guess, Susanne Queen thought.
“Correct me if I misunderstood,” she said. “We declared war on President Sloptokov to fight Xander Bylix’s cloud monster. Which proved unnecessary as a dragon randomly showed up and destroyed both himself and Bylix. The declaration of war is still active and as we speak, Sloptokov talks to the UN about possible outcomes because our nation has proven to dangerous since the dead began walking.”
“That is correct,” Marge said. “The UN have inquired you the president of the United States to defend our position.”
“Right. What is your take on this conversation?”
“Sloptokov has been searching for reasons to turn everyone against us. As the state of the country is today, he’s got a point.”
“Is there anyway we could convince them to side with us?”
“We must try. I suggest you take the stance that we will clean up the mess and bring this whole country back on track.”
Susanne nodded. She glanced at her desk. Her thoughts puzzled with the dilemma from all possible angles. “What do we have in case Sloptokov gets his will through?”
“Our army is impaired, but we hopefully can get it back on its feet with the rouges.”
The rogue Hunters and Witches of Xander. Not that reliable when Susanne thought of it.
“Our main strategy has been to take the war to the enemy. News reports from around the globe suggests that it would be unwise in our situation.”
Susanne glanced at the muted TV, probably the only TV in the country still working. Just like her communications with the outside world probably was the only working within the country. Criminals outside of the US still died. Within the borders everyone lived.
“No, the troops we send, if anyone would agree to it, would die on the battle field.”
“And the troops Sloptokov sends to us would become immortal,” Marge continued her trail of thought.
Susanne rested her eyes on the TV-screen. A reporter gave the viewers his personal opinions on what could happen. The reporter called it analysis.
“We need to win the UN over. We will press on the fact that the war declaration was enforced and we needed military action fast when our own was down. Do you have a recording of your conversation with Sloptokov?”
“Everything is recorded and backed up, but it will probably take too long to get the recording.”
“Try anyway. Otherwise, we’ll hope the UN trusts us and not Sloptokov.”
“I will see what threads can be pulled.” Marge picked up her phone and tapped the screen with fingers quick as thoughts.
“And Marge, I find it hard to believe Gool didn’t keep track on our country. See if you can find what people he had reporting from the streets.”
“On it.” Marge sank deeper into her phone.
Susanne corrected her dress.
Now, what should I do next?

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Flashes of Sanity #158: Lone Wolf

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: Lone Wolf

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It took Donald a while, but he finally found an empty apartment complex where he could make his new office. He chose a room high up with a good view over the surrounding streets. The room had a coffee brewer. And after searching the kitchen, he also found the holy black powder itself.
The apartment filled with the heavenly scent as Donald sat himself on a chair by the window.
What should I do?
The question surfaced more to jug his memory than to trigger a brainstorm. The pressing question regarding Sam’s revenge was over. Now, he could take care of more personal matters.
Highest on his list was the board members that kicked him of SurgeRay. Those bastards were no saints. They probably wished they were now when they knew he was back and coming for them.
Then it was the successors of SurgeRay. Mart Adamson was finished. Gary Oliviallo was probably a saint. That left Susanne Queen.
That witch hides somewhere, Donald thought as he scanned the horizon. I will find her no matter where it is.
On the window sill lay the quarter of a crown Dale had given him.
Donald’s face still burned at the thought of Dale breaking the crown.
Such a good weapon, wasted.
At least he knew where it was. If necessary, Donald would have to track them down. Only Dale himself would be problematic in that case.
On one of the buildings, Donald still could see the aftermath of Sam’s flames against the world.
‘WHERE ARE YOU DONALD?’
“Where are you now Sam?” Donald asked and smiled. “Scattered on the street. A soul without a home?”
“Feeling confident?”
Donald turned to the man entering the room. “After this win, Carl? Who wouldn’t?”
“True, but you still owe me that suit.”
Donald laughed. “You chose to follow me because of a suit?”
“Of course, these rags are barely holding together.”
“Don’t you worry Carl. I know a place where you will find a good suit.”
The coffee brewer went silent. Donald arose and picked a cup from the sink. He filled it. In his head, he began a list of all board members that needed their head removed. And preferably crushed.
He whistled.
It was a good day to be Donald Diamond.

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Flashes of Sanity #157: An Apprentice Burden

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: An Apprentice Burden

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They were only three now. Mitch, Dale and Miko. All others had gone their separate ways in three separate groups with a fourth of what once was a dark metallic crown.
Like they had agreed on.
Dale looked at his arm watch. In his left hand he still held his piece of the crown.
“We are all sinners,” he mumbled. He looked over his shoulder. “Miko, do you think you can make any of the cars here work?”
“Here?” Miko shrugged. “Probably not. But I saw a nice Porsche on the way here that looked like it had some cats left under the hood.”
“Go find that car, and if it seems to take too long. Find another one. It is about time we left this place.”
“Oh, I will get it going all right,” Miko said and walked down one of the streets. “Just you see.”
Dale looked at his arm watch again. Then over his shoulder until Miko had disappeared.
He seemed to be in a hurry, Mitch thought. How unusual.
“Okay, Mitch,” Dale continued. “I will break this piece in two. One for you and one for me. I want you to keep it secret. No one can know of your piece. Do you understand how important this is?”
Mitch flinched. He knew Dale saw it.
“Why should I have one? How can you trust me?”
“I can’t. But of everyone I know in this sinner’s world, you are the most sin-free I can think of.”
“Don’t you trust yourself?”
Dale put the piece against his knee and cracked it. “I trust me. But I also know I will be the first anyone go after if they want to re-unite the pieces. Hopefully, you will go unnoticed. At least for while.”
Mitch took the piece. It glimmered in the sunlight.
Like a night sky, he thought.
“What should I do with it?”
“Whatever you find suitable. Just don’t tell me.” Dale put his arm on Mitch’s shoulder. “I have trust in you, okay?”
I don’t know if I have trust in me, Mitch thought, but he put it in his backpack among the cutleries and water bottles. The backpack turned kilos heavier instantly.
Dale seemed to relax. He regained the control he was so synonymous with.
“Great,” he said. “Now, lets go find your family, shall we?”
From the streets an engine purred, and a Porsche came flying.
The weight against Mitch’s shoulder turned heavier. He straightened his shoulders. Dale believed in him.
“Yes,” Mitch said. “Lets save my brothers.”

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Flashes of Sanity #155: Home

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: Home

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The elf walked through the door. The cold outside didn’t bother him. Yet, the warmth from the ever-churning fires melted an ice in his heart.
“What do we do now?” His friend asked. “We have no Santa and no Mrs. Claus. Who will tell us what to build?”
“We will,” the elf said. “We will learn to read the wishes from all the children, and we will learn how to deliver the presents. We will learn how to build happiness without them here.”
“Do you think we can?”
The elf picked a kettle and filled it with milk, he added cocoa and sugar.
“We are elves, if anyone can it is us!”
The hot chocolate simmered. The thousands of elves picked a cup each and lined up. They talked about all the happiness they would feel once a child got the toy of their dreams. They imagined the tickling warmth spreading in their bodies.
“Tinkle,” one elf said. “You are our fastest reader. You will be reading lists.”
“Really?” Tinkle close to exploded in a wide smile. “I would love that.”
“Trasky, you are best with the reindeers. You will learn how Santa made it through every home in one night without breaking a sweat.”
“Yes! That is my dream come true!”
Soon every task Mr. and Mrs. Claus had on their plate was delegated. Every elf burned with excitement. This would be the best Christmas ever.
This would be the Christmas they were free.

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Flashes of Sanity #154: Broken Crown

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: Broken Crown

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It was red and white, but under the fluffy white Dale felt the heavy cold metal. Carl collapsed the moment he let go of the hat. Just as all the elves did.
I hope I made the right choices, Dale thought.
He tore the red away from the hat and broke the white apart. The dark circle came out into the light. The darkness capable of controlling an entire species of elves.
One of the elves fell to the asphalt. It didn’t react as its nose broke.
One more choice to make, Dale thought. He pushed his hands against the metallic circle. It cracked in four pieces.
“What are you doing?” Donald Diamond asked.
“I am guessing,” Dale said. He glanced at the army of elves.
Still nothing but empty bodies.
Then a head with a bleeding nose lifted from the asphalt. A hand wiped the blood away. Faces that once was empty looked at each other.
“I guess you were correct,” Cassandra Crisis said.
Dale shook his head. “We don’t know that yet.”
The faces turned towards the men and women who just crushed other men and women between bricks and asphalt. They saw the broken crown.
“Thank you,” an elf said. “You saved us. How can we ever repay you?””
“We only saved ourselves,” Dale said. “You don’t owe us anything.”
Dale felt the thousands of eyes scanning him and his friends.
Please believe us, he thought.
“Thank you,” the elf said again.
The tension in Dale’s shoulders let go. He inhaled his first breath since he broke the crown.
“What will you do now?”
“We will go home,” the elf said. “We will do the only thing that ever made us happy.”
“I want to feel them smile again as they open a present,” another elf said.
“What will you do with the crown?”
Dale looked at the crown in his hands. “We will make sure the pieces are hidden so no one can make it whole again.”
“That is good news.” The elf whistled and a horde of reindeers with sleighs came flying from the sky.
“We truly hope you keep that promise.”
Dale watched as the thousands of elves left.
“I will make sure we keep it,” he said.

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Flashes of Sanity #152: Harsh Decisions

Welcome to Flashes of Sanity! Your daily dose of flash fiction on 500 words or less.

Today’s entry: Harsh decisions

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”Take something, anything, and start crushing them.” Dale picked up a brick from the fountain. ”If anyone moves we lose. I take Mart.”
”Can’t Carl use the elves?” Mitch asked.
”We have seen what happens when one sinner is in control. I don’t want to see another one.”
Mitch picked one of the bricks. He looked at it.
I will slam this through someone’s face, he thought. I can do it.
”Hurry,” Carl said. ”Please hurry. The echoes get stronger.”
”Come on kid,” Brutal Joe took Mitch’s arm. ”We don’t have time for you to think.”
”Your lips look so tasty!”
Brutal Joe smashed a face between the asphalt and a brick. The screams of a man in fear went silent. Then Joe smashed the arms and the legs.
”Just like the good old days,” he said and looked at Cat-scratch Bill.
Cat-scratch put a knife through a neck. He nodded. ”Just like the good old days.”
Donna joined them. She shivered as she looked at a brick full of blood. Mitch shivered too. His brick was still clean.
”Come on, guys,” Cassandra Crisis picked another brick. ”Think of all those you lost, and everyone you hate.”
Who have I lost? Mitch thought. My dad, my mom. Not my brothers, not yet at least.
”Dale?”
The teacher looked at Mitch. Blood splatter traveled down his forehead.
”I would like to meet my brothers.”
”I can arrange that,” Dale said. ”And don’t you worry. We will make sure your dad can’t cause them more harm.”
”Do you think they are in danger.”
Dale lifted his brick from a face. He wiped the blood of his face with an even bloodier hand.
“Mitch, your father was no saint. That I am sure of. And I can only think of one place he would go once he got up above ground.”
The brick fell again. The crunch following was shilling.
The heaviness in Mitch’s hand turned to lead.
He has already found them, he thought. He has them.
His hesitance drowned in his brothers beaten bloodied. They all cried. They all feared. They all begged for Mitch to come for them.
A hand tightened around a brick. It his a face. The blood of a soldier stained Mitch’s suit. Mitch threw the brick into another face. They all looked the same. They all were his father.

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