#SwiftFicFriday – Week 5 Vote

#SwiftFicFriday – Week 5 Vote

Another prompt, another round of great responses! Check them out below and vote for your favorite:

Story 1 by Jo Hawk

Theo’s palms were moist with dread, and they trembled as he rubbed them on his trousers.

“I must be crazy,” he said to himself. The god sitting across from him snickered.

“Perhaps you are…” he paused amused by Theo’s squirming, “or maybe you seek to restore honor to your family name.” He pressed his ashen-grey fingertips together in front of his hood shrouded face. Pale eyelids slowly closed, hiding the deep ebony pits of his demon tortured soul.

“Will you help me?”

“You want me to intervene with the daughters of Night?” Scorching fire flashed when his eyes opened. “The Erinyes do not yield once they accept the curse. I am afraid he is doomed to suffer every misery and misfortunes they see fit to heap upon him.”

“My brother is not responsible for my mother’s death. His only crime was not being able to protect her from my uncle’s greed. My uncle killed her. He seeks to destroy everything he cannot own.”

Theo imagined Hades smiled.

“Tisiphone, Alecto, and Megaera play an elaborate game, but you hold a winning move.”

As he spoke their names three Furies appeared behind him, black robes fluttering with their lamentations. Serpents writhed, coiling in their hair and twisting around their arms as crimson blood oozed from their dead eyes.

“You wish to invoke the burden of persecution?” they asked in unison.

Theo’s mouth gaped and his skin paled making him resemble Hades.

Hades lifted his hand, and a stifled chuckle passed his lips.

“Ladies. Ladies. There is no need for invocation tonight, Theo wants to right a wrong. Someone has duped you three.”

The Furies’ wails fell silent, and they looked from one to the other.

“Duped? Pray, tell us more. We must hunt the miscreant and administer the fate that he deserves.”

Story 2 by Terry Brewer

I’d seen her angry. I’ve seen her very angry. This was different. This was fury.

I’d just gotten out of the shower and she was glaring. Then I noticed. She was brandishing a large kitchen-knife. Did I mention the glaring?

The texts. She must have seen the texts. They were all innocent. Shirley could sometimes be a bit flirtatious with me and I could sometimes be a bit flirtatious with Shirley. But it was all in good fun. None of it meant anything.

“You promised you wouldn’t and you went ahead and did it anyway.”

I’m there, naked and facing off against a furious woman with a knife and suddenly “she cut off his head with a carving knife” pops into my head and I smile as the tune bounces around.

“You think this is funny? I’ve warned you.”

“Honey. For the love of god. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You weren’t thinking? I’m sick and I’m tired of you not thinking. I’ve had it with you. I don’t care what happens but I’m cutting it off. It’s what’s doing your thinking anyway.”

She took a step closer.

“Honey. I swear. Never again. Never. Again.”

“You get one more chance. It happens again, you’re never going to pee standing up again. Do. You. Understand?”

“I understand.”

She looked at it. All shriveled up in my panic. “Although it looks like I might need a smaller knife next time.”

She turned to leave.

“You might want to start now. Put the damn seat down.”

And she was gone.

Let your voice be heard! The poll will stay open until Friday night, when the new prompt goes live.

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