Fiction Drabbles: 100-Word Challenge Community

Title: No Vacancy
Challenge/Prompt: #117 - Space
Original Fiction
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence, language.

“I just need a room for tonight,” I said.

The girl behind the counter seemed nervous. “We’re... full, sir.”

She was definitely lying to me; the “vacancy” light was on in the window behind her. The question was, why? For a moment, I considered confronting her, but decided against it. Something wasn’t right here. Whatever her problem was, I didn’t want to make it mine.

Before I turned to go, I made the mistake of looking at the floor in front of the counter. Spreading like warm maple syrup, a pool of crimson liquid was seeping from something underneath.

“Shit.”

Title: Influence
Challenge/Prompt: #113 - Influence
Original Fiction
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Violence.

"There's been a breach downtown, m'lord," his subordinate said, as she turned on the television.

The elder directed his gaze reluctantly to the flickering screen in the corner of the room where the nightly news was being reported live. He hated all technology, especially television, but even he had to admit that keeping up to date on current events was better than maintaining his stalwart, old-fashioned standards.

"Have our contact in the police department cover it up," he said. He pointed his finger at the television with purpose. "And kill that reporter. She no longer works for me."

Title: Leaving
Challenge/Prompt: #85 - Pain
Original Fiction
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.

Abandoning her former life hadn’t hurt as much as she’d expected. Instead, leaving everything behind had filled her with an undeniable sense of satisfaction. She hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to anyone, nor had she made an effort to tell her landlord that she was moving out. She had simply quit her job, thrown away most of her belongings, and disappeared.

The pain came later, when a chance meeting revealed the truth of things: she hadn’t been missed. Most people hadn’t even realized she’d left.

For the first time, she knew what it meant to be truly and utterly alone.

Title: Hero
Challenge/Prompt: #61 - Mouth
Original Fiction
Rating: PG
Warnings: None

When confronted with the reality of having to go into the gaping mouth of the cave to rescue our friend, I wasn't surprised to see Simon balk. He wasn't one to take kindly to anything that resembled actual work, unless it benefited him personally in some way.

"If you don't want to go, you don't have to," I said.

"Well, hurry up then," he said. "You've got ten minutes."

I left him behind and stepped into the darkness alone. My voice quieted, betraying the nervousness I was feeling. "Someone's got to be the hero. Guess it's going to be me."

Title: Survivor
Challenge/Prompt: Cloud
Original Fiction
Rating: PG
Warnings: None

It was the last time she ever heard her own name. Frightening mushroom clouds had blocked out the sunlight, and the world as she knew it had disappeared in an instant. The memory of that day stayed with her, even though the very thought of it made her heart ache with longing.

Yet, somehow she had survived.

"A fantasy," she thought, as her eyes scanned the silent valley below. "The word 'survivor' isn't just a fantasy."

She knew her chances of finding anyone alive were slim, but she continued, allowing what little hope she had left to carry her onward.

Title: Dangerous Instinct
Challenge/Prompt: Drink
Original Fiction
Rating: PG13
Warnings: None
A/N: The desire to drink blood...

A steady shudder surged through his body as she pressed herself up against him. He struggled to stop his fangs from pushing through to the surface, a constant reminder that he was never in complete control of his dangerous instinct. Crushing his mouth closed, his eyes watered, as sharp teeth scraped against his bottom lip, drawing two thin ribbons of blood that rippled jaggedly down his chin: crimson, welling, and defiant.

“You’ll protect me, won’t you?”

He grunted, gasping for air, unable to respond to her. His heart said yes, but the rest of him undeniably said no.

Title: The Dream
Challenge/Prompt: Yesterday
Original Fiction
Rating: G
Warnings: None

Yesterday, she told him that she loved him. Fragmented images flashed through his mind, as he tried in vain to remember the details of the dream: the lamplit city street, the spicy scent of her clove-flavored breath, the way she covered her mouth with her hand to hide her beautiful smile.

He had to find her. Thousands of unanswered questions besieged him; there must have been something he’d missed among his rapidly fading memories. His stomach turned with an inexplicable sense of urgency. He was positive that he didn't have much time.

If only he knew where to start.