Second Chance – Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt Flash Fiction!

It’s that time of week again! The time when our wonderful hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields puts up a photo prompt and we all take on the challenge of writing a story in 100 words to go with the photo.

PHOTO PROMPT - © Kent Bonham

PHOTO PROMPT – © Kent Bonham

Second Chance.

   By Heidi Busby Brown

Neon signs lit up the deserted high street and reflected in the water filled pot holes.

Screams and gunfire rip through the night, an explosion shakes the tarmac under our feet.

‘Hannah? What do we do?’

They were coming, they’d never stop until we were all wiped out.

I’m tired of running.

An inoculation to prevent the spread of deadly virus took my first life away. They will not take my second.

‘We fight back.’

The change was effortless, hair replaced skin. Teeth elongated, sharp and deadly.

I tipped my head back and howled for all to hear.

My howl was echoed back, from all over the city.

Alone we’d die, but as a Pack we could take them down.

Thank you ever so much for taking the time to read my offering today, I hope you enjoyed it. I would love to hear from you so feel free to leave a comment. To take part in, or read fellow writers stories to do with the photo click on the blue frog below. You won’t be disappointed!


The Midnight Hour – Friday Fictioneers Flash Photo Prompt!

I’ve been absent for a while again, life has been very hectic but I’m having a go at this weeks Flash Fiction. Many thanks as always to our wonderful hostess  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields who runs Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT - © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

The Midnight Hour

By Heidi Busby Brown

The Grandfather clock strikes twelve. Its loud chime vibrating the crystals on the old wooden chandelier.

Jane glides up the ancient staircase and I follow her onto the gallery landing.

The stench of cigar smoke fills the air.

He’s here.

Rough hands close around her throat, lifting her upwards. She claws at him as he holds her over the edge.

I can’t help her.

He releases her, his blank eyes stare at me as Jane plummets to the ground below.

My scream is silenced.

I take my last breath as the twelfth chime rings out.

It’s over.

At least until tomorrow night, when the clock strikes twelve.

Thank you ever so much for taking the time to read, I would love to hear from you so please feel free to leave me a comment. If you would like to read more from the Friday Fictioneers then click on the blue frog, you won’t regret it!