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Random Nightly Flash Fiction

I wrote something like this months back but my brain wanted me to revisit it.

A loud clank wakes me up from a sleep state that I have no idea how I entered. The door to my prison opens and he stands before me. “Tsk tsk, my little flower. Did I tell you you could sleep?” I don’t answer and just keep my eyes locked on his. “Hmmm, quiet today.” He steps closer. “Ah, but luckily I have ways to make you scream.” He opens the jacket of his fine tailored suit and pulls out a knife, still stained with my blood. The sight makes me cringe and I turn away. “Yes, my little friend is back. Maybe you two need to get more acquainted since you don’t seem to like him very much.” He comes closer with the knife and teases the tip over various places on my skin. He gets to my chest and the knife makes contact. I dig my wrists into the shackles chaining me to the wall. I try not to flinch, but then he makes a slit on my collar bone. Not enough to be remotely lethal, but enough to force a wince out of my throat. “That’s all you have for me?” He frowns and in a fluid motion he stabs the knife into my thigh. The pain is immediate and I scream. He laughs and a wide grin forms across his face. “That’s more like it.” I can’t take it anymore. “Why-” I hesitate at the sound of my own voice because I haven’t heard it in days. He seems surprised too, as his full attention is taken from my body to my face. “Why don’t you just kill me already?” His smile returns. “Oh darling, where’s the fun in that?” He moves so that he is right in front of me and our noses touch. “Besides, when I kill you, I want you to beg for it. I want you to need death like the very air you breath.” He lets out a small laugh. “How ironic for you to want death like you would air- an utter oxymoron. Now, now, let’s get you cleaned up. Can’t have you bleed out, can we?” He is silent as he tends to my wounds and eventually leaves. Only one thing is on my mind. He didn’t if, he said when.

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About woodh2013

I'm the girl that's named after the famous city of lights and cameras, but am too shy to talk to the kid sitting next to me in class. I'm the girl that blasts opera while I commute to and from school, but is in the crowds of rock shows on Friday nights. I'm the girl who can't draw to save her life, but takes beautiful pictures. I'm the girl who worries about everything, even when things aren't so bad. I can't be put in a box, so you want to know more? Read my work.

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