Friday, November 29, 2013

Flash Fiction Challenge

This week on Chuck Wendig's flash fiction challenge  I'll be selecting the first two hundred words of someone else's story and adding two hundred of my own.

                                                               SILVER BULLET
                                                      (original 200 words by Gabe K)

I'm in the middle of my Witchcraft and Feminism in the 18th Century essay when Ree texts me. The preview says THEY SHOT M and I can feel heat and power rising to my face involuntarily. It takes three tries to put in my password correctly and I have a curse on my tongue by the time I get to the actual message: THEY SHOT MY BROTHER.

Mild relief.

Before I can ask how long it will take to heal, SILVER BULLET pops up.

Relief gone.

Hunters in Boston? This isn't some ladydamned podunk white trash middle-of-nowhere town. I flip open my trunk and grab a salt solution and my favorite amplifier, an obsidian wolf carving. Nana passed it to me when I hit sixteen. Did she know, somehow?

I send, Where are you?, before throwing on clothes. I don't bother with a bra; the wolves walk around half naked most of the time, they won't care.


I mutter to the building to bring the elevator. Owen catches my eye as I pass his room.

"Shouldn't do that, Sanders."

"Hunters shot Ree's brother." I turn before reaching the elevator. "I could use your help."

With a sigh, Owen tosses his book aside and rolls off the bed. "Are you sure it was hunters?" But even as he asks he's kneeling by his weapon's chest.

"Who else?"

"We're not supposed to go out tonight." He pulls a crossbow and a sheath full of arrows from the trunk. He's already wearing his jade amulet, never takes it off.

"Screw the rules." I step into the elevator. "I'm not going to let Sean die. Now, do you have my back or do I go it alone?"

He hurries into the elevator, giving me a long-suffering look. "Since when do I not have your back?"

I don't smile, I'm too wound up. Lifting my phone I stare intently at the screen.

"Where are they?" Owen asks as the elevator descends toward the ground floor of the Academy.

"Don't know," I mutter.

"Well, you better find out, quick. We can't just run off with no idea of where we're going."

I grind my teeth together. "I'm working on it." Where are you? I text again. I know Ree must be freaking out, but I can't help her, or Sean, if I can't find them.

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