Furious Fiction June 2021
THE CHALLENGE THIS MONTH WAS TO WRITE A SCENE CONTAINING THESE SEVEN PROMPTS:- THICK AS HONEY, SILENT AND STILL, GOLDEN GLOW, HEART-SHAPED, DELICATE PERFUME, SOFT AND DOUGHY, RAZOR-SHARP.
Trap
Clara walked down the alley, her footsteps not making a sound. The alley was eerily silent and still. It was like there was no life here and it was extremely unsettling. She knew better, knew that despite the silence, danger and death awaited her. She’d been lured to the meeting in this deserted part of the city, in the dead of night, with the promise of retrieving her sister.
Clara stopped at the end of the alley, there were only two directions she could go. Through the door in front of her, or back out into the alley, so she could drive away. There was no other, not for her.
The door looked so normal for something so sinister, something that would change her life. The only sign of life a light floral scent that hung in the air, her sister’s delicate perfume. The one Sharon wore for special dates.
Clara gripped the doorknob and wasn’t surprised the door opened easily. She’d expected the interior of the building to be dark and forbidding, but was surprised by the soft golden glow emanating within.
Clara walked inside. The entrance hallway was normal enough, a sign on the wall prompting her where to go. She got to the end of the hallway and heard the door to the alley slam shut. An ominous distinctive click of a lock echoing down the hall. Clara took a deep breath and braced herself. She could do this.
Clara follow the signs on the wall, taking twists and turns meant to disorientate her. She feared there was a good chance they might work. She’d be hard pressed to find her way out of here.
The deeper she walked down the hallway, the less light there was, until eventually she could see almost nothing, not even her hand in front of her face. She took a step forward she immediately slipped. Clara landed hard on her ass.
Clara reached out tentatively and felt for what she’d tripped over. Her hand encountered something soft and doughy and wet, also weirdly warm. Whatever the wetness was that she touched, it was as thick as honey.
Despite the dread in her stomach, Clara pulled out her phone. She had no reception here, she knew that, but her torch still worked. She turned on the light only to immediately see a small heart-shaped face with a razor-sharp sword sticking out of a young girl’s chest. Even though it made her a terrible person, Clara was relieved that it wasn’t her sister.
Light suddenly flooded the room. Clara shot to her feet. The first thing she saw was her sister Sharon, tied to a chair, unconscious, covered in blood. Then Clara heard his menacing voice.
“I knew you’d come. They always do. Let’s have some fun.”
Footsteps sounded coming to a stop right behind her. Clara could feel his breath on the back of her neck. Clara tensed, ready to fight. This wasn’t going to be how it ended.