Flash Fiction No. 50


The Man With No Face
Starting with Merchandise, this is a continuation of Putrid Fume.

Was she screaming or were they?

“Get me my information!”

The noise seemed to come from everywhere, piercing her ears and spearing her brain. She writhed in the chair, eyes rolling back in her head and froth collecting on her lips, trapped between her body and her mind.

“In her arm! In her arm!”

Sharp pain.

The screaming got louder and louder, then muted into nothing… Oxygen whooshed along her windpipe and down into her lungs. Her brain buzzed unsteadily as blurred words echoed around her head in the concrete lab space.

Memory slowly filtered in through pain shuttered static. It hurt to think.

Someone was coming for her. Who was coming? Alex… Aaron… Andy… Adam. Adam was coming for her. A skewed image of his face twisted into her mind’s eye, painting a smile on her washed out lips.

Glass shattered.

“So the little prince is coming back. Interesting.”

The voice was male. Jenna’s tired gaze flickered on, finding the speaker. It was the man with no face. He seemed pleased in a way that Jenna’s burned out mind could not understand. She could feel her nerve endings fizzing, blistering with mental acid.

The woman by her chair tore her eyes away from the screen, pulling herself down to tidy the spilled glass on the floor. Jenna watched her with slow turning thoughts. The woman had her hair up in a black bun, squeezed tight and shrewd like everything about her. She’d been cold and pernicious ever since she’d brought Jenna to this place and to the man with no face.

Jenna dragged her gaze to the screen, eager to discover what had ruffled the evil creature beside her. The image was blurry, exactly as she’d remembered it. Her lips parted. The probes were still attached to her head. They were streaming her private thoughts straight onto that floor to ceiling monstrosity. Adam’s face stared back at her, sharpening in focus.

He would rescue her.

The woman crouched beside Jenna’s chair realised that she, too, was staring at the gigantic picture of the teen and ducked her head to hide it. The man with no face smiled, but Jenna couldn’t see it. She only knew that he had.

Why couldn’t she see his face?

It blurred in and out, but even when it was in focus she found she couldn’t remember it or who he was. It was like he could block her mind. It was like…

It was like he was psychic too.

“You’ll have to kill him.”

The shrew-faced woman looked up so fast her neck could have snapped. She shook her head. “He’s my son–”

“Since when has that bothered you before?” spat the man with no face.

“Never.” The cool reply issued from across the room. “Hello mother.” The woman’s eyes widened, taut lips gasping wide. Adam was already off his feet, lunging through the air as his body twisted and rediscovered his wolf form with claws and teeth ready to rip.

The man with no face raced for Jenna. He cut at her bonds and threw her over his shoulder, sprinting to the door, but a snarl stopped him short. He pivoted to face the beast. Adam growled low, his mother’s blood dripping from his muzzle.

The man with no face wouldn’t escape.

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8 thoughts on “Flash Fiction No. 50”

  1. It's so great to get all of your comments. I'm so pleased you all really enjoyed the piece. Perhaps I'll continue it after my week long flash fiction for the 7 sins challenge. =)

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