Flash Fiction No. 54


The Choices We Make

“I-I can’t! I can’t!”

The words heaved, shuddered in between panicked sobs.

“Please, no! I-I can’t do it! Please! Pluh-Please!”

They ignored her and put the needle back in her arm. Her veins burned, her muscles coiled in white hot barbs, as she screeched and writhed. Sweat trickled low, collecting in salty droplets on her blistered lips.

Her body stretched and contorted, but still it didn’t work.

The scientists shook their heads, reading pages sourced with their moral defects. They wanted to create something unique. They wanted to create something stronger than humanity could grasp. Their favourite subject was willing, but first they needed to test and make sure it was safe. And Katy was their test subject.

She was carried to the sterile cell and laid upon the crisp sheets while all around her the infection resistant walls glowed, eerie and white. Red rimmed eyes opened a fraction once the scientists had left, not daring to move an inch more.

She wasn’t taking any chances with their two way mirrors.

Every night, she plotted revenge on the brother that had put her there. He had known what they would do, coercing her parents into thoughts of a different fate. He’d told them that they would cure her.

Her nostrils filled with heat. Cure her?

They were poisoning her. They were trying to addle her powers and contort her into something else. Something more dangerous.

But they didn’t know she was holding back.

They’d taught her to be strong. They’d taught her to find the very edge of pain and cling on without giving anything away. They didn’t know what they’d done.

She waited, relying on her psychic abilities and the change in the backlit mirror to guess how late it was in the world outside. Finally she deduced that the watcher beyond the glass had begun to slumber.

It took time to transform, the process painful and new, but she did it with seared determination.

She crawled to the only space in the cell where they couldn’t see her, spiking a jolt of psychic electricity through the mirror. The watcher awoke. He skittered about, calling for reinforcements, and then, like a fool, he opened the door.

She tore his throat out with her new, pearly whites. What else did he expect?

Her psychic abilities stretched out into the corridors, searching for the rushing human bodies. They only had one thought on their minds amidst the fear and panic: they had to kill her.

That wasn’t going to happen.

She hunted for the scent of her brother, killing and maiming until she found his quarters. Her body stiffened. His was a cell like hers… Too stunned to move, she didn’t dodge the bullet and slumped against the wall.

The cell door opened to reveal a Cheshire cat grin. Her brother stood before her, eyes gleaming. He moved his gaze to the scientist with the gun.

“The formula seems to have worked, sir.”

Still grinning, he nudged the wolf carcass with his foot. “Excellent. I knew a sister would come in handy some day.”

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7 thoughts on “Flash Fiction No. 54”

  1. That was a wonderful twist, she was right about her brother but then totally got tricked in the end. I hope she finds out and eats him.

  2. Psychic werewolves, awesome! I really love your settings and how thoroughly modern AND fantasy they are. You blend the two parts so beautifully it is truly captivating. Of course my favorite part is always when the full force of the fantasy is finally felt.

  3. Evil brother! This is brilliant – I simultaneously wanted to read more and felt fully satisfied, the perfect combination. I wasn't expecting the twist.

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