A group of children.
Aliens.
In colours. In all shapes.
Sitting.
Staring.
Looking to devour.
Mortal souls leave this place.
Do not enter. Forbidden.
One has fallen.
Succumbed to the will of the world
'Help me friends'
The girl in her fields.
The paddocks look green. Speckled purple. Spots of yellow
She looks to be young
She may not be
She sees the red child
Red.
The colour of blood and anguish
'They've come, they're here'
Heavy metal mixed with leather pound the floor
March, march
Don't raise your head unless permitted
I see the folly of our people
How stupid we are
Hammer, nail, spear.
Look at the blue sky behind a sheet
Hanging on the line our all your dreams
'What shall we do with this one?'
Do nothing
'I've had it with you, come here!'
Say nothing
'What shall I become, mother?'
Be nothing
You are worthless, so be worthless
The child walked when none its age could
It walked towards me
I ran the other way
It grew disfigured and extended upwards into the sky
Six eyes
Four legs, eight legs
Demon.
Claws tracing out the dirt to mark where its been
The monster ate the child within.
Fight on or run fast.
Don't turn your head backwards or it will snap
'Listen here, don't you tell me what to do!'
YOU ARE READING
King of Swords - Flash Fiction/Short story collection
Short StoryStories I've written for uni or for myself. A variety of genres and lengths. There is no real linear theme connecting them, however, they all still feel connected to me.
