Only thing better than a normal Friday Night Drabble Party? A Friday the 13th Night Drabble Party!
It’s like the Universe had me in mind when making the calendar. Thank you, Universe!
So, to celebrate this most holy night of slasherific slasherness I give you this drabble! I serve it up on a plate of pan-seared liver with a side of fava beans and a nice chianti. Mmmmmmm!
A Hard Night’s Work
“RUN!” I scream at her. “Go get the car!”
I toss her the keys, but they slip through her fingers, falling into the thick mud at her feet.
The rain pours down on us, creating red rivulets of blood that flow down my skin as my wounds continue to bleed. I can’t believe he cut me. Deep. Am I dying? Am I?
“There he is!” she yells at me. “Just past the trees!”
“THEN GO AFTER HIM!” I shout. “Do I have to do everything?!”
What was I thinking hiring an assistant? There’s a reason we serial killers work alone.
How’d ya like that one?
Disclaimer: They were warned…They are doomed…And on Friday the 13th, nothing will save them.
No extras tonight! Just The Party!
The whip sang in his hand; snapping, cracking at his will. Those that stood opposed fell. They fell hard, lashed and gashed.
But there were so many.
He spun like a whirling dervish; his mind filled with prayers of any kind and religion as his fatigued eyes beheld the mob about him. He was good; great, amazing even. But the numbers didn’t lie.
But no matter the amount of prayers, he couldn’t change reality. His arms were getting tired, his legs cramping. Sweat poured into his eyes, his body nearly blinding him with stinging betrayal.
But he never stopped. Never.
Disclaimer: Whip it. Whip it good.