Category Archives: Flash

Hunting Prey by Nina D’Arcangela @WiHMonth @Sotet_Angyal #WiHM8

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Hunting Prey

Beautiful creature of destruction; you are the embodiment of majesty and grandeur darting through the air; humming past in the blink of an eye, stunning your prey into a shock of paralytic fear; engaged always in aerial combat with the currents that fight your forward progress; rising, dropping, jerking, zipping.

Always seeking…

What is it you seek on those elegant gossamer wings? Perhaps the next meal that awaits you… What else would a voracious thing such as yourself desire? You, with your crushing mandibles and gnashing teeth, so willing to consume all that cross your path and thereafter, your gullet. A beast of miniscule proportion whose lust to sate itself knows no bounds – respects no boundaries.

The patter of rain does not deter you from the hunt – your need for nourishment is all consuming; it’s all your disjointed body knows. The repeated pumping of your clasping organ seeking purchase as it curves downward to secure a hold in this new and foreign terrain. Your legs spread so delicately, laid wide ever so gently, in this most opportunistic of places. Large bead like eyes of gleaming blackness adapted for spotting the smallest of morsels passing by whilst you suckle on nature’s other offerings.

You have at last found a worthy feeding ground amongst the thin grasses of this murky bank. This piece of drift offers a perch from which you may indulge your glutinous greed. You seek a place to hide, a place of recess from which you may ambush unsuspecting prey.

Cloaked by stealth and the hush of your own inner stillness, you await what tasty treat flicks past seeking a safety all its own whilst knowing not that you are now the monstrous dark occupant which all others must fear in this previously safe harbor.

~ Nina D’Arcangela


© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela

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Stop by my other blogs for more Women in Horror Month content!
Spreading the Writer’s Word – A new Horror Flash-Fiction from a different female author daily in February!
The Road to Nowhere – Horror movie picks by The Damned staring strong leading ladies daily all month long.

And don’t forget to visit the Women in Horror Month official web site
for more great 
WiHM8 events and posts!

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Bloater – Pen of the Damned Flash Fiction @PenoftheDamned

The Mission: Pick two of the five words and write a 100 – 150 word flash piece incorporating them. Here is mine.

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Bloater

Menthol, that’s all I smelled. The bloated mass before me waited patiently. I picked up the scalpel, the fluorescent light humming above glinted off its metallic surface. The Y incision made, I peeled back the outer layer of skin exposing globules of fatty residue and further decomposed tissue. Thick yellow fluid oozed from the gangrenous edges of the incised flesh. The second stroke sliced through muscle, invaded the stomach cavity; the gaseous release hissed in competition with the fixture overhead. The half-digested, half-rotted contents within were easily discernible. Next, I moved to the throat and began a vertical slit in the esophagus. The small, elongated objects lodged in the upper esophageal sphincter left no doubt; they were human fingers. Removing my mask, I glanced at the chart, confirmed the preliminary findings.

Cause of Death: suffocation due to blockage of the systema respiratorium.

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Visit PenoftheDamned.com to read seven other interpretations of the same word-prompt: Damned Echoes 4


© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela.

 

 


Good Grace

A drabble written for a Pen of the Damned photo-prompt. For this piece, I am both photographer and word twister… 😉

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Good Grace

The metamorphosis begins with the lick of first dew. As Mother’s milk rains down, do we not feel the fracture, the impending breach; do we not begin to break under her ever present gaze? To hold fast we strive, yet a fool’s errand that. Mother will have her way, with rod or lash; we will obey. Extruded beyond time, a limit reached, one gives way with a whispered screech of banshees yet unheard. For as the coil rips asunder, so does the edge tip; the ferry no longer granting safe passage, we no longer the guardians in Mother’s good grace.

Head over to Pen of the Damned to read the other
photo-prompt flashes in this collection.



© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela.

 

 


The Unused Drabble!

Hi Folks! A rarity for me, but I’m gonna offer you background noise on this post.

For the December 2015 Sirens Call eZine, themed ‘Lost Souls’, Julianne Snow and I did a comparative photo-prompt flash. I wrote two candidates for the eZine, and this one ended up an orphan.

After you check out this little ramble, grab a copy of the eZine to read the two interpretive pieces we included. 

 

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Glimmer

It’s dark at night, dark and lonely. Occasionally, I see others; catch a glimpse of their shimmer in the headlights that round the bend. I remember driving around the bend, reaching down to grab the map that slipped from my hand, the sound of the impact, the glass shattering as I was hurled through the windshield. At first, they were kind to me, helped me to understand, but then they seemed to drift away – lost to their own thoughts, their own inner worlds. I suppose that’s what we’re meant to do, lose ourselves.

I wonder if others see my glimmer…

 


The image is not mine, I claim no copyright to it, but the words are – small disclaimer free of charge! ;]
© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela.

 

 


Red

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Red: taint of the broken; stain of the brazen.
To sip of such delicately tinted nectar would bruise it eternal
leaving a residue of rouged pain in its quickening wake.

© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela.

 

 


Hush

name

Hush

Been so many years, I don’t even remember the sun no more. I hear ‘em muttering, let ‘em talk. I’ll die in this box no doubt. I even heard they sealed it with the name. Trying to shame me I s’ppose. But I have my trophy; I pick my teeth with it every day. Wearin’ it down, but then it was so small to start with. Seems people dislike what I done, but that’s only ‘cause they don’t understan’ it. See, the sweet meat – it’s like veal, you gotta eat it when it’s supple, ‘fore it grows and loses the flavor.

© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela.

(Originally posted on Pen of the Damned as a 100 word picture prompt flash)


Child of Seed

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Mother, how could you? You’ve spoken to this recalcitrant child of seed, creating beauty in my malformed pulp through your tantrum of destruction; but this hurts me – leaves me a damaged husk straining to survive. Is this your intent? Am I to twist and writhe until all that once flourished is a tangled mass of malcontent? Mother… how could you?

© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela.


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