FLASHSHOT

Daily Genre Flash Fiction

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ISSUE EIGHT HUNDRED SEVENTY SEVEN            April 2, 2005
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Hell-O
By Chris Ambrose

The flames on the packaging caught Jane's eye at the grocery store, "New
Sugar-Free Fiery Cinnamon-Flavored Instant Hell-O, it's devilishly
delicious."  What unique marketing copy, she thought as she bought the small box.

At home, Jane went directly to the kitchen and mixed the packet with two
cups of ice-cold water as directed.  The gelatin instantly gelled into a
crimson mirror, reflecting the flames and demons now filling her kitchen.

The sweet aroma of cinnamon was quickly lost to the overpowering stench of brimstone.

It's been two thousand years now.  Jane wishes she'd never mixed the
Hello-O.

Most of all, she wishes she had those two cups of ice-cold water.

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ISSUE EIGHT HUNDRED EIGHTY FOUR            April 9, 2005
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IN ORDER TO SAVE
By Chris Ambrose

Not a breath of air stirred.

"Recon leader, report your status," the headset crackled.

"All secure, sir.  100% neutralization of the enemy and potential combatants
achieved."

The soldiers entering the village found nothing alive.  The people were all
dead, of course, but so were the animals, the insects, even the plants -
another NX bomb success.

"Tactical status?"

"No regulars.  Possible signs of irregulars, lightly armed."

There were no enemy soldiers.  The squad found no weapons, unless the eating and cooking utensils were to be counted - and they were.

"Very good, soldier.  We'll put this one in the win column.  Move on to your
next assignment."

The village had been saved.

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ISSUE NINE HUNDRED THREE April 28, 2005
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STARLIGHT, STAR BRIGHT
By Chris Ambrose

Footsteps behind Philip echoed through dank, rough-hewn passageways. He raced towards the exit from an eldritch subterranean maze, clutching a musty tome to his chest, the prize seized from that horribly stained basalt altar guarded by unmentionable fiends.

The air grew less fetid, now tangy with crispness of the sea.

His loping pursuers, guardians of that hideous underground temple, were
falling back, as their loathsome flabby bodies, horrible crosses between
amphibian and ape, tired from the chase.

Philip broke clear of the passageway into fresh seaside night air, free at
last from the foulness.

The Necronomicon glowed fiercely under the light of three moons, and
constellations never seen from Earth.

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Chris Ambrose is a member of the SFPA.  He has three flash fiction stories
appearing in "Small Bites", a benefit anthology for Charles L. Grant,
available through Shocklines.com, Amazon.com or directly from the
publisher - http://www.apfuchs.com/cgrantsmallbitesordering.html .

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© 2005 Chris Ambrose

FLASHSHOT: YEAR ONE

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