FLASH! (Vol. I)

By Roxie Prince

What is flash fiction, and why should you be reading it? Flash fiction is a genre of bite-sized stories perfectly-portioned for a public transportation commute, a lunch break read, or a midday pick-me-up. They are ideal for telling a scary story — there's just enough time for the creeps to crawl and for things to go bump.

In this first volume of flash fiction from Roxie Prince, the author of COMPENDIUM: A Horror Novelette, there's 50 creeptastic tales, all 500 words or less, about the nightmares of cave diving, murderous husbands, ghouls who lurk in the fog, childhood doppelgängers, psychopathic friendships, highway horrors, and much more.

Dim the lights, snuggle up, and take a bite of FLASH!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roxie Prince
• Release date: Oct 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386476504

Roxie Prince

ABOUT ROXIE PRINCE Roxie is a creative soul who turns her life into stories, poetry, and art. She was born HIV+ and was orphaned by AIDS at the age of 10. She tells a story of survival through her works. Her first publication, COMPENDIUM: A Horror Novelette, is available as an e-book download now for all e-readers and as a paperback available through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books-A-Million, and other major online retailers. Her first full-length, young adult novel, The Way We Go, a tale of growing up, friendship, hope, and young love is available NOW! Growth Spurt, the companion novel to The Way We Go, picks back up with Katie Sterling and her friends as they turn thirteen and enter the confusing era in which they are unsure whether to start growing up or to cling tightly to their childhoods. The girls have a lot of growing up to do; whether they do it together or not is what they'll have to decide. It releases January 1, 2016. Roxie is also working on compiling a collection of poetry about growing up and living with HIV to accompany her memoirs. She is a self-taught artist who currently works through the digital medium to create pieces that speak to her. Her style is ever-evolving. Her art prints are available through her Society6 page. Join her on her journey.

Book preview

A Late Creeping Fog

Where are you? Don't you realize what time it is? Lacey's boyfriend chided her, yet again, for being late. This time to his very first art opening.

I really am on my way, I promise. I'm only about five minutes from the gallery, she said. This was a half-truth. She was fifteen minutes away, but he didn't need to know that. I need to get off here and concentrate on the directions. I'm hanging up now.

Okay. Well, hurry up, he said. She tapped the END button on her phone and glanced down at the address on the event’s flyer. She scolded herself for not plugging it into the GPS app on her phone, but it was too late to bother now. She was nearly there.

At least she thought she was, but now she wasn't so sure. In the few seconds she had taken to look at the flyer, she seemed to have gotten lost. How was that possible? This place didn't look familiar; in fact, it looked downright bizarre.

It was a Friday evening in the city. There should have been people milling about everywhere, but there was not a single soul to be seen. None of the street signs struck a chord, and they’d become obscured by a thick mist she hadn't seen roll in. Everything looked dead around her.

Wait!

She caught sight of a light on in a gas station.

I'm gonna ask for directions here, she said aloud. It brought her a sense of security to hear her own voice in the eerie stillness of the seemingly abandoned city. She pulled into the gas station, exited her car, and made her way through the dense fog to the door. A feeling of being watched crept up on her, raising all the hair on her neck. She looked around, frantically, and quickened her pace. She couldn't see anyone, but the fog had grown so thick she couldn't see much at all.

She approached the door and tried to open it. Locked. She banged on the glass, feeling whatever was watching her coming closer. She banged harder, panicking, and shouted out, asking for anyone at all. No answer. The lights were on, but nobody was home.

She felt a presence behind her. There was no escape now. She tried to tell herself she was being silly, that it might even be the gas station attendant. Maybe he’d been outside tending the pumps. But the heaviness in her gut told her something different.

Slowly, she turned around. There was a figure of a man standing within arm's reach, but she could make out none of his features. Lacey tried to speak, but her voice seemed to have wilted away. For what felt like ages, they looked at one another until the figure reached out and grabbed her. Her scream was cut short as they vanished into the swirling mist.

An Answered Call

I couldn't keep myself from calling. Several times a day, I pressed his name in my contact list and waited. Each time, I hoped I'd hear something different.

Yo. This is Mark. Obviously, this is a recording of my sexy voice, so leave a message. Maybe, I'll call you back; maybe, I won't. Everyone loves a mystery.

I knew he was gone, but the circumstances surrounding his disappearance were perplexing. Mark loved mysteries, but I refused the believe he meant to get lost in one himself.

He disappeared six weeks ago, seemingly taking nothing with him and leaving nothing behind. He told no one, including me, where he was going or when he would be back. All attempts to contact him went unanswered. To all intents and purposes, he had just taken off, and he was legally an adult, so we had no choice but to abandon our search and hope he'd return.

But I had a different suspicion. I alone knew Mark had been dabbling in dark things. Very dark things. One night, a few days before his disappearance, we met for coffee, and he seemed to be shaken to his core. He held a styrofoam cup in a trembling hand, and I asked him what the matter was.

I might have done something stupid, Susanna. Something real stupid. I think I'm in real trouble.

He then revealed to me he'd been messing around with some ancient texts he'd been asked to catalog in his internship with a well-known archaeologist. Texts about summoning age-old demons to garner their power – to control them and force them to do his bidding. He admitted it had worked wonderfully at first. He'd used the power of a demon called Baelmoday to ace all of his college finals and to ensure he would maintain the highest GPA possible. But Mark had misread part of the text and had fallen into a terrifying loophole in controlling the demon. He wouldn't tell me anything beyond that, fearing he might have already said too much. Shortly after our conversation, he vanished into thin air, for no apparent reason at all.

Questions ran through my mind on a loop, so I kept dialing his number and listening to his voice, foolishly hoping maybe I'd be given an answer. For days, the calls were answered by the same message and ended with the customary beep. Until last night, that is.

I dialed and, instead of going to voicemail, the line connected. For a second, the only sound was crackling static like the snapping and popping of a roaring fire. Then, a booming voice that pierced my eardrums roared, Enough!

The line went dead, and my blood still runs cold with terror. I have not needed to call again. I got answer enough.

My Daughter Won't Stop Staring at a Restaurant

C’mon, honey, I urged, tugging my four-year-old daughter, Melody, by her hand down the crowded downtown street. Passersby dodged around us, deftly, but clearly annoyed at the obstruction in their way. We have to get going. Don't you wanna go see the ballerinas?

We were due to link up with my date for a night at the ballet. It would be the first time she’d meet Melody. It was a big, nerve-wracking night, and we were already running late. We were getting off to a bad start.

I hoped Serena would understand. So far in our relationship, she had not been very yielding. I honestly questioned why I was still pursuing something with her, but after my wife passed away a year and a half ago, I felt pressured to put myself out there to meet someone new. To give Melody a female influence and perhaps a new mother.

Despite my tugging and my urging, Melody would not budge from her spot on the sidewalk. I was clearly not the object of her attention anymore, and the ballerinas, whom she had spoken non-stop of for days, had seemingly been forgotten, too.

Melody, sweetheart. What’s the matter? I asked. I kneeled to her level and studied her face. Her eyes were wide, and she gazed intently across the street ahead of us. She didn't answer me. She only continued to stare.

I followed her gaze to where she looked only to see the front of a crowded restaurant. It was a place very familiar to me. One that her

Reviews for FLASH! (Vol. I)

[Sara Stapleton · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

This book needed proofread badly. There were grammatical errors and awkwardly phrased expressions peppered throughout which hampered any enjoyment of the text I may have had. Taking the flash at face value and overlooking the mechanics of the writing, they were poorly constructed. Twists fell flat, stories were rife with cliches, and there was no substance to any story. It read like unedited, half-baked flash someone spent ten or fifteen minutes on and threw up on their Tumblr.

Very amateur effort. I do not recommend, unless you're looking for a text of how not to write flash fiction.

[Evan Bond · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Once again, Roxie Prince has crafted a wonderful collection of stories, each of which will amuse and frighten you. Love to read but don't have time to try and get through long chapters? This book is perfect for you! The stories may be short but they will stick with you hours after you've closed the book. Prince is a master at evoking emotion and crafting suspense all in under 500 words. Horror is one of my favorite genres to read and this book left me far from disappointed. And an added bonus, the book cover is fantastic and looks great sitting up on my shelf!