Frisky Friday Flash Fiction

frisky-friday

Happy Friday! It’s time for another installment in Frisky Friday Flash Fiction. You know the drill. I provide a picture and the first lines of a story (300 words maximum). You get the opportunity to provide the rest. I’ll post the full story the following week.

Let’s look back at last week’s story:

hes-looking-for-me

“Demon Hunters”

He’s been on my trail for years. It’s my fault. Our paths cross, but I always avoid him. He has the power to end my life, but I’m tired of running.

It’s what I’ve done for the past five years. The guy in the blue hat and tie, Kildrake, arrives and I run. It’s either flee or lose my head, something I’m quite found of.

My name’s Lucy Anders, and my family rose up from Hell about a century ago. We came here with the usual intentions—stealing souls and dragging them back to the underworld. But luck wasn’t on my side when I ran into Antoine Kildrake. He stole my heart. We spent one night together. A night where secrets were unearthed. I learned what Antoine was. There was no way I’d stick around for him to discover my identity. So, I ran.

He followed me. I’ve been all over this great blue marble humans call Earth. And in every spot Antoine has crossed my path. I don’t know if he wants to behead me or fuck me. Either way, I don’t want to know the outcome.

And now we’re in the ultimate stare down. Do I run, or do I take a chance and stay?

“Lucy, come here.” It’s the first time I’ve heard his voice in five years.

“You know I can’t.”

“Why did you run?”

“If I had stayed, would you have spared my life?”

Antoine averts his eyes. “Don’t ask questions, I can’t answer.”

Just what I thought. I turn and walk away from him.

“Lucy, don’t go. I just want to talk.”

I wish it were so simple, but we both know the truth. Antoine’s a demon hunter. I’m a demon. No way in Hell, or Heaven, can we be together.

And now for this week’s:

demon-rockstar

Humans call me Mere Llor, and I’m a rock star. I am not your typical rocker, though. When I strum my guitar, souls rock. And when I hit the last note, every one of them has been harvested and ready to send home to Hell. It’s just part of my job. The one I inherited as the niece of Lucifer Morningstar.

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