Sunglasses

Clicking the top of my pen repeatedly I stared at the teacher giving a lesson on Catcher in the Rye.  I think my Dad had told me he read this book when he was in high school.  Going to show you that being a teacher isn’t that hard.  All you do is teach recycled lesson plans and read from a manual.

My attention kept drifting from what she was talking about too staring at her breasts and how the buttons of her white blouse strained to keep them from busting loose for all to see.  It reminded me of the porn I had watched last night before bed.  She reminded me of the porn star to be honest, brunette with large and probably fake tits teasing her students until one was asked to stay late, then they fucked.

Lost in my daydream I didn’t even hear Greg who sat behind me start to talk.  I didn’t like him too much and tended to ignore any shit he was talking about.  He picked on me and called me names and bullied my friends as well, but he seemed to focus on me more lately.  Maybe it was because his family was poor as fuck and my parents just bought me the new iPhone.

“Three O’clock and you’re dead, I’m going to fuck you up.”

His voice was barely auditable, but it was loud enough for me to hear it and the kids sitting around me.  But Mrs. Busty didn’t hear a thing.  Not that the teachers in this school gave a fuck anyway.  They just wanted their paycheck, summers off…ha to think of it they sound like we did.  Until Greg had reminded me about what was going down after school, I was having a relatively good day.  Now my day was a cross between scared shitless and wanting to run home.  You see I wasn’t much of a fighter and the school knew it.  I just wanted to go home and play Battle Royale 3 and jerk off to teacher student porn.

I glanced at the clock; it was fifteen to three.  My phone in my pocket vibrated.  I felt around in my pocket and slid it out just far enough were I could make out the notification.  My friend Peter had texted me.  It said run.  Make up an excuse to leave early and run home.  I didn’t think that was a possibility.  Maybe if I stayed and got the shit kicked out of me the kids at school wouldn’t laugh at me and maybe one of the girls would actually give me a real blow job for being brave.

Looking up at the clock again, it was now five to three.  Where had the ten minutes gone?  I was starting to get nervous and not sure what I was going to do.  Then the bell went off and it was time whether I wanted it to happen or not.  Something was going to go down and it would probably be me with a bloody nose and to the applause of entire school.

I’d then wake up to tomorrow with my images and videos trending on Twitter and YouTube. I would be the next internet super star.  My father told me how when he was growing up there was no evidence of anything he did, and he would tell me how lucky he was to grow up in a time before technology.  I had told him about Greg, he said that I should keep my head up high and not be scared to knock the shit out of him.

With a deep breath I put my books away clicked the pen for the last time and left the classroom heading to the exit where Greg would be waiting for me.  I pushed open the door and I could see him waiting in the playground.  I also noticed a nice pair of Raybans sitting on the ledge of the large brick railing that bordered the stairs.  It was the classic black frames with Rayban written on the temple and the lenses as dark as night.  How could I resist? Picking them up I tried them on.  The sunglasses fit perfectly and I felt a warm fuzzy feeling surround my body, it was similar to the feeling I got at Jeff’s house when we’d steal his parents’ edible cookies.  I felt good like everything was how it should be, I no longer feared the fight that was a head of me.

I saw Greg standing in the open field by the sign of the school, cracking his knuckles and talking to his friends.  Something was said the three of them laughed as a crowd started to gather around them.  It was like the entire school had felt my impending doom.  The next thing I knew I was right up upon them, face to face.  How in the fuck did that happened?  I didn’t even know I was walking.

“Look who showed up, I thought you’d have run home to Mummy.”

“Fuck you Greg.”  I was shocked and surprised at what I had said.  My voice wasn’t shaky and full of fear.  Even the adrenaline that coursed through my body was missing.  This was fucked up.

Greg reached out to pushed me.  I took a step back, dropped my backpack to the ground and looked at him.  “Don’t do that again.”  Fuck, where was this voice coming from.  It was clear I had thrown Greg off his game.  I had never acted like this before.  Through the dark lenses of my sunglasses I saw him clench his fist, cock it, and he threw it.  It hit nothing but air.

To my surprise I had made a fist of my own and I watched it fly through the air.  It was like I was playing a video game and the cut scene just slowed down to show this awesome cinematic part.

It was a perfect shot to his temple.  I felt my hand make perfect contact, a flash of pain went through me and Greg dropped to the ground.  All around me the kids went silent and didn’t move.  They were as shocked as I was.

The first sound I heard was that of old buses pulling away from where they had stopped.  Not making a scene I picked up my backpack and left Greg laying on the ground and took a few steps back.  I didn’t know if he was dead or what.  But he wasn’t moving, he was surrounded by his friends one of which went running to get a teacher to come help Greg.  I ran and didn’t look back.

When I was out of view of the kids, I looked down at my fist.  It was red with swelling and was starting to turn a bluish purple.  How would I explain this to my parents?

“Pussy.”

“Who said that?”  I was alone, no one around me but I heard that voice clearly.

“I said it.”

“What…who is I.”  I took the glasses off and looked around.  Confused.  “Hello?”  I waited and got no answer from that weird voice.  Putting the glasses back on.

“I can help you.  I know your thoughts.  You want that teacher?  We can get her.  You want Sally to ask you to the Spring dance?  We can make that happen.  You help me kid, I’ll help you.”

“Who are you?  And how do you know these things.”

“Don’t worry about that.  Just make sure you keep my lenses clean, keep me on, and together we will be as cool as I made James Dean.”

“Who the fuck is James Dean?”

The End.

Copyright F.C. Janes

Eye Contact

And so it began…

I stared in to the eyes of a man who hated me and wanted nothing more then to see the end of me.  To feel his blade crack my ribs as it slide through my flesh puncturing the most important of organs was his greatest desire.  I didn’t stand in front of him defenceless, I had my own sword drawn, my fingers curled around the hilt waiting and ready.  When I looked into my enemies eyes I always found something new with in myself.  This time as I looked in to cold steel blue eyes of my enemy I felt peace.  My mind was calm and clear of thought.  Even the sounds that echoed around us on the battlefield sounded distant, like it would be days before the battle was at my feet.

He took a step and started to approach me, his breath could be seen in the cool spring air.  I counted his breaths.  One breath…two…three.  He was breathing quickly.  My own pulse started to race, blood from past slayed enemies slowly dripped from the tip of my sword.  Their lives stolen by me on orders from a King that I had never met and was not anywhere near the battle.  The young die so the old may live.  My father use to say until I killed him.  Oh…I’m sorry you thought you were riding along with the hero of the story.  No, that man stood across from me, walking towards me, wanting to take my life.

I had been exposed to death from an early age.  The first time I saw it was with my pet dog.  It had peed on the house floor and my father had beat it until it died.  The second was my father cutting down a curious man who had peaked inside the door of the lodge.  Looking some place he should not have.  My father killed out of blind rage,  I turned to the family business in to one that pays.

The first attack came, a thrust forward that I quickly parried out of the way.  Side stepping in the opposite direction that I deflected my enemies sword.  Bringing my blade around for my answer to his attack.  He recovered nicely deflected my blade but missed my fist that made good contact with his jaw.  His head snapped back, he lost his balance, and for a brief moment I thought it would end here.  With him falling to the ground and me running my blade through his neck so he could drown and choke on his own blood.

Turned out he was tougher than that and stood his ground.  Recovered in time to deflect a two handed blow that would have surely cut his head from his shoulders.  Each attack followed a perfectly time block.  Our dance continued, my own breath filling the air in front of me with a quick fog, only to disappear with in seconds to be made hole with another breath.

There was the sound of a horn, not from my side.  The horn was pure, clean, had a rather pleasing sound to it.  But it caught my enemies attention for a brief moment.  His sword lowered for just a second.  Instead of striking with my blade I had pulled a dagger out from under my cloak, which remained hidden from him.  With a quick thrust my triangular shaped dagger cut into him deeply.  I felt it scrap over bone before sinking deeper in to his side.

My enemies eyes went wide, with a twist I pulled it out and kicked him in the stomach, knocking him on to his back.  I stood over him looking down, his sword fallen from his hand.  Blood bubbling up from the wound.  My eyes not leaving his as I watched the life drain out of him.

I looked forward and saw men running, they were retreating.  I smiled and watched as men and women fighting on my side ran after them.  Wanting to not leave a single one of them standing.  I couldn’t help but think to myself as I watched the hordes retreat that it was a sad day for the free men and women of this world.  Sure, kings fall, some good, some bad.  No different then the one that pays me well to fight.  But I had this odd feeling that this time the weak would be come slaves, the capable would become servants , and people like me would find a different kind of freedom waiting for them in this new world.

 

The End

Prompt: Food

Good Morning everyone!  How are we all doing?  Good….good.  Next weeks prompt is Eye Contact.  I’m looking forward to what my creative mind comes up with for this one.  Considering the prompt food created the short piece of flash fiction below.  As always if you enjoy it leave a like or comment.  I know skipped a week, that is because I had gotten my half sleeve on my right forearm finished and it was rather tender last weekend and didn’t feel much like writing.  Now I have no excuses to miss any other Monday’s.


As a human being I had never thought of myself as food for an animal.  Maybe the first man to step foot out of his cave then immediately eaten by some creature lost to the fossil record.  He probably felt like food but not in 2354.  Now here I am being chased down like I was a barbeque chicken.

I leapt over a fallen tree that’s trunk was easily the size of my lander.  Thanks to the jump jets on my TSE suit it made it look easy.  Looking over my shoulder to see if the darling creature I had stumbled upon during my mapping mission of planet X0-1 had been able to follow me.  To my surprise it did.  The snarling purple with green spines running down its back had extended webbing from its side.  Basically it turned it’s self into a kite and it was a bit to close for comfort.

Glancing down at my arm where a small view screen showed a greed dot which was me and a red dot which was my lander.  That is where I was heading as quickly as possible.  The distance between the green dot and the red dot was shrinking but not fast enough to give me any kind of relief.  Again I looked over my shoulder and the creature was gaining on me.  I pushed myself and my suit to its limits.  The TSE suit did give me better agility and strength.  It didn’t offer much protection from claws and teeth.  Those two things is what worried me the most.

Raising my arm I punched a set of commands in to my wrist computer to open the rear hatch of my lander.  It was about six feet wide and ten feet tall.  More then enough room to let me in and the creature following me.  I had to have at least four seconds on the monster to allow me enough time to close the hatch behind me.  I had everything ready to go.  The lander flashed red telling me the rear hatch was open and waiting, I just needed four seconds.

The tree’s started to thin out and a valley opened up.  I could see the lander there, rear hatch open waiting for me.  I felt like it was calling out to me, urging me to run faster if that was even possible.  The lander was down hill which gave me an advantage but it also worked for the creature.  I would be sure to put a warning to anyone else visiting this planet to stay the fuck away.

I was now ten feet from the lander I jumped and landed in the hold slamming against the back wall.  It was about 20 feet deep.  I pressed the emergency close button on my wrist computer.  The door hissed and slammed shut.  Breathing heavily in my suit caused the impact resin visor to fog up.  I rolled on to my back and through the fog of the visor I stared in to the face of the creature.  “Oh shit.”

 

The End.

Dance

Now that I’m over that damn cold I was fighting.  I have something to share with you all.  As I’m sure some of you are aware I’m doing my best write a prompt story per week.  The prompt for this week was Dance.  Next week the prompt will be Food.  If you plan on joining me I’d enjoy reading what you came up with.


Dance

Standing with the flintlock rifle raise the carriage slowed.  The collar of the highwayman’s long leather cloak flipped up high and tied up at the front with buttons. Keeping the lower half of his face hidden from sight.  The cloak hid two back up pistols he had strapped on his person, which could be easily reached through fake pockets.  His large brimmed hand pulled low covering his face in shadow.

“Woah there!”  The driver said while pulling on the reins.  “Don’t want no trouble mister, please step aside and let me pass.”

Lowing the rifle into a position that he could raise quickly if needed he stared at the driver.  “Good sir, I have a question and then I will let you on your way.”

“Ask yer question.”  His hand sliding to a pistol hidden beside him.

“I plan on robbing the people of their goods in side that carriage of yours, and I am wondering if your employer see’s fit to pay you enough to raise that pistol you have hidden and play a game of chance or if a you’d rather step down from your seat and disappear?”

There was a stretch of silence.  It was clear the driver, an older man, his better days long past was considering the words of the man that stood in front of him.  Many years his younger and a rifle that was so clean and so well kept it caught the rays of sunlight through the trees.  It was clear this highwayman was not bluffing.  “Good sir, I am thirsty and I do believe there is a town not to far back the way I came.  I think I’ll get myself a drink.”  Tying up the reins  on the bench seat he sat on he stepped down.  Brushed his hands off on his pants and made a quick jog back down the road.

 

The drapes that were pulled shut cracked and eyes followed the driver as he ran down the road.  Panicked whispers could be heard coming from inside and the highwayman walked up to the carriage.  Being sure to stay in a position where he could use the windows to his advantage and being sure the line of sight he gave the people sitting in carriage was limited.

“To the people sitting inside the carriage I have four things I need you to do.  As I speek these things I expect to see it happen or I will fire in the window and I hit who I hit.  I can rob you of your goods or you life.  One, how many of there are you?”

There was some confused whispering then a woman yelled.  “Four.”

“ Two, I want your weapons tossed out the window, this means firearms and knives.”  The highwayman waited but nothing happened.  “If I don’t see weapons falling to the road, the person sitting in the front right window dies.”

Weapons started to drop out of the window, two pistols, two knives.

“Good, three, I want you to step out very slowly, hands in the air.”

The highwayman knew that this is where things got dangerous.  This is generally where people did desperate things.  He had strapped the rifle over his back and had his hands were in fake pocket gripping both pistols.  The door was pushed open and slammed against the carriage wall.

“Settle down now.  Be good and slow.”

The highwayman watched two rather stunning women step out and wore  sour looks on their faces.  He couldn’t tell if they were disgusted by him or that their lovely spring dresses of blue and yellow were being dragged in the dirt.  Behind them exited a man with his hands up.

“Where is the fourth?”  From around the corner of the carriage and man appeared holding a pistol.  The lord who tired to play hero was no match for the highwayman.  The second it took the young lord to round the corner, the highwayman had his gun up, fired, and the lord collapsed to the ground.

The women screamed at the sound, worried that the shot was directed at them.  When silence returned they realized that a man lay on the dirt, rolling side to side, holding his gut, a white wig laying not far form his head.  The man was moaning.

“See what happens when you get stupid.”  The highwayman said.  “This didn’t need to happen.”

The women in the yellow dress ran to the man who was in sever discomfort.  “You killed him.”  She yelled.

The highwayman shrugged, it wasn’t the first life he took and he knew it wouldn’t be his last.

“How dare you!”  The man said and took a step forward towards the highwayman.

Another pistol was raised and pointed at the would be hero.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“You have no honor killing a man like that.”

“Honor is not a concern of mine.” The highwayman glanced down at the dying man, an ever expanding pool of blood formed around him.  “Your ladies jewelry and whatever coin you have on you, are my concern.”  Tossing a leather pouch to the man.  “Fill it and you may have time to get him to a doctor before he bleeds out.”

“I think not!”  The man spit on the ground while the women coward behind him.  “I challenge you do a duel, to a gentlemen’s death.  Which is more than you deserve.”

“I really don’t have time for this, just fill the pouch.”

“Coward!”

The highwayman was no coward, he did have a rapier on him and he could use it.  He looked at the young lord.  “If you wish to die as well, I do not mind sending you to the reaper like your friend.”  Undoing the buttons to his cloak he raised a sword, keeping one of the loaded pistols in his hand until he was sure this was not a trick.  The young lord had his rapier out quick and was already walking towards him.  The highwayman decided to raise his pistol, pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

The young lord stood there smiling.  “It would appear God is on my side.”

“No, just luck.”  The flintlock pistol did not spark, silently the highwayman cursed himself.  Tossing it away he realized this dance was about to start.

 

The blades came together as the young lord attacked.  Expertly the attacks were deflected by the highwayman until the young lord drew the first line of blood with a lighting fast slash that tore a razer sharp opening in the highwayman’s cloak drawing a line of red on the tanned skin under it.  The highwayman flinched but noticed the young lord was taking satisfaction in the strike and the highwayman returned attack of his own.  Cutting the thin silk of lords shirt the young lords stomach was cut open and cut deep.  The thin fabric giving no protection.  Quickly the young lord’s hand went to his stomach to try to stop the bleeding but it was to late.  The highwayman followed up with a quick thrust and the point of the rapier pierced deeply in to the chest, the young lord collapsed.

Before his mind could register the shot the highwayman felt his chest burn and fell to his knees.  Looking up at the lady who stood in front of him holding a smoking pistol.  “Where’d you get that?”  Falling face first in to the mud of the road he joined the two men on the road to the reaper.

 

The End