Evil…Lurking in the Shadows…

Well you guys know how much I love writing flash fiction, right? Some of you may know I’ve written several horror books with a very talented author – Christian Jensen. We were talking and I reminded him hot much readers love flash fiction so… We’re starting a group of stories based on flash fiction. I don’t know what he’s writing and vice versa. But we’re creating kinky, hot, horrific, scintillating and all the things in between. Let’s take a look at his first – and the beginning…

I knew this bitch wasn’t real but the sting of bourbon wasn’t making her ghostly image disappear any. She was dead. I knew this for a fact because I had killed her two night before. Hell, I didn’t just kill her, I savagely smashed her head in with a claw hammer. I tortured her for three hours, slicing through muscle and bone, severing fingers and digging hot, wet organs out of her gut. I slit new holes in her body and fucked each one with a fervor usually reserved for maniacs. I’m not a maniac. I’m an author.

Her name was Storm, and I had loved her since high school. Pale skin, hair as black as a raven’s underbelly, green eyes and full, pout lips. She was gorgeous and had the most rocking body any man had ever laid his eyes or hands on. She was covered in ink now but that wasn’t the case when I knew her in high school. It wasn’t the case the first time I slid my cock into her either. Her skin was pure, snow white with a mean streak. She was thin but not in an anorexic kind of way. She had curves man,bloody murder the kind you could just sit back and stare at all day. Storm had wide hips and big tits, much bigger than a hand full. When she was growing up she tried to hide them but by the time we started partying she was showing those fuckers off like a bad girl should. She had a body built for sin and a mouth that would make the devil blush.

I loved her from the moment she walked into my third period English class freshman year but the cunt didn’t even know my name until four years after graduation. By then I was making a living as a writer and on my way to becoming a big deal. I had just turned twenty two when I signed my first contract with the heavy metal band Abomination of Virtue and had already penned their first big hit. Metal was big back then, not like it is now, and I was the biggest thing going in New York’s hardcore scene. Once punk started getting hooked up to life support all the thrash metal bands came swooping in like vultures and then Metallica had a couple hits and all of a sudden it was cool to be a thrasher. I was sitting high up on the throne as king of the metal heads and loving every minute of it.

When Storm came walking into the club one night I immediately recognized her but she had no idea that we went to school together. She only knew I was the guy who wrote “Poisonous Pussy” and had a dozen other bands fighting over who would get my next hit. I was also working on articles for Rolling Stone, Thrash, and Hardcore magazines, and there was even some talk of a book deal with some big time publisher who wanted me to write a novel. I was rich, young, famous (in my own circles) and good looking enough to grab a different piece of ass every night. Life was good.

Then Storm walked in. That story isn’t as important as why she was dead or what she was doing haunting my ass in this shitty little old man bar in the middle of suburban Maryland.

I killed my first girl by accident. It was early in this century and I was still living well off my royalties. I spent the morning writing like I always did and then headed over to my favorite bar. It was close to the beach in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida where I was living back then. I could smell the salty ocean breeze and feel the sticky heat of group clubthe sun over my t-shirt. A delicate breeze moved the palm trees in a gentle rhythm. There were a few people sitting at the tables on the patio but I preferred the darker, cooler interior. My bartender was working and I smiled at her. She poured me two fingers of Bourbon and served it neat just like I always got. I put a hundred dollar bill on the smooth marble bar top and she placed a salt shaker on top so it didn’t fly away. The drink went directly into my hand.

“Morning Anders,” Allison was built a little too big for me but her dramatic curves made you look. Her massive tits were in direct proportion to the wide hips and thick thighs. She wore a loose fitting shirt that revealed plenty of cleavage and the top of a Rolling Stones tattoo. “How’s the new book coming?”

“In fits and starts,” I tilted my glass to her before pouring half of its contents down my throat. “But in the end it will be something to be proud of. I think you’ll like this one. It’s more akin to Andrew’s Story, just with more blood and sex.”

“How can you fit more blood and sex into a book than you did Andrew’s Story?” Allison read all my books and wasn’t shy about telling me what she likes and what she hated. It was the main reason I respected her and the only thing that kept her alive when every other woman in my life ended up brutally murdered.

“I guess you’ll have to read it and find out,” I finished my drink and placed the glass next to her hand. She immediately sauntered off to fill it up for me. Her hips swayed more than was necessary. “I’ll print out a copy before I get into edits. There’s one section I want your opinion on before I finalize it.”

“You know I love to help,” she noticed another customer walk through the door and gave me a wink before heading towards her. “And reading your best sellers before anyone else is a nice perk too.”

I watched her go because the scenery was good. Then it got a whole lot better. Allison was talking to the new customer, a gorgeous redhead, and trying to motion towards me with a subtlety that she had never possessed. I caught the eye of the pretty woman and smiled. Allison said a couple more things and then walked right over to me without even pouring the girl a drink.

“She wants to buy our famous author a drink,” Allison winked. “And I think she wants to see just how big your…brain is. By Brain I mean cock.” Like I said, Subtlety wasn’t Allison’s thing.

“Send her over,” I had no idea how fateful those words would be. “But tell her I’ll buy the drinks.”

Mmm – my portion tomorrow… Kisses and spanks – Remember to stop by both our sites…


Christian’s Blog Link


About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s