To Sleep (600-word freaky flash fiction) by Oren Shafir

I stepped on the teenage girl's narrow sandaled foot with my hard black heel. Crunch. She whimpered, and I registered her look of pain and surprise, but I just moved straight past her. I was too tired to speak.

Source - Photography Mojo

A drop to drink (a 100 word freaky flash fiction horror story) by Oren Shafir

For the first time, Jason thought that they might just actually die out there. That his naiveté might have cost him not just his own life, but that of Gina, and God help him, his unborn child. The jeep was far away now. The farm farther. And home farther still. 

Golem (800-word freaky flash fiction) by Oren Shafir

Image from Der Golem film 1920

Heinrich only kept him alive because he amused the men. Eliyahu spoke four languages, and he could tell you the full name, birthday and birthplace of everyone in the camp, be they officer or soldier, Jew or gypsy, communist or dissenter, man, woman or child, alive or dead.

But Eliyahu was an idiot really. A giant idiot, with a coarse and abnormal face, less like man than dog really. He would ramble on incomprehensibly mixing information about errand lists his mother must have given him back in his little Jew village - about what to get at the butcher’s and what to say to the Rabbi - with random passages presumably from the Jewish holy books.

Appointment at the top (180 word freaky flash fiction) by Oren Shafir)

Is this the longest escalator in the universe, or is it just because it is so late? So dark. Because the ceiling is so high? The place so still and empty?  I fight the urge to run back down, but I know they’d only find me – and my family.

I look at the ads rolling by on the side. I see coke, and I think car acid. I see green-pea soup, and I taste vomit. I see a baby in a shiny white diaper, and I picture shit oozing out of the elastic seams and running down its chubby thighs. For a second, I think I can smell it. My stomach burns, and I feel dizzy.

Finally the top comes into view. Maybe, I think, they do just want to talk. I feel lighter. Yes, of course. How absurd am I. We can still work this out. I can make them see. 

The tips of shiny hard shoes appear. Followed by uniform-blue pant-legs. A thick black belt with pouches, lots of pouches. Then, I see the holster.

It is empty.

 

END

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