The Midnight Shock

Manny started awake in the middle of the night. A commotion outside his bedroom window sounded like someone had been electrocuted while being drowned in a metallic barrel.

He carefully peered through the blinds, the lights off so as not to draw attention. This might be some kind of zombie invasion or purge situation. But whatever created all that noise was nowhere to be seen.

Manny waited a few moments, then laid back down and fell asleep.

The next morning, the headline read, "The Midnight Shock Serial Killer Strikes Again." His preferred method of killing: electrocution in a metal barrel.

Lightning

“Are you ready?” Tim asked.

“Somewhat,” Clara answered, holding a child by the hand. “Who can be? Are you?”

“You want to know like the rest of us,” interjected another neighbour.

“It won’t be pretty,” Tim struggled, unable to say more.

A shuttle-bus pulled up to take them, along with others. They drove down Main Street. Shock froze their faces. Some sobbed.

“Mother nature started it,” the driver said, shaking his head.

Lightning struck the forest outside town limits. Wind fueled the flames in the direction of their town.

“My house is gone,” Clara choked back tears. “Yours too, Tim?”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Movie Night

We’re watching men on the screen sprint along a parapet overhanging a sinkhole. They look down at the spot where the earth opened up, and see their shock reflected in the face of the moon. One actor inches forward while the audience holds its breath. “He who jumps into the void owes no explanation to those who stand and watch,” my man intones. Why must he always quote others, trying to pass off their words as his own? I’m sick of it. “Goddard said that,” I snap. “So?” he says before he vacates his seat, the movie house, my life.From Guest Contributor Cheryl Snell

Cheryl's books include poetry and fiction of all sizes.

Dear Amy

CONTEST SUBMISSION:

Here’s what happened: The huntsman burst in wielding a knife, and lunged at me! In my shock, I coughed up the Grandma. I said sorry, truly, and ran off, hoping to mend my ways. I wound up in a bar in NYC, drinking with humans who were all peace and harmony, until one of us bit one of them—justified! Then it was omg throw them out. Now I’m back in the woods, in the heart of temptation, where every guy and his girlfriend is noshing on Grandmas and Little Reds. How can I resist? What should I do?

Wolf

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

Linda's stories and poems have appeared online in Outlook Springs, A Story in 100 Words, Star 82 Review, BOMBFIRE, Misfit Magazine, and others.

Small Mercies

Her father had come out a year before he died. Her parents had been divorced more than a decade by then and the news probably shouldn't have comes as such a shock. At the eulogy, she lamented not handling his announcement with more compassion. She would never be able to understand what it had been like for him, growing up in small town Indiana.

She left the election viewing party early. She needed to cry alone. It was the first time she was glad Dad had died. He was spared having to see the wheels of progress start rolling backwards.

The Veil Of Light

My body wakes to join my mind in shock as scenes of a distorted world vanish, and realization sinks in. The darkness of the world I inhabit dissipates, and the light arises once more. Haunted by the past and present, but none so terrifying are they to the unknown of the future. That eldritch thing that lurks behind the veil of light, creeping across the land and praised by the Cult of the New Dawn. I lie here in fear, hoping and praying that I possess the strength to face it once more, to conquer the daemon of the day.

From Guest Contributor Michael Atherton

Bankruptcy

The company declared bankruptcy this morning. Everyone is in shock. No-one saw it coming.

Overnight the company’s liquid assets vanished. No-one seems to know why or how.

In a numb state, I work as quickly as possible preparing the forms and statements the incoming Liquidator will require. My heart is not in it.

The Directors need to sign the documents. I enter the Boardroom freely, the door isn’t locked.

The five directors are standing around the boardroom table. Each has a suitcase open on a chair beside him. The table creaks under the weight of the cash piled on it.From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

Barry O'Farrell is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry's stories have appeared in Cyclamens & Swords, 50-Word Stories, and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.