Daily Flash Fiction Contest Entries

Hello everyone! Because I can't have many items, I thought it would be best to compile some things. the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge allows us to post in the forum, so I'm doing that, with a link to this compilation of entries.

Daily Flash Fiction Challenge  (13+) Enter your story of 300 words or less. #896794 by Arakun the Twisted Raccoon

The most recent will always be on the top. They are all titled and dated for the date of the entry.

Dark Tomb - Entry 5/26/11 (Word Count: 200)
A stale breeze passed them on its way out as the descended into the dark tomb. Aaron held up the torch that threatened to go out at the slightest movement of wind. Still he trekked onward, deeper into the forbidden lair of death. His brother trembled, finding the place eerie.

Aaron had talked him into coming along with the talk of fame and fortune. Few had explored this tomb, and even fewer seemed to make it out alive. Jack was a scholar. As they walked, he read what little bit of hieroglyphics were revealed by the torches flickering light. They told of an evil curse set forth by Anubis, the Egyptian god of death.

Jack was superstitious. He had studied this culture in depth, and taught at the university back home. The more he read, the less comfortable he was with going any deeper.

He never was able to talk any sense into his brother though. Aaron was the type that craved adventure and fame. Any new quest to get an easy buck and a pat on the back would draw him in.

“I don’t like this place.” Jack finally broke the death-filled silence as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Aaron looked back at him. “What could possibly go wrong?” He had an eager grin on his face. Aaron thought Jack’s fear of the curses of ancient times were silly. Jack didn’t believe the gods existed, but he did believe in the abilities of the people to make sure the appeared to.

They both heard something creak in front of them.

“What was that?” Jack said, spooked.

“Probably nothing.” Aaron said, dismissing it.

It was then that the floor beneath them gave way, and they fell into the black depths below. Only the echoes of their screams resounded.
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Dark Ritual - Entry 5/5/11 (Word Count: 297 - Winner 5/5!)
The catacombs were dark and gloomy. Tamesis hurried through the halls, his way lighted by only the candle in his hand. The breeze created by his quickened step threatened to blow out the small, flickering flame.

There was no time to waste. If his plan was to be put into action, the ritual must be done tonight at midnight, when the full moon was brightest. Tucked under his arm was a book with a leather-bound cover which hid itself nicely between the folds of the robe.

The book was worn and tattered, threatening to fall apart each time he had read it. Tamesis brought this book with him for one particular page. This page contained a spell. This spell was the one to start the ritual.

Finally, Tamesis got to the deep room where he had been headed, a sarcophagus sitting in the middle of the room in the shape of an altar. There were numerous symbols carved into the stone, but one in particular matched the one on the leather cover of the book. This symbol was a large draconic rune and it covered most of top of the altar.

He sat the book down with a thud on top of the symbol, which began to glow red. Tamesis then opened the book to the page containing the spell and began to read the words. Above him was a small opening, where the full moon shown through, shining down on the altar.

Tamesis slide an ornamental knife from his belt and sliced open his hand. He let the blood fall above the book as he chanted, but it never touched the pages. Instead, it became a red vapor, swirling around him. He laughed maniacally. Tonight, the world would bow to him and his minions of darkness.
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Soccer Shoot-out - Entry 4/17/11 (Word Count 292)
The club soccer finals were almost over. It was the Strikers versus the Scorpions this year. There were only fifteen minutes to go in overtime and the score was still tied 1-1. James, the Strikers’ goalkeeper, was a bit nervous. If his team didn’t score in the next 15 minutes, there would be a shoot-out, and it would be all up to him to keep the other team from winning.

The final whistle sounded. No one had scored. James sighed, looking over at his coach, hoping he would call in another goalkeeper. James didn’t have that kind of luck though. Both teams had a short meeting to decide who was going to kick. The coach told James that he was best in goal.

The first shot went right into the top, right corner. James tried, but couldn’t quite reach it. Lucky for him, his team scored as well. The next shot was right to James and he caught it. On the Strikers’ second shot, they scored again. James was feeling better about this.

By the fifth shot, the score was still tied. On the final try, the Scorpion shooter aimed for the lower right corner. James dove, but the ball went right under him! The Strikers made the final shot. The goalkeeper caught it. The Strikers had lost the finals.

James went back to the bench with his head down. He had let his team down. The coach came over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, James. There’s nothing you can do about it. This stuff happens.” The coach said. James hugged him.

“Thanks, coach. Can we practice penalty kicks this week? I want to get better.”

“Of course.” The coach smiled. Winning wasn’t everything after all.