Storage. Flash Fiction.

“How many are stored here?”
“Well, at the moment we have just under a billion residents, but we are at only 23% capacity, there’s still plenty of space.”
Joanne knew it wasn’t one of the larger storage facilities, but that still seemed almost incomprehensible. How could so many people fit inside such a place? She couldn’t even imagine it, she’d grown up in a small, exclusive town with only ten million people.
“it didn’t look that big from the air.”
The woman giving the tour smiled, “It never does. It’s pretty unassuming and that is both for our protection and the protection of our clients. There are a lot of groups out there against storage, but we have great security to deal with any threats that come our way.”
“Do you get many threats?”
“Nothing we can’t handle, a couple of hundred a week or so. Usually they’re just letters, maybe once every year or two someone will try to sneak in and blow the place up but our state of the art scanners and security system find and neutralise them quickly. The current average is about three seconds for detection time and elimination”
“We keep the main facility deep underground for maximum protection and space. We keep the main building above ground as an entrance portal, it’s the only way in or out of the facility. You will be completely safe during storage.”
“Oh, it isn’t for me, it’s for my father. He asked me to tour a few of the places. He wants somewhere safe and discrete.”
“Of course and here we provide both safety and discretion.”
“How often do you rotate the bodies in storage?”
“Every three hours the bodies are moved to prevent bed sores. We have advanced medical technology built right into the chambers that keep constant track of the clients. Should they detect anything wrong that they cannot handle alone they immediately notify the hospital wing and the client is sent there for treatment. We have not lost a single client in over a two hundred years of operating.”
“May I see one of the storage chambers?”
“Of course, for privacy reasons we cannot show you one that currently has a client inside, but we’re more than happy to showcase an empty model.”

the tour guide walked through the corridors, still talking but Joanne had stopped listening, the place seemed good enough so far and really she was only here because her father refused to do his own legwork and she was in need of funds. The guide stopped in the middle of a corridor and pressed against the wall though Joanne could see no button, a section of it slid aside revealing a metal bed about waist height. It seemed small and dark, but the person inside wouldn’t care, not while they were unconscious.

After a moment the panel slid closed again, “This concludes the tour, unless you have any more questions. If you want a more in-depth tour I’m afraid it will take a few hours to clear you to enter. We keep the space extremely clean and you will be required to wear a full biohazard suit to prevent the introduction of pathogens.”
“No, thank you I’ve seen more than enough.” The tour guide started walking again, Joanne trailed after.

At the exit she was handed a packet of brochures and information leaflets before she was ushered out the door. Joanne stood for a moment, looking at the vast, flat wasteland around her. There was nothing here but that building and low, dead looking bushes. She smirked, the setting would really suit him. She walked to the shuttle, the door opening as she approached, “Are you ready to return?”
“Yes, thank you.”
She got onto the shuttle and chose a seat, then she spread the brochures out on the small table in front of her. The shuttle rumbled faintly as it came to life, she barely even felt the take off. She scanned over the brochures then tidied them into a little pile before leaning back in her seat. Already she could see space outside the windows of the shuttle, wouldn’t be long until she was back on the ship. This was the place, she could feel it. Her father could rot away here for millions of years and no one would ever find him, small enough to be over looked, but not too small that it would provide shoddy care. She had heard how these places worked and she didn’t want to kill her father, not outright, but if someone happened to mix up his paper work and he was lost for a few millennia, well, it would just be a tragic mistake, that was all. One that would allow her to take everything her father was refusing to give to her, she would have her birthright one way or another.

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Preservation. Flash Fiction.

Brad grabbed his bag and got out of the truck, several men in uniform jumped out and quickly gathered in formation before moving off, leaving Brad and another man alone at the truck. The man ignored Brad, he was focused entirely on a laptop. Brad looked around at the empty town, just like the others. It was the sixth town so far to go silent, each of the towns appeared normal enough, no fires, no damage. Cars were parked neatly at the side of the road, stores had their shutters open and their doors unlocked, houses had family meals laid out on the tables. The only things missing were the living, there seemed to be no life, animal or human, inside the town. Brad leaned against the truck, as a doctor there was little he could do until there was an injury or a survivor was found. He wasn’t sure why they insisted he go on every mission, particularly after the fourth empty town. At that point the pattern was pretty obvious to anyone with a brain.
“I’m going for a look around.”
The man didn’t look up from the laptop, “Don’t go to far, don’t turn the radio off. Don’t go inside anywhere.”
Brad rolled his eyes and walked away from the truck, as the sounds of clacking keys faded he realised how truly quiet it was in the town, no sound of engines rumbling or birds singing, there wasn’t even a breeze to rattle the trees.

Almost two hours later and the team was back at the truck, Brad had spent most of his time in the town square, sitting on a comfortable enough wooden bench while he waited for something, anything to happen. “Same situation as everywhere else, like the people just vanished en masse. No signs of struggles or injury.”
“Hey, what the hell is that?” one of the soldiers was pointing over Brads head, he turned quickly and saw a bright wall of light moving towards them rapidly, Brad heard shouting behind him, someone grabbed his shoulder roughly and started dragging him. Brad shook off the hand and started running, the truck was only ten feet away if they could get in then-the light washed over him, blindingly bright.

When Brad opened his eyes again he was standing in the middle of a large, silent crowd. He tried to turn his head but couldn’t, the only thing he could move were his eyes. He spotted one of the soldiers standing a few feet away from him, his name was Joey or Jack, something with a J. His eyes were wide and moving back and forth. Brad tried to signal him but the solider wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at something behind and above Brad’s head. Somewhere there was a loud sharp siren, then the rumble of water in pipes before he could hear it splashing to the ground. The room was filling up quickly, already he could feel the water at shin height, after another minute it was just below his chin and a few seconds after that started filling his mouth. The liquid was bitter and burned as it began rushing down his throat, he tried to move, to swim, to cough but he couldn’t. The burning in his lungs intensified then everything went dark.

Brad woke suddenly, one moment everything was darkness, the next it was absurdly bright. The sun was rising and it was right in his eyes, he was in the town square again. Had he fallen asleep on the bench? He went to shade his eyes but couldn’t. His heart started beating faster, thudding heavily in his chest. He spotted other people they all looked like statues, from this distance he couldn’t see if their eyes were moving too. He felt something poke at his back, a short, sharp prod. An alarm blared, “Please do not touch the attractions. This is a protected area.” someone was yelling behind him, but he couldn’t make out the words, it was English, but the speaker seemed to have some kind of speech impediment. Brad tried to scream as something stepped into view, it was above five foot tall, with two long arms that reached to the ground, its face was circular and wide, with several eyes dotted around it’s skull in a ring. It opened it’s mouth. Thin and full of sharp teeth, it spoke and he recognised the speech impediment. A second later a smaller one ran into view and grabbed the taller ones hand, pulling it towards another frozen person.

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The Factory. Short Story.

Hope everyone has had a good weekend! I haven’t been feeling the best the last few days but getting better!


Douglas pushed open the door to the factory, he expected a groaning shriek but it opened smoothly and quietly. He stepped into the darkness and groped at the wall in the gloom. After a minute of searching he felt the familiar hard plastic of a light switch, he flipped it and a second later the overheads started flickering to life. As he waited for them to fully light he looked around the large factory, the machinery seemed to be in great condition, and was more modern looking than he expected. Sleek, silver metal gleamed in the overheads, it didn’t even look like anything needed a wipe down. Douglas closed the door behind himself and walked down the length of the factory, looking at the machines as he went. He didn’t know what most of it did, but it looked impressive, tall shining things that promised him the world, if he could just get them working again. The factory had closed down almost a two decades before, when his grandfather had retired and no one else had been willing to step in and take up the reigns. All that was about to change, it seemed that the factory went to Douglas’ deadbeat father, heavy emphasis on the dead now, and that it had been passed along to him when his father had died a few weeks before.

Douglas paused at one of the machines, he climbed the short ladder attached to the large drum and peered into the chute, he felt a rumble of unease as he looked at the gleaming blades, one slip was all it would take. He climbed down again, they’d need to improve safety standards no doubt, someone could fall right in. He studied the control panel, which was deceptively simple. A large red button that seemed to be the on/off switch, a bunch of buttons that seemed to control speed and a row of final buttons simply labelled “output.” Douglas pressed the red button and the machine groaned to life, the rumbling was peppered with a few grinding shrieks and then it smoothed out. The machine chugged along, almost gently, in a way that reminded Douglas of a train, the steady, even beat that was oddly soothing. The sound started to speed up slightly, as though the machine was impatient to get started. Smiling to himself Douglas pressed the button again and the machine slowed to a halt. Yes, this place was going to be great.

Douglas flicked on the overheads and started walking, the machines looked almost alive in the flashing lights, the quick shines and gleams made them look as though they were lurching through the darkness. Douglas smiled to himself as he walked, it had been ten years since he opened the place and it was more successful than he could have imagined, he didn’t understand why his grandfather had closed the place down. Douglas suspected it might have been the maintenance ritual, or perhaps he thought his sons would run the place into the ground. Douglas went into his office and walked behind the desk, the office was smaller than he would have liked, but that was going to change soon once they expanded. A whole new factory, hundreds of machines, maybe even thousands. He unlocked then pulled open his top drawer, inside was a sheaf of long, thin fronds. They were pale yellow and though slightly pretty they unremarkable. Douglas took out a handful and started weaving them together with deft fingers. It didn’t take long for him to have a small doll in his hands, the first one had taken him hours and had been a lopsided mess this one however was almost perfect. Douglas closed the drawer and locked it, then he went back onto the factory floor. He picked a machine and turned it on. It groaned and clanked to life, faster than usual, or so Douglas thought. He carefully climbed the ladder and dropped the doll inside. It disappeared almost instantly, torn apart by the sharp, merciless blades. Douglas hopped down from the machine and grabbed the mop and bucket as blood started to ooze from every gap.

The machine stopped bleeding a half an hour later and a half an hour after that Douglas had it gleaming again, no one would ever know. As if right on queue the door to the factory opened and a homeless man stumbled in. He was dressed in layers and layers of filthy rags. Douglas stepped to the side and hid in the shadow of the machine. He watched as the homeless man scurried forward, head down and shoulders hunched. Machines would momentarily spring to life as he passed, pushing him forward with a threatening whirr or groan. The homeless man himself started moaning as he approached the machine, the machine spun to life. The homeless man didn’t paused or slow, with the same steady pace he climbed the ladder and with one final short scream, he dove head first into the blades. The machine shuddered underneath Douglas’ hand, then slowly stopped. Douglas stepped back from the machine smiling, it seemed to be glowing brighter in the harsh light of the overhead, he brought the mop and bucket to the back room and gave them a thorough cleaning with bleach. As he left the building he turned off the lights but didn’t bother locking the door. Any criminal stupid enough to enter the factory would get a nasty surprise. Douglas strolled into the darkness, humming to himself, it was a good nights work.

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Remembrance Day. Flash Fiction.

“Everyone have a good view? It’s going to start in a second.”
Dan moved closer to the edge of the building, the cold wind grabbing at his coat. Around him the crowd bunched together slightly, trying to share warmth. The real party was being held inside, but first they had to see the kick off. A large 10 appeared above their heads, floating in the sky above the city, there was a brief pause then it started counting down. Dan could feel the flutter of anticipation in his stomach as he watched the numbers count down, as it hit three the crowd started counting down, as they all yelled one it started. Large screaming streaks appeared across the sky, whistling and shrieking, somewhere in the distance there was a large boom and a flash of light, others quickly followed. People raised their glasses and cheered as more and more booms filled the air. To Dan it almost felt like the building itself was shaking. He could hear the sound of air raid sirens, that awful whooping noise that haunted his nightmares. Searchlights lit the sky, scanning wildly, occasionally they would find a target and follow the holographic drones until they were shot down, smashing into buildings in an explosion of lights that left the buildings undamaged and untouched. Then one of the drones was falling towards them, Dan flinched back as it smashed into the side of the roof, you could still see where the old part had been replaced. It exploded, sending shrapnel of lights into the laughing and shrieking crowd. As the crash signalled the end of the most exciting part people started to drift from the edge of the building and most seemed to be making their way inside. Dan followed quickly, draining his drink and grabbing another from a passing tray as he went. He always hated the Night of Remembrance, ever since he was a child. He didn’t understand why they needed to recreate the battle with these light shows. Mostly he kept those thoughts to himself, anytime he’d brought it up he’d been labelled as a killjoy and on more than one occasion, unpatriotic.

Dan enjoyed the warmth of the room as it washed over him, people were chatting now, the light, soothing piano music filled the room, blocking out most of the noise from outside. The festival would continue for the rest of the night, until the final bomb fell and then the buildings that had been hit would appear to be on fire, the flames growing with the rising sun before fading away. It really was quite beautiful, if you didn’t think too hard about what you were looking at. Dan grabbed another drink, there was nothing more he’d love than to just go to bed, but it was tradition that everyone stayed up until the last flames went out. Around him people were laughing and chatting, Dan stood at the window, looking out at the flashes of lights, hearing the faint booms and crashes. He remembered watching the holographic people jumping from buildings when he was a boy, how if you went to the streets you could see bloodied holographs stumbling around in shock. They had been removed from the recent displays, they said it was because it was too distasteful and vulgar, Dan knew it was because it showed people the true horror of war. Now it was reduced to almost nothing, just pretty lights and loud sounds. Dan turned from the window, feeling faintly sick, he took a slow deep breath then a sip of his drink. He just had to get through this night then it would be over again for another year.

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Bright, Happy Day. Flash Fiction.

Hope everyone had a good weekend! Was great watching the snow fall and going for walks. We had about 9 inches of snow, I’m a little bummed we didn’t get the full brunt of storm Emma for more snow, but I’m still happy with how much snow we did get! It’ll probably be a long time before I see that amount of snow here again!


“Good morning Emma.”
Emma blinked, then rubbed her eyes, “Good morning Buddy.” she stretched as the lights slowly came to life. Emma threw back the covers and got out of bed. To her left there was a faint click, as she slid back the cover of the food cubby to grab her morning coffee her bed folded into the wall. She took a sip of the coffee and sighed, “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome Emma. Would you like to go over your schedule for the day? Or perhaps the headlines of the day?”
“No, just be quiet please.” Emma took another sip of coffee, she had never been a morning person, something Buddy seemed intent on changing.

“Your breakfast will arrive shortly, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Shower, medium please.” a panel on the wall slid back, revealing a shower stall. Emma stripped out of her pyjamas as water began to spray from the nozzles. Once she was undressed she stepped into the shower, still drinking her coffee. The water covered her, then stopped, a light mist was ejected from the nozzles, Emma spun slowly, raising her arms to make sure she got everywhere. When she was covered the spray stopped and returned to water, the spray started flaking from her skin and after a few seconds it was completely gone. The water turned off and another panel opened, revealing a clean robe. Emma slid into it, enjoying the warmth. She stepped out of the stall and looked over at the still covered window. “Buddy, please raise the shutters.”
“I must warn you that as you have not had your pill this morning, raising the shutters could cause some discomfort.”
Emma rolled her eyes, that’s what it said every morning. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, please open the shutters.” The shutters rattled as they were raised, Emma was paying extra for an apartment with a window, she didn’t want to squander it. Emma squinted out the window, the thick smog was obscuring most of the city, it looked kind of pretty, the bright lights flashing through the clouds. At least it was prettier than the endless sky scrapers. Emma turned from the window and started getting dressed, if she dawdled Buddy would be on her case again.

Emma looked over herself in the mirror, “How do I look?”
“Great, very professional.”
“Thank you.”
There was a click as her pill arrived, the food panel slid back and revealed a single white pill. Emma grabbed it and dry swallowed the pill. “I’ll see you later Buddy.”
“Have a wonderful day.”
Emma stepped outside her apartment and into the filthy hall, old graphitti covered the walls and the floor was covered in stains and dirt. Sighing Emma closed her eyes and counted to ten, when she opened them the filth was gone, the walls were clean. Emma started walking.

Every morning she looked around herself as she went, at all the clean buildings, the beautiful trees, the wide open spaces. She knew that wasn’t what the city really looked like, everyone did, but it made things easier, it made the filth just fade away, made you forget that you hadn’t been outside in nine months, made living like this bearable. She could feel the faint upswing in her mood already, building on itself as she walked. By the time she reached the office she was smiling widely, today was going to be a great day, she could just feel it.

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The Grind. Flash Fiction.

The snow hit! Woke up to about 9cm of snow outside and it’s still snowing on and off, seems like we’re in a bit of a break for the moment but it’ll start again in another few hours! And the worst is still yet to come, looking forward to the potential blizzards tomorrow, apparently hasn’t been a blizzard in the country since the 80’s. Super excited, absolutely love snow and we barely get any!

Hope everyone is keeping warm and safe where ever they are!


Olivia took a deep breath, enjoying the coppery tang of blood in the air. It always reminded her of being a young girl and the days when her mother would bring her into work, explaining how each part of the machine worked and what it did. The machine was running as fast as it could, clinking and groaning as it strained to go faster. The conveyor belt moved quickly, moving the dazed and unconscious people into the machine where they’d be disassembled both for food and parts. The people on the conveyor were strapped down to ensure they couldn’t escape, should they have a change of mind. The company was quite generous in its benefit packages to loved ones and they guaranteed it would be painless. The bodies would move through the machine, important parts, like blood and organs, would be separated from the less important. Anything that was less important was ground up and sold as animal feed and sometimes used to bulk out foods for human consumption. Olivia’s job was easy, monitor the machine and the conveyor belt, make sure nothing became jammed and no one escaped and if any problems arose she was to fix it, any means necessary. It happened sometimes, people changing their mind and somehow working their way free, usually when they realised there wouldn’t be any anaesthetic. Just last week a man had freed himself from his restraints and rolled to the side, he’d been ripped into the giant cogs and crushed, well, smeared would be more accurate. Olivia had spent two hours cleaning up the worst of the gunk and they had to hose the rest of him off in the end. Olivia didn’t care why the people were here, suicide, political prisoners, it was all the same to her. She was paid well and she loved her job, below someone still conscious let out a brief shrill scream before the machine chewed them up completely. Olivia looked at the gauges and readouts in front of her, she smiled in satisfaction, everything was going smoothly.

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The Great and Powerful. Short Story.

Hope everyone had a good weekend.

I watched a couple of documentaries that were pretty good, Crips & Bloods: Made in America, Earthlings and I Know That Voice. I’m not going to lie, I covered my eyes at various bits in Earthlings, it’s pretty intense with some awful imagery but defintely worth a watch.

Looking forward to the forecasted snow here too, seems like we’re going to get lots and as a snow lover I’m really looking forward to it! Not often we get much, if any, snow.


Janice weaved her way through the milling crowd, the speeches didn’t start for another half an hour but everyone seemed to be moving towards the stage anyway. Janice didn’t really know why, it wasn’t like seeing those on stage would make the speech any better and no matter where you stood in the large field you’d be able to hear them as though they were standing right beside you. People held large signs and placards, she didn’t bother reading them, she knew what they’d say and there was only so many times you could read a catchy rhyme calling for your death. Not her death specifically of course, people never imagined a short girl with mousy brown hair as one of the Fallen. No they thought of tall, statuesque men with rippling abs and bright blue eyes that pierced through your soul. They thought of Sanctity, standing on rubble, bodies scattered all around as his eyes glowed that strange icy-blue. Or Charity, floating above burning buildings, her blonde hair splayed around her head as people ran screaming. No, they never thought of the half-breeds, the ones like Janice. Janice was unremarkable, she wasn’t particularly pretty, but nor was she ugly, she was one of those people that always seem to be shunted off to the side, alone and unacknowledged. Behind her she saw a young boy whinging for cotton candy while his tired and angry looking mother dragged him from the stands. Janice hated it when there were kids around, it wasn’t the kids fault his parents were jackasses. Besides, what sort of irresponsible monster would bring their child to an event like this? Everyone knew that going to a rally was a risk, one of the Fallen could show up at any moment.

Janice stood in the middle of the crowd, getting jostled back and forth as the people around her shifted. A fat man in a pair of jeans and a stained t-shirt elbowed his way past, he carried a large cup of beer in each hand and by the reek of him it wasn’t his first drink. That was the thing about these rallies, they tried to paint it as exercising free speech, as just airing their grievances, but then they had stands set up selling beer and hot dogs. Most people in the crowd seemed to have already had a few drinks and there was a faint party vibe to the place, it wouldn’t take much to get them all riled up, maybe they’d go out looking for one someone to blame their problems on. Wouldn’t be the first time one of the rallies turned into a lynching, usually someone too stupid or too fresh to hide their powers. Behind her someone was shouting, “Yeah I’d just like to see them try it, if they come here I’ll kick their ass. See what happens if they try that shit here.” Janice rolled her eyes, he’d be the first one to start running if he knew what she really was. She glanced at the stage, it wouldn’t be much longer until the speeches started.

Janice listened to the speeches, allowing herself to see the crowd for what they really were. They were screaming and cheering as those making the speeches called for her kind to be imprisoned and calling for death of those deemed too powerful to live. Janice felt sick, but it was important to see it, hear what they were saying because the simple truth of the matter became clear. These people wouldn’t stop, it was kill or be killed and Janice had no intention of dying or spending the rest of her life in prison. She could feel the energy in the crowd starting to shift, it was exactly what they had told her to watch for, it was like a current moving through the crowd, infecting everyone. On stage the senator was finishing his speech, he smiled at the crowd, his white teeth gleaming, he banged his hand on the podium, punctuating each word, “Death to the Fallen!” the crowd repeated it, turning it into a chant, it wouldn’t be long until they spread out, searching for victims. Janice took a deep breath and felt the burning heat rising in her stomach then she closed her eyes and smiled. Those closest to her didn’t have time to scream, the flesh burned from their bones almost instantly. For Janice the world melted away, becoming nothing but that glorious scorching heat. When Janice opened her eyes the world slammed back into place, she could smell the burnt and burning flesh, the plastics melted to skin, hear the screams of people around her. She stumbled through the bodies, covered in scorch marks that would easily wash away. No one looked at the young girl stumbling over the bodies, no one noticed her as she slipped into the crowd of injured.

Five minutes later she was swiping the soot off her face with moist wipes, washing away the evidence as best she could. The scream of sirens filled the air, Janice got into the getaway car and started driving, a haze of smoke filled the air, she flicked on the radio and found a station playing songs. She’d watch it all later tonight on TV, when the reports were clearer, then she’d have a good idea if anyone had spotted her or not. Not that she was too concerned about that either, even if they figured her out she’d be long gone. The car would be ditched in a few miles and by the time evening rolled around she’d be a blond with a short bob rather than a brunette with long hair. She felt good, better than she expected and this was only the first stop, there were more rallies being held and there was only one clear way for her to spread the message.

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