The Hungry

The Hungry

By Nomar Knight

     I have been called by many names. Feared by thousands. So many lives succumbed to my insatiable appetite. On a night like countless others, I strutted along the city streets among the multitudes of boastful creatures, each engulfed in his own miserable existence. My observation of the beasts while they played their games grew into a morbid fascination. Too bad they never knew that they’re struggles were pointless. They took their surroundings for granted and used each other for selfish gains. They inhabited a fruitful planet suited for my talents since strength was rewarded with the spoils of victory. The ruthless cretins conquered only to succumb to my fancies. 

     I followed Mr. Wonderful into a bar and grinned at how he exuded the utmost confidence. His brown hair barely combed to the right, fell into place as if he had commanded his body to follow his will. He sat at the bar like the world owed him everything. The young female bartender cooed as he whispered in her ear. She blushed and promptly fetched his drink. 

     Once Mr. Wonderful got what he needed, he turned and faced the patrons sitting at the tables and booths. He scanned the room like a lioness eyeing a field of antelope. He failed to notice the disappointment plastered on the bartender’s face. The temptation to reveal her good fortune passed as the hunger reminded me that I had to remain still and look unassuming. 

     Mr. Wonderful stepped off the stool and inched his way towards me. I pretended to see him for the first time and grinned as if in disbelief. The smug look on his face signaled that I was not worthy of the self professed titan’s presence, but I resisted a chuckle, knowing he played into my hands. 

     “Is this seat taken?”

     He lowered his glass toward the empty chair. Without uttering a word, I shook my head slightly, making sure my blond hair didn’t hide my face. He had no idea that we had spent an intimate night. There was nothing more revealing than peaking inside a man’s dreams. 

     He placed the drink on the red tablecloth and offered a hand. “Hi, I’m Armando.”

     I smiled, careful not to flash my pearly whites and gently placed my hand on his. 

     He held on to it, leaned closer and whispered, “This is where you tell me your name, blue eyes.”

     I giggled and shuttered, allowing him to feel my energy, knowing that he would take it as a sign of flattery. Experience allowed me to mask my intentions with expert precision.

     “I’m Karma.”

     His eyebrows furrowed in surprise. Mr. Wonderful chuckled in a controlled manner, blocking the outside world from seeing his imperfections. 

     “Were your parents hippies?”

     His ignorance confirmed a millennium of pure inbreeding. His kind craved the hunt in order to feel superior.

     “No, they were stockbrokers. Now I’m alone in the world.”

     I sounded sad and innocent. 

     The sparkle in his dark eyes confirmed my ability to push the right buttons. 

     “Do you want to get out of here, Karma?”

     The hunger inside me released. Men like Mr. Wonderful could never get enough. They mistook it for pheromones of lust. 

     I rose from the chair and whispered in his ear, “Sure, but be gentle with me.”

     We got in his blue Lamborghini where I let him feel every crevice of my body. We kissed and my hunger reached a fever pitch. 

     He said, “I want to be inside you.” He unzipped his pants. 

     I pretended to be helpless and said, “No, not here.”

     “Come on, Karma! It’s dark here. There’s no one around. No one can see or hear us.”

     “But I’m nervous.”

     He jumped on me, searched for panties, yet found none. Then he smiled, “Why are you fighting it, baby? You know you want this.”

     I tried to meagerly push him off, but he was too big, too strong. I yelled, “I can’t because I lied to you.”

     He stopped. “Lied about what?”

     I trembled as though completely helpless, looked away from him, and said, “My name isn’t Karma.”

     He chuckled. “That doesn’t matter, baby.” He tried to force himself inside me. I lifted and flung him, smashing his back against the driver’s side window, cracking it. 

     He screamed, “What the hell?”

     “Allow me to introduce myself, Mr. Wonderful. I am The Hungry.”

     His screams and his soul satisfied my thirst, for the night.

  

- 806 words  

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Breakfast is Served

Breakfast is Served
By Nomar Knight

Jacob lived on a dairy farm. His days began while the blackness of night dominated the landscape. Grass and shrubs were home to his precious milk producing cows. He maintained the milking station well lit. His herd remained hooked up to the machines when his ranch hand, Chester, called him outside. 

“Boss, what in tarnation is that light in the middle of the field?”

Jacob scampered out to see what Chester was fussing about. He had grown weary of cattle thieves throughout the years and his experience made him reach for his double-barrel shotgun. It didn’t take him long to spot a bright light at the bottom of the hill. 

“I did a headcount. All the cows are here.”

Chester spat tobacco and mumbled, “Maybe someone’s trying to steal old Bronco.” 

He referred to the ornery bull who mated with the cows. 

“I’m a go and see who’s out there. If I ain’t back in five minutes, you call the sheriff’s office.”

“Boss, whoever it is is on your property, if I was you, I’d shoot first, ask questions later.”

Jacob snickered, “I bet you would.” He shook his head recalling how Chester had served time for nearly killing his brother over his choice of music. 

Jacob hustled down the hill in his jeep. He mumbled, “I’ll blast the no good cattle robbing lowlife.” 

Upon arriving, he spotted a little fellow, covered in mud. 

“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” He pointed his shotgun at the scrawny, dark haired stranger. “This is private property. You’ve got no business here!”

The stranger grinned and said, “I’m almost done, chief.”

“Almost done with what?”

A thud surprised Jacob. “I’ll shoot you, damn it!” 

The man tossed his shovel aside. Jacob followed it and spotted his prized bull on the ground with its head bashed in. 

“Get out of the hole, now!”

The man grinned, and opened a lid to what appeared to be an old wooden coffin. He wiped his hands on the bull’s bloody head and disappeared from view. Jacob had no choice but to get closer. He leaned and saw the stranger dripping the bull’s blood on a corpse’s mouth. 

“What kind of a sick, city slicker are you?”

Jacob froze when he saw the sack of bones rise from the coffin. 

The man said, “Master, I brought you a meal on wheels.”

Jacob gazed, confused and disoriented at the odd pair. When he gathered his wits, he pumped his shotgun. The noise drew the creature to him. Before Jacob could squeeze a round off, his screams filled the night. 

The grinning stranger said, “Breakfast is served!” 


- 500 words

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Vampire Chronicles: Trapped by Fury

Vampire Chronicles: Trapped by Fury
By Nomar Knight


     Loneliness could force some people to change their safe routines. I had begun the second month of my vacation annoyed that boredom refused to release its grip on me. To motivate my writing, I took long walks on the beach, enjoying nature’s soothing waves and majestic enchantments. The frustration of the Vampire Lorraina’s story hemorrhaging away into oblivion’s unpublished canyon, spooked me into a dormant state. Somehow, I had lost that magical connection to Lorraina’s motivation. The prospect of not finishing the book haunted me. 
     I hadn’t noticed that my wanderings in nature were becoming routine. It wasn’t until two men approached me that I realized my error. 
     There was something about the men that set off my internal bad guy alarm. One of them was a few inches shorter than me and had one hand in his pocket. The other, a big husky fellow, had a scar on his right cheek. They looked like two low-lives intent on mischief. I prayed for the power of invisibility. They stepped in front of me. 
     The small one produced a knife. The tall one balled his hands into fists and said, “Give us your money and your wallet.”
     When I was in a somewhat relaxed state, I had thought the waves to be soothing. Upon being threatened, the waves sounded angrier. 
     “You caught me at a bad time. I’m a struggling writer. Haven’t sold a book in months.”
     The short one waved the knife in front of my face and growled, “We don’t care about your problems. Give us your watch and ring too or I’ll stab you, then rob you.”
     I hadn’t thought about how I would react in a dire situation. The right thing to do would be to submit to the crooks and give them what they wanted. However, my adrenaline increased to the point I wanted to grab the little guy’s neck and snap it. The big dude must have picked up on my intentions because he punched me in my stomach. 
     “Wait.”
     I tried to plead for my life, but before I knew it, the big man had me lying face down in the sand. He plunked one knee on my back and said, “Get his wallet!”
     I had expected the shorter one to follow the brute’s orders, but instead I heard him yell. 
     “What the?” The big guy uttered, “Where did he go?”
     The brute got off me, allowing me to get to my feet. 
     “Leon!” he said, “Where are you?”
     Overcome with curiosity, I asked, “What happened?”
     The big guy scratched his head. “One second he was reaching for your wallet and the next, he was gone.”
     I noticed he didn’t have a weapon. I figured, one on one I could take him. I balanced my body in a fighter’s stance. 
     The big guy grinned, “You’re too slow for me, old man.”
     Screams! Bloodcurdling screams came from behind a large dune. 
     The big guy’s dark face grew pale. 
     “Was that your friend, crying like a little girl? This could only mean that my bodyguard is nearby.”
     “What bodyguard? You’re always alone.”
     Just as I had suspected. The two crooks had been observing my summer routine.
     “Lorraina, I would call her my guardian angel, but she definitely isn’t an angel.”
     From a distance, I spotted the vampire Lorraina Sandoval strutting towards us. Her long, illustrious, red hair swayed in the wind. When she got within a few feet, she licked the remnants of the remaining blood off her lips. 
     “Mmm, Leon was tasty.”
     The big guy remained motionless. I couldn’t tell if he was awestruck by Lorraina’s beauty or if he was hypnotized by her powers.
     I grinned, “This is when you run, dummy!”
     “Nomar, you haven’t been using your vacation wisely.” Lorraina frowned, “Why aren’t you finishing my story?”
     I shrugged. 
     She pulled my face to hers and kissed me. The taste of Leon’s blood lingered on her warm tongue. 
     Alas, the big guy spoke, “Where’s Leon?”
     Lorraina ignored him and whispered in my ear. “You lack the proper motivation, darling.”
     The big guy made the mistake of grabbing Lorraina’s shoulder. She spun, snapped his wrist, and then tore it clean off.
     His screams competed with the rushing roar of the waves. 
     “Hold this, Nomar.” She handed me his bloody left hand. I tossed it on the ground like a hot piece of coal. 
     Gurgling sounds confirmed that Lorraina drained the big guy’s life old school vampire style, puncturing and draining blood out of his throat. His body writhed as if he had touched an electrical live wire. She released the corpse when she finished. 
     I snapped out of my shock and uttered, “Thanks for saving me yet again, Lorraina. I really need to get home now, you know, finish writing your book.”
     She laughed and it took all my concentration not to soil myself. 
     “You still have three weeks left of your vacation.”
     “Yes, I will spend most of it, on your book, Lost in Darkness.”
     “I wish I could believe you.”
     I didn’t like the way she stared at me. She was still in predator mode. 
     “Don’t worry, Lorraina, this display of gruesomeness will haunt me in a productive way.”
     “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
     “What does that mean?”
     The vampire Lorraina Sandoval kept me prisoner in my own home. She threatened to snack on me if I didn’t get to work on her book. 
     To think I had been bored this summer. The old adage rang true, “Be careful what you wish for.”

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Don't Cry Tonight

Don't Cry Tonight 
by Nomar Knight


     “Don’t cry tonight.” He whispered near Linda’s half bitten ear. 
     For months Mike had watched Linda as she strolled in the park. He loved how the pink highlights gleamed on her silky blond hair. Her petite frame and innocent face could fool most predators looking to bag a child, but he knew she was of legal age. Her white skin made Mike want to slide his tongue all over her body. He imagined she’d taste like sweet nectar. 
     Bloodshot eyes pleaded with Mike. 
     “If I remove the tape, do you promise not to scream again?”
     She nodded. Her blue eyes elevated to the restraints on her wrists. 
     Mike yanked the tape and pulled a soggy handkerchief from her mouth. 
     Linda stretched her jaw and whispered, “Water.”
     Mike squeezed a plastic water bottle, allowing the precious liquid to squirt inside her mouth and over her chapped lips. 
When he was done, he placed the bottle on a tray next to his instruments of torture. 
     “Why can’t we be lovers, Linda?”
     He stood behind her, twisted a chunk of her hair around his fingers and sniffed. “Ah, you smell wonderful.”
     “Please,” Linda whispered, “Let me go.”
     He ran his fingers down her naked back. He loved how she shivered when touched. 
     “Is it because I’m fat?”
     His six foot frame towered over her. He frowned when she averted her eyes so as to avoid his stare. Mike grabbed her cheeks, forcing her eyes to meet his and shouted, “You think you’re too good for me! The other girls made the same mistake. The first thing I removed from them was one eye.”
     Tears streamed down Linda’s face. Her lips puckered as if she was about to bawl. She tried to choke in the sobs, but alas, the realization must have been clear for she screamed as if struck by a sledgehammer. 
     “Shush, don’t cry.” Mike picked up a hair brush and began to straighten the blond curls. “I can show you love like no one else could.”
     He whistled a familiar tune to calm her. He smiled when recognition lit her eyes. 
     “Linda, don’t forget that I never lied to you. Don’t ever forget how I felt about you.”
     “Why are you speaking in the past tense?”
     Mike whistled some more then he whispered, “Guns N’ Roses had it right.”
     He put down the brush and picked up a seven inch blade with a jagged edge. He continued, “You have to make it on your own. Don’t worry, you’ll be alright.”
     His eyes wandered toward the ceiling. The abandoned factory had proven to be an excellent choice. 
     “Let me go.”
     “Mike, my name is Mike.”
     He stepped closer to her and held the blade against her throat. 
     “Tomorrow will be better. You won’t be in pain anymore. Enjoy the sunrise.”
     Again Linda wept. She shuddered and prayed. 
     Mike kissed her cheek and said, “Don’t cry tonight. You’ll be in heaven soon.”
     He put the knife back on the tray and picked up a spoon. Confusion invaded her stare. He could see her thinking. 
     “Mike, maybe I can try to love you.”
     “The other girls said that too before I cut off their tongues.”
     He used the spoon and pried out her right eye. Her screams gave him a boner. 
     Afterwards, shock must have set in for she whimpered softly. 
     Mike hugged her. “That’s okay, baby. Don’t cry tonight. Don’t cry. We’re not done yet.”



 655 words

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Vampire Chronicles: Thrill of the Chase

Vampire Chronicles: Thrill of the Chase
by Nomar Knight


     I hid behind bushes knowing my body had betrayed me. I had become easy prey for the vampire, Lorraina Sandoval, and there wasn’t anything I could do to escape. 
     Screams! Loud, sickening screams raged nearby adding to my woes. I tried to rise off the ground, aware the shrubbery would no longer hide me from the hungry night hunter. A shooting pain throbbed in my right ankle. 
     The mortified screams ceased, allowing for the sound of angry waves crashing to shore. 
     In my mind I yelled, “Get up! Run! You can’t die, not here, not now.”
     I knew it was a matter of time before she would find me. 
     To think that the day had started out with my looking for a way to relax. The previous euphoria of writing Lorraina’s story, Lost In Darkness, and the subsequent block when I began the chase scene in chapter ten, had led me to seek solace at the beach. I had arrived in the evening, bottles of water tucked in a small cooler. I relished taking a much needed break from the mundane routine of every day life. The sunset did not disappoint. Orange and purple skies slowly dipped in the horizon. 
     “Come on! Lorraina, why does my chase scene suck so bad? What am I missing?”
     Like any writer, I tended to speak to my characters as if they were present in the flesh. Although, I made sure to be alone. People who didn’t write wouldn’t understand. They would declare me a viable candidate for the funny farm. 
     The skyline faded and suddenly I was surrounded by tiny stars. Glare from a majestic moon left me in awe. The lull of the crashing waves, coupled by a cool breeze, made me wish I had brought something stronger than bottles of water.
     “Okay Lorraina, tell me what happens next.”
     The old saying, be careful what you wish for flashed in my thoughts. The overwhelming feeling that someone watched me, made my skin crawl. Goosebumps formed on my arms. 
     “It’s just the cool breeze.” I mumbled, “No need to be afraid.” 
     “Good evening, darling!”
     I sprung off my blue beach chair and turned. “What the?”
     The vampire Lorraina Sandoval grinned like a cat about to swallow a canary. Green eyes contrasted with her black attire. 
     “How’s the writing coming along? Have you sent my story to the editor?”
     My knees shook. Suddenly, my lips went dry. “I’m stuck on chapter ten.” The tremors in my voice betrayed any attempt at hiding my fear. 
     She licked her red lips. “What seems to be the problem, Nomar?”
     There was something about the way she spoke my name. Her voice dropped in a whisper as if she was forbidden to say it out loud. 
     “I’m stuck on the chase scene. The opening is boring.”
     One second she stood in front of me, the next she hovered by my side. Her cold breath pressed against my left ear. 
     “Who’s point of view did you write it in?”
     I knew the predator could hear my heart pounding. It took all the courage I had not to run. 
     “I used Roman’s.”
     Lorraina laughed. Her evil cackling had me scanning for a latrine. Maintaining the contents in my stomach proved challenging. 
     She whispered in my ear, “Have you ever been chased, Nomar?”
     All thoughts seemed to vanish. I couldn’t move. I didn’t dare think about anything but gaining distance on the predator. 
     I managed to step back and uttered, “I don’t recall.”
     “I haven’t fed yet.” She batted her eyes, brushing her red hair away from her face. “I’ve grown tired of you, dear.”
     For a brief moment, it sounded like she had spoken from inside a tunnel. The meaning of her words filtered into my mind as if caught in a vortex of confusion. When I realized what she was implying I wanted to have the power to time leap to another dimension. Preferably, to somewhere Lorraina Sandoval could never find me. 
     She flashed fangs, “Run, Nomar!”
     Although my mind knew what to do, it took awhile for the flight signal to get from my brain to my legs. Once in motion, the sick laughter of the terror queen filled me with dread. Thoughts of stopping and giving up entered my mind.
     “No, keep going.” I said out loud.
     I had to get away from the soft sand as soon as possible. I had to make it to the maze of high bushes by the road. 
     My analytical side took over, interfering with the frantic attempt at escape. 
     “What are you doing? You can’t outrun her. She’s a killing machine.”
     “Shut up!” Talking and answering myself was madness.
     The fact that insanity clawed its way through me added to my apprehension. I imagined running in slow motion as if stuck in a time warp.
     Just when I spotted the road and my gray Corolla, the sudden change in terrain brought me down hard. My right ankle had twisted on a crack between the dirt and cement road. Sand stuck to my sweaty arms. My ankle began to swell. 
     She shouted, “Keep running, Nomar!”
     I had been held in Lorraina’s arms before. Heck, I had even known the pleasure of making love to her. The idea of giving up faded when I spotted bushes a few yards away. 
     “Hello, darling.” Her voice sang a few feet behind me. 
     Somehow, I got up and made it to a set of vast shrubbery. I didn’t understand why she toyed with me until I recalled Lorraina enjoyed playing with her food.
     I dropped to the ground again, wounded and without hope of escaping. I knew the surrounding bushes did not keep me hidden, plus, my struggle to take in gobs of air betrayed my location. Lorraina was the best hunter I had ever met. My sad fate served to remind me that there were too many things I had not yet accomplished. 
     Sudden screams jolted me upright. I had to fight on. I needed to survive, yet curiosity made me step in the wrong direction. Instead of continuing to my vehicle, I limped to where the screams had originated. I headed to the vampire Lorraina. 
     The intimacy in which she embraced a woman who had been jogging, made my jaw drop. Raw power blended with a sweet tenderness. To the average person, it appeared as if Lorraina and the woman were copulating. However, I knew the truth. I witnessed the taking of a fragile life. When she was done, she guided the woman’s corpse to the ground. The poor lady had jogged in the wrong place at the wrong time. 
     “Nomar,” Lorraina shot to me so fast that she held both my hands in hers. “Remember what you felt during the chase. Maybe you can use it for another chapter.”
     For a moment I got lost in her green eyes. She continued, “Chapter ten should be written from my point of view. Never forget what Roman is and let discovery play with the readers’ minds.” 
     The fog that had trapped my writing into obscurity began to lift. The allure of new, horrible discoveries made me grin. 
     Lorraina pressed my lips to hers. The blood of an unfortunate victim invaded my palate. She let me go and smiled, flashing her fangs for effect. 
     “Why did she have to die?”
     She shrugged, “Even vampires need nourishment.”
     I spat, “We are in modern times. You don’t need to kill anymore.”
     She shook her head. “Where’s the fun in that? You are still so naive.”
     In a flash, Lorraina Sandoval vanished, allowing me to live to continue her story, Lost in Darkness.   

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Eternal Fire

Here's the link to the poem, Listen to the Madness, that inspired the characterization dialogue exercise titled, Burning Damnation, which inspired tonight's flash fiction piece. Enjoy!


Eternal Fire
By Nomar Knight


     “It’s no use to try and wriggle free, you will burn, witch!”
     The townsmen watched as Katrina struggled with her bindings. Lord Mortimer took charge of providing justice.
     “You’ve all gone mad.” She scanned her executioners with a defiant gleam in her eyes. “I am but a simple midwife.”
     Lord Mortimer sneered, “You poisoned our Lord’s wife. She gave birth to an abomination.” He signaled two men carrying lit torches and continued, “He had to kill it and for that, you must pay!”
     The men lit the wood. 
     “No! Don’t light those twigs!” Outrage poured from her voice. 
     Lord Mortimer considered himself a firm, and righteous man. With smoke rising before them he said, “The flames of hell will consume you.”
     He pretended to walk away, but quickly turned and faced Katrina for effect. “Did you not see the look on my Lord’s face when he saw the beast? Did you not hear his whimpers when he was forced to stab the thing through the heart?”
     Katrina coughed and scoffed, “He played with the devil and lost.”
     “No, you evil witch! You alone are responsible for the tragic event.”
     Lord Mortimer wished he could inflict more pain upon the evil wench. 
     “Please, untie me.” Katrina’s voice broke as her lips quivered from desperation.
     Lord Mortimer grinned, “You can cough and gag all night, but your pleas fall on deaf ears.”
     “Please!” Tears streamed down red cheeks. “Mercy!”
     Laughing, Lord Mortimer turned to the bloodthirsty crowd. “The smell of witch defiles the air. Compatriots, cover your mouths, lest she poison us all.”
     They all laughed and jeered.
     While the flames consumed her legs, Katrina growled through clinched teeth. “I swear before the Dark Lord, evil will fall upon all who misjudged me.” In a childlike tone, she added, “I gave her a potion to save the child, but alas, the innocent paid for the sins of the father.”
     “So you admit to sorcery?”
     With immeasurable agony on her face she replied amid cries, “Doctoring is not witchcraft.”
     “What satisfaction to hear the evil witch scream!” With his chest out he proclaimed, “The flames of justice are beyond your powers.”
     Panting and screaming, Katrina said, "I...curse...all...your...firstborn...”
     The crowd gasped!
     She continued, “Deformed...faces...full...of...thorns.”
     The flames grew larger, covering Katrina. 
     “Die Witch!”
     Refusing to succumb to the flames she said, “Families...will...starve.”
     Feeling smug, Lord Mortimer smiled, “Your words have no power here.”
     Whispered from the cackling flames, “Starve...for...eternity.”
     Lord Mortimer yelled, triumphantly, “Rot in hell!”
     To this day, it is rumored that the ancestors of those who misjudged Katrina can hear her whispers, just before the curse reignites the eternal flame that brings deformities to their firstborn, and the destruction of their crops.

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Vampire Chronicles: Wolf's Blood

Vampire Chronicles: Wolf’s Blood

By Nomar Knight

     My vampire stalker, Lorraina Sandoval, bit me. The traumatizing event lived on in my recurring nightmares. On most nights I would wake feeling that my dreams were real. I’d gasped for breath and pant as if I had been running for my life. The sound of a chorus of nocturnal creatures hooting and singing, transferred to my conscious state. The noise echoed around me like a crowd cheering for a gladiator. I hugged myself, shivering from the cold.

     “Why is it so chilly tonight?” I mumbled.

     I couldn’t help but notice what a wuss I had become since moving from New York. I cringed at the thought of how my friends would tease me if they could see me shivering. The thermostat read a comfortable sixty-five degrees. The cool Caribbean breeze made my bones ache. My knees snapped, crackled and popped when I got out of bed.

     “I don’t know what you did to me, Lorraina, but I’m still human.”

     When my alleged fictional character had saved me from getting killed by a mugger, she revealed that Marie Sandoval, her twin sister, watched over me. 

     “I don’t believe you, you egotistical lunatic!”

     I waited to see if my insults would draw her out of the darkness. I hoped Lorraina would appear from nowhere and show me once again how vampires made love. Unfortunately, all I got was the continuing sounds of night, followed by dogs barking nearby.

     I slipped on a t-shirt, fetched a bottle of water, and sat on my sofa, wishing for my luck to improve. Sadness remained an unwanted companion. It appeared my most exciting characters had abandoned me.

     Halfway through the bottle, I noticed a subtle change in the atmosphere. I didn’t have the usual tightening in my stomach like when Lorraina would stop by. In fact, I couldn’t identify what was different, just that something had changed.

     I felt compelled to open the main door. I did and immediately wished I hadn’t. A black wolf growled, bared sharp fangs and drooled. Its red eyes froze me in place.

     “There are no wolves in Puerto Rico.”

My statement served to enrage the creature even more. It inched its way forward, ready to make a meal out of me. I thought about ordering it to be still, hoping that by displaying authority, it would stand down.

     “Sit!”

     The sucker leaped and knocked me flat on my back. It’s teeth lingered dangerously close to my throat.

     I remembered thinking that I was a goner for sure. A wild beast that was completely out of place would see to it that my latest vampire book, LOST IN DARKNESS, would never see publication.

     “Heel!”

     The wolf got off me and stood next to a dark shadow. When I managed to take my eyes off the creature, I spotted a pair of amazing legs encased in tight, black leather pants.

     “Lorraina?

     “Guess again.”

     Marie Sandoval sported a soft smile. Her eyes made me feel welcomed. It felt as if I had known the vampire my whole life, but alas, aside from dreams, we had never met.

     “Sorry about Thunder. He tends to be quite impatient.”

     Marie helped me off the floor. Her luscious red hair cascaded over athletic shoulders. Emerald eyes weakened my knees.

     “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

     “I bet you said that to Lorraina too.” She grinned.

     I stepped away from her as she reached for me. The realization that Marie was a vampire put me in survival mode. The wolf growled.

     “Shush!” Marie scowled at the beast.

     The animal rested its head on the floor. Red eyes fixated on me.

     Marie’s eyes revealed compassion. She whispered, “I would never hurt you.”

     I couldn’t believe how different she was from her twin sister. Lorraina loved playing power games. Marie seemed human.

     One second she was standing, the next, she sat on the sofa.

     “I’m not human.”

     She flashed her fangs and patted the seat so I could sit next to her. A sudden urge to run to the bathroom eventually passed as she smiled, hiding her lethal incisors.

     “Why are you here?”

     She bit her wrist, blood trickled down her hand. “Drink my essence and you shall see.”

     I smiled and sat near her. “Will I become extraordinarily strong?”

     Marie giggled. “True Blood is fiction, baby. Drink and take the journey.”

     I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She put her bloody arm to my lips and I sipped from the ancient vampire. My surroundings vanished. I no longer sat with Marie in my living room. Instead, I sprinted through trees and bushes in a dark forest with only a full moon providing illumination. My tank top ripped from thorny bushes.

     I heard voices closing in.

     “Don’t let him get away!”

     “No witnesses!” Shouted another.

     The sound of a firecracker exploded behind me. Something whizzed past my left ear and struck a nearby tree .

     Just minutes earlier, I had been hiking in the forest, clearing my head for the night,  when I had stumbled on to four men. I hid behind some greenery and saw one man exchange a bag of cash for what looked like packets. I had no idea if it was cocaine or heroin, but I figured it was illegal on account the guy counting the money got shot in the chest. The other man with him met the same fate.      He took two rounds to the chest and one to the head.

     Normally, my cellphone didn’t have a signal that deep in the woods, but as luck would have it, the damn thing made whistling sounds. I ran as fast as I could because my life depended on my past skills as a runner. Unfortunately, I was a sprinter, not a marathon man. Sharp pains nailed my ribs and stomach. Nausea threatened to make me stop running.

     I never saw the rock so I stumbled and fell. I crashed over more rocks and landed hard on the ground.

     The two gunmen caught up to me.

     “Shoot him!”

     A dark skinned man approached. Cold dark eyes revealed his intent. He pointed a nine millimeter pistol at my face. His finger was on the trigger, ready to end my existence. In a flash, I saw a black blur and the man was on the ground. A hairy beast silenced his cries. Gun shots rang. One of the rounds came within inches of my head as it took a piece of wood off the tree trunk. The second shooter screamed for a brief moment, but was silenced. The nocturnal creatures remained quiet. All I could hear was the sound of the beast gnawing at the dead man’s neck.

     My head throbbed in pain. Blood trickled down my face. The black beast with scary red eyes sauntered to me. The smell of death inched closer until all I saw was the soothing darkness.

     The gooey tongue of a canine shook me out of my stupor. When I glanced around my living room, I noticed that I was alone. Marie and her pet, Thunder, were gone.

I assumed she could still hear me so I said, “Lorraina wasn’t lying. Thank you for protecting me, Marie. I owe you one, Thunder.”

     Perhaps some day I would write about the wolf that had saved my life. I was  thankful to be alive and welcomed the cool Caribbean breeze with open arms.  

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Seduced by Evil

Seduced by Evil
By Nomar Knight


     During the waking hours, Blade was a control freak hellbent on stealing innocence from the weaker sex. He had lured his prey on lies and false hopes until they bowed to his will. Turned on by whimpers and screams, fear became his addiction. It wasn't long before he looked to dominate in my realm with fantasies designed from the bowels of hell.
     Entombed in the world of dreams, Blade’s arrogance masked his vulnerability, seducing me for yet another night. My identity, obvious yet obscure, haunted his fabricated chamber of love.
     "Who are you?" he asked.
     His curiosity coaxed me to abandon the shadows. At first, he smiled, thinking that I too would succumb to his whims. His sapphire eyes glowed in anticipation of another victim falling for his shallow charm.  
     The image I projected of beauty beyond words weakened his knees. I caressed his smooth face, puckered my lips, and with tenderness, planted a kiss.  
     "Is this real?" he asked.  
     Unaccustomed to having his way so quickly, I saw his eyes sparkle with a diabolical contentment. Lulled by a false sense of reality, he allowed me to stroke his curly hair, nibble his earlobes, and plant kisses along the back of his neck.  
     My core burned with desire and I smiled in anticipation, delighted at his naive nature. The heartless made such easy prey.
     As soon as he opened his essence, the distortion, which my spell cast, lifted with slow, deliberate malice.  
     "Huh, what are you?"
     The new illumination brought forth by darkness revealed my true identity. Panic enshrouded his face and a cloud of fear seeped from his soul.The rude awakening sent shock waves throughout his body, empowering me even more.
     In my domain, surprise became my biggest weapon.  His jaw dropped when I plunged a dagger into his chest.
     "Scream my Sweet, for in the realm of dreams I am the only one who can hear you."
     He shrieked--gripped with terror, not knowing what to do as his adrenaline intoxicated me with sheer pleasure. Somehow, he gathered the strength and shoved me aside to flee, only he tripped over his own feet.
     "Trying to leave?" I whispered in his ear. "We're just getting started."
     This time I lifted the blood-coated dagger and listened to his screams. His expression changed to repulsion when my face turned from a model’s beautiful glow to a hideous abomination. Euphoria consumed me as I listened to the rhythm of his heavy breath blending with fear’s exciting crescendo. 
     Drip.  Drip.
     Again I struck, slicing his outstretched palm, basking in the symphony of my demonic lust.
     Drip.  Drip.
     "Please," he begged, "let me wake up."
     He reminded himself as if reciting an incantation that it was just a dream, just a dream.
     By now his body moaned in his sleep and turned over in his bed.
     I lurked above him, wiping the blade, mixing his fresh blood with mine and cooed in rapture. Its intoxicating scent filled my mind and quenched my thirst. With the essence of our precious liquid infused together, I lapped up every single drop until the blade sparkled. The delicious ritual left me breathless and him weak.  
     Aware that I couldn't allow my slave to wither away, I disappeared into the shadows, releasing him from my bond. I smirked as he awoke confused and disoriented. Satisfied, I let him be, counting the hours until our next rendezvous. I beamed with devilish delight, completely aware that soon he would be foolish enough to allow me to take another piece of his soul and claim it as my own.  

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

March Madness: Red Rose

Welcome to my version of March Madness. I will post several brief scenes showing characters embracing insanity. Here's the first.

Red Rose

By Nomar Knight

     Phil Daly never forgot the night a weird stranger came in to the diner he worked at. As a short-order cook, Phil observed some strange people, but none like the man in the black raincoat. It was a humid night, and the place was filled with prostitutes and johns looking to regain some energy. The occasional police officer would stop buy for a quick coffee and the usual small talk with Thelma, the fifty-nine year-old waitress. Thelma was busy serving the other patrons and flirting with cops half her age. The weirdo took a seat located in the middle of the diner. He sat quietly, rocking back and forth.      

     It seemed to Phil that something wasn't quite right. The man's salt and pepper hair was disheveled. He maintained his coat on and appeared to look straight ahead at an old jukebox that was playing Return to Sender by Elvis.

     When the officers left, Thelma finally approached the man and greeted the stranger with a smile until she got a close look at his face. "What will it be, mister?"

     The man maintained his stare at the jukebox and said, "All I want is a red, red rose."

     Thelma glanced at Phil and shook her head. Then she said to the stranger. "We don't sell roses here. Would you like some coffee?"

     The man remained silent so Thelma took it upon herself to fetch him a cup of coffee. Then she went over to Phil and whispered, "Something about that guy gives me the creeps."

     "Take care of the others and give him some time. Maybe he's trying to decide what to order."

     She rolled her eyes and did as Phil suggested. After a few minutes she went with pad in hand and asked the stranger, "Are you ready to order?"

     The man continued rocking in place, staring at the jukebox as the Beatles played Let It Be. He spoke louder, "All I want is a red, red rose."

     Thelma put the pad in a pocket in her apron and sighed, "Sir, there's a flower shop two blocks from here, but they don't open for another four hours."

     "All I want is a red, red rose."

     The man practically yelled.

     Thelma shot Phil a worried glance. Just when Phil was about to call the police, a pair of uniformed officers entered and greeted Thelma. She took them aside and explained the situation.

     They both approached the stranger. The younger of the two said, "Do you need help, sir?"

     "All I want is a red, red rose."

     The older officer asked, "Are you lost? Is there someone we need to call on your behalf?"

     The man stopped rocking in place and for the first time, shifted his stare from the jukebox directly to the officer's eyes. 

     "My wife."

     "You want us to call your wife? What's her number?"

     The man looked back at the jukebox and began his rocking, but the older officer placed a hand on the stranger's shoulder then removed it.

     "We want to help you."

     Again the man turned to the officers and said, "My wife is mad at me."

     The older officer grinned, "Shucks, I'm married, my wife is always mad at me. Is that why you want the red rose?"

     The stranger smiled and slowly rose from the chair. He acted as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

     "All I want is a red, red rose."

     The younger officer said, "The flower shop is still closed, but you can buy her one when it opens. Why don't you let us take you home?"

     "My wife," the man fidgeted on his feet. He glanced around as if the walls were caving in on him. "I broke her heart."

     The married officer said, "I figured that. Don't worry, the flowers should help make things like they were."

     "Impossible."

     The officers looked at each other then back at the stranger. The married one said, "Nothing is impossible."

     The stranger put a hand inside a pocket and pulled out a red rose. It was soaked with a red liquid.

     "Is that blood?" The younger officer's eyes bulged upon seeing the flower.

     The man reached in his other pocket prompting the officers to draw their weapons. Then he opened his hand. "This belonged to my wife."

     The stranger held a human heart. 

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

Silent Rage by Nomar Knight

Silent Rage

By Nomar Knight

A quiet storm raged inside me. Students laughed at my expense. I wanted to get up off my knees and punch Carlos in his face. Instead, I begged him to leave me alone. 

“Kiss my boot!”

He had six inches and fifty pounds on me and from that angle he seemed like an ogre.

“It was an accident.”

A red circle formed above his right eye. Blood-filled cheeks confirmed that I was seconds away from getting pummeled. 

He tossed the dodge ball in the air and caught it without taking his vicious glare off me. 

“You threw this ball at my face on purpose.”

I raised my hands, begging for mercy. 

He growled, “I should make you eat this.”

I laughed. As soon as his expression changed to utter shock, I grabbed my stomach and almost keeled over. I couldn't stop laughing. 

“Jerome, I fail to see what’s so funny.”

Students circled around us. I heard one of them wonder aloud if Carlos was going to let me get away with making him look like a fool.

Carlos slammed the ball on my head. “That’s it! You’re dead!”

He pounced on me, rolling me on my backside. He grabbed my shirt, formed a fat fist and threw a punch at my face. I moved my head away and was relieved when he missed. The floor wasn't kind to Carlos. The sound of his knuckles striking concrete, then instant bone crunching was quickly followed with loud howling.

“That sounded painful.” I gathered enough courage to push him off me. 

The students chanted, “Kill him! Kill him!”

Tears filled the bully’s cheeks. Meanwhile, I got back on my knees, cackling with delight. 

Carlos tried to hit me with his other hand and nipped my nose. He screamed, “Somebody hold him for me!”

One of his cronies grabbed the back of my shoulders. I spun and squeezed his testicles. With the second bully’s howling another fit of laughter consumed me. The crowd grew quiet. 

Somehow, my emotions were scrambled. On instinct, I took off my belt and rapped it around Carlos’ neck. Using my weight, I crouched over him, laughing as his face turned blue. 

A student yelled, “Someone get Jerome off him.” 

Another added, “The crazy guy is going to kill him.”

Just as the big guy’s body stopped thrashing, my head got hit with something and I no longer was in the schoolyard. 

When I regained consciousness, a paramedic was applying a cold compress on my head. 

“What happened?”

The school’s principal, Mr. Gordon, said, “You hit Carlos with a dodge ball in his eye and he beat the daylights out of you.”

“Did I kill him?”

“Hardly, the students said Carlos beat you good while you kissed his boot.”

I checked my pants and saw my belt was still strapped in place. 

“Jerome, I called your mother. I’m suspending you for three days. Now stay out of trouble.”

I thought about exacting my vengeance upon my return. I pictured slicing Carlos’ throat with a knife and laughed and laughed.

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.

It Waits by Nomar Knight

It Waits 
by Nomar Knight

     Something lurks in the shadows while you sleep. Sometimes you feel its presence but do your best to ignore it. Then there are times when despair gets the best of you as you lie in bed, paralyzed with fear. You can almost see its red eyes beaming through the darkness, waiting, breathing, salivating in anticipation when it reveals itself. Without realizing, you allow your imagination to run wild. A silhouette forms right before your wide eyes. A faint illumination glimmers off what can only be described as sharp talons. Reason tries to force its way back in by producing an obvious question. Where is the light coming from? Then as if in quick reply to your thoughts, a car outside continues its journey, casting away a brief flash, leaving you once again at the mercy of the shadow.
     You rest a full minute before another thought comes to mind, you must turn on the light. Somewhere in the darkest recesses of your soul lies the knowledge of the existence of evil in its purest form. Still unable to move, you whimper softly wondering not if, but when will the shadow attack.
     A thump rattles your insides as you pray for silence. The betrayal of your pounding heart masks otherworldly noises. If only you could move again. Another louder thump adds to the agony created by a merciless tormentor. You find yourself believing in God. Then, as if the message comes from an entity outside yourself, the word--demon-- pops into your mind. Suddenly, your eyes follow a scraping noise below for you realize there’s something under your bed.
     At last, your lips unseal and you scream; only nothing comes out. You wonder if this is what death is like. Just when you’ve lost all hope, you feel the blanket slipping off your legs. Your lips begin to form a smile, convinced you're moving again until you understand the blanket was pulled off you. Again you call to God, this time calling on his guardian angels for protection. All thoughts of time standing still increase your heartbeat until a coat of perspiration covers your body. A liquid runs out of your eyes into your ears. Tears? There’s no time for tears. Your vision clouds and your lips tremble as you feel something pressing down on the mattress next to you on the bed. You strain to listen to the beast breathing but instead, a rushing stream of internal blood wreaks havoc with your senses. A low murmur escapes your lips. “Stop.” Your fingers begin to spasm, making you wonder if the evil entity is losing its grip on you. Then when you recall having installed the lighting system to respond to voice commands, your confidence returns.
     But as you start forming the words needed to shine light on your predicament, you pause; a morbid realization reiterating the horror that waits. You inhale gobs of cold air in attempt to work up the courage to face the demon, when all of a sudden, a chilling breath strikes against the side of your face.
     “H, Help me!” Your words stutter against the frosty night, yet in spite of your pleas, an icy breeze brushes against your cheek as a white mist coils by your nose.
     “Lights on!” At last your command brings forth instant illumination. Your muscles loosen and you manage to sit up, afraid to look beside you.
     When you finally turn your eyes on the very spot where trepidation ruled, you sigh with relief, for your nemesis is no longer present.
     You start to rise, wondering what just happened. Was it a dream? Was it temporary paralysis? As you slide your cold feet into a pair of slippers, two grimy, green talons hook your ankles, pulling you under the bed. Your right cheekbone bounces off the hardwood floor. You scream as you realize your worst nightmare has come true. Your body shivers with your vain attempts at kicking evil in its face. Using your sheer will to survive, your eyes connect with the monster. Oh those dark crimson eyes. Your muffled cries fade as you become aware that your world is slowly merging with a darker, bloodier realm.

-701 words

© Copyright Nomar Knight 2015. All rights reserved.

Republished. A Knight Chills Flash Fiction Presentation.