The Great and Powerful Chuck Wendig has a new Flash Fiction contest with the amazingly great prize for a random entry to go to Crossroads Writers Conference in Macon, GA, Oct. 5-7, 2012.
Superhero / In a Vehicle Traveling Down the Highway / Weapons of Mass Destruction
The Last Will and Testament of the Whip
This is how I die. In the back of a car barreling down a highway, unmasked, wondering exactly how much blood is left in my body to pump out. The shreds of the bandage across my abdomen looked as black as my suit even under the random streetlights we passed under as we sped into the night.
“I would have never guessed the great and powerful Whip was you.” My killer said as she gripped the steering wheel. “I mean, really, Jane. You’re a mouse.”
I sighed. This had been the same sentiment she’d had on a vocal loop since the beginning of our drive. My mask hung like fuzzy dice from the rear-view mirror. Somewhere along the ride, I started having trouble recognizing her face reflected in the mirror, but I could keep my focus on my mask. Her eyes replaced the darkness from the holes for my eyes, and I could not look away.
I don’t think she realized that I no longer had the energy to refute her comments. I was inches away from giving into the blackness that was creeping into the edges of my vision, and I really didn’t care what her opinion of me was any longer. I couldn’t even feel the bite of the zip ties that she’d wrapped around my wrist, why did I care if she was in a state of shock that my quiet alter-ego Jane was really The Whip, Protector of MetroCity. The Whip was bleeding out in her backseat, that was all that mattered any more.
“Why are you so quiet, Jane? I can feel that you at least have a few more hours before you don’t have to listen to me ramble on and on.” Her eyes flashed violet in the rear-view mirror and I felt a surge of energy that took over from the numbness settling in.
“I… I don’t have anything… left… to say.” I hear myself say, yet I don’t really feel anything but the foreign energy coursing through my body. “You won.”
“Oh, I haven’t won yet, honeybun. I won’t say that I’ve won until I find your secret stash of weapons, and I hope you realize that you cannot go gently into that good night without my permission, regardless of how you’re feeling.”
“No… more… weapons.” I get out on my own. “Gone.”
“Don’t lie, honeybun. It doesn’t suit your face.” A jolt of her energy flew through my body, causing me to convulse. All of the places where the numbness had set into my body screamed out in agony. I prayed for the first time in my life. Prayed for death.
“You took those weapons of mass destruction out of the Middle East and stashed them somewhere the stupid Nulls couldn’t get to them, didn’t you?” She jerked the steering wheel as she turned to look at me. The rough texture of the emergency lane sent lances of pain through my body until she turned back and re-adjusted the car onto the highway lane.
“I… thought…” The pain made actual speech impossible.
“You thought what?” Another surge of energy flew from her into my body. “You thought you could change your ways and become a Saviour of Mankind?”
Yes, I thought. I heard my voice answer as well, but it seemed even more separate from me than before.
“Well, honeybun, it doesn’t work that way.” She moved the rear-view mirror to check her makeup, then pulled it back to center on me. “See, you’re the villain. I’m the hero. MetroCity is mine, and I need those weapons to remind all those… Nulls who the fuck rules the roost in my city.”
Her rant over for the moment, she returned her attention back to the road, leaving me alone with the ghost of her energy and my own mixture of pain and numb. MetroCity may have made me a villain within their media, but their heroes weren’t anything to write home about either.
I felt the car slow as she pulled off of the highway and onto a disused secondary road. She still thought that I’d leave the weapons somewhere that would be where my alter-ego would go anywhere near, because that is what she’d do.
For a Hero, she wasn’t terribly intelligent.
As I contemplated this, it slowly dawned on me that the pain was gone. Every inch of my body felt as if it had been stripped away, and all that was left was emptiness. The blood had slowed down to just a small trickle from my stomach.
I glanced up at the rear-view mirror and locked eyes with her just as I felt everything slip away. Her face, confused for a moment, distorted into pure, unadulterated rage just before everything went black.
– Fin –
Mother. Designer. Coder. Writer. Singer. Complete Geek.
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