“P” Poison Has Its Uses #atozchallenge

white bloody rose

I heard a banging on the steel grated door.

“Umm huh. Yeah I’m coming. Hey Peely.”

“Here this is for you.” The errand boy, who we were both so found of, handed me a box.

Inside was a hat I had admired for months, The card underneath in her handwriting.

“Peel, ya know what I hate most about this town?”

“Yeh, Sam, I know. It’s so damned lonely.”

“Tonight a few people are gonna wish they were just lonely. ”

I looked under the envelope flap and saw four names circled in red.

“Hey Peel ya got plans tonight? I need a special delivery…. ”

****

“Just one sniff of these beautys, that’s all that’s needed, Peel. ”

“I’ll make sure that he takes a big whiff. ”

“You must be subtle. Remember this guy can sniff out trouble like a shark. As he looks at the card, make a comment like:   ‘The more expensive these damn flowers the less they smell. And then: “Oh I’m sorry, sir, did I just say that out loud?”

“If the wife or mistress is around, she may inhale first. ” Peel’s eyes grew big.

“That’s okay it takes several minutes to take effect.”

“What if I demonstrate?”

“Yes, Peel that would work fine except then you would be poisoned. Hmm wait a minute. Can we plug your nose?”

“I have some of those foam ear plugs. ”

“Ok, yeah cram them up your nose right before the delivery. Use a little Vaseline as a seal.”

“This had better work. ”

“Careful this guy suspects his grandmother. PLEASE Don’t go getting yourself dead.”

“I won’t, Sam.”

Lately, People I care about find themselves under headstones…

cemetery rose

732.

DoomCycle #fridayfictioneers #flashfiction #newcago

new cago times newspaper (2)

*****

An unmanned vehicle being controlled by ???

“What the devil?”

In one moonless night:

The Sheriff had been pushed into CagoBend River on his evening constitutional.

An unnamed legislator left a permanent bloody imprint (his only remains) in the Last Street Tunnel.

It knows I have no power against it. “The stakes have been raised,”It sneered at me as it squealed away from its bloody destruction. Leaving a wake of red tracks.

***

“You have everything you need here. Help Us…!” Doom was etched in his knowing eyes.

All I possess is a sheaf of files, a sense of foreboding.

sandra-crook

Another week of Friday Fictioneers hosted by cycle mama Rochelle Wisoff Fields. The prompt inspired another installation for the   NewCago Series. Here are the  previous stories in the series:

Week 4 in Newcago Serial Helpless

Week 3 in Newcago Serial When the Lights Go On

week 2 in Newcago Serial  Can’t Kill The Thirst

Week 1 in Newcago Serial Secret Weapon

Helpless #flashfiction #newcago

gnarled-tree

I wanted to cover my ears as the flames licked the sky in Newcago.

“Help me. I’m on fire!”

“I can’t see…”

the wail of a small child

Helpless I watched. The firefighters tried but could not get to the center of the apartment complex.

Then the first bodies…

The charred hand of my favorite professor. He turned that ring around his finger while he lectured.

Find me a lonesome tree in OldYork where I can bury my nightly pain.

But I knew I was the only one who could find the scum who burned people for the hell of it.

******

The gnarled tree is today’s prompt from Friday Fictioneers led by our hostess Rochelle. It’s the kind of tree you could sit beneath for a picnic or a good rant. Have a look at what the Fictioneers are writing about today.

Week 3 in Newcago Serial When the Lights Go On

week 2 in Newcago Serial  Can’t Kill The Thirst

Week 1 in Newcago Serial Secret Weapon

Secret Weapon #flashfiction #noir

lilies-lora-mitchell (2)

I breathed in; the lily was from my dead lover. Crime was at an all-time high in Newcago. The cops closed their doors at 5. I was on at 6. As a private detective, I didn’t have the luxury of bars to hide behind.  I wasn’t afraid of their bullets. Hell, she’d taken one for me.  Her last drops of blood had pulsed onto my white carpet.

“Don’t stop fighting for decency…” Her last words.

I heard screaming on the street below. Only the bad guys had guns or knives anymore, but I had smarts and my secret weapon, from her…

The above photograph by Lora Mitchell is our photo prompt for this week’s Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff- Fields. I made the photograph black and white to give a more Noir feel.