Halloween Flash Fiction Event: Boone Brux
Thank you for joining us for this Halloween Flash Fiction Event story from Boone Brux. Along with Boone’s story, there’s an awesome Grim Reality giveaway, so be sure to check the end of the post! The image is a stock photo from a DeviantART artist who specifically allows it to be used on outside websites, with credit and links posted. Big thanks, to both the author and the artist, for sharing. Now… on to the story…
“Well crap!” I hated when the coffin was empty.
No doubt, that meant more work than I wanted. I’m Lisa and I work for GRS, Grim Reaper Services. They specialize in paperwork and ridding the physical plain of wayward spirits. Normally, I reap stupid people, but tonight was Halloween and basically, a reaping free-for-all.
Ten minutes ago I received a text from HQ giving me the location of an unbound soul. With no other reaper in the area the task fell to me.
My gaze scanned the cemetery. Nothing.
I trudged across the ground, blowing warm breath against my gloved fingers. The frost-covered grass crunched beneath my boots. Where was that ghost?
Faint laughter wafted from behind a small building to my right. It didn’t take mad reaper skills to figure out it was teenagers up to some Halloween shenanigans. As I closed in I noticed a dim blue glow coming from the same direction. Maybe my luck had changed. Maybe I’d reap my client and scold some hooligans with one swoop of my scythe. The idea of being home by nine o’clock, sipping a steaming cup of hot chocolate and schnapps took hold and pushed me forward.
Once at the building, I tiptoed to the corner and with a quick jut of my head, I peeked out.
I poked my head out again and groaned, then stepped into the open. The circle of boys stood, tossing the skeleton of a dog between them. Said dog’s spirit was currently engaged in a solo game of keep away at the center.
Seriously, a Chihuahua?
“Shit!” A tall kid in a hoodie tossed the skeleton into the woods and bolted.
Following suit, his friends scattered into the trees, leaving the dog and me alone.
I sighed. “Well, Spot,” I said, for lack of a better name, “What say we finish this so I can go home.”
He hunkered down on his front paws and yapped three times, obviously wanting to play.
“No, it’s not playtime. It’s meet your maker time.” I lunged for him, but he darted to the right and out of sight. “Hey!” I jumped to my feet. “Get back here.”
I took off after him, hurdling several low gravestones, which was pretty impressive considering I weigh-in on the fluffy side of the scale. Unless the word run was tacked onto beer, I rarely ran if I could help it.
Even as a spirit, Spot was a clever dog. Every move I made, he countered. If I went left, he cut right. If I dove, he’d dodged me seconds before I landed on him. After the fifth time around the cemetery and an ungraceful tumble over Rover McGuff’s headstone, I lay on the ground, staring up at the night sky.
“You win!” My chest heaved. “Stay. I don’t care.” My eyelids shut and I exhaled a breath of defeat. “Just don’t make me run anymore.”
A low growl, followed by a single yap erupted above me. My lids flew open and I smiled. Spot stood proudly on my chest, his tail wagging a hundred miles an hour. Thankfully spirits were weightless. With a solid lick of his ghostly tongue, he left a moist trail of dog saliva along my cheek.
Before he could make another escape, I clutched him around the ribs and struggled to a stand. As a reaper, my hands are like Velcro to a spirit. Once I touched them, all I had to do was hold on and call my porter. Porters were the guys, who transported the souls to their appointed destination. However, I wasn’t sure if my porter was a male or female—or even human.
“Hal.” I waited, but as usual he didn’t show. Stubborn bastard. “Hal Lee Lewya, come get your soul.”
A thin light appeared near the tall obelisk and spread to form an elevator door. It slid open and Hal stood on the other side, dressed from head to toe in purple velvet. He was such a fashion whore.
His gaze ricocheted from me to the dog, and then back to me again. One sculpted brow arched. “I don’t transport rats.”
I scowled at him. “It’s not a rat, it’s a Chihuahua.” I shoved the dog toward him. “Take it.”
“Not if it was the last soul on earth.” The dog barked and wagged his tail, making his butt rotate in small circles. Hal pursed his gold-glossed lips and took a step back.
“Are you afraid of it?” I moved closer to the elevator. “Seriously, Hal, he’s just a little dog.”
“I—” He straightened against my accusation. “Am not afraid of that creature.”
“Uhh, I think you are!” I grinned and he glowered back. Watching Hal squirm was fun, but I had an adult beverage and prime time television waiting for me. Realizing Hal had no intentions of cooperating, I took a chance on Spot’s doggie spirit and knelt, setting him on the ground. Then I picked up a round rock. “Look what I got.” I waved the stone in front of Spot. “Want the ball?” He barked, hopping around like he had with the boys. “Do you want the ball? Yes you do.”
“Lisa Carron, what are you doing?” Hal’s voice wavered with uncertainty, which was something I rarely got to hear.
“Just doing my job.”
With that, I hurled the rock past Hal and into the elevator. Several things happened at once. Spot took off at lightning speed after the rock. Hal fell backward into the elevator while emitting a high-pitched scream, and I laughed.
Before Hal could react, I said, “Our transaction is complete.”
Instantly, the elevator door slammed shut and thinned into a line of light, before disappearing.
“That worked rather well.” I straightened and hobbled toward my car. “Note to self: Next year call in sick.”
About The Author
Boone is a bestselling author in both fantasy and series romance genres. She began writing in an attempt to ward off the slow decomposition of her mental state while taking care of her twin toddlers. It soon became clear that storytelling was her true calling.
Her books range from medieval fantasy, filled with demon’s and hot heroes, to humorous paranormal and spicy contemporary romance. Though she loves writing romance, Boone much prefers stories where she gets to kill somebody or blow something up.
She lives in the beautiful and rugged state of Alaska with her husband, two kids, their dog Oreo, and her black cat Velma Underfoot. Not to mention the numerous wild creatures that lounge in her backyard.
About The Artist
Image: Grave Texture 1
Artist Page: Goombanomics http://www.deviantart.com/art/Grave-Texture-1-260899700
Boone is offering a Grim Reaper prize pack, with a tote bag, copy of TO CATCH HER DEATH and some other fun swag! To enter, simply post a comment below about Boone’s story. Contest will be open until Nov 2nd. Winner will selected and notified on Nov 3rd. Good Luck!!