Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!
A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!
With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction prompt based off an occurence. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!
(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)
Little Box of Horrors
A car horn blared as another driver sped by him yet again. They always seemed to go faster when they passed him, like they thought he was some mass murderer.
“Jackasses,” he muttered to himself, letting his hitchhiker’s thumb fall back down to his side with a huff.
He turned back forward and kept walking, shoving his hands in his pockets and adjusting his pack slung over one shoulder. He kicked a rock in frustration, his shoe scuffing the ground and wafting up dust. The desert sun was scorching hot, sweat beading his brow. His water supply was also starting to get dangerously low and there wasn’t another town in sight for miles and miles. It didn’t help that evening was creeping in and soon the temperature would start dropping to freezing proportions.
He’d have to find a way to shelter soon, for water and for survival. Curled up on the side of the road shivering in some ditch listening to the howls of coyotes was not how he wanted to spend another miserable night.
Eventually, after what felt like another hour of walking, he heard the telltale signs of another car rolling along the deserted highway. He paused and glanced towards the direction of the sound, turning to walk backwards now as he once more held out his thumb. He prayed this passerby would be nice enough to pull over and give him a lift.
He saw a truck barreling down the highway this time, its noisy muffler sounding like it was about ready to fall off and tumble away, making him instinctively take a couple steps back off the side of the road. The vehicle was upon him in seconds, and just like the countless number of cars before this one, it sped right by him without even slowing a fraction.
He frowned, his hand smacking his thigh as it dropped once more, though not before flipping off the driver of the truck as they got further and further away.
Frustrated, he once more shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunching up and started walking in the direction he had been going all day, kicking at the ground. It was starting to get darker and he could feel the cold chill seeping into his bones.
“Bunch of lousy, selfish, para–ow!” He broke off with an exclamation and a colorful curse word when he stubbed his foot on something heavy in the dense desert brush along the side of the road.
Stopping out of curiosity, he crouched down and pushed the scratchy brush aside to reveal a large box. Puzzled, he pulled it out, finding it was rather heavy and ornate. The box was a dark wood with leather straps binding it. Odd symbols that he had never seen before, and an inscription in another language, were carved along the top of the box. A heavy duty lock held the box clamped shut tight. It looked old, very old, whatever it was at least.
He set his pack down on the ground, shifting the box to one arm as he sat down as well and examined it with a keen eye for something of value. He shook the box but didn’t hear anything rattle within.
“Odd…” he muttered, setting it down on the ground in front of him.
Curiosity won the best of him and he reached into his pack, pulling out his lock pick kit. He nearly chuckled in spite of himself.
“Maybe everyone passes me by because they can sense I’m a thief.”
Carefully, he started to pick at the heavy lock on the box, his brow furrowed and tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. It was silent around him which made it easier to focus as well. Within moments he heard the distinct click of the lock springing open and he smiled deviously, putting his tools aside to dismantle the leather straps and open the box with a twinge of excitement.
That excitement suddenly died out though as he lifted the lid.
His eyes widened in terror and shock as the inside of the box glowed outwards in an eerie green hue. He screamed as black, spindly hands reached out the box’s depths and grabbed his shoulders with a disturbing cackle. Then the green hue flashed like some UFO around him and he was yanked into the box by the creature, his scream dying out as the lid snapped shut and the box disappeared with a pop, leaving his pack and tools to rest abandoned on the side of the road.
Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!