This week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt proved to be another which gave me several ideas and, with the exception of a riff on the old Crossroads myth, all fell neatly into the Future-Noir setting I love to inhabit. So initially, it was which to choose. The thing is, the ideas were there but the words were not. Brain fade. Ultimately, a new idea came to me and it brought some words along for the ride. Today’s post is the result. Here’s the photo prompt:
This week Madison has posted a guest photo, courtesy of Mary Shipman. The post, along with Madison’s own story and links to all the other authors, is here:
Take a look and get involved, if you are so inclined.
On the subject of photos, I would like to briefly introduce and recommend my lovely wife’s new (and thoroughly excellent) photo blog. She has a wonderful eye and an artistic flair I’m sure many will appreciate. Please take a look and let her know what you think 🙂
And now, weighing in at a hefty 165 words, may I present to you…
Sleep fell from her, dissipating along with vague echoes of dreaming. The Umbilicorder ceased its phallic probing of her cortex and retracted into the bulbous base unit. Dirty washes of light played across the dilapidated room as the biomechanoid console considered the products of her REM sleep.
Beneath her, plastic sheets covered a debauched mattress, thick with the history of Contessa Macabre’s most infamous flesh parlour. Domino lit a cigarette and hunted kanji in the smoke, waiting.
The door became a thousand tiny splinters under the force of their arrival; three looming giants with parchment skin where eyes should have been. Their tombstone voices were unified, a crushing cacophony.
“You have dreamed too close to the truth. We take you now.”
Domino blinked, her irises swirling to crimson.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Once the Correctors lay ruined and twitching, Domino introduced the Umbilicorder to what was left of the leader. The readout made her smile. Now she knew where the Contessa lived.