The Bradbury Chronicles

The Birthday Wish

“Go on! Make a wish!”

Mom’s voice cuts sharp across the room as I lean over the flickering flames. The candles look like Twizzlers on some psychedelic trip.

I’m twenty-five, for crying out loud. These are party props for a toddler.

Still, I smile, inhale deep, close my eyes like protocol demands—and then—

Whooof!

“What the—?”

“Circuit breaker again,” Dad mutters as the lights vanish. Darkness swallows us whole. Big Sis, her husband, and their three sugar-hyped brats squeal in the sudden void.

The stench of blown candles clings heavy in the air. We fumble blindly, bumping shoulders and furniture.

“Phone’s dead,” Walter announces, as if the rest of us hadn’t already checked.

“Is Dad back yet?” someone whispers. The clock ticks loud and merciless, filling the uneasy silence.

“I’ll go look,” Mom offers, but Walter steps in first.

“Be right back.”

Only, he isn’t.

“They’ve been gone a while, haven’t they?” Mom murmurs, voice small, afraid.

Moonlight leaks through the windows, pale and weak. The children have gone quiet—too quiet—because they’re nothing but skeletal husks now, clawing at what was once a birthday cake, now crawling with maggots—

“Jesus Christ!”

“Wha—what is it?” my girlfriend stirs beside me, voice thick with sleep. I lie drenched in sweat, fists knotted in twisted sheets, staring into the dark ceiling.

“No… nothing,” I manage, my throat dry. “And babe? Let’s not make a big deal about my birthday tomorrow, okay? Netflix and chill is more than enough.”




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Word Count: 250
Written For: "WDC Birthday Carnival" 
Prompt: YOU BLOW YOUR BIRTHDAY CANDLES OUT AND . . .What happens? Give me a good twist!