A ghost hunter is trapped. (Flash Fiction) |
Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300. The prompts: This story must contain the words: tile, shadow and blister Free Agency He was a dark hero of sorts, although some called him evil. Shunned when not needed, he’d bide his time. When the call came, when they needed him, he wasn’t “evil.” He was Mr. Black. He sat in the center of the room as several small items swirled around in the air. He measured his adversary by the strength of its telekinesis. Small appliances were the toys of shadow demons. Large furniture was a different story. It would mean he was up against a real player from the darkness beyond. Whatever was haunting this house was apparently becoming frustrated with Black’s lack of concern over floating blenders. A coffee mug went flying by his head and crashed against the decorative tile surrounding the fireplace. Mr. Black lit a cigar and turned on the television. He knew they hated it when you disrespected them. A commotion from the game room caught his attention. He casually strode in to find balls rolling around on the pool table. Mr. Black picked up a stick and began to line up a shot when the door slammed shut. It had him now. Everything that wasn’t nailed down began to cyclone around the room. Mr. Black knew that nothing could strike him so long as he showed no fear. That was one of the rules he’d learned as a student of astral-physics. There was only one thing that could harm him. Hopefully, they were unaware of this. Most shadow level demons were too new to the business to know all the tricks of their trade. When he saw the paint on the walls begin to blister, he knew that they knew. Fire! Black smiled at his own imminent demise. Death brought no fear. He’d always known he’d play for the other team someday. Word count 298 |