Twisted Love 02/18

Inspired by Amber’s link to Chuck Wendig’s flash fiction, I decided to write about a twisted love. My personal goals were to take just an hour and make sure I wrapped the story up. While I did take less than an hour, I did not wrap the story well, and rushed the ending.

C’est la vie, kids. This is #write365. Any writing is good writing.

She kissed me, our first in the hours after her brothers had found us entwined together for the first time as lovers, though only technically speaking as I had been more than ready for the moment but my inexperience shone through in what would be both the first and last second. I babbled some incoherent cacophonous excuse that sounded like words devoid of vowels, but she silenced me with the kiss as the door became splinters, the pack of filthy animals descending on us before I could breathe and recover and defend myself. There was no time for embarrassment as they yanked me into the air, each a foot taller and hundreds of pounds heavier.

But that next kiss, after the hysteria had calmed, after the feeling in my arms and legs had returned though I still could not see out of my left eye and my right one saw starts almost exclusively made almost everything feel better. I could smell her perfume, light and citrus with notes of amber and oak fade to the smell of the ocean, clean and salty. The sound of a boat’s engine and the tell-tale up-and-down-and-up-again-and-down-again of wave-running startled me.

“What’s happening?” I asked, unable to move, my body wet and heavy.

“Shhh,” she said, kissing me again. Almost making everything okay. Almost putting me at ease. Except the boat lurched forward, presumably over a large wave, and my body moved slowly forward and as slowly backward. My chest sticky. “They’re going to kill you.”

“What?” I screamed as loudly as I could whilst my voice betrayed me through open mouth. “What are you talking about?” I screamed silently. Looking back, I can laugh.

“Quiet!” she hushed like a librarian. “I’m sorry. I’m their sister and they don’t take kindly to my taking lovers.”

“Boyfriends?” I finally squeaked out.

“Same thing to them.”

“I can’t see anything,” I replied dryly.

“There’s nothing to see.”

“I can’t see you.” I countered.

“You’ve got two black eyes.”


“Just kiss me.”

I did.


My body was encased in concrete from the neck down. As we raced through the waves, she explained everything to me. That the two oldest boys were twins but not unreasonable named Sampson and Samuel. The three youngest — Tim, Tom and Tum, named Timothy, Thomas and Ketchum — were terrors and in the vote of what to do with me after our tryst was completed decided that killing me was the only way. That they were kind enough to wait for us to finish and had bets on how long it would take, though they sadly had far more faith in my first time than I did.

“But, I want you to know that I did love you.”

“Did?” I asked, incredulously.

“I’m sorry.”

Insulted, I flexed, my muscles turning the soon to be hardened concrete to shrapnel, each shard punctuating her brothers a thousand times, killing them as they struggled for breaths that would never come, one shard piercing her through the heart as she stammered that she loves me and always will.

Reality struck as someone entered the dark cabin and she shrieked in terror.

“Not yet!”

“Too late!” a voice spoke as I was lifted easily despite the likely hundreds of pounds of concrete surrounding me. I tried to scream again, but it was too late. My last word was the questioning word “did?” I wanted more of life, to feel more, to at least last a week as not a virgin, to not be cast into the depths of the ocean and die while drowning.

And there I was.

Time slowed as I gained the feeling that I was in the air, free as a bird. Had I wings, I could have flown away. Had I gills, I could have swam away. Had I kept it in my pants and refused the advances of the woman of my dreams, who’d told me she loves me, I wouldn’t be here, splashing down with my last breath being mostly water, floating down, down, down to the ocean floor.

And moments before I felt everything turn cold, before everything glowed white and I saw family and friends who’d passed before me, lips pressed to me, hands around my neck.

My eyes opened, as fear and life and consciousness were the only things I had left, I looked right into the only love of my life’s eyes. She’d come with me, to be with me. To die with me, to love me.



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