Monthly Archives: August 2015

The Shape of Family – Part Five

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Tuesday is here! It’s time for Part Five of The Shape of Family. Checking back in with Claire and her retinue today.

<- Part Four – Priority

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The Shape of Family
Part Five – Sun-Baked

by Rick Cook Jr

After she was alone, sated for the night, Claire tried not to let it get to her. Any number of reasons why the girl would be late. She tossed and turned all the same with a stomach churning worries, and by morning when her Wings first stirred she couldn’t tell if she’d slept or just kept her eyes closed hoping for it.

Claire pushed up from her bed, mouth dry, head pounding. She hadn’t meant to drink. That damned Combs wouldn’t take no for an answer, bordering on insubordination.

Bordering but never crossing that line. Continue reading →

Touch, Color

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248 words to create a character, as per Chuck Wendig’s most recent Flash Fiction Challenge.

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They quarantined me when I turned someone purple. Then they started paying me. I could try to explain it, but that would require knowing the first damned thing about it.

It just started one day in a most indelicate position. Mid-coitus, if you prefer a polite term. I tend not to. When you can’t even touch yourself without becoming cerulean blue or neon pink, you kind of stop giving a shit about social nicety.

They flew me to Hollywood first, and I can’t even tell you how many rainbow dogs are running around now.

Once Paris got wind the fashion industry just about shackled me to the runway. Oh, they paid well for their dazzling dresses and wild lavender hairdos, but I don’t even know how many bottles of hand sanitizer I go through in a day. They cart it around in a suitcase, and even though it dries quickly my hands always look splotched with paint.

I get to touch a lot of beautiful people, though.

Scientists have poked me, prodded me, biopsies. You name it and they’ve done it. All the equipment is in a lab somewhere, untouched. Turns out people aren’t too fond of a CAT Scan machine that’s blood red inside and out.

I don’t know. It has its upsides. Coloring Easter eggs has never been easier. I’ll never have to work again with the obscene millions they pay to be yellow, orange, midnight blue.

But no one wants to sleep with a freak.

The Shape of Family – Part Four

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It’s Tuesday, so strap in for about 1,000 words of this wild and weird shapeshifter story!

<- Part Three – Wild

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The Shape of Family

Part Four – Priority

by Rick Cook Jr.

Sadie felt the malevolent presence leave them as Marie’s twin rode their backtrail. She panted and snorted with relief when Marie finally let her rest a bit, walking along the road that would lead to the capital.

The other girl was in danger. Sadie refused to think about it. Not her problem. She had saved Marie, wasn’t that enough?

I’m not their mother. Continue reading →

The Shape of Family – Part Three

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Time for Part Three of The Shape of Family! There will be no more new POVs after this Part, just Sadie, Claire, and the uh… thing below.

<- Part Two – Wings

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The Shape of Family

Part Three – Wild

by Rick Cook Jr

The thing that was not a bandersnatch followed at a safe distance. He knew her by the scent of blood. Scent was curious; he did not always possess it, and wished never to need it, so abhorrent was it to him.

He should take her now. If it wasn’t for that thing under the girl…

What is it? he wondered. Not a horse, that much he knew. It was interesting, piquing the curiosity that came with the bandersnatch, but he overrode its instincts for his own. There might be time for curiosity later, once his quest was complete. Once his bloodline was secure. Continue reading →

The Shape of Family – Part Two

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And away we go with Part Two of The Shape of Family! This Part is entitled “Wings”.

<- Part One – Shadow-Dancer

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The Shape of Family

Part Two – Wings

by Rick Cook Jr

Wing Captain Claire Claymonte wanted to stay and search for the rider of this beautiful horse. It rankled that they were not able to sneak up and catch him unawares. But if the Forest didn’t kill him, a patrol probably would.

She sighed as they mounted up and Sergeant Combs continued to work his skill at calming on the animal. Dark blue and gray patches on a coat of midnight black. She had never seen horseflesh of this variety before. Her white stallion Moxie was a sight to behold, but pure white breeding was in vogue even among the civilians. A horse with coloring like this one… Envy of the entire military, she’d be. She could claim it as spoils of the road if she wished.

“Hand over the saddlebags,” she said to Combs as they left the forest and took up the route. Continue reading →