Friday Fictioneers: The Dire-Man (pt 7)

Earlier parts of The Dire-Man can be found here: One – Two – Three – Four – Five – Six

Copyright - Renee Heath

A servant of the Dire-Man met me at the door to his hall.

He beckoned me closer. ‘Your son?’ He said with a leer.

‘Where is he?’ I said, my fists tightened at my sides.

He tossed two fingers onto the path in front of me. ‘Here is part of him.’

I ran forward and grabbed his arms. Instead of feeling muscle or bone, my hands squeezed him and he began to melt in my grip. His face moved and ran down his ragged jacket like thick candle wax until he was nothing but a giggling puddle at my feet.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Another Friday Fictioneers story with prompt supplied by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

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12 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers: The Dire-Man (pt 7)

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