Phantom Flash Fiction Collection

[Raviel the Phantom]

Long Live the King

 

An explosion rocks the doors off their hinges bringing a hell-fire sweeping inside.  Members of the House cower, as they watch the flames dance through the air.  Fire turns to embers, and then to cinder, leaving billow of smoke where the doors used to stand.  Through the veil of gray, men and women, all in black, march single file inside.

 

Leading the dark army are members holding banners high over their heads.  The emblem they march under depicts the skull of a mythical dragon hanging upon the cross.  Even in death, the beast appears as if it could spring forth and engulf the entire Capitol in a sea of fire.  Members of congress mutter nervously between themselves, for the banners give identity to their attackers.  They are the members of the True Cross.

 

It is a new group of anti-governmental radicals that have spearheaded many protests in the past year.  Every one brought greater numbers to their cause.  Promise of a better future is an all alluring device, and something congress has been lacking.  In doing so, they have amassed into an army.  Now it appears as though True Cross has taken their agenda a step further from simple protests.  They are here for war.

 

One hundred strong march behind the banners.  Soldiers, as black as night, carry with them weapons of every sort, all of which are lethal.  Emblazoned on their uniforms is the horse headed symbol in chess.  Their ranks are that of knight, elite soldiers to serve their leader, Atlas King.

The parade of knights leads the way for the leader himself.  Atlas King comes in, more of a boy than a man.  Though only fifteen he is dubbed a prodigy.  His words draw in crowds of the potential the country can be.  He became a messiah to the masses.

 

Despite being the leader, his attire is bland.  He is casually dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt that holds the emblem of the True Cross over the chest.  The symbol of his rank, a silver king piece, hangs precariously around his neck.  Still, he shows all the grace of a monarch, marching in with his head held high.

 

“Members of the House,” he calls in a booming voice befitting his surname, “I come here today to right a great wrong, and to—.”

 

“Treason,” barks the Speaker of the House, “This is treason!”

 

Atlas glares at the man who is four times his age, “History shall remember me as a hero, and the lot of you the villains."

 

His words create uproar from every member of the House.  It soon becomes a chorus of incoherent rabble, with everyone trying to argue his claim.

 

“Silence,” Atlas roars like the great beast that colors his clothing.  Immediately, a hush falls over the room, granting him the chance to speak, “I came here for this very reason.  I am surrounded by a swarm of despicable creatures.  Humans corrupted by greed, a system corrupted by greed, a government corrupted by greed.”

 

“We are here for the people,” a member objects.

 

“Lies, all lies,” the young leader snarls.  “You are here for yourselves, just to line your pockets.  I see the potential this land has to offer.  I can make it a greatest empire in history.  Wealth and Prosperity will be second nature to every man.”

He holds up his hand so that all of his soldiers can see.  His knights of the True Cross ready their weapons, preparing to annihilate the four-hundred thirty-two members of the House.

 

“My vision is within our grasp,” Atlas King shouts with absolute authority, “But we must take action.  We are at the end of our time in this cocoon of corruption.  Now, break free and be reborn anew!”

 

With a snap of his fingers begins revolution.

 

Have a Heart

 

A soothing melody wakes the beauty from her slumber.  Batting her lashes, she searches the room for the sweet music that tickles her ears.  Sitting alone on a workshop table, she discovers a toy carousel.  Ivory stallions race to the tune, while a brass key slowly turns the gears.  With each revolution, the toy slows.  Seconds later, everything comes to a stop.

 

As the silence surrounds her, panic begins to linger.  Looking around, she realizes that she does not know where she is, or how she got here.  Trying to remember only brings a rush of hazy memories and a throbbing pain in her head.  Unable to contain herself, she tries to escape.  A tug at her leg tells that it is impossible.  Gazing back, she finds herself shackled to the floor with old iron chains.      

 

“The lovely lady is awake,” a cheerful voice calls to her from the shadows. 

 

She turns and finds her captor.  Stepping into the light is a young man dressed in the attire of a circus ringmaster.  The long coat and matching top hat are snow white with trim of deep violet.  Marked under each eye are black spades.  His eyes are an eerie golden hew, which sends a shiver down her spine.  To her, he is a sight thought only in childish stories that she and her friends would tell.  To see him in the flesh has her reeling into a nightmare.

 

“T-Toymaker,” she stammers, voice quivering in fear.

 

“You know me,” he jeers with a joyful twirl.  “The lovely lady knows me!”

 

She cries, “What do you want with me?”

 

“Not me, not me,” he argues, waving his hands at her.  “It is what they want.”

 

“They?” she shouts, becoming angry with his games, “Who are they?”

 

Again the Toymaker spins on his heel, as he sings, “Maria, Maria, my dear sweet Maria, you really do not know?  The men that you’ve played, the

lives left astray, and the hearts you have broken so.  They come to me for this wonderful deed of turning you into a toy.”

 

Maria interrupts his tune with a banshee scream, forcing him to cover his ears.  From the horrible stories as a child, the Toymaker would transform his victims into human toys; forcing them to suffer through the entire process until they die.  She was about to become the next victim.

 

Casually, he strolls over to his workshop table, “Now-now my dear please do not fear, everything will soon be at an end.  With these tools I’ll start and take you apart…”

 

His voice trails off, as he rummages through the tools, tossing those aside he does not need.  Maria watches with watery eyes, whimpering and quivering like a frightened animal.  Toymaker joyously raises his arms in an ‘Aha’ moment.  Whipping around, he holds a buzz saw in his hands.

 

“Now where was I?” he thinks for a moment.  “Oh yes.  With these tools I’ll start and take you apart…to see if you have a heart!”

 

A flick of a switch spins the saw to life.  The wailing of its motor drowns out Maria’s blood curdling shriek, as the Toymaker gets to work.

 

Hours later the Toymaker steps back to admires the toil of his labor.  It is a life size porcelain doll dressed in a lovely black gown.  On the enormous wooden pedestal there is a lever, which he pulls.  His golden eyes light up, as the doll begins to dance beautifully to equally lovely music.

 

Enjoying the melody, he sings, “Maria, Maria, my dear sweet Maria…All the men that you destroyed forced them to make Toymaker employed.  It was up to me to end it all by making you a living doll.  And to my surprise, you did have a heart.”