Month: July 2015

Flash Fiction: Jonathan Berrier

PHOTO PROMPT © G.L. MacMillan.
PHOTO PROMPT © G.L. MacMillan.

Before reading this story, and my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers, please read the first part of this new series. You can follow this link. Night Terrors.

December 1962

In a lab hidden deep in the amazon jungle, a man is seen pouring a strange liquid into a test tube. He takes the mysterious substance to a room where an agitated man is tied to a chair. The moment the liquid is administered, the subject goes quiet.

“Finally! It works. This elixir will calm mental patients so that they can be diagnosed  and properly treated.” Jonathan was overjoyed with his discovery.

His biggest challenge was finding test subjects. At first he had no problem, as the country’s maximum security prison provided more ‘volunteers’ than he would ever need.

for more stories, click the little froggy.



As the two tiny boys played with their toys, one of them noticed it. Immediately he began to crawl towards the amazing orb. Reaching out to touch it, maybe taste it, the small boy was enveloped in its aura. Soon he was one with the thousands of amazing colours that made up the mysterious object.

Too young to realize that his sibling had disappeared, the other boy crawled toward the object as well. He too could not avoid the temptation to touch it. The room was now empty, except for the mysterious ball that has now changed its colour to match the floor. The ball begins to roll up the wall and as it smashes through the window, the tiny slivers of glass also become part of the ball, possibly adding to its energy.

Rolling down the street almost invisible, nobody notices it, except for a stray dog who follows it until the ball rolls into a corner. The ball then begins to shrink, but before it can fully disappear, the dog wolfs the object down, gives a loud burp, and then continues on his way….

The rest of this story is sheer terror. Stay tuned.

The Wooden Rose: Number 16

PHOTO PROMPT © Dee Lovering
PHOTO PROMPT © Dee Lovering

The tenants of the retirement home were sleeping in their beds; either from exhaustion from this morning’s tragedy or from the drugs they were administered. Not everyone was sleeping. One sour looking old soul sat rocking in her chair, smiling as if nothing had happened. She never lost sleep over death, after all, she was responsible for the murders of over fifteen men throughout her lifetime.

Now, in her 90th year, one would hope that she finally retired. That is what Peter thought. He fell in love with Stella the moment she moved into the home. He quickly became number 16.

The fifth and final installment of The Wooden Rose is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers.  I am working on a new series for Friday Fictioneers. you can read the first installment HERE: NIGHT TERRORS

Click on the little froggy for more stories based on the prompt.

night terrors

Last night, I chose to eat a cheese, egg and bacon sandwich before going to bed. The following is an account from the nightmare I had. Hope it doesn’t send you into sweats like it did to me…..

Tiny dust storms formed as his hard, cold feet hit the dirt road.

A pair of cheap Wal-Mart sneakers and tattered coveralls that came from good will, he was nothing special to  look at. In fact, he seemed invisible wherever he went. Most people simply ignored him (mostly out of sheer terror) and he liked it that way.

Each day he left his ramshackle home to go to the convenience store down the road. He rarely bought anything; choosing instead to sit on the front porch and stare at passersby. His unshaven face and dirty clothes sent shivers to anyone who happened past him, as they quickly hurried on their way.

His eyes seemed to stare right through you, as if he could read your soul, and he rarely spoke. Many believe that he could not utter a word even if he tried. Little kids called him the Devil, but we all knew that he was much worst.

He smelled too; like the cheap weed that he sometimes smoked while sitting in the center of town. The local police seemed to let him do whatever he wanted, as if they feared him as well. When he wanted something, he simply took it, the store owners only too happy to see him go.

He had a child you know, with a girl he took one night. She was the daughter of a local, and although the town searched frantically for her, her body was never found. Some guess that he burned her when she was no longer useful to him.

The child was born so disfigured, it was difficult to determine whether she was male or female, or is she was even human. She lived every bit of ten years, and could be seen scuffling behind the man, her malformed legs all mangled and filled with hair that resembled that of a goat. On her head, it appeared as if she had two small horns, which locals attributed to small tumors. Her face was filled with growths as well, again thought to be tumors. She never learned to speak, instead letting out grunts and murmurs as she stumbled behind that monster of a father.

One night he came to town, his daughter in his arms. It sounded as if he had been crying, but we all know that monsters don’t cry. He threw her lifeless body on the ground and proceeded to light a fire in the center of town. When the flames were at their highest, he threw her dead body into the fire, and watched as the night air filled with the scent of her burning body.

Although some watched in terror, none moved to stop him. With a screeching sound of despair, he dug through the ashes with his bare hands and collected what remained of his daughter, and headed out of town. He never even bothered to bury what was left of her body, choosing instead to discard her carcass in the ditch along the way back to his home.

Other girls were ‘collected’ by the beast throughout the years, but nobody was aware of what he used them for. Nobody except for Jonathan Berrier of course.

To be continued….

His Best Kept Secret: Wooden Rose Part V

PHOTO PROMPT- © Sandra Crook
PHOTO PROMPT- © Sandra Crook

He was a wealthy man who took his ‘little secret’ to all the best places. At 17, Stella had a body to die for, and Harry felt as if she was all his.

“Leave your wife and marry me!” Stella ordered; but Harry had no intention of leaving his wife’s fortune.

Stella planned a surprise for Harry. As the two entered the bedroom of the exotic hotel, she bound Harry to the headboard. He thought he was in for something kinky when Stella brought out the knife.

On this night, Harry would be yet another victim of the Wooden Rose murderer.

This is the fifth part of the continuing series ‘The Wooden Rose’; and my entry into this weeks’ Friday FictioneersCheck out my blog for the other parts of the story.

For more stories based on the photo prompt, click on the little froggy.

My latest toy


A few weeks back, while being bored at work, I decided to visit and have a look around. I wasn’t really in the market for anything, just nosy. What I did find was a fantastic deal on an ATV.

The ad said MINT. These days the word has been misused to death, but this time, it was an accurate description of the bike. The guy hardly used it, and despite being manufactured in 2007 as a 2008 model, it looked as if it had just left the showroom floor.

With only 2600 kms on the thing, it wasn’t even broke in. I spoke to the guy who was selling it, and managed to haggle just enough to bring the price down to something I could afford. He actually dropped $500 over the phone.

With a four hour drive to the town that he lived in, I was anxious to get there. My brother (and his trailer) accompanied me, and when we finally arrived, we were amazed at the condition of the bike.

When we got out of the truck, the guy’s little boy (around 2 years old or so) came running out saying “Don’t buy that bike, it is JUNK!”

Not the best thing to hear after driving this far! His father came out laughing. Apparently he told his youngster that the bike was junk so he wouldn’t cry while we took it away. Hopefully that was the case!

Just as he described over the phone, the bike was in immaculate condition. He only used it to take his kids for rides on the railway bed. (T’Railway is a park in Newfoundland, created when the old CN railway was shut down and the tracks were removed. You can travel across the entire island on those trails if you have an ATV).

We took it out for a test drive and it drove even better than it looked. We loaded it on our trailer and did some paperwork. Excited to get home and ride it, I had to wait another 4 hours.

When we finally got home, it was pouring rain. The wife and I put on our rain gear and went riding anyway….at 10 p.m.

Last weekend, we were invited to a trail ride with some old friends. Although I was excited to take my new bike, we didn’t have enough room for our gear. I had to borrow my brother’s side by side, which featured a large bed on the back. He used my bike while we were gong.

We traveled from our home in Stephenville to Serpentine Lake, some 96+ kms from the door step. Using the above mentioned T’Railway system, the trail was perfect.

When we arrived at the site, the road was covered with water. The lake was very high, and we had to travel through over two feet of water to get to the camping area. Although scary, we got to the other side very quickly. The reward for the trip was the fantastic scenery. What a beautiful spot.


As you can see, the place was beautiful. I stood in awe at the beauty and enjoyed the fresh mountain air.

Later that day, we set up camp and had a large cook up. Everyone shared the food and we ate like kings. When the air became chilly, we built a large campfire and everyone gathered around. A bit of recorded music on my tiny but powerful Bose Soundlink and everyone was up dancing and having a great time (and a few drinks).


The only downside (other than having to trade bikes with my brother for the weekend) was the mosquitoes. There were thousands of the beasts, and they were hungry. This year has been very wet and mostly overcast, and the flies seem to really enjoy the damp air. Hopefully this won’t last throughout the entire summer.

A good sleep in our tent and in the morning, we ate a hearty breakfast of baloney, eggs, beans, and toast. We set out early because we wanted to get home early enough to cook supper. Ah Summer.

On Monday, while bored at work (again), I was looking on Kijiji again, and this time I found a ATV trailer that a guy had made. The picture showed exactly what I wanted. Lots of cargo space and decent clearance for stumps and brush. I called the seller, and even though he was located three hours away, I was going to buy this trailer. He wanted $475, but I was able to talk him down to $350. Pretty good deal.

When I got there, I was greeted by a friendly gentleman who showed me the trailer. He said that since retiring, he had to find something to do with his time, so he began restoring cars and building trailers. He took me on a tour of his garage where I seen a car under a cover.

His pride and joy, a 1962 Ford Frontenac, a Canadian made Ford sedan. The car was restored to original condition and was beautiful. He said that he quickly lost interest in restoring cars due to the high price of parts, but he enjoyed making trailers more. I doubt he made any money though, he must have put a ton of work and parts into making the trailer I bought.

11659430_10155698535040123_5455881113772613373_nMy wife loved the trailer because it matched the bike! Now we are ready for out next adventure. I will post the pictures.

The closet at the end of the hall: Wooden Rose Part IV

PHOTO PROMPT © Stephen Baum
PHOTO PROMPT © Stephen Baum

Little Stella hid in the closet at the end of the hall while her mother screamed at her. “You lousy little brat. You interrupted me and my man while we were screwing! Damn you!”

When she found Stella, she grabbed her and threw her on the bed. Using a leather belt, she beat the girl until she bled. Stella pleaded for her father to help, but he just sat there watching.

He uttered under his breath “That’s enough already, you are hurting her!”

“Fuck off, you coward” she replied.

He shut up quickly.

This is why Stella hated weak men.

This is the fourth part in the series entitled The W00den Rose, (The link to the rest of the series can be found here:

Part III

Part II

This is also my entry into this weeks’ Friday Fictioneers. Please check the link for more stories.

The Wooden Rose: Part III

PHOTO PROMPT – © Jean L. Hays
PHOTO PROMPT – © Jean L. Hays

Once she was examined by a doctor and cleared to leave, A cop took her to the police station for questioning.

They grilled her, but got nowhere. As they sent questions toward her, she said nothing. All she could think of were the dumb paintings in the lobby. Cars standing on their edges, how stupid.

Almost as stupid as the paintings her father stared at while her mother entertained strange men in the bedroom, under the wooden chandelier.

Stealing a knife from one of her mother’s lovers, she murdered her father in his sleep. Who would blame an innocent little girl?

To be continued…


This is the third part of the Wooden Rose, and my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers. Be sure to check out the rest of the series at this link: WOODEN ROSE

To read more stories based on the photo prompt, follow the little froggy