Flash Fiction

I wrote a little flash fiction piece this afternoon as a writing exercise to get the creative juices flowing. This one took a bit of a dark turn, but it was a lot of fun to write. Basically flash fiction is something where you have a picture and/or a challenge for you to write about.

Here is my picture

And here is the challenge: Defying Stereotypes: Take two typically stereotypical characters and make them your own in 500 words or less.

And here is my story (entirely unedited or read by me so don't get judgy)

The technician walked into the room. A young woman with pale hair and skin sat with her chin down on her chest that lifted and sank softly with calm even breaths. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her—the destruction she caused. One had to be removed, but which would the doctor choose?

Two minds waged a war for domination inside of the petite frame. Two voices struggled to be heard without making a sound. One dress, one body, and one chance to choose the correct personality before both were lost forever. The Hyde to the other’s Jekyll lurked beneath the passive exterior. There could be only one though two choices remained.

The woman’s head snapped up when the doctor entered the room as if she had known not to bother with the technician. Her hooded, dull eyes looked straight through him to something beyond before her head jerked to the right.

“Help me. I can’t fight her any longer.”

Her head whipped to the left. “I was here first. She is the abomination.”

“Please,” she begged to the right. “Please help.”

“Don’t listen.” The woman snapped back to the left. “She speaks only lies.”

The woman looked right through the young technician with bright, glossy eyes. “Why is she doing this to me? Please you must help me.”

The technician took a step toward the patient.

“Do not approach the subject,” the doctor said his voice flat and impersonal.

The technician stayed his feet.

The woman’s head rolled to the left. “Destroy her.”

“Please, please help.” She looked down and to the left her lower lip quivering.

“I have seen enough,” the doctor stated, nodding to the technician.

The young man approached her cautiously, though she was restrained, with his cart. She had murdered six people, tore their bodies apart like a wild beast. The leather straps at her thin, pale arms didn’t give him comfort. One by one he place the cold, gooey electrodes on her. She didn’t struggle or speak though her eyes stoically followed his movements. He oh so carefully placed the bite guard in her mouth. When he finished he backed away as far as the cords would allow. The doctor stepped closer.

“I know which one of you are,” he said squatting down in front of her.

Those dark eyes rose to meet his. She blinked and head tilted to the right then it tipped to the left. He gave the signal to the technician and electricity coursed through her body, making her muscles strain and snap and her teeth clench against the guard. His fingers hovered over the button waiting for the single to stop, but the doctor didn’t give it. He shifted and chewed on his lip. His fingers twitched over the button. They’d kill her if they didn’t stop soon.

“Now,” the doctor said.

He flipped the machine off and the woman went limp in the chair. The doctor waited a couple beats before he moved closer and undid the leather straps at her arms, she slumped in the chair. One by one her removed the electrodes then retrieved the mouth guard as well.

Her eyes snapped open and her teeth sank deep before she tore them away and spit out a hunk of flesh. The doctor’s scream gurgled in his throat as his useless hand pawed at the spraying wound.

The woman stood, knocking the doctor out of the way, turning toward the technician. Her white dress and deathly pale skin spatter with blood as her black eyes found him. The doctor had chosen the wrong.

A slow crimson smile spread on her face. “I want to tell you a secret.”

The technician blinked.

“There is no Dr. Jekyll.”

His screams echoed down the empty hallways.  

-Liz