Sassy Sunday Story Starter.... from Sassy Brit 'Alternative-Read'

Every Sunday, Sassy Brit @ Alternative-Read offers a Sunday morning story starter.  This Sunday story starter was provided by Karen Mercury.  It was an excellent couple of lines, and I found myself drawn back to one of the early prompts, continuing the story.  Here's my response to the prompt.

Soul Fire, Part 2

by: Dottie Taylor

word count: 600

“For the love of Mike!” cried Wallingford, nearly jumping from his tennis shoes at the sight of his partner, Fowler. “I thought you were a ghost!”

But the transparent, sunken, and oddly green image of Fowler just hovered there at the edge of the cliff, saying nothing.

“Fowler?” Wallingford called out. Still Fowler clung to the precipice, almost seeming to float, and as Wallingford watched, Fowler drifted away from the boundary, into the lightness of the breaking dawn.

“What the fu...” Wallingford shrank back, away from edge, away from his partner, away from death. “Son of a bitch!” Wallingford bit out. He blinked his eyes again and again in disbelief. Fowler was... no way in hell was Fowler out there floating around off the edge of the cliff, he was floating around out there like some damnable ghost.

Then, Wallingford saw Fowler's lips begin to move, speaking to him, gesturing, and finally pointing at him. Wallingford's heart beat frantically against his ribs, and he took a deep shuddering breath, and stepped forward.

“Fowler, what's happened?” He said barely louder than a whisper, his eyes filled with horror. His best friend and partner he thought shaking his head, and Fowler's ghostly appearance wobbled in and out of focus.

Wallingford's eyes bulged because even though Fowler's lips refused to let sound pass them, there was a burst of noise inside Wallingford's head. He clapped his hands tightly over his ears, and the volume for dialed down, he was able to recognize Fowler's voice.

“...this time. You have to stop it, you have to keep it....” And his voice faded, but his countenance still hung in the air above him. “....hurry, soon it will be too late... save Reena....”

Wallingford looking anxiously at his partner, not really believing any of this, he was probably at home asleep in his bed, having a nightmare instead of his usual playboy bunny filled ones. He shook his head, bit his lip hard enough to draw the coppery taste of blood into his mouth. No, this wasn't a dream, not unless you can bled and feel pain in one.

“Fowler, who's Reena, what are you talking about?” Wallingford groaned, he held a hand to his head, it pounded almost as hard as his heart.

“....investigation …....” Fowler's visage began to slip away.

“Wait! I don't know who Reena is?!?” Wallingford howled.

Again he heard the voice bounding around his skull. “.... case file... hurry.... it's coming...”

Wallingford watched Fowler slip away. He turned away from the cliff as he rushed back down to find his Taurus, but he looked back one last time. A scream filled his throbbing head, Fowler wouldn't be visiting him again any time soon.

He sped back across town to their offices, a seedy building that had seen better days. He burst into the room he shared with Fowler and tore open the files, throwing the ones he didn't need onto the floor, hands shaking as he scanned the pages rapidly looking for the one word that would stand out, Reena, she had to be here. He had to find her, if he didn't he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

Finally, his finger came to rest on the name. A murder investigation he and Fowler had worked on, one of the people interviewed was a girl named Reena. A bead of dread slithered down Wallingford's chest, cold as ice. Something was hunting, it was getting closer. He jammed the file inside his coat, racing from the office, he had to be in time.



That's it, until next time.  Join me in the response if you'd like.

Ciao...