Home > Flash Fiction, Horror, serial > Little Book 13

Little Book 13

I hope you enjoy the last installment of this series. I will be going back to a much shorter, one shot format after this. It is time to work on other things, after all.

L. E. White

Little Book 13

Joey squeezed his eyes shut against the blinding sting of the light when the bag was ripped from his head. He had been conscious for a while, working his muscles and shifting back and forth as he tried to find a way out of the ropes that held him to a chair. He thought he felt one of the ropes give, but stopped twisting his hand when he heard a low growl. So, he sat, he waited and he thought about what would happen next.

After a minute, Joey tried blinking. The light had softened and once he adjusted, he looked around. The chair sat in the middle of the warehouse where he met with employees making a drop. A couple of the lights, including the one directly above him, were on but the rest of the building was dark.

As he gazed around, he began to be thankful for the darkness. Shapes ghosted around him, staying out of sight, things that shouldn’t exist.

Two chairs sat across from him. In one sat Claire, looking the same, yet different. There was a raw physical quality to her that Joey had never seen before. Her clothes had not changed, but his eyes were drawn to her soft curves. She was tempting and his mind wandered to all the times he had sent her away instead of exploring the body that she had offered. Demon or not, he wanted her.

Beside her sat an empty wooden chair. It was old, a polished from use by what must have been hundreds of people. As Joey looked back at Claire, he thought of bending her over it and taking her.

She smiled at him and Joey wondered if she were reading his mind.

“No she isn’t,” said a voice from the darkness. Steps clicked on the floor and the old man from the church stepped up between the seat and Claire. “She isn’t, but I am.”

Joey knew his mouth must have been hanging open, but he was too busy trying to piece together what the old man from the church was doing here.

“I am further from being an old man than you are.” He answered.

Joey shook his head and the man chuckled.

“You destroyed the book Joey. Do you know what that means?”


He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Claire reached one hand over and scratched her nails up and down his back while the old man smiled at Joey with a brown, rancid smile. “Joey, that book bound us to men like you. It also bound us to the rules of this world.”

Joey snarled one lip up in confusion.

“Joey, Joey, Joey. You set us free. All of us can go out into the world and do whatever we want now. We have been bound to whatever man was willing to make the sacrifice since that foul ledger was created by Solomon himself.”

Joey blinked. “Solomon?”

“The very same.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“We are going to have a lot of fun.” The old man straightened up and Claire put her hand back into her lap. “We are going to feast and dance and play like we haven’t in such a very long time.”

“What about me?”

The old man smiled again and stood, this time, he changed into a small, round faced child with curly brown hair. “I am going to leave you in Claire’s very capable hands. You have refused her all this time, I bet you can’t keep it up now that she is allowed to make the first move.”

Joey swallowed and shifted his gaze to his former assistant. She was chewing her bottom lip, running her fingers up and down the buttons of her blouse.

The child touched his forehead as if he were a bell hop in some old movie before turning to leave. “Have as much fun as you want Claire. You have earned it.”

She rose from the chair in a slow, flowing way that made Joey’s mouth water. “I will,” she said as she stepped towards the bound man.

Joey didn’t watch the boy leave. His eyes were fixed on Claire’s as she approached, and it took a minute before he realized that all the other things in the darkness had left with the old man.

“What are you going to do Claire,” he said with a cracking voice that he hadn’t heard since he had hit puberty.

“Oh Joey, there are so many things we can do.” Claire straddled him, her skirt climbing up her thighs and she settled onto his lap. “You had the chance to force me to do anything you wanted but you didn’t. Unlike every other man who held the book, you didn’t force me to please you.”

She leaned forward, and Joey felt the cold touch of her tongue and Claire licked up the edge of his ear.

“But you are also the only boss who ever had me shot.”

Joey screamed as pain erupted from the side of his face. He thrashed and twisted as pinpricks of burning agony spread across the side of his head. When Claire leaned back, her chin was covered in blood and Joey could see his ear between her teeth. She smiled around the mangled piece of flesh before sucking it into her mouth with a slurp.

“I am going to do everything that I have always wanted to do to a mortal man to you Joey,” Claire said. “Everything you can survive that is. After all, I wouldn’t want you to think I was neglecting my duties as your assistant.”

He thrashed from side to side as she leaned forward. He slammed his head into her face, but it didn’t even make her blink. She leaned up to his other ear and put her lips against it. Joey felt Claire’s hot breath as she whispered. “It’s a good thing I am your assistant. That way I was able to clear your calendar and be sure you had plenty of time to play with me.”




Categories: Flash Fiction, Horror, serial
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  1. December 21, 2013 at 7:15 AM

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