Another Flash Fic Challenge

Another flash fic challenge, and a story I always wanted to write. Who survives a slasher film? Let’s flip the script …





As soon as Eric scrambled in, Lissa slammed the door shut, and Alex shoved over a bookcase in front of it, a makeshift barricade that probably wouldn’t last for long.

“Holy shit,” Eric said, standing in the middle of the room and panting. His tank top was wet with blood, and he still had the meat cleaver in his hand. “What the fuck kinda party is this?”

It was New Year’s Eve, and for a few moments there, it actually seemed like maybe, for once, things would be okay. Yeah, Brittany was one of the school’s “mean girls”, a cheerleader with more power than seemed logical and a following that seemed almost completely devoted to her awesome rack, since her personality was pretty vile. But her parents were rich, and she threw total ragers, so when the blanket invite went out over her Facebook page, who was gonna say no? As far as Alex could tell, about three-fourths of the student population of Lambeth High showed up.

So when the guy wearing a burlap bag over his head showed up, everyone thought it was a joke. It was a legend of the area, right? The Bagman, supposedly a crazed killer who had massacred a couple of farm families – when Lambeth had actual farms, not suburbs – and was never caught. Legend had it he was a drifter passing through, or a scarecrow come to life, but Alex figured it was all white people bullshit. Until the guy with the bag on his head pulled a huge fucking scythe out of nowhere and took out half the defensive line of the football team with a single blow. And that’s when a boring beer bash became a surreal bloodbath.

“Are we it? The only ones left?” Eric said, finally looking around the room. His eyes were wide, shell shocked, and his guyliner was smeared.

Lissa pulled up her halter top, which kept trying to sneak down, and shrugged. “I thought I saw Kaitlin run for the garage, but has anyone heard any cars start up?”

Eric shook his head, and Alex just shrugges. They all knew the answer. They’d all seen shitty horror films. “How is this even happening?” Eric asked. “This is real life, goddamn it.”

“Are we sure?” Alex asked, unable to keep this observation to himself.

Eric and Lissa stared at him like he was the crazy one. “What?”

“Look at us. The flamboyant gay guy, the slutty girl, and the black guy.” He snickered derisively, although it was only funny in a bleak sort of way. “We all die first in horror films. We’re designated victims.”

“Who are you calling slutty?” Lissa snapped, then took a swig from the beer can she had managed to bring with her in her escape. He actually admired her presence of mind. “Yeah, okay, that’s probably fair. But just ’cause I own my sexuality doesn’t make me a slut, dick.”

“You tell him, sister,” Eric said, then rolled his eyes. “Oh Jesus, could I say anything more stereotypical?”

“See?” Alex exclaimed. “This is a scenario! A set up. We’re being written.”

“By who?” Lissa asked.

Eric scoffed. “A hack, obvs.”

“So whadda we do?” Lissa asked, before letting out a giant burp.

“Gross,” Eric said.

Alex looked around. One of the books that had fallen from the bookcase was weird looking, although he wasn’t sure why until he picked it up. It was a book with the story of the Bagman in it, but it stopped half way through, leaving blank pages. “We write our way out,” he said, sitting down on the carpet and digging a pen out of his pocket.

“Will that work?” Lissa asked.

“No idea,” Alex admitted. “You got a better idea?”

No one did, so they sat down beside him and tried to figure out what to write. Alex decided to make it short but memorable: Either we get out of this alive, or we send Baghead after you.

“Can we do that?” Lissa asked.

“Sure. It’s called being meta. Ever seen Adaptation?”

Outside, they heard police sirens, and Eric went to look out the small attic window. There was no way he could see much, but it was probably worth a shot. There was the noise of cops shouting, some guy yelling “Christ compels you,” and then a huge fusillade of bullets that seemed to go on for two minutes. The silence that rushed in after was unnerving, but then they heard lots of footsteps on the stairs, and a woman shouting, “Police! Are there any survivors here?”

“You scared him good,” Lissa said. Together, the three of them shoved the bookcase away from the door, at least until they could open it again. Eric dropped the cleaver, which he seemed to realize he still had only as an afterthought.

Before they left, Alex grabbed the book, and tucked it under his arm. If you were in a story, especially a horror story, you probably needed all the power you could get.

Hey. Maybe he could work it so he was the main character. That would be cool.


Genres: Slasher film/comedic fantasy

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