The Prediction - it's a slipperly little beastie

Why, hello again. More words from the past coming to greet you. Hope that everyone enjoyed the bank holiday weekend and that you were able to have some fun with 'squid'.
Now, if everything went to plan then we had a winner announced for last week. If said writer would be so kind, do let everyone know who you thought was the outstanding entry this week. As I said last week, no obligation but would be nice if you could.
If we had no winner announced then such is life and you shall still have your new words.
Further to last week's newspaper stories about a strange beastie causing havoc on the moors, there are unconfirmed rumours of an actual attack! Etched into the victim's body were three simple words:
  • Post
  • Shield
  • Immoral 
The usual rules apply: 100 words maximum, excluding the title, of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above in the genres of horror, fantasy or science fiction. All variants and use of the words as stems are fine. Just have fun!

You have until 9pm (UK time) Thursday 6 September to get your entries in. New words will be displayed shortly afterwards. If you can, please tweet about your entry using the #fridayflash #100words or #flashfiction hashtags and blog if you feel like it. Please tell your friends and do give feedback to your fellow Predictioneers - everyone appreciates it!
Really looking forward to catching up on all the wonderful tales that are pouring forth!


  1. Congratulations Matt Farr and to my runner up Antonia Woodville

    Interesting words I'm off to have a play and finish the Sausage Rolls and Vin rouge Over to you Matt, Good luck.

    1. Who knows I might learn to punctuate and spell one day :D

    2. Congratulations Matt and Antonia.

  2. thanks again, William! and many congratulations, Matt!!!
    good words, I am off to study them ...

  3. Slipperly indeed these words - falsely innocuous. But congratulations to Matt and Antonia, and this week's episode.

    The blacksmith's wife [part 34]

    Gabriel’s ever-fluctuating sense of filiality returned him to accusative.

    ‘Your callous immorality shocks me,’ he complained, days after he’d willingly posted his limp and green-shit-leaking brother through the side-slats of the dead-dog cart while I shielded him by offering soup to its malodorous driver.

    My own concerns were several: I was with child to a man I’d wed most willingly but now wondered if I should have second thoughts; the Earl was like to demand both letters and retribution for my alleged releasing of Mathias, and now approaching with a needing-shod stallion was the speedwell-eyed youth I’d once lain with.

    1. Oh dear what has th girl gotten herself into!?

    2. I absolutely love your descriptions. speedwell-eyed youth makes me swoon. The twists and turns are delightful.

  4. Greetings all, just popping in for a quick play but judging is all Matt's this week. I shall resume duties next week.


    Wind whispered softly into Rain's delicate ear, their bodies entwined post-coitous, their skin shimmering in the idyllic dawn of creation.

    Rain's brothers found them lying asleep in their innocence. They came filled with hate, crying betrayal and immorality, threatening violence.

    Thunder and Lightning boomed and slashed at Wind. Their sister fell unconscious as she shielded her lover from their blows.

    Wind bellowed in rage, a Banshee's screech, separating as grief and anger poured forth, echoing across the cosmos.

    Still the trio fight, Thunder, Wind and Lightning, waging war across the skies as Rain weeps for the loss of her lover.

    1. Epic. Brings to mind really gorgeous American Indian stories. I really liked this.

    2. Such a beautifully wrought mythology. It feels old and practiced and absolutely right, like a bard's recitation of how things really are.

    3. I saw more Norse than anything else, but mythological, as Rebecca says. And taking place under a wide, wide sky.

  5. not many of us playing this week, where is everyone?
    Sandra, superb episode.
    Phil, like it!

    here's my entry:

    The Dream
    The green maggots got him more than the unseen terror beyond. He clung to the post, desperate to find some kind of shield against the things which were crawling all over him. Bright green, nearly hi-viz, horrendous. He clawed at his face, dragging them from his eyelids and nostrils, mouth clamped shut against their potential invasion.
    “What you did was immoral,” intoned a sepulchral voice, chilling him to the bone.
    “But I…”
    “Have no defence,” the voice broke in on his excuse.
    And still the maggots came.
    He woke screaming from the nightmare.
    And found they were still there.

    1. Yuck - don't like the sound of this at all. The 'mouth clamped shut' says it all.

    2. Ack. We need to know what he did. Ick. Absolutely creepy and I mean that in the best possible way.

    3. How fabulously vile! I can deal with all manner of monsters and gore, but bugs really get to me. My skin is crawling. Well done.

  6. Another episode, to fill the over-empty space

    The blacksmith's wife [part 35]

    Post his immoral interlude with the tavern-doxy, how would Gabriel now view my past philanderings? Given that he’d also seen me taken by his brother, he surely couldn’t now complain?
    The boy was beautiful, which was why I’d wanted him. Finger to my lips I directed him to the meadow behind the forge, trusting that the meadowsweet would shield us.
    Led the horse to Gabriel, smiled sweet and said ‘No hurry.’
    But I was mistook to think that all was fair, that because there was no danger of foisting onto Gabriel a bastard brat, he would not mind.
    He did.

    1. Oh, dear. Seems Gabriel is not a "what's good for the gander is good for the goose" sort of fellow. I should like to slap him for that.

  7. Alternate history is SF right...I'll have a play (apologies for the lateness and lack of comments mad week.)

    Rainford, Spring 1939

    Shielded from Blackshirt fire by a burnt out van daubed ‘Free Liverpool Union of Postal Workers’ Ernie in a tarnished Postman’s uniform lit a fag. He lit a second he passed it to Eric, shirtsleeves, flat cap and gor blimey trousers.

    ‘War is an immoral act” stated the Postie.

    “But necessary.”

    “Congratulations my son I consider you ideologically pure.”

    The Docker looked at his red and black anarchist armband.

    “You sure about that?”

    Mosleyites charged supported by regular army machine guns.
    The comrades slid to their stomachs and aimed rifles.

    “There’s no ideological division in the front lines comrade.”

    1. Aren't you something. Clever work with those words. Yay. I enjoyed reading this.

    2. Oh, this is good. I love alternate history. I would read more and more of this.

  8. Evening all. I have not been feeling overly fond of my own writing recently. Usually I just stop writing but this time I decided to force myself. Maybe I can clear a few cobwebs. Here is my attempt.

    "Suicide is immoral, a sin, but I cannot wait for the monster to return. I've seen what it can do; what it did. I am not that brave," the explorer shifted her seat, adjusted the camera to which she spoke. Icy wind rattled the roof causing instruments to whine. "This is my last post. The outer barricade breached, the shield useless. My colleagues are gone, all dead but one. I can hear him out there crying. He'll be finished by nightfall," she gagged. "Better to be dead."

    1. The horror lies it the believability of this. 'cy wind rattled the roof causing instruments to whine' sets the scene so well.

    2. Chilling in every sense of the word. Her despair really bled through.

  9. Turn pike

    Milepost numbers increased as I rode north on a bike I’d stolen from a kid too drunk to have survived the ride home. He’d consider me an immoral asshole who’d taken his substitute girlfriend. It was that kind of douche-rocket.

    He might not be my blood, but I had to shield Uncle Jim from the worst of the fallout.

    My palm throbbed as I cataloged the many ways Nate tries to cripple me. I always take the hit. My inevitable recovery infuriates him, but serves its purpose. He’s almost used to it.

    Someday, he’s going to beg for my magic.

    1. And I find myself longing for the payoff to be dozens of episodes hence. Tension strung out again, pearl after pearl of a story.

  10. Couldn't resist having another go. A non-Seth story this time:

    Parade Rest

    They rode in, prideful over havoc wreaked, saddles creaking, stiff. Weren’t the only thing needed a good rubbing. They called for any who’d polish their posts for a coin.

    If t'were only immoral, some might have gone. But money’s not so dear we’d risk touching those men. We kept our hands behind our backs, careful, smart.

    Most of us did.

    Sarah’s youngest stepped out, offering. The Night slid down and took her on his shield where we could watch her writhe… and wither. He put the coin on her forehead, payment for sin, and left her mam to clean up.

    1. Oh ye gods and little silvered fishes - this is SOOO good, so unique and original and so well wrought. Excellent stuff indeed Rebecca.

  11. Well I shall be back later to pass Judgement on you all, which I'm not worried or neurotic about in any way.


    Anyway, in the meantime here's a sequel of sorts to something I posted a few weeks back.

    Shadows in the Dark Light, Part II

    The Pit is like coming home after a long time away, only I don’t have to worry about the mail piled up at the door or whether I’d remembered to feed the cat. There is a comfort here, away from questions of justice or truth, and the compromise and immorality of the surface world.

    I can feel the darkness itself distorting around my presence, the creatures so used to be being predators now discovering that they are prey. I have taught them that the shield of other peoples fear is a weak one indeed, and without it they are vulnerable.

    1. I for one am gad you are judging and not to be judged - this is both immense and miniature (sounds daft but I know what I mean) - exceedingly wel done Matt.

  12. a little bit late but closing off here - thanks for everyone who wrote in!

    will ponder and post up a winner in the morning!

  13. Right, after sleeping on it I'm going to have to go with Rebecca's "Parade Rest". Nice story, liked the prose voice too. Congratulations!

    (and i'm glad i don't have to do that again! back to you, Phil!)


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