Mar 17, 2020
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the @smplivezine is out so here's my piece for it!! you can download the zine for free on their account
SMPtober; Ash
Months have passed, and the prisoner was still at large. Joe slammed his hand onto the wooden table, the sound reverberated across the hollow concrete office. The man sighed out of frustration as he ran a hand through his hair. Anger bubbled up in his chest as he scanned through the documents on the criminal yet again.
He had every detail about the low-life memorised. Name Taylor, twenty-one-years-old, brown hair, brown eyes—all fucking useless without his location.
Joe leaned back in his office chair, trying to sort his thoughts. This was too much stress for the small town commander. He reached for the carton of cigarettes on the far end of the desk. One couldn’t hurt, he thought as he lit the cigarette.
Smoke burned his lungs, he kept reviewing the documents that lay before him. He stood up, nerves burning up throughout his body. The commander exhaled. Thin white smoke escaped his lips and lifted into the air. The gas separated into tiny clouds before evaporating before him. A few more hits, still pacing back and forth.
His patience finally snapped. He ripped the door open and walked into the empty hall. None of his men would be up and if they were, they’d be on guard. If you want something done, you have to do it yourself.
It was a silent night; Few people were normally out and about at this hour. He retraced his guards’ steps into the thick forest.
Many hours passed before he ran into the same cliff face his men described. It was rather tall, made up of smooth grey stone all the way to the top. He squinted his eyes to spot any sign the perpetrator’s whereabouts.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a clue—a small indentation in the otherwise smooth wall. Glee overtook him as he climbed up the mountain front, thanking the sun for staying up a few minutes longer than usual. He flicked his still-lit cigarette into the forest.
Ducking his head, Joe enter the cave.
A small pile of hay and grass in one corner, leftover food in another—all signs that the fugitive he was looking for was, in fact, alive and well. He placed a hand on the pistol on his hip. He snuck around the larger cavern.
Several tense minutes passed before he finished his search of the cave. There was no one; Irritation returned. Out of instinct, his fist crashed against the rocky wall. A gasp sounded from the entrance.
He whipped around—Taylor stood; the sun setting behind him and the creature beside him. Its head came at the man’s waist, wings outstretched to his shoulder.
“You! It’s you! Don’t you dare fucking move, you-”
That was all he could scream before the whelp beside the traitor opened its deadly mouth. Everything happened in slow-motion. Joe could see a light come from the back of its throat and crawl forward to the front. The flame flew out towards the commander. Taylor shouted something, but the roar of the oncoming blast and fear of what would come next overtook his senses. A blood-curdling scream tore through the air as his body burned, skin blistering and sizzling away.
The only thing that remained of the loyal man was a pile of ash. Taylor stared in horror, certain he would hear that scream in his dreams for the rest of his life.