Time : Flash Fiction


Unlike most people who complain all the time about the lack of “time”, I never did that, not even once in my entire life, simply because it’s pointless for me to complain about it. “Not that it would change anything,” I would answer to anyone that questions me about my habit of being so relaxed and procrastinating everything until the last minute. Nobody ever questioned me about why I am always calm but how could they when they could never see me.

I walked into the room slowly but steading and approached the old woman who was sleeping on the sofa. She seems happy which makes it difficult for me to do my job. I have always envied people who are happy because I wasn’t happy at all. In fact, I was never happy but I have come to accept that fact a long time ago. She was reading a book that she would never finish because she was going to die soon. I know its a pity especially since she was already halfway through but life is not always flowers and sunshine. In fact, most of the time, it’s garbage. I’m sure everyone knows it but they are still pretend that it isn’t. I don’t blame them. Pretending is a gateway from the miseries of life, after all.

I stood behind her and sucked the soul out off her body. She was lucky to die peacefully in her sleep as others are always afraid to die, knowing that it would probably be painful or something like that. I let her soul towards the door, leaving her empty corpse behind. I told her that I’m bringing her to heaven but of course, I was lying. The truth is, she was going to hell since that’s her fate.

Most people who could see me or could read my stories would call me a murderer and a liar but to some others, I’m simply a death angel who is also known as the grim reaper. I sometimes find it cute that people think that I would come and bring them to a better place. Oh, sometimes I couldn’t wait to see the shock on their faces as I push them all into the burning pits of hell. Most never expected it but then again, humans always think they are perfect head to toe, even when they aren’t and that’s a pity.


The Death : Flash Fiction


I walked away from the funeral because it was getting a little bit emotional which is something that I have always hated my entire life. Of course the family of the deceased would be sad or even hurt that I left so early but at least my psychiatrist would be happy that I was finally showing some emotion even if it was temporary. It have always been a problem that he tried so hard to tackle and since I killed the pervious psychiatrist who happens to be his father, he have been trying his best to improve my condition. The family didn’t press charges, of course, because my old psychiatrist signed a waiver form of some kind saying that he was ok if I killed him.

I still went to court and there was a huge and long debate on whether of not I should be sent to prison but finally it was decided that I’m innocent as it turned out that he wanted to die all along. Of course some “family values” retards went on a full protest but it was shut down. That night, everyone said that they were wishing that they would join the dead man soon and so, I carried out their wishes. I shot the first five dead but I didn’t anticipate the size of the large crowd. Of course, they were begging for their life and what not but I was sure they were just acting. After all, who doesn’t want to die?

I Have Come To You


“I have come to you,” I said to the person at the tree. The person was not paying attention by I didn’t mind it. After all, it took me more than a week to arrive but it wasn’t my fault. Every time I wanted to make a move, there’s always something that stopped me and every time it happens, I try to figure out what it was. I was sure the person at the tree was too tired to hear me explain any more about the thing that was always stopping me.

“You know,” I said to him. “Maybe you didn’t call out of me loud enough. Maybe I didn’t hear you call out for me because I was far away and you were merely whispering,” I said to the person who still remained quiet but he nodded his head, signalling that he was hearing what I was talking about. “Many people told me that I was never there when they called out to me. I found it weird because of I when I do arrive, they were never there and I don’t know where they live, what they look like,” I explaining to the nodding man who seemed as if he was about to go to sleep soon.

“Then they concluded that I will never come and that I don’t exist. Well, maybe I’m not real, but what is real?” I continued blabbering, not sure if the person is still hearing me. “Someone told me they died shortly after leaving before I could arrive. That’s a shame. If only they cried out louder and a little bit sincerer,” I explained. “I mean I gave them many things before even when they didn’t ask for it. Couldn’t they at least waited a little longer? I agree I told them they need to do many things in return but couldn’t they wait for another second just as a token of gratitude?” I ranted. “So,” I asked the man who was hanging from the tree, “What is it that you want?”

He never did answered me.

Pretty Sure I Was Dead : Flash Fiction

I was sure that I was dead. The car hit me pretty hard and it didn’t stop. Everyone seems to be ignoring me, despite the fact that my face was covered in blood and I was missing a tooth or two. “Perhaps they just think I’m weird,” I said to myself but after about 20 people paid no attention to me, I finally concluded that the crash killed me and that I’m a restless ghost with some kind of an unfinished business. But, I don’t care about that, because finally, I’m dead after trying and wishing for so long. My number one priority was to jump off a building, simply because I find it thrilling to do so. It wasn’t until I heard the screams that I realised I survived the crash. I never died.

Some Random Ramblings

Hello, humans. It has been two weeks since I wrote a blog post on a train which means today I’m writing it on a train too. If last two weeks I said that it was shaking like crazy, this week, it doesn’t move at all, in the sense that it would move for a little and stop for a long time and move again. At this rate, I don’t even know if I could reach home before the weekend ends. It’s not that I’m grumpy, no. It’s nothing like that. Firstly, they said it’s a “fast” train that “never stops” except it’s a lie cause it does stop and it’s not fast at all.

I do realise that sometimes, technical problems occur but sometimes is forgivable. ALL THE TIME isn’t, especially since we (the passengers) had to pay more for a so called “better” service. What worse is that I have to hear someone of a high ranking giving a speech about how great the transport system is in the country. Apparently “great” means that the service is delayed without explanation and the train stopping randomly even when there’s no other train passing through the opposite direction. Sometimes I wonder if they would ever give the affect passengers a rebate or something like that but I guess a dream remains a dream most of the time.

All these ranting made me think about the word “great” that have been coined around lately. For example, Trump said he wants to make America great again and Emmanuel Macron said he wants to make the PLANET great again cause someone said climate change isn’t real and refused to take responsibility (as usual). Anyway, what is ‘great’? Surely the definition varies from people to people right? For example, if you ask me what makes a country “great”, I would say it’s a country where everyone gets an equal opportunity to advance in life, where the people work together for a peaceful community and where nobody is discriminate against for being who they are. Of course, someone with a different ideology than me might disagree completely (or partially). So tell me, my dear readers, what’s the meaning of “great”? Tell me in the comments below.

A Love Story : The End

Although I didn’t move a muscle at first, after being shook violently by my bestfriend, I ran out of the room and Eleanor layed on the floor. “What the hell was all that?” he asked angrily while pulling me towards the door. “We can’t escape,” I said. “There’s no escape. We will all die. DIE!” I screamed as the reached the door. Just as I turned the knob, a wailing could be heard coming from the room upstairs, it was Eleanor. “She will kill us!” I panicked when the realisation that the door couldn’t be opened hit me. My best friend pulled me towards him and gave me a tight slap. “For God sake, can you please stop talking about death?”

“Death is everywhere,” I said as we saw Eleanor crawling down the stairs. “You can’t run, you can’t hide,” she giggled as she crawled closer to us. “What a tragedy,” she declared. “Two friends found dead in their house, trying to save one another. Both of you will be famous instantly,” she said. “How about this for a headline? A guy kills a dead woman, chops her into pieces and saves the day,” I suggested, feeling annoyed about the whole situation. “You know what’s your problem?” I asked her. “You are never grateful,”

“I was grateful,” she said. “I was a relgious fanatic. I attended church without failing. I pray to God everyday but what did I get? I got nothing! I didn’t choose to be born. I didn’t beg to God, asking him to create me!” Eleanor yelled furiously. “People told me God is just testing me, reason being he loves me. Is torturing someone called love? NO!” she continued. “When I met that hooded figure one night, he promised he would help me even if I refuse to do everything that he wants. He told me that he could make me happy. I was happy for a while then it all started again,” she explained.

“I helped you end the lives of those of hurt you. I killed them all for you,” I said. “And you chose to repay that by killing me? You are worse than God then! When people do as you told them to, you reward them with misery. You, them, all the same,” I said. “Enough of these philosophical talk!” Eleanor exclaimed as she lashed out towards my best friend who was trying to act and look tough but failing rather spectaculary. He got out of the way just in time but she still manages to scratch one side of his face rather deeply. “Leave him alone!” I demanded as I charged towards her.

Pushing her towards the ground, I locked my hands around her rotten throat which was kind of digusting but I didn’t mind. Before I knew it, she pushed me off, sending me on a brief flight across the room. I was sure that I was knocked out for a few seconds because when I woke up, she was using her supernatural abilities to try and suffocate my best friend to death. With all the strength in my body, I ran as fast as I could towards them and pushed her aside. I was sure that the impact broke one of my fingers but I didn’t mind. That was when a photo of her fell out of my pocket.

Before she could do anything else, I launched myself at her for the second time and this time, I held on as tightly as I could at her throat, on the mission of killing her for the second time. She was too strong for me as she literally pulled off my hands and started to break my fingers one by one. As I screamed in agony and defeat, I heard something whispering into my ears. “Hold the picture in front of her and don’t let her go,”. I was sure that it was the hooded figure. Albeit knowing that it might be a trap, I decided to just get on with it. I let her go and immediately used my right hand to grab the picture and placed it in front of her, and dived onto her body, trying to pin her to the ground.

She began screaming as I hold on to her and tightly as I could. “LET ME GO!!!!” she shouted as the whole house started to shake and her scream got louder and louder. I could feel my grib on her losening quick as I had only one functioning hand. “Run!” I shouted to my best friend who stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Out of desperation, I used my severely injured hand as well to keep her pinned to the ground as her body started to glow red. Realising that it was not working, I bit into her neck with my teeth as she continued to scream in pain and the whole house trembles.

“I will kill you all!” she screams as she finally manages to let go of me but the picture was still stuck to her face for some reason. Eventhough I was pushed off her, it wasn’t don’t without any consequences as I managed to rip off a good portion of her neck. Albeit disgusting, it was always worth it to go down with a fight. “I don’t think so,” my best friend said as he impaled her from behind with presumbably a piece of pipe that fell down as the house was shaking. “It’s time for you to die,” he said as she finally exploded into dusts. We ran outside just as the house finally gave away to the mini earthquake.

Two months later, I find myself walking out of the forest where I sank all of Eleanor’s picture together with her dad and my best friend. As we went through the photos one by one, I felt at ease, knowing that I helped an old man going over what was probably the hardest time of his life. As part of Eleanor’s last wishes before she died, I invited her dad to come and stay with me and my best friend and he gladly accepted our offer. It turns out that his illness finally shows signs of recovery for the first time in years and whether or not he will die from his illness, I was sure that he didn’t want to die alone.

I smiled at my best friend as our taxi drove away from the forest, hopefully for the last time. He proposed to me a week after I got out of hospital and after he asked me the question for a second time, I couldn’t say no. As for Eleanor, I would still talk to her sometimes in my dreams. She would give me the names and show me the pictures of the people she wants me to kill next. Of course, I could ignore it all but how could I when I’m still in love with her.

The End