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Welcome to another month of #TwitterTales or Twitter Tales. Short story tales on twitter. These posts are every Thursday and Friday for a whole month.

Here is May 2018:

“Where are we headed?” Mike asked.

“To some special beach Casey knows about,” his girl, Anna, answered. She handed him her things to shove inside the back of the SUV.

“But where?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Casey winked at them.

“No swimming. We need to pick our rooms,” Anna said once they arrived. They entered the cabin and put away their things. The doorbell rang.

“Drew came,” Lexi yelled. She ran to the door and opened it. A scream rippled out of her throat.

“Move,” the intruder demanded. When she didn’t respond, he pushed her out of the way.

“What do you want?” Mike asked, blocking everyone.

“To play a game.”

“No way, man. Is this some type of joke?” Mike glanced at Casey.

He shook his head.

The man held up a gun. “Come outside or I’ll kill you.”

The five friends were led to four beach chairs near the water.

“What do we do?” Beth asked scared.

“Sit.”

“But there are only four chairs.”

“Decide who dies.”

“We can’t…we won’t.”

The man pulled out his cell and Pop Goes the Weasel flowed through the speakers. “When the music ends, you sit. The last one standing, I kill. You don’t play, you die.”

“We can’t do this. He can’t kill us all if we run,” Beth whispered.

“What are you doing?” Lexi asked.

“I’m not dying,” Anna said, walking around the chairs.

Her friends joined her. They whispered what to do until the music cut off. They raced for the open chairs. Beth beat Casey to one, and he yanked her off.

“Please don’t,” Beth begged the guy. Bang. She died.

“Killing your girl is cold, man,” Mike said. The music started again, and the friends walked around the three chairs.

“Pop! Goes the weasel,” the last line played. Only Lexi was standing.

The killer pointed his gun at her and pulled the trigger. Lexi died.

“Again,” he said after removing another chair.

“Sit, Anna,” Mike said, giving up his chair. “I love you.”

Before Anna could say anything, a bullet slammed into his head.

The last notes played. Casey and Anna fought for the chair. She sat by cheating.

“Ha,” she said. The gun pointed at her. "You can't, I won."

“You can't win,” the killer said. He ripped off his mask, revealing the face of a second Casey. Bang.

To find my posts, search for #TwitterTales @kamengauthor. You'll also see a bunch more from other authors with my publisher.

Here is a sneak peek of next months:

“I’m not sure about this,” Izzy said scared. She glanced up at the tall wheel of death.

“Come on, you never want to do anything fun. I’ll be with you,” her twin, Bella, said. She pouted her lips.

“Fine. If I die you can tell mom.”


Welcome to my monthly Twitter Tales share. Twitter Tales or #TwitterTales is a month long project that uses a single image and tells the story of it. Several different authors, myself included, write their own flash fiction tale. The goal is to post on Twitter on Thursday & Friday every week for the whole month. Here is the latest flash fiction from me if you missed it for April 2018. Enjoy!

“Should we be doing this?” Gretchen asked. Her lower lip quivered, and her grip tightened on the lantern.

“Don’t be scared. We have nothing to fear here,” Eliza whispered.

“Why aren’t you talking louder then? What about the witch?”

“She doesn’t come where we’ll go for the herbs.” Eliza shushed her little sister the next second. She thought she heard something. When nothing but an owl hooted, she continued onto the path. Only animals were out here this late, not the witch.

They took a good ten minutes until they reached a fork in the path. The road diverted in three different directions. Going straight would lead to a bridge and past that was the witch’s cabin. Eliza steered her sister to the left.

They continued, passing by an abandon one room cabin. When their father was younger, he spoke about how many more there used to be. The purpose behind them was for travelers to take shelter from the bitter cold. Not many were left now.

The path opened, revealing the bright red lights from the CVS Pharmacy sign. A few horses and buggies were parked in front of the store.

“Do we have to go in there? The witch may be inside,” Gretchen said, sounding scared.

“If we want to help father, we do,” Eliza said. She stood in front of the magical doors and they swung open.

“See witchcraft.”

Eliza selected a bottle of the good tasting purple medicine and set it on the counter to pay.

“You’re not old enough to buy this,” the attendant said.

“But miss, my father will die without it,” Eliza said.

“If he needs this, he has a cold. He isn’t going to die. It’ll only seem like he is with all the complaining he’s doing.”

“The witch!” Gretchen said.

“Stop calling me that. I'm not a witch." A sigh escaped her lips. "You can buy these magical throat drops without being of age.”

“We’ll take it,” Eliza said. Her father wouldn’t get better without something.

For those who want to know more about #TwitterTales check out #TwitterTales @kamengauthor on twitter. Look for a new post every Thursday and Friday by me and several other authors from my publisher's company. Here is a sneak peak of my next one:

“Where are we headed?” Mike asked.

“To some special beach Casey knows about,” his girl, Anna, answered. She handed him her things to shove inside the back of the SUV.

“But where?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Casey winked at them.


Like I did last month, here is the complete #TwitterTales for me based on this image:

Being the last lawmen in these parts, Gray kept the peace and listened carefully. A rumor floated around that a light could be spotted at the top of the Crooked Mountain after dark. No one dared to go there in years. The Wastelands surrounded it.

Gray decided to check this out for himself, and sure enough the light was on. Who could be there? Why would they cross the desolated Wastelands every night? He’d have his answers tomorrow. He packed his bag and waited for morning.

The sun was rising when Gray stepped near the edge of the Wastelands with his deputy, a falcon. He threw a satchel onto the barren ground, and the soil disintegrated the material in seconds. A body would disappear in minutes.

Gray wore a solid pair of boots he had lifted off a dead man weeks ago. He stepped over the divide and nothing happened. The ground was safe to walk across. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, and he turned to his partner, saying, “Wait here.”

The falcon screeched at him like it understood.

Gray tipped his hat, and he shuffled into the Wastelands. After a few miles, the sun shinned down on him and sweat pooled along his back. He wiped at it with an old handkerchief.

Opening his canteen, he sipped on dirty water. He would have to ration himself. Walking to the Crooked Mountain would take a day and returning would take another. He doubted he’d find anything drinkable along the way that wouldn’t kill him.

By the time Gray arrived, he was exhausted. The heat had zapped his energy. At least the air cooled when night fell. He stared at the side of the mountain, noticing strange metal pieces sticking out like someone had made handles to climb.

A light above his head flicked on. Gray checked his gun. He grabbed the first rung, pulling himself up. He climbed until he reached a ledge at the top. The ground was metal, something he didn’t expect. The material looked like stone.

Removing his gun from the holster, Gray crept along until he entered a chamber. No one was here. The light had come from a bulb above his head. He touched it and pulled his hand back from the hot object. He hadn’t seen one since he was a boy.

Gray yelled in the next room, “Hands up."

“If I do, this spaceship will lift off. It's not ready," the guy said.

"Why is this here?"

"Humanity fled to the stars. This craft was left behind and it poisoned the Earth."

"Get it fixed to leave."

For those who want to know more about #TwitterTales check out #TwitterTales @kamengauthor on twitter. My publisher came up with this great idea for monthly stories based on a single image. Look for a new post every Thursday and Friday by me and several other authors. Here is a sneak peak of my next one:

“Should we be doing this?” Gretchen asked. Her lower lip quivered, and her grip tightened on the lantern.

“Don’t be scared. We have nothing to fear here,” Eliza whispered.

“Why aren’t you talking louder then? What about the witch?”

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