Flash Fiction (2)

Jackie, Blodeuedd and I are back to working up Flash Fiction fun. We will do flash fiction posts every two weeks, give or take due to holiday's and such. We are starting today with the first Flash Fiction. I will post my complete story here. Jackie will add the beginning and a link to her flash fiction on her Live Journal. Blodeuedd will be posting on her blog.

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((Title-less))
By:  Melissa Hayden

Meesha dropped her chin a touch, raising the inside of her eyebrows knowing it gave her brown eyes a wide-eyed look. Her eyes roamed the dark street as she hobbled down the metal sidewalk. Meesha redirected her hand from rubbing at her sore thigh to weaving through the air with the growing volume of music. Good thing she found the decorative gold band in the dressing room with this outfit. The stocking and band will hold it together, hopefully long enough for her to get back.

She looked over her shoulder. Meesha cursed herself. That was a rookie response, but with her leg losing feeling with each step, she couldn’t chance he find or follow her.

Almost there. Just to the end of the block. The street was filling with others, men and women of all creations for the nightly bazaar. She leaned forward, picking up her pace. Step, slid, step, slid. She could do it. The attire she found in the dressing room will let her blend in. Everything was revealing in this heated world, and she looked at her amounting exposed skin. She thought she was lucky that one of the dancers had a lover on the side that liked to grace her with the gold and metals plentiful in this station. She should blend right in, even if she wasn’t used to this dress.

The buzz of a scooter hit her ears causing her to stumble. Don’t look. Keep moving. Act normal. Another coming to the bazaar. She kept telling herself as the scooter hovered at her back.

She turned at the tall door, reaching for the scanner as she was yanked back onto the scooter by hard hands. One clasped over her mouth, the other around her waist. In this costume she had nothing to fight with. No secreted knives, no blasters. With this much skin showing, she was lucky to have the sheer material draped at her back to put the minimal protection between her skin and the sticky seat she landed on.

“Now I have you.” The stench of death from his meal breezed through the man’s mask turned Meesha’s stomach as his hoarse voice went on. “You thought you could get away with it. It’s mine and you are too.”

He was an off-worlder, maybe a Theadian from the size of his hands. But what would he want with the wand? It didn’t matter; the magic in it was desired by many on this side of the galaxy, probably from the other side too.

“Go.” He roughly called to the driver. “I have what I came for. Get to the ship and off this station.”

When he looked down at her, Meesha saw his eyes blink. Twice - once down, once across. Definitely a Theadian and she’s in his fierce grasp.

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