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Rated: E · Short Story · Family · #1676873
The ring of fire before me. I enter within.
I approach the circle of fire little by little, inch by inch. The flames leap high in the air, and I feel the heat upon my cool face. Suddenly, one section of the ring extinguishes. I step inside and the circle completes again.

A black rectangular table seems to float in silence out of the floor. The flames increase in intensity. The heat begins searing my skin. I try to use the table as a shield but to no avail. I climb upon its top to escape the scorching menace, licking at my flesh.

The sweat pours from my forehead. My clothes soaking in perspiration, I lay upon the black altar. Burning. I’m burning. Need to escape. The sensation of my skin crawling, and I look at my hands. Asps curl around my wrists, pinning me to the table. They hiss in my face.

I strain to free myself, but this makes them angry and they strike. I feel their teeth brush my cheeks. Frantic and in agony, I notice the same gap in the flames I’d walked through. I feel her presence, but she remains unseen.

I struggle until I see her shadowy face above me – holding the gargoyle encrusted dagger.

“Ahhhhh…,” I scream. “Please, don’t kill me! Please!” She takes the dagger with two hands and plunges it through my heart.


I shoot upright in a cold sweat. I inhale and exhale in long ragged breaths.

“Are you all right? Did you have a nightmare?” Bridget, my fiancĂ©e, touches my arm in concern. The storm outside rages with multiple lightning strikes and unbridled thunder.

“I think we ought to…" I swallow hard. "Call off the wedding.”

“The same nightmare about my mother?”

“Yes.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have told you she’s a Wiccan.”


298 Words
Flash Story Must contain: Circle, Nightmare, Unseen
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