Those damn onion cutting ninjas

The fervent cries of religious ecstasy hung on the night air like dewed cobwebs. Entrapping. Utter rapture. All false.

That did not stop the torrent of sound, crashing down upon you like dark waves at high tide, threatening your sanity. Ironically, this was the reason you were bound at the wrists, listening to the preachings of the hooded figure before you.

“You have been sentenced,” he states simply. The court of lies was quick to pass its judgement - “to rehabilitation in the Asylum until you are deemed worthy to continue our work in spreading Her word.”

The priest leans down, his rank breath and mottled hood tickling at your face. His blackened teeth glisten in the firelight as a tongue slithers past, grinning.

“You are starting to see things for what they truly are. Only the chosen. Only the righteous who are steadfast to Her mission should be allowed that honor,” he whispers. Rising jeers at his back would have ensured that this was not heard, regardless.

A quick motion of the hand and you were dragged to your feet. His lean straightened; the priest turns to the crowd that had gathered to watch your sentencing with hungry eyes. Bloodshot eyes that almost glow red in the covering darkness. The voices that carried were not the ones that belonged to them, rather, the ones that came from the flickering orange of the burning village.

Could they not see?

“Her kindness. The favors that She bestows upon us. Her eternal, everlasting love is wasted upon this… wretch,” he says, voice carrying with the weight of an executioner’s axe. “Stripped of name and title, the Asylum will make right.”

The practiced arms, locked tight around your own, move you forward. They belonged to towering men, steadfast in their belief. They knew Her will and they knew when the priest was finished all too well. Dragging you forward through the throng, you are able to take in the truth. Clothes that were little more than rags hung on skeletal bodies, worn like well-tailored garments by those who could not see. Beautiful faces, gaunt and smeared with blood like tainted make-up, shone in the light revealing what they were. You knew and they did not.

The village that loomed in the darkness grows as you enter, walking along with legs that wanted to turn into jam. The fires that burned in the distance roar like beasts now, the heat causing you to sweat. Was it the heat that caused that? People that are not the denizens of this place watch you like beasts themselves. Bodies strewn throughout the streets are kicked aside by your entourage, offal spreading across the ground in a fresh glaze.

A man standing too close to a broken window, a charred corpse hanging out of it desperate to escape the fire, is licked by the flames. His shirt smolders, having burnt out on its own before arriving, exposing an arm and shoulder blistering and crackling as he shifts. Blood streams down to his elbow, sizzling and evaporating. The smell of burning flesh and blood turning to steam causes you to turn your head away and hold your breath.

You turn your head to face a family watching you. They coldly condemn you. You, the heretic.

Their young daughter, having learned from her parents and the surrounding members of the community, does the same. In her hand hanging limply is her doll. The severed hand and forearm of a missing body. She squeezes it tighter and brings it up to her chest, the bloody sinew and tendons adding another layer to her sullied dress.

“You don’t deserve Her!” she shouts at you.

Could they not see? You do not want Her. This dark god. This god of madness.

You are helpless. Your mouth is both dry and wet with the threat of vomit at the same time. You cannot speak a word against the atrocity of this place. To defend yourself against the words of a child. No one could see but you. The way that your group had descended upon this village that stood no chance against Her flock. Ripped from beds. Butchered alive. The village refused to answer Her call. Now they answer to nothing.

A babe, cradled by its mother, bounces gently as you pass. The mother’s eyes stare at you in disgust. How dare you question the gifts of your god. Flies swooped around the baby, landing on its face. Crawling. Entering. Exiting.

Your stomach tightens, bile teasing the back of your throat. She looks away from you to coo at her infant, her hum tickling the layer of flies, causing them to lift and begin their cycle of flight and landing again. The gray face looks up to the sky, holes where the insects nested never questioning.

“They will make the wretch right again,” she reassuring her child, loud enough for you to hear.

The burly men half carry you at this point, your legs giving way and feet bumping helplessly along the cobbled ground. You cannot help but look up at them, surely you are not the one who is mad amongst this mob.

The one to your left, closest to the repugnant mother, nods to her. “Your babe will grow up strong and help us stand against the ones who reject Her.”

No. You are not mad. You reassure yourself, almost like a mantra. You will get out of this. You will get help.

As if reading your mind, the guard that spoke looks down at you with cold eyes. “This one will get all the help that’s needed.”

[deleted]

That's amazing work man, but because the name from the MC is Jeff I can only picture Jeff Johanson from the game dead by daylight and this is actually so much better XD

I swear there's an anime with this nearly exact premise.

"...Now that's a warrior spirit."

Anyway, the chihuahua's your attack hound now.

punt

:) that was the idea so very cool that came through. I will edit and see what I can do about that...I was trying to give it that normal conversational feel but missed as it was not broken up right :)

Thanks for the feedback too :)

Omg that exact video was what I thought of when I saw the prompt! I LOVE LOVE LOVE this prompt.

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> Still, for all her qualities, I struggle to understand how she had become a massive direwolf in the consciousness of the people.

All lap dogs think they're direwolves, and all direwolves think they're lap dogs.

This is the way.

Indiana Jones and the Eye of Odin...

She headbangs them

Love it so far 😊 Would love a part two!

Indiana Jones and the wheel of time

Indiana Jones and the Vault of Glass

Indiana Jones: The Ancient Grilled Cheese.

"After what we found here, Dr. Jones, we think you belong in a museum."

"Very funny."

"Oh, by the way..." Indy heard the cocking of a revolver behind his head.

"Now, we are not young men Jones, I know you have the other piece of the map

in your possession."

"I don't know what your talking about." the muzzle of a gun was punched into the

back of his skull.

"You know what I'm talking about, the path to the tree of life, Dr. Jones!"

Thank you for your submission; it has scored 11 points!

Thank you for your submission; it has scored 9 points!

Broadly speaking? Practice writing as often as you can. I've been writing and editing for long enough that flash fictions are completable within an hour or two.

Specifically on flash fictions, keep in mind that space is somewhat limited. I try to keep my responses on this subreddit under 1000 barring extenuating circumstances. Pick a few simple points on world building and character development, and hint at them if you can. Never detail dump if you can help it.

Hope that helps.

Indiana Jones and the Lost City of the Ancients is a thrilling adventure story set in the deserts of Egypt. Indiana Jones, an archaeologist and professor of ancient history, is tasked with finding a lost city that has been hidden for centuries.
The search leads him to an ancient pyramid, where he discovers clues that point to the location of the lost city. As he pieces together the clues, he finds himself in a race against time as a powerful enemy is also searching for the lost city. Along his journey, he meets allies and adversaries who help or hinder him on his quest.
Eventually, Indiana Jones reaches the entrance to the lost city only to find it guarded by an army of mummies and other creatures from beyond this world. He must use all his skills and courage to survive this dangerous mission and uncover what lies within this mysterious place.
Will Indiana Jones be able to find the lost city before his enemy does? Will he be able to survive this perilous journey?

It's time for me to continue the saga I started with the blood-drainer plot.

Kunsai "Kuro" Kuronosa gave another sigh as he waited...it was always the damn fryer being behind on the amount of fries for the orders. Sure, expediting for a fast-food place wasn't the best work, but the pay was better than most other similar places, and while it had its agrivating days, it was mostly just dull work. At least the customers weren't crowding the send-out counter today.

"Jason! Get over here, you lazybones!" The zen of the place was interrupted as Kuro's boss, Andrew Slate, called out for the person who was needed most at this time...the fry person. The lanky coworker rolled his eyes, and shot Kuro a look....great...he was going to have to finish them and set them himself for the orders, as it was a light staff day, though it was also slow. Jason seemed to grumble something the silver-haired man couldn't quite hear, and stomped off towards the back.

Slate was a raging narcissistic who thought he was bigger potatoes than he was, but running the largest Shake Place in the country helped push his over-inflated ego even further. Jason wasn't a bad coworker, but Kuro guessed it had to do with the teen being 10 minutes late again for the 3rd time this month...

As Jason headed to the boss' office, the air suddenly felt..weird...not too hot, or well, not too much hotter than normal when you work next to heat lamps all day, but not quite unusually cold either...He ignored it as he moved around to the hot-line...He ignored the weird feeling as something started to appear in the center of the dining area. The fries beeped, and he pulled out the basket, shaking off the excess oil, and threw them into the salting zone as a roar suddenly pierced the area and screams rang out from the customers. The man turned around...he did not want to deal with this here with all the customers still around...well...maybe not still around, as most rushed for the door, leaving the place pretty empty.

"ANDREW SLATE! YOUR SOUL IS FORFEIT!" The entity yelled, though not like the fires most thought of, the area went cold instead of hot... Great, another Demon, this time from Cocytus instead of one of the hot sections...

The boss peeked his head out, looking at the Demon, who looked more like a fallen angel then a purely demonic entity...Tall, humanoid, with black wings that looked blue in certain spots in the light, dressed in a blue business suit...at least, he was for now. While Slate was self-important, he was also...a coward. He heard someone yelling at him, and just stayed in his office, locking it shut.

While Kuro didn't like his boss, he less liked the idea of explaining to the mundane authorities what happened to him....especially as the Moonlit world was supposed to remain mostly hidden....it was getting harder to do, with every normal person in the street having easy access to a camera, and most businesses these days having some sort of security system and/or security camera...so it looked like he was going to have to be doing some overtime tonight to make sure that word didn't get out.

"Kuro...what is that?" Ah, right....Catherine, the other hot line worker who could easily see up front. She was, as far as he knew, a Mundane, and couldn't get involved.

"Just get down Cat, and don't worry...also, don't talk to it. I..." He sighed. "I'll go deal with it..." The poor shaking redhead looked at him, and then turned around, disappearing behind the counter...Good. Better that she not get involved...The Demon was still yelling and cursing, calling his boss a coward as the silver-hair man walked around the counters to get to the dining area.

"Calm down demon. Who sent you?"

"Why should I tell dead meat that? You are just in my way."

Kuro's eyes suddenly changed from his normal-looking baby blues, to an eerie golden color, and even when in his normal black shirt and blue jeans, his calm aura and demeanor suddenly became deadly.

"It wasn't a request...it was a command...Now who...sent you?" He gave the being a withering look.

"I will tell you nothing, now get out of-"

"You're not a demon, you're a devil...You're one of Dis' men, aren't you? You managed to find someone stupid enough to fall for your tricks? I'm almost impressed." The Fixer held out his hand, and a longsword with a jeweled hilt appeared in it. "Sorry...but you really should have left well enough alone..."

"Wait...I recognize that sword...how did you...Oh...nonononono... I.." The now identified devil sighed. "You know what I am, and you know that I can't just let a contract go..the boss'll kill me."

"And if you don't tell me who summoned you, and leave right after that, I will do the same...only you'll be permanently dead instead if just being demoted."

The devil hesitated... and then looked over at where Catherine was hiding. "Summoner, you didn't tell me you worked with THIS MAN...."

That...actually made the Fixer blink. "Catherine? Did you summon him?" His voice was questioning, and a little annoyed.

The redhead continued to sit down and ignore what was happening.

Well, I'm out of steam for now...finish it later...

Indiana jones and the tomb of the bejeweled dinosaurs.

>gods mention acts of kindness from El, God of Israel to their peoples.

Such as Joshua 8:24-29 where Israel put an entire city to the sword. Men, women, and children.

Leviticus 25:44-46 (literal slavery)

44 “‘Your male and female slaves are to come from the nations around you; from them you may buy slaves. 45 You may also buy some of the temporary residents living among you and members of their clans born in your country, and they will become your property. 46 You can bequeath them to your children as inherited property and can make them slaves for life, but you must not rule over your fellow Israelites ruthlessly.

Joshua 6:20-21, Israel putting Jericho to the sword. Every living being except one extended family.

Numbers 31: 15 “Have you allowed all the women to live?” he asked them. 16 “They were the ones who followed Balaam’s advice and enticed the Israelites to be unfaithful to the Lord in the Peor incident, so that a plague struck the Lord’s people. 17 Now kill all the boys. And kill every woman who has slept with a man, 18 but save for yourselves every girl who has never slept with a man.

32 The plunder remaining from the spoils that the soldiers took was 675,000 sheep, 33 72,000 cattle, 34 61,000 donkeys 35 and 32,000 women who had never slept with a man.

Vengence on the midianites.

The other sumerian/middle eastern gods should be hosting a war crime summit, not mention acts of kindness. In fact, why do the other gods inexplicably start showing respect? This seems very out of character.

Why does Baal come to El's defense? Hell bible wise, Yahweh/Elohim/El do not like him and orders his followers to strike down the temples of other gods. Specifically his.

Speaking of El, according to what information I can find, it does not specifically refer to the God of Israel, but seems to be a title given to the supreme deity of a given pantheon. Or a major deity in general.