Flash Fiction Fridays: Waxed Wings

Each Friday, I will blindly pick a picture card from the board gameMysterium, and set a timer for fifteen minutes. When the timer goes off, the story is done.




Ashtor laid back on the couch. The leather felt sticky on the backs of his legs and the noise it made seemed to rattle around in his head. He didn't like the stretching sound of the material. It reminded him of a nightmare he once had.

"Ashtor, you should start to feel the affects of the medication taking place. Just don't fight it. Let it sweep over you like a wave and let it take you under. You are safe. To come back, remember to tap on your wrist three times. Do you understand?"

He searched his mind to try and focus on the voice of Dr. Emmerstein, but he had a hard time clearing away the fog that seemed to not only cloud his vision, but his mind as well.

The last thing he heard before the clouds completely took over was the voice saying, "Don't forget why you are going there in the first place. Don't disappoint us again."

The clouds took over completly. All he could see was fog. Ashtor put his hands out in front of himself and slowly shuffled his feet. They felt very heavy, as if the ground was fighting against him.

Suddenly, his hands hit something hard and gritty to the touch. His fingers carefully caressed the surface. It felt like he was touching rock, maybe even standstone. But, it didn't quite feel as organic, it was too uniform.

Keeping his hand on the wall, Ashtor turned around and could finally see clearly. The fog had departed. He was standing in the middle of the dessert and was touching a wall to what looked like an ancient city. On the wall were round wheels that were connected by differnet colored ropes. He couldn't help but wonder if pulling one of the ropes would operate the wheel.

He didn't have a chance to check out his theory because he felt something crawling over his boot. He looked down and had to fight the urge to not jump back. Resting on the top of his foot was a brown scorpion with bright blue streaks. Ashtor held his breath and quickly picked up his foot and shook it away from himself. The scorpion went flying and disappeared into the haziness of the dessert.

"Serves you right," said Ashtor under his breath.

He looked up for a way of getting into the walled city. That's when he saw it. Blue and gray feathers sticking out over the top of the citadel. Ashtor thought he had problems with the scorpion, but nothing would compaire to what would happen to him if one of these creatres caught him.

He looked for a way to escape. He had to get out of there before the guard saw him. Ashtor looked to his left and saw an archway that lead into the city. He didn't have a lot of time to think about it because he heard a noise coming up behind him. It was a sound like something walking through the sand.

He looked to his right and saw two large poles emerging around the corner of the wall. He knew all to well who they belonged to. He flattneed his back against the wall to try and hide in the minimal shaddows the dessert provided. He quickly and quietly crept toward the archway.

Ashtor knew he shouldn't have done it, but he couldn't help himself. He had to see it. He turned to his right and realized his greatest fears had become a reality.

On top of the tall poles was what could best be described as a man with the head of a bird and large feathered wings. It locked its peiercing black eyes on to Ashtor. He tried to look a way but it was impossible now. Ashtor knew this because he had been here before.

"You barely got out alive last time you tried to invade the Temple of the Guardians," said the voice of the creature that was inside Ashtor's head. "We know why you are here, and now you must offer your suffering."

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