Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Sandi’s Challenge 3-7-2018


End The Story Challenge – Sandi at Humble, but Humorous, issued a challenge to all who participate in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt:

Sandi’s Story Challenge

…ANYONE WANT TO FINISH THE STORY?  I’d love someone to copy and paste what I started and come up with their own ending.  I purposely wrote it so it could go in any direction.  Fun, happy, creepy, nightmarish.  Political?  Just link to this post so I know!


The Choice

by Sandi

“Are you in. or are you out?”

Immediately, I flashed back to accepting my invitation to the mill. There were six of us who had set up sleeping bags on the outer, upper balcony. About 15 minutes after arriving, the hosts had bid us good night…and we were on our own.

For the first hour, we got to know one another. At some point, I had to use the rest room, and to my dismay…discovered I had to walk a distance to a porta-potty. When I returned, no one was at the mill.

“Hello?” I had called out. Silence. “Okay, guys, you got me. Where is everyone?”

A scream echoed over the hill and behind the trees. As I pushed back branches and past bushes, I made my way toward the sound.  Probably just initiation. Nothing prepared me for what laid beyond the clearing.

I blinked my eyes, our host had returned  and was snapping fingers in front of me…
“I’ll ask you again…are you in or are you out?”

My ending……

 “Of.. what?” I stumbled, blinking against the bright light of his flashlight.

“Paintball,” he said, looking at me as if I was crazed. “We talked about this at the farm. Sam and I would attack your base at a random time. Whichever team was killed had to do all the chores tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I blinked again, details starting to filter back into my mind.

He started to chuckle. “You thought they were dead?”

“Well…. Yeah,” I said, blinking again. “I mean Sue and John were just lying there, covered in blood….”

“Red paint,” he corrected. “Just paint.”

He paused, asked again. “So, are you in or out?”

I struggled to sit up. Paintball. I remembered now. “In, in, I guess.” Paused. “So, is it over?”

With a wide grin, he stepped back, aimed his gun at me and pulled the trigger. Red paint smacked me in the chest, bowling me to the ground. I screamed.

“It is now.”

Thanks, Sandi, for the fun challenge!



Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s