55 Flash Fiction Friday

Dis-figured

Skin raw from searing heat. Immobile, fearful, at her mercy. Cruel deft hands, focused, dispassionate, enjoying. Cold metal followed molten hotness.

"Ok, all done." Casually, as though normal for me, she reached behind then held a mirror to my face.

I had to admit, apart from a bright red forehead, my eyebrows looked pretty neat.

Place Order Here

Orders were slow in coming.

One customer grunted: "Fast food?" pointing disdainfully at a skinny piece of rump. The Server grabbed it by the hair and swung the bloody axe; the human girl's scream joined others as she fell, dismembered, from the hook.

The fire flared impatiently, anticipating the flesh to make its being worthwhile.

Waiting

He slams down the mobile phone; the table shudders.
He yells: "Taking the piss!"
He mutters: "Sort the car ..sort the route ...stay ...no thanks, never any thanks ..."
He stares at the cowering figures of the bank manager's wife and daughter.
He frowns at his gloved hands: musn't leave traces.
"Maybe I'll sort them too."