Red For Oscar
My second entry to the Cracked Flash Fiction Competition was a story called Red for Oscar. The challenge was similar to the same time but without any pictures! I had up to 300 words to write a story with the opening line
How many times do I have to get shot before you’re happy?
The difference between this entry and my first entry Campfire Stories is that I won. You can read the winning entry below the break!
Red for Oscar
“How many times do I have to be shot before you’re happy?” I rubbed the dull pain out of my chest. The same description could be used to describe our movie set: a soon to be ruined drinks reception made out of papier-mâché and sugar glass.
“Until the director is happy,” Janet laughs as she fixes up a new bullet wound pack, a small block of explosive surrounded by fake blood.
“But megaphone-woman is never happy.” I take off my red ruined shirt.
“And neither are you Michael.” Janet handed me a new white shirt, blood pack loaded. “Just think of the Oscar.”
That is never a problem. I’m always thinking of Oscar these days, her Oscar. All his muscles and fun. I wonder if she knows? This is a hell of a risk if she does. She clicks the final wire into place and her thumb shots into the air.
“Positions people.” Today’s God orders us through her megaphone. Physically I’m in place. Mentally I’m a step behind. I can’t shift Oscar from my head.
The pain punches me backwards and crack through a table. Red floods my shirt, more than was in the pack. The pain won’t stop. Janet is over me now, down on her knees. Her hand slips between the tear of my shirt. Pain, new pain, rips me in two. I think I scream. All my senses are screaming. Above me Janet rubs red between her thumb and forefinger. My red, real red. “Now I’m happy.”