Category: T for Teen

Retirement

The pistol kicked in Mac’s hand, sending a blast of pain up her injured arm. Her shoulder jerked, sending the shot wide. She clenched her teeth and set the weapon down. Someone grabbed her elbow, and she spun with a right hook to see her partner dodge the blow with room to spare. Mac whipped off her shooting ear muffs and threw them smack in the center of his chest.

“What the hell, Preacher?”

“Just checking your reflexes.” He tossed the muffs back and eyed her scarred arm. “Improvement?”

Mac grunted.

“Still doing your physical therapy?”

She grunted again glared.

“It takes time –”

“It’s been *three months*, and I still can’t control my weapon.” She pulled off her shooting goggles. “You know I won’t be passing a shooting test any time soon.”

“Mac –”

“I can’t hunt for kids if I can’t shoot, Preacher. We’re a rescue team, and I’m a danger to the victims.” She met his eyes. “They’re going to stick me behind a desk. You know I won’t survive it, and no one but you wants to work with me, anyway.”

“It’s your winning personality,” he grinned. “What are you gonna do? I can see retirement all over your face.”

“Open a bed and breakfast?”

“People expect you to smile when you run those.”

“So that’s out. Garbage collection?”

“Rodents.”

Mac shuddered. “Does anyone pay people to be grumpy old hermits?”

Preacher shouldered her bag. “I hear it’s a strictly volunteer gig.”

“Well, shit. There goes my future.”

Submitted for Thursday Threads, 289 – Weird, Wild, and Wicked.
Required Phrase: “I’m a danger.”

Werewolf and Demon Hunter: A Lust Story

They faced each other in the hallway, each with their back against the opposing wall.

“All I need is your ‘yes’, Ashe, but not if you aren’t completely sure,” Kami said. She inhaled slowly. Dirt. River water. Sweat. Summer heat. The tiniest hint of gunpowder. And under it all, the scent of Ashe’s arousal. Ashe had been hunting tonight.

Ashe said nothing. Kami nodded once, resigned, then pushed herself off the wall and turned to the door.

“Wait!”

Kami’s pulse jumped. She waited.

“I’m nervous, Kami.”

“Ashe the demon hunter? Nervous?” She faced Ashe again.

“I’ve never been with — “

“A werewolf?”

“A *woman*. You think I give a rat’s ass that you’re a werewolf?”

“You just give a rat’s ass that I’m a woman. Is your attraction so hard for you to believe?”

“No! I’m just,” Ashe paused, “afraid to do it wrong.”

“Wrong?” Kami raised her eyebrows.

“Stop it. I wanted to be ready, to know what I was doing, so I did some … research.”

“No way.” Kami stifled a laugh. “Have you been watching lesbian porn?”

“Maybe. And then there were all the other things I found on the internet.” There was that uncharacteristic blush again. Utterly adorable.

In two steps, Kamie closed the distance between them and pressed her hands to the wall on either side of Ashe’s shoulders. “I’m a far better teacher than the internet. All I need is your yes, Ashe.”

Ashe grabbed Kami’s belt loops and tugged her closer. “Hell, yes.”

Submitted for Thursday Threads, 284 – Weird, Wild, and Wicked.
Required Phrase: “Other things I found on the internet.”
Place: First – View Here

Well, Hell

“You kept him in the basement for a week. And?”

“He never talked. He didn’t even clear his throat.”

“You didn’t feed him, did you?”

“No.”

“Water him?”

“No.”

A pause.

“Is his body still in the basement?”

“He’s still in the basement, but he’s not dead.”

“What do you mean he’s not dead? You said he’s had no fluids.”

Another pause.

“I’m thinking maybe he’s not human.”

“Not human. I’m thinking maybe you’ve spent too long in the basement yourself.”

“No, you’ve got to listen to me. He never went to the bathroom, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean not even on day one. I never offered to take him, he never asked to go, and he never wet himself. He just sat there, tied to a chair, not talking, not moving, not eating, not drinking, not pissing, and not dying.”

Another pause. A longer one.

“So what do you suggest?”

“We need a different approach for something that’s not human.”

“Which is?”

“Lock him up and ditch the key.”

“In that case, why not just kill him?”

“I tried. I know I didn’t have permission, but it I couldn’t reach you.”

“You tried.”

“Stabbing. Shooting. Smothering. Strangling.”

A hesitation.

“Go on.”

“Sunlight. Silver. A bible. Holy water. Other things I found on the internet. I got a little desperate.”

“And he’s still alive.”

“Yep.”

A nod.

“Lock him up. Bring me the key. Hope to the gods he never gets out.”

Submitted for Thursday Threads, 283 – Weird, Wild, and Wicked.
Required Phrase: “And he never talked.”
Placed: First – View Here

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