Ever feel like you have this major block, stopping you from any form of creativity? Well! They've got an app for that! I wanted to get back into writing, so I looked for writing prompt apps. I figured, if I keep at it, eventually I'll be mediocre as an author. The prompt app that I am currently trying to use is called Flash Fiction Prompter. It gives you a character, a setting, and a plot. My first 'cards' were....
Character: High-Class Escort
Setting: Church
Plot: A character gets a life-changing phone call
The reason why I already like this app is because it reminds me of when I used to do Improv for high school speech team. They give you the skeleton and you put all the fleshy stuff to it. I could go for the very easy way out on this story. The high-class escort gets a call from a cancer-ridden parent, leads them back to church. Basically a Nicholas Sparks' novel. Or I could go for a priest gets a life-changing phone call from God that tells him he must have sex with this high-class escort to birth Jesus! The possibilities are endless! But, in order to reach any of these possibilities, we have to start. So, here goes my first of many terrible attempts to write better.
*Rrrrring Rrrrring*"Hello?!" Marta couldn't help but sound agitated having been woken up after only 2 hours of sleep. "Well? Get on with it! I haven't got all day to listen to someone heavily breathe my sleep away!"
A voice she hadn't thought to hear for years echoed along the phone line. "Is this.....am I speaking to Marta Corsikovy?"
The accented way he spoke her last name washed memories of warm food and family over her. It twisted like a knife in her heart. "Who's asking," she growled quietly.
"It is I, Markus. There is a problem with your mother's health and she requested me to find you."
Her voice broke on a sob. "Markus. What is wrong with my mama?"
"It is her heart, it is not beating well. She fears she will not make it much longer. She wishes for you to come back home, so that she may see you one last time."
Something seemed wrong. "Why didn't mama call me herself?"
He started to stammer out a response when *BANG!!* A voice slithered over her skin. "I knew you were too smart little girl."
It was Anton. How could she be so naive as to think that he would have forgotten about her? He was a possessive and vile man who was never one to let his 'objects' go.
"Anton..." Her heart sank and her stomach cramped as she remembered every detailed moment of pain that was her unfortunate relationship with Anton.
In Russia, Anton was what you might call a mob-boss. But, should you ever cross his path, you would call him a psychotic sociopath....but never to his face, if you cared to keep your insides on the inside. Marta met Anton when she was young and reckless. She had started a job as a high-class escort for the freedom(and to rile up her mother's disapproval). It gave her a glimpse at the rich and famous that she had only glimpsed in magazines. She had just started being an escort by being a pretty thing for older-men to attach to their arms. She had yet to have sex with any of the men, she was just a good girl playing the part. That is until she met Anton. His eyes so blue, like the hottest flame, consumed her whole life. Until the day he first hit her. It snapped her back to reality. She saw him, not as the young, energetic sex-god she first met; but as the cold, heartless murderer who had only a cold, hate-lust. He no longer used sweetness to hold sway of her, he used harsh words and brutal fists. The first time she was put into a hospital was the last time he had seen her. Her mother had used her all of her father's inheritance to send her to America. They thought she was safe there. Today she found out how very wrong they were.
"Did you kill Markus?"
"Why would I kill my play-thing Marta?" The way he curled the 'r' in her name caused her spine to tense in a blinding pain. She knew that meant pain. For her, for Markus, for anyone who had helped her escape. She strained her hearing, crushing the phone as close to her ear as she could get. There! A slight whimpering sound. Markus was alive. Which meant Anton still needed him to control her. Anton didn't have her mother!
Markus was the man who got her to America. A friend of a cousin's uncle. Some obscure connection. But, when they first met, it was friendship like none she had ever felt before. He gave her a smile that warmed her from the inside. He was kind to her, when her face had brought out only grimaces of pain. He promised to protect her mother and his eyes twinkled with a pinky-promise. He was an angel amidst the hell she had just endured. His modest appearance was a Michelangelo compared to Anton's smudged and rotted paint-by-numbers. He was all that was good. And he was in the hands of Anton, wounded and alone. She had a debt to him, an obligation. She had to protect him. She had to finally stand up to Anton.
"Anton. What is it that you want from me?" Her voice only hitched a little.
"Ohhh, how I've missed hearing your voice around my name." He was devilishly good at turning the slightest phrase and making it ooze with villainous intent. "Have you missed me?"
She stayed silent.
"Ouch. That hurts me deep to my core. Maybe I should take my pain out on Markus?" She hears a squish right before a scream that rips out of Markus' voice. He struggled to hold it in, but it just makes it worse.
"YES! Yes! I've missed you!" The answer is torn from her. She couldn't just sit there and listen to her friend be hurt. "Please, please.....just stop." She sounded defeated, but a fire of hate built inside of her. She was going to end Anton, and she was going to end him tonight.
"Good girl." He spoke as though he were pleased with a dog fetching the morning paper. "Now, how about we meet face to face. I've missed you so very much."
"Where?" Her questions were simple and to the point. If she used more words, he'd hear her plans weaving his death in place.
"Well, it may surprise you, but I'm actually in America. Such a lovely state, this New Jersey."
Panic set in. He was too close, her heart pounded and her eyes blurred. No. She wouldn't let him control her, not anymore. A plan set into motion. "Have you seen any of the lovely churches?" Anton was a cruel hypocrite. He found such joy in going to mass in the cathedral, reveled in whispering his dark secrets, his confessions tainting these once joyous priests. He loved defiling the pure and holy. She knew he would never say no.
"Ahh, you know me so well mi amor. Are there any near where you live?"
She thought quickly, the best church would be the one where the gangs used as a drug-stache. There would help from friends she had made, backup or at least weapons. And, Anton, being a foreign mob boss, would raise enough hackles to ensure his death. "The Saint Patrick's Cathedral is quite lovely. They have some of the best stained glass on this coast. It's a very gothic styling."
"Yes, that sounds perfect. How about we meet in, say, an hour. Don't forget to dress appropriately for me."
"Oh, I will dress to perfection."
The church seemed deserted, but for a few burning candles lit by mothers praying for their lost children. Marta was dressed all in red. She didn't want Anton to suspect anymore then he probably did. Though the undersheath was barely long enough to be called a dress, the over-laying lace flowed quite nicely and hid the gun at her thigh and the large knife running along her back. She was ready. Her friends were outside waiting to circle in once Anton was spotted. The leader of the gang, and best shot, was high in the rafters. He would shoot the men holding Markus and would make sure no one got near him. Father Jacobs, the man who was the American who helped Markus transport her here was no where to be seen. He was good at hiding. When the time came, she knew he would snatch Markus. All that would be left was Anton. And she was the one who must finish him.
"Knock. Knock. Honey, I'm home." The impact of his voice and that smile almost knocked Marta backwards. It was a punch straight to the gut. Pure horror. But then she saw Markus. Broken and bruised, she could still see his light shine through. He even managed a smile, though it cracked his lip open again. His bloody and beaten face was the most beautiful thing ever. And if they made it through, she would let him know it everyday for the rest of their lives.
"Hello Anton." He was taken aback by her cool demeanor. Her eyes shaded with disinterest. If she didn't know him better, she'd think he started to look nervous.
He settled his reptilian menace back. "Darling, you look pale. Shall we put some colors back to your face?"
"Oh, but pale goes so well with my outfit. Though you could do well with some red on you." A droplet of sweat trailed down his face. He was scared of her! "What? You don't know how to handle a strong woman? Have you gone....limp?" She felt empowered by his sign of weakness.
He snarled, "Bring her to me, so that I may teach her a woman's true place!" His guards stepped forward and a soft hiss went through the air. Once. Twice. The look of surprise stayed on their faces as they collapsed to the ground. Lifeless. Anton looked quickly about him, and started to panic. His men were dead and he was alone. Markus had faded into the darkness. Anton became red with rage. His fists curled till they were purple and he pointed spitting violently. "WOMAN! IF YOU HAD JUST STAYED IN YOUR PLACE!" He stepped towards me jerkily. His body so filled with rage he could barely bend his knees. "I'll slice your throat and have my way with you till the life fades from your eyes."
As he stomped towards me, I finally saw him for what he truly was. A rabid animal. And the best way to deal with those is to put them down. "May God have mercy on your soul, for I will not." She took out the gun and shot both of his kneecaps in rapid succession. As he slumped on the ground holding himself, he started whimpering his pleas.
"No, Marta, you can't. We used to be so happy. I just wanted you to be with me forever. Please, don't do this. You'll regret this you stupid bitch! You were meant to be mine. MINE!"
He became quiet as a quickly slid my knife towards his throat. As he swallowed, his adam's apple danced along the knicking point. A small drop of blood squeezed out.
"You're not man enough to keep me, you psychotic piece of shit." With one swift move, she slit his throat, releasing not only his blood, but every horrible memory he had entangled in her. She finally felt free. She ran to the corner where she had last seen Markus. With a hiss of cloth, there he was, being bandaged by Father Jacobs. He pushed him away and started to try and stand, but was immediately thrown back by the weight and kisses of Marta. She was finally free and able to go home. And Markus was exactly what she needed.
