Flash Fiction
J.A. Waters
300 Words
Others of the warrior’s ilk were filling the room around me, burly men and women wearing pelts and bits of iron as jewelry. They ducked carefully to step downstairs onto the ship’s lower deck, “We are honored by your presence.”
Arranged in a semicircle they passed around horns of drink and baskets of bread. These were shared with reverent bows in my direction. They repeated one phrase: ”The key to our salvation.”
None approached me and I soon grew bored out of my fear, “Might I have something to eat?”
“Sacrament,” said the first, the leader, the one that yanked me from the city, “Fulfillment of the pact requires clarity.”
“What pact?” I stood warily, unsteady because of rolling of waves, “If I’m so special then tell me something!”
“You are the key…”
“…to our salvation,” I finished, “Yeah, I got that. Ridiculous.”
Deep pulsing sounds reverberated through the vessel.
Two of the savages grabbed my upper arms and yanked me out of the room in a hurried rush. Their faces were tight, jaws clenched.
All around us the sky was dancing with streaming light. Electricity crackled as my captors lifted me to the sky, “The key!”
A great sonorous wail shook the very fabric of the world. I felt my mind twist.
“Liar! LIAR!” The leader stared at me with horror, “You claimed yourself sterile!”
Thin sheets of energy surrounded my skin. The ship, along with all of its sailors, disintegrated in screams. Bright purple light engulfed everything.
A breeze whispered fading words, “Liar…”
I bobbed in the swell of a sea I did not know under an alien sky. Ignorance wasn’t a lie, but I felt terrible for my unknowing betrayal. I had been their key alright, but not for salvation. Nor mine. I couldn’t tread water forever.