The Institute For Fallen Herbivours

Friday Fictioneers is craftily braised by the creative talents of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. A 100 words of fiction based around the photo prompt provided. Follow the link and join in the cook off.


Photo Copyright : Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Dr Kale’s hand gripped her shirt. The buttons ripping clean off, shattering on the floor.

The door was locked from the inside, frosted glass blocking the view. On the other side, voices faint and disjointed. Frantic hammering on the door echoed across the walls.

They were coming. Coming to get her out.

Her strength was sapping, laboured breathing tightening her chest.

His body slumped forward,  then slid towards the floor. Tiny shards of buttons, glistened like diamonds in the river of blood seeping beneath the door.

Trailing her tongue across the dripping knife, she smiled.

“Mmmm, I think it’s beef for dinner”

16 thoughts on “The Institute For Fallen Herbivours

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