The Last Sunrise

Evelyn looked into the sky, closed her eyes and saw the vast emptiness turning brilliant shades of red, yellow, and orange as the sun rose over the mountain top. She felt the warmth of the rays burn off the morning chill and fog, waking the Earth and its creatures. Soon the air would be filled with songbirds welcoming a new day.

She took a deep breath and pulled her wool shawl tighter around her. Time was limited. They said it would only be a day or two longer. If only she would have known. She would have taken a picture of the last sunrise.


The Following

The man slammed his hands on the table, making the keyboard rattle. “Dammit!”

Sylvia looked up from her table and watched for a moment. Maybe there’s something wrong with his computer, she thought. As a senior at Cal Tech, she felt it was her duty to offer assistance, so she walked over there. “Computer problems?”

He looked up at her with piercing black eyes that took her breath away. “Yeah, guess you could say that. Lost another one.”

She scooted a chair over and sat down close to him so she could see his screen. He must have been camping recently because he still smelled liked wood smoke. “Lost what?”

“A follower,” he said, pointing to his blog numbers.

“Oh,” she giggled. “Well, that will happen sometimes.” She jumped up and grabbed her laptop, then sat back down next to him. She looked at the blog’s address and typed it in, then hit follow. “There, now you just gained one.”

She smiled and tried to catch her breath that seemed to disappear every time he looked at her.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling.

“Sure. Um, –”

Her phone rang and interrupted her. Ten minutes late for her lecture. She jumped up and dashed out the door.

As she left another man joined the table. Both men’s heads turned and followed her up the street until they could no longer see her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“I am,” the man said, looking at his blog.

“On what?”

“Meeting my quota. It’s so easy to get followers nowadays.”

Beezlebub looked at Legion’s blog and raised his eye brows. “Maybe I should make a blog.”

Never Gave Up Hope

“Bye, Jordan,” the young man said as his son hopped on the bus for his first day of preschool. The young man walked back down the gravel road to their home to wait until three o’clock.


An old, worn man walks down the gravel road and stands on the side of the asphalt every day at three o’clock waiting and looking for a bus that never comes.

The Banquet

Mr. Peacock walked through the banquet room with the Hotel Cortez head chef, Jeffery, to ensure that everything was perfect. They needed tonight to be the best experience the hotel could offer if they were to attract the ILM back to their hotel next year.

“I’m telling you, we have everything under control,” Jeffery said. He watched Mr. Peacock fumble with his clipboard and guest list.

“I just don’t see how you –”

“Geeze man, take a breath. I told you, I’m used to this sort of thing. I’ve got it all handled.”

“But, but…HOW! Look at these guests! You can’t –”

Jeffery sighed and grabbed the clipboard away from Mr. Peacock. “Follow me.”

They walked across the banquet room to a large tank filled with salt water. “Jaws. Two buckets chum and a few innards left over from preparation. Since he’s the only aquatic guest tonight, we’ve put the two animal tables near him. Since they don’t speak human, maybe they speak shark.”

Mr. Peacock nodded. That made since to him. “But what about meals for those tables? Do we have –”

“Good grief, you think I can’t make a menu?” Jeffery sighed. It was going to be a long night. “Table one will host the giant ants, Sasquatch, the Blob, and the Hobgoblin. Their meals will be sweetbreads, wine, sugar donut holes with gold trim, and assorted eggs. Table two will host all the critters and gremlins. Since they choose to act like children, I created a children’s menu of chicken and human fingers with several dipping sauces to choose from, blood pudding, and blood orange smoothies. We will use the window washer’s platform to hoist fruits up to King Kong on the roof.”

Mr. Peacock nodded and started looking more relived. This was the biggest night in his managerial career. Everything had to be perfect. “What about the next two tables?”

“Well, let’s go back across the room to tables three and four first, then I will tell you all about the long table of honor.”

Thirty minutes before the guests arrived and Mr. Peacock was getting more nervous. This final walk through was taking much longer than he expected.

“This is our, um, less popular table, if you will. I received many requests from people who did not want to end up next to anyone at this table, so we just threw them all together here and hope that will make everyone else happy. So, you have Regan, Ghostface, Pumpkinhead, and the self-declared cannibal who requested his meat medium-well. You will note that the wall behind the table has been prepped for Regan, should she wish to spray vomit all over the place like she did at last year’s convention.”

Mr. Peacock’s face went green just thinking about that. “What about their meal though?”

Again? Fine. “This table will be served steak and eggs, caviar, and devil’s food cake. They have a choice of a wide variety of smoothies or fruit juice, to which we can add any flavor they like.”

Mr. Peacock seemed pleased with this table’s selections and moved toward the next table.

“At table four, we Dr. Jekyll, Zombie, Werewolf, and Leatherface. Now at this table we are serving steak two-ways, hot and cold soup, sweet and sour pork, and iced coffee. Moving on.”

He wasn’t going to allow Mr. Peacock to drag this out any longer than necessary. Besides, time was running short and he still had to prepare the main course.

“The head table will seat Count Dracula, Warlock, Frankenstein, and Dr. Lecter. Frank informed us he no longer eats, nor does the ghost, so they will be playing cards down at that end. The Grim Reaper and the Warlock have brought in their own chef and will be served at that end of the table. Count Dracula and Dr. Lecter will share the head of the table this year. I am sure everyone will be pleased with my service.”

“Good, good,” Mr. Peacock muttered, taking his clipboard back from the chef. Guests started shuffling in and panic rose from Mr. Peacock as he realized Jeffery never told him what the menu was for the guests of honor. “What about –”

Mr. Peacock dropped dead on the floor as the Grim Reaper touched his shoulder. Jeffery smiled and nodded to Count Dracula. Together they laid Mr. Peacock on the long table in front of Dr. Lecter and the Count’s seats.

“Enjoy your stay at the Hotel Cortez,” Jeffery said, nodding.

“I’m sure we will, thank you.” Count Dracula led a round of applause as the chef returned to the kitchen.

This was written for the M.M.H.B Challenge.