A Diamond Among The Rough: A Free Flash Fiction (Science Fiction) - Lore Publication
A Diamond Among The Rough: A Free Flash Fiction (Science Fiction)
Welcome to Lore Publication, a place to find free short stories and free flash fictions for all your reading needs! We publish horror, science fiction, fantasy, thriller and mystery themed stories and invite you to join us and support our writers. We pride ourselves on bringing you thought provoking fiction at no cost at all; free reading for the avid bookworm.We realize that not everybody can afford new ebooks and free ebooks are a way of combating this problem. Our free stories are no different! Today we are publishing A Diamond Among The Rough, an urban science fantasy fiction story! This story was origianlly submitted to Lore Publication for our launch competition and was selected as the Grand Winner from all the entries. With the launch of Lore Publication on blogger, it is now free to read right here as it was on Medium! With all that said, enjoy! 😄
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| Image credit: George Hodan |
‘It was going to be another one of those nights,’ I thought as my car hovered around the
corner. The flashing blue lights on it strobed against the sheets of
rain. Despite the darkness, the city below was lit up in a neon haze
that shed the gloom like a prostitute shed a stained dress. The call
over the radio had been a routine one, something the police on the beat
could have handled with ease were there not a body. This made the third
tonight. Probably an overdose, or maybe some domestic bullshit. There
were plenty of mysteries to be discovered on a night shift, but the most
taxing of all was where I was going to find my next cup of java.
The
question sat upon the crest of my mind as I set the car to the ground
in front of the Twin Gates Hotel. The place was remarkably seedy in a
region of the city not known for much else. The usual riffraff
frequented the place; from addicts and pushers to hookers and pimps.
That wasn’t unusual for this part of town, but the Twin Gates? The Twin
Gates possessed a gnarly reputation for its bustling client list.
I
pulled my coat tight as I stepped from my car. The rain buffeted me
like the beatings my ex wife used to give. I reached into my pocket,
pulling a cigarette from the slim packet that resided there. Lighting
it, I walked through the front doors and into the main lobby. Smoke
curled lazily under the wide brim of my hat before escaping on its
journey to the stained ceiling. Hanse, a German-born immigrant, was
behind the counter as per the norm. He was unusually quiet tonight,
instead of spouting his tales about escaping the collapse of the
European Union. The loose-lipped immigrant was far from innocent, but
his cooperation kept him friendly with the department.
“Guten
Tag,” he said as I strode to his desk. His suit was strikingly out of
place when compared to the surroundings, as were his perfectly quaffed
blonde locks. Were he not running the place, he most certainly would
have passed for a pleasure drone; his perfectly smooth looking skin
complementing his youth. He may even have the capacity to make more of a
life for himself in that line of work, if he were not picky about male
clients.
“So what’s the story Hanse?”
“Oh, just more of the same. Some poor mädchen took a knife for her troubles. Turns out you might actually have a case this time,” he replied.
“Wonderful,” I said sarcastically, “where is it?”
“The other officers are upstairs. Room 913.”
‘Great,’
I thought. Just what I needed. Anybody with a sense of the
superstitious knew thirteen was always a bad sign. Unlike most hotels,
The Twins even had a thirteenth floor; most places left the number out.
Perhaps whoever owned the place wasn’t all that superstitious. Hanse
never did use it, at least not for guests. As far as I knew the only
thing up there was storage. Anything beyond that, I was better off not
knowing.
It
didn’t take the elevator long to screech down the metallic shaft to the
ground floor. Stepping into the elevator, I took several long draws of
the cigarette dangling out the corner of my mouth as it rose. The
elevator chimed as the doors opened onto the ninth floor. Flicking the
cigarette to the ground to smolder with its countless cousins, I stepped
into a packed hallway.
It
took me some time to navigate through the various hotel guests who had
flocked to see what was going on. There were a few cops holding back the
throng. The neon purple strip lights that lined the ceiling’s skirting
flickered, lending the illusion of unnatural movement from that of the
wavering crowd. It did not take me long to find Jones, a Sergeant that
was reputable among the force for being a tough old bastard.
“What do we have?” It took Jones a moment to recognize me in the press of the crowd. We had worked together before,
“Typical poke and stab. Looks like her client didn’t want to pay her bill, so he gave her some new holes to work with,” he said. I
gave a slight nod as he guided me into the room. The victim was lying
sprawled across the bed with blood flowing across the satin sheets like
an angel’s wings. Her naked flesh was almost perfect were the knife had
not penetrated it. Her long hair had an orange dye job and her whole
aesthetic matched the neon-themed glow of it. She must have been quite
the earner before somebody had taken a disliking to her.
“It’s
a shame, huh?” It was Jones speaking from my rear. Ignoring him, I bent
over the body to get a closer look. It was evident that she had been
stabbed more times than was necessary.
“Whoever
did this Sergeant, wanted her dead. This wasn’t about money, it was a
crime of passion. It also looks like the perp knew her.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because
there was no sign of a struggle,” I pointed to the window frame, “The
window is sealed,” I then turned to the door, “and the only way in or
out is the front door, and the lock isn’t broken.” I straightened up,
addressing Jones again, “She knew whoever it was that killed her, and he
was finished before she could even get off her back.” Jones walked forward to stand by my side,
“Perhaps one of her regulars that got a bit too attached?”
“Looks
like it. Check her accounts, get the details on her payees and start
there,” I said, turning for the door. I took one last look back at the
body sprawled across the bed. She could have had a better life, but now
she was out of time. Dames for hire in this town were a dime a dozen,
but this one had been a diamond among the rough.
Writer Information - Before You Go!
This
wonderful edition of flash fiction was selected as the Science Fiction
Category Winner in Lore Fiction’s 2018 Launch Writing Contest! It was written by American science fiction writer B.K. Bass.
B.K. Bass is an author of science fiction, fantasy, and horror inspired by the pulp fiction magazines of the early 20th century and classic speculative fiction. He is a student of history with a particular focus on the ancient, classical, and medieval eras. He has a lifetime of experience with a specialization in business management and human relations and served in the U.S. Army. B.K. is also the Acquisitions Director for Kyanite Publishing and the Editor-in-Chief of the Kyanite Press journal of speculative fiction. Be sure to check out B.K. Bass on his Twitter page here and support his work! You can also find his website here and Kyanite Publishing's website here.
B.K. Bass is an author of science fiction, fantasy, and horror inspired by the pulp fiction magazines of the early 20th century and classic speculative fiction. He is a student of history with a particular focus on the ancient, classical, and medieval eras. He has a lifetime of experience with a specialization in business management and human relations and served in the U.S. Army. B.K. is also the Acquisitions Director for Kyanite Publishing and the Editor-in-Chief of the Kyanite Press journal of speculative fiction. Be sure to check out B.K. Bass on his Twitter page here and support his work! You can also find his website here and Kyanite Publishing's website here.