It’s time for this week’s Song Title Challenge.

Write a short piece of fiction, around 300 words, using the song title as your story title but don’t listen to the song.  You can pick your own genre or use the one suggested to me.  Remember to link back to this post so I can find yours.

If you would like to suggest a song title for a future post, you can do so from the challenge page.  You can also leave a suggestion on the Facebook page.

This week’s song is Marijuana by Brujeria and the genre is Horror/Thriller.  Thanks to bumblepuppies for the suggestion.

Marijuana

Hernando scrambled backwards over the floor until his back hit the wall.  The spectre was slowly approaching.  He recited Psalm 23 in a high-pitched voice.

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want…”

Still it came closer.

“…Even if I go through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…”

He closed his eyes.

It had been a routine business meeting.  Hernando met the client outside and escorted him and his bodyguards to the underground plantation.  The client was impressed with the setup, and said so.  He wanted twenty kilos a week for distribution in Miami.  Could Hernando deliver?

They shook on it and Hernando suggested they sample some of the product to celebrate.  The client said he did not usually partake, but under the circumstances…  He even invited his heavies to join them.

They were on their way to the stairs when they heard a noise behind them.  They turned to see one of the henchmen fall to the ground, throat slit and bloody knife still in his hand.  There was a shimmer in the air and his colleague grabbed a bottle of pesticide from the nearest shelf.  He downed it and fell on the floor, his body already convulsing.

The client knocked Hernando down and thrust a gun in his face.  Who was Hernando working for?  Did he really think this would work?

Hernando saw the air around him shimmer.  The client slowly turned the gun and put it in his own mouth.  He pulled the trigger, but not before Hernando saw the fear in his eyes.

A shape rose from the body and looked down on Hernando.

“Madre de Dios.  Es el Diablo!”

He scrambled backwards over the floor until his back hit the wall.

An hour later the sprinklers started automatically, spraying a fine mist over the shrivelled marijuana leaves.

Copyright © 2013 Herman Kok

• Fiction
• Song Title Challenge