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.
This week’s song is Finite = Alright by David Byrne and the genre is Horror/Thriller. As “=” is a mathematical symbol and not a grammatical one I made the judgment call to drop it in the story, but I bet bumblepuppies (who suggested this week’s song) is going to accuse me of cheating again. I just can’t win.
Finite = Alright
“No, Roy. I don’t want to hear it. Once we get out of here we’re over, done, finite!”
“Alright.” No use arguing with her here. “But will you please quiet down? I don’t think we’re alone.”
Roy heard her footsteps grow quiet and he turned around. He blinked against the sudden glare of her flashlight in his eyes.
“What do you mean?” Her voice was soft now, her eyes wide.
“I’m not sure. I heard something earlier. Let’s just find a way out, okay? I think it’s this way.”
Roy set off along the stone-walled passage. For the umpteenth time he swore at himself for getting Samantha into this. A night in a haunted house sounded fun. How was he supposed to know the basement led into a whole labyrinth?
The corridor forked.
“Which way do we go?” said Samantha.
Roy shone his light down the right side, and then the left. They seemed identical. Beyond the beam both were pitch black. He had no idea. “We go right,” he said.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
A little farther the passage opened into a cavern of sorts. The ceiling was so high the torch beams wouldn’t light it. When did we go so deep underground? thought Roy.
They slowly made their way deeper into the dark. Something flitted through the beams of their flashlights.
“What was that?” said Samantha.
“I don’t know. Probably just the light playing tricks.”
Rapid footsteps pattered behind them. They swung round.
“Keep calm, Sam. We’re too old to be afraid of the dark.” He forced a smile as he said it.
Just then both their flashlights died. They froze. They could hear their own heartbeats in the quiet.
Long seconds ticked by. Nothing happened. Roy let out the breath he’d been holding. Off to their left, close, a child laughed.
Copyright © 2014 Herman Kok