Toasted

Helena (you know Helena, dahlink. Tall, cool blonde with a razor sharp tongue and a wit to match. I mean that affectionately, of course) always hints that we might one day collaborate and today was the day I decided we were going to. Whether she approved or not. I read her piece today (which is a treat, as always) and have added my own as a sort of continuation. They can both be read alone, but I think they’re quite fun together. *tosses vampire gauntlet*

In case you’re unaware of the spark for this little fiction fire, it’s a weekly jaunt called Friday Fictioneers. Click the link, look at the photo, write 100 words (or so) and link back to share and read other’s stories!

Photo by Sandra Crook

       “Hellfire and ashes,” Jakob swore.
       The turrets of the quaint chateau flamed merrily. The onlookers cries were decidedly less festive. Jakob ducked back into the shadow of a nearby building. His face was too recognizable and you never knew who belonged to the Count these days.
       He slid from shadow to shadow—difficult even in the waning daylight. Difficult for anyone except Jakob. He groaned at the name on a burning tractor. Van Helsing Bros.
       It wasn’t the first time someone used his family name—and certainly not the last—but must they light his favorite Transylvanian B&B on fire?

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37 thoughts on “Toasted

  1. Ah, to be a Van Helsing of THE Van Helsings. The alternative would be dreadful, wouldn’t it? Like being a Kennedy in Massachusetts, but not, you know… THOSE Kennedys.
    You can hi-jack my little worlds any time you want to, darling, I don’t mind at all.

  2. Pingback: An American Redneck in Transylvania – Friday Fictioneers | Being the Memoirs of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante.

  3. Pingback: Graduation | Vers Les Etoiles

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