This month’s flash fiction offering is dedicated to my loving and supportive partner who’s been a HUGE help when it comes to events and publishing. I seriously could not do any of this without him.
So, of course, this is a story Mark would hate.
His hatred / fear of Ouija boards is what inspired this particular story. Mark accepts the fact that I have some scary looking books / movies / items in my collection, but Ouija boards are one of the few scary / occult things that I am banned from bringing into the house. (You’ll notice I don’t have a picture of one in the header image for this blog post). I’m not even allowed to have clothing or jewelry that references it. And honestly, I’m happy to oblige.
This is something that we as a household do not mess with.
~ ~ ~
“You can talk to him now,” said the medium. The tips of her fingers gently pressed into Marjorie’s.
With a gulp and a shuddering breath, Marjorie willed herself to speak.
“B-Bill? Are you here, love?” Her voice was so feeble, so drenched in grief she didn’t recognize it.
There was a hint of a tremor beneath her hands, and she almost yanked them away when the planchet began its slow crawl towards the word YES.
The medium said something soothing, comforting, but Marjorie didn’t hear it. A sob escaped from her and the corners of her lips formed an uneasy smile.
“Oh, Bill. I’ve m-missed you so, s-so much.”
“Thank you for joining us today, Bill,” said the medium. “Your wife has been trying hard to contact you. Do you have anything you’d like to say to her?”
The planchet circled the word YES.
Marjorie blubbered something unintelligible. The medium kept her cool and nodded as the planchet shuddered beneath their hands.
“What is it, Bill?” Marjorie tried again.
The movements of the planchet were shaky at first, uncertain.
Y – O – U
“You!” said Marjorie, eagerly hanging onto every letter her late husband spelled out.
B – I – T – C – H
“You… bitch? But Bill. Darling, I…”
Now, the planchet shot across the board, hovering over each letter long enough for the medium to take note. She read the message to Marjorie word by word.
FUCK YOU
I WAS DONE
I TOLD YOU NOT TO MESS WITH THIS OCCULT STUFF
YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT IT
A FUCKING OUIJA BOARD
WHY COULDNT YOU JUST LEAVE ME BE
YOU STUPID SELFISH BITCH
DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOUVE UNLEASHED
Marjorie shuddered, unable to control the flow of tears as the medium read each word without emotion. Neither one of them noticed the lights flickering until it was too late.
With a bang like a gunshot, the board leapt into the air and flung itself into the wall behind Marjorie’s head. Both women’s fingertips burned where they touched the planchet. Electricity arced between their hands as they pulled away from the table, illuminating the now dark house.
The tremors started in the floor, nearly knocking Marjorie out of her chair. But that was the least of her worries. Soon, the whole house was shaking. Pictures fell off the walls, knick-knacks toppled over, furniture exploded and windows shattered.
In the growing tornado of debris, even the medium was whimpering, mumbling apologies to the great beyond to no avail.
Marjorie sniffled. “All I wanted was to see you again.”
