It feels like yesterday I was driving down Route 66 in a beat-up Ford, eager to begin a new life in California. Somehow, I found myself pulling into the gravel parking lot next to a shack. Tucumcart Trading Post, the sign next to the shack read. I entered the shack, expected to see supplies on racks but instead I met the unexpected. Him.
He had lured me to the shack, waited for me to enter before sinking his disgusting fangs into my neck. He had left me just alive to transform into what I am now – blood-lust and immortal – just like him.
Each week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple hosts Friday Fictioneers where we’re challenged to write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words, more or less, based on the picture above.