Genie In A Candle

Day 13 of Flash Fiction Month!

Today we were given a horror genre challenge. My personal challenge was to use the monster/creature trope, using a birthday candle, and lastly ending it on the “The End…Or Is It?” trope. 

Having nothing better to do after school was let out, Alexander, Paul and David sat in a dimly lit garage holding their breaths as Alexander held the striped birthday candle.

“Jimmy sold this to me for five bucks,” Alexander said. “If nothing happens, we go get my money back alright guys?”

“Sure,” Paul agreed. David answered with a nod. “And what exactly is supposed to happen?”

“He said a genie’s soul is trapped in this candle. And you know what genies do.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Aladdin,” Paul nodded. “So now what? You supposed to rub the candle?”

“We light it.”

Alexander struck a match and lit the striped birthday candle. The three boys looked at each other for a second before the flame began to flicker. The flame moved from one side to the other and flickered from yellow to green to blue. It grew larger and large till it touched the ceiling.

“This is it, boys,” Alexander proclaimed, rubbing his hands.

The flame that was now well above their heads suddenly shrunk to the size of a fist and out of it came a voice that said: “What?”

Alexander cleared his throat. “Oh ye wise genie of the candle. I am your new mast—..”

“Now just who the hell do you think I am?” Out of the blue flame emerged a tiny round head that peered up at the boys. Two tiny arms emerged from either sides of its round bulbous blue body.

“You’re the genie of the candle right?” asked Paul.

“Genie?” The blue entity rested a hand on one hip while the other came up to point at the boy who spoke. “I am no genie. I am a monster from the deepest darkest depths of your innermost fears sent to eat you up.”

“So,” Alexander started, “you’re not a genie?”

He turned his gaze and his little pointed finger to Alexander. “Hell no,” he spat out a tiny spark of blue that hit the ground with a fizzle.

“So,” Alexander continued, “you’re not gonna grant my wish?”

“Your wish?” The blue entity looked incredulous. “No, I’m not gonna grant your wish. I ain’t a fuckin’ fluffy ass genie. Who do you think I am? I’m a spawn of the devil. I am Beelzebub and Behemoth combined. Some call me Asmodeus, some call me Azazel. I am Lucifer’s servant and I am here to eat your sou—..”

Alexander blew the striped birthday candle out and the blue entity vanished leaving behind a trail of smoke.

“What a waste,” Alexander said. “Come on boys. Let’s go teach Jimmy a lesson.”

Alexander snapped the striped birthday candle in two and threw it on the ground. He stomped off with Paul following closely behind.

David, who’d sat there quiet like a ghost the whole time, stared at the broken candle. He got up to leave but not before picking up the broken striped birthday candle, carefully placing it in his pant pocket. He smiled, gave his pocket a light pat and followed his friends.



The Viewfinder

He looked through the black viewfinder you would find at some scenic place. It was his idea that on his first date with the woman he met at the book store they’d visit the carnival passing through town. He saw this tent and excitedly dragged her along with him. She did not see the appeal of investigating a black tent with a lone black viewfinder in it.

He pulled back from the viewfinder. “You have got to try this!”

“What did you see?” she asked.

“I won’t tell you,” he said giddily like some school boy about to play the nastiest prank on someone. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

She shrugged and stepped in front of the black viewfinder that had “See your DEEPEST and DARKEST fears!” written with the type of squiggly lines you’d only ever find at a haunted mansion. She was nervous; she was easily spooked. For one last time, she looked at him still all smiles, and past him to the excitement of the bustling crowd outside the small tent they were standing in, reminding herself that she needed to loosen up and relax.

“Here goes nothing.”

She looked through the black viewfinder and found herself standing in the middle of an empty street. She could see her hands and her feet and found this a little odd. She didn’t make a big deal out of it but merely thought: technology these days.

The street was empty but the buildings surrounding it seemed emptier, if that were even possible. She walked straight ahead for there was nowhere else to turn which became boring soon enough that it was getting time to end this silly endeavor. She tried to pull herself away from the black viewfinder but hadn’t a clue how. Thinking that perhaps she had to walk back to her starting position, she turned back and started walking and walking until everything looked the same as it did in the other direction. She began to panic.

“Hello?” she cried out.

The doors on the buildings surrounding the street all opened at once and she gasped, holding her hands to her head instinctively. The doors compelled her to enter them. It didn’t matter to her which one she picked, she still felt ridiculous about the situation and increasingly alarmed. But perhaps this strange place was showing her the way out.

She entered the nearest door on her left. It was a room covered with mirrors and nothing more. Some were cracked and some were intact but they all seemed to be covered in a thin layer of dirt or steam or something because she couldn’t see herself clearly in any of them. She left the room and as she did, she pulled back and saw her date standing next to her.

“So did you see it? It’s funny, right?” he chuckled.

“What’s funny about mirrors?”

He was confused so he leaned in on the black viewfinder and laughed.

“You know, I don’t think you were looking properly,” he said. “Try again and this time, really look.”

She didn’t know if she wanted to go back to that creepy empty street but apparently there was supposed to be something very funny in there. Somewhere.

She looked through the black viewfinder again and entered another door. It appeared to be a bar and in the middle of the room there was a woman wearing clothes that looked very familiar. The woman stood with her arms crossed and a very stern look on her face. She noticed there were men sitting all around the bar, faceless. Still, she had a sense that they were all engrossed with the woman in the middle of the room. The woman walked towards the bar and ordered herself a drink, all the while the faceless men mirroring their heads to the way she moved. The woman didn’t seem to care or notice all the attention she was being given but simply flipped her hair carelessly when a man at the furthest corner of the room hissed at her. Then the man next to him did the same until like a chain it spread through the room. She was surprised at the calm that the woman was exuding as the hissing became louder and louder. Then all at once the faceless men faced her and hissed with even more acid than before. She turned and ran for the door.

“That was not fun,” she said as she found herself staring at the black viewfinder.

“What do you mean? It’s hilarious!”

“No, I just want to go. This place is giving me the creeps.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who are afraid of clowns? Come on, that is such a cliché!”


“Yeah, that dancing clown. He’s like this –” he wiggled his hips and waved his arms around his head. “Man, I love carnivals.”

She looked around making sure that they were still standing underneath the black tent. There was a breeze outside and it created waves on the fabric of the tent as if things were lurking outside of it. She shivered.

He noticed. “Look, why don’t I go get us something hot to eat. Maybe you’re hungry or something.”

“You’re just gonna leave me alone here? In this creepy tent?”

“You’re overreacting.” He turned to leave, “I’ll be back in a few. You better be laughing or smiling or something when I get back.”

She grimaced. She wanted to get out of this black tent and rejoin all the normal people outside but she knew from the look in his eyes that he wouldn’t let up until she came out just as self-content as he was.

She wandered back into the black viewfinder and heard a faint little song coming from a door to her right. She recognized that the room was her bedroom. As she stepped through, the door closed and disappeared. She cursed under her breath then swivelled and banged against the wall. The door did not reappear.

She felt a deep dark dread run down her spine as she turned to face a large pile of books in the middle of the room in a burning pyre. She recognized the titles as the texts slowly burned away. The room started to vibrate and move. The walls were pushing everything towards the middle, pushing her towards the funeral pyre. She clung to the wall behind her for dear life, kicked and beat at it for the door to appear again but it was just a wall now. And as the flames engulfed her body along with everything else in the room that she had ever owned, she slowly pulled herself away from the black viewfinder.

She looked back at her date now holding two steaming cups of something, spit a nasty word at him, and stomped off the tent.

He followed but not without looking around the tent one last time trying to decipher what exactly it was that made her uncomfortable. He shrugged and came to the conclusion that the only logical explanation was that she just hated clowns or color or joy itself because there was nothing creepy to him about a multicolored tent with a sign hanging outside that says, “World’s Smallest Dancing Clown!”



Beast 2

Oh dear
Can you come closer?
Oh dear
I don’t bite.
Oh fear
I don’t know how to react to this mental exposure
And my heart’s putting up a fight.

My gut is hanging out;
I have no exoskeleton
To cover my wounds, cover my scars
And the ticking of empty hours.
Your gaze can destroy
So take a look.

Tell me you see a different girl –
A creature of the night.
Tell me her blood is dark as wine –
Something you drink in the light.
You see the whites of her eyes
A color too bright:
A beast that will fill you with fright.

Oh dear
Are you looking for something
To hold onto
Something like a sharp knife?

You are the animal;
I am the beast you made of me.
Without your love
I couldn’t fall to my knees
And rest on your bed
Without the voices in my head.

Tell me you see a different girl –
A creature of the night.
Tell me her blood is dark as wine –
Something you drink in the twilight.
You see the whites of her eyes
A color too bright:
A beast that will fill you with fright.


Another song I wrote about a month back. I’ve been writing a lot of songs lately so I thought I would at least share some lyrics.

It’s quite rough but if you would like to actually hear this, you can!

Thank you and have a wonderful day/night.