Day 306 – A Dream – 50 Word Story Expanded

“The world in chaos, brother fighting brother, sister killing sister, families, dying, humanity, on the verge of extinction, yet” he says, gripping the podium tightly, looking around at the faces of the small gathering before him. He bows his head and closes his eyes, “Yet, they still abandon his word, they still ignore his existence, when, in our time of need he would gladly stand by our side and fight.”

The room erupts with cheers of agreement in the form of a word, the word, that ends every prayer, that finishes every blessing, that finishes, every chapter of his good book.

“The world, this pitiful, dying,worthless planet, our home, needs him. Our fractured, decaying, empty species, needs him, so, why does he not come?” He says, looking around the room once more, their eyes tell him the answer, none know why he does not come, and, he smiles.

“I know the answer,” he says softly, he can hear them all let out a sigh of relief, his smile grows.

“He came to me last night, in a dream, and he told me why, he told me how he wished to come and save us, save the ones who have stood by his word, but, he can’t, and he needs our help to do so.”

They scream out in excitement, panic, and fear all at once, calling for the answer.

“We have to kill them all, the non believers, every single one, so, his power is undiluted, untainted, and he can come to our aid.”

The room falls silent, he searches them, with his eyes, until he finally comes to rest on a young woman, she quickly looks away from his gaze, and he smiles.

“Mary-Beth, you turned your back on this congregation some time ago, but recently, you came back, why?”

She stares at him in silence as all eyes fall on her, she slowly opens her mouth, as if to say something, but, quickly closes it again.

He steps out from behind the podium and walks towards her, pulling out a large blade, gasps break out sporadically through the group, until he flips it around and holds the handle towards her, she looks down at it then back at him.

“Go on, take it,” he says.


“So I can show you why you came back, and why, you’ll fight by my side, and remove the unbelievers.”


“Take it!” He yells, grabbing her hand, and slamming the handle into hers, the blade cuts into the palm of his hand and he pulls away, blood splashes against his face.

She grips the handle of the blade tightly, and bites down on her bottom lip, before looking up at him, the blood runs quickly down his face, he smiles, a demented, wry smile.

“Well? Are you game?” He asks.

“Are you a fucking retard?”

“Depends on who you ask, maybe? Or maybe, just maybe, I will be the savior of us all.”

Published by

Matthew Tonks

People are surprised when reading Matthew’s stories that he’s a sane forty something year old, happily married, father of one, employed full time and dream of dark disturbing things that any sane person would never even contemplate thinking of. But it's true, he’s toyed with writing for most of his adult life, but has always found the peg a writer must fit into is not the shape he wished to be. His writing can be described as lamenting, long, concussive (yes it smashes you in the head), compulsive, and stuffed with rhythmic communication and violence, let’s not forget the violence. His own opinion on his writing is this, “You see, I don't just want the words to seep into your mind, but into your soul, showing you images of blood and beauty through, volatile language, violence, sex, love and sin. My muse takes different shapes, and every now and then you can see her shining her wicked smile in some of my stories, tempting you with her promises, but ripping your heart out instead.” So have a look, and take a seat in my wayward ride, as you join me while I purge through, this twisted road of madness.

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