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The Collector

·150 words·1 min
Flash Fiction Deadlines For Writers

“The realism is remarkable. I’ve never seen busts so lifelike. Where did you get them?”

“I made them.”

Robert took the offered wine glass, and looked in amazement at his host.

“Apologies for bringing you in early on such short notice. Everyone’s just so excited to meet you.”

“No, thank you. It’s a remarkable opportunity.”

“Indeed. Life changing, even.”

Robert reached out his glass for a toast, and realized his host’s hands were empty.

“Oh, how forgetful of me. Mine’s in the other room. Go ahead, I’ll be right back.”

The wine was sweet, but had a strange aftertaste. Robert felt warmth radiate from his core. His muscles stiffened, cramping into knots. He collapsed to the floor, paralyzed, though fully conscious.

His host returned, carrying a roll of plastic, rubber gloves, and a fish boning knife. Leaning in close, he whispered, “Such exquisite cheek bones. You’ll make a fine addition.”