Welcome to April’s blog hop! You can read my Flash Fiction below. Don’t forget to scroll to the bottom for the links to more amazing authors and details on my other short stories featuring Ernie.
Were’s the Rabid Rabbit
Ernie arrived as Pierce collapsed to the ground. His neck had been twisted 180 degrees, and the bones were trying to poke out from under the skin.
“Was that really necessary?” Pierce asked, head twitching as he tried to look across the room.
Ernie knew the man wasn’t really dead, but even so, biology should have stopped Pierce talking when his head had been twisted 180 degrees. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on Ernie’s part, but Pierce and silence had never been familiar.
Pierce had landed chest down on the floor. He was wearing what could only be described as a toga, but the too-thin material put him dangerously close to indecent. Apart from the broken neck, he otherwise appeared to be in good spirits.
“Did you start it?” Ernie asked, crossing his arms, and took in the man who had dropped Pierce. He was as large as a heavyweight wrestler and dressed in combat trousers and a black vest top. He would have stood out in a crowd without adding anything else, except for some reason he also had a thick coat of short white fur and two large floppy ears protruding from his head.
“You don’t know that,” Pierce spluttered, flopping a little as he tried to roll towards Ernie.
“That wasn’t a denial,” Ernie said, as he took in the rest of the Bar.
The Rabid Rabbit was a small hole-in-the-wall bar that had seen better days. Its tables and chairs were battered wood that has seen one too many fights, and there was a large, chipped bar along one wall. The patrons were a mix of legends who likewise had seen better days. All of them were watching Pierce with varying levels of disgust. The bar might have catered to the town’s supernatural elements, but even they had their limits.
Ernie sighed as it became obvious that Pierce wasn’t getting up on his own. Grabbing him under the armpits, Ernie dragged him upright. Ernie’s eighty-year-old body wouldn’t have had the leverage, or strength, to lift Pierce’s taller form if he had been human, but since they were in a bar that catered to everything but humans, Ernie was sure no one would care that he was breaking the rules.
Now that Pierce was upright, the twisted neck looked so much worse. His glamour was slowly failing as it struggled to make him look normal and failed. His skin paled and his hair turned bone white. He blinked, eyes glowing bright red. The smell of old death rose around them, not the scent of rot, but of bone dust and wet dirt in an old crypt.
Ernie waited for Pierce to steady his balance, then reached up, putting a hand on either side of Pierce’s face as he twisted.
Someone vomited loudly at the back of the room. It was violent enough to be heard over the snap of bone being forced back into place. Ernie held Pierce’s head until he could feel the muscle under the skin writhing back into place. Being undead had its benefits. Today that included not having a real nervous system, meaning no pain.
“Thanks, Mate,” Pierce said, rolling his neck as it finished healing. His glamour settled back around him, skin moving back to a human pale, and hair turning white blond. His eyes lingered red, the colour toning down slowly until most people would assume they were brown.
“What the hell are you?” The furry man asked.
Ernie looked at Pierce, who was studying his fingernail with an intent focus. “Can’t you pick on people your own size, Pierce?” Ernie asked. “You’re a Draug, not an Ogre.”
Pierce snorted. “There is no one his size.”
“Drauag are monsters from legend, fierce undead creatures that rip apart people who try to steal their treasure,” the furry man said. “You couldn’t strike fear into a coward.”
“What do you know, you’re the Easter Bunny,” Pierce said snidely, flicking his hair out of his eyes as he turned his back to the man. “Stereotypes like that are what is wrong with this world.”
Ernie stepped forward, pressing a pulse of power out in warning before the man-rabbit could do more than snarl. Ernie was starting to see how Pierce had got his neck broken the first time.
“I am not the Easter Bunny.” The man sounded more wolf than human or rabbit. “I am a WereRabbit.”
There was silence in the room. It was quite impressive really how solid it was. Pierce, of course, had to be the one who broke it, as his snigger broke free. Ernie wished that kicking Pierce would make him shut up, then considered doing it just to make himself feel better. Ernie didn’t get the chance as the WereRabbit came at Pierce.
Ernie caught the WereRabbits fist that had been aimed at Pierce’s jaw. The WereRabbit tried to kick instead, so Ernie twisted. Bone snapped, unlike Pierce, the WereRabbit could feel pain. The scream made Ernie wince.
The WereRabbit fell to his knees, putting him closer to Ernie’s height, so Ernie put him to sleep with a quick Glasgow kiss. The WereRabbit hit the floor with a thump.
The room was silent as Ernie took in each of them. “Who the hell is turning Werewolves into WereRabbits for Easter?”
A slip of a woman started towards the back exit, but one of the other patrons grabbed her arm and pulled her out in front of the room. The woman flushed red. “It was just a joke.” Ernie continued to stare at her as she shuffled her feet. “For April Fools.” She added.
“Fix it,” Ernie said, then when she opened her mouth to speak again he added. “Now.”
The woman pouted but pulled her arm free of the person holding her to go to the Werewolf on the floor.
“Told you it was worth coming down for a drink today,” Pierce said, smiling as he slapped Ernie on the back. “Happy April Fools.”
“I don’t think you’re quite understanding what that means,” Ernie said, but Pierce ignored him as he waved to the bartender. Ernie really needed to stop answering Pierce’s calls.
Want to read more about Ernie and Pierce? Check out FINDING DEATHS SCYTHE. It’s free with my newsletter and the first released in the Ernie Smith and the Seven Sins story.
Being retired was supposed to be easy. No drama, no family, no problems. Ernie should have known better than to piss off Death.
Death’s Scythe is missing, and he’s refusing to collect any more ghosts until Ernie gives it back.
There’s only one problem. Ernie didn’t steal it.
Unfortunately, Death’s Pride stops him from seeing any other answers. As the ghosts become a problem, Ernie has to choose: find the Scythe, or spend the rest of his retirement with people he couldn’t stand when they’d been alive.
https://books2read.com/u/ml2gBP
https://www.jemmaweir-com.preview-domain.com/newsletter
Also out now, IN THE CARDS, the next installment of Ernie Smith and the Seven Deadly Sins.
The game is rigged; the youth is just an illusion, and for Goddess’ sake, don’t drink the tea.
A family visitor is the last thing Ernie wants. Especially one who wants to play matchmaker, despite not being able to keep her own love life on track.
As the games begin, he knew he shouldn’t have shown her the poker table.
The stakes have been raised, and the prize is a night as a young couple. But when only the couple can see the illusion, Ernie must keep them safe from themselves.
The only way to stop the games is for Ernie to reunite his cousin with her girlfriend. But he is starting to wonder who thought Lust was a deadly sin. Clearly, it should have been Love.
https://books2read.com/u/3JXO8K
Follow the blog hop to read some more amazing authors.
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- A Day to Remember by Katharina Gerlach
- Were’s the Rabid Rabbit Jemma Weir <– Your Here
- VI – The Lovers by Raven O’Fiernan
- Grit Nearly Succeeds by Bill Bush
- Love’s Sweet Prick by Sabrina Rosen
- For a Breath of Air by Nic Steven
- Pitch by Sandra Llyn
- Bees by Barbara Lund
- Unknown Title by Juneta Key <- Link coming
- Bullied by Elizabeth McCleary