I sat on the velvet skin chair before the empty space of the Victorian-styled event. I rolled up my right sleeve to check my initiation tattoo—an intricate black ink forming dragon scales and its tail. I would be different the next day.
Last week, when my mother shot me in my head for my dead father’s fortune, I had already read my father’s diary—he would meet me in death to train me as one of the Paradise’s Guardians. The Paradise, the good land of death, must eliminate the soldiers of Red Hell before it could bloom peace and harmony.
A glass shattered. “Sorry, sorry! I was just excited.” My father’s hilarious sidekick, Jest, laughed a hundred shades of tones. I nodded to repress the tension I had.
The warm lights glowed as the Paradise’s ghosts filled the hall. “Son.” I looked at him.
My black tattoo lit up.
Check out this week’s prompt at:
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
WORD COUNT: 150
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