The scream


Copyright – Marie Gail Stratford

In the darkening street a display window glimmered. Passers-by were oblivious to the sound of screaming, muffled within steel and concrete.

Only two men knew of this woman’s fear. One, his face a mask, paced beside his captive, willing her to scream ever louder, as he watched keenly, through the nearby window, the street and skyline outside.

A second man heard too, and hesitated, knowing these screams were calling him to his death; but then he leapt, and flew, smashing through plate-glass like a speeding bullet.

The glow of kryptonite reflected on his face, and an evil laugh split the air.


 And here he is. What a man.

Once more it’s time for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. My story is a response to this week’s photo prompt. You can click on the link and read them all.

22 thoughts on “The scream

  1. Superman never fails to come to the aid of unfortunate victims. And what an entrance he made, despite knowing he would come face to face with his old adversary and the dreaded kryptonite. Nice take on the prompt. 🙂


    • Right will always win in Superman stories, anyway. I wish that was the case in the rest of life. Your photo had me stumped beyond the kryptonite angle, I must admit. It’s produced quite a variety of stories this week. Thanks for your comment.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Russell. What would we do for a good story if we had no imperilled heroes or distressed damsels? Thank you for your feedback – getting the pace and buildup right is tricky in these short pieces.


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