Flash Fiction July – Write a Sad Ending

Ivernash Gordon strolled into his boss’ office. “Well. I’m here.”

“Yes. So, you are. Please have a seat. Oh, before you do, please remove your weapons.”

Ivernash frowned. “Why?”

“It’s a safety precaution.”

“Safety? You sound like you’re worried that I’ll do something to you.”

“hahaha…Uhh, well. Anyway, I’d just feel better if your weapons were out of your easy reach.”


“Oh, for cryin’ out loud, Ivernash! Could you just do as I say?”

“Not without good reason.”

“Okay. Fine. I have information that I must tell you and I don’t want you to chop my head off about it.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Stop asking why!”

“Answer my question with a proper answer and I’ll stop asking why.”

“Fine. You want a proper answer? Fine. I am terminating your contract.”

Ivernash pulled out his sword. “You’re doing what?”

“Don’t be dense, man. I am going to kill you.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I certainly can. I am your creator!”

“No. You can’t. I have things that I still need to do. Quests that remain unfulfilled. A love that remains unrequited. I can’t die yet. I’m not ready.”


Ivernash pointed his sword at his boss’ throat. “Do not ‘Psh’ me. I haven’t the patience for it.”

“You don’t seem to understand. You must die. The story demands it.”

Ivernash thwacked the sword against the desk top, splitting the desk in half. Pens and papers slid to the center. The boss rescued his computer before it could join them. “I don’t care what the story demands.”

The boss set his computer on a nearby counter. He stood and dusted wood dust and shards off his lap. “See? That’s why I wanted you to remove your weapons. Darn. I really liked this desk too. Anyway, I have the scene all written in my head down to the exact punctuation marks. If it makes you feel any better, your death scene is glorious. People will talk about it and weep over it for years to come. Your death scene will make you immortal.”

“Immortal? Hoo. I like the sounds of that. But what about the rest of my team?”

“Oh, they’ll all live happily ever after.”

“And Zinshauaya?”

“She’ll turn to General Vizmark for comfort and they’ll get married and have a whole bunch of kids.”

Ivernash frowned. “General Vizmark? Why him? He’s five steps down from me on the looks and personality scale.”

“Oh, they’ll find that they have a lot in common or something. I haven’t really worked that detail out yet. But don’t worry! I will.”

“And she’ll be happy with him?”

“Gloriously happy.”

He shook his head. “I don’t see how that is possible.”

“Neither do I really, but I will make it happen.”

Ivernash returned his sword to its scabbard and sat down.

“So? What do you say?”

“I demand a bonus.”


“And, if I’m going to go all immortal as you say, a retirement fund.”

“A retirement—”

“And I want Zinshauaya to remain single.”

“But that isn’t—”

“If I can’t have her, I certainly don’t want someone like General Vizmark to have her.”

“But if I don’t pair her up with someone, people will complain.”

“I’ll complain if you do. Make her find peace with herself and something along the lines of she doesn’t need a man to make her whole or no one else can compare to me. Make something up and make it something that sounds true to her.”

“But…I like the idea of General Vizmark and her. It makes sense to me.”

“He’s a bore. Do not match my unrequited love with a bore.”

The boss returned to his seat and contemplated his smashed in desk. “Do you have any other demands?”

“Don’t kill me.”

He flailed his hands into the air. “Oh, for cryin’ out loud. I thought we resolved this. Look. If you die, you’ll be—”

“Immortal. I know that.” He grinned. “I was just testing you.”


“Now, is there anything else we need to discuss?”

The boss shook his head.

“Good. Be sure to keep your end of the bargain and I will die happily.” Ivernash stood. “I’m so glad we had this little talk. See you in the black and white.”

He walked out the door, leaving behind a befuddled boss.


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