Flash Fiction Friday: Week #20

Amy C over at Romance Book Wyrm and Dottie over at Tink's Place
have come up with the idea for a Monday Morning Flash Fiction challenge. Each Monday a new picture prompt will be posted and if you choose to participate - you post your story on Friday.

And here is picture prompt #20:

 

My Story:

A Warm Cup of Revenge
By Michelle Greathouse

Vadoma made her way down the winding staircase, carefully staying on the right side - where there was more support - and lightly jumped over the missing tread two steps from the bottom.  The castle was in complete disrepair.

Vadoma could not be more pleased.

Years ago, her mother came to WynCliff Castle in search of honest employment - instead she found greed and corruption in William WynCliff and suffered daily abuse at his hands until finally, tired of his plaything - he threw her out into the night.

Simza made her way home, arriving weary in both mind and body. And four months pregnant.

Eighteen years later, after the death of her mother from influenza, Vadoma applied for the position of Cook at WynCliff Castle.  Her duties were light, the owner was well into his later years, lived alone except for the staff, and due to a delicate stomach, could only partake of the lightest of broths.  But they had to be flavorful - he was quite adamant about that.

Vadoma, having learned to cook at her mother and grandmothers knee - made exceptional broths for Lord WynCliff to dine upon.  Night after night he was amazed at the variety of flavors he experienced.

After a week of excellent meals, Lord WynCliff wished to meet the new Cook and instructed his house man to bring her into the dining hall.

Vadoma entered the dining hall and WynCliff indicated the seat at the end of the table.  Sitting Vadoma held in her hatred for this man - the man who abused her mother and threw her away like a piece of garbage without a second thought.  The man who gave Vadoma life - her father.  

“I have not eaten so well in longer than I can remember, young lady.  I would like for you to make a sweet broth and bring it to me in my chambers before I retire for the evening.”  With that, Lord WynCliff rose and made his way very slowly from the table - his house man by his side to steady him.

Vadoma knew this was the chance she’d been waiting for, rushing to the kitchen she began her broth.

Several hours later, Vadoma entered the sleeping chamber of Lord WynCliff, carrying a tray with a cup of warm lemon berry broth.  She found William already abed reading the newspaper, the covers folded neatly at his waist.

“I have brought your broth, I hope you enjoy it.”  Vadoma handed him the cup.  “Careful, it is hot.  I wouldn’t want you to burn yourself.”

William took the offered cup and bade Vadoma sit in the chair at the side of the bed.  She did so, eager to see how he liked the broth.

Blowing across the cup to cool the contents, William took a small sip and sighed.  “This is wonderful.”  He took another sip and another.  Once half the cup was gone, William eased back and regarded Vadoma.  “You are very familiar to me girl, have we met?”

Vadoma leaned closer to the older man.  “No, we have not met.”  She indicated the half finished broth, “Don’t let your broth grow cold.”

William finished his broth and handed the cup to Vadoma.  “I can’t for the life of me figure out why you look so familiar.  Who are your family?”

Vadoma stood and began pacing at the bedside.  “I look familiar to you because you knew my mother, eighteen years ago she worked for you.  You abused her, got her pregnant and tossed her out into the night.  Take a good look at me, Father.  Because I am the last person you will ever see.”

William began seizing .  

“The lemon in your broth concealed the bitter taste of the poison - you should be dead soon.”

Vadoma smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her and making her way down the stairs.

The End
Word Count: 653

What do you think?  I love it.  :)

M