Funk-N-Fiction

Author Kevin A Davis returns with another fantastic story (and a contest!) to wrap up our second day in the 2026 Halloween Flash Fiction event.

Moving Mabel
Kevin A Davis

Lucas studied Jack, whose typically bright expression had twisted into frowning concern as he pattered down the stairs. “What’s wrong?” asked Lucas.

“Mabel.” Jack offered nothing more. His black hair swung across his pale, furrowed brow. Even his attire lacked his vibrant flair, with a light blue shirt unadorned by rainbow suspenders. He gestured vaguely toward the front of the inn. “We’ve got to move her. Now.”

Stepping out of Jack’s way, Lucas glanced down at his socks. “I need shoes.”

“No time. It’s warm and dry outside. You’ll be fine.”

“Not going without shoes.”

Jack spun, darted to Lucas, and planted a kiss on his lips. “Then I’ll have to leave without you.”

With a glance up the steps, Lucas knew he’d never beat Jack to the Mustang. Already his lover’s lithe figure sped down the hall toward the side exit. Lucas swore, stomping after him. “Why are we in a hurry just to pack a van, or whatever?”

A bit of Jack’s impish demeanor returned as he looked over his shoulder. “We’re not packing anything. We’re moving her.”

“Could you be more vague?”

“Of course I could.” Jack darted through the back door, leaping out. “Thank you for coming. It could get dangerous. Quill might help; he’s quite fond of Mabel.”

“Dangerous?” What was Jack getting them into? Without shoes.

Jack threw open the door of the Mustang. “Hunters.”

Lucas faltered, partially because of a piece of stray gravel on the sidewalk, but mostly from the response. “Are you kidding me?” He received no answer as Jack slid into the driver’s seat.

Grumbling curses, Lucas made for his side, slightly shifting his human form so that his soles thickened to pads, though the werewolf nails pierced a perfectly good pair of socks. “What are we walking into?”

The engine roared to life, Jack already putting the car into gear. “Don’t know. Mabel set off the alarm. Two hunters triggered her wards, sniffing about her property before disappearing. Can’t take any chances. We have to move her. Not the first time.”

Lucas scowled as he buckled his seat belt. Hunters carried weapons and were prone to shoot anyone in a pinch. Mostly, they enjoyed torturing, hoping to gain leads to others who didn’t meet their human purest agenda. What in hell are we getting into?

That Jack had not lowered the top, said that he knew the risks; this wasn’t a joyride.

As they approached Mabel’s, Lucas recognized the area from the wedding, but they didn’t go as far as the driveway; instead, Jack pulled off into the woods, branches and leaves crackling under the tires.

“We’re going to have to run for it. Should have worn shoes, Tiny.” Despite Jack’s serious expression, the edge of his mouth twinged up, though he didn’t offer his warm smile.

As Lucas stepped out, Jack’s wand already lit green, bathing the area around the car. Brush sprouted up the sides while flowering vines slithered like tentacles over the top. The scent of fresh rain wafted in the air, ignoring the blue sky.

“Follow me.” Jack ran, and Lucas easily kept up, his socks snagging but his thickened feet unbothered by twigs or rocks.

Lucas stiffened when he heard other footsteps, but quickly recognized Tara running uphill with another woman, all of them aimed for Mabel’s house. Chimes tinkled in the breeze, and bright flowers dotted the hanging baskets on the porch. A man and a woman were entering the front door, leaving a round-faced woman to scan the surrounding area. When she saw them, Tara, and her companion, she nodded.

“Mabel?” asked Lucas.

“Sorry you won’t get to meet her on a better day. Let’s hope Quill gets here.”

There were no moving trucks, not even a van or car. “Are we carrying everything into the woods?” Lucas gestured to the building. “I thought we were moving her.”

“We are. Be a dear, Tiny, and stay out here. If the hunters arrive, can you distract them?” Jack spread out his chest and arms, as if trying to become bigger. “Lead them uphill?”

“You want me to shift, in front of hunters?”

“Well, if you could already be a werewolf, it would keep them from recognizing you, right?” Jack halted at the edge of the fragrant gardens, heavy with spicy aroma. “Just be careful. Draw them away, but don’t get caught. Quill should be here. Soon.” With a kiss, he dashed for the front door.

Lucas grunted as his partner disappeared into the old house, scanned the area, then moved to a tree to strip off his clothes. He’d do anything to protect Jack, but that became more complicated since his lover needed to help others.

He kept his transmogrification to the middle level, so that he bore what most saw as a werewolf form. Bipedal with all the trope features, including the long muzzle and tall ears. His transformation also touched his emotions, setting his pulse running at the idea of a chase, though he’d rather be the one in pursuit.

It only took a minute before he heard the trucks coming up the drive; three of them racing and kicking gravel.

Crouching just uphill from the house, he watched as they sped to a stop outside the gardens. All men, five total, two had rifles, but they were all dressed in tactical gear, playing soldiers.

He wasn’t surprised at the Confederate flag. Losers.

Before they had even assembled, Lucas let out a howl, turning them all in his direction. He rose to give them a long look at his form, waiting until the first moved his weapon, then he sprang ten feet behind a fat oak.

Gunshots echoed in a discordant rhythm. Bullets tucked into trunks and leaf-covered soil.

Using the tree for cover, he raced up the slope, leaping steeper sections with ease. He’d put twenty yards between him and the hunters, but as expected, they chased.

After a bit, he veered to the right, just able to see Mabel’s roof and the surrounding gardens.

The hunters were clustered and firing sporadically as they fought to catch up with him, some slipping on the leaves that covered the slope. Climbing uphill, they’d never catch him, but he needed them engaged, leaving Jack and the others to finish whatever they planned.

As he darted behind the trunk of an elm, he nearly ran into Quill.

The fae wore muted garb, compared to their meeting at the wedding. A dull green vest left the man’s tan skin exposed. Dark brown tights covered his legs, and he carried a knotted walking stick, worn smooth.

“Lucas, I presume.”

With a growl, Lucas confirmed it. A gunshot fired, planting a bullet in the soil up the slope.

“Thanks for bringing them up to me. Is this all of them?”

Lucas nodded.

Quill raised his staff, and a tether of green energy trailed from the base into the earth. His eyes closed and his ears twitched.

The shouts of surprise and panic came from downhill. Shots were fired, but no bullets landed nearby. It only took moments before the clamor subdued to whines and grunts, urging Lucas to peer around the tree.

He barely recognized the hunters. A mound of waist-high soil had risen like an anthill, squeezing the men together. From the ground, vines entwined the torsos and heads, leaving on a pair of red baseball caps dangling in the leaves.

They weren’t dead, based on the groans and light movement.

With a weary snort, Quill dropped to one knee, hand pressed into the soil at his feet. “That should hold them long enough.” The fae’s voice faded. “Go. Check on the witches. I’ll stay here.”

With a pause, Lucas studied the haggard fae, then the hunters. They weren’t freeing themselves, and any effort barely showed.

He snorted, then sprang into a run along the line of the slope, circling back down to Mabel’s house. Whatever Jack and the others were doing, he could see no activity. It could have been empty, for all he knew.

Not even winded, Lucas reached the gardens, walking the perimeter. Two doors to the hunters’ trucks had been left open in their haste to chase him. A hint of spent gunpowder fought against the spice and floral of the barrier of green surrounding the wooden walls of the building.

As the plants faded from existence, Lucas froze mid-step. The weathered white fence had disappeared, replaced by hardy weeds. Boards groaned, bringing his attention to the structure, or what replaced it.

A rotted shed crumbled in on itself; roof sagging like a work-worn horse. Surrounding it were the witches, Jack rising from the weeds where he’d been sitting, a grin forming as he spotted Lucas.

“Don’t you look handsome, Tiny.”

Lucas growled. Moving Mabel. The whole damn house and gardens?

“Grab your clothes. We’re done. Talking about heading back to the inn for a meal. Starving. How about you?” Jack glanced uphill. “Quill take care of them? I owe him.”

As the other witches passed with curious glances, Lucas grunted and stalked for his clothes. One of the witches called out, her voice impish, “Don’t change on my account.”

“Hot, isn’t he?” Jack’s tone had returned to his playful, irreverent self.

In his half-werewolf form, Lucas smiled, happy to have his partner back. He dropped it as Jack scurried to keep up, then scowled when his ass was slapped.

“Found her a nice place nearby. Thanks for helping. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Lucas grunted.

“Besides, what a great opportunity to show off my gorgeous hunk of a partner to my friends.”