Back in the game with my weekly illustrated flash fiction. Story below.
“You’re terrified, aren’t you.” Thelma whispered to Byron.
“I prefer to think of it as a highly developed sense of self preservation” replied Byron, stepping up to the platform. “I’m thankful, for if I were less frightened, I may not have lived as long as I have.” He paused, attempting to compose himself. “Although these shakes are irritating” He gave her hand a brief squeeze and mounted the platform, surveying the crowd before him.
“Right you parasitic germ sacks, I am your leader now. Thelma here, is your queen. Treat her as such and she will reward you. Not in the many incredible ways she rewards me, but rewarded nonetheless. Treat her as less and you won’t live long to regret it. Now, you can jump on board or get thrown off screaming. Who’s with me?”
A roar erupted from the small crowd, fearful of showing a lack of enthusiasm.
“Jeffries here, will assign you positions. Form an orderly line and no fighting. Now!”
As the assembled crew jostled into line, Thelma and Bryon stepped down, strolling towards the ship.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it dear?” asked Thelma.
“Actually, I found it rather fun.”