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This is a short Secret-Santa fiction gift for
, as part of the fiction secret-santa organized by . This is a really fun idea, a really good challenge, and a great way to celebrate both Christmas and Substack Fiction. Other participants will be listed below, and be sure to check out Emily’s newsletter for a roundup of all the stories!From my research observing Nick’s notes, most popular stories1, and most recent stories, here’s what I settled on:
He likes sharp, twisty endings
Writes speculative fiction, generally modern
Not afraid to write intense!
So I tried to write something:
Intense, thrilling, speculative in a modern setting, with a sharp and twisty ending.
Merry Christmas, Nick!
Check out his Substack and subscribe! This Nick Writes
A Gift for Nick Buchheit
Barry Elson’s lungs were hot, his hands cool with adrenaline. He was in a dark alleyway in Kuala Lumpur. It was 2am on Christmas day, and the tropical air was thick and warm. He looked ahead, and looked behind. No one—so far.
As he caught his breath, he reviewed what he knew. His brother had found him, there could be no doubt. Hiding from Lawrence had been his goal—it was easy enough to get away. Their fathers multi-billion dollar international conglomerate, Elson Industries, had a presence everywhere. He could slip away, and hide anywhere. He’d been practicing his Malay, so Kuala Lumpur was a logical choice, and one that wouldn’t need much in the way of explanation or paper trail.
Footsteps in the dark. Barry hid behind a garbage can in the shadows of the alley. His mind raced.
It was a year ago that their father had died. Bertrand Elson—founder and genius. They’d always lived in his shadow. At the reading of his will, Barry assumed he would be named as some kind of successor. He was the oldest, he was most active in the business. Barry’s disappointment stung like a slap in the face at first, until the rest of the will was read.
Their father had always been sentimental, especially so about his four children. His will included a little clause, encouraging the siblings to live long and happy and independent lives. In their twilight years, whoever was the last of the siblings to remain alive, would receive the entirety of the estate.
Barry had received this news dispassionately. It was the way of that generation to play games from beyond the grave. He quickly decided he would receive nothing, and went about his life. Then, Lisa had died. Some kind of hiking accident. Barry had grieved her more than he grieved his own father—a life cut short!
Some months later, when Tamara had died—Barry knew. He couldn’t prove it, but he knew. Lawrence—his ambitious, greedy, pernicious younger brother. Barry hadn’t gone to Tammy’s funeral, as much as it pained him. Instead, he fled.
Months passed. Barry relaxed—it felt like, maybe, he’d really managed to disappear.
But this? Now?
How had it happened?
More footsteps echoed in the alleyway. Barry peeked out from his hiding spot in the darkness—a lone figure approached.
“Bertrand Junior!” Lawrence shouted with a sneer. Barry shuddered. “I know you’re here, Barry.”
Barry waited, silently.
“Come on out, Barry,” Lawrence called. “I’ve got a Christmas present for you!”
“This isn’t what dad wanted!” Barry shouted. The footsteps paused.
“Isn’t it?” Lawrence retorted. “I heard, ‘last kid alive gets the whole bag,’ am I wrong?”
Barry cursed under his breath. “You’re sick.”
“Dear old dad had his timeline and I have mine.” The footsteps continued—closer now.
“You think this will solve your problems?”
Lawrence laughed mirthlessly. “They say money doesn’t buy happiness but they’ve never had a billion dollars.”
“You won’t have a billion dollars long the way you waste your money.”
Lawrence didn’t respond to that. He stepped carefully past where Barry was hiding—he hadn’t seen him. Lawrence waved his gun ahead of him and shouted, “All that money will take a lot of time to waste, Barry. So, Merry Christmas to me!”
Barry lunged out from where he was hiding, tackling his brother.
Three shots rang out in an alley in Kuala Lumpur, briefly interrupting an otherwise silent night.
(577 words)
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy! Special thanks again to
for organizing this event, to for participating! Check out the other talented writers involved in this Fiction Gift Exchange—one of whom has written something for me!Have you taken a look at the section called “The Volume” recently? All my longer-form stories are kept there! Be sure to take a look and catch up on any stories you’ve missed!
Thank you and Merry Christmas!
His two most popular stories are “It Cost Too Much” and “He Never Wore It”. His two most recent stories, at the time I wrote this, are “Who The F*** Is Marie?” and “The Future’s Donor”
This was a terrific little piece. Now I want to know what happened! Who was the last one standing? Who got it all?
Very nicely done, Scoot