We run a flash fiction contest on Twitter from time to time, here are our brilliant winners!
It was the first rain in her lifetime. Fires waned across the battlefield and went out one by one like candles in the night. She lay down her sword and wept for the dead, and the living. They needed a leader now, and they would look to her.
The girl placed the stolen ring on the dead king's cold finger. The leaky tomb started to glow and his hand began to twitch. His gruff whisper: "Now we begin."
"Can you sing me a song?" asked the little girl. A sigh followed. "I'm afraid I must decline." said the Banshee, unwilling to lose another friend.