[This story was submitted for the 2023 NYC Midnight 250-Word Microfiction Challenge. It placed 9th in round one in a group of over forty entries therefore advancing me to round two of the competition. I was required to write a 250-word story that matched the following prompts: Genre: Action and/or Adventure. Action: Waiting for a delivery. Word to be included: “Dark”. I will be given new prompts and required to write a new story for round two of the challenge.]

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“December 3, 2023,” Glenn mumbled into his recorder. “Trial 1,015. I’ll be testing the addition of quartz crystals…if they ever arrive.”

There was a knock on the laboratory door and his assistant entered.

“Delivery for you.” 

“Finally,” Glenn said. “You can head home. I’ll lock up.”

He calibrated the machine, the flame of hope growing ever dimmer in his soul. He plucked the crystals from the package, inserted them into the socket, closed the housing, and powered the machine on.

Nada.

He snatched the recorder, ready to document yet another failure, when he heard the buzzing and crackling of circuitry. There was an intense flash of light as the machine exploded, launching shrapnel at his face and blowing him backward. His head collided with the linoleum floor. 

When he came to, smoke billowed along the ceiling. Blaring fire alarms filled his ringing ears. Flames licked the sterile white walls, inching closer to the cabinet marked flammable. He grabbed a microfiber rag off the counter, covered his mouth and nose, and stumbled toward the door as acetone, xylene, and other chemicals exploded in succession like a July 4th grand finale.

The inferno chased him to the Broad Street exit where he burst into the fresh night air. The nearby street lamp summoned him, a beacon in the dark, as it illuminated the poster attached to it. Exhilaration pumped fresh oxygen into his smoke-filled lungs as he read: