Final Girls 🔪❤

A flash fiction piece that is equal parts sapphic romance & teen slasher horror

Hi all,

It’s the final weekend of Bisexual Visibility Month and I wanted to commemorate the end of this month and ring in October—an extra special month because it’s my favorite and also the spookiest time of year 🎃🦇✨—by finally letting everyone read Final Girls, the very first short story I got published in a literary magazine! 🥳

I retain all the rights to publish this story, as featured originally in the print-only Pride Issue of Haunted Words Press: Bleeding Hearts Beat Still. You can still purchase the issue online (the shipping is more affordable if you’re in the UK), but since I’d like to be able to share this story widely and also celebrate my own sapphic identity this month, now seemed like a good time to finally share it on my own platform.

Enjoy reading ❤

FINAL GIRLS

By Jazmin Conde Nuñez

This isn’t the way I imagined it would be when Kate and I finally got together, the many times I fantasized about us being alone in the dark, my body pressed against hers as she held me tight.


Then again, I don’t think anyone ever imagines they’ll end up hiding in a tool shed with their biggest gay high school crush—hoping they won’t be found by the psychopathic killer who slaughtered three of our classmates earlier that night. 


“Carla, shh! He’s coming…” 


Kate puts a finger over my lips, and I hold my breath as she holds my hand. 


I’m not thinking about the bloodthirsty monster who will never stop hunting us. 


I’m not thinking about my life—or how it could end in a minute. 


All I’m thinking about is Kate holding my hand.

How tightly she’s holding on.

How soft her hand is.

How it feels like our hands were made to hold each other. 


All I’m thinking about is how I wish I’d had the courage to hold her hand a day—a week—months ago!—so that the first time we held hands didn’t have to be right before our untimely deaths. 


 All I’m thinking about is how I wish Kate and I were anywhere but here.

So we could have a future.

So we could hold hands everyday after this. 


All I’m thinking is— 


WHAT A STUPID FUCKING WAY THIS IS TO DIE. 


The killer saunters closer, listening for mine and Kate’s pounding heartbeats and stifled breath in the silence between each of his slow, heavy footsteps. 


Kate holds onto my hand even tighter, and it’s clammy now, but I have to let go. 


The killer approaches the tool shed. 


I see the shine of his black eyes and the jagged blade he uses to slaughter his victims. 


As soon as he puts a hand on the tool shed door, I push the door open into the killer’s face— 


THWACK!
 

—and he stumbles. 


The surprise gives me just enough time to remember the three weeks of kickboxing I did last summer at the REC and I remember to keep my elbows and fists up over my face as I send an upward kick into the killer’s face—and that gives Kate and I a few more seconds. 


Finding my breath again, I shout, “KATE, LET’S GO!” 


So we run, hand in hand, through the dark and out of the barn. 


I’m not sure what to do next.

I’m not sure where else Kate and I can go or how much longer we can survive.

But I’m holding Kate’s hand.

And all I’m thinking about, more than anything else, is that I want to keep holding Kate’s hand. 

Thank you for reading and for subscribing to this newsletter! I hope you enjoyed Final Girls if you read the piece! And please feel free to leave a comment and/or share this story with anyone who may like it 🥰

+In honor of Bi Visibility Month, if you are interested in seeing a compiled list of some of my favorite bisexual people in fiction and in real life, you can check out the cute instagram post I made for that 💖💜💙

Take care, everyone!

-Jazmin