Fleas jumped off of the tangled hair, copulated in mid-air and settled back amid the black tendrils.
I stared in disgusted fascination, my nostrils having made peace with the assaulting stench.
My mind was drawn inward, savouring the festering feeling of satisfaction acting like balm against the long-aching depths in the pit of my stomach.
I watched the gaping hole betwixt its eyes, the hole I had just made, rendering its horns useless; unable now to ram at me; its dead legs unable to stalk me; its glassy eyes, emptied of the evil spirit that has haunted me for so long.
Copyright – Kelly Sands
After days of ceaseless chanting, all the magi have accomplished is this oppressive canopy of rumbling clouds.
Below us, dark legions spread across the valley.
On our side, one hundred remain of the thousand that saw the first dawn of battle.
The chanting paused.
A child now stands among the quarreling magi. Unbidden, he steps forward and lifts a hand over the abyss.
Then, through the clouds, a shimmer.
A silver dragon swoops low among black flags and the spreading tidal roar of terror.
They flee; disperse like an ant colony disturbed.
The dragon soars and disappears and, with it, the child.
The mummified corpse on Dr Jade’s table lay on its side with fingers clawed and legs crouched, kneeling. The mouth was open, caught in the middle of a frozen scream.
All Dr Jade was interested in were the teeth though; the perfect white teeth on the grey, withered body. Continue reading
I met him once on my way to work. He was as expected; tall and thin, his figure bent by age, leaning on a scythe. His face was hidden by the black cloak, greening with age.
‘You can’t have come for me!’ I said. It wasn’t a question.
‘And why not?’ His was.
‘Because I’m too young. I still have much to do!’
I stopped and thought for a while. ‘Well, I’m on my way to work. Can’t just leave without notice. How would my boss cope?’
He paused and didn’t speak for a long while.
‘Have it your way then. I’ll take you later.’
He was waiting for me again on my way from work to home.
‘So, killing the Archduke…that was you?’
‘And the plague?’
‘Like sprinkling black pepper over Europe.’
‘Imagine how boring life would be if nothing ever happens…I do it all for you.’
For Trifecta. The challenge for this weekend was to get inspired by The Rolling Stones’ Sympathy for the Devil which just so happens to be one of my favourite songs.
Copyright – John Nixon
The dress was made at a bargain; a war was on and all the bride cared about was her prince in his freshly-pressed uniform. The groom left for France the day after the wedding. He was shot in a ditch a week later.
The second bride, a cousin of the first, married a doctor in that dress. The bride died of a fever her husband couldn’t cure.
Being a scientific man, the doctor never suspected that it was the curse on the dress that carried his girl away, and so the dress now stands in the shop, attracting prey.
For Friday Fictioneers, I really like this week’s picture, particularly because I love vintage wear! I love the story each garment can tell; who wore the dress? Why was it thrown away? Was there a first kiss in this dress? Was there a break up?
I had about 10 other ideas for this picture, but since I’m quite late, all my crispy concepts where taken by the time I read through all the brilliant posts. So, I settled for this one. Hope you like it 🙂
Copyright -Claire Fuller
‘What! They left already?’
‘What happened? Was it Peter with his drop-the-ball-down-the-stairs trick?’
‘No, it was Rose.’
‘You know how she gets when Carter floats to the attic to chat up the new ghost…’
‘And Rose got jealous?’
‘Yes. Freaked out. All the lights went berserk. The mortals thought that it was cos the house was old, but then Carter started dancing with the new girl.’
‘And Rose saw?’
‘Yes. She went mental. Crockery started smashing against the walls. Then she started wailing … The whole family was out of the door before Carter gave the new girl a second twirl.’
When I first saw the picture posted by Rochelle for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, I was rushing out of work with my glasses already packed safely in my handbag. I got a whole story going – title and all – by the time I got home. Only now that I downloaded the picture have I realised that it is in fact a church. But the story was done by then and it refused to leave. So there you have it and I hope you enjoy it.
copyright: Dean Tomasek » NATURE » Red Moon
Smoke burned my eyes. Through tears I could see a crimson moon rise from behind the hills, dripping red, shedding blood as it went up, ridding itself from the filth of our victory.
For Trifecta. I posted this just in time! Hope you like it.
I dragged her screaming. But she never prayed for rescue, nor shed a tear. She glared at me; eyes burning in anger not fear. Therein lay her charm. She conquered me. I’m hers.
Copyright: Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon by Scott Appleton)
I gave you 33 words for this Monday’s Trifecta Challenge which is: CHARM (verb) 3: to control (an animal) typically by charms
Though technically I didn’t…I had this done for a Trifextra Challenge a couple of weeks back; the one that had no subject and just said, ‘Give us your best 33 words.’ Do you remember that one? Well I had prepared what by no means did I think were my best 33 words (by the way, thanks for not piling on the pressure on that one, Trifecta!) but they were the best I could do at the time. Then, when I pressed ‘Publish’ nothing happened. I tried and tried. In the end, my tiny story remained in the draft section till today and until I read Draug’s post – which is brilliant and also about dragons – and it was than that I remembered that I have a dragon of my own waiting his turn for a spot on the web.
So there you have it; a back story which is longer than the actual story and a tired writer hoping you’ll like her work.
Good night, you all!
Crack of the door by *Mariana-Vieira
Digital Art / Drawings & Paintings / Fantasy ©2011-2013 *Mariana-Vieira
Her body was sprawled on the floor visible through the heavy door’s open crack. Her eyes were shut, but I knew that face, only, I couldn’t remember how. I couldn’t remember much of anything.
I wanted to see if she was alive; I felt that I needed to. My breathing was getting too fast and too loud, so I held it and stepped closer pushing the door open. But that widening inch sounded like thunder hitting the dark hallway and my hand withdrew from the wood like it had turned white hot.
Footsteps came from my right. The corridor was a long, narrow expanse of darkness, but a golden archway was now rippling forward, lighting the stone, approaching in time with the footfalls. Continue reading