Saturday, 11 October 2014

Horror Bites #11 The Dance

Her fiery red dress twirled in a blaze as Miranda danced, spinning around the circle, lit only by the meekest appearance of the moon and the fire lit torches. On occasion, Miranda spun so wildly, her dress nearly caught the flame. Her bare feet bled from the rough ground but still she danced. Her olive skin glistened as her ebony hair plastered her face as her wild, dark eyes shone like black diamonds.

Finally, at the first glimpse of dawn, Miranda collapsed at the feet of a young man. Grinning madly, he cradled her in his arms as the crowd dispersed, some with relief etched over their wisened faces.

Looking anxiously up at the approaching day, Miranda knew time was short. And hunger raged deep within her.
“Come, I have a nice room,” Carlos said, trying to lift her.
“No, here,” Miranda replied, rooted to the spot. If Carlos had taken time to look upon Miranda, he would have seen her feet disappear into the earth, her legs become a brittle stem of thorns. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her mouth to his, stifling his cry as her body stiffened. Thick thorns tore through her dress, stabbing into Carlos like he was a pincushion. His blood flowed through the thorns, feeding her as she grew. Her tendrils entwined him in a vice, devouring his soft skin and flesh to a pulp. Carlos could do nothing but watch his body slowly dissolve as her hair enveloped his face, before turning into tendrils of thorns, seeking out the soft flesh inside his skull

As the sun rose, it looked down upon a parched earth where the only moisture surrounded what looked like a decaying tree stump and its branches of plump, crimson thorns.

Written for Horror Bites hosted by .

Monday, 2 June 2014

Horror Bites #5 The Gift

The old woman sat patiently at her stall at the spring fair, watching people passing her by. But she didn’t mind. She knew someone would stop and that was all she needed. Just one.
Sally was that one. She squealed with delight seeing the beautiful brooches glinting in the sun and dragged Arthur by the arm for a closer look.
   “Oh these are beautiful,” Sally sighed looking at the table of moth brooches.
    “Each one is unique,” the old woman said, “but all beautiful. I can find just the right one for you my dear.”
     “Oh please Arthur!” She spied Arthur’s reluctance. “As an early wedding gift, from you to me.”
     Arthur’s face softened and he smiled. “Which ever one you desire Sally.”
     “This one,” the old lady said before Sally had time to look at them all. “This one matches your eyes perfectly,” she said holding up an emerald studded moth set in silver. Sally took the brooch, admiring the detailed silver wings, intricate like lace.
     “I like this one,” Arthur said, holding up a gold moth studded with sapphires, so deep and dark, they almost look black.
     “No. It has to match the eyes!” she said sternly, them more softly, “Men know nothing of jewels.”
      “I want the one to match my eyes,” Sally agreed.
      The old woman pinned it to Sally’s blouse. “There you go, it really suits you my dear. If I were you, I wouldn’t ever take it off, at least not today.” Her wrinkled face creased even more into a toothless smile as Sally and Arthur walked away.
The old woman threw everything into and sack, slung it over her shoulder and left just as Sally’s friends were admiring her brooch. One sale was enough.
Back in her cabin in the deepest, thickest part of the forest, the old woman dusted off an old book before opening it up. The pages turned themselves before stopping at a page showing a picture of the brooch Sally had bought.

Muttering incomprehensible words that only the book could understand, she watched as the picture of the moth faded.

At that moment, Arthur let out an anguished cry as Sally crumpled to the ground, her clothes hanging off her now frail frame, her golden hair was now as dry as straw and fading fast to grey. He watched as the years past in seconds on Sally. Wrinkles upon wrinkles, sunken eyes, like thin skin on a skeleton before she vanished into a pile of dust.

The brooch on her blouse fluttered its wings and flew off, towards the forest as Arthur howled with grief.

The moth landed on the old woman’s tatty robes and she breathed in heavily before looking in the mirror at her young, beautiful self.


Friday, 30 May 2014

Thursday Threads You Know What I Mean?

The drinks came thick and fast yet Lianne wasn’t relaxed despite the row of empty glasses. She’d pay  in the morning, no doubt, but right now, her mind and body needed numbing as she downed another shot.
   “I’m sure Tim would’ve forgotten all about it,” Janice said in a sickly sweet sympathetic voice.
     What did she know? “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lianne sneered. “You weren’t there.”
     “I know but, people have rows all the time, you know what I mean? In the heat of the moment, things are said, you can’t unsay but you can move on. Everything will be fine come morning.”
     Lianne’s hand shook as she picked up a fresh cocktail glass. Nothing was fine and never would be. He said dreadful things, pushed her too far with his accusations of cheating, throwing mistrust at her in the form of a fist. All she wanted was to go out for drinks with Janice, had planned it months in advance, knowing what he was like.
    It was when the second fist came in towards her already bloodied nose, she defended herself, grabbing the first thing she could, hitting him in the forehead. She’d never forget the blank look on his face as his eyes rolled back and a trickle of blood ran down his face before he keeled over, slamming into the floor head first.
   She’d left him exactly where he fell, and as she downed another cocktail, a story had already formed in her mind.


My first Thursday Threads in I don't know how long!!! Visit Siobhan Muir over at The Weird, the Wild and the Wicked for more tales. xx

Thursday, 29 May 2014

5 Sentence Fiction Marriage

Photo by Lizzie Koch on a gorgeous day on the Sussex coast

Zipping up her leather jacket, Gemma waited for the sound of the roaring engine before leaving the house as Carl pulled up; she hopped gracefully on the back, wrapping her arms tight around his waist, enjoying the intimacy of their journey. They sped along the roads, feeling the wind rush past them, as they passed hot and bothered drivers, stuck in queues of traffic, when soon,the scenery changed to a patchwork of green across gentle hills as sheep grazed and the sea came into view, shimmering blue under a cloudless sky.
    Parking up, they sat on the clifftop in each others arms, eating ice cream, not too bothered by the heat of their leather trousers as they relaxed into a comfortable silence; the waves crashing into the white cliffs the only therapeutic sound.
     It was perfect, Gemma’s favourite place, with her favourite person, her soul mate, but it was still a surprise when Carl produced a ring on bended knee.
   She laughed nervously, offering her hand, as Carl slid the ring onto her finger.
written for where you can read other stories on the prompt by other writers. xx

Saturday, 24 May 2014

Anchor 5 Sentence Fiction

Kim lay on the sun drenched deck enjoying sudden spurts of ocean spray, cooling her sizzling skin, before the pirate ship anchored in the lee of a small deserted island.  The gentle lapping of  turquoise waters met a short strip of white sand where a barbecue was already cooking in the shadow of a cluster of palm trees, as Kim began to spray coconut oil all over her already golden skin, determined to make the most of her last day on holiday, wishing she could stay in paradise forever.
       She tried to ignore the history and stories of pirates on the island; stranded by other pirates with nothing more than a pistol and a bottle of rum, turning on each other before going mad with the sun, until panicking voices made her sit up.
       “I've no idea why they’ve sailed away, the tour guide began, “but I’m sure they’re playing some sort of joke and we’ll be back on board in the blink of an eye,” she said, trying to hide the alarm in her voice.
      Staring out to sea, Kim saw the pirate ship appear to get smaller, becoming nothing more than a speck on the horizon as the sun began to sink, casting a shadow of uncertainty and fear across the island and its new inhabitants.

Written for Lillie McFerrin's 5 Sentence Fiction where you can read all the entries. x

Saturday, 10 May 2014

Five sentence fiction Doors

It was turning out to be the most miserable journey home as the wind whipped at Evie’s thin raincoat, constantly swiping her hood down as if it was a game, her face stinging as the wind decided to throw pins at her in the form of rain, howling in her ears like laughter. With every sodden step, Evie was closer to home; a steaming mug of hot chocolate after a long, hot shower, so hot her body would redden, right down to her bones as she would snuggle in front of the telly in her fluffy white socks and pyjamas. She forced a smile at the simple thoughts and pleasures keeping her company, and soon she could see her street, could feel the inviting warmth of home where once inside, she could finally remove her drenched clothing, sticking to her like a second skin.

Her numbing fingers fumbled in her handbag as she approached her front door, the wind not giving up as she stood on her doorstep, already tasting the sweet, milky chocolate, ignoring her hair plastered to her face. Evie’s nonchalant fumble turned to an agitated rummage, before tipping out the entire contents, realising with defeat, her only way in was left on the kitchen table.  

Written for Lillie McFerrin's Five sentence Fiction where you can read the other short stories based on the prompt. x

Sunday, 4 May 2014

Freedom Five Sentence Fiction

It's been a while since I wrote a five sentence fiction story and it was hard!! This week's word is freedom.

Liam sat in the windowless box room, his hands clasped tight, wondering how on earth he came to be in this situation, having always believed in justice, and now relying on twelve strangers to do the right thing.
It was soon time to hear his fate, and Liam was lead out, back up into the courtroom where all eyes fell on him, including hers, the one who had brought him here in the first place, the one who told the vicious lies without flinching or remorse, the one he rejected when she flung herself at him.

The judge uttered his words and Liam’s face paled, his knees buckled under him as he wretched with fear and disbelief, tears rolling down sallow cheeks as freedom was no longer his right. His wife’s agonising howl echoed around the courtroom, making Liam’s heart ache, wanting to hold her, reassure her everything would be alright, he would be strong, he would survive, they would survive the injustice thrown upon them.

But time was no longer his friend and wouldn’t be for the next five years as he was lead from the court with his wife’s cries ringing in his ears.

Written for Lillie Mcferrin's Five Sentence Fiction where you can also read the other stories. xxx