Thank you for the votes on my entry a couple of weeks ago; I've skim-read this week's
Words
for next week: ashes navigate snare
Entries by midnight (GMT) Thursday 21st June, words and winners posted Friday 22nd
Usual rules: 100 words maximum (excluding title) of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above in the genres of horror, fantasy, science fiction or noir. Serialised fiction is, as always, welcome. All variants and uses of the words and stems are fine. Feel free to post links to your stories on Twitter or Facebook or whichever social media you prefer.
Traveler
ReplyDeleteThe ghost of travelers past watched the ash-blonde beauty navigate the streets of Hell. He shouldn’t have brought her. A colossal mistake, he feared.
She seemed disappointed there was no fire and brimstone. Not a hint of sulfurous air. He’d have to persuade her not to tell if she managed to escape.
No mortal had been before. She was the first and his bones rattled at the thought of what the others would think.
Speaking of the others… shit. Her blue eyes danced, reflecting the oncoming blaze. If only this wench hadn’t snared his heart.
“Daddy?” she said.
Nice. Like the idea of a mere mortal trespassing upon a damnable realm.
DeleteI'm wondering just who the girl was referring to when she asked "Daddy?" Also the idea of Hell having streets is quite interesting. Well done, John!
DeleteEntranced by "She was the first and his bones rattled at the thought of what the others would think." - sends shivers down my spine. An intriguing mix of imponderables, possibilities.
DeleteStreets in Hell...are they paved in gold? Devilishly good descriptions. Very good episode.
Deletethis is another of your clever twisty stories, John, you do them so well!
DeleteLove the reference that she is the first mortal to set foot upon this stage and that the lack of fire and brimstone brought disappointment. As Antonia put it so perfectly, "clever" and "twisty." Rather your trademark.
DeleteThe Council
ReplyDelete"After your murder, you approached the Council with a request."
-Yes.
"You wanted that your killer should suffer. In ways that made even the members of this Council uncomfortable. The snare alone…" A shudder shook him.
-Yes, but…
"Mr. Graves, who serves as our Executor, carried out our agreement. "
-And I'm grateful, your Dishonor, but…
"Now you must fulfill your part."
With a sigh, she looked down at her bloody hands, resigned to her fate. The smell of ashes stifled, navigating her damned soul to its inevitable end.
-I understand.
"From henceforth, you shall be known as Bloody Mary."
Very interesting, Jerry! 'your Dishonor... Mr. Graves... Bloody Mary' very novel and creative! Well done!
DeleteThe implication here is of something much larger.
DeleteA good example of being careful what you wish for. Now she has to pay the piper. Nice one Jerry. A novel concept indeed.
DeleteI love Bloody Mary, she in the history of my vampire story. Now, just who was on this council? A marvelous story, Jerry.
Deletethis is also a clever story, good reading this week!
DeleteSo nicely composed and such an enjoyable read. I particularly liked the idea of ashes being stifling.
DeleteI see how the "Daddy" reference is confusing. Dang. She's referring to the oncoming blaze.
ReplyDeleteUnnecessary Oscar performance [Threshold 254]
ReplyDeleteI only needed to be barefoot, ashes in my hair, to convince of penitent seeking prayer and a life of purity and devotion, but childhood trepidation hampered navigation of the maze of truth and lies: I needed to be sure of avoiding some permanent entrapping snare. Speaking as distressed high-born, I spun a tale of kidnap, imprisonment and (avoiding the actual word) rape. Hinted at monetary benefits in return for sanctuary and silence.
Unworldly, they bought it, which I put down to my acting ability until they said, ‘You are the sixth to have been attacked so,’ accurately describing Torc-man.
I kind of take comfort in that she is among some others that may help, but I think there may be more difficulties with this bunch. A rather lengthy step forward in the tale, I believe. Loved when she said, 'they bought it.'
DeleteMaze of trut and lies, was a very good line. Good tight writing.
DeleteAt times even the most thorough planning - not to mention acting ability - goes for naught. An original and entertaining entry, Sandra!
Deletein depth, interesting instalment. Good one, Sandra!
DeleteThis episode was so rich with images, especially that of sackcloth and ashes. Our protagonist is really some actress...and of such tender years too if my memory of age serves correctly.
DeleteChange of focus [332]
ReplyDeletePaying unnatural attention to the airline’s catalogue of duty-free bargains John Pettinger navigated his labyrinthine memory to locate the precise circumstances pertaining to the crime perpetuated by the bloke sat beside him.
Eventually recollected a crematorium. A screw-top urn of ashes. Supposedly the holder’s dear-departed mother.
In actuality, not.
They’d successfully confiscated the urn, proved its contents less that 100% human (in fact, 70% heroin) but had become badly tangled in the zig-zag snare of trips and middle-men and failed to satisfactorily prove its provenance.
Today, black tie and lugubrious expression, implied another sad loss. Pettinger opted to play pallbearer.
You set up future encounters with the bloke sitting beside JP very nicely. I'm not sure if he's an eclectic drug mule or something more... likely the latter. We'll find out soon, I'm sure.
DeleteYou continue to impress, Sandra, with how much you pack into a mere 100 words. A talent I'm trying to learn.
Deletelabyrinthine memory is another excellent descriptive. A well written episode.
Deletethere's intrigue for you, Sandra style.
DeleteThis took me along an exceptional tale-telling path this week. So much here to enjoy. The contents of the urn and the idea of a "labyrinthine memory." Now how inventive is that? I continue to hold high my banner that reads: "Pettinger Rules!"
DeleteThe Children’s Crusade
ReplyDeleteThe ugly boy with the snare drum and the suppurating eye was like a post-apocalyptic Pied Piper. Dozens of feral children followed him, riding blast charred tricycles, filthy legs churning the peddles as they doggedly navigated the rolling drifts of radioactive ash.
We watched nervously from the rooftops, the incessant rattle of that infernal drum accenting the mournful wail of the wind.
A shiver grips me, remembering our first encounter. If we’d had an inkling of their capacity for cruelty, each and every one of us would have opened fire on those damned kids right there and then.
'snare drum' - how clever. And what a world you have created, yet again. Do you write novel-length stuff? because the weight of your work implies you ought.
DeleteWhat a frightful image you created, David - feral kids on the loose! Reminded me of "Children of the Corn." Very nice!
DeleteYou have a way with little tidbits that add so much to the story: blast charred tricycles, infernal drum, mournful wail of the wind... all so wonderful.
DeleteI have a great love for post-apocalyptic stories and this would make a great longer piece. You have merely whetted my appetite. great writing.
DeleteI'm not the only one who uses history for their stories. Blast charred tricycles. Very good story David.
DeleteI like this a lot, outstanding descriptions carrying us into a horror world.
DeleteNow I do believe this is the original horrific format for all those well-loved (and watered down) children's fairy tales. As such, this was classic from start to finish with images vivid enough to grace any nightmare.
DeleteThe Shapeshifter Chronicles: Awakening
ReplyDeleteThree needles had injected their contents, hours ago. Eyes that hadn’t blinked in thousands of years did so and were snared by the light of a super moon. They heard a voice.
Wake my children. It’s time to resume our rightful place in the food chain. Retrieve our broken home.
Anubis, Tezcatlipoca, and Morrighan enjoyed life surging through their bodies, again. The draw of the objects made navigating their buildings easier.
The ashes and burnt out shells of The National Museum of Wales, National Space Science Centre, and London’s Natural History Museum greeted the morning sun.
This is good, Jeffrey. I loved the first two sentences. They really set the tone. An Egyptian god, an Aztec god and a Celtic god, very clever. Of course, I didn't know that until I googled them, but I never claimed to be an intellectual.
DeleteOh so much to take in here. Really good work.
DeleteNice references to actual places of interest and a nice description of awakenings.
DeleteI appreciate your following and enjoying this new series.
DeleteQuarry
ReplyDeleteWhen traps are set, there are no guarantees as to what will be snared. Depends upon navigational skills and maneuverability of the individual species. The crater of smouldering ash claims many victims, as does the tried-and-true trip wire, but the camouflaged spike pit is old hat now and has really outlived its usefulness.
Of course, chance plays a large part in the process yet despite their assumed intelligence in such matters, humans are the specimens most frequently captured.
It likely is the humans who have the most mishaps with traps. They can be dodgy. One trick I learned with smouldering ash pits, is to place several peas in the center. When an animal comes to take a pea, you kick it in the ash hole.
DeleteThose feckless humans.
DeleteOh, John...!!!
Delete::::shakes head::::
Yes indeed, Oh, John. :(
DeleteAnd so many ways to catch a cat. Or not.
Could the story be a trap? It's caught several comments already. Well done Patricia.
Deletelots of nasties and then the revelation, clever one, Patricia!
DeleteGive It A Rest
ReplyDeleteAshes to ashes. Dust to dust. Blah. Blah. Blah.
Wish they'd navigate away from the same damned jargon every once in a while. Snare them something a bit more modern. In short, an updated script. That would be nice.
Must have listened to this droning speech hundreds...thousands...maybe millions...of times now.
Wonder if any other corpses in this cemetery never lost their sense of hearing.
I love this. Absolutely. Gave me a laugh when I reached the final part. And a chill.
DeleteA bored corpse... brilliant. High entertainment with this, Patricia.
DeleteHugely original and entertaining
DeleteCould be a top tier choice for this week, Patricia. It's funny, very original and thought provoking.
Deleteabsolutely brilliant!
DeleteNOT SO TRUE LOVE
ReplyDeleteTeresa Main sat propped upon pillows in her bed. “I’m not the woman I was, Pete.”
“Sure you are, Babe. This illness that has snared you will pass.”
“Pass?” Teresa laughed hoarsely. “I’m thin as a rail; my face is ash-gray. I’m dying.”
“Nonsense, Sweetheart. We’ve navigated tougher waters than this together.”
Teresa scoffed. “Together? So, you’re drinking the same poison you’ve been feeding me?”
“What?! You can’t mean that!” Pete’s feigned surprise was unconvincing.
Teresa pulled a pistol from the covers and put a round into Pete’s opened mouth. “Like I said, Pete. I’m not the woman I was.”
Good for her. Very satisfying ending... shot right in the open mouth. Good stuff, Jim.
DeleteA tale of sweet revenge. Nice.
DeleteBitter indeed.
DeleteWell, I guess Pete died of lead poisoning. I really liked this story.
Deletethat was unexpected and - shall I say, deserved?
DeleteI will always grab any opportunity to announce, "You go, girl!"
DeleteThe last shebang
ReplyDeleteThe ox lay still, flies buzzing around oozing sad eyes. Christian would navigate no further. The ashes of his villagers silently seethed in barrels on the cart.
He located one of their pit snares and found a young boy, the son of his enemy’s leader cowering in the dirt. Christian extended a hand and pulled the boy up. He let him run away and lugged each barrel to the pit.
As he dumped the ashes, he prayed his act of compassion would appease. Instead, an enemy arrow buried in his back and he fell inward, soaking his villagers with blood.
As the saying goes "Nice guys finish last." You always come up with such interesting plots, John. This is no exception.
DeleteThe descriptions here are superbly done!
DeleteSelf-delusion and misguided optimism. Point vividly made.
DeleteNice guys are heroes or the enemy chief's son would be dead. Arrow in the back or a cross on a hill.
Deleteice cold horror.
DeleteNo good deed and all that. Many sad images here, none more so than an ox with flies buzzing around its oozing eyes.
DeleteKursaal (Episode One Hundred Sixty Eight) -
ReplyDelete"The Amorous Affairs Of Arbuthnot Jester/Part Twelve"
Lothario? Undoubtedly!
Philanderer? No question!
Nevertheless, a certain exotic snake-charmer had snared the heart of Arbuthnot Jester. The affair was brief yet all-consuming...to Arby anyway...but he never navigated Manasa's affections away from Maximillian Corviday. This unique experience was possibly why Manasa remained so unforgettable.
On rare occasions, she still invited him to spend the evening. Acceptance a given, regardless of other plans, he basked in her presence and watched ash from her campfire spark and shimmer in the moonlight, much like the stars in his own eyes.
Nearby, Primrose Lee (ex-ladylove) observed the intimate tête-à -tête.
Sometimes pining.
And sometimes plotting.
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To read the earlier installments (a suggestion only) which led to this point in the tale, please visit:
http://www.novareinna.com/kursaal.html
A link to return to "The Prediction" can be found on the site. Thank you.
---------------------------------------------------------
NOTE: Arbuthnot Jester, Manasa the Snake-Charmer, Maximillian Corviday and Primrose Lee have all featured in previous episodes.
Pining and plotting, would be an interesting title for a diary. Lovely opening lines.
DeleteHell hath no fury ... and I don't doubt we'll find out what Primrose is plotting in due course.
DeleteI wonder if Primrose's wrath will be taken out on Arby or Manasa? Either way should be fun, for the reader that is. Nicely done.
DeleteI loved the comparison of the campfire's ash to the stars in Arby's eyes... a beautiful image, Patricia.
Deleteit's a given that she's plotting - and who can blame her?
DeleteDawn watcher
ReplyDeleteToo late for regret, the ashes of your letters I’d last night so impetuously burned lay in drifts across the stone-flagged floor, last night’s wind, breathing down the chimney, having wafted them from the grate. The cat further scattered them, daintily navigating from hearth-cushion to the barely-open window, where her squeezing through, snagging herself on spiders’ web left her festooned with stickiness.
She never learned.
No more did I, snared once more by the coincidence of your arrival with the new-fledged moon, even as the firelight died.
Now, similarly sticky, I stood, quilt-wrapped, at the window.
Awaiting your waking.
Again.
kind of eerie and romantic at the same time. Beautifully crafted writing, Sandra. Very literary.
DeleteSo many striking images, Sandra. ',,,wind, breathing down the chimney,'...snagging herself on spiders' webs' to cite a couple. Really well done!
DeleteHave to say "Thank you" for your kind comments - it's only occasionally I can call up this style of writing and regrettably not to order. Wish I could.
Deletethis really draws the reader in, looking for more.
DeleteMagnificence incarnate. Wonderful wording, wonderful composition and amazing images. I particularly liked the idea of a cat "festooned with stickiness." This came with a dark and brooding romantic feel.
DeleteBeautiful, descriptive, and foreboding. The mystery is, who(what?) is she waiting to wake up?
ReplyDeleteThe First Battle: Plans Made
ReplyDeleteStelkhar examined the map. Five assaults along the entire line at the same time. They don’t have enough artillery to concentrate on just one or two. My remaining jump troops have been practicing on other hills to navigate in two jumps, the plateau, and land behind them, catching them in our snare. The water that kills will be called The Ashen Tears of Khalzep.
A deliverer of thoughts entered the command dome.
“Convey the thoughts.”
“The navy is leaving the system. Lift wings will be arriving in two claws. Win, die, or be ready to leave by then.”
Ashen Tears sounds appropriate for a dire situation, plus an innovative way to use a prompt word. Good one, Jeffrey.
Delete'A deliverer of thoughts' is such a great concept, Jeffrey.
DeleteThere is no doubt you know how to create images of warfare, Jeffrey.
DeleteThanks to all three of you for you positive and kind comments.
DeleteStop the Week; I Want to Get Off (52)
ReplyDeleteComputer back, then the keyboard diedl. I borrowed the shop keyboard whilst waiting for another to arrive, then discovered Word had stopped working... my publisher says his computer went down too, due to Microsoft updates leaving his work day in ashes. Microsoft is a snare we cannot avoid. We just need to navigate the muddy world of updates as best we can. What fun... difficult to run any kind of business without technology which tends to let us down regularly. Customers have been buying, it looks better than it has done for some time. Will it last? Who knows?
Word did a wobble with my 2/3 weeks ago - thought I'd lost all my work, but it came back ~36 hours later. Perhaps I should offer a trio of sunshine, profit and cash-loaded customers to try and improve your week.
DeleteI miss the old days. But not always. Sometimes it's so dang nice to order from Amazon and have it arrive a couple days later without going out and looking for it. But then, when the cable goes out, chaos...
DeleteMicrosoft is a snare, what a very good observation. Glad that business is on the upswing for you.
Deletemain cause of my problems? damaged external hard drive. Or just worn out. Either/or, the technician came to the house to check it out and then found the problem. I should be OK for a while. I have another external drive to plug in when I need to save documents.
DeleteI often wonder how the world became so dependent upon technology that the earlier arts are all but forgotten. When things go wrong, we can be totally disabled. Still, happy to see that your sales have picked up nicely. As always, a different and unique take on the week's prompt words.
DeleteThe Mad Italian (111)
ReplyDeleteThere is pleasure in watching the potential leaders walk into snares and not be able to navigate their way out. I see them evading questions, concocting answers, most of which will end up as ashes on their tongue in the future, for no one forgives or forgets a politician who does not mean what they say - and I ask, how many actually do? I see problems a-plenty for the country and for the individual political parties, their standing with the electorate is eroding fast and they are doing nothing to stop the decline. They are quick to shout but - ?
Yes, there are a few who try and walk their talk because they believe and therein lies hope.
DeleteI always look forward to our weekly dose of wisdom from Leonardo. He never fails to be both accurate and humorous.
DeleteSadly, Antonia, politicians walking into snares and becoming hopelessly entangled is the rule rather than the exception - both here and across the pond.
DeletePolitics as usual it seems. I wonder if we'll ever get away from it? No shortage of material for the Italian though.
ReplyDeleteToo many fires to put out these few days to even think about a Cripplegate Episode this week, but I will return before the end of the day with comments. To quote one of my mother's sayings: "Give me strength!"
ReplyDeleteThat should read, "put out these PAST few days..."
Delete