And what a lovely use it was put to! Along with Terrie’s “teeth of needled bone”, Jim’s “ senses congealed then slowly unpeeled” truly exhilarated, and I can do no more than declare both joint winners for the week - thank you both.
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.
The Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 244
ReplyDeleteWith swift, fluid, movements remaining ‘Dillos flanked Sarg.
The skittering knell of paws on loose soil splintered the silent dark as the digger ‘Dillo led the way and spoke over his shoulder ‘we bin moving everyone as far along the tunnel as we can Sarg, an in a bit, we’ll reach the spot where you ordered the tunnel to go in different directions. It’s a bit of a ‘speriment but I got summat t’ show yuh when we git there.'
‘Any idea who got out?’
‘All me diggers, the soldiers in Base burrow, and yer little mousie mate fer sure.’
Once again, such poetry in "The skittering knell of paws on loose soil splintered the silent dark"
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 245
ReplyDeleteA soft, shared, knelling moan echoed from the ranks of the hemmed in gerbils.
Namwec turned. Her eyes sparked in anticipation as she moved in her fluidic hunting dance towards the terrified captives.
The drumming sound finished and the moaning ceased abruptly.
‘Hmm, who shall assist me with my next experiment in the art of torture,’ crooned Namwec.
The gerbils cowered; so did the weasel sentries.
Beside him Atlas felt the tension spreading across Armi’s muscly shoulder.
‘Namwec,’ said a quiet, corpse-cold, voice from within the lean-to, ‘what news of your brothers and that useless fool of a lizard?’
And I'm looking forward to hearing more from that "corpse-cold voice"
DeleteAs with all your entries, Terrie, this, too, is loaded with powerful imagery.
DeleteDawn of the Living Wreaths
ReplyDeleteThe knell of the bells echoed across the village green. A cortege of black hearses passed along the narrow road. On either side the mourners rustled their verdant foliage in reverence as luminous residual fluid from the experiment dripped from the branches of withered trees in glops of sour syrup, fizzing like sherbet as it hit the grass. Half of the local population had perished. The survivors, with gnarly stems for limbs, and scuttling on freshly grown roots, still retained a fragment of humanity. This allowed funerals to be conducted with a semblance of dignity within the weed strangled cemetery.
Mind-blowingly clever and inventive, David
DeleteI echo Sandra's comments, David. "...glops of sour syrup, fizzing like sherbet as it hit the grass"... what a great turn of words.
DeleteForward planning
ReplyDeleteThe single, sonorous knelling of the bell booming from the square tower not 300 yards along the village street would continue for a while. Once for every year my mother lived. I’d made sure of an even number. Having experimented (with a coconut), having timed each back and forth with the saw blade to know each took a mere four seconds, I needed it divisible by four. The slicing through enough of the skull to allow it to leak would take forty-eight strokes. Then the fluid would escape.
Job done.
And silence.
GREAT, Sandra! I was particularly struck by how clearly and powerfully written this is.
DeleteThanks Jim - a departure from my usual.
DeleteGIVING THANKS
ReplyDeleteExchanging bodily fluids can be a lethal experiment – a soundless death knell - for human beings. Thankfully, my partner and I are not human.
Short ... and shockingly, deliciously sweet.
Delete