It took a while to decide which pieces should go in this first of two volumes - very difficult not to pick out my favourites! But chosen they are, and the order too. The cover is ready. Now all I need to do is prepare the front matter, the table of contents and acknowledgements before a final edit sweep.
Very excited now!
Winner of Last Week's Prediction Challenge
Thank you for sticking with the Prediction while I was having to take some 'personal time'. Your support is much appreciated.
I found the words quite trying, I must confess so was particularly impressed with what you came up with. And so... my winner is Dion Winton-Polak's classic horror Darwin's Mirror. I found this beautifully-written vignette absolutely riveting, my heart shuddered in fear and sadness. Congratulations Dion - a stunning write.
Runner-up is Sandra Davies. Red Magic evoked a sensation of Victorian occult theatricals, and I was totally absorbed. Great penning. Well done Sandra.
Words for 02 March 2012
Oof; this old book is getting heavy! Or perhaps my strength is failing. What will my fingers find, I wonder...
- Negotiate
- Cleanse
- Cage
Are you ready? Go!
Rules
The rules are: 100 words max flash fiction or poetry using all of the words above. Please add your entries in the Comments box below. You have until 9pm UK time on Thursday 8th March 2012 to enter.
The winner will be announced on Friday 9th March. If you can, please tweet about your entry, using the #fridayflash hashtag, and blog if you feel like it. Do give feedback to your fellow Predictioneers - we all appreciate it.
The South East of England is swathed in fog right now, a perfect horror setting. What will creep from your mists...?
___________________________________
Good grief - and thank you very kindly Lily - this was one challenge I never expected to be rated in, although I was delighted you picked up on the Victorian theatricals. No mist in Teesside at the moment but we are heading to Suffolk for the weekend - I'll see what emanates from a seventeenth century blacksmith's cottage ...
ReplyDeletemany congratulations Dion and Sandra, both worthy winners!
ReplyDeleteLily, good words this week, might be a tad easier than the last ones but I have to say I am amazed at the variations we all came up with!
Well done, Dion, and congrats to Sandra. I promise to comment on everyone's stories this week. There's a bit more normality in my life now. Be back later with Part 7 of The Package...hopefully!
ReplyDeleteCongratulations to Dion and Sandra. Tasty words this week. :-)
ReplyDeleteAm I first? Goodness!
ReplyDeleteMenstruetta
Sarah’s lips swell with the spittle of shame. The blood between her legs hasn’t stopped since father caged her, his hands filthy with the flow. All negotiations with God are one-sided; what else can she do?
Knowing herself to be possessed by the Devil – Sarah begs to confess.
***
“May your soul be cleansed, heathen – lest you fail to enter God’s realm.”
***
Her legs are bare within a skirt of wood. Splinters scrape at her thighs. Sarah shivers at the tickle of creeping flames and wishes she hadn’t killed her mother. After all, she never asked to be born.
Dark ,disturbing and delish! Love this piece, Lily. Well done.
DeleteOnce again your work is so colorful. There are definitely questions to be answered. I really feel for this young lady. One wonders if this is the beginning or the end. Your stories are very brave and lovely.
DeleteMarietta Miles
Ahh... Lily... your words... water to a desert traveler too long without... let me sup for a few moments...
DeleteBrilliant... as always... "all negotiations with God are one-sided..."... the girl's bitter resignation is the perfect 'voice'!
There is a poignancy in the girl's regret... as the witches wood burns... over killing her mother.
Brava! :)
cold and biting in turns, wonderful stuff, Lily!
DeleteLily, this hits so hard and it has so many layers. Really enjoyed this dark piece.
DeleteThat was like being thrown in a sheep-dip and climbing out into the 12 century. Roasted girl child anyone?
DeleteWell that really grabs you hard and slaps you around the face! The whole thing resonates with anguish and pain, mental and physical.
DeleteChilling stuff. Truly horrific.
DeleteJust a quick promo - regular Predictioneer Anthony Cowin has a deliciously wicked new horror tale THE GOOD BOY up at Thrillers Killers 'n' Chillers. Why not take a mosey over, have a read and give Tony some feedback?
ReplyDeleteThanks!
Thanks for the shout out Lily. Also cheers for supporting me and the story.
DeleteOK, I've written part 7 of The Package but will post it later in the week. In the meantime...
ReplyDeleteIt's Showtime
The atmosphere was electric as I negotiated my way through the excited crowd.
Tonight the world of unlicensed fighting was in for a treat.
I was new to the area so unrated and down as the underdog, something I relished.
I was fighting the current champion, Ronny “Rottweiler” Brooks, an ex-priest who’d said he was going to cleanse my soul before sending me to Hell.
I entered the cage and walked to the centre to touch gloves but was taken down by a dirty punch.
The crowd went wild, while outside a full moon was rising.
“It’s showtime,” I growled.
~End.~
Bliss in a box, this is brilliant David. Nothing like a shapeshifter to get me howling, and this 'underdog'/werewolf(?) does it in droves. Brilliant - full scale novel needed, methinks.
DeleteDear David,
DeleteI too am a sucker for shapeshifters. This guy has an excellent personality. "cleanse my soul and send me to hell." Very cool. Cannot wait for the next The Package install.
Marietta Miles
Echoing Lily here, David... this wants to be a full novel!
DeleteExcellent word-craft...
I love this line -
"an ex-priest who’d said he was going to cleanse my soul before sending me to Hell."
I had my reply ready but Blogger refused to co operate of course... I thought this was tremendous, you could almost sense the atmosphere in the place!
DeleteThrowing unlicensed fighting with a werewolf? Genius! I get hyped up every time I read this. I want, no need, more!
DeleteRonnie "The Rottweiler" ex priest...you couldn't make this up.Oh wait you did. Great stuff David.
DeleteGood stuff, David. Great finish... and a solid supporting character in the ex-priest, would love to know more of his story. =)
DeleteA real vibrancy to this piece, a delicious charisma and relish. Good stuff.
DeleteThe Rottweiler ex priest is a brilliant touch. Reminded me of Being Human. You should script this and get it to the Beeb.
DeleteDear Lily,
ReplyDeleteIt was a pleasure to read last week's stories and replies. Both winner's were excellent choices. Red Magic brings shades of Paris, San Francisco, New Orleans...lush and violent. I wonder who was in the audience. Darwin's Mirror made me angry and sad. A very thoughtful story. Thanks again for the hard work Lily.
Marietta Miles
First time entry ... Entitled "Death or Glory"
ReplyDeleteThe three men stood, staring out into the fog, realising they were trapped like rats in a cage. The cliffs to either side of them were too steep to climb, and the rock fall had cut off the path behind them. They could only go forward, which meant fighting their way through the horde of savage Dark Orcs quickly heading towards them.
A guttural roar came from the Orc leader, “I’ll cleanse the land with your blood” he screamed.
“I don’t think they want to negotiate” Tek said, gripping his war axe, dropping to a crouched fighting stance. “Charge’ em”
Such a neat and tidy tale this.
DeleteAn atmospheric first time entry, Ronnie, that oozes imagery. Well done!
DeleteThanks Guys ... May have over played "War in the North" on the Xbox this week.....
DeleteLove the imagery here... dripping dark and horror..
DeleteWelcome to The Feardom Ronnie. I love the Fight or Die courage that surges through this hopeless scenario. You've captured the atmosphere and emotions of the situation really well. Great writing.
Deletesuperb first entry, will be looking for more from you, Ronnie!
DeleteWelcome Ronnie. What a great first entry. Your words create a movie in my head.
DeleteHello Ronnie, Good first entry, keep em coming.
DeleteHeh, with a name like that I would expect humorous fantasy, and you deliver! ;D
DeleteGood to see a bit of classic fantasy popping up. I fancy grabbing an axe and joining in. *sucker for a last stand, me*
DeleteAgree with all of the above, fantastic first time story. A great fantasy vignette packed with tension, conflict and dilemma.
DeleteWhat variety again! And here is mine:
ReplyDeleteThe blacksmith’s wife
Caged by guilt and shadowed bars of branding irons, breasts and belly besmirched by centuries of soot from the roof-supporting pillar he had lashed me to, I remained defiant. “Do you want the world to know?”
His eyes were anthracite-implacable. “I guarantee you won’t lie down for another man. Fire is cleansing, all that is negotiable is the letter. Tell me before I gag you, do you choose A or W?”
“’Adulteress’ more accurate.”
He had ever admired my honesty, my spirit, but once again I had failed to think my answer through.
“But ‘whore’ the shortest word.”
Ouch!! It's nice to have a 'man scorned' story from one of the ladies. Well done, Sandra. A great piece!
DeleteOuch, Good imagery Well done Sandra
DeleteOh, this is delicious, Sandra!
Delete"... anthracite-implacable..." Wow! Love that!
Ha! You promised us a Blacksmith's tale, and boy did you deliver. I can feel the heat from the smith's eternal fire raging, just waiting to caress the A or W.
DeleteThe wife's vitriol is so vicious, yet she admits to guilt. So much going on here - I absolutely love it.
As an aside, I have several generations of blacksmiths in my family and already have a novel-length saga outlined based on them. I love that smiths work with the gifts of fire and earth. Glorious magic.
so much back story here and so much potential for more, go write! Brilliant dialogue.
DeleteSandra, this is fabulous. The imagery here makes me feel the heat of both the forge and his anger. The characters are so real. I loved it.
DeleteHello Sandra, Beautifully written,I liked this a lot.
DeleteAn excellent little scene, a broken couple's bitter familiarity and recrimination drawn down a very dark path.
DeletePhenomenal story-telling here. Great atmosphere, tight plot, well sketched character, toying with the readers morality and sympathy, then BAM! Killer ending. I doff my hat to you, milady.
DeleteA real baptism of fire. Oozing with suggested imagery and well built characters. Great ending too.
DeleteThank you, kind sirs - and I am mortified that I omitted to write the more correct 'shorter' rather than 'shortest' ...
ReplyDeleteCongratulations, Dion and Sandra... wonderful little slices!
ReplyDeleteOkay... I've been away a while, so a little rusty... but here goes... can't swim without getting wet, right?
Diving in with...
3 A.M.
Dark dungeon… her familiar cage
Stone walls echo her dripping misery…
Skittering sounds mock her ceaseless thrashing
Heartbeat darkly pounding in her useless rage
Imprisoned in filth and sweat… tortured hours on end
Haunting the blood of her fevered brain without mercy…
Three words chasing away the sleep that wants in
Piteous cry… what have I to negotiate?
What will bring peace to this suffering soul?
Does the drawer in hand’s reach promise only self-hate?
Spoon and needle… waiting in bedside table
Liquid fire to cleanse vertiginous thoughts
It’s only a hundred bloody words, girl…
Surely you are able?
And what a return! Veronica Marie, this is a harrowing but superb trauma, punctured with rhyme. The parallel between the tempted addict and the 'rusty' writer made me shiver - truly. Really clever, and perfect proof that once it's in your blood - whatever 'it' is - it never lets you go. Excellent.
Deletethis is superb, no doubt about it. Rhythms and images that refuse to go.
DeleteLily's 'proof' so apt, and "Liquid fire to cleanse vertiginous thoughts" superb.
DeleteWelcome back Veronica. I've so missed you and your writing style. Loved this piece.
DeleteI am honored by your words, Lily... thank you very much!
DeleteThis one came to me in the middle of the night... hence the title. I'd been 'worrying' the words earlier in the evening, but they weren't doing what I wanted - I thought 'negotiate, cleanse, and cage'would be perfect for another slice of zombie horror... but... the words apparently had something else in mind.
Anyway... I'd woken around three in the morning and got up to get a drink of water. There on the bedside table... 'calling' me... my little blue notebook...
You are so right, Lily... 'it' doesn't let you go!
Antonia, Sandra, MuckieDuckie... Thank you all, so very much! I am thrilled you like it.
It is great to be back!
What a return to the fray, Veronica. So many great lines. Excellent!!
DeleteHello Veronica, you worked some magic into this piece.
DeleteBrilliant.
Thank you, David! I may have to do more of my writing in the middle of the night... :)
DeleteMatching the addict's tribulations to a nightmarish dungeon is so well done, and twisting that to a writer's torment just makes it all the more personal... ;)
DeleteThere must be something about the mid-night write that really frees the imagination. Your language is so free-flowing and delirious here. Beautifully done.
DeleteWhoa....really superb writing and imagery in this. In just a few words and lines you vividly capture the agony and torment raging inside each addict.
DeleteVery well done-
KM
Shaun, Kevin, John and Dion -
DeleteThank you so much for your generous words - the 'witching hour' does seem to bring a freeing to my mind... if writing be an addiction, may I never lose the sweet agony of its torment. :)
I've posted mine on my blogs and tweeted to #fridayflash as well
ReplyDeletehttp://veronicathepajamathief.wordpress.com/2012/03/05/lilychildsfeardom-blogspot-com-lilys-friday-prediction-for-march-2-2012-3-a-m/
World Shivers
ReplyDeleteMegan lay beneath folded concrete. Pinned under its crushing weight, her ribcage compressed. Sucking opaque air through battered lips, lips willing to negotiate to beg and pray.
The world shivers again, adrenalin drains from clammy flesh, grey twilight feeds tunnel vision.Steel tendons groan,
“Please, please help me, I don’t want to die alone,” her whispered mantra.
Icy water flows from ruptured conduits, finding its own release. A furry body collides with her face, tiny claws seeking purchase on her skin. She screams.
The rat squeaks, recoiling, desperate to outrun the cleansing fire that follows close on its tail.
Great writing SK. This tale is stark and horrible. I was hoping that Megan would be found and saved. Then you hit with the whammy of a more immediate danger. I was left wondering how Megan came to be in her situation, please expand.
DeleteHell Shaun - this is Hell under Earth. Absolutely terrifying. I am made completely claustrophobic by the crushing concrete and lack of air. "Sucking opaque air through battered lips" is a beautiful line. Brilliant - your writing just gets better and better.
DeleteHarrowing, Shaun. You've shown us so much in such a short piece of writing. Well done, buddy!
DeleteSuch dark and horrific imagery in a mere handful of words... excellent wordcraft, SK!
DeleteSuch wonderful lines... "folding concrete... steel tendons groan... outrun the cleansing fire..."
This is claustrophobic and dark... and then you throw in a rat. Horrifying. Great piece.
DeleteMan, I'm short enough on breath as it is with this wretched chest infection without you giving me panic attacks. Claustrophobia,dwindling hope, rats AND fire. You are an evil man.
DeleteHave a cigar :-D
Shaun I loved this- 'folded concrete'.What a great description, full of movement and impending death. Suffocation stories always freak me out and this was a belter.
Deleteshivers indeed, this cuts to the heart, how many of us carry that fear of dying alone? Great.
ReplyDeleteNot just the dying alone - the rat - o horror!
DeleteAnonymous
ReplyDeleteEach flash of the Polaroid startled his eyes into retreat.
And each swing of the bat rocked his head, spraying thick, ruddy globules across his living room.
Every time she’d updated her blog, he’d mocked and picked at her every word with a spiteful claw; caged by namelessness and cowardice, unaware that every click he made left an indelible trace for months.
Eventually she tracked him. There’d be no negotiation.
Photos littered his floor; unrecognisable mulched flesh, his identity cleansed.
The sound of hickory reverberated against bone.
She smiled. ‘Careful who you pick fault with. Could cost you dearly...’
Crikey Moses, this is insidiously alarming - sounds as well as sights, and the 'caged by namelessness' perfectection.
DeleteOoh, ooh, ooh Ally - apart from the superb writing, as always - this must touch a nerve for all of us that blog. I hope this isn't true, and certainly that it is not a 'Prediction'. Love Sandra's comment "insidiously alarming" - I totally agree.
DeleteHave you, or anyone else read Joanne Harris's blueeyedboy? That's all I'm saying.
Yes I have and yes, this is brilliant writing!
DeleteAlly, this is so close to real life. A great use of the words is this piece. Great job!
DeleteThank you all.
DeleteJust to say that this is based in truth, and it's from a very personal perspective, that's all I'm saying...
I haven't read JH, Lily, but I'll put it on my list.
AJ this is so dark and hits a nerve with me from my younger years. I love your entries.
DeleteThat was hard hitting, (Ouch sorry) Almost casual brutality, shocking and impressive writing.
DeleteI think the most chilling of this is the almost 'matter-of-factness' in the girl's telling and the cold fury in which she metes out 'justice'.
DeleteThat last line though... to borrow your line... those words reverberated in my head like 'hickory on bone'!
Brava, AJ!
Brutal. But I'd expect no less from you, AJ. The harmful vitriol that is dished out under the protection of anonymity can sometimes feel like it deserves this brand of justice.
DeleteA harsh reminder of the harm that words can do. Wonderfully written, deeply disturbing and worryingly satisfying.
Delete(Note to self - never EVER find fault with AJs work...)
Disbursement of Sin
ReplyDeleteWhen the smell of lavender reached him, it turned the confessional into a cage.
“Father, will you cleanse my soul.”
Her voice was a purr, threatening delicious violence.
“I had fun at a party, there were such beautiful things that I had to keep them. Wanna see?”
“Mademoiselle Marchand, will you require payment again?” His voice trembled.
Her nails scratched at the grille and she gave a light laugh.
“Oh Father, you know there’s no negotiating.”
He paled; ashamed he covered his face with the eight fingers of his hands. Whispered yes.
“Excellent.” Marie smiled. “See you tonight.”
Fantastically disturbing opening sentence, and the rest did not fail it - superb.
DeleteMD, this is so delicious I am purring myself. It drips with wickedness, with temptation... with debauch. Mademoiselle Marchand is a delight. Where else will she take us? Divine evocation - I adore it.
Deleteso elegantly written and conveying so much that remains unsaid and we imagine it ..
DeleteMD - I'd like to read more about this Mademoiselle Marchand. I have a feeling she has a lot of stories to tell. Great piece of writing!!
DeleteI don't know if it's clear, but Mademoiselle Marchand is the same Marie from "Party Guest". She's been adding to her initial collection.
DeleteWayward priests and sinful women,perfect.
DeleteYou leave me breathless, MD... a delicious breathless as my eyes devour your words... I love this line...
Delete"Her voice was a purr, threatening delicious violence. "
Wicked, dripping sin... Madamoiselle Marchand is a delight to read! What was it Lily said... left her purring? Yes, once I got my breath back!
Now this sent shivers through me. Thrilling. Dark. Enthralling.
DeleteLuscious little vignette. Got me grinning and thinking about sinning. 40 Hail Mary's and a bit of flagellation I think...
DeleteLadies (apologies Messieurs) This came up on a group I belong to on Facebook that might interest you:
ReplyDeleteWomen Horror Writers Anthology Call for Submissions
http://www.darkmoonbooks.com
Submission Guidelines:
• DEADLINE: June 30th, 2012
• PAYMENT: Authors will receive one complimentary copy of the anthology and payment of $20.00.
• Submissions should fall between 1500-6000 words, but a few words over or under is fine. However, submissions that are excessively long will not be considered.
More info guidelines and info at http://www.darkmoonbooks.com/Mistresses_of_the_Macabre.htm
Oohh... if I didn't have so much going on the next few months... I would love to flex my 'horror muscle'... see if I've got something more than the occasional 100 word 'bites'... haha!
DeleteI'll keep this in mind though... if, by some miracle... perhaps something on the lower end of the word counts...
The Package, Part 7.
ReplyDeleteNot only did I have to negotiate getting past the police, I had Frankie Jones’s thug on my tail.
“Who are you?” Venus asked.
“My name isn’t important at the moment. Let’s get out of here and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Who’s sent you?” she asked.
“Later.”
“It’s him isn’t it?”
I ignored her and caught sight of the thug. He scowled at me, the veins in bald head ready to explode. He looked like a caged animal.
I diverted towards a throng of commuters, dragging Venus with me.
I would cleanse the world of Frankie’s thug later.
...to be continued
This must be how Dickens' fans felt, desperate for the next hit of teasing fiction from a brilliant writer. I hope, dear David that you've scoped this out - because I'll come after you if not ;-) Loved it.
DeleteThanks, Lily, and the answer is no. I have no idea where this is going until you give those 3 little words on a Friday morning. I must say, though, the next episode does come to me very quickly so somewhere in the old grey matter I must be thinking about it.
DeleteDavid, I hate to admit this, but I haven't been able to keep up with "The Package". It's a wonderful story and each part I do read is wonderful on its own. Do you have a place where I can read it straight through? If so, please direct me to it!
DeleteDavid, I'm inspired by this stand-alone but continuing tale because I have a feeling (desire?) to do something similar with my blacksmith ... we shall see. I love the matter-of-fact distractedness in this conversation.
DeleteIs this a ploy to keep me coming back week after week? If so it is working:-) keep em coming, David
DeleteOh my... what a beautiful little tease!
DeleteYou had me at "Frankie Jones' thug on my tail...
Okay, where's the rest?
:)
I am thoroughly impressed that you keep this serial going, and include the three words, and manage to keep it so consistently, nail-bitingly, good. Please keep it up! =)
Deleteagreed - top notch entertainment. I find it hard to judge individual pieces but I keep wanting to read more. Keep up the good work.
Deleteup to my eyes in mailings, in letters and in editing (paid, I hasten to add) but stopped long enough to write this:
ReplyDeleteJudgment Day
So you have come to negotiate with me, huh? You want to break free of the cage in which your spirit is confined, the cage of flesh and bone. Am I right?
Of course I am.
You ask for cleansing and forgiveness. You ask that all past sins be forgiven.
Now tell me, why should I grant this to you? What have you done to deserve mercy? Did I not see the killing lust you carried? You even claimed, in your weak short life, that I did not exist.
But I do. I am the Devil. Welcome to hell.
Negotiate with Old pointy face. Ha. Silly boy.I Like it Antonia.
DeleteShort, sweet and scary as hell! WOW!
Delete"...spirit confined in a cage of flesh and bone..."
Delicious words to carry the imagination away!
Some great phrases in their, and a fantastic voice for the devil. You may not believe in him... but he sure as hell believes in you... ;)
DeleteA spitting, snarling retort from a Devil of a demented mind. This is the psychopath's conversation. Terrifying.
DeleteI like the personal touch, speaking directly to the reader. We all indulge in a little self-delusion and you strip it right off us. Nice.
DeleteThere is something frighteningly obvious about this, by which I mean it has a ring of truth. And bloody succinct too.
ReplyDeleteCongrats Dion and Sandra - quality winners as always at The Feardom.
ReplyDeleteA little plug if I may. Lily kindly deemed my piece Shipwrecked (developed from a previous Feardom entry) worthy of posting on Thrillers, Killers n Chillers. It's up here and I would love your thoughts: http://thrillskillsnchills.blogspot.com/2012/03/shipwrecked-by-phil-ambler.html
Right, on to this week's entry. I do worry for my fellow commuters as I seem to always be writing these pieces on the train home from work. If only they could see into my mind....
Mind games
"You ever tried negotiating with yourself? Easy ain't it? Wrong! It's fucking destructive. Believe me, I know.
I know what's right and wrong, which moral path to take but there's this side to me, let's call him Bob, who won't listen. I try caging Bob up in here, in my head, subdue him like, but how can I cage him when he knows the combination to the lock? No secrets from Bobby boy see. The only solution is to cleanse his passions, be stronger next time.
So you understand why he has to do this Sarah, don't you?"
Sarah screamed.
(P.S. Forgive the potty mouth two weeks running; felt the character needed it this time.)
Brilliant, Phil! Knowing right from wrong means little when one can 'lock up' the good and unleash the bad...
DeleteBobby sounds bloody frightful!
Time to bump off Bob I think, if only he will let you (and the commuters will only spot what you're up to when you laugh like that!)
DeleteApparently schizophrenia is socially acceptable if you're a writer, may I suggest you wear a T shirt that says "Don't panic I am a Horror Writer" to placate your fellow commuters. On the back it could read,"Don't make any sudden moves"
DeleteLove the story.
clever. Really liked that!
DeleteNice, Phil! That's one dramatic monologue I would not want to be an audience to...
Delete"potty mouth" - you lovely Dad bloke you.
DeleteNow Bob - see, that scares me - 'cos that's Twin Peaks Bob He's never been far from my loosely padlocked wardrobe and he scares the hell outta me. Now I realise he's a part of you too Phil. How many others does he possess - OMG - he's everywhere. Bloody hell - poor Sarah.
And yes - please, please head over to TKnC to read Shipwrecked. Phil Ambler's a class writer. Bob says so.
Enjoyable and tightly wound, Phil. Particuarly liked the self-justification - he knows the combination to the lock. Well written piece.
Delete(Apropos of nothing, is Julia ok? Not... in a basement or anything?)
First Time poster so please be gentle! ;-)
ReplyDeleteFinally, a Private Chat
They say you can’t negotiate with Death, but that’s not actually true. People do it all the time – trading extra moments of their lives in return for a terrible cost, their desperate final pleadings tarnishing their souls before they pass over, blackening them in a way they can never cleanse.
But it works.
The figure glared through the bars of its cage of blackness and mist, it’s trapped power radiating indignation. How, he demanded, have you come to learn how to speak to me?
Easy, I reply, gesturing at the tortured corpses behind me. I just listened to them.
Marvellous title and the matter-of-factness truly chilling - this is a brilliant beginning - 'don't stop' is all I can say. (and as a relative newbie myself I warn you it can be addictive)
DeleteHello Matt, great first entry. I'm hooked. :-)
Deletenow that is one hell of a first entry! Loved it!
DeleteLove the idea. Learning all you can about the moment of death by studying it, hard; looking for anything to give you an edge for when your time comes... Wonderful justification for a serial killer.
DeleteWonderful stuff Matt. Really well crafted piece with a kicker of an ending. I like your style and the pitch darkness of your humour.
DeleteGreetings Matt, welcome to The Feardom. Such an interesting narration, I am highly intrigued. Love the tarnishing that can never be cleansed here and how you refer to the figure as 'it'. A classy first entry. Thank you.
DeleteFirst time poster, Matt? Surely, sir... you jest!
DeleteThis is brilliant! The dark, dripping matter-of-factness brought a chill to these young bones, yet I could not tear my eyes from your words for a sweater.
'Listening' to the corpses to teach him how to speak with Death... fascinating!
Welcome to the Feardom... I hope to see more of your writngs.
Thanks for the congrats eveyone and well done to Sandra too. Been a bit ill recently but I've managed to pull something together for you.
ReplyDeleteI'll try to get on tonight to post comments on all your fine work.
Bitter
...I'm sorry it has been such a long and complicated Will my darlings, but certain things require time. Now I can rest with an easy conscience.
I can picture you there perfectly, with your unctious smiles and sweaty palms. You've been eyeing up my corpse for years, quietly negotiating with art-dealers and estate agents in puerile anticipation.
We are a sordid family with a shameful past. I am glad to be free of this withered cage; gladder still to reveal I have sold the house and burned all the filthy money.
The anthrax I've enclosed will be your cleansing.
Hilda x
Hello Dion
DeleteI am making notes, beats leaving it to the cats home.
This is delicious.
I agree! Totally delicious!
DeleteHa! What a wicked sense of humour, the old bird gets to have the last laugh. Love it. ;)
DeleteOh dear Dion, I hope you are on the road to recovery. This year has been a bitch health-wise.
DeleteAt least Hilda was on the ball. I love her wily ways; I have heard of so many genuine situations where relatives think they can rip their elderly relatives off, and believe them oblivious. Your Hilda takes her denial of their inheritance a step further than most - and I LOVE that.
Excellent wordcraft, Dion... Hilda showed them... you really can 'take' it with you...
DeleteDeath is the best revenge?
Very well done! Glad to see you on the mend.
Such softly-spoken nastiness, such a neatly placed final kick in the slavering guts of family ... oooh!
ReplyDeleteGood morning,
ReplyDeleteWhat a tremendous collection of stories. I really enjoy stopping by Lily's place. By the way, I am horrible at trying to title stories. Any advice? Here is my entry...deep sigh, eek, and yikes...
Nightmare Next Door
"Not without mommy." Freckled faces whisper to one another in a cage of comfort.
My husband, my love lay next to me. The blood that gave life to our babies slips from the gunshot wound in his honey colored hair.
Tuck, the drug fueled invader, lurches toward me growling about carnal cleansing. Upon his deadly entry I run the girls to a hidden pantry. There they cower amongst bedding and blankets. Safe for now but only I can negotiate their escape. I do hope Tuck makes peace with God, for I am unwilling and Tuck shall not leave breathing.
Marietta Miles
Oh good one, Marietta, love that last line.
DeleteTitles? I usually find mine out of the piece itself, or part of the song lyric which has suggested the idea in the first place. I am about to launch into a story suggested by a song title. Try that?
Titles are tricksy beasts. Sometimes they fall in your lap, perfection on a plate, other times they squirm and wriggle and refuse to sit right, taunting you, teasing you... ;)
DeleteA dark tale, but with a juicy current of revenge running through it. Never mess with an angry mum protecting her kids.
Taut stuff Marietta. Not sure whether I'd be more terrified in her shoes or those of the children.
DeleteMy but you have a way with words Marietta. This is totally on-the-edge stuff that is still resonating even as I type, some moments later. I'm reeling with the anger and a mother's defence instincts. Sometimes I feel things physically - and this is like metal on metal, scraping, raw... Very well done.
DeleteAs for titles, sometimes I write because I've come up with a title but no story. When I have a story and no title, I leave it untitled and walk away. It usually hits me when I'm least expecting it.
Taut writing... excellently done with an economy of words... last line left a chill... in the heat of violence the mother brings a cold revenge.
DeleteTitles... tricky little beasts... a constant torment for me. On more than one occasion, coming up with a good title has been like excoriating my own flesh!
Mindf*ck
ReplyDeleteYour mind is a labyrinth. Learn to negotiate the pathways or become your own jailor.
James rocks back and forth. He fought. He lost.
The deeper you journey, the harder it becomes to find your way out. Never forget to leave a thread, a trail back to reality.
The secret army have James. The secret army have white uniforms, lies, and keys.
Cleanse the prison, so that you may escape. Recognise your enemies, so that you may purge them.
James is lost.
Know this: the cage may look exactly like the real world.
You are James.
Wha? Argh. You actually f*cked my mind. I like the semi-mysticism of this, the pseudo-science of mental control in a sub-real world.
DeleteFreaky.
John, this is mighty powerful - Mindf*ck indeed. It has us swinging back and forth, back and forth like a destructive pendulum between truth and lies. I'm in a futuristic Manchurian Candidate. Terrifying, and superb writing.
DeleteThe duality of a lost tortured soul... knowing the 'world' it has created in its own mind is safer than the real world, yet still yearning to be out.
DeleteA nice bit of, pardon the unladylike language, mind f**kery...
Very nicely done, John
John, you create such a lot of back story in your entries - magic! Good one, this.
ReplyDeleteDepth indeed - merits several readings and a lot of thought!
ReplyDeleteThe Dark Children.
ReplyDeleteI negotiated my way through stacked furniture wary of body shaped dust sheets. Demon shadows flickered in the candlelight as I passed. The front door was locked. A lone figure stood under a streetlamp outside, tiny through the concave window. I screamed for help.
Laughter boomed against the walls. They fought me, snapping the crucifix from my neck. A spider crawled along my open Bible. But spiders don’t have knuckles or broken fingernails. I brushed it away. I was caged in.
The dark children stood along the stairs watching me. They knew this dead exorcist couldn’t cleanse himself.
They swooped.
There's madness in your words tonight, Anthony. The line that clinched it for me..?
DeleteBut spiders don't have knuckles or broken fingernails.
Dark Children, indeed.
Hammer-Horrific! This takes me right back to the way I felt when I first watched a horror film (at too tender an age.) More than a little panicky, with images staying stark in my imagination farlonger than I would wish. Those fingers will be staying with me tonight. You git.
DeleteOh, divinely dark Tony. There is so much atmosphere oozing through this. I agree it is Hammer Horroresque, and Pan Book of Horror-worthy. A classic blast of terror that will have me leaving the light on all night. Brilliant writing, I loved it.
DeleteDark and sinister words... dripping symbolism of fear and terror... your words create a sense of utter hopelessness... the priest must die!
DeleteBrilliant bit of madness, Anthony. Bravo!
Right; the Prediction's closed but I'm on a commenting roll so I'll keep going. Back in the morning with results and new words.
ReplyDeleteFabbo week.
I just want to say I love all the entries this week. For those I haven't done a comment on, I apologize. I was planning on doing it today but my allergies are kicking my ass right now.
ReplyDelete