Old Shoes #FridayFictioneers

Who knew how long the boots had been in the shed but they were finally seeing light again. Gritting my teeth, hoping no spiders popped out, I carried the shoes onto the lawn and laid them down with everything else.

Something tickled across my hand. I looked and spotted a small spider. I screamed, flung my hand about then did a crazy dance around the garden. Breathing deeply, I glanced around, panic soaring through me. Of course, the spider was no where to be seen. Traumatised I rushed inside my new house and washed my hands repeatedly.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/09/20/22-september-2017/ with thanks).

 

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The Force #100WW

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The police were out in force on the streets again, but that had become a normal sight for the city. They wore armour, helmets and gas masks which hide their identities, allowing them to do their job without fear of prosecution from the public. Only a few officers  carried guns and the rest had whatever weapons they could find. They started moving people away and back into their homes or the safety of other buildings. Then they created a blockade on the streets and waited for the un-dead to arrive.

 

(Inspire from; https://bikurgurl.com/2017/09/13/100-word-wednesday-week-36/ with thanks).

Scattered #writephoto

The top floor corridor was foreboding and forever in darkness since my father had died. With my bare toes pressed against the bottom of the first wooden step of the staircase, I looked upwards into the blackness. Of course, I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear them.

They moved with shuffling, dragging footsteps and whispered so you could only catch one or two words. Sometimes one of them would wail or moan in a low undertone. My mother and the servants would blame it on the wind or an animal.

I knew differently.

A chill crept around my bare ankles and began to make it’s up, under my white nightdress. I whacked the dress down, stepping backwards then I collected the edges in my hands, wrapping them around me for protection.

‘Stay away!’ I hissed.

A low chuckle came from the darkness in the middle of the stairs and a man’s voice whispered, ‘stay.’

Scrunching up my face, I tried to make his shadowy form out. I wasn’t scared of them and as long as I kept my distance they couldn’t do no harm. I made out the shape of two long legs on the step and a hand just above the banister.

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

He just laughed and began making his way downstairs. A panic and fleeing notion came over me. He didn’t feel like the others, he was stronger… I backed away and I did think about running, but I was determined to stand my ground.

Father had had control over them and I did too, even though I wasn’t very good at it. I shut my eyes and calmed myself. Rising my left arm, I put my fingers to my neck and clutched the silver cross there. I emptied my mind then imagined light washing over me.

I heard heavy boots hitting the stairs and a soft growling. I didn’t open my eyes nor move. Icy cold fingers brushed past me, but I ignored it. I pictured a bright ball of white light coming out and hovering above me.

‘Not scared?’ the shadow man asked.

I opened my eyes, feeling the power of the light swelling within me. I could see him more clearly now. He was a tall man, dressed all in black, his face was narrow with bright red eyes and a slashed mouth which was grinning.

‘Daemon,’ I uttered.

He let out a rippling laugh which echoed through the still house. He came to the bottom of the stairs and reached out for me. His arms stretched longer then they should have and once again I felt his touch. His icy grip bit into my other arm and he breathed harshly into my ear.

‘Mine. Little girl,’ he uttered.

‘No! Daemon!’ I yelled and pushed against him.

Blinding brightness shot out from me, throwing us both back. I hit the wall hard then scrambled upwards. A wild howl filled my ears and I saw the top floor corridor bursting with scattered light. Many shadows were fleeing before it and wails echoed in the distance.

I watched the light dancing on the ceiling and walls, dazed by the patterns. It was like sunlight through a prism. The light began to fade and so did their cries. Looking down at my hands, I wondered if I had really done that. The sound of running footsteps broke me out of my thoughts. The rest of my light faded but they didn’t gather back, instead the corridor took on a peaceful darkness.

‘What happened?’ my mother gushed.

I turned and saw her in the dim lamp light. She had her maid and mine behind her.

‘I don’t know,’ I answered sulkily.

‘Where you sleep walking again?’ My mother pressed.

I faked a pause as if thinking then nodding went over and pressed myself into her nightdress. I made sobbing sounds.

My mother patted my head, whispering calming things and led me off to my bedroom. I glanced back as we moved off. I couldn’t sense them up there but I knew they would gather again soon.

 I looked down at my hands, in wonder.  Did I really now have the power to defeat them…?        

(Inspired from; https://scvincent.com/2017/09/14/thursday-photo-prompt-scattered-writephoto/ with thanks).

The Day Before

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The day before the apocalypse happened the weather went crazy. We woke up to dark as night skies and heavy clouds. Rain poured down like I had never seen before and it was like a huge waterfall. Many places were flooded. There was a massive thunderstorm which had people staying inside and those that went out regret it and came home again.

The hailstone fell in sharp bursts, large balls of ice hitting metal like it was dough. Glass smashed, car alarms went off and animals fled underground. The storm rumbled on; bright heavenly flashes of light going off like all the time and the thunder was deafening. The rain turned to snow. Huge flakes sweeping down on gale force winds and covering everything in a white blanket.

People peered out of windows, wondering what was going on. The news was a blur of reports as countries all over the world reported the wildness of storms and weather conditions. The warnings flashed by too; Stay inside! Await rescue! Whole cities swept by freak waves, whole towns buried in snow and the raising death toll.

And I stood by the shelter’s plastic windows, knowing what all this bad weather meant and the fact I couldn’t do anything to stop tomorrow’s rapture sitting heavy on my shoulders.

Hurricane

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It was coming. Atlanta could hear the gale force winds rattling the storm shutters and the rain pelting the roof. She held her breath and hugged her dog, Greg, tighter. He didn’t seem to mind but then he was old and deaf.

They was sat in a small yellow tent set up in the far corner of the cellar. Dim amber fairy lights in the shape stars cast some light down, but it wasn’t enough to do anything by. Atlanta’s didn’t really mind though as long as she wasn’t in the dark.

‘I’m safe. Everything is fine,’ Atlanta muttered.

Every since she had heard about the high chance of the hurricane last week, she had be preparing. All the kitchen and basement cupboards were stocked with bottled water, long life food, matches and extra gas canisters for the camping stove. She had double or triple camping equipment items and a whole range of lighting; battery and candle lanterns, torches and spare candles.

Atlanta picked up her headphones which were top of the range noise cancelling and selected some loud classic music from her ipod.

‘There’s nothing else to do now it’s here,’ she said aloud.

She rubbed Greg’s ears then wrapped herself in a thermal sleeping bag and began waiting out the hurricane.

Ruining

The castle was pleasant by day but at night it became a sinister blot. Stories of supernatural creatures hung over the place, causing folk to stay away.

I’d set out to prove they were all legends. Peering out of my tent, the full moonlight touched the medieval stones, casting an eerie glow. I heard voices then a fire sprung to life. Before me, the devil and a coven of witches began to party.

I tried to convince myself it was a dream and perhaps it truly was but what I saw that night I will take to my grave.

 

(Inspired from; https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/08/30/1-september-2017 with thanks)

One Moment

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It had been a last minute decision that changed our lives forever. Getting into my car, I watched from the rear view mirror as my wife checked our ten year old twins were strapped into the back of her car. Then she walked around and got behind the wheel.

Starting my car’s engine, I glanced at my fourteen year old son, sat now in the passenger seat on his phone. He had been the trouble of all this and the reason why we now had to take two cars on holiday instead of one.

Sighing and partly blaming myself, I drove off. For years, my wife had been trying to get us to buy a bigger car but we couldn’t offered it, unless we got rid of both smaller cars and that would have meant one of us taking the train to work. Getting those thoughts out of my head as I reached the motorway, I tried to think of everything we had to look forward to.

The six hour journey to Cornwall always felt like forever. I found my driving quieter though as the twins weren’t bugging me and my son was too busy on his phone or playing games. I put the radio on and let the rhythm of the music mix with the steady engine.

After stopping at a services and having a quick meet up, we carried on the last leg of the drive. It was a few miles before the turn off,  that I checked my mirrors and saw a lorry swerve lanes and plough side on into the car behind me. My heart stopped and I couldn’t breath but then I had to focus. I slowed and pulled over, praying that car hadn’t been my wife’s.

Yelling at my son to stay, I dashed out and ran to the scene of the wreckage. The car had spun off the hard shoulder and was laying in a tangle remains of trees and undergrowth. I didn’t even look at the lorry as I pulled open the driver’s door. And even though I knew, I was still fighting for it not to be true.

Sleep Like The Dead #twitteringtales

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By the time they reached the hotel, she was too exhausted to care. Snuggling down into the bed, she fell asleep right away. Throughout the night, the ghosts of the haunted hotel came into the room. In turn, they tried to wake the woman but she didn’t respond to their loud moans, their moving of furniture or flashing of lights. Her husband though, sat wide awake fascinated. In the morning, she awoke feeling refreshed but found her husband crazed with tales of ghosts.

 

(Inspired from; https://katmyrman.com/2017/07/25/twittering-tales-42-25-july-2017/ with thanks)

Fleeing Eternal Darkness

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It was hard to go back there but I had to do it. Sinking into one of the church pews which looked still stable though it creaked loudly under me, I looked around. Surprisingly, the place wasn’t in bad shape for having been abandoned for forty-seven years. Yes, the roof had let water in so there was dampness and rot. People had taken a lot of things to salvage, but the colored glass windows with their biblical scenes were still intact.

Resting against my walking stick, I knew breathing the air in here would be bad but I had to stay as long as it took. Ignoring the shaking of my body, I cast my mind back and plunged myself into that first Sunday of July 1970.

My family had been coming to this little village church for generations and this seemed like any normal Sunday service. I had my wife with me and our two boys, who were longing to be playing about outside. Then the priest announced a special moment in the history of our church; the first exorcism to take place here! Everyone who had been dozing or daydream began to pay attention again.

A thirteen year old girl, wearing only a white dress, was dragged on by two burly men, I knew to be brothers. She was screaming and crying, her loose red hair flying everywhere. I didn’t recognise her and being a doctor I knew every child in the village. I frowned and half rose from my pew, my gut saying something wasn’t right.

‘This girl,’ the priest began having to yell over the child, ‘has been possessed by demons and I shall end her suffering by removing them from her body and mind!’

The congregation gasped and began muttering. I caught the glare of my wife but it was too late, I was on my feet and challenging.

‘Who is this girl?’ I cried out ‘and how do you know she is possessed? She seems nothing more then a frighted child to me!’

Eyes turned towards me and a few people joined my line of questioning.

‘This is beyond your medications, Doctor!’ the priest roared back at me.

I felt a tug on my sleeve and knew it was my wife, but I ignored her and carried on, ‘You know that for a fact do you? Let me see her!’

I stepped out of the pew and strolled up towards them. The girl was still screaming and crying, struggling to get away from the massive hands holding her down. The priest moved aside, hand gesturing me to inspect the child.

Reaching for her, she tried to bite me, but the brothers held her back. I felt her forehead, looked into her eyes and mouth as much as I could. She was drenched in sweat and looked very unwell now that she had fallen silent.

‘She is feverish,’ I declared, ‘she’s merely ill.’

‘No!’ the priest snapped.

He rushed at me, sweeping me aside and I tumbled to the floor. I heard him chanting loudly in Latin and the girl screaming. Looking up, I saw the girl fling her head back and open her mouth. A red mist poured out of her and forms seemed to take shape.

I scrambled up off the floor and back to my wife and boys. The congregation were crying and shouting things out, but no one could hear each other because the scream now coming from the girl was deafening. I tried to scoop up my family and get them out of the church but it was too late. The demons flew at us all, forcing their way inside of everyone and taking over.

I don’t remember much after that. Everyone was stumbling out of the church, feeling like they had to get far away from everything that was Holy. I walked my wife and boys back home, hoping the fresh air would help, but we all felt sick when we arrived. We spent days resting, whatever had happened seemed to become like a faded dream.

But we were cursed now. Everyone in the village had a demon inside of them and we found it harder to control ourselves and remain good. I moved my family away a year later, my wife was seriously ill and my boys were running wild. It helped a little, but it wasn’t enough and no one seemed able to heal us.

(Inspired from: https://thewriteedgewritingworkshop.wordpress.com/2017/07/06/writing-prompts-for-monday-july-10-2017/ with thanks)

The Secret

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My mother had been buried under the gardeners’ compost heap just like my step-great-uncle had always told me. I could see bits of creamy bone and scraps of dark red dress coated with damp soil and roots. Her death wasn’t a secret any longer but now I was about to join her.

(Inspired from; http://sachablack.co.uk/2017/07/05/writespiration-123-52-weeks-in-52-words-week-27/ with thanks)