Numbers #3LineTales

three line tales, week 185: numbers

What were the numbers on the wall? Who put them there and what did they mean? Caz puzzle over this. He wanted to just say they were graffiti, kids messing around with the Devil’s number.

There was something, Caz’s six sense said, that he just couldn’t shake though. He pulled out his phone and put the numbers in. He hoped they were just meaningless and no one picked up.

There was a crackle, a tinny, distant voice began speaking in his ear, ‘A Hell demon speaking. Who is this?’

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2019/08/15/three-line-tales-week-185/ with thanks).

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Whirl #TwittingTales

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The trees moved violently as if stuck by a giant when the chopper flew close to them. The noise of the whirling blades blocked out all of sound but then the emergency bleeping went off.

People watched in horror as the helicopter failed to land and crashed into the forest.

 

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2019/08/06/twittering-tales-148-august-6-2019/ with thanks).

Monastery #WhatPegmanSaw

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There were so many Buddhist monasteries in Bhutan it had been hard to decide which ones to visit. I marked them on my map and tried to fit one in everyday.

No matter how calm being there made me as soon as I left the darkness crept back in. Heat would prickle my skin, thoughts and voices would crowd my mind. I felt taken over and no longer in control.

My only choice was to remain in a monastery but I didn’t want to be trapped. That’s how the darkness wanted me to be though; one way or another.

 

(Inspired by; https://whatpegmansaw.com/2019/07/27/what-pegman-saw-bhutan/ with thanks).

The Eyes – Mokumoku Ren

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Hideo dashed through the lashing rain, his wooden clogs slipping on the dirt track, his back weighed down by his heavy travelling pack. He looked desperately around but he was surrounded by abandoned rice paddy fields and there seemed to be no shelter to be had.

He made for the nearest tree which was only just taller then himself. Hideo shivered and wondered how far it was to the nearest village. Trying hard to convince himself that he wasn’t lost, Hideo fell into prayer.

When he opened his eyes and looked down the road, he saw a gate sticking out of the undergrowth. Smiling and feeling like his prayers had been answered, Hideo walked over, the rain and wind whipping around him. He tugged himself through the half open gate and went up what had once been a path which led him to an abandoned house.

Entering, he called out and listened to his echoing voice. Normally he had would have taken off his clogs and left them at the porch but he had no idea what would be on the floors and thought it might be safer to keep them on for the moment.

The abandoned house’s roof was sound and the all the rooms were dry. Hideo went into the front room and set himself up on the floor. He was tried but he had something to eat and drink before settling down to sleep.

The rain hammered on the roof like a banging drum and the wind howled through ripped screen windows. Normally such a racket would have kept Hideo awake but he was so tried sleep came easily.

Sometime time later, something disturbed his sleep and Hideo woke up, he lay in the dark wondering what it was. Thunder rumbled and he decided the storm must have awakened him. Grateful, he had found this abandoned house, Hideo lay down to sleep again but a creeping feeling of being watched prickled the back of his neck.

Muttering that it was just the storm and tiredness, Hideo tried to rest. The feeling wouldn’t go away and seemed to grow until he was forced to give in and light his lamp.

‘I’m sorry for entering your house!’ Hideo spoke in Japanese, ‘I was only seeking shelter. Please let yourself be known. I mean no harm, I am but an old travelling merchant who became lost in the storm.’

Hideo listened to his words faded but heard no reply. He debated getting up and walking through the house, making peace and saying thank you for the shelter. Something flickered out of the corner of his eye and Hideo turned to see a shoji screen behind him.

Another flicker of movement and a human eye was staring at Hideo.

‘Thank you for letting me stay here,’ Hideo spoke and bowed low.

When he looked up again more eyes had joined the first and they seemed to be forming across the screen.

Hideo swallowed and watched as soon the whole screen was taken over by staring eyes.

‘Mokumoku Ren – haunted shoji screen. The first sign of a haunted house,’ Hideo whispered.

Quickly, Hideo began uttering prayers, blessing and thanks, everything he could think of that might keep the spirits of the abandoned house at bay.

Finally exhausted, he collapsed on the floor and fell into a deep sleep.

Sunlight tickling his face woke Hideo. Startled, he looked around, the memory of the haunting eyes hurried him to leave this place. Gathering his thing, he rushed outside then remembered to be respectful and turned back with a low bow to the abandoned house.

‘Thank you for letting me stay. Please don’t haunt me!’ Hideo called.

Spinning around, he ran down the pathway and back onto the dirt road, praying that no spirits followed him.

Bows And Arrows #3LineTales

three line tales, week 176: archers

Archery club sounded like something that belong in the Medieval times but it was my favourite sport. There was just something about the smooth wooden bow in my hand, the setting and pulling back of the arrow, the feathers against my cheek and releasing twank followed by the thunk of a hit target.

And now, all those hours of practise and competitions were paying off because I found the zombies too easy to hit but I also knew never let my guard down as there something much worse then them out there in the darkness.

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2019/06/13/three-line-tales-week-176/ with thanks).

The Blue House #FridayFictioneers

The new owners had done the house up nicely. They had even decided to stick with the blue and white colour scheme. I could smell the fresh paint as I walked by.

Stopping, I looked at the rows of plant pots because these were new. I heard a window opening and turned sharply to leave.

‘Good morning!’ a cheery woman’s voice called. She had bright red hair and huge glasses.

‘Hello,’ I called back.

‘I just love this house and we got it so cheap too!’

‘That’s because it use to be my house and I buried ten people in the cellar.’

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/06/05/28-june-2019/ with thanks).

Reunion #TaleWeaver

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He stood on the beach alone, leaning on his walking sticks and staring out to sea. For the last few days the remembrance and celebration events had been going on and he had been reunited with some old friends. Still, he couldn’t believe it had been seventy-five years since he had first walked across this beach.

He could picture everything still; first light, the cold rough waves of the sea, first against the boats then against his legs as he struggled forward with his company. The heavy weight of his gun and pack. The bundle of nerves in his stomach and the twisting thoughts of what might lay in wait for him.

The sounds of machine guns and other weapons boomed out from the cliff tops creating a noise so deafening, it had never left his ears. He had only just been able to hear the orders to run forward, to take the beach. The sound of friendly fire was even louder then then enemies’ and so close it made him feel terrified.

The first soldiers got shot. The sea foam turned red and bodies bobbed in the water face down. More fell on the beach and were left behind as their pals ran onwards. Victory must be had! There would be time later to help the dead.

More and more men fell, the sea and sand seeming to be their final resting place. Everything turned red with blood, the cries of the dying and wounded came into competition with the gun noises. Bullets zipped this way and that, zinging through the air till the hit something.

He was no longer thinking, just acting on instinct and that’s why he didn’t really remember things. Everything seemed to blur into one. There was a body, there was a fallen gun, there was the sea behind him and the boats now awaiting them. He had seen so much but no words could ever describe it.

He had been nineteen. Just a boy. A boy who had wanted to do his bit to save his country. Make his parents proud and his sweetheart love him more. His teacher had said he should sign up, become a hero. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.

He had never felt like a hero. Not even now.

‘The dead are the heroes!’ he had told one news reporter and he had meant it too.

 

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In memory of all those lost on D-Day.

 

(Inspired by; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/06/06/tale-weaver-226-reunion-june-6th/ with thanks).

Cast Away #FridayFictioneers

Washed up on the island, he had scratched the passage of days into the trunk of a palm tree. Today, there were forty-two lines.

Some of the shipwreck had washed up too and he had used these items to survive. He had hoped someone else might turn up but nobody alive had. The five bodies, he had buried under a marked tree, for recovery later.

The sound of a helicopter broke the air. He grabbed binoculars, a flare gun and climbed into a tree. He searched the sky and when the chopper grew closer, he fired the red signal.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/05/29/31-may-2019/ with thanks).

Open #TwitteringTales

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The fridge door wouldn’t stay shut over night no matter what she did. She decided to replace the fridge, thinking there must be a fault. However, the new fridge door also wouldn’t shut.

‘Must be a hungry ghost in the night leaving it open!’ her boyfriend joked.

Little did they know…

 

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2019/05/14/twittering-tales-136-14-may-2019/ with Thanks).

Dear Diary

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Dear diary,

The nightmares have been getting worse. They are hard to write about because I don’t totally remember them, it’s just like snap shots of still images but the fear they bring is real.

The setting is always the same; the abandoned asylum we went to last month. I fell through a rotten floor/ceiling and went down to the floor below, breaking my leg and arm. I’ve only been home from hospital for a week now and I was hoping the nightmares would stay there and not follow me. No luck.

In the nightmare, we are always walking around the asylum. I see the peeling paint and falling plaster off the ceiling, the broken glass of the barred windows, the metal beds pushed up together in piles. The smell of decay is overwhelming, almost chocking.

I start to see shadows, creeping shapes along all the surfaces then the whispers start. I can’t understand what they are saying. I try hard to listen, I walk closer to them, leaving my friends behind. I’m alone and that’s when it starts. The shadows grow, become demons- red skin, long horns, tails, animal like fur and features, some walk on two legs, others four legs.

I hear screaming and crying, echoing all around me. They sound painful, distressed and desperate. I know they are not coming from the demons but from the souls of the dead asylum inmates trapped here.

The urge to flee, makes me break into a run and I race from room to room, down corridors, hallways. The fear is all consuming and the only thing I can think about. I trip, fall over something that could be a body and I spin down and down. The floor gives way under me and I fall with a sense of forever.

I hear laughter and look to see the demons are falling me. They fall around me happily and I realise they are taking my soul down to Hell.

When I awake, sometimes I feel like I’m still dreaming. It takes me awhile and the sense of not being able to breath feels me. Then the pain of my broken leg and arm hit and that brings me back. The dream fades but something still clings to me.

I’ve been thinking over the last few days that maybe I was meant to die in the fall at the abandoned asylum but because I didn’t I’m now being haunted. The demons there wanted another soul and tried to take mine, however they couldn’t and now they are so unhappy they keep returning in my dreams to keep attempting to kill me.

Maybe, I’m just reading too much into that but I’ve so much time on my hands now, it’s hard not to deep think about thing.  Anyway, I hope the nightmares go away as I get better and they are really just a side effect of my accident.