trapped

The young girl carefully rose, first pulling her head up from her knees to peer around her. The darkness of the mausoleum was pierced by a stream of bright sunlight that found its way through a crack in the wall. She reached her hands out before her, trying to touch the dancing dust that meandered across her face in the bright light. Unsatisfied, her eyes began to investigate the details of her surroundings more intensely. She saw nothing but hard, dark stone that was cold against her feet.
A moan escaped her cracked lips as she tried to stand, straightening her stiff legs. She touched the soft pink gown that was draped over her naked body, rolling the translucent fabric between her fingers. Her blonde hair, slightly matted, sprawled out around her face and shoulders.
She wandered around the small mausoleum, her steps slow and calculated. Her feet were dusted with dirt that was caked between her toes, sluffing off with each step. Her heart began to pound so loud that it hurt her ears from within, realizing that she was trapped inside the stone box. Her eyes grew wild with fear, watering with every moment that passed. She began pounding her weak fists against the stones, barely making a sound to be heard. She opened her dry mouth, pushing out wails of desperation that scraped against her throat. Tears streamed down her cheeks, making shining trails against her dirty skin. She pounded against the walls with her fists so hard the skin along her palms split open to reveal the long forgotten life residing within.
After hours of screaming, traces of red blood smeared across the walls, she gave up and return to her corner, collapsing to the cold stone floor. She once again pulled her knees up close to her chest and lowered her head to wait…

Written by K, Copyright 2015

the dark haired man

She stood quietly, hidden behind the door frame, listening. Her heart pounded so loudly that she had to strain to hear what her father and the dark haired man were saying.
“It is time, Max,” the stranger said once again, his voice rising in frustration.
“How can it be? We have not seen any of the signs? The sky has not darkened, the sea…”
“Look!” The man desperately shrieked, pulling his left sleeve up over his forearm.
The following silence was almost deafening, taunting the girl. She inched her eyes carefully around the doorframe and peeked into the small darkened room. The lighted candle sitting atop the bookshelf flickered softly across the two men. Her father stood in shock, starring at the other man’s arm which had some sort of a snake tattoo writhing and wiggling beneath his skin.
The girl instinctly covered her mouth to stifle her own shock. Her fear of snakes seemed to wrap tightly around her throat.
“It… it can’t be!” Her father finally spoke. His voice was now rough and almost in a whisper. “She is only twelve, she’s only twelve!”
The girl quickly slinked behind the doorframe once again, her eyes bulging in shock. She was only twelve. Her fingers tightened around her mouth as she felt a scream brewing within.
“I know, but it is time,” the stranger confirmed, pulling his sleeve back down over his marked arm. “It has not happened as we thought, but the time has come nonetheless. We must take action now.” Max nodded.
“Willowfred!” Max called without moving. “Please come here!”
Willowfred froze against the wall, unable to move. Terrible thoughts began filtering through her mind as she quietly stood, unseen.
“Willowfred, dear, I know you are standing just outside of the door, please come in,” her father ordered.
Willowfred lowered her hand, took a deep breath and cautiously entered the room. She didn’t know what to expect, but the worst danced along the corners of her mind.
“Why are you spying?” Her father calmly asked. Willowfred stood quietly, just a couple of feet from the stranger, shrugging her shoulders. She kept her eyes on the floor, afraid to make eye contact.
“I hope this little charade has frightened you into minding your own business,” her father scolded.
Willowfred’s eyes darted up to meet her father’s, filled with shock. “What?”
“You heard me.” A smile crept across his face as he motioned to his company. “He helped concoct this brilliant trick to help teach you to stop spying on me.” A small chuckle escaped his mouth, causing his short whiskers to vibrate in strange patterns.
“But what about his arm?” Willowfred questioned.
“His arm? What about it?” Her father asked confused.
“His arm, that thing…” Willofred exclaimed as she pointed towards the man’s covered arm, her finger slightly shaking.
“Oh that,” her father chuckled once again. “I thought it would be funny to entice you to peek in. Wasn’t that brilliant? To pull up his sleeve like there was something for you to see?” Her fathered laughed again a little harder.
“What? But the snake?” Willowfred questioned again, this time her eyes bored into the stranger for an explanation.
“I don’t know what you are going on about Willowfred, but I hope you will now stay clear of eavesdropping around my study. Go get yourself to bed.”
Willofred walked towards the doorway as her father and the stranger began to pour over a map on the desk before them. She paused, confused. She glanced back at the two men just as the stranger was pushing up both of his sleeves, revealing a writhing snake on each of his forearms. Her eyes widened as fear prickled on the back of her neck. She looked to the man’s face, making eye contact with the stranger that felt like she was gazing into an endless dark well. One corner of his mouth rose into a smirk as he turned back to her father.

Be careful eavesdropping on others, you may discover something you wish you didn’t….

Written by K, Copyright 2015

the tiny bobble

"For you, Darling," said the old woman. A long black cloak draped over her hunched body, the hood covering her face.
"For me?" The young girl said, perplexed by the object being held out towards her. It was a silver metal of sort, twisted and crinkled into a small ball, almost like vines, with a glowing red light peeking out from within. "What is it?"
The old woman smiled a crooked smile deep in the darkness of her hood. "Why, it is a bobble, Darling, a bobble."
The young girl moved a little closer so that her eyes could investigate the details of the bobble more closely. "I don't understand."
"What is there to understand?" The old woman declared as her other hand waved off doubts in the air. "It is simply a bobble, just for you." She pushed the bobble closer to the young girl so that it almost touched her nose...almost.
The girl blinked her bright blue eyes several times and tried to peer into the hood to see the woman's face. She thought she saw a flash of fire flames, but shook her head and focused once again on the glowing red light before her. "But why is it for me?"
"Why not?" Offered the old woman, her smile growing.
The young girl reached her right hand out, hovering just above the metal bobble, hesitating.
"Go one, take it, Darling," the old woman coaxed.
The girl took a deep breath and grabbed the bobble, feeling its hotness against her palms. "Why is it so hot?" She asked, once again trying to peer into the hood.
"Because it is working, Darling," the woman answered as she began to cackle a horribly. She flicked her black hood off her head to reveal a wrinkled face, green like a frog. Her nose was twisted and crooked with a large brown wart that dangled from the end. Her ghastly teeth were covered in grime as she raised her hands. The winds began to pick up, lightning flashed across the sky.
"What is happening!" The young girl exclaimed as the bobble seemed to melt into her hand. Small scales pierced through her skin, covering her arms and face.
"What have you done to me?" Lightning drowned out the girl's screaming as her body continued to change and morph until she no longer resembled a young girl with bright blue eyes.
"Now come, my sweet one," the old woman called as she turned and headed for the nearby woods. A small red lizard like creature slithered behind her, its forked tongue darting out in all directions.
"You must come and meet the others."

the young woman and the jailer

The young woman cried in the dank, dark room, burying her face into her hands. The bitter cold that surrounded her etched it's way across her bare arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Her face dripped salty tears as she cried out promises, if only she could find her way out of this mess.
"Quiet in there!" The jailer yelled as he slammed his ring of keys against the rusty bars, the clinking noise wafting to the brick walls where it is immediately stifled.
The woman covered her mouth with her hands as she tried to calm her panic. The sentence of life imprisonment twisted her heart until she could no long recognize it. Please, someone help me, she thoughts to herself, begging for someone, anyone, to remove her from the depressing surroundings that were pulling her to the dirt beneath her feet.
"Here's your sup," the jailor called, pushing a tray through the bars and letting it fall to the ground with a thud. The bread squished beneath the tray as it flipped during the fall, while the cheese rolled towards the woman, collecting dirt along the way. She held her fingers out to catch the rolling cheese, almost in disbelief that her meal was at the center of the ball of dirt.
The jailor laughed as he made his way to a nearby table to gorge himself on roasted chicken. The smell permeated the small dungeon, sending aches and pains through the young woman's abdomen.
Please, someone help me.
She tried to flick off the clumps of dirt collected across the surface of the cheese, realizing there was no way to make it clean again. She brushed as much of the dirt off as she could and popped it into her mouth, whole. She felt the granules of the dirt crunch between her teeth and drying her throat as she swallowed. She made her way to the tray to collect her slice of bread when a grumbling noise grew louder and louder. Soon the ground beneath her was shaking, the bricks rattling in their spots.
"What in the-" the jailor yelled, his voice full of fury and eyeing the young woman.
The young woman bent down to reach for the squished slice of bread as a fire flame rolled through the barred window, the flames engulfing most of the small room, licking the top of her hair.
"Dragon! Yelled the jailor as started to push himself from his small table. A large scaled foot came crashing through the ceiling, landing so close to the table that the debris tumbled towards the jailor, trapping him.
The bars to the young woman's jail cell teetered with a creak as it fell away to a perfect escape.
"Here, over there!" Yelled the jailor, pointing to a metal rod that her skin knew well. "Use that to help pry this off," he pleaded, pushing with all his might against the broken rocks. 
The young woman stood before the helpless jailor as a smile crept across her face. She reached down, grabbed a chicken leg amidst the debris and savagely took a bite as she made her way out of the dungeon and into the bright sunlight.

Written by K, Copyright 2015

I could feel something stirring...

I could feel something stirring within me, some sort of change, rooted deep in my bones. I watched my finger nails growing longer before my eyes, reaching far past the tips of my fingers, my fingers that are now pale in the glow of the moon.
My mind began to panic. I felt something wet dripping down the side of my neck. I swiped the pads of my fingers across my neck, realizing that it was blood. I smeared the sticky substance between my fingers in wonderment.
My mouth began to hurt, my teeth aching deep into my jawbone. I cried out in pain as my fingers felt my canine teeth growing sharper, longer. I began to cry, tears streaming down my face and blurring my vision as my mind pieced together what was before me. I wailed out into the dark night as my body seethed with hunger, a desire that could not be stifled. I took off through the trees, my heart breaking with every step, as I raced towards the  distant laughter of my family.

Written by K, Copyright 2015

marriage

This flash fiction piece was written in response to the prompt marriage provided by The One-Minute Writer.

I walked carefully, slowly down the isle, all eyes on me. I could feel the lacing of my dress tugging beneath every step I took, my fingers delicately crossing beneath the bouquet. I watched the man standing at the end of the isle, picking at his fingernails. His hair stuck up in all directions, most likely from rolling out of bed to make it here in time. I wondered if he had even brushed his teeth.
I was soon standing across from him. He watched me, blinking his eyes several times. He smiled, but a goofy smile that turned my stomach. I instantly looked to my mother who was seated in the first row, surrounded by guards. She knew my look was to double check that I absolutely had to go through with this, and she nodded her reassurance. I knew the dire need for me to marry this unwanted prince, I knew what it meant for my kingdom. I held out my shaking hand to allow for him to slip on the ring. It was a tad snug, sticking to my skin as he pushed it up my finger with more force. Finally, with my finger aching like a wild a pig stuffed into a dress, I gazed down at the ring that would mark my hand for the rest of time, covered in black speckles.

Written by K, Copyright 2015

the little prince

This post is written in response to a prompt for Quote Quest from The Splendor Falls on Castle Walls. Here is the prompt:

"It's too early in the day for killing princes."
This quote was originally from the movie Troy, spoken by the character Achilles.

The prince whined from the table, clattering his spoon against his plate. "Where's my quail? I asked for quail today! I demand quail!" He continued to holler across the room as his feet kicked around, hidden beneath the lacey tablecloth. Steam rose from the freshly carved turkey before him, plump red berries surrounding the platter. The little prince formed his mouth into a tight pucker, frowning. He crossed his arms over his chest in defiance, refusing to eat his dinner that was void of quail.
"But, Sir," stuttered the cook, who was quickly pulled from the kitchen to fend for himself before the prince.
"I want quail!" He demanded again. His father, the king, watched his son's growing fit from across the table, sighing. How will such a child ever grow into being king over the realm? 
The young prince began tossing potatoes at the cook who stood before him, shivering in fright. One of the potatoes bounced off the arm of the cook, bopping the little prince in the head. He began to wail, rubbing the rising bump on his forehead. The guard beside the king immediately withdrew his sword, ready to defend the royal family, even if it was just from a potato.
"There, there," the king told his guard, lightly patting him on the shoulder. "It's too early in the day for killing princes," he playfully added. He quickly rose from his seat and dismissed the cook from the room so that he could speak with his defiant little prince.

flash fiction: I sit in class, distracted

I sit in class, distracted. The teacher at the front of the room writes on the chalk board, smearing the chalk across the empty blackness, writing words  I don't understand. The voices gnawing at my ears, the voices that no one else hears.
I look around the room, watching others; faces towards the front, nodding their heads in agreement, jotting down more words in their notebooks. Words. I can't seem to grasp them, other than the silent ones that batter my eardrums. I cup my hands over my ears to block out their noise, feeling as though unseen fingers are prying my own, one by one, away from my protected ears.
The class bell rings and I jump. Everyone laughs at me as I gather my bag slumped on the floor. I dash out of the classroom, out of the school, and hurry home. The sun shines brightly against my eyes; I smile for a brief moment before I hear them again. The voices.
They are always asking me, coaxing me, hoping I will converse. But I ignore them, afraid of what new thing might come of my giving in. My feet pick up pace until I am within my home, slamming the door behind me.
I am alone in my house, the silence should be deafening, though it never is for me. I throw my school bag against the floor and make my way to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. The voices become so loud that I can see my water vibrating within my glass, shaking with their words.
I finally give in and scream my answers, scream my thoughts, only to have the voices quiet for just a moment before they begin to chatter on incessantly once again. I throw my glass across the room, watching it smash against the wall. The pieces fall to the floor as water drizzles down the wallpaper, and I once again find myself cupping my ears tightly to block out the sound.

Written by K, Copyright 2015

The King's Cook

I stopped stirring the King's pudding long enough to hear it. The screaming grew louder and louder, wailing deep into my eardrums. I winced as I set down the bowl and headed outside to see what the commotion was about.
The crackling  noise sent a fear down my spine before my eyes reached the door, knowing. I placed my shaking hand on the doorknob, not surprised to find it hot.
I knew what was on the other side of the door. I knew what was crackling and causing all of the screams. I knew, and I was terrified. I felt my knees shaking as my breath caught in my chest, but I twisted the knob anyway.
I saw a group of townspeople huddled together in the distance, bodies scattered before them as they screamed in my direction. The kitchen shook as a large scaly tail slithered before me, smacking against the wall. Within seconds I saw the creature's head lower, inches in front me, releasing flames so hot that I could see colors swirling in the middle. The people screamed again, frantic as the flames licked towards their feet.
My mind raced as I saw images flashing deep in the dragon's eyes. The iridescent scales caught the sunlight, blinding me for just a moment. When my sight returned, the dragon was no longer in my view. I looked to the townspeople who were gazing up to the sky, shaking.
I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a pot and spoon and headed out into the chaos. My legs had a mind of their own, heading directly to the nearby hill on the edge of the kingdom. I stumbled a few times as my mind raced faster than my feet, but I quickly picked myself back up and continued on.
Once I was standing, panting, atop the hill, I turned to see the dragon flying in circles around the townspeople as if playing with his food. The people were now huddled together so compactly that if I hadn't seen them moments before, I wouldn't have known they were people. It was then that my heart took control of my hands and I began banging the spoon desperately against the pot. 
Clink, clink, clink.
The dragon's eyes instantly darted in my direction.
My breath stopped for just a moment, watching his massive wings swarming through the air, his body hovering, staring at me.
Clink, clink, clink.
Then it happened. His flames were now rolling towards me as his scaly lizard-like body began to slice through the air like a knife through butter, and I ran.

Written by K, Copyright 2015

I knew she didn't kill Abe

She looked up, and her blue eyes locked on to mine. They held confusion and fear. "I didn't kill him!" she gasped. "You have to believe me!"

This is from The One-Minute Writer, prompting readers to finish this story:

 

     I knew she didn't kill Abe. Even though I could see in her eyes that she deeply believed she did, I knew she didn't. Even Abe knew she didn't. I was amazed I was able to refrain from rolling my eyes.

     I assured her that everything would be okay, that I would take care of the "mess", and ushered out of the apartment. I stood over Abe in pure disgust, taking in all the blood mixed among the dinner half prepared. An accident in the kitchen, of course.

     I kicked him fiercely in the side as he began to stir. I reached down and pulled out the knife that was embedded in his chest, watching the wound heal before my eyes.

     His eyes popped open as he leapt to his feet, brushing pieces of carrots and broccoli from his suite jacket.

     "Your death? That is how you break up with her?" I asked incredulously. Not that I am at all surprised.

     "Eh, she was a bit on the crazy side, it was bound to happen at some point," Abe playfully grinned from ear to ear, revealing the fangs he managed to keep hidden from her for the past four months.

     I turned to walk out the door wondering why I even agreed to stop by.
     "You gonna leave me to clean this up myself?" He asked in a panic.

     "Yep, and you might want to hurry before she returns and finds your love rekindled."

the cookie

She carefully crept down the stairs, her bare feet gently pressing against the floorboards. She grasped the bannister as she maneuvered her body awkwardly, avoiding the creaking spots that would sound off an alarm. Her breath quickened as she grew anxious, nervous to being caught. She blew a stray strand of hair off her eyes so that she might better concentrate on her task at hand. A soft whistling sound wafted through the air as she accidentally used her newfound talent. She paused, alert, listening for her own betrayal, then continued until she was finally at the bottom of the staircase. She walked cautiously to the kitchen, running her hands along the countertop in the darkness, feeling for the slick cold feel of the jar. Her fingertips grazed it, sending goose bumps up her arm as she quietly fumbled for the lid. Her free hand was immediately inside the jar, retrieving her most longed for treasure. She pressed it to her lips and breathed deeply through her nose to smell the wondrous scent before swiftly biting into it. Crumbs rolled down the front of her shirt and onto the floor, waiting to be found in the morning.  

Written by K, Copyright 2014  

* I initially started this flash fiction from Velvet Verbosity's writing prompt (stairs), but of course it ended up much too long to add it to their listing. You can check out the post from that blog here.

sorceress

She stands still, raising her arms as the winds pick up, flailing her tousled and knotted hair behind her. Her lips part as a slur of words spill from her mouth, guttural and deep. Her skin is pale as dusk, her eyes ablaze with the color of fire as her words filter out and around the forest. The trees twist and turn, startled. Leaves begin to shake with the impact, rattling their warning for all who might hear. Branches snap; broken pieces falling to the earth. Birds scream as they flee her presence, desperate to escape. Then all is silent.

Written by K, Copyright 2013

golden gates

by K, Copyright 2013

The boy raced along the broken stones trying to avoid the crumbling debris. He could see the golden artifact, heaven's gates, shining up ahead.

The floors continued to quake, crunching beneath the dragon's thunderous legs. Flames licked around the boy causing him to wince at the intense heat.

His fingertips grazed the artifact, pulling it into his grasp. He turned around to find the tip of the dragon's nose inches from his own; red eyes glaring down at him, as if they were on fire. The boy uttered the unspoken words, allowing the golden gates to transport him back home.

*This is a snippet of a story prompted by this three-minute fiction challenge. However, I will only be submitting it to velvet verbosity's post on this finders keepers prompt. I have to say, it was quite a challenge to shave down almost 400 words to 100 for velvet verbosity's 100 words requirement! But a challenge I enjoyed trying to make happen. 100 words exactly..finally!