tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91373143853038266882024-02-08T12:26:38.802-08:00Maniac's Scrapbook Weird tales, stories, and musings.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06658603311518698519noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9137314385303826688.post-25370854275057435942012-11-02T05:24:00.000-07:002012-11-02T06:52:16.657-07:00Switch<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><u><span lang="EN-GB">Switch<br />
</span></u></b><span lang="EN-GB"><br />
<br />
Frank lumbered down the stairs, dragging the heavy sack behind him. How could
he let her get him into this mess?<br />This was the seventeenth time he’d been coerced
into cleaning up one of her catastrophes. Sometimes it was as simple as making
an apology or forking out bail, other times it was hiding a dead man; the
curse of loving a lunatic.<br /><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hurry the fuck up.” Samantha shouted from
the kitchen and took a final, long drag from her cigarette before stubbing it
out.<br />
<br />
“I'm moving as fast as I can. He’s a heavy bastard.” Frank heaved the sack across the hallway towards the
front door and took a glance back at the stain trailing behind him along the
carpet. “And he’s fucking leaking Sam!”<br />
<br />
Samantha smirked as she slid on her leather gloves and strutted from the
kitchen into the hallway, her blonde hair scrapped back atop her head with military
precision and her long legs concealed in a pair of black jeans.<br />
<br />
“Stop being such a girl.” She said, stepping over the dark stain on the carpet.
“We’ll clean it later.”<br />
<br />
Frank sighed, she meant of course that <i>he</i>
would clean it later. He pushed his steamed glasses up his nose and his hair
from his eyes then heaved the load out the front door. It was best not to
complain too much, he thought, she was calm for now but her temper could be a volatile
beast.<br />
<br />
She skipped ahead and jumped into the driver seat of the truck. She was always
the driver on these nights and he, always the passenger.<br />
<br />
“Fling him in the back with the spades.” She said, winding down her window to
light up another cigarette. <br />
<br />
Frank did as he was told and then slid into the passenger seat, making sure to
buckle his seatbelt – Samantha’s driving was as terrifying as her temper,
perhaps more so. She smiled at him and flicked the smouldering tip between her
fingers. <br />
<br />
“I love you Frank.” She said.<br />
<br />
“I love you too Sammy.” He replied and leaned his head in for her light kiss on
his cheek – his payment for his work.<br />
<br />
The drive was like any other night, out of the city, past the suburbs and on to
the country roads, towards the forest. This was the best hour, a serene quiet
would settle in the truck, with only the purr of the engine and the gentle
fizzle of Samantha’s cigarette soothing the silence between the pair. It would
be enjoyable, were it not for the speed they were hurtling along the road at.
It was a wonder they’d never been caught for speeding never mind the body parts
rolling around in the back.<br />
<br />
Sometimes Frank would spare a thought for the poor bastards, silently of
course, to himself. Sometimes he wondered who they were, or what they’d done to
wrong the she-devil sitting beside him. He learned quickly that questions weren’t
welcome; his job was to help her clean up the mess, not to ask the ‘whys’ and ‘what
fors’ of the situation.<br />
<br />
After the hour, the truck came to a stop.<br />
<br />
“Get out.” Samantha said, opening her door and hopping out into the night. <br />
<br />
The forest air was still that night, no scurry of wildlife or hooting owls, not
even a slight breeze against the leaves. Frank’s stomach flipped inside him as
he got out the truck; something wasn’t right.<br />
<br />
“Sam, this doesn’t feel right.” He said, against all better judgement. “I have
a bad feeling.”<br />
<br />
She laughed from over by one of the trees, her eyes to the ground scouting out
the perfect digging spot.<br />
<br />
“Shut up you idiot.” She said. “It’s just like any other night. Go get the
spades.”<br />
<br />
He did as he was told and unloaded the spades and heavy sack from the back of
the truck, then dumped the sack on the ground and handed a spade over to Samantha; he clutched his own tightly.<br />
<br />
“Here.” She said, pointing down at a spot on the ground by the tree. “Get
digging here.”<br />
<br />
The next forty minutes, Frank dug the hole, deeper and deeper into the earth.
He hated this part, often wondering if she would leave him there in the hole
and drive off laughing into the night. She could easily do so and would it
really surprise him if she did? It was just her sick sense of humour to do such a thing.<br />
It was as that thought passed his mind, the crashing blow from behind sparked a
fire inside his head and his vision seeped to black.<br />
<br />
Frank didn’t know how long he was out cold for, it could have been minutes or hours,
but when he came to, his mouth tasted of earth and his vision was blurred.<br />
<br />
“My glasses.” He said in a daze, raking his fingers through the loose soil.<br />
<br />
He could hear Samantha laughing above him and turned to see her standing over
him with her hands on her hips and the sack by her side.<br />
<br />
“What’s... What’s going on Sammy?” He said, squinting to look at her blurry
figure.<br />
<br />
“What do you think?” She said and picked up the sack. “You really are a fucking
idiot Frank.”<br />
<br />
With that, she tipped the contents of the sack, and the parts tumbled into the
hole. Not man parts – animal parts. Squirrels, some rabbits, two cats, and the
neighbour’s dog, each of them with throat slit and stomach open. Frank let out
a cry as the stinking heap of death came down on top of him.<br />
Still, she continued to laugh.<br />
<br />
“Is this a fucking joke Sam?” He shouted up at her and her cackling stopped.<br />
<br />
“No Frank.” She said, reaching down to take something Frank couldn’t see out
from the rim of her boot.<br />
<br />
He opened his mouth to speak but the words were halted on his tongue as two
shots rang out, breaking the silence of the night, and again his vision faded to black.<br />
<br />
Samantha stood for a while, smoking a cigarette and admiring her work, before
tossing the gun into the hole, along with a confessional suicide note signed ‘Frank’.
She smiled to herself as she skipped back to the truck and drove off into the
night.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06658603311518698519noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9137314385303826688.post-90877792780253586162012-10-27T01:56:00.002-07:002012-10-27T02:39:00.195-07:00The Testimony of Morton Anderson (1942)<b><u><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /><br />The Testimony of Morton Anderson (1942)<br />
</span></u></b><span lang="EN-GB"><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
I stood with my torch light quivering in the thick evening air. I was exhausted;
we’d been out in the jungle since the early morning you see, searching for the
tomb. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
It was said the tomb of Zian is located deep within the centre of the Amazon
jungle and is, according to our sources, filled with treasures no man could
ever imagine, thus the cause for our laboured efforts.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
No one believed we’d find it, they told us back in Cambridge that we were insane
for even trying. They were wrong of course, they always are, but my god do I
wish we’d listened to them. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
That night we found the tomb, at the base of a small unnatural-looking hill, just
where Reynolds said it would be.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Morton, hold the torch up high.” He said to me as he wiped the sweat from his
brow with his shirt and continued hacking at the layer of vines criss-crossing
over the stone slab that was, he assured me, the entrance to the damned place.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
I did as he said and held the torch up. In its light I could see the slab sat
raised from the ground and did appear to be a doorway. But there was no temple,
no temple above ground at least. This doorway led beneath the earth.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Morton! Light!” Reynolds shouted at me over his shoulder when my attention faltered
and I snapped to attention, raising the torch again. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
There was something about this door you see, something hypnotic. I can’t quite
place the sensation that came over me, as though it lulled me into a trance. Or
perhaps it was just the heat getting under my skin. Either way, Reynolds seemed
unaffected by the sensation and continued slashing through the undergrowth
until the slab was revealed in its entirety. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
We both stood back in awe of the thing. It was made of fine marble and
intricately carved with swirls and knots of the very vines which had concealed
it, with the fabled deity himself, Zian, sat amidst the jumble, his body
wrapped in the vines and his face wide eyed with mouth open in a silent ‘O’. It
was unsettling to say the least.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“We did it lad!” Reynolds slapped me hard across the back and his teeth flashed
a pearly grin. “Grab your spade boy, help me lift the stone.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Are you certain this is a good idea?” I replied, aware that the hypnotic
effect now felt stronger than before. “We don’t know what we’ll find down
there.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
He snorted in response, ignored my hesitations, and wedged the end of his
spade against the side of the slab. I slapped a mosquito from my arm (they seemed
to multiply thrice for each one I killed) and reached to grab my spade. But before
I could lean to help, Reynolds had already shifted the stone with ease, as
though it willed itself into movement for him.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Well, that was easy.” He beamed and lowered onto his haunches to take a
look in the dark hole in the ground. “Morton, shine the torch in will you lad?”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
In the light we could see the sheer depth of the entrance, a
long tunnel which seemed to extend through the hill and down into the core of
the earth. The dusty air tickled my nose and I stifled a sneeze, fearing
disturbing the quiet which seemed to descend on us from the moment we uncovered
the stone.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Right,” Reynolds stood back up and dusted the loose soil from his palms and
knees. “On you go then lad.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Excuse me?” I said with, I’m sure, my jaw at my ankles. “You want </span></span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">me</i><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> to go inside?” </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Of course. What do you think I’m paying you for?” He replied with a frown. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
I couldn’t argue with the man, not in that heat and with fatigue hanging over
me, so I did as he said and crouched to crawl into the hole.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Take this.” Reynolds handed me an end of rope and tied the other end round the
nearest tree. “I’ll keep the torch here and shine it in after you. When you get
to the tomb, call out to me.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
I nodded and began my crawl into the dark, rope held tightly in one hand. I don’t
know what possessed me to agree to this insanity in the first place, perhaps
adventure, perhaps the promise of riches, but I can tell you, in that moment
there was no good reason in my mind to be crawling into that place. It stank of
damp earth and the musky decay of rotting vegetation. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Get moving!” Reynolds shouted from behind me. “We don’t have much time.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
I grumbled to myself and continued my shuffle through the tunnel until I hit a
block in my way; a thick veil of moss or a spider’s web or some other sticky
substance that clung to my face and clogged my nostrils. I let out a yell but
there was no response from behind. I presumed I was too far into the earth at
this point for Reynolds to hear me and continued forward. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
As I crawled the tunnel appeared to narrow and shrink in around me the further
I went. I kept my breathing steady and quickened my pace but the faster I moved
the tighter the earth seemed to close in and the wetter the soil felt under my
palms. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
I could feel the panic of claustrophobia flutter in my chest (I’ve never been comfortable
with confined spaces), let out a gasp and struggled to contort myself into a
position that would allow me to retreat. But as I turned myself round in this
small space, the earth shook and suddenly collapsed around me in a haze of soil and
vines. A blast of air gushed by, not from the outside but from
behind, from the core of the tomb. The air seemed to moan, and I swear now,
I am certain I heard a voice boom from the depths. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
I began crawling back to the point I had entered but the further back I went,
the tighter the tunnel closed, until I was scrambling through on my stomach
with grit scrapping at the skin on my face and arms. Vines twisted and wrapped round my ankles and
legs, pulling me back into the dark but I fought against them, gripping my rope
against their tug. I could see the light of the torch ahead of me and called
out to Reynolds but he didn’t reply.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
My heart thudded in my chest and the air continued to howl through the narrow
passageway as I scrambled towards freedom, each movement more sluggish than the
last. Until eventually, I laid a hand out into the open air, pushing through a final
thick knot of vine to haul myself from the tunnel.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
I lay gasping on the jungle floor for some time before I found the energy to
sit up. And when I looked to see the passageway I had escaped from, it was
entirely covered in vines, branches and leaves of all kinds, right the way
through. I shuddered at what could have been my own tomb and stood up.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
It was then I saw Reynolds - what was left of Reynolds. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
The air was so still around the pieces as they hung suspended by vines,
twisting in the dark air like dripping ornaments for all to admire. I </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">couldn't</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> tear my eyes from the sight, until a rustle from the howling tunnel behind snapped
me from my stare and at last sent my feet into motion through the jungle. I ran
for some distance until I reached the edge of a nearby village. Only then did I
stop to vomit. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
The villagers found me a few hours later, or so I am told, slick with blood
across my face and hands and all down my front. When I explained what happened
they said we were fools, that we broke an ancient curse and freed the deity from
his prison. I brushed off their tales at first, but soon came to realise the
truth. It was several days later those villagers began to disappear. And each
one who disappeared was discovered as Reynolds had been, hanging in pieces by
the vines of the jungle. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
Being arrested and brought back to England, came as a blessing to me in that
nightmare. I dread to think how many have died since I left. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
Perhaps I am responsible in my own way for these crimes, but I tell you now, I
am no murderer. What I saw in the jungle is what I know to be the truth. We
unleashed something into the world that night, something we could never have
imagined, and now there is no way for me to stop it. </span></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06658603311518698519noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9137314385303826688.post-72060430708462898682012-10-22T23:02:00.000-07:002012-10-23T18:03:45.927-07:00The PrinceSo I guess a good place to start with my blogging would be with a little story.<br />
This one has been inspired by this week's Flash Fiction Challenge over at Terrible Minds.<br />
(You can see the challenge and try it yourself <u><a href="http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2012/10/19/flash-fiction-challenge-five-ingredients-make-a-story/">here.</a></u>)<br />
<br />
I decided to have some fun with this and go all-out on the melodrama. So I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<u><b>The Prince<br /></b></u><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Annabelle
looked down across the green below her. What a wonderful day to be young and
carefree, she thought. With the sun on her back and nothing but sweet country
air and wisps of summer breeze tickling at her bare neck and arms, there wasn’t
a single niggling anxiety in her usually troubled mind. If only Dr. Breen could
see her now.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She closed her eyes and lay back against the grass. Yes, this was heaven, or
at least as close as she could ever get, considering everything that had
happened these past months. Delusional, suicidal, slit and cut in all manner of
ways. They said she’d never be happy, that she’d never find peace from her own
mind. But they were wrong, she was proving that now.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She listened as the breeze rustled in the branches above her and water
trickled across pebbles in the stream down the grassy knoll. A bird chirped, a
bee buzzed and a small toad croaked gently by her side. She opened an eye to
look at the creature. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“You’re a strange looking one.” She said softly to the toad, a bloated thing,
about twice the size of any other toad she’d seen and several shades brighter.
</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
The creature stared up at her with its goggle-eyes and croaked again, turning
on the spot to face away from her and display the shining blue and red
hues across its back, before hopping forward through the grass. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She watched as it progressed into the open green and her curiosity piqued. Such
a beautiful thing and surely not native to rural England, she thought, perhaps
it was poisonous or an escaped pet? The only decent thing to do would be to
capture it.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
As she got up, dusted the loose blades of grass from her jeans and walked
towards the toad, a small brown rabbit skipped into her path. She stopped, waiting
for the animal to flee, but instead it stayed and regarded
her with quivering eyes. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She stared back at it, aware that her toad was now some way into the distance. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Shoo.” She waved her hands at the rabbit “Go about your business.” </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
With a twitch of its nose it was off, but not far, remaining several hops
closer than was natural for such a timid creature. </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Such a strange situation, she thought to herself, to be stalked by a rabbit
while chasing a toad. Perhaps the countryside </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">wouldn't</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> bring her the peace she
was searching for after all.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She let the thought pass, her life </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">wasn't</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> welcome here. This place seemed to
drip with enchantment, and her life was anything but enchanted. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She continued walking, keeping her eyes to the ground for any sign of the toad,
when her foot came up against a block in her way, something wooden. She glanced
up, expecting to see a tree stump or fallen branch but instead was greeted by
the most impossible sight – a door.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
A sigh escaped her lips and she closed her eyes tight. Another hallucination,
how stupid she was to presume she could escape her own mind. Dr. Breen was
right, running wasn’t the answer to her problems. But when she opened her eyes,
the door remained in front of her. She reached out a hand and felt the grain of
the oak beneath her fingers – no, this was no trick of the mind, this was real.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She examined the door carefully; a brass handle, an oak frame, yet nothing
behind. It was merely a door, standing in the middle of the open grass without purpose. A door begging to be opened, and who knew what
opportunities or worlds or distant dreams lay beyond?</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She laid her fingertips on the handle and hesitated a moment, turning back to
the rabbit. It sat in the grass a few paces behind her, a natural look of fear
pinned across its face. It twitched its nose and blinked, shuffling its feet in
the grass.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Should I open it?” Annabelle asked, but the rabbit continued to stare. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
Foolish, she scolded herself, who asks permission from a rabbit anyway?</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
With excitement bubbling in her chest, she took a breath, gripped the handle
tightly, and flung the door open. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
The sight that lay beyond seized the breath in her throat and froze the blood
in her veins. No English countryside, no new worlds, no dreams, no light; nothing.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She stared into the black emptiness in front of her and felt her heart sink
deep into her bowels. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“What is this?” She said, as she tore her vision away from the darkness back to
the sunlight, and back to the rabbit.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“What the hell is going on here?” She demanded of the small creature, but as
she did so, a sound echoed from the empty hole behind her – a croak.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She spun back round, and peered into the darkness; there, at the brink, just
beyond the </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">door-frame,</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> sat the toad, gazing up at her with forlorn eyes and
pulsing throat. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
Without a thought, she reached to grab the amphibian, lest it be lost into the
abyss. But as she reached out, the toad hopped away from her.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“No!” She said, surprised by the concern in her own tone.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She took a step forward, edging into the dark, and reached again. But again the
toad eluded her grasp.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“God damn you.” She said, and took several strides forward, before all trace of
light disappeared from behind her with a soft click.</span></span><br />
<i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Too far.</i><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She spun round, her eyes darting in the emptiness but the doorway was gone, and
the toad well out of sight. She sat down on the spot, wrapping
her arms around her knees.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“They always warned you’d lose yourself in your own mind.” She said into the
dark, without expecting response.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">But here you are anyway</span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.</i><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">” The reply
came from every corner of the emptiness. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She buried her head in her knees as she drew them closer to her chest.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“You’re not real.” She said “None of this is real. I’m having another black
out, and when I wake up, I’m going home.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">You’re already home</span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.</i><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">” The voice
responded. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She buried her head further and waited. That was all she had to do in these
situations - wait. And when she had waited long enough the real world would
return and she’d find herself strapped to a bed or with a needle in her arm.
She shuddered at the thought, perhaps reality </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><i>wasn't</i></span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> any better than this.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
As she sat clutching her knees, a faint sound laced through the shadows, a
tinkle, music, (if it could be called music at all) a strange combination of
keys and tones, none of which blended to form any sort of recognisable tune. She
raised her head to listen.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
Yes; it was definitely music, but far out of tune, as though someone were
playing on a broken harp or a faulty keyboard. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Do you hear my song?</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">” The whispered
voice echoed.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“It’s no song.” Annabelle replied “It’s just noise.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She stood up and wandered in the dark, her eyes had begun adjusting to the new
surrounding, and she could see that she was not in fact suspended in a state of
nothingness, but was in a dark room with wooden floor and low wooden ceiling but
without walls that she could see. It was mostly dark at least; but for a small
glimmer of light several paces from her.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“What is that?” She asked the voice but received no reply. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She continued towards the ball of light and source of the flat song the voice
had proudly claimed as its own. And as she neared, the light sparkled like a thousand
tiny diamonds, beckoning her, calling her towards it. The noise
which had seemed so garish now appeared to take form and voice of its own, singing
her name in its flat chords.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She reached down to pick up the glimmering ball and turned it over in her
hands. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
It was a small round box, which rotated in her hand as she held it, the two
halves of the sphere turning in opposite directions, glittering all the while.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“A music box!” She said in an almost childish glee. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
In all of this darkness and uncertainty, it was as though she had found some
hidden treasure never before seen by human eyes.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Yes</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.” The whispered voice said from
behind her.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She turned quickly to try and catch a glimpse of its owner, and was unsurprised
to look down at her feet and see her old friend, the toad.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“What are you?” She said.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Trapped</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.” The toad replied in its
raspy tone without moving its lips.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Trapped by what?” </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">The ancient curse. The only curse</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
Annabelle looked at the glittering ball in her hand and back down at the toad.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Is </span></span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">this</i><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> cursed?” She asked holding
the orb out in front of her.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">It traps my soul, and tortures my mind
with its song</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.” The toad said with a whine. “</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">It is my curse to remain trapped in this place</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
Annabelle looked at the little creature and felt a heartbreaking sadness wash
through her. Perhaps this </span></span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">is</i><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> a
fairytale, perhaps she is a princess destined to save a prince from his exile
in this dark place.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“How can I help you?” She asked.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Break it</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.” The toad replied quickly.
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Smash it to the ground and end its song</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
Annabelle looked once more at the shimmering ball in her palm.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Do it</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.” The toad said, excitement
bubbling in its raspy throat. “</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Save me
from my torture. Restore me</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.”</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
Without another thought, Annabelle threw the sphere to her feet and watched as
it exploded in a silent puff of tiny crystals in the air. The glittering dust
whirled around her feet and legs and up into the air around her, catching her
throat and fizzing up her nostrils as tremors erupted all around the dark
expanse.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“What’s happening?” She said, trying to steady herself in the whirl of
sparkling air as the ground beneath her feet quaked. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
The toad </span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">didn't</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"> reply, and the dust whipped into a sudden storm of wild air and
shards of crystal blasting against her face.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“What’s happening!” Annabelle shouted above the growing din. </span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">Freedom</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.” A voice spoke out in front of
her, but it was not the voice of the toad, or at least, it was not the the voice of the toad </span></span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">now</i><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
She shielded her eyes against the gale and peered into the chaos, to see a
shadow, large and looming in front of her. Her eyes widened despite the grit,
and a scream fled her lungs and danced about the swirling air as the shadow set its glowing stare on her.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
This was no prince, no prince of any world she could ever conjure up inside her
own mind, no prince that belonged in any world other than this dark place of
emptiness.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
“Please...” She uttered, before the shadow engulfed her in the gaping chasm of
its jaws, and the darkness was left to silence.</span></span><br />
<br /><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;">
A few paces from the spot where the impossible door once stood, an impossible
door which leads to an impossible place no passer-by ever returns from, a
small brown rabbit sat and blinked in the sunlight. It flicked a fly from its ear and a tiny sigh passed its twitching
nose, as it returned to its vigil atop the grassy knoll and awaited the
next lost soul. </span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06658603311518698519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9137314385303826688.post-62219281320425548052012-10-22T20:43:00.000-07:002012-10-22T20:43:15.155-07:00Hello and WelcomeHi there, and welcome to my dark little corner of the internet. Don't mind the tumbleweeds.<br /><br />I created this space as a sort of e-scrapbook to jot down any musings, stories, and general thoughts I have as I journey along the weathered road of novel writing, story telling and general penmonkeying around. <br />(See the masterful <a href="http://terribleminds.com/ramble/">Chuck Wendig</a> should you have any questions on being a penmonkey.)<br /><br />I can't promise everything in this blog will be worth reading,or that I'll even post with any great frequency, but if you've somehow managed to end up here, I offer you a welcome and hope you enjoy my ramblings.<br /><br /><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06658603311518698519noreply@blogger.com0