Two Short Stories
I've been lazy about posting. So I am finally getting around to sharing these two short stories I wrote. It's been awhile since I've written, so any feedback, comments, critique, etc. is appreciated and encouraged.
1. "Winter"
I was feeling rather homesick and missing real seasons something terrible. It inspired me to write this.
I woke up this morning to the sound of the wind in the trees reminding me that winter was coming. I sat up to close the window from that crisp autumn breeze and chanced a peek into the outside. It was nearing the end of October, and the woods already started to look sleepy, confirming what the wind had already told me. I blew into my cupped hands to warm them briefly before clasping the metal handle and, giving it a good shove, closed the window on the dulling world outside for the last time.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and slipped into the gray moccasins waiting from the night before, my feet hugging the curves and indents of the well-worn flannel and faux fur. Their coolness made me feel minutely more alert. They would warm up soon.
I meandered down the dimly lit hallway into the little kitchen, turning directly to the stove to put the kettle on. I pulled a large mug off the drying rack next to the water-stained silver sink. My left hand placed it on the counter next to the already hissing kettle while my right browsed through the boxes of teas lining the wall of the counter. None of them looked appetizing.
Sighing, I turned to the small wooden table littered with sheafs of paper and empty mugs from days bygone. Many of the dirtied mugs still had strings stained brown and gray hanging limply from their lips. I grabbed my heavy deerskin coat from the back of the chair, holding it slightly aloft as I struggled with the flannel one underneath it. Finally managing to free the lighter jacket, I carefully laid the deerskin one back on the chair and made my way to the back door.
I walked out into the garden, the rusty metal hinges creaking as I pushed the weathered wooden gate open. I sidled thorough and made a drowsy beeline to the little patch near the house that I reserved for my herbs. I bent down, smelling the stench of the earth from the sweet morning dew. Most of the herbs were beginning to fade, the dead-brown color creeping up their little stems, infiltrating their leaves. I gingerly sniffed the chamomile, letting it's warm, pungent spice scent soothe my nostrils - it was still fresh. I grabbed a handful.
As I was dusting the earth from my thick cotton pants, I stopped short while there was a flash of yellow in my peripheral. I looked up in time to see a gust of wind burst forth from behind the woods. The leaves rolled in a splendid wave of yellow and red and orange then came to land, scattered, about my feet and the garden in a wet, brown mass.
I turned my gaze back to the forest where gray clouds were lumbering onto the sad yellow sky. And there. Lightning. Quick as an arrow. A few moments bated breath, and, there. The deep growl of the thunder shook a few jittery leaves from the trees. They fell, fluttering wildly, to the ground. A wolf stood at the edge of the forest.
What an awe-inspiring specimen! The wolf was pure white and it stood perfectly still, it's ears erect and tail completely relaxed. It was slightly larger than a regular wolf, and it was facing me. A chill wracked my spine and I shivered, dropping a chamomile plant. It made a small plop as it hit the mud right as another lightning bolt ripped across the sky. The wolf and I shared an abyssal glance before the thunder came lumbering through in another tree-shaking guttural moan.
I took a tentative step backwards. The wolf slowly turned it's majestic head to the sky as more leaves fluttered off their branches, flashing orange and red. And then, the beast began to change.
The wolf rippled from head to tail. It's snow-white body began to warp and stretch. The neck and legs were elongating at an alarming rate and the skin underneath the fur was a pale translucence. Swirls of ethereal teal light swam around under the blindingly white fur. The wolf began panting slightly, it's pink tongue poking in and out of it's mouth like a gopher, tasting the air.
The wolf, at this point, barely resembled any worldly creature. It raised it's enormous head higher and opened it's huge crocodile jaws to the stormy October sky. It whipped it's willowy tail once and, with an ear shattering and Earth rumbling crack of bright blue lightning, it was gone.
I held my breath, and my ground, waiting for the tremors of thunder to pass. The forest gave one last shudder, and then everything was still.
I turned to go back inside - my clothes were damp and my feet were cold, but another low, distant rumble of thunder stopped me. I looked up into the gray sky, bidden by the deep call. Instinctively, I shaded my eyes with the palm of my free hand as the sky became intensely bright. I continued to stare as my vision slowly returned in tiny, glistening specks. I blinked once, slowly, and was kissed by snowflakes.
I opened my eyes to see the dancing white flakes in the air. They drifted onto the trees and the leaves and the earth, covering it with a sparkling frost. They touched down silently around me.
I marveled in the beauty. It was breathtaking.
The spell was broken as my focus shifted to a piercing, distant noise.
The kettle was boiling.
2. "Consumption"
This little story is the result of me playing too much Demon's Souls, I think.
"What do you want from me?" He grabbed the nearest heavy object - a candlestick - and threw it at the advancing man. The candlestick stopped a few inches away from where the man's face would have been and fell to the floor with a loud clang. It resonated on a low "A".
"Heh heh!" Was all the man said. It was all he ever said. And it was maddening.
Richard retreated further back into his study. He was pressed up against his large wooden desk now, the faceless man in black still advancing on him. He was incredibly slow. Richard had outrun the man at first (and many times consecutively) but somehow he always caught up. At the most inopportune moments, too.
The man had first shown up while Richard was out on an evening stroll. Richard had lost himself in some thought and had meandered down a path he had never knew existed. It took him down under a bridge that spanned from one end of thick fog to another. While admiring the strangeness of the bridge, the man had appeared with an ethereal swirl of the mist. After a few seconds of silence, the man had burst into flames with a throaty "Heh heh!" while Richard stood there, motionless with fear and wonder. Richard had then bolted form the site and back into the comfort of his own home. He didn't think much of it until he was at lunch with Kate where upon the man strolled up to the window and stood there, unmoving. Richard, upon seeing the man again, had threw down some cash and had left in a hurry (much to the protests of poor Kate). And then the man showed up at his job, right while he was in a very important meeting. He silently busted through the doors chuckling, "Heh heh!" Richard had nearly pissed himself. He had been running ever since.
And now he seemed to be stuck. Glued to his desk. And he had nowhere to run. Richard took a deep breath to shout another inquisition at the man. But the man stopped advancing.
The man adjusted his ridiculous wide-brimmed, feathered hat into a position that would allow for more vision. That is, if the man had any eyes. But Richard had a feeling this man didn't need any eyes to see with. It was just speculation, though, of course.
Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe this was all a dream and he'd wake up next to (a very intoxicated) Kate with a splitting headache and he'd have a good chuckle and then -
"Heh heh!"
"God damnit! Shut up!" Richard picked up the largest paper weight on his desk and threw it with all his might at the man, hoping against hope it would hit him.
It did. Well, it passed through the man in black and crashed into the bookself on the far wall. It was an improvement from the last attempt Richard had made to strike the man. But something was not right. The air felt dense, and it dripped with tension. Suddenly, the man rippled. And then just as suddenly, Richard found himslef in utter darkness. And he still couldn't move.
"Balls." Richard blinked a few times. He squinted. He shut his eyes tightly for thirty seconds and then opened them up again. There wasn't any change at all. It was completely black. He sighed. This was definitely better than being chased by some thing from somewhere. At least it was peaceful. At least he didn't have to hear that infuriating chuckle. He sighed, again, a little more relaxed.
Except there was something in his eye. He blinked rapidly, not being able to use his hand to rub the speck out. It was still there. And it was getting bigger.
"This must be some unknown circle of hell," thought Richard with dismay. He resigned himself to stare at the speck. There really wasn't anything better to do. Some immeasureable amount of time passed. It could have been forty seconds. It could have been an hour. It all felt the same in this consuming blackness. He thought he could make out some sort of detail on the speck. He continued to stare, trying to make out exactly what it was. It looked almost like features, miniscule features - like those on painstakingly hand painted miniature models of civil war soldiers and the like. Was it really coming closer? It was so difficult to tell.
Richard blinked to get some moisture back into his tired eyes. It definitely was a face. And it was most positively closer. He felt a slight shiver of panic. After the ordeal he went through he was assuming it was a threat to him. A small voice in the back recesses of his mind reminded him that it could very well be friend, and not foe, and that he was judging too soon. Richard clenched his teeth. There was only one way to find out.
He blinked a few times to make sure, and, yes! Everytime he blinked, the face got minutely closer. Unfortunately, there was no judging distance in this hellish place (although it was milder than he thought). He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as tightly as he could and waited.
He would wait for eternity, if he had to. He could wait that long. He'd done his fair share of waiting in various designated rooms for passing idle time. Places like...doctor's waiting rooms. Well, maybe he couldn't wait for eternity, if you put it that way. He opened his eyes.
Richard would have screamed and ran away at the sight of the most terrifying face only inches away from him if he were able to. Excpet the mouth of this face opened into an immense reddish-pink abyss and swallowed him into oblivion.
A grotesquely black, wet tongue slid out from the blue lips and ran itself down the length of the wooden desk back in Ricahrd's study. The man in black licked his ghoulish lips, smirked, and drew the mask back over his face. There was a small creak from the end of the room with the door. The man turned slowly, itrigued, hungry.
Kate stood, trembling and open-mouthed at what was once Richard's study. The thickest fog she had ever seen consumed the entire room and seemed to go on forever into nothingness. She stared in horror as the mist swirled intricately as a faceless man in all black stepped into her view. He burst into wild flames. She screamed.
"Heh heh!"
I'm working on two more. One of which will have an illustration with it.
Peace!
1. "Winter"
I was feeling rather homesick and missing real seasons something terrible. It inspired me to write this.
I woke up this morning to the sound of the wind in the trees reminding me that winter was coming. I sat up to close the window from that crisp autumn breeze and chanced a peek into the outside. It was nearing the end of October, and the woods already started to look sleepy, confirming what the wind had already told me. I blew into my cupped hands to warm them briefly before clasping the metal handle and, giving it a good shove, closed the window on the dulling world outside for the last time.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and slipped into the gray moccasins waiting from the night before, my feet hugging the curves and indents of the well-worn flannel and faux fur. Their coolness made me feel minutely more alert. They would warm up soon.
I meandered down the dimly lit hallway into the little kitchen, turning directly to the stove to put the kettle on. I pulled a large mug off the drying rack next to the water-stained silver sink. My left hand placed it on the counter next to the already hissing kettle while my right browsed through the boxes of teas lining the wall of the counter. None of them looked appetizing.
Sighing, I turned to the small wooden table littered with sheafs of paper and empty mugs from days bygone. Many of the dirtied mugs still had strings stained brown and gray hanging limply from their lips. I grabbed my heavy deerskin coat from the back of the chair, holding it slightly aloft as I struggled with the flannel one underneath it. Finally managing to free the lighter jacket, I carefully laid the deerskin one back on the chair and made my way to the back door.
I walked out into the garden, the rusty metal hinges creaking as I pushed the weathered wooden gate open. I sidled thorough and made a drowsy beeline to the little patch near the house that I reserved for my herbs. I bent down, smelling the stench of the earth from the sweet morning dew. Most of the herbs were beginning to fade, the dead-brown color creeping up their little stems, infiltrating their leaves. I gingerly sniffed the chamomile, letting it's warm, pungent spice scent soothe my nostrils - it was still fresh. I grabbed a handful.
As I was dusting the earth from my thick cotton pants, I stopped short while there was a flash of yellow in my peripheral. I looked up in time to see a gust of wind burst forth from behind the woods. The leaves rolled in a splendid wave of yellow and red and orange then came to land, scattered, about my feet and the garden in a wet, brown mass.
I turned my gaze back to the forest where gray clouds were lumbering onto the sad yellow sky. And there. Lightning. Quick as an arrow. A few moments bated breath, and, there. The deep growl of the thunder shook a few jittery leaves from the trees. They fell, fluttering wildly, to the ground. A wolf stood at the edge of the forest.
What an awe-inspiring specimen! The wolf was pure white and it stood perfectly still, it's ears erect and tail completely relaxed. It was slightly larger than a regular wolf, and it was facing me. A chill wracked my spine and I shivered, dropping a chamomile plant. It made a small plop as it hit the mud right as another lightning bolt ripped across the sky. The wolf and I shared an abyssal glance before the thunder came lumbering through in another tree-shaking guttural moan.
I took a tentative step backwards. The wolf slowly turned it's majestic head to the sky as more leaves fluttered off their branches, flashing orange and red. And then, the beast began to change.
The wolf rippled from head to tail. It's snow-white body began to warp and stretch. The neck and legs were elongating at an alarming rate and the skin underneath the fur was a pale translucence. Swirls of ethereal teal light swam around under the blindingly white fur. The wolf began panting slightly, it's pink tongue poking in and out of it's mouth like a gopher, tasting the air.
The wolf, at this point, barely resembled any worldly creature. It raised it's enormous head higher and opened it's huge crocodile jaws to the stormy October sky. It whipped it's willowy tail once and, with an ear shattering and Earth rumbling crack of bright blue lightning, it was gone.
I held my breath, and my ground, waiting for the tremors of thunder to pass. The forest gave one last shudder, and then everything was still.
I turned to go back inside - my clothes were damp and my feet were cold, but another low, distant rumble of thunder stopped me. I looked up into the gray sky, bidden by the deep call. Instinctively, I shaded my eyes with the palm of my free hand as the sky became intensely bright. I continued to stare as my vision slowly returned in tiny, glistening specks. I blinked once, slowly, and was kissed by snowflakes.
I opened my eyes to see the dancing white flakes in the air. They drifted onto the trees and the leaves and the earth, covering it with a sparkling frost. They touched down silently around me.
I marveled in the beauty. It was breathtaking.
The spell was broken as my focus shifted to a piercing, distant noise.
The kettle was boiling.
2. "Consumption"
This little story is the result of me playing too much Demon's Souls, I think.
"What do you want from me?" He grabbed the nearest heavy object - a candlestick - and threw it at the advancing man. The candlestick stopped a few inches away from where the man's face would have been and fell to the floor with a loud clang. It resonated on a low "A".
"Heh heh!" Was all the man said. It was all he ever said. And it was maddening.
Richard retreated further back into his study. He was pressed up against his large wooden desk now, the faceless man in black still advancing on him. He was incredibly slow. Richard had outrun the man at first (and many times consecutively) but somehow he always caught up. At the most inopportune moments, too.
The man had first shown up while Richard was out on an evening stroll. Richard had lost himself in some thought and had meandered down a path he had never knew existed. It took him down under a bridge that spanned from one end of thick fog to another. While admiring the strangeness of the bridge, the man had appeared with an ethereal swirl of the mist. After a few seconds of silence, the man had burst into flames with a throaty "Heh heh!" while Richard stood there, motionless with fear and wonder. Richard had then bolted form the site and back into the comfort of his own home. He didn't think much of it until he was at lunch with Kate where upon the man strolled up to the window and stood there, unmoving. Richard, upon seeing the man again, had threw down some cash and had left in a hurry (much to the protests of poor Kate). And then the man showed up at his job, right while he was in a very important meeting. He silently busted through the doors chuckling, "Heh heh!" Richard had nearly pissed himself. He had been running ever since.
And now he seemed to be stuck. Glued to his desk. And he had nowhere to run. Richard took a deep breath to shout another inquisition at the man. But the man stopped advancing.
The man adjusted his ridiculous wide-brimmed, feathered hat into a position that would allow for more vision. That is, if the man had any eyes. But Richard had a feeling this man didn't need any eyes to see with. It was just speculation, though, of course.
Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe this was all a dream and he'd wake up next to (a very intoxicated) Kate with a splitting headache and he'd have a good chuckle and then -
"Heh heh!"
"God damnit! Shut up!" Richard picked up the largest paper weight on his desk and threw it with all his might at the man, hoping against hope it would hit him.
It did. Well, it passed through the man in black and crashed into the bookself on the far wall. It was an improvement from the last attempt Richard had made to strike the man. But something was not right. The air felt dense, and it dripped with tension. Suddenly, the man rippled. And then just as suddenly, Richard found himslef in utter darkness. And he still couldn't move.
"Balls." Richard blinked a few times. He squinted. He shut his eyes tightly for thirty seconds and then opened them up again. There wasn't any change at all. It was completely black. He sighed. This was definitely better than being chased by some thing from somewhere. At least it was peaceful. At least he didn't have to hear that infuriating chuckle. He sighed, again, a little more relaxed.
Except there was something in his eye. He blinked rapidly, not being able to use his hand to rub the speck out. It was still there. And it was getting bigger.
"This must be some unknown circle of hell," thought Richard with dismay. He resigned himself to stare at the speck. There really wasn't anything better to do. Some immeasureable amount of time passed. It could have been forty seconds. It could have been an hour. It all felt the same in this consuming blackness. He thought he could make out some sort of detail on the speck. He continued to stare, trying to make out exactly what it was. It looked almost like features, miniscule features - like those on painstakingly hand painted miniature models of civil war soldiers and the like. Was it really coming closer? It was so difficult to tell.
Richard blinked to get some moisture back into his tired eyes. It definitely was a face. And it was most positively closer. He felt a slight shiver of panic. After the ordeal he went through he was assuming it was a threat to him. A small voice in the back recesses of his mind reminded him that it could very well be friend, and not foe, and that he was judging too soon. Richard clenched his teeth. There was only one way to find out.
He blinked a few times to make sure, and, yes! Everytime he blinked, the face got minutely closer. Unfortunately, there was no judging distance in this hellish place (although it was milder than he thought). He took a deep breath and shut his eyes as tightly as he could and waited.
He would wait for eternity, if he had to. He could wait that long. He'd done his fair share of waiting in various designated rooms for passing idle time. Places like...doctor's waiting rooms. Well, maybe he couldn't wait for eternity, if you put it that way. He opened his eyes.
Richard would have screamed and ran away at the sight of the most terrifying face only inches away from him if he were able to. Excpet the mouth of this face opened into an immense reddish-pink abyss and swallowed him into oblivion.
A grotesquely black, wet tongue slid out from the blue lips and ran itself down the length of the wooden desk back in Ricahrd's study. The man in black licked his ghoulish lips, smirked, and drew the mask back over his face. There was a small creak from the end of the room with the door. The man turned slowly, itrigued, hungry.
Kate stood, trembling and open-mouthed at what was once Richard's study. The thickest fog she had ever seen consumed the entire room and seemed to go on forever into nothingness. She stared in horror as the mist swirled intricately as a faceless man in all black stepped into her view. He burst into wild flames. She screamed.
"Heh heh!"
I'm working on two more. One of which will have an illustration with it.
Peace!