Yule Tide Short Story {RW}

Yule Tide Short Story {RW}

The crisp air was scented in cinnamon and roasted chestnuts. The light flurry of falling snow, dusted surfaces that had been cleaned a few hours ago, silver metal becoming cooler to the touch with each passing second. It was the season of ice once more. Solstice had come and Midwinter was upon us. Today was the night that the feasting would begin, the sacrifices would begin, the celebrations would fester.

I breathed out deeply, trying to contain my excitement. My breath slipped out into the air, hot, visible, thick. Rubbing my hands together I let myself simmer in the upcoming festivities. The air stirred above us beckoning us to its grasp. The clouds were dark and spinning, the moon lighting the sky and peaking through when the clouds so wished.

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Shelf-Life Hero (Part 2) [RW10]

Shelf-Life Hero (Part 2) [RW10]

It was raining. Again. Which was not to say that she hated rain, but that it was frustrating conditions to go through when she already had an arm injury that ached from the rain and made her curse the storms.

She’d been injured the first time, on the inside of her forearm, while maneuvering through a course in the rain. She’d been injured, once again on the same arm but the backside, in capture the flag, where she’d saved the flag from drowning in the river. She’d thought herself fine at the time, a few stitches, maybe some healing ointment, and it would be fine.

It was not fine.

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Shelf-Life Hero (Part 1) [RW09]

Shelf-Life Hero (Part 1) [RW09]

It’s hard to imagine a world without heroes.

Throughout all of human history heroes have existed. To vanquish gods and demons alike. To save the collapse of cities. To rise and to fall. They have existed. Forever. In every country. Across the world. Heroes.

And like all heroes there are villains. Villains of such power and magnitude that it took a dozen heroes to take the villain down. Villains whose name strike fear into the hearts of all those who exist today.

In modern society, we know these villains and heroes, throughout all of history, to be derived from twenty mystical powers bestowed to humanity. Of the twenty that were said to have existed, only eighteen remain intact.

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A Tale of Sea Songs [RW08]

A Tale of Sea Songs [RW08]

A soft murmur of voices cascaded through the tavern. Another person dead, last week, from what he could tell. A traveler from a distant place this time. Still, no closer to killing the beasts in the waters off the shore of the village. Still, no closer to saving the town from ruin. Many hunters were in the tavern, hoping to slay the beast. The glory, however, could only go to one of them.

“Are you going to stay, sir?” A small girl, no more than ten asked him. She was a pale thing, scrawny, and dressed in tatters. But there was a beauty to her that would come into fruition as she grew older.

“Yes, a room for one please.” He answered her.

“For a night or forever?” She asked with a tilt of her head and a small smile. From across the tavern he could see the tavern keeper, a beauty to behold in these parts. It was a wonder how some great noble lord had not swept her off her feet and carried her back to his castle. The woman must have been a cunning one, sweet words and bitter lies. A mother teaching this girl to con people with doe eyes.

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Fairy Reverse Story [RW07]

Fairy Reverse Story [RW07]

The day was for monsters. The sun was for the beings that crashed through the forests, and controlled the waters. They thrived in the light, and used fire for protection and destruction. They were children of the heat, and inhibitors of the world. Their children, copious. Their actions, malicious. Their ignorance, incredible.

And the day was theirs.

There was a time, the elders told us,  in which we traveled upon the earth in the day. When we did not have to fight for our lives, and cower in abandoned corners of the world. A time when our people sang bright songs, and guided the monsters. We had thought the monsters incapable of harm, like a child. We had believed them of us, but other in a way. Their otherness was far more than we expected.

And the day was theirs.

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Quake [RW06]

Quake [RW06]

Car lights moved across the glass, refracting into the room and causing shadows to dance across the walls. Thunder rumbled as the sky was lit up once again in a flash of blue that did not belong to a car, lightning? Christopher sat with his back in a corner, breathing deeply. It was becoming increasingly hard for him to breathe as he pulled his knees closer into his chest. The nightmare had been a recurring one: clowns, smiles, guns, screams, and blood. He didn’t want to go to his parents. they didn’t know that he had watched the babysitter’s movie from the shadows of the staircase.

The house creaked. Old houses always made sounds. It was the way they breathed, his father told him. He didn’t like thinking that the house needed to breathe. The house wasn’t alive, or at least he hoped so (he’d seen a movie about a living house once). The house whispered out as if someone was walking through the halls. He knew that it was childish of him to even believe that someone was in his house. His parents had a security system, the best around. No one could break – there was the distinct sound of footsteps. The footsteps were heavy, much like his father’s before morning coffee. Christopher focused on the crack along the door frame, trying to decipher the shape of the changing shadow on the other side of the door. Car lights moved outside, causing the door to glow intensely. Then they bled, and shook, rattling and cascading lighting the world in fire. His entire world was shaking. The fans, the lights, his bed, his world, and he knew it was himself. HIs entire body was jittery as he tried to sit still, silent, hiding.

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The Romeo and Juliet Murders {RW05}

Murder-Suicide. That was the official rumor as to how the Darlings of the city had died. A lavish love affair turned sordid, only no one knew who killed the other. It was one thing for the daughter of a CEO to die suddenly, to be found a few days later dead by bleeding out. It was another to find her dead twice, with the young upstart in the world of business, son of their rival company. Traces of poison were on her lips as well in the system of her lover. It was his knife, but he died from poison. She died from a knife wound (this time, she was dead for sure).

Yet, no one knew who died when. Or why her cousin was dead as well. Or why… well, a lot of people died when connected to the two families. They weren’t exactly on the same side. They held the city in the palm of their hand like the territory they lived on were castles, and all the land they could see was their kingdom. Lots of people had died with connections to the two families, in recent months. Some even said that the two had planned to fake their deaths and were killed by a third, making it a double homicide. All Jules knew was that it could not be this easy.

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Something of a Dream [RW04]

Something of a Dream [RW04]

She awoke as she always did, naked and next to the body of some man who had been far more attractive when she was drunk than when she was sober. The room smelt thick of cigarettes and the memory of smoke that was etched into the walls and carpets from years of filling the room with smoke so thick one could not see. Plucking the glasses — sharp, cat eyed, and thick rimmed — from the bed side table, she slid her feet from the warmth of the body next to her and to the floor where her slippers lay waiting. 

From the covers she flew, discarding them in her wake, uncaring for the body of the man who had no more business remaining in her house. She took three steps before she was searching for her robe. Turning back to her bed, her side was neatly tucked into the bed and a silken robe lay atop it. Snatching it, she haphazardly threw it around her body and rounded the room divider of her studio loft. Her kitchenette was chilled and unused that morning, other than the steaming hot cup of coffee waiting for her in one of her favorite mugs. 

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Memory [RW02]

Memory [RW02]

Memories. They come and go tickling the senses as they do. The smell of grass. An old book. Spring rain. Autumn wind. The feeling of summer’s heat, blue skies, or gray ones if you like. I know that when I hear the sound of bike bells I remember the years of riding our bikes and skate boards and scooters to the park. The baseball game would be going on and with our twenty dollars we could fill up our small bags with candy and sweets. But we had to be fast or else our parents would notice we left the neighborhood. All that candy we just bought? It needed to be scarfed down before we forced our stomachs to endure a healthy food shock that was dinner.

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