Marilyn Velez's Blog, page 2

Come to know The Red Faces

Alongside they sat, in a dull table made of oak as Mrs. Litop said her evening prayer. When her lips sealed and the prayer was over, the men looked toward one another with distrust. They did not speak nor say a word; it was more about glances, and these glances they gave to one another as if some strange and unknown language shared amongst themselves that they alone understood.

The Handler Records a Note

To peel man from his identity, make him feel paralyzed to where he feels absolutely nothing, is a great conquest.

The Letters of Void

At first, it runs empty, tricking the mind as it lures you to its call like a rat in search of food. Then, without thought, madness sets in, and lost to its depths, you become, and all that was and all you were ceases to exist.

A Butcher's Tale

As noted by passersby: A butcher by the name of Dale Cooter is the only living person who witnessed a Dizzanrur. It’s said he frequents the broken-down tavern at the end of the road on Wednesdays. If you spot him, ask him about The Leonard Boys.

 

“I hear you want to buy me a drink in exchange for a story? Well, go on, and don't be cheap for the hands tremble.” Dale Cooter guzzled a shot of brandy while grabbing another. “Ahh… what's that? You're going to have to speak up, son, I'm a bit death in the one ear. Oh, you want to hear about The Leonard Boys? Well, why didn't you say so? That'll cost you extra, but I don't mind as long as memory serves me. Now, let's see, where were we? Ahh… yes, The Leonard Boys.”

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The wench made her rounds serving you and Dale Cooter a plate of cabbage, beans, and stale bread.

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“I was in the woods that day when I saw The Leonard Boys lost their life. It was the end of the day, light was fading, but you know boys, they have to get it right. The two were practicing their hammer throws, they were getting so good. I was so proud of them. That's when I heard the first cry. One of the lads had scratched himself. I laughed it off, keeping a working eye. Moments later, I heard another. I turned around to see what all the din was about when from out of the canopy fell a creature like the shadows of the night. The boys tried to fight it off.” Dale Cooter made the sign of the cross. “May God rest their souls, but they were no match for its size, and before knowing, them poor boys were torn from neck to heel. It all happened so fast, there was naught a thing I could do. If asking, that thing came from out of nowhere, shot straight from the pits of helle! It don't belong here. No sir, it don't belong here.”

The story of The Gaglus

It has been said The Shamazen Dancers belonged to a great and mighty people whose empire lay surrounded by a moat of crystalline waters and whose lands lay far beyond the green hills. Stories claim, within the waters lived strange beasts called Gaglus. They carried one eye and resembled giant worms with many teeth and funnel-like mouths. For many years, the Gaglus guarded the kingdom well, not allowing anyone through. However, when the sun’s light came to a fade, the creatures lost sight, returning to the waters.

 

One evenfall, as the last of the rays set over the hills, a mass of armed men marched over the fells. They came in swarms, carrying vials of a dark matter as they waited for night to rise and when she did, and the creatures lost sight, they ran across the fields, dumping the cursed vials into the waters, taking everyone by surprise.

 

Tales spun by spinsters say that night, the waters ran dark; the fields ran red, and the sound of metal rang through the sky. In the end, The Shamazen Dancers were the only remaining people of this great kingdom.

Toiling through The Village of Ebondenn

It was the year 1005. The sun had not risen, and from Mrs. Lambert's window, the sweet aroma of pies lingered, teasing one's nose.

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Two paces over, in a worn-out mat, a young boy balled up in a blanket, tossed and turned. Beside him lay a small table with a roll of days’ old bread, which mice nibbled and gnawed upon. Waking to the song of a rooster's crow, he sprang up, stretching his arms as he shoved his feet into worn-out leather shoes, rushing out the door.

A prisoner's escape

Deep beneath the castle floors where the minds of men grew dark, and chains rattled day into night laid a man who groaned and panted as he awaited death. During this time, a masked stranger, hooded and cloaked, skulked the halls, slipping in and freeing the man. He led him down a secret corridor leading toward an old, hinged door. In his hand, he held a note, which he gave the man before parting. The man took the note, which he folded and tucked within his pocket as he waited for the guards to switch posts, and when they did, he made his escape, vanishing into the forest.