M.S. Watson's Blog, page 16
January 10, 2012
52 Week Short Story Writing Challenge - #8
Background:I have been sitting down to write a short story every week but latelyI've been suffering severe writers block both in short stories andthe novel series I've been writing recently. So this is my attemptat writing something while I'm in the middle of my writers block.
ShortStory #8 - The Nymph
Elliesat at the edge of the garden, looking down at the river that woundits way down the hillside. It glowed with light reflected from thedimming afternoon sky, turning the surface a pale purple as the suncollapsed behind a tree-covered hill. Her sister Rika was laughingnearby as she played with the farmer's son from down thecobblestone path, the children hiding in the trees as dusk neared."Supperis almost ready," their mother called. "Lucas, it's time foryou to go home now." The blonde-haired boy looked up and took hishat off, elegantly bowing."Asyou wish," he said. He turned to Rika, gently kissing the knucklesof her hand. "I will see you tomorrow." Rika blushed crimson andnodded, giggling as she ran to the open back door. Ellie got to herfeet, brushing clean the skirts she wore but stopped midway back totheir house. The darkening yard always had a multitude of noises,from birds to small creatures flitting through the trees but therewas nothing. Only the sound of the rushing river gave away herability to hear at all.Ellieturned to start walking but something caught her eye, by the stonefence. She turned to find a stranger there, looking down at a smallfigure in the palm of his hand. The figure wore wings and a dress ofthe palest blue, little ears pointed as she gestured in varyingdirections. Ellie took a step and the figure froze, looking at Elliewith horror etched across her elfin features. The stranger noticedher too and walked to the gate, their face hidden by the depths ofthe hood they wore.PanickedEllie ran inside the house and locked the door, taking the stairs twoat a time until she flung herself in her room and shut the door. Sheturned on her heel, leaning against it with her eyes shut butscreamed when she opened them. The figure was standing before her, amasculine hand covering her mouth. Her screams were dimmed andsuddenly she was over his shoulder and out the window. The free-fallto the ground below terrified her but the stranger landed with thelitheness of a cat.Theriver raged nearby as the stranger carried her writhing form over it,the nymph leading the way. Ellie managed to kick the stranger in thestomach and she rolled to the ground, taking off running the momentshe stopped. The skirts she wore were heavy and her hair came freefrom where it was pinned; her breath was laboured as she pushedherself to run faster.Shecould hear the boots of the stranger thudding against the ground, theslight tingle of the nymph's harsh but beautiful laughter. Itscraped through Ellie's head and left it throbbing. A tree rootjutting from the ground became her undoing as she lifted her skirtsand prepared to leap over it, the fabric snagging on a loose branch.She tumbled to the ground and a heavy weight came down on her,knocking her unconscious…Theynever did find her body, only the stains of blood from a shock animalattack. Only the nymph and her master know the truth.
52 Week Short Story Writing Challenge - #9
Background:So my writers block continues and I truly have no idea what to write,I apologize. This is just something I scraped up from the remnants ofcreativity in my mind, a short story of an evil woman with the intentof gaining power but gaining something so much more valuable.
ShortStory # - CrystalAzarialooked at the crystal in her palm, the twinkling surface and thepower it represented. She chose not to look at the mundane bodiesthat littered the ground around her, their decaying bodies rotting inthe dark alley. Fifteen of them to try and protect the crystal she'dtried so hard to obtain. She heard him before he stepped to her side,the insider who had helped her retrieve the gem."Areyou pleased now, milady?" Domnicus murmured; his breath a cloud ofwhiteness on the blackened air of evening. Even the streetlampsappeared to be choked by the darkness. Azaria trailed a pale whitehand down his arm, lacing her fingers through his. They looked likethe sun and the moon, his skin sun-bronzed whilst hers resembled thewhiteness of the moon's face."IndeedI am," she said, gazing into the crystal. Domnicus said somethingbut she couldn't hear him, a rushing noise blocking out the night.The crystal burst into a sudden bright light, blinding Domnicus andforcing him to his knees but the light was somehow caressing Azaria.In the crystal she saw the nightmares she always suffered, thechildhood she had learned to bury in the recesses of her mind.Theabuse that had led her to searching for the crystal and its power.Azariagasped as the light found the veins in her wrists and started fillingher, killing her. Her inner wounds healed and light shone through herskin, her veins pure white. All of the darkness vanished, the paintoo and she found herself lying on her back, gazing up at the sky.Her eyelids were heavy and as she shut them to the world she wasreleased from the weight she hadn't realized was there.Theangel of death had come to claim her, the crystal too much to bear.
