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Showing posts with label Blogfest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blogfest. Show all posts

02 February 2012

Snowfest Blogfest!



I am participating in the Snowfest Blogfest over at Roh Morgan's blog.  It's a chance to write something inspired by snow!  Go over there and check out what people are writing!  Here's mine.

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When she opened her eyes, blackness filled her vision. She threw her hands to her face, searching for something that might be blocking her eyes. She found her icy skin and nothing else. She patted down her face in disbelief; she could not see. 
 
Alice felt all around her, a wet, fluffy substance engulfed her legs. She could tell she was laying down on her back in snow. She didn't know where she was, but she did know that it was cold – the “freeze to death” type of cold.

This sudden realization threw her into a panic – was she alone? How did she get here? If she couldn't see, how would she get to safety? Hysteria set in as she tried to stand up, but something was holding her to the ground at her ankles. She reached along her legs down to her feet, where she felt metal shackles. She jerked her legs away from the bindings, but was only met with unforgiving hardware. 
 
Alice tried to scream, but all that came out was a raspy squeak. She tried again, but her throat was too dry. She heard a crunching noise to her right. It sounded like someone walking on tree branches. Alice wanted to ask who was there, but her voice was still silent. 
 
“Well, hello Alice. So nice that you're finally awake.” His voice was dark and heavy; it slithered through the air. He caressed her raven hair, leaning over to smell the aroma of her milky skin. Alice squirmed under his touch, scooting a few inches; not far enough to escape his intrusion.

“I've been waiting for hours. It's not very nice of you to keep me waiting – I don't like to wait. You'll be rightly punished, but not just yet.” He paused, gently touching her throat. “It is a shame I had to choke you so hard, I enjoy a bit of good conversation.” Alice couldn't see, but she could almost hear his wicked smile.

She tried to remember how she got here, but she only had flashes of a memory. Books in her hands, the softness of the gloves, car tires squealing across the ice. Though her mind tried, it remained a fractured puzzle.

“Ah, yes, you don't remember a thing. I can see by the confusion on your face. Which brings me to why you can't see. I had to make sure you couldn't see me or where we were going. Sorry about that, my dear. It must have been painful, having that sprayed in your face. You had such enticing eyes. Little emerald beauties. But so are the spoils of my profession. You could regain your sight, but you won't be alive long enough for that to happen.”

Alice attempted another scream, but still, nothing came out. A low chuckle filled the air, his laughter made Alice shiver. He crouched beside her and she felt his breath on her ear. “You will die; I will kill you.” His whispered threat floated through Alice's ears, tickling her fear into full blown terror. She thrashed around, grabbing the air while her hands were still free. She wanted to choke the smile off of his face, but instead felt her nails dig into skin.

“Enough of that!” he growled. Grabbing her hands with one rapid movement, he lashed her wrists together with a zip tie. “You seem to be anxious to get this over with. I have to admit, I'm a little excited too.” She heard the scrape of a blade against a rock. 
 
She howled inside, knowing her fate was becoming a reality. Alice felt him undo her coat, the zipper letting out her soul. He threw the coat off to her side, leaving only her thin blouse between her and the snow. The knife slid up the front of her shirt, slicing it in two. The piercing cold air circled around her body, her smooth skin giving way to goosebumps. Her nipples raised, peeking through her bra. He purred with pleasure. He cut the threads connected in the middle, and she felt the icy touch of his hands on her. 
 
“So delicate.” He scraped the edge of the knife across her chest. “So soft.” Alice sat very still, afraid that any movement might take her closer to the end. “I can smell your warmth.” He placed his fingertips on her neck. “I can feel your heart beating. Alive.” 

He brushed his lips across her cheek. He whispered again, “Are you ready, Alice?” He readied the tip of the knife on her chest. 
 
The last thing Alice felt was his lips on hers as the knife plunged through her heart. 

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26 June 2011

Blogfest...Interrupted!

Today is the day for the "Blogfest...Interrupted" blogfest!  It's being hosted by Sash over at Sash's Secrets.

It's her first blogfest, so share the love!!  Go check out the other entries and put yours up too!

It's 500-1000 word entry where your characters are interrupted in whatever they are doing!  Sounds like fun, eh?  Get to writing, it's today only!


Here's mine below, hope you enjoy it.  I've used part of it before somewhere else, just can't remember where. 
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      Dragan’s onyx gaze fell on her throat. Her slender white neck gleamed in the moonlight. She was a few rows over, kneeling down beside a headstone crafted into a somber angel figure. Why she was in a cemetery alone and at night was a mystery to him, but he did not truly care why; she was a meal to him, and nothing more. Yet she was overwhelming his keen senses. He could smell her aroma from his perch atop a crumbling, mossy headstone. She smelled sweetly of vanilla and lavender. Her warmth filled his nostrils, sending him into a frenzy. His hands shook with anticipation. But he knew he must control himself, he mustn’t scare her away. Not yet. He needed her blood inside him.
       Dragan eased off the tombstone, quietly making his way towards the woman he now considered already dead. His quickness landed him directly behind her; his silence left him standing close and undetected. At this distance her sugary scent devastated him; he could taste her now. He shifted momentarily, his boot heel crushing a twig under its weight. She turned swiftly, catching a glimpse of a tall shadow of a man.
      “Hello my dear. I am Dragan of the nightwalkers. I am here to ease your pain.” He smoothed a dark strand of hair away from her face, revealing the sadness in her eyes.
      “Ease my pain? No one can easy my pain. Not anymore.” She lightly ran a finger over the name on the headstone: Marcus Brennan. At that simple gesture she began crying all over again, tears mixing with the fresh rain. Dragan reached down and lifted her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her slim figure easily. She lost all composure then, sobbing into his shirt. He had her now.
      “What’s your name, child?” He angled her chin upwards to see into her eyes.
      “Elaina. My name is Elaina Brennan.”
      “Well Elaina, prepare yourself for death.” Shocked, Elaina tried to pull away, pushing with all her strength against him. Effortlessly Dragan threaded his fingers through her hair and jerked her head back, revealing her soft, porcelain throat. A scream escaped her mouth, as his mouth lowered to her neck.
      Suddenly a brightness filled his vision, a heat emanated from somewhere behind him. “I think you'll have to deal with being hungry for one more minute, Dragan.” Dragan turned slightly, squinting at the fire swirling around Sterling's hands, he would not let go of Elaina. Sterling stood there, feet planted firmly, hands ablaze with supernatural sparks of garnet flame, ready to char him to coals at any sudden movement. He contemplated finishing his meal, gazed into Elaina's eyes, and decided he too would live another day. “Someone is on your side today, my child.” He let her go. She shot out of his arms, headed in any direction that was away from him.
      “Good choice, Dragan. Now, slowly turn around...” Dragan followed her directions. He however, did not stop there. He grinned darkly, eyes piercing Sterling's one last time. In one swift movement he crouched down, throwing all of his weight into his legs, and shot straight up into the night. “Maybe next time, Sterling, it'll be your life I'll have the pleasure of interrupting.” He laughed deep and quiet as he flew through the sky.




  


19 June 2011

The Muse-ic Writing Blogfest!

Over at Aleatoire there is a blogfest going on that was actually yesterday, but as I didn't find it until today, I will post now, hopefully not missing it by too much.  Sorry!!


You were supposed to pick a song and write something that was inspired by it.  Whatever it may be.  I struggled with mine, I just tried to write without thinking too much about it - just let the song take me away.  So here goes:




Kary drug her feet down the dusty road, her feet blistered and bleeding from the many miles she had walked. All she carried with her was her father's ring, a journal from her mother, and the clothes on her back. The sun seared her already burned skin. Her mind was heavy with dark thoughts of all she'd lost, of all she'd never get back. The only hope she had left in her empty heart was for someone to take her out of her misery. If she knew how, she'd do it herself. Everyone she loved was dead. The world was dead. She was dead.

Being dead wasn't new to Kary. This was her second time around. When she sold her soul to the Big Guy, the deal was simple. Do his bidding until he let her go, or her family would die. Whenever that would be. Now her family was dead; she had a little less motivation to help the tyrant that was Mr. S. Kary stopped, looked at the sky, and screamed through the dust clouds.

“YOU'RE MINE, S! IT'S OVER!” She unclenched her fists and fell to her knees, tears cascading to the ground. Her hands burned on the molten asphalt, but she left them there; she needed to feel the pain. She looked at her father's ring on her left middle finger; a silver band with a cross cutout in the center. She'd left that cross in plenty of people's faces with her sharp left hook. “For you Daddy.” She reached for her mother's journal she had stashed in her back pocket. Such a small, tattered thing, most would hardly think it was beautiful. But Kary knew every word on the old brown pages, every curve of the letters written from her mother's delicate hands. “For you, Mom.”

With all she held precious in her life right there in her hands, she vowed to do anything to stop Mr. S. from doing this to someone else. He didn't deserve to be the King of the Underworld. Not if Kary had anything to say about it.


The song/music video that inspired this short blurb is "New Low" by Middle Class Rut.

Hope you enjoy it!  It's a really great song, IMO.








 

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