The Strange Inheritance – Finale – A Multiple Word Prompt Story for Halloween.

This is my final part of the horror story I have been resposting that I wrote a couple of years ago.

I hope you enjoy this last instalment of my Halloween story. 🙂

This story contains the following word prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/10/31/bloodcurdling/

FOWC with Fandango — Weight

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/10/31/your-daily-word-prompt-wicked-october-31-2018/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/10/31/rdp-wednesday-costume/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/10/30/monster/

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/10/31/daily-writing-challenge-31/

Halloween, ghosts, goblins.

James held Jennifer’s weight in his arms as she continued to cry into his shoulder.

“How did you know? Did you find her body in the cellar?” Jennifer’s’ voice was muffled and it barely sounded like her at all.

“I found something in the Cellar. It wasn’t her body. Something is going on in the cellar, there are books down there and scientific equipment” James hesitated before continuing “There are also jars containing body parts. I recognised Aunt Elizabeth’s eyes.”

Jennifer pulled back and stared into her brothers face. Her eyes were open as wide as they would go, he could see the whites all around her pale grey irises. She looked deathly pale too. He smiled at her, to try to reassure her and patted her hand.

“How did you know she was dead, Jenn?” 

“She came over to me as I was reading and spoke to me. I thought it was her, but then she changed into a girl and ran through that bookshelf. She was a ghost, James. I hate this place, there are ghosts here. I want to leave. Can’t we go now, before its too late? It’s Halloween and I don’t want to stay here after nightfall.”

“You know full well we can’t leave. We would forfeit Uncle Joshua’s money and everything we’ve done will be in vain.” James smiled again.

A thought passed through Jennifer’s mind. If the Aunt Elizabeth that came to her just now had been a ghost and there was a jar in the cellar that already contained her eyes, then maybe the Aunt Elizabeth they had heard screaming in Old Uncle Joshua’s bedroom had been the real one. Maybe the one they saw afterwards in her bedroom, that had been a ghost, or something else in disguise. She looked back at her brother who was grinning at her. James was sullen and morose, it wasn’t like him to smile like that. His eyes too were intense, bluer than she remembered.

Quickly she jumped up and ran to the door.

“Jenn? What’s up?”

She turned and shouted.

“Are you really James? Or are you some trick? I can’t stand this any more.”

James stopped walking towards her and suddenly the same thought occurred to him, nothing is quite what it seemed in this place.

“How do I know it’s really you for that matter? Look, Jenn, we’ve got to trust each other, or we’ve had it. Remember in the orphanage, I gave you my teddy bear when the warden said we couldn’t sleep in the same dormitory. What was it called, do you remember?”

The memory came flooding back, the loneliness of the orphanage. She used to cry herself to sleep every night missing her mother and father and James kept sneaking into the girls’ dorm to comfort her. When they caught him there they would beat him, but he still came. Then he gave her his teddy bear. What was it called again? That’s right, it was called Mr Micawber.

“Mr Micawber, I remember”

They both relaxed then. The feeling that they were not on their own gave them some comfort.

They sat down on a leather sofa and looked through the window at the grim light. It was still hours from sunset but it was one of those days where the grey clouds kept it from becoming true daylight. The view down to the lake would have been pretty on a sunny day, but today it only gave a modicum of comfort.

James had picked up the journal from where Jennifer had dropped it on the floor.

“So, what’s this you’ve been reading, Jenn?” 

“It’s horrible James. It’s Old Josiah Van De Gaard’s journal. He was wicked, a monster. He murdered his own child. I think he was dabbling in devil worship too.”

James opened the book and skim read it. He was always a quick reader, he had a much faster brain. “Yes, It looks like you’re right, he was into something really dark. He was looking to make himself immortal! Jenn, you know what?”

“No, James, What?”

“I think he succeeded. I think he’s here in this house somewhere.”

“Don’t James, I’m scared enough already. Where could he be, we’ve searched everywhere in the house and you’ve searched the cellar.”

“We haven’t been inside the master bedroom, it’s been kept locked. He’s got to be in there.”

“That’s enough James. I can’t take any more of this. I don’t want to find out any more about this horrible house. Let’s just leave. While we still can.”

“No Jenn, I promise I won’t go looking any more. We’ll stay together from now on, but we’ve got to stay the night. We’ll inherit a fortune. We’ll get Aunt Elizabeth’s share now too.”

“How can you be so callous, James. She was our Aunt.”

“She was a hateful, selfish old woman. You don’t remember like I do. She deserved what she got. It’s just the two of us now, but I’ll look after you, I promise. Haven’t I always?”

From then on, they stayed together, stuck firmly with the glue of absolute terror. In the kitchen, Jennifer heated up the dinner that Mrs Ponsomby had left them and they ate it sat at the table as they watched the meagre daylight slowly diminish. They had turned on all the lights of the house already, every single lamp. They had also brought the torch down from upstairs so they would not be caught out by any sudden power cuts.

The additional light didn’t seem to help that much. The noises started even before sunset. The voices whispered at them, called to them.

They could hear footsteps overhead. Scampering steps like little goblins running up and down the stairs. Jennifer heard the same cackling laughter that Aunt Elizabeth had made before she’d transformed into a ghost child.

“You should have gone, while you had the chance. Too late. Too late now. You’re mine now.”

This was no whisper but the loud deep voice of a man, it came from the floor above.

Then they heard a bloodcurdling scream and all the lights went out.

Quickly, James pulled the torch out from his pocket and the kitchen illuminated. Jennifer started lighting the candles they’d placed around the room, then held his hand in a vice-like grip.

The door to the cellar flew open and the same voice came calling.

“Come to me now. It is time, at last. The final step. Your blood is mine.”

Jennifer ran screaming towards the front door but James grabbed her and held her tightly. He was smiling at her again. A twisted smile. His eyes seemed to glow. Then he began walking toward the cellar door, pulling her along. She struggled and screamed but he was too strong. He was always stronger.

“That’s it, come to me. You can’t resist the call of the blood.”

He dragged her down the steps into the dank cellar. A red light came from somewhere further in.

“Yes, bring her to me. I must have blood to be fully released.”

Then she was the creature standing in the main chamber of the cellar. It wasn’t human, or at least, it wasn’t anymore. Horns sprouted from out of the bald cranium, the sunken eyes in that old mans face glowed red. The gnarled old hands ended in claws and the grinning mouth contained a multitude of pointed fangs.

Jennifer tried desperately to pull out of her brothers grasp but his grip would not lessen. He stood staring blankly at the demonic presence that their great-grandfather had become.

An almighty crash sounded coming somewhere above them. The fiend looked up and shouted. “Noooooo!”

Down the cellar steps, figures emerged each wearing a costume of red satin robes with black masks. They were chanting in Latin.

“Dies irae, dies illa solvet saeculum in favilla teste David cum Sybilla. Tuba, mirum pargens sonum per sepulchra regionum coget omnes ante thronum. Quod sum miser tunc dicturus, quem patronum rogaturus cum vix iustus sit securus”

As they chanted the demonic monster roared and grew larger, exploding from its prison within the body of that old man. Remnants of flesh remained at the monster’s feet as it expanded to fill the space to the vaulted ceiling.

A figure wearing white robes and a black cap ran forward and threw white powder over the floor and over James and Jennifer too.

The other figures formed a circle around the creature and continued chanting, getting louder, filling the space with their voices.

James shook himself free of his enchantment and looked around him, he remembered nothing since the lights went out in the kitchen above. The smell of sulphur and decay filled his nostrils. The sight of the huge demon made him fall back. It was then he realised he was still holding Jennifer’s hand. She was staring at him like he was a monster.

What’s going on? Who are you?” James shouted at the man in white.

“We are the Order of the Black Rose. We are here to finish off this Demon for once and for all.”

One of the red-robed figures cried out “Quickly Doctor, we can’t hold it much longer. He is too powerful. He is breaking free.”

The figure in white pulled a long-bladed knife from his robes.

“It has to be this way. I’m sorry. Our former leader, Joshua Van De Gaard discovered the secret before he died. He spent his whole life keeping the demon that his father had become contained, but he couldn’t break the original pact. As long as there is Van De Gaard blood running through someone’s veins, Josiah Van De Gaard, or the demon he has become, cannot die. Only with the death of every Van De Gaard can we finish off this monster.”

The man pulled Jennifer up from the floor where she had fainted and grasped her hair in one hand exposing her neck. He lifted up his blade ready to strike.

“No, Wait!” James shouted and grabbed the mans wrist, holding the knife “She isn’t a Van De Gaard. She’s not my sister. My Sister died of a fever before I was sent to the orphanage. I couldn’t bear the thought that I had failed her. I wanted to protect her, but I failed. At the orphanage I met this girl, she looked so much like Jennifer that I decided I would protect her instead. I called her Jennifer and eventually, she forgot who she really was. I am the last Van De Gaard.”

James wrestled the knife from the Doctors hand. He held it firmly and then plunged it into his own chest.

The Demon screamed, it’s head fell back and a white light emerged from its gaping maw.

The chanting grew louder and the Doctor began chanting different words that echoed around the chamber with great power.

The Demon exploded and all went black.

**********************************************************************************

Jennifer awoke from a terrible nightmare. She was laying in a strange bed with a feather pillow under her head and a hideous pink candlewick bedspread over her.

She didn’t recognise the room. It wasn’t her flat, that was for sure. It was a small room, with a tiny window through which sunlight was streaming. There was a writing desk in one corner and on the wall opposite was a large crucifix.

The door opened and a lady came in carrying a tray. She recognised the woman and a name came into her head which she spoke out loud.

“Mrs Ponsomby?”

The woman came over and placed the tray on her lap then put a hand to her forehead before replying.

“That’s right dear, quite a turn I had finding you unconscious on the kitchen floor. Dr Forbes has been in to see you. He said you would be right as rain. I’ve brought you some chicken soup, that should help build your strength up. I knew you’d catch a chill, sleeping in that draughty old house by yourself. Well, all that’s done and dusted now. There’s a solicitor chap downstairs who wants to see you, but I said he’d have to wait until you’ve had something to eat first. I expect he’ll want to talk about your inheritance. I’ll send him up in a little while.”

“Thank you, Mrs Ponsomby,” Jennifer said weakly.

She smiled and left the room.

As Jennifer lay there, she felt a cold sensation come over her. Then on the desk, the pen began moving on its own. She heard the scratch-scratch sound as the fountain pen passed over a scrap of paper. Then the pen dropped to the floor and she felt the coldness leave.

Pushing back the tray, Jennifer jumped out of the bed and picked up the paper. Scrawled on it were only a few words.

“I protected you the only way I could. Love, James.”

THE END.

Copyright@ Kristian Fogarty 31st October 2018

The Strange Inheritance – Part Six – A Multiple Word Prompt Story

This is a continuation of a story I was writing some time ago. See here for the last instalment.

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2018/09/24/the-strange-inheritance-part-five-a-multiple-word-prompt-story/

This story was inspired by the following word prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/10/22/vivid/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/30/quintessence/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/30/rdp-sunday-secrete/

FOWC with Fandango — Radical

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/09/30/your-daily-word-prompt-talisman-september-30th-2018/

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/09/30/three-things-challenge-30-sept-2018/

Today’s things are: farewell, retirement, pasture

James returned to the Kitchen to find that Mrs Ponsomby had breakfast well underway. 

The smells of the sausages and bacon sizzling in the pan made his stomach rumble. It was one of his favourite aromas.

Jennifer was helping Mrs Ponsomby by beating the eggs with a little milk. 

“Go and Wash your hands, James, you’re all covered in grime and cobwebs from that cellar” Jennifer chided automatically falling back into her role as the bossy younger sister. Since growing up in the orphanage, they’d always been close but the last couple of years they had led separate lives. He worked in the City as a bank clerk and Jennifer was a teaching assistant at a Primary school in the suburbs. They both had their separate little dingy flats and led separate lives, meeting up occasionally. It was funny how being back together they had reverted. He was once again the protective older brother.

Obediently he went upstairs and cleaned himself up, then returned to the dining room and set the table. 

Continue reading The Strange Inheritance – Part Six – A Multiple Word Prompt Story

50 Word Thursday #31- The Results

Well, another week has just flown by! The 50 Word Thursday challenge has come to an end. Click on the link to see the post:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2019/08/01/50-word-thursday-challenge-31/

The Rules:

  • Find the muse within the photo or line provided and follow where it leads. It can be a story, anecdote, poem. Anything!
  • The Story must be between 50 and 250 words, in 50 word increments. (so 50, 100, 150, 200 or 250 words)
  • Link back to this post with the tag 50WordThurs so that everyone can find it, or post your response in the comments below.
  • HAVE FUN!

Here was the picture:

DSC07310.JPG

and here are the words:

“If you dare nothing, then when the day is over, nothing is all you will have gained.”
― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book

It has been another great week for entries, I’d encourage you to read all the short stories that are linked below, some are truly surreal and others quite enigmatic 😉

 

the cursed of the white house

https://brazycitch1981.wordpress.com/2019/08/01/a-last-request/

THE CEMETERY

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/08/01/progress-halted/

https://padresramblings.wordpress.com/2019/08/01/down-town/

The Project

https://jengoldie493473930.wordpress.com/2019/08/01/i-dont-think-so-for-50-word-thursday-31-graveyard-tales-of-the-mind-of-christian-aug-1-2019/

50 Words Thursday # 31 – The graveyard of grave stones

Living to Die – 50 Word Thursday (Challenge)

https://debbiewhittam.wordpress.com/2019/08/05/50-word-thursday-31/

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2019/08/07/50-word-thursday-the-hidden-gem/

 

What a fantastic compendia of short stories.

I have been alternating hosting this challenge with Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith, but due to the disgusting harvesting of our work without asking for permission by TYGPRESS, Teresa announced she was quitting WordPress. I am so sorry to see her go because she is a fantastic blogger and writer and has been very supportive of a good many people. I hope she has changed her mind and will continue to blog and co-host this challenge. Never fear, one way or another there will be another 50 Word Thursday prompt posted tomorrow at some point, and it does appear that TYGPRESS has been deactivated too.

 

I have also included the following word prompts:

FOWC with Fandango — Surreal

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/08/07/rdp-wednesday-fear/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/08/07/your-daily-word-prompt-enigmatic-august-7-2019/

 

 

The Mystery Blogger Award Nomination

Mystery

I am cock-a-hoop and over the moon to have been nominated for this award by my great blogging pal and current collaborator, Beckie of Beckie’s Mental Mess.

Check out her post here:

The Mystery Blogger Award

Also, we have recently collaborated on two poems,

  1. In Search of Happiness:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2019/07/21/in-search-of-happiness-a-collaborative-poem-by-beckie-of-beckies-mental-mess-and-kristian-of-tales-from-the-mind-of-kristian/

and

2. The Creation (about the Creative writing process)

A Collaboration By Beckie of “Beckie’s Mental Mess” and Kristian of “Tales From The Mind of Kristian” ~ The Creation ~ The Final Piece

 

Now, what’s the Mystery Blogger Award?

“It’s an award for amazing bloggers with ingenious posts. Their blog not only captivates; it inspires and motivates. They are one of the best out there, and they deserve every recognition they get. This award is also for bloggers who find fun and inspiration in blogging, and they do it with so much love and passion.”

OKOTO ENIGMA

Rules:

  1. Put the award logo/image on your blog
  2. List the rules
  3. Thank whoever nominated you and provide a link to their blog
  4. Mention the creator of the award and provide a link as well
  5. Answer the 5 questions you were asked
  6. Tell your readers 3 things about yourself
  7. You have to nominate 10 – 20 people
  8. Notify your nominees by commenting on their blog
  9. Ask your nominees any 5 questions of your choice; with one weird or funny question
  10. Share a link to your best post(s). (I’ve linked to the two posts I have worked with Beckie on above, and I’m really proud of the results)

 

Three Things About Me:

  1. I work for the National Health Service as a Data Analyst and I have never worked with so many truly dedicated people before (no insult intended to any previous work colleagues).
  2. I love writing and I’ll keep doing it, regardless of whether the results are any good or not.
  3. I have been blogging now since March 2018 and while I don’t have as much time to blog since starting my new job, I am still loving the process and I have nearly 1000 followers, which I am really excited about! Thank you to all of the people who have decided to follow me, and to all my regular readers, you keep me going (and kept me going last year when I was going through some dark times).

My Five Questions from Beckie:

  1. If you were to have one wish come true, what would it be? Hmm, It would probably be to get some kind of major recognition of my writing, a publishing contract for my stories or poems, that would be really lovely.
  2. What is the least favourite thing about yourself that you wish you could change? – My constant anxiety, I wish I stopped worrying about things and just lived!
  3. What was the last funniest thing to happen to you? – I’ve probably told this story before, but I once nearly got arrested for dancing in a car park. I had been to visit my cousin who teaches Latin and Ballroom dancing, and she’d taught me a few steps, then I went to visit my Aunt for tea, and she’d just popped out, so while I was waiting, I decided to practice my dance steps. It was broad daylight and I wasn’t drunk or anything. It seemed to make perfect sense to me. Anyway, my Aunt returned and we had a nice cup of tea. meanwhile a police car, lights blazing, pulled into the car park, blocked my car in and began searching the area. Apparently, a neighbour had seen me and reported that there was a lunatic in the area! I remain at large 😉 
  4. What was your favourite subject in school? –  I enjoyed Geology and History. A lot depended on the teacher. If I got on well with them, then I enjoyed learning, if not, then it was torture. 
  5. Weird/Strange Question… If you could have dinner with anybody (Dead or Alive) who would that be, and what would you like to ask them? – There are so many people. I’d love to have dinner with our Current Queen because she is such an interesting and intelligent person, I’d love to find out what she really thinks about things. I’d also love to chat with lots of dearly departed. Film stars, like Margaret Lockwood, Margaret Rutherford and Greer Garson (and if you’ve heard of them, I’m impressed!). 

 

My Questions for my nominees:

  1. Did you have any childhood goals and have you achieved them?
  2. What is something you have always wanted to do but never have?
  3. What is something you are proud of?
  4. What is your favourite film/movie?
  5. Because I loved Beckie’s question so much, I’m going to copy hers. Weird/Strange Question… If you could have dinner with anybody (Dead or Alive) who would that be, and what would you like to ask them?

 

So this is the bit I find so hard because there are so many bloggers I admire, Beckie’s already nominated a lot of them, also there are a lot of great bloggers who do not accept awards, and I worry that if I nominate them, they’ll get annoyed at me. This fills me with a great deal of anxiety. I am going to pick some lovely bloggers who have been very supportive of me, and hope they will forgive me if they do not do these things.

 

https://thesunshineartist.com/2019/07/31/fan-fiction-a-witchs-coming-of-age/

https://paeansunpluggedblog.wordpress.com/2019/08/01/bittersweet/

Poblano Strips with Cream – Rajas con Crema

Someone, anyone?

https://sparksfromacombustiblemind.com/2019/07/31/screaming-aloud/

https://lifelessonsaroundthedinnertable.wordpress.com/2019/07/31/wordless-wednesday-33-wine-sunsets/

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/08/01/a-spark-of-creativity-1/

Opinions

https://stoneronarollercoaster.wordpress.com/2019/07/27/cleaning-makes-me-rich/

https://thinkingclearly2018.wordpress.com/2019/07/31/it-starts-with-an-a/

https://apausefornature.wordpress.com/2019/07/16/flower-of-the-day-35/

https://stubaby777.wordpress.com/2019/07/31/my-post-picks-for-july-2019/

 

This is the tip of the iceberg of those wonderful bloggers who deserve this award.

There is absolutely no obligation to do this, I know they are time-consuming, but just a bit THANK YOU from me.

 

 

50 Word Thursday – Wet Knees

Image by janrye from Pixabay

 

He sat on the bench and meditated

His life was rather complicated

It sometimes felt he wasn’t understood,

The world seemed to say to him

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

And now he felt the tides of life

Rising up through pain and strife,

He sat and prayed to gain relief

somehow it failed to ease his grief,

The heavens opened, the rain fell hard

A cascade of water, a hail bombard.

The waters rose around him high

Falling from the ashen sky

And there he sat, beneath the trees,

Languishing, lonely, with wet knees.

 

This poem was belatedly written for the 50 Word Thusday Challenge, this week hosted by Teresa, the Haunted Word smith:

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/07/24/50-word-thursday-30/

The Island Getaway ~ FTS 2019 #14

I have been tagged by Sadje of Keep it Alive blog, in this Finish the Story Challenge,

Click here to read her post:

Finish The Story #14- 2019

Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith began this story:

As soon as Liam read the advertisement, he knew the place was for him. Three-story newly renovated home on a private island in the middle of Hidden Hollow Lake. Owner motivated to sell.

“I will have it!” He scanned the ad for a contact number and phoned it immediately. To his surprise, the agent said the house was his as soon as she answered the phone. “What do you mean the house is mine? I haven’t even made an offer yet.”

She laughed. “Mr Owens, I have been instructed to sell the home to the first person who called, and today is your lucky day. I can meet you on the pier in an hour with your keys.”

“Oh… okay… yeah! Today really is my lucky day, isn’t it?”

Liam rushed around his tiny apartment, threw a few items into a backpack, and caught the train to the pier. Halfway expecting this to be a scam, he was gobsmacked when a professional-looking woman approached him, smiling.

“Mr Owens, I presume?”

“Um, yeah, that’s me.”

“Good. Sign here, please, and I can release your keys to you.”

His hand shook with anticipation as he scratched his name on the form.

“And here are your keys. That man will take you to the island,” she said, pointing to a man in a small rowboat. “Thank you for your business.”

He watched as she walked toward the parking lot and disappeared into the crowd. “How’d she know my name?”

“You ready?” the boatman called.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He climbed into the rowboat and took in the beautiful scenery before him, forgetting all about the sales agent. “This is really pretty, isn’t it?”

The man didn’t respond.

“Ok.” Liam sat in silence until the island came into view. It looked exactly as it had in the advertisement. He rubbed his eyes and pinched himself, convinced it was a dream.

“Get out here,” the boatman said, sternly as they reached the shore.

“Well, thanks, I guess.” Liam stepped out into knee-deep water and shivered as it soaked his pants. “How do I get back?” he asked as the boatman pushed away from the shore.

“There’s a flare in the house should you need it,” he called back, shaking his head.

Liam turned around and saw …

Li at Tao Talk’s part2 :

Finish the Story 2019 #14 — The Island Getaway

… a school of sharks swimming straight towards him! As a marine biologist, Liam knew it was unheard of for sharks to swim in a freshwater lake, even though he also knew a small canal connected Hidden Hollow Lake to the Atlantic at certain times of the year. Snapping his focus back to survival, his next thought was to run the 50 yards of knee-deep water before they nabbed him.

As Liam ran 10k every morning, it was no problem outpacing his sea-hunters – or so he thought. Even as his fleet feet touched dry sand he felt snapping jaws latch onto the sole of his shoe. Turning around, he saw a 2-foot tiger struggling to get a better grip on the rubber. Liam was blessed to see a piece of driftwood at hand. He grabbed it and beat the small shark on the head until it let loose and flip-flopped and rolled back into the water.

Unfortunately, in his desperate run for his life, Liam had let go of his backpack. Even now he could see it bobbing farther away from shore. He thought of risking it and going back out, but he could see shark fins circling the pack. His wallet, phone, snacks, a few books, and a couple of changes of clothing were in there. His pockets were empty except for his trusty Swiss Army knife.

The boatman had said something about a flare if he needed it. What kind of place was this?

Liam took a deep breath and looked around. The house of his dreams was another 50 yards. As he got nearer, he saw that the curtains to the windows were open, as was the front door. Curiosity getting the better of him, he ran the final yards. Stepping onto the porch, he heard voices talking inside. Imagine his surprise when….

Paula at Light Motifs’ part:

https://lightmotifs.wordpress.com/2019/07/24/the-island-getaway-fts-2019-14/

….he found a bunch of people sprawled over sofas with laptops, iPads, and papers they periodically wadded up in disgust and flung in the corner.

“My agent was right!” moaned one woman. “This is all crap! Every word. I should have become a veterinarian instead.”

Oh no. Liam shrank back in horror. It was too awful to consider. Noooo!

A man stood up. “My poetry is top shelf. If these idiots can’t see that it’s because they’re sheep who want Hallmark card pap. But after I’m dead for another hundred years, well, then they’ll wish they’d appreciated me more.”

Liam’s heart raced with renewed terror. He’d been duped into buying the Ghost Writers’ Grievance Hotel! He’d have to take his chances with the sharks.

“Hey!” The ghost poet pointed at Liam. “Aren’t you that famous publisher’s kid?”

“Me?” Liam’s voice cracked.

The ghostwriters started to float over to the doorway.

“It is him!”

“I saw his photo in the news with Mark Manson.”

“That blogger guy? That’s not real writing.”

“Yes, it is. My friend made thousands on her mommy blog and it was very funny too. Then they turned it into a book!”

“Ridiculous! I’m talking about timeless classics.”

Liam desperately searched for a way to escape these lunatics. But they were all around him now, yapping and jabbering. It was his worst fear.

And then one of them…

Here’s Di’s Part:

https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2019/07/25/the-island-getaway-fts-2019-14/

…… put a ghostly arm around his shoulders and began to merge himself with his body.
‘Get out of me!‘ Liam shouted pulling at his clothes. ‘How dare you invade my personal space without so much as a by your leave!’
‘Sorry,’ the entity smirked. ‘Just wanted to touch base with the living and get some new ideas.’
‘Well sod off! My ideas are mine and I’ll do with them as I wish to thank you very much!’
With that, he turned on his heel and stalked outside to the echoes of their laughter.

Sprawled on the sand he watched the sharks nibbling at his backpack offshore.
No chance of retrieving that then. He was thirsty and hungry, but to eat he had to face them again.
What on earth was he going to do? Could he welch on the deal? After all, no money had actually changed hands, but the place was perfect for inspiration and he had been toying with the idea of writing a novel.
‘Touch base with the living’
‘New ideas’
sifted through his head and a plan began to form…………….

Here is Sadje’s addition:

………Liam picked himself up from the beach and assuming a nonchalant attitude walked back to the house. As he entered it he heard mock clapping from a few of the ghosts. Ignoring them he came to center of the living room and said loudly.  “I am offering a deal to anyone who is brave enough to take it” there was a hush in the room. Then the poet who had tried to co-occupy his body asked him what was it that he was offering. Liam cleared his throat for theatrical effect and said,  “I am offering a collaboration. If you can give me new ideas for my book I will acknowledge your contributions in the book. That way you will achieve the fame you wanted in life, posthumously!”

The room was filled with babbling voices of all the writers and poets. They were excited and intrigued. Liam congratulated himself on his clever idea and went towards the kitchen to get something to eat, leaving them arguing the merits of a collaboration.

As he made himself some coffee and a big sandwich, Liam sensed a presence behind him. The poet and a few other ghosts were there and one of them spoke up “We are happy to take your deal. But we have a condition ……….

Now my addition:

A chill ran down his spine as he felt one of the ghostly forms touch his shoulder.

“What is your condition?” he asked trepidatiously.

The poet grinned, flashing a gap-toothed smile.

“You have to stay here with us on this Island, forever.”

Liam had somehow suspected their request and was willing to go along with it if it will help him realise his dream to become a successful published author. He had no plan to actually keep his word, however. His agile mind went over the idea, what he would gain by it.

“OK, I agree,” Liam said.

The crowd of ghosts cheered so loudly, Liam had to raise his voice to be heard over their din.

“Right, now you need to help me prepare a plotline.”

He had to admit that these literary ghosts had a talent that he could only dream of. The story they collaborated on, was one of the most original, exciting and insightful tales he had ever heard.

However, he had one major problem now……

 

Right then, who shall I tag?

How about Fandango? Fancy having a go?

FOWC with Fandango — Touch

 

 

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/07/26/rdp-friday-prepare/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/07/26/agile/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/07/26/your-daily-word-prompt-raise-july-26-2019/

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finish the Story — The Future Is Down Part The Fourth

Teresa, over at The Haunted Wordsmith first tagged Fandango to carry on her latest Finish the Storyprompt. Teresa starts it out, then tags another blogger, in this case Fandango, to add the next part. I will tag someone else to continue the story and so on and so on.

Fandango at This, That, and The Other has tagged Li at Tao Talk to write the next chapter in this Finish the Story Tale:  The Future is Down.

Then Li tagged me!

Finish the Story — The Future Is Down

Here is Teresa’s Part 1 of “The Future Is Down”:

For fifty generations, the people of Haven have lived in the sky. Floating without a care in the world in balloons and ships passed down from father to son and mother to daughter. Everything a person would ever need in their balloons was provided to them. The sky lord saw to that. The people were happy and the sky lord was happy. But, even in a perfect life, there is born in every generation one person who is not content. Ivan was this generation’s adventurer.

When other kids passed their day playing cards or making up stories with their family, Ivan stared below his balloon and wondered. He wondered what was below the clouds. Was it a world filled with giant monsters that could gobble him in a single bite? Or, was it a world filled with tiny fairies that fluttered around towering trees just waiting for him to come play?

The more he looked, the more he wondered. And the more he wondered, the more he dreamed. Dreamed of leaving the sky.

And that is exactly what he did on his thirteenth birthday after receiving his very own balloon.

“Goodbye,” he shouted, waving as he slowly deflated his balloon. “I love you all, but have to find out. I’ll write when I can!”

As his balloon inched its way down toward the unknown, Ivan’s heart raced with excitement. “I wonder what I’ll see first.”

Ivan didn’t have long to wait, for as soon as he was in a cloud bank, he saw…

And here is Fandango’s part 2:

…a huge, noisy, metallic, cylindrical tube zoom right by him, causing his balloon to start shaking and shimmering in the strange object’s wake. “Oh sky lord,” he screamed, as he tried desperately to regain control of his balloon. “What the Haven was that?”

“That was an airplane,” a voice said. Ivan turned to see that a strange looking animal of some sort had landed on the rim of his balloon’s basket. It was covered in colorful feathers and it had long, feather-covered arms that flapped up and down in a rhythmic motion. It had small, beady eyes and a pointy, hard looking mouth. And when it spoke to Ivan, it was in more of a squawk than a voice.

“What in the sky lord’s name are you?” Ivan asked the creature. “And what was that thing you call an airplane that almost knocked my balloon out of the sky?”

“I’ve heard of beings like you who live in balloons far above the clouds,” squawked the feathered creature, “but I thought it was just an ancient myth.”

“I’m as real as you are, whatever it is that you are,” Ivan said.

“I am Hawkeye,” the creature said, “and I am what the surface beings call a bird.”

“The surface beings?” Ivan said. “Tell me more, Hawkeye.”

Here is Li’s part 3:


Hawkeye started scouring the balloon’s basket, then gurgled, “First, I gotta know, what is it that you sky people eat anyway? You don’t have access to the ground to grow things in, and I know you don’t eat air!”

Ivan had no idea what “ground” was. “We have baskets that collect cloud water and our food grows in them. Is ‘ground’ a kind of container?”

“Oh boy, you got a lot to learn, Ivan. I’ll be happy to show you, but right now I’m ravenous. Got any of that food with you?”

Ivan walked over to a covered area and pulled back the woven mat. There was a large woven, water-tight basket filled with water – and living things. Hawkeye saw various-colored fish, several kinds of swimming insects, as well as seaweed in the water and watercress on top. “Right here. What are you hungry for, Hawkeye?”

Hawkeye spied a school of large green minnows. Lifting one leg, he pointed at them. Ivan grabbed his net and one in smooth motion netted a minnow. “Here ya go!”

As Ivan was an expert minnow-catcher, Hawkeye was an expert minnow-eater, so the minnow was airborne for a heartbeat then straight down into the multi-colored raven’s gullet with nary a swallow. “And I thought I was going to be teaching you things!,” squawked Hawkeye, then hiccuped.

As all of this was transpiring between air boy and earth raven, the balloon was descending further towards land. Thankfully it was early morning and so air traffic was light. Clear of the clouds now, a panorama of the unfamiliar was laid out before Ivan. Every new thing he saw he pointed at and asked for an explanation. Hawkeye, who had a limited attention span, soon grew weary of answering the questions.

“Ivan, my good buddy, I think it is time to show you what ‘ground’ is. I don’t know how well you can steer this thing, but can you take it over there?” Hawkeye pointed one of his toes towards a vast park-like area with plenty of open space and plenty of trees along the edge of it.

“Then what?”

“Then you land!”

“What’s land?”

“It’s where the ground is. Just go there and as we get closer and I’ll tell you what to do.”

 

And here is my Part Four:

As the green space came closer, Ivan was surprised that unlike clouds that became fainter the nearer you got, this stuff appeared more solid. In the distance was a large pale blue splodge on the landscape.”

“What’s that over in the distance?” Ivan asked.

“Oh, that’s Lake Superior. That’s wet stuff. Don’t land there, land on the green stuff instead.”

As they descended Hawkeye shouted “Prepare yourself,” but Ivan was anything but prepared as his balloon basket crashed into something green that sprayed brown stuff into the air.

“Now THAT’s the ground,” said Hawkeye.

“Is it always so hard?” asked Ivan.

“usually, although sometimes you hit wet stuff and sometimes the wet stuff seeps into the ground and that makes it soggy and squishy. They call that Marsh or swamp. Stick to the hard stuff, there are a lot fewer alligators ” Hawkeye explained helpfully.

“So now what?” asked Ivan.

“Well, let’s go for a hike, you can walk on the ground and I’ll fly.”

As they walked on the ground, Ivan was just amazed at seeing the trees towering above him and the sold feel of this ground beneath his feet. He was so in awe that he failed to see someone sitting under a tree and staring up at the sky. Ivan fell over this sky gazers legs and discovered again just how hard the ground was.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Are you OK?” said the person with the long legs.

Ivan picked himself up and dusted himself down.

“No, it was all my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I was staring at the trees.”

“Really? I was staring up at the clouds aren’t they amazing? They always make me think of Wordsworth. ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud that floats o’er vale and hill'”

“That’s very poetic I’m sure, though hardly original, and I know for a fact that clouds are never lonely,” Ivan responded.

Then Hawkeye came swooping over “Oh, I see you’ve met one of them ‘humans’, then. I wouldn’t linger talking to one of them. They’re not very nice, you know?”

………….. End of Part Four……….

 

So who shall I pass the baton on to?

How about Rory of the blog A Guy Called Bloke, he always shakes things up a bit!

Borrow the Lyrics Challenge

 

I have also included the following word prompts:

FOWC with Fandango — Poetic

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/07/12/original/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/07/12/rdp-friday-hike/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/07/12/your-daily-word-prompt-superior-july-12-2019/

 

 

 

 

50 Word Thursday #28 – Wild Inspiration

 

Image by Bellinon from Pixabay

 

As the solitary creature blinked at him from the semi-darkness at the bottom of the garden, he realised that it was alive and not a statue, an ornament or some strange gnome.

In the ephemeral, intransigent moonlight, the animal let out an eerie wail and then scampered away, disappearing behind the compost heap.

He wasn’t sure what type of animal it was but it looked feral and a bit wild.

This moment of tension, this garden encounter was enough to clear his writer’s block and inspire him to start writing a story. “Let the Wild rumpus start,” said Maurice Sendak.

[100 Words]

This story was inspired by the 50 Word Thursday Challenge, this week hosted by The Haunted Wordsmith, click on the link below to see her post:

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/07/10/50-word-thursday-28/

 

I have also incorporated the following word prompts:

 

FOWC with Fandango — Alive

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/07/11/ephemeral/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/07/11/rdp-thursday-solitude-solitary/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/07/11/your-daily-word-prompt-inspire-july-11-2019/

50 Word Thursday #25 – The Results

Well, another week has just flown by! The 50 Word Thursday challenge has come to an end. Click on the link to see the post:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2019/06/05/50-word-thursday-23/comment-page-1/#comment-12323

The rules were to write a story or poem based on the picture and containing certain words. It had to be in multiples of 50 words up to a maximum of 250 words.

Here is the picture:

DSC03229

And the Words:  “We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things; because the shadow always follows.” –  E.M Forster, A Room with a View. 

Now here are all the entries to this week’s challenge.  I wouldn’t hesitate to say they have all been executed with flair and panache.

Please let me know if I have not included your story, sometimes pingbacks do not work. Just link to your story in the comments below:

 

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/06/19/ask-permission-first/

50 Word Thursday — Hungry for Beans

https://eastelmhurstagogo.wordpress.com/2019/06/19/tampering-with-the-unknown/

THE MUSEUM

50 Word Thursday — The Totem

50 Words Thursday #25

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2019/06/26/50-word-thursday-the-importance-of-rules/

 

Take some time to read them and let the authors know what you think.

Now it’s over to Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith, to host this week’s 50 Word Thursday Challenge.

 

FOWC with Fandango — Hesitate

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/06/26/rdp-wednesday-flair/

50 Word Thursday – The Travelling Troupe

Image by cocoparisienne from Pixabay

“We never stop anywhere very long.” – DARREN SHAN, A LIVING NIGHTMARE

This challenge was written for the 50 Word Thursday challenge, this week hosted by Teresa, the Haunted Wordsmith, see the link below to her post:

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/05/29/50-word-thursday-22/

 

The Travelling Troupe

The travelling entertainers were packing up. Gathering their flags that only yesterday flew proudly in the summer breeze, collapsing the Punch and Judy stand that rolled into a bundle that fit in their tiny caravan. Violette sat on the wooden steps and stared out to sea.

Only yesterday the beach had been filled with people, laughing and playing. Children had sat and watched their show, not just the Punch and Judy, but their juggling, acrobatics and dancing. It was the same at every beach they had been to. They would perform and the crowds would laugh, applaud and throw coins. When the crowds departed, they combed the sand eagerly for every coin. They couldn’t afford to be spendthrift, their caravans hadn’t had a lick of paint in years, all the money went to keep the troupe fed.

In the early morning light, a little girl who was walking with her parents came running up to her.

“Where are you going? I saw your show yesterday, why are you leaving so soon?”

Violette smiled at her, then glanced at her parents standing apart and frowning.

That was the reason they were always prompt to move on.

“We never stop anywhere very long,” Violette said to the girl, “But we may be back again next summer.”

The girl ran back to her parents and they walked off.

Violette knew well the consequences of remaining too long in one place. The crowds that were entertained one day could quickly turn into a mob.

 

[250 Words]

 

I have also incorporated the following word prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/05/31/applaud/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/05/31/rdp-friday-prompt/

FOWC with Fandango — Spendthrift