Thursday, January 10, 2013

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 53


Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked and a whole new year of #ThursThreads flash fiction. So let's get started. It's Thursday again, so what should you be doing? Writing #FlashFiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 53 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Need the rules? Read on!

Here's how it works:
  • The prompt is a line from the previous week's winning tale.
  • The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
Rules to the Game:
  • This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
  • Incorporate the prompt as written anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
  • Post your story in the comments section of this post
  • Include your word count (or be excluded from judging)
  • Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)
  • The challenge is open 7 AM to 7 PM Pacific Time
  • The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up. ;)
How it benefits you:
  • You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we're all about promotion - you know you are!)
  • You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
  • Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, and Google Plus

Our Judge for Week 53:


Bibliophile, chocoholic, and contemporary romance author, Alison Packard.


So now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:


“The first time I met her was in the woods.”

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck! :)

29 comments:

  1. The first time I met her was in the woods. She was beautiful, flashing between the trees filling the area with a wild energy that hit me like an arrow in the heart. Her voice rose above the wind and bounced off the trees, she thought she was alone.

    Her wings spread out full glittering in the early morning sun with the most beautiful colors I had ever seen in my life.

    I stayed back, watching, not wanting this sight to end. For so long I had searched, told I was crazy, the Fae were a myth, a legend told to children to keep them in line.

    I knew better and I always had but now I could prove it. I lifted my camera slowly, like a hunter sighting in on an unexpectant deer. Just like the deer she stopped, looking around, and our eyes met for one sec.

    That one second seemed like an eternity until I realized what I was doing. I quickly raised the camera and punched the button as she disappeared.

    I had hurried home to develop the film and when I was done I sat and smiled. The only thing I had caught was my own thumb and the edge of a green tinted foot barely distinguishable from the under growth.

    It was then that I realized that it was enough for me to know. I knew that there were indeed things we will never know about our world.

    That is what gives me hope.

    SE_ADAMS_
    250

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  2. "Has anyone seen her lately?" Ruari looked at each of his companions. It was damned cold. Summer in Scotland was as bad as winter in most places south. Except for the midges. The scourge of Scotland. Mad, bad and dangerous to know. A bit like her in fact if you weren't careful.
    "Nah, " Seamus shook his head. "Hardly ever see her to be honest." He slapped his arm and grimaced. "Missed it, bloody midges, Give me wasps every time, you can see the bastards coming and take evasive action."
    "Poor baby, " Mhairi sniggered. "I think she's left the country. Never to be seen again. How often do we see her? In fact where do we see her? Not here for sure." She turned in a slow circle with her hands outstretched. Her full skirt swirled around her, and her hair became a halo framing her face. To Ruari she looked like everything he needed.
    "It's strange but the first time I met her was in the woods," Seamus said. The first time here anyway. I was coming to meet you two, and took a short cut. Man it was pissing down as usual, but when I got into the trees the rain stopped. And…" he paused.
    The other two leaned forward. Ruari envied his cousin's ability to spin a good yarn.
    "And?"
    "And there she was. I walked through yon tiny glade and she was waiting for me, shining down on me, welcoming me to Scotland. The sun."

    250 words ravenmcallan@hotmail.co.uk

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  3. “The first time I met her was in the woods.” Jeb checked the sight on his rifle. Once satisfied, he loaded it carefully.

    “Yeah? What she promise you?” Sully watched his brother warily. The woman in the woods had a reputation for making promises and delivering – for a price. Jeb smiled coldly. Sully manoeuvred his wheelchair from behind his desk to face his brother at the gun safe. “Jeb? What the hell man? What she promise you?”

    “Nothing I wanted. Nothing she could give me.”

    Sully swore. “That ain’t an answer, man. You know damn well she ain’t no witch or shaman. She’s a demon!” He wheeled his chair behind Jeb to block his way. “What did you give your soul for? For me to walk again? For Mom and Dad to come back from the grave? What?”

    Jeb just smiled coldly again. He knelt down to look his brother in the eye. “She offered to bring back Lisa.”

    Sully sat stunned. Lisa was beyond gone. No one could bring her back. Jeb’s wife had sold her soul long ago to another demon in an effort to save her husband from the ravages of cancer.

    “I asked to think about it.” Jeb stood and dug in his pocket pulling out a pouch. “Talked to a few witches, holy people and shamans. Gonna take care of this problem once and for all. Sealing the portal tonight.”

    “And the demon?” Sully watched his brother stand. Jeb just smiled again.

    “I’m going hunting.”

    @theresabreaux
    250 words

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  4. The first time I met her was in the woods, her body battered beyond anything any human should endure. I remember the way her hair danced in the wind defiant like a flag, I knew from the first moment I saw her I would never have a good night's sleep again. She was so young, too young everything taken from her for what?

    Here again I sit with death, this time he makes a righteous call, Martin M. Harold now 45 years old his DNA found beneath the little angels fingernails. 15 years later 1 mistrial, 4 appeals, countless pleas for clemency and pardons denied. Today death calls Martin M Harold due and I am forced to watch but all I see is a little wisp of red hair fluttering in the wind and I pray to God no one thinks this tear is for him.

    146 words
    @antonioangelo21

    ReplyDelete
  5. Chained
    By Lisa McCourt Hollar

    “The first time that I met her was in the woods.”
    Jarrod kept his voice low, watching the woman on the beach. Her ankles were in chains and the tide was coming in.

    “So what’s the plan?” Thomas asked.

    “No plan. Night is coming and there’s a full moon.”

    Jarrod chuckled. “They’re in for a surprise.”

    The group taunted Ashley, throwing rocks at her. One hit her face, splitting her lip. It was Tanya. Ashley stared at her through bangs that covered her eyes and grinned.
    “I don’t blame you for hating me,” she said, her voice growing husky, “but your husband tried to rape me…”
    “Liar!” Tanya threw another rock. This one hit her in the stomach. “You killed him!”

    “And drank his blood,” Ashley growled, covering her stomach with her hands. “It nourished my child… as will yours.”

    “You are a monster!”

    “You have no idea.”

    “Did she just say, her child?” Jarrod shifted his weight, ready to run out and defend her, even though he knew she was capable and the sun had not yet gone down. He was safe in the shadows but even in the waning sun, he would burn.

    “Is it possible… it’s never been heard of before?”

    Thomas looked worried.

    The sun finally fell and the moon began it’s slow rise, but Ashley didn’t have to wait. With a roar that deafened those around her she shifted. Loosening the beast, Ashley fed, careful to save two for her vampire lover and his friend.

    Word Count: 250
    @jezri1

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  6. Marcus waited for the general’s reaction. He’d come with one simple goal; convince the man Elizabeth could be trusted.

    “It’s an ambitious plan, an ambitious plan that relies almost entirely on the ability of a woman. How do you know this woman? How do you know she’s not some rebel sympathizer bent on infiltration?”

    Marcus tossed back the last of his whiskey and laughed. “The first time I met her was in the woods. She nearly shot my head off trying to protect a secret plot of potatoes. I know where her heart and intentions lay.” He leaned across the table, “She’s the only one who can do this, I’d bet my life on it.”

    The general observed him with the quiet countenance of a man who had both reaped the benefit of some risks, and been burned by the faulty logic of others. His lips pursed slightly and he gave the faintest nod. Standing, he brushed a bit of invisible dust from the brim of his plumed hat. “As a gentleman I accept your bet. Use her as you will, but it’s your life if this fails.”

    “And if it doesn’t?” Marcus countered.

    The hint of smile turned up the corners of the general’s mouth. “Prove her worth, and then we’ll talk about a reward.” He patted Marcus on the back and tossed a couple of coins on the table before departing.

    Marcus poured himself another glass of whiskey and tried to hide his smile. She was in.

    249 words
    @RevolutionaryVJ

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  7. The first time I met her was in the woods.

    I fled to our cabin in Oregon to escape my wife’s ghost. Unwise, given how much of her lingered there in the hills, on the shelves, in every souvenir and book.

    It didn’t go well. I wrote nihilistic screeds and burned them in the fireplace. I woke up in the middle of the night with phantom beeps of medical machines in my ears. Drunk, I would wander into the woods with self-indulgent fantasies of drowning in some anonymous creek, of starving out my pain and nourishing the trees with my corpse.

    But I always came home. Life was not finished with me.

    On the fifth trip out, half-blind from drink, I found her. A ruddy trunk so thick that three of me could not have joined hands around her. Roots that clutched wet fecund soil, gathering graveyard leaves. Two branches stretched plaintive fists to heaven above a twisted face, mouth open in supplication to the rain.

    I put my hands on the knurled bark and felt the slow breath of a thousand years -- the waking shift of something older than humanity. I felt her voice curl like a serpent at the base of my skull. It was then I noticed the piles of animal corpses that gathered in communion. Dry, drained, withered.

    In a moment of understanding, my life regained purpose. She needed to feed. I had a new bride now, and I would do her work.


    248 words / @surlymuse

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  8. Wow, I'm a little amazed at the quality of writing here. And not just a little intimidated.

    Great stories, guys!
    _______________________

    _______________________

    “The first time I met her was in the woods.” Dylan gave the Officer across the table an exasperated look.

    “Can you specify the woods?” the Officer asked with a sour voice and a matching attitude.
    “South of the Boston River,” Dylan replied.

    “And why were you there?”
    “I already told you this. Why do we have to go through it again?”

    The Officer pointed toward the one-way mirror at the end. “Forgot to put in a tape the first time. We just need it to be official ‘is all.”

    Dylan sighed. “I was jogging, as I do every morning.”
    “And she was there, naked?”
    Dylan nodded. “I gave her my sweater, dialed 911 and waited with her.”

    The Officer consulted a small pad on the table. “The paramedics said she had no heartbeat once they got her in the ambulance.”

    “I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Dylan replied. “All I can tell you is what I saw.”
    “And you saw her emerge from within a tree.”

    “Yes. One moment there was a tree and the next she was stepping out from it.”
    “And she said her name was Gaia.”
    “That’s what she said.”

    “And today,” the Officer continued, “we have trees spurting up from concrete; a god damned jungle in the middle of the city and extinct birds nesting and laying eggs.”

    “Yes,” Dylan said. “It’s almost as a strange as a woman walking out of a solid tree, stating her name is Gaia.”


    246 words.
    @ChessnySilth

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  9. The Snare

    Now, as I prepare to burn, I hear her, see her; I am content.
    I am condemned. There is but one verdict.
    The hood prevents me from facing my accusers, but I know them, hear their petty vengeance.
    They seize me, bind me with iron, fearful even yet of my abilities.
    I slide to the ground, nose in the rotting mulch. I hear the vengeful mob approaching.
    Her cries echo across the valley, trumpeting her transcendent escape.
    With my last strength, I free her; watch her soar above the verdant canopy, free at last.
    I cast the perilous enchantment, fighting to control the energies I have raised.
    All is prepared.
    I gather my courage and summon my power.
    Dare I do this thing?
    I must act. This bondage of beauty is monstrous.
    I see her agony, encased in a faerie cage.
    She flickers and flashes, ever on the edge of sight, sparkling like spray from a waterfall caught in a sunbeam; eternal, ethereal, ensorcelled.
    My heart sings as I hear her voice; a resonance of souls.
    The first time I met her was in the woods

    186 words
    @nickjohns999

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  10. Poison Flowers

    “The evening was hot and muggy, like you were breathing and swimming the same air. She was a quiet girl, with a soft spoken voice, kind eyes and soft dirty hands. The first time I met her was in the woods just off the path, tending the wildflowers. I love to wander around the route after dinner, especially on those sultry summer’s evenings.”

    “Could you try to narrow your story to the facts, Mr. Thoreau?” The policeman asked, impatiently tapping his pen on the side of his clipboard.

    “I am an author, young man. You ask for a story and this is what you get. If you want cliff notes, you came to the wrong witness. As for now, this is what I have to say.”

    Thirty minutes passed as the young officer scribbled page after page, until his orator finally took a breath. “Did she ever lead on that her husband was buried under the flowers at the edge of the woods?”

    “My kind Sir, Helena was a gardener. She simply took something ugly from this world and made it into something beautiful. You should have left that man there for all to enjoy, but no. She did not tell me.”

    “Thank you for your statement. I just don’t know whether to file it or publish it.”

    “Do with it what you wish, Officer. Surely the statements gathered around Walden Pond will fit very well together. Just keep an extra pen in your pocket.”

    @acenance - 250 Words

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    Replies
    1. hahahaa! Love this! Clever.

      Delete
  11. The first time I met her was in the woods, the dryad’s woods. Aiden’s voice drifted through Quinn’s dreaming mind. She was more than I’d hoped and all I wanted. I couldn’t stay away, Quinn. She was meant to be mine.

    Quinn wanted to scream at his brother for being stupid, for thinking with his dick, for following an errant princess to his death. Aiden laughed, his eyes full of compassion. Don’t blame Maia, Quinn. She’s only trying to help. And she always encouraged Sorsia to be with me as much as possible. It’s not her fault I died. Forgive her…

    Quinn sat up, reaching for his brother as the dream faded. Dawn threatened at the edges of the sky, the first clear sky they’d seen in seven days. Gathering his wits, he spared a glance at his traveling companion, and thought over his brother’s dream words. Had it been a true dream? Had Maia supported her sister’s interest in his brother’s suit? She’d certainly been stronger than he figured one of the fabled Twelve Dancing Princesses could be.

    “Sleep well?” Maia added another stick to the fire. Quinn shook his head. She sighed. “I think the weather is clearing. Maybe we can make some headway and you can learn the art of conversation. Remind me never to travel with an assassin again.”

    Quinn gritted his teeth. He should forgive this woman? He’d rather stab himself with his own dagger.

    240 ineligible #WIP500 words
    @SiobhanMuir

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  12. Relationship Dynamics

    There are innumerable TV movies and entire sections of book stores dedicated to love at first sight and matches made in heaven. What Allyson and I share is neither of those things…not by a long shot.

    The first time I met her was in the woods. It was still dark outside but sunrise wasn’t far off. When you’re a starving photographer you take what gigs come along. Nature Week wanted to pay me to tramp about snapping shots of critters and I wanted to pay my rent….simple enough.

    She was just wrapping up a whirlwind night of unrestrained lycanthropy by consuming the still-quivering remains of some unfortunate jerk that’d dumped her for another woman. Yeah, talk about Hell hath no fury, eh? To this day, I think she’d have been of a mind to make me dessert if not for some really convenient timing.

    As the sun crested the low hills to the east, I had the foresight to begin snapping as fast as my Nikon would go and got some excellent action shots of her transition from lupine to human form. Since she was a tad distracted with her transformation, I had just enough time to pop out the memory card and load the contents to my home network.

    So how would you categorize a relationship based on “I don’t chew your face off” on her part and “I don’t make you the next tabloid freak” on my part? Well, let’s just say it’s…complicated…and leave it at that, eh?

    250 words @klingorengi

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    Replies
    1. this is hilarious.

      Delete
  13. The first time I met her was in the woods.

    She was crying, over pages torn from a book. The book was ornate, with a hammered gold cover and delicate, gilded pages. But her face, tear-streaked and smudged, drew my gaze. She was beautiful -- not glamorous, but ethereal. As if she belonged in these woods as much as I did.

    Redwoods towered over me, shutting out the city I despised. Standing within this shadowy oasis, I could almost forget who I was -- a Padgett, and by definition, an outcast.

    I crossed to her, watching her fingers dance over the pages in her hand. She didn’t just touch them, she caressed them.

    At the sound of my footfall, she looked up. “Are you OK?” I asked.

    She brushed away tears. “I will be.” When I hesitated, she added: “You don’t need my sad stories.”

    I looked down at the book that continued to hold part of her focus. “What is this book, then?”

    “Nothing.” She slipped the loose pages inside the cover, but not before I glimpsed the symbols she traced.

    “It’s a grimoire,” I said in surprise. When she did not answer, I continued. “Be careful. This town does not take kindly to witchcraft.”

    “Are you calling me a witch, Penn Padgett?” she asked, a smile spreading across her face.

    She knew my name. That was a kind of magic, too, and from that moment on I was enchanted.

    241 words @davinajamison2

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  14. The first time I met her was in the woods. My older brother had taken me to her house to play. She and I were very young, and it must have been one of my earliest memories. I recall her hair so fondly, brown and curly and laced with dandelions. In a single day she had become my best friend, my confidant, my love.

    We grew up together, sharing the same classes all through school, hanging out afterwards and on weekends, going to the movies and roller skating and everything best friends do.

    It wasn’t until high school that I realized I truly loved her. I didn’t know if she felt the same way toward me, but our relationship had never crossed into the realm of the physical. She was attractive, certainly, and I don’t know why I didn’t pursue her. I knew eventually some lucky guy would snatch her up.

    I can’t quite remember when my love of her became an obsession. I suppose that this should have been a warning sign, but I guess I’d repeatedly ignored other red flags. Days and weeks began to pass, and I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her.

    When I finally confronted her, confessed to her, the result was not good. We fought. We became violent. And I killed her. I murdered my one true love.

    My therapist tells me now that she was all in my head. A manifestation of my illness. So why do I feel so much remorse?

    250 words
    @rastrohman

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  15. Beauty

    The first time I met her was in the woods. Markings showed she’d been sold twice, though I didn’t recognize the brands. Skittish, she’d kept her distance. Most make noise when approached. She stayed silent, never took her eyes off me. One wrong move, and she’d bolt.

    I talked as I picked the mushrooms I’d come to find, told stories about my boyhood in these woods. I figured if she got used to my voice, maybe she’d come closer and, after a time, learn to trust me. Foolish, considering that she was either a runaway or had been turned loose for being unbreakable, but I always was optimistic. None so far gone as couldn’t be brought back.

    Took a few weeks of running across her “accidentally” before she stopped hiding. Leaving her be made her believe I intended no harm, which was Truth.

    When I caught her, it was gentle. I had no illusions she came willingly, but the fight was more statement than protest. I threw a blanket over her and tied her loosely, before leading her home. She balked when she saw the cabin, but I coaxed her along.

    “It’s okay now. This is home. I’ll be good to you, and you’ll be good to me, and that’s what matters.”

    She looked at me, long and steady, nostrils flaring.

    “If you brand me like the others, I’ll knife you in your sleep.”

    Seems there was work yet to be done, but I could live with her terms.

    ReplyDelete
  16. The first time I met her was in the woods, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Looking through my telescope, at the night sky, I saw a brilliant light streak land in blaze of glory in my woods. I ran into the woods and found Aislinn.
    Hair deepest purple and her eyes the colour of night, her lips ruby red beckoned to me just begging to be kissed. Kissing her became a drug and one thing led to another. Near dawn wrapped in her arms in a bed of moss, she bid me farewell saying I’ll see you tonight and disappearing in a ball of light. Night after night, I went back drawn as a moth to the flame.
    On the thirtieth night she said “Henry you’ve done what no other subject could do. You’ve given me a son. ”
    In a beam of light, we entered her spaceship and I found myself on Zelma. I have been renamed Akuma. I spend my days raising our boy Nestor. Nestor has spikes on his back and his long purple hair like Aislinn. She is a scientist and very busy. Here, he is considered handsome and I am the beast, but I am content. I stay beside the love of my life and we’re expecting a new child next month. So if you see a streak of light in the sky, go ahead and investigate you might be as lucky as me and find the love of your life.
    247 words
    @SweetSheil

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  17. TERMS

    The name Anastasia means “she who shall rise up again”. It always seemed appropriate to me, though admittedly unfortunate for her. The family name, Anselm, meant “divine protector”. But then, she was never anything like her father. Her substitute appellation, Heavenrent, was a much better fit.

    The first time I met her was in the woods. It was too easy and my blood still rushes joyfully at the memory. Fresh from her personal tragedy and having her eyes opened to the truth of hell for the first time she was desperate for salvation. I told her that the way to redemption lay through demon slaying, and presented myself as a master.

    Such a spoiled noble child should never have survived the rigorous training I put her through, but she always rose again. I re-forged the fragments of her father’s blade with a powerful enchantment to feed back the power of each demon she vanquished directly to me.

    Now I have all the power I need, and no further use for the child who believed blood could be her salvation. I suppose I should feel guilty about that.

    Poor girl.


    189 words
    @DavidALudwig

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  18. The first time I met her was in the woods.

    The creature hadn’t seen me standing behind the copse of trees as she’d sunned herself in the clearing. She bent her wings to catch the rays falling through the canopy overhead. Her skin shimmered in the trembling light, making it seem more alive. I felt the need to reach out to her, to lay my hand along her flesh and absorb the raw energy that seemed to cascade from her in waves.

    As I’d stepped from behind the tree for a closer look, she’d felt me there. Her twinkling gaze turned to wash over me and her wings began to flutter as she lifted from the ground. Yet her curiosity appeared to make her stay near, her inquisitive stare fixed on my face.
    I slowly drifted from the darkness, stepping into the sun’s beams, letting her grow accustomed to my countenance. After long moments, she began to drift down to the earth, growing infinitesimally closer. I caught a breath, afraid I would scare her off if I moved at all, the need to be in her presence too weighty to chance to the inadvertent movement of my chest.

    When she smiled, the universe opened for a second, letting me see a hint of the lifespark. I’d never expected to discover one of these creatures, let alone have it regard me as well. She was flawless, eternally beautiful, and I was entranced, ensorcelled by her aura.

    And then she kissed me.

    250 words
    @alexohurley

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  19. There are so many ways to meet people. There are so many myths and legends about this creature or that. You will no more think mine true than those myths and legends. But I swear it’s true, every word. Here is the story of a very old friend of mine.

    The first time I met her was in the woods. I was hiking. Fall in Iowa is so pretty and the temperature was perfect. I had my camera and took pictures while I walked. Then, I heard a voice.

    “Sir?”

    The air shimmered and then she was in front of me. She stood six feet tall, with short, spiky purple hair, a flowing purple dress, and the most amazing purple wings I’d ever seen. Her wing span had to be at least twelve feet as she lithely stepped toward me.

    “I am Glina.”

    “A-Alistair.”

    She fluttered her wings. “I am a fairy. You are intruding my home.”

    Swallowing, I pinched myself to see if this was a dream; it wasn’t. “I just want to take pictures. It’s so pretty here.”

    She nodded, tucking her wings behind her back. “It is. Enjoy it. But if you return, please do not disturb us. We prefer to remain in secret.”

    She left before I could agree.

    I kept coming back. And she was always there to meet me. She died today. I went to the woods, paid my respects, then left. The woods will never quite be the same.

    @Aightball
    246 words

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  20. I stood next to her. Facing her. I let my eyes trace every line. Every curve. I closed my eyes, and slowly inhaled. Her being there was a dream come true. A fantasy brought to life. She was grace, and elegance brought to life. I extended my hand, letting my fingertips lightly touch her, tracing her curves. I wanted to know every curve by heart. I walked around her, my fingers barely contacting her. She was a work of art. My pulse raced as I circled her. My senses drinking her in.
    She was heavenly.

    She was mine.

    The first time I met her was in the woods, the day I’d started looking for someone new. I’d driven all over town. Then all over the countryside. And found nothing. Everything was the same. Until I found that place in the woods. In the last place I’d have ever looked for it. And there she was. Resting next to an oak. Rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves and branches, highlighting her features.

    I fell in love in that moment.

    I had to have her.

    It took three months. Three months to work out the financial details. Three months of negotiating. Three months of planning. I did whatever I had to do to get her. To make her mine. And in the end, there she was. Sitting in my driveway. A black metal work of art, with a hand stitched leather interior.

    And she was all mine.

    249 words
    @LurchMunster

    ReplyDelete
  21. Twitter : @shylacolt
    Word count: 244
    “How does she know you?” Iwan asked.
    “The first time I met her was in the woods of her dreams. She remembers the Fae lands, transports herself to a part of the forest her people once thrived in.” My mind took me back to the moment with Fleur. Bathed in moonlight, her dress stood out against her milk chocolate skin as she whirled with wild abandon among the bright blue and fuchsia flowers that littered the landscape. I hadn’t expected to feel anything in her. But the light she possessed shone so bright it beckoned, begged me to join her , away from the darkness I’d been born and bred in.
    “Does she know who you are?”
    “Of course not, she doesn’t even remember she’s a Faerie. She’d think I was a lunatic if I told her I was the Prince of the Sidhe court.”
    “So why are you here?”
    To Sedue, Persuade, and Conquer. Mother had been quite clear with her orders.
    “To investigate, you know the prophecy as well as I do, the last child of light will vanquish the darkness that covers Fae lands. She’ll be eighteen soon, the involuntary glamour and bindings on her powers will end.”
    “I don’t believe you. I won’t let you corrupt her.” He turned on his heel and stormed off leaving me on my front porch.
    “May the best man brother.” For her sake I hope it’s me, because my failure would spell her death.

    ReplyDelete
  22. The front door of the apartment complex was slightly ajar to prevent the magnetic locks from kicking in. I knew the tenants, too lazy to swipe a card, preferred it this way. I climbed 48 steps to reach the fourth floor. I counted four doors down on the right to the apartment numbered 414. I knew she would be home because she was always home on Friday mornings.

    She didn’t know me but I knew her. The first time I met her was in the woods. It was a public park, actually, and I found her sitting on a bench reading in the afternoon sun. I never believed in angels until that moment. Since then I’ve seen her many times, but she’s never met me. I’ve waited a long time to make an introduction.

    The lock was a simple one and her door had no deadbolt. I was sorry to have to make my entrance in such a way, but I was afraid if I knocked she might not answer.
    When the door opened I found her lounging on the couch, still in her pajamas and enjoying a bowl of cereal for breakfast. I stood in the doorway for a moment, stricken by her natural beauty. She looked surprised, but then I knew she would. I shut the door behind me.

    “You don’t know me,” I said, “but the first time we met was in the woods.” I don’t know why, but she started screaming.

    Mike
    245

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    1. Hey Mike, could you leave an email or twitter handle so we can contact you if you win? Thanks. :)

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  23. “I’m telling you…the first time I met her was in the woods. Two. Nights. Ago.”

    The old man stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. It took all his willpower not to reach up and feel his neck to make sure there wasn’t a lookalike protrusion joining their tête-à-tête.

    “Why don’t I believe you?” The curmudgeon leaned forward with a cold, stone-faced glare.

    He arched a brow. “Don’t know. Can’t read minds. Sorry.”

    'Relentless.' Did the oldie know something he didn’t? Had he encountered the woman before? There’d been a short bout of amnesia he’d suffered through three years ago. Was it then? No. Someone would have told him he’d met the unforgettable lady. At least he hoped so.

    'Unforgettable. No. Too tame. Extraordinary. Yes. A much better choice.' He’d chanced upon the ethereal, regal beauty with the violet eyes and long raven hair during a late evening walk. Like a cool mist, she appeared out of the shadows into the warm night, a glowing being whose haunting gaze and sweet voice mesmerized him. They’d spoken for hours, made love in the moonlight. Something awakened in him then, but he wasn’t going to tell the geezer about it.

    “Not now, but you will,” the man stated. “When you do, she’ll come back, then I’ll kill you both.”

    “Excuse me?” His fear and shock pushed through.

    “Don’t you know who I am?” He produced a stake from beneath the table. “I’m a vampire hunter. Tag. You’re it.”

    248; contact@crmoss.net; twitter: @crmoss

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  24. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thank you to everyone who wrote today and I hope to see you next week. :)

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