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Friday Fictioneers: Slave Bones, Part 6

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Slaves Bones Series:/ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

This week has gone so slow in my opinion, it feels like so long since I’ve participated with friday fictioneers! Anyway, if you want to join the action click here. Otherwise, enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome.

 

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, Rordan yelped in surprise and jumped ten feet in the air before facing Enoch, one of the guards. Enoch’s red eyes shone like embers in the darkness of night, he was looking over Rordan’s head and beyond, into the inhospitable desert.

“Follow me,” Enoch whispered, pulling his gaze away from the desert and herding Rordan through the dying building. Rordan kept his mouth closed tightly, trying not to think about what Enoch might do to him and what he’d done to deserve this. He wanted to hide, to disappear, to climb a tree and be out of reach. Enoch led him to a back room which was filled to the roof with tumbling shelves, storing imperishable foods. He bustled round the room for some time before pushing a full rucksack into Rordan’s chest and leading him outside. “Ready kiddo?”

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Friday Fictioneer: Slave Bones, Part 5

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Slave Bones:/ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 /

This is a tricky one for me trying to fit it into the slave bones series. The link to the prompt is here. Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome.

 

 

 

Rordan glanced about anxiously, suppressing the urge to awaken the guards at the sight of an unknown figure in the distance which created no threat for the time being. He scanned the dark horizon once more, it was incredibly hard to penetrate the blackness of the night’s shadowy blanket, this time he couldn’t see the figure. Fatigue played tricks with your mind, it brought up premonitory images and cast hallucinations of the unwanted or most wanted.

A strange gurgling howl rippled through the night, the howl of a Gunkiar. Rordan was overcome by trembling, he whimpered for a guard but his voice had been snatched by fear. Suddenly two white eyes blinked in the near distance, like two polished shells laying side by side on a black sand beach. They were pupil-less eyes, sparkling like sunshine spangled water, they disappeared and the squishy shuffling of a Gunkiar’s movements followed.

Friday Fictioneers: Slave Bones, Part 4

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Slaves Bones: / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 /

Friday fictioneers again, it feels so long since I have contributed because I missed last week 😦 . Anyway, I saw the photo this week and couldn’t help recoiling in sudden disgust, why on Earth would you frighten us with such a picture Madison? Haha. This week I am continuing with the slave bones series, which I am actually writing as a draft novel at the moment. Now, onwards and upward, I hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome.

 

 

Night had nestled upon the desert, Rordan leaned against the crumbling brick of the building, peering out a gap into the endless darkness. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, pulling him into sleep which was so tantalising. He couldn’t be seduced by the beauty of sleep though, Gunkiar roamed the desert at night when the temperature dropped and the sun didn’t reign, and Rordan was on watch.

Rordan had been in the shackles of slavery for over a year, he’d encountered many of the desert dwellers but only twice had he felt the squirm of disgust from setting eyes on a Gunkiar. The wind moaned in his ears, it swirled up columns of sand, dyed black by the lack of light. Rordan’s eyelids drooped, sleep was slowly luring him in, he snapped them open and caught sight of a figure in the corner of his eye. His stomach clenched at the memory of the yellow pulsating creature which exuded frothy white poison and glistened with a sheen of sticky, sand speckled liquid, was it a Gunkiar?

Picture It & Write: Clicking Predators

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I missed Friday Fictioneer’s this week so am determined to complete a piece for Picture It & Write. The link for that is here. This week I have written something that could become part of my novel. It’s also a POV from another character in my Friday Fictioneer’s series. So enjoy and remember constructive criticism is welcome.

Eels of heat swam ahead on the shimmering horizon, causing mischief with her mind. Bodies of swirling, carmine dust danced upon the stage that was the desert. Teza brushed the grit from her eyes which peered out from behind her scarf, grey slits of steel scanning the devious horizon. The blazing sun was forever sprinkling an endless rain of heat onto her unclad skin which gleamed with a sheen of perspiration.

Behind her the city lay, the Fire Capitol as it had become known after King Lochlan’s death. Teza’s ‘death’ lay back there also, in attempt to escape her pursuers she had forged her death and run into a desert, it had been a plausible plan at the time. Now Teza doubted whether she’d last the first night, already the desert heat had wilted her spirit and her encounter with the city’s outskirt guards had left her slightly battered.

In the swirling haze of the distance she caught a glimpse of four figures. A blinding knife of light pierced her eye and when she looked back they were gone. Teza stopped in her tracks at a sudden clicking noise, she looked back and already the shifting red sands where coating her footprints, leaving no trace of her journey. Behind her she heard the ominous clicking of pincers and the horror stories of the desert’s cruelest predators came rushing back from her memory.

Friday Fictioneers: Slave Bones, Part 3

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Slave Bones:/ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 /

Another friday fiction prompt here again already, and now I’m thinking I shouldn’t have based the Slave Bones series in the desert. We’ll see what happens, the link to friday fictioneers is here. Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome.

 

 

 

Red sand seemed to stretch for light-years, carmine like the blazing eyes of an Ignis girl Rordan had met before he’d been thrust into the talons of slavery. He dazed out upon the barren land, his hands working automatically with a hammer to pummel the crumbling bricks.

 As he worked mechanically Rordan picked a random memory out of the many orbiting his brain. Images of lush green foliage strung to mind, rows of bursting vines with an abundance of succulent purple grapes just waiting to be picked. The memory of sweet fermenting grapes and crisp clean air was so strong Rordan could smell it there and then.

That summer had been unforgettable, when the tension between Ignis and Aluctions seemed to have settled and Rordan had felt free of malice. That was before the ‘Tear’ had happened.

Friday Fictioneers: Slave Bones, Part 2

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Slave Bones Series:/ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /

Another week and my stats seem to be dropping, oh well they will hopefully pick up soon as I introduce my new series for friday fictioneers; Slave Bones. The link to friday fiction prompt is here. Part 2 is below, hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome as always.

 

As the sun completed its final milestone of its day, so too did the slaves. The next camp lay crumbling before them, a stone shack that Rordan couldn’t help thinking, depicted his current life style. Not that his previous one had been any better, he’d lived in squalor beneath the city, trying to avoid the wrath of the Ignis people like many people did. All his life the Ignis people had been an incessant threat to him, since the reign of King Corinth had died, so too had the respect between Ignis and Aluction people.

A single skeleton of a black barked tree stood in solace before the building, a buzzard sentry stood guard on it. It screeched at the slaves as they passed, like it too shared a passionate hatred for them. Everyone and everything Rordan had met, treated him with enmity which always curdled his Aluction blood and rattled his slave bones.

Friday Fictioneers: Slave Bones, Part 1

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Slave Bones Series:/ Part 1 / Part 2 /

Friday again! The Sharp Ends series has finished with a not so sharp end, if you’d like to read it, click here. And if you want the link to the friday fictioneers prompt, that’s here. Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome.

 

Lasers of sunlight beamed down on the slaves, Rordan in particular was suffering the most. He was the youngest of the slaves by more than ten years, captured for a crime he couldn’t help. His blue eyes swam about languorously, following the shimmering horizon and imagining a large expanse of fresh water over the next rise.

 There was no rise though, no hills protruded from the land for miles around, it was flat and barren and inhospitable. The land was so flat and desolate that Rordan could see the curvature of the planet.

“Look at that ya filthy, walking sh**s!” One of the guards with the flaming red eyes of Ignis kingdom chortled, pointing to a distant shape. Rordan squinted into the distance, the sun was diving under the horizon and silhoutted before it was a derelict building.