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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 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.

Picture it & Write: Burning Kiss

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My piece for this weeks ‘Picture it & Write’, which is organised my Ermilia, the link to this week’s prompt is here. Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome.

 

 

Ted watched the wisps of smoke curl and ascend from the woman’s full lips lathered with scarlet lipstick. It flew away smoothly, white gaseous ballerina’s dancing into invisibility.

“Got ya eyes on Nancy do ya? She’s a demon that one, a beautiful one never the less but a demon through and through.” Johnny whispered loudly in his ear, his voice slurred and thick with intoxication. Ted’s eyes never strayed from Nancy, he was mesmerised by her ravishing appearance, he felt her knavish steam prickle his flesh.

“Your talking crap Johnny,” Ted replied, watching as Nancy flexed her long manicured nails which were painted scarlet like her lips, he watched as blood seemed to drip from her finger tips. With a gasp he recoiled, shaking his head, he’d seen a hallucination.

“No no mate, I’m serious, some say she paints her nails and lips with the blood of her victims.”

“Victims?” Ted asked, once again entranced as Nancy stood up, her deep red boots glittering in the candlelight of the saloon. She walked past them, her rose scented perfume knocking Ted’s sense’s clear out of the water, as she passed she stroked his arm and he felt a burning shiver crawl through his body.

“Yea, she puts people in a trance and does wicked things to them,”

“Whatever wicked things she does, I’m going to find out.” Ted smirked at Johnny and swaggered after Nancy, his tassels waving and cowboy boots clinking. He followed Nancy up to her room, and disappeared into her lair, the strong pungent of roses and blood attacked him and fiery touch burned his lips and spread through his body, muffling his screams.

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.