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Friday Fictioneer’s: Sharp Ends, Part 3

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Sharp Ends Series: /Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

Here is this weeks’s prompt from Madison Wood’s Friday fictioneers, found here. It is also the third part in my ‘Sharp Ends’ series, so enjoy.

 

 

 

Barbed wire bit at her wrists, it held her captive, teaching her a lesson for what she had done. Fear and guilt also held her prisoner, weighing her down like a concrete block.

He circled her like a cobra, waiting to strike with his verbal vemon. In his hand the knife glinted cruely, the moonlight made it wink nefariously. She imagined fur growing from his body as he transformed into a werewolf under the eyes of the full moon, but he didn’t.

In her hand she grasped a sharp-edged stone, sawing at her bindings, she felt a boost of confidence swell inside her as she held the weapon. Would the same confidence remain when she attacked though? Could she actually kill the man she really loved? 

A Second Chance- Part One

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/Part One/Part Two/

Time slowed, I could see the brass bullet hurtling towards me, it had pounced from the gun like a stalking lion, now it was coming in for the kill. It was too late for me to do anything, the bullet too fast, and me not fast enough. The bullet winked at me in the morning sunlight as it punctured my chest, a blossom of blood marked its success. I could imagine the bullet biting through my flesh, weaving through my ribs and making its home in my heart in a matter of seconds. Pain grasped my chest, twisting me around its finger as I wailed and sunk to the ground in agony. The grass engulfed me, it encased me in my coffin, all I saw before my internal injuries whisked me away to death was my the man who had shot me. His gray features had a tightened sadness in them, my last thought was of happiness, because the man would feel guilt for the rest of his life. What father wouldn’t after they’d murdered their son?

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I woke up, which perturbed me, because yesterday I died, I saw the bullet enter my chest, I felt the pain, I had felt a blanket of death drop on me, and I had seen my killers sadness and guilt. How is it possible I’m alive then? Grass no longer keeps me captive and the sun or moon is not looking down on me. In fact, there is nothing around me except an infinity amount of nothingness. A stain of blood on my chest, marks my death, I prod the bullet wound but it doesn’t hurt. What the hell is going on?

“Confused?” A femine voice coo’s behind me, I spin around and face the most beautiful woman ever, her soft, sky blue eyes radiant friendliness but that’s not what settles my trust for her. It’s like she had cast a spell on me, and I know she has, but I tell myself to trust her, that’s all that matters. “Stop gawking, this is not my only form.” She says with an edge of harshness, which is to be accepted, since I’m kind of perving.

“Myra have you told him yet?” An equally beautiful woman asks, appearing beside her, they are identical funnily enough.

“Told me what?” My voice asks, but my brain is distant and I feel like I’m watching the situation.

“You are dead, William, but we can help revive you.” Myra says.

“Why would you want to revive me, and how?” I ask, still feeling distant.

“To be honest, I don’t know why, Jonas never told us.” The other woman answers, she is not as friendly as Myra, and even though their identical, I can see she is not as beautiful. “To revive you, we must rewind time and put you back on Earth to create peace with your killers.”

I’m thoroughly befuddled, maybe this isn’t happening and I’m just drunk off my face, but I don’t have a wrenching headache, or a dry, bile taste in my mouth. So I listen to the two woman as they explain my task and tell me of different consequences.

“Time for my second chance at life then?” I conclude as the two brush up on some finer detail which I’m only half hearing.

“Yes, and it is exactly time now, the spell is at its peak and will only stay so for a minute, good luck William.” Myra says, before the two suddenly vanish like me when modern music plays. All of a sudden I have clear head and the bullet wound is gone, nothing is replaced by the pounding of bass music, the smell of alcohol, sweat and deodorant, and the feeling of people dancing around me. I’m in a dance club, suddenly I remember where I am, groan in annoyance and disappear out the back door because I know what song is coming on next.

Friday Fictioneer’s: Sharp Ends, Part 2

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Sharp Ends Series: /Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/Part 4/ Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

This week I decided not to name my characters, and I have also attempted a little romance, which I have never done before. Hope you enjoy, constructive criticism is welcome!

Sun seeped through the canopy as the forest began to fall away, ahead she saw the last threads of the forest cut by the farm’s fence line.

A man appeared from behind a tree, frightening her with his dazzling smile. She smiled herself, a glow of love flickering in the embers of her hazel eyes. The man drew close and cradled her in a warming hug, resting his chin on her head adoringly.

“Tell me the truth or you’ll go the same way they did.” He suddenly snarled, pulling out a knife and pointing it in the direction of the fence where a bundle of barbed wire hung. Her throat tightened sickeningly, as she remembered using the barbed wire on her victim.

“How did you find out?” She whispered.

Friday Fictioneer’s- Hide and Seek

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Madison Wood’s Friday Fictioneer’s Prompt

http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/2012/04/18/photo-prompt-for-the-friday-fictioneers-100-words-join-us-friday/

“We should be safe here,” Leggle croaked, gasping for breathe as she peered out from under the rock which was blanketed in thick, brown moss. Beads of moisture dripped from the ceiling of their hiding place, disappearing beneath the water leaving wakes of tiny ripples behind.

“I hope so, I don’t want to run into that thing again.” Spoticus too, was gasping for breathe after their near death experience. If frogs could shiver, then Spoticus did, as the memory of their escape and Fedi’s gruesome death, played in his mind like a film.

“What was it?” Leggle asked, her sunset yellow eyes darting about alertly, adreneline still pumping around her body like water down a hydroslide.

“I don’t know, but whatever it was, it killed Fedi and it’s after us now.”

 

Charlie Cheek The Secrets Pirate

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The seething mass of water climbed up the ships hull, only to fail and retreat, and try again. It tossed the ship about in waves shaped like hands, constantly throwing the ship back and forth like a ball. The ship scaled mountains of churning water, rocking and rolling precariously.

Captian Dinghy stood as the wheel, which was twice as big as him. He had to stand on a small platform in order to see past it, and even then he could only see what lay ahead if he stood on his tip-toes. Captain Dinghy was a very short man, with a very short temper, and a very short memory. Whenever a crew member stepped out of line the tiniest bit, Captain Dinghy cursed and shouted at the man.

“The next time you step out of line I’ll throw you in the sea!” Captain Dinghy would rage like a wild beast (of miniture proportions) at the man. Although Captain Dinghy had never sentenced a single man to walk the plank, and it was because of his very short memory, that this was so.

Men of Captain Dinghy’s crew, knew that the captain had a very short memory, and made significant use of it. One man in particular used the advantage greatly; Charles Cheek, a man of insolence, often used his time to beguile Captain Dinghy. Whenever Charles was caught, Captain Dinghy always said the same thing.

“The next time you step out of line I’ll throw you in the sea!”

Charles Cheek was never thrown in the sea though, and never would be. For one, Captain Dinghy was extraordinarily stupid, and two; the crew of Captain Dinghy’s ship showed immense admiration for Charles Cheek.

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Gathered round an empty barrel, five members of Captain Dinghy’s crew played an intense game of cards. Charles Cheek was one among them, studying the game with his usual smug expression, and a sense of composure. The four others were hunched over, noses barely touching their neighbours, with an atmosphere of determination that radiated off them like perspiration. Each man laid his last hand down, as each did so, gasps of defeat and victory echoed through the cabin. As Charles laid his final hand down the other groaned in failure and shoved their riches morosely at Charles.

“Good game boys!” Charles congratualed, his expression the same smug attitude. Suddenly Captain Dinghy burst into the cabin, his face fiery red with anger like a tomato.

“Who put itching powder in my bed!!!” Captain Dinghy roared, Charles sniggled, trying to maintain a straight face. “Well, who was it?!” The captain bellowed, causing the cards on the barrel-table to shake like leaves.

“Not I Cap’n.” Charles replied, although it had been him. He began loading his new riches into a old seed sack with his strange variety of coins, jewels and notes. The notes in Charles money sack contained secrets Charles had traded with many different folk, for Charles knew that secrets were sometimes worth more than gold. Many men gambled, traded and bought things with gold and silver coins, but not Charles Cheek. He knew what some secrets were worth. Secrets, riddles, curses and myths were Charles main currency, and secrecy was his business.

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Wood creaked as the wailing winds whorled outside, throwing themselves at everything like a pack of wolves at their prey. Charles was thankful he wasn’t on the ship out at sea, where the wind would turn the sea into a wrecking ball. Instead he was trapped by the wind in creepy, Madame Mudlum’s house.

Madame Mudlum, although a bit deranged, was Charles’s best customer for getting secrets from. She was sly and scary, and people thought she was a witch, for she certainly acted like one. Madame Mudlum spent her time concocting potions, studying myths and spying on people.

Whenever Captain Dinghy docked in the town of Mawellum, Charles always made sure to visit the market, the pub and Madame Mudlum, because they were the best places to get secrets. This time, Madame Mudlum had a very special secret apparently, one that Charles would find “inwardly irrefutable” as Madame Mudlum had hissed into Charles ear.

Charles waited for Madame Mudlum to return, after telling him that she had a very special secret, she went down to her cellar to get it. Although she was taking an eminently long time, Charles resisted the strange urge to leave. So he stood up, and went in search for her, even though she had specifically told him to stay.

“Madame Mudlum? Are you alright? Madame Mudlum?” Charles called as he opened the cellar door cautiously and tip-toed lightly, down the cold, groaning stair. At the bottom, the strong scent of rum curled up Charles nostrils like tendrils, and he disputed the force to steal some.

The cellar was bitterly frigid, the cold gnawing at him like lice, as Charles crept deeper into the cellar, a ghastly smell of death caused Charles to choke. Soon the smell was overwhelming, just as he was about to retreat upstairs his foot brushed something soft, which felt like hair.

Charles reached into his pocket and retrieved the candle and matches he always kept handy. As the flame flickered into life, the petrified face of Madame Mudlum appeared by his foot. The thing that had felt like hair, was hair, Madame Mudlum’s hair. Charles bent down, fear and remorse forming bile in his mouth, as he discovered that Madame Mudlum was dead. In her deathly stiff hand was a piece of parchment with the secret scribbled on it, Charles read it and gasped in disbelief………..

A Life Of Memories

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He was thrown out of sleep, the rush of reality hit him hard in the face. Sweat drenched every inch of his body, but he felt cold, cold and numb inside. He had been in a fight with his duvet again, because it was twisted and tangled around him like knotted hair. His duvet wasn’t the only thing he was fighting with, he constantly wrestled with the memories that haunted his every waking moment of life.

Pictures and films of his memories passed through his brain, unforgiving, relentless, and reluctant to be let go. Like newborn babies, they clinged to him, and followed him everywhere. All he wanted was to forget, he would give everything up just to live without the haunting images.

Paintings of blood, films of war, songs of terror echoed in his brain. The smell of death lingered in his nostrils, an odious after taste of the war he’d fought in. He feared his memories, but every thought was comprised of them, the dread of thinking about it, hunted him, his memories were his life.

 

Escaping The Battle

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Escaping The Battle

It loomed above her, like a star, it seemed unreachable, but it was her goal to reach it, no matter how much she had to struggle to get it. Below her the bloodcurling screams and thunderous crashes of the battle raged on. Beneath her feet was a battle field, a slaughterhouse, an abattoir of terror. From the petrifying sounds below, she was given fuel to carry on. One at a time. One at a time. She repeated over and over in her head a million times as she climbed the rungs to the only exit left. She was fleeing the battle, the others would think of her as a deserter, an absconder, nothing but a coward. Unlike them, she had something to go back to though. Little did they know, but what she was doing the most courageous thing she could do.One at a time. One at time.She repeated, staring at the rungs like a hawk, her eyes were having to adjust to the light above, so she knew she was close. In her haste, one of her feet slipped,and in that terrifying moment her heart was in her mouth and she could feel in beating. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Thumping wildly like rabid animal inside her trying to escape. Regaining her grip on the rungs, she continued upwards. She began to wonder what foreign things were above her, and how her comrades were going down below. Someone would already have been redeployed in her position by now, they were quick like that. At last the light seemed close enough to see what was beyond the darkness below. As she neared the light, she realised an oversight she had made. The outside world was cut off by four metal bars closing the gap that would take her away from the hell she had been in. She gulped her dismay, unsure what to do. Should she go back to the battle? There was nothing else to do, expect to let go of the rungs and fall……

Sphrbn