Saturday, 30 November 2013

Purple Or Green Daily Picspiration

I wrote this for http://picspiration.blogspot . xx 

Erin stood alone on the bridge; usually a tourist attraction but at this early hour of the morning, it was deserted. She’d heard tales about the bridge and the odd decoration that hung from the thick cables and how people added their own padlock and made a wish. She took a few moments to wonder how successful those wishes had been, whether they came true, whether a happy ever after followed. But that depended on the wish. Maybe some wishes were dark, greedy, self obsessed, causing someone nothing but pain and not knowing why.

She wasn’t here to make any wishes, good or bad. Her job was harder, almost impossible as she stared at the length of cables which had a padlock hanging from every inch. How was she to choose?

Another walk back and forth, staring hard at each padlock wasn’t helping. Sitting on the bridge, her feet dangling, didn’t help.  Frustration was too simple a word for the predicament facing Erin. But time was running out. Above the buildings, the sky began to turn to beautiful colours of dawn; wisps of deep pink, oranges and reds spread across a once darkened sky but Erin didn’t notice the beauty.  

How quickly time slipped by yet Erin wasn’t ready to make the decision; her heart wasn’t in it. Such a difference it made to everything. Without her heart, she was a shell. How could a shell make such a decision without feeling?

She heard the ticking of a clock, louder and louder, confusing her. Maybe she should just walk away and live her life without her heart; after all it had caused her nothing by grief. It had been broken twice; the second time most recently when Guy had broke off their engagement as he wasn’t ready, only to be ready enough with his work colleague.  That’s when she wanted rid of her pain, the heartache and pleaded with someone, anyone to help her.

Staring at the padlocks, Erin regretted every single word. What was life without a heart? Choose correctly, she’d get it back in an instant, choose incorrectly and it was gone forever, leaving her empty, uncaring, unloved and unable to love.

The purple padlock caught her eye. It had to be the one; purple was her favourite colour. She slowly reached out, her fingers just a tip away from touching when she hesitated. Her eyes strayed to the tiny, green padlock below. There was something familiar about it but she’d never seen it before. She hadn't noticed much since her heart had been taken. But the green padlock drew her in and her hand reached out and without hesitation her finger tips gently touched the cold metal.

Erin didn’t know what to expect but she hoped she’d feel different, feel emotion for everything around her. But she was indifferent. The sky was a dull blue. The river was murky. She squeezed the padlock until it dug into her skin hoping to feel some sensation of her heart back in my body. It was unacceptable to have chosen the wrong one. But obviously she had.

It was a long, despondent walk off the bridge to the bus stop where Erin waited alone. Finally, the bus came into view, trundling along an empty road. It stopped and the doors flung open. Erin stepped on, handing over change in exchange for a ticket.

“You get done what you needed to do at the bridge?” the bus driver asked.  Erin gave him an absent minded glance, nodded and took the ticket. “You don’t recognise me do you? I brought you here.”

“Oh, sorry, thank you.” She smiled but it was a half smile which was her life now; everything by half because she was not whole. The bus driver smiled back and Erin felt a jolt inside her, she felt a thudding against her chest like something wanted to escape but only as far as him. Erin took more notice as she stared at him. He stared back with his soft green eyes, smiling back.“Oh my God!” Erin couldn’t help but exclaim, resting her hand on her chest and felt the rhythmic beat. She looked around her and for the first time noticed how beautiful the town was with its quaint buildings, flower pots in bloom and the sun glinting on the river. Erin looked to the bus driver again and her heart lurched. The green padlock! The green eyes! Green!

“You made the right choice then?” he said grinning, “I knew you would when I dropped you off. The name’s Pete.” He held out his hand and Erin took it and knew she was never letting go.   

Saturday, 9 November 2013

Daily Picspiration Piece Traitor

A little treat for those who are already familiar with my vampire, Luke and his companion Claudette. A little back story for you written for my Daily Picspiration entry as I continue with the story for this year's Nanowrimo. xxx    


Picking up a pencil, Claudette scraped it along the desktop, gouging a trail the length of the desk, again and again until the pencil snapped in half. She threw it to the floor, admiring her work on the antique desk. This was Luke’s sanctuary, a place where he contemplated, relaxed, plotted and studied. He allowed no one in unless invited. Invitations were rare. Once behind the large oak doors, Luke shut out the world he had created, the world where the metallic taste of blood hung thick in the air, where the constant groans from slaves murmured throughout the walls, their wails and screams echoing through his bones, where his family laughed, argued, fought and feasted. 

It wasn’t a lifestyle choice, being a vampire. He was taken. Murdered. Only to be given life by the vampire who stalked him, wore him down before brutally feeding from his pulsating neck. Life had been good. Luke, an original Knight of the Garter, knighted by The Black Prince himself, the age where chivalry was standard, where knights jousted and fought for honour, love and bravery. Luke loved his life. But Francois set his sights on him, desired him, and hungered for the pure blood that ran through his veins. But Luke didn’t give up easily which only endeared Francois more to his quarry, respecting Luke’s fortitude, his desire to live, his spirit to fight. 

Luke still carried these traits now, over eight hundred years later; the spirit of the fight, loving his prey to run, defend, fight to the last which was pointless against a vampire but addictive to his soul. Yes, vampires had souls. Luke’s soul was like any other soul belonging to a vampire; dark, mysterious, black and predatory. He savoured the hunt. He relished each victim on their own merit. But he had only ever taken one into his world; Claudette. 

He remembered the evening he first saw her, at the opening of the Louvre in 1793. He followed her in as she admired the limited works on display. He read her thoughts on every painting and sculpture, learnt much, hungered for her more. She chatted politely, curtsied when royalty approached. Her spirit captivated him and he spent the next three nights following her until he could bare it no more. Arm in arm they walked to a quiet spot by the Seine where he revealed his true self. She ran, screaming which only aroused Luke more causing his fangs to extend. 

Giving Claudette a head start he strolled along the river bank, her scent in his nostrils; the thick smell of fear, the metallic scent of her blood mingling with sweetness of her sweat. He caught her, mid flight, whisking her off her feet, burying his face in her neck, an insatiable thirst. But he couldn’t finish. He needed a companion since Francois had died. Wanted Claudette. She would forgive him in good time just like he had done with Francois. 

Claudette stared down at the desk, at her handy work. Luke would know it was her. Luke would now know what it was like to be betrayed. The etched W in the desk meant one thing to both of them; witch. Luke’s dalliances with the young witch had brought shame on the clan, his own clan. How could he hide the witch from them and keep her powers to himself? It was treachery. And Luke was about to find out how traitors were dealt with in the vampire world. No mercy would be given. it didn’t matter that he was their leader, the head of the family or the most powerful. It just made Claudette more determined for with Luke out of the way, she would have the witch to herself and become head of the family. With Kian by her side, they would be unstoppable. 

Friday, 1 November 2013

By Invitation Only MidweekBluesBuster


By Invitation Only

The half finished derelict Victorian mansion set in a small clearing amongst the forest was the perfect setting for the party. The trees creaked and groaned as stray branches tapped against the third story windows. The wind swirled dead leaves around visitors’ feet as the jack-o-lantern welcomed guests with a jagged grin. The door bell gave a ghostly moan before the heavy wooden door creaked open revealing a darkened hall with only a flickering of a candle dancing in the breeze.

Ahead of the guests, two large white doors were firmly closed and the silence was broken only by the clip clopping of their footsteps against the black and white tiles. Victor looked to his wife, Clarissa, “do I have anything stuck between my teeth?” he asked, running his tongue across his pearly whites and glistening fangs.

“Beautiful darling,” Clarissa purred, baring her own fangs for inspection. She flicked back her long, black hair revealing the silver streak, pulled her black dress down a little, showing a little more cleavage before the doors sprung open.

The music assaulted their eardrums as did the cheer from the crowd as Victor and Clarissa glided in. Manny was the first to greet them, offering an unravelling hand as he groaned a welcome.

“Dear Manny,” Clarissa said, air kissing him, “how lovely to see you looking so well wrapped.” She and Victor made sure they spoke to everyone before heading for the bar.

“Two Bloody Mary’s please,” Victor said, “type O.”

“It’s a fabulous turn out this year,” Clarissa observed, seeing every single creature represented at the annual Halloween bash. This year, even the zombies had made it after their popularity had risen due to The Walking Dead. Last year, they didn’t even get an invite; picking up after them was always a dampener on the night.

“Cheers,” Victor clunked his glass and sipped his drink, licking his lips. “This does give me a taste of the hunt Clarissa. I hunger for the old days when we could go about unnoticed and chase own our prey.” He sighed heavily, “and wearing this stupid black cloak. Why do we have to dress up for Halloween?”

“Stop being a grouch Victor. It’s fun. Besides, Manny wouldn't be seen without his wrap,” she laughed, “we wouldn't see him either.” She looked at Manny the Mummy as he waved back. “It’s the one night of the year where we can truly be ourselves and do what we were born to do.”    

A flurry of ghosts drifted across the room, before disappearing through the wall as the headless horseman took centre stage with his break dancing. Clarissa loved the party, loved they were altogether; loved the one night of the year they were all allowed and were able to walk amongst the humans, unnoticed.

But the climax of the evening was the sound of the moaning doorbell. With all the guess already arrived, it only meant one thing; the delivery of humans. Clarissa jumped with joy as the music stopped and everyone gathered eagerly. “Now we don’t want to scare them off just yet. We’ll have some fun before we share the spoils,” she sang as she walked to the door.

Adjusting her dress again, Clarissa opened the door. She smiled, not afraid to show her fangs; it was Halloween after all.

“Sorry to disturb your party but our coach driver is lost. Do you have a phone? Useless mobile; no signal out here,” the middle aged man said.  

“Why of course. You and your group should come in for a rest, some refreshment. We have plenty.”  The coach load of tourists traipsed into the house as Clarissa walked over to the driver.” Thank you,” she grinned.

“My pleasure,” the coach driver grinned, baring his own gleaming fangs that he’d kept well hidden whilst duping the tourists onto his coach. “I’ll just park up in the garage and join the party, Mother.”  


This week's Mid-week-blues-buster over at The Tsuruoka Files has given us a rather zany song which can be heard here