Unwanted Visitors


The wind whistles through the broken window. Shadows move as if ghosts through the room. Old dusty floorboards creak as the old building shifts. A pair of children cower in the corner behind the cot they share. Father leans against the wall next to the open doorway, readying himself. Whispers can be heard, floorboards are pushed to their limit as weighty spectres move across the room. Father prepares himself, he will protect them. He will do what he must.

This was the world now.

They keep moving, searching for something. One moves down the hall, toward the children’s room. Father says a silent prayer, hefts the heavy weapon in his hands. He glances at the kids, they’re scared eyes looking for reassurance in his. The moonlight shows a long shadow on the floor, moving closer. It stops to check another room. The building breathes again replaced by an unsettling silence. The shadow moves closer still. The children holding each other’s mouths to keep from making a sound.

The figure reaches the threshold, pausing. It’s back is turned. Father leans closer, feet spread, his muscles tense, sweat drips from his forehead. The figure moves, it turns and takes a step into the room. Realization sweeps across the stranger’s face, children are here. Suddenly a mighty crack erupts throughout the house and the figure slumps heavily to the floor. Father hefts the weapon again, peering around the doorway. The ghosts whisper loudly, arguing.

Father moves out of the room, motioning to the children to stay and hide. He creeps as quietly as he can, his boots making only the slightest sound. The whispers grow louder. They are in the kitchen he realizes. He reaches the doorway, listening intently. He can only make out two voices. The door’s hinges lay bearen, the task of holding the door long forgotten. He moves his head slowly until  he can see into the shadowy room. The figures are animatedly arguing, blackened silhouettes against the moonlight. He tries to size them up, telling himself to stay come and be deliberate. This is no time for half measures.

He turns the corner letting out a mighty bellow. The figures jump in terror. Father picks up an old chair sitting next to the doorway, throwing it with one hand as hard as he can at the larger figure. Then charges the second raising his sledge above his head. He brings it down, but misses the head and the blow lands on the shoulder, emitting a sickening crack. The figure crumples holding it’s shoulder. Father turns, the other recovering from the chair. It is over in a second, Father jabs the face and brings the butt of the sledge down and across the head, the figure crashes to the floor unconscious.

The second figure, still holding it’s shoulder brings up a hand, asking for mercy. Father spits on the plea, asking “Why do you deserve to live?” He hefts the heavy sledge preparing himself once more. The figure pleas “I’m like you, I just want to protect my family.” He looks more closely, realizing the figure is shapely, feminine. He pulls the face up to see her eyes. Tears run down her cheeks, reflected brightly in the moonlight.

“I’m pregnant” she whispers. “Please don’t kill me.”

Our Life: Part 6


Gone, Where I Cannot Follow

 

A four letter word, can I say it?

It haunts me,

She is always on my mind.

Her

Without I feel empty

Reduced to a phantom,

She gives me heart

A soul, meaning.

I want to tell her with every fibre of me.

Life left to never return

Never again will she hear

The four letter word.

Our Life: Part 5


The Next Step

 

I open the door, already a smile on my face,

I am home.

I see her, a smile spreads over her

Tears come to her eyes

I bring her close, hold her tight.

We breathe each other in

I can feel the weight in my pocket

I kneel and look up, her beautiful eyes stare back.

A breath

She breaks,

Death leaves her lips.

Our world is shattered.

 

Our Life: Part 4


A Perfect Pair

 

I look at her,

Happiness overtakes her,

I can’t look away.

My stare attempts to see

Everything, remember everything.

Life made simple with her

Life is for her, without I would be nothing

A shadow.

I need her

Desire her

She alone is my perfection.

Life is her.

I hold her close,

I love her.

Never will I leave her.

 

In The Night…


I lay in bed, the harsh light from my computer illuminates my face. Darkness surrounds me. I must have lost track of time. I’ve been down here for so long. I slowly stand, blood rushes to my head and stars cross my vision, the dizziness dissipates and eventually I make my way out of my room. I peer out the glass doors, the invisible guardians that keep the world out there. As I stare at the trees movement causes a light to illuminate the backyard, birds scramble off the feeder, escaping the light as quickly as possible. Squirrels sit, staring back at the light, staring back at me. A figure moves, a shadow, just out of the lights reach. It moves down the gentle slope towards the lake. I stare, hard. The shape looks familiar, almost human like, but its movements are animalistic. Suddenly its head turns and its eyes are illuminated, huge glaring eyes.

I shudder and tell myself it wasn’t real. I explore the house looking for the dog, I need someone to distract me. I find her soon enough and she follows me back to my room. As we lay in bed I pet her, and soon we have both drifted off into a realm of dreams.

I wake to an eyeful of sunlight trying its best to muscle its way into the room, through the inadequate blinds. The dog, Frey, wakes as I begin to get out of bed. I make my way to the kitchen for breakfast, she of course follows, knowing scraps will surely follow a meal. The day continues as normal, I write and read and we go for a walk. As we stroll through the forest I find myself continuously looking around, I am wary and can’t stop my mind from returning to the odd figure of the previous night.

The day runs its course and once again I am in bed, the hours disappearing into the night. Frey suddenly stirs, her ears on alert, she bolts out of bed and runs to the doors. I curiously follow and we both stare out into the murky black of night. Shadows move and fall, a loud bark breaks the silence, I almost jump out of my skin. Frey must see, or smell something. Her tail falls between her legs, she barks once more. She looks up at me, I feel as if I can see terror in her eyes, her whines break the silence. My nerves starting to fray, I grab a flashlight and point it towards the lake. Yet again I am forced to stare just beyond the light’s reach.

The figure suddenly appears, it’s odd gate making it easier to spot. It moves again towards the lake. This time I decide to grab an axe and venture out into the dark. I open the doors as quietly as I can and slowly begin walking towards it. My eyes adjust quickly to the moonlight. As I near the creature, I begin to smell it, a stench, almost of death. The creature seems to be drinking, or eating. It is crouched by the water, with what seems to be a fish in its hands.

For some reason, which I still cannot understand, I yell, I scream at it to get away, to leave. Startled it turns to face me, its eyes glaring, it seems just as terrified as me. We stare at each other, neither of us moving. I raise my axe, yell and charge.

It shies away, giving in, then it turns and awkwardly lopes away.

Never again have I seen that strange creature.

Longing


Artist Jenn Grossman

Artist: Jenn Grossman

Days move slowly, I sit in my chair staring at ‘work’. The dull gray of the day seeps into everything. The screen in front of me illuminates the stagnant space in which I spend hour after hour. I am always waiting. Time is always my enemy.

I wait for love, I wait for happiness, I wait for the next distraction, anything that can take me away from this dull inescapable life.

The wait is always torture, I say to myself ‘only so many days left, only so many hours’ or ‘tomorrow it will be better, next week will be better, next year will be better’. Problems persist and my life goes on, unchanging. ‘Tomorrow will be better’.

I sit here, waiting, the next distraction is only ‘a month, a week, a day’ away. Upon arrival my life will change, the grey will be replaced by vibrance and colour will come back into my world.

Alas, it never does.

I sit here, waiting, once again finding myself staring, this time at paper instead of a glaring screen. Distractions abound and I cannot remember my purpose. My hand moves of its own volition. The pencil dashing across the page, white pristine paper replaced by lines of grey. An image begins to form, my mind awakening from slumber. Excitement sparks through my limbs. I am creating!

The wait is over.

Published!… sort of…


I recently started writing for the website Screenrobot.com, if you are interested in technology, film, tv or gaming I strongly recommend taking a look. It is a great site, with lots of talented writers, plus me. 

Here are two of my articles which were posted this past week.

http://screenrobot.com/halo-tv-show-last-thing-xbox-one-needs/

 
I plan on writing a lot more, both for this blog, Screenrobot and anywhere else that will have me.
 
Feel free to let me know what you think of the articles with comments!

The Wilds of A Wood


78113

My daily walks take me deep into the forest, and for some reason I have decided to go off the path today. The trees here seem taller, older, the forest talks to itself, creaking and whispering amongst each other. Limbs hang everywhere, moss draped over most of the branches, blanketing them for the winter. The air seems heavy and still, I try to continue but the silence becomes deafening and every step seems to echo between the trees.  The gnarled and aged bark glowers at me as I pass each tree, every trunk covered in with texture, so much life, they have seen so much, so many years. I wonder as I stroll, the thoughts of the trees as yet another intruder walks among them. They seem so wise.

The stiff, crisp snow crunches beneath my feet, spring is coming. The days have grown warmer and the melt has caused the snow to become icy. I walk slowly, trying to take in the forest, breathing the clean crisp air, enjoying the rich smells of maple and oak, listening to the whispers of the forest. Life seems so far away here, I wish I could stay, never go back. Back to the world, it scares me, stress and uncertainty haunt me. The dark clouds of responsibility hang over me, the daily routines make my life dry, like a field parched and wishing for rain. Work is dull and grey, love is gone from my life only grief and sadness remains of a soul taken too soon from the world. Even co-workers seem distant and uncaring, worries often overwhelm and I struggle more days than I like. Here in the forest I am free, I do not feel the burdens. The walking relaxes me, calms me.

I press on, deeper into the forest and the silence is penetrating, I stop, I feel eyes on me. I look all around, examining every tree and rock, looking for a culprit. I have never before felt uneasy in this forest. It has always comforted me. My life invades my mind, burdens seem to return, and their weight pulls me down. This uneasy feeling presses on me, I want to turn and run, to get out of this place. I walk a little farther, hoping the movement will alleviate my troubles, but they only seem to get worse. I feel eyes again, I cannot shake the feeling I am being watched.

Suddenly off in the distance I see a dark shadow, still, still as the trees. Curiosity overwhelms my senses and I am forced to creep forward. The snow hindering my steps, I crunch on the icy ground; every step causes a shiver to run through me as I edge nearer. The stillness of the forest is abruptly torn away by a gust of wind, the tree tops sway and creak, their trunks screeching under the strain, their cries reverberating throughout the forest. I move as swiftly and quietly as I can, aided by the winds frightful presence. I move closer and closer, nearer and nearer. The form takes the shape of a man, still draped in shadow, the shape is not very tall, and seems to be bearded. As I get close enough to observe, It doesn’t seem to be wearing any clothes, I realize I am shaking, sweat dripping. Strangest of all, his skin seems the wrong colour, it is not pale as it should be. The statuesque shadow moves ever so slightly, it breathed. My muscles begin to cramp, nervous energy coursing through me.

I lean heavily on the gnarled trunk in front of me, peering carefully.  I am tense, my whole body ready, adrenaline coursing through me. A metallic smell drifts into my nostrils. My skin crawls as realization slams into me, the air in my lungs suddenly disappears causing me to gasp and hold my breath simultaneously. His skin is red, dark red, blood red. He still does not seem to notice my stare. Crimson drips from his fingertips onto the crisp white snow, staining it. There is nothing else around we are completely alone among ancient statues of the forest. Time seems to have slowed, the forest stilled, silence has returned. My heart slamming into my ribcage, it’s pounding echoing in my ears. Then he turns, I see into his cold gray eyes, they pierce into me. I am frozen still, gripped with fear. I want to scream, to run, to get away, I have to escape.

Best Friends


I step in the door and she is waiting, her whines and cries warm my heart. She is always there for me, I tell her about my day and she listens patiently, her eyes staring at me. We go walking and play in the grass and trees running and chasing.

A Necessary Reset


I open the door, the harsh colour of the walls glares back at me and the cracked base board screams ‘FIX ME’. I take a step, telling myself ‘Deep breaths’. I put the box down. Sure it’s not perfect, but neither am I, but it’s mine, it’s me. This is the reset I desperately needed.

I move the pathetically small amount of stuff I own into the new place, MY new place.

I was nervous, terribly nervous; I‘ve never been completely on my own before. I’ve always lived with friends while at school, and then I lived with my girlfriend, correction, ex-girlfriend.

Now, I’m in a new city, with a new career, and nothing to distract me, no excuses. No girlfriend, no friends… I’m terrified. My new job begins in two days. I managed to unpack in all of five minutes (not much came with me). The mess reduced to a minimum.

Boredom has replaced excitement and nervous energy. Realization has set in, no friends… no social life. What am I to do?

I decide a walk will do me good, learn the area.

I leave the building and enter the outside world. Taking in my new surroundings, I walk block after block, street after street. I’m reminded of my friends, I miss them. I’m surrounded by thousands yet I’m alone.

I’m sullen, my head droops. I start questioning myself. “Why did I move here? Alone?” I keep walking. I hear something padding along behind me. I stop and turn around to find a dog looking back at me, a fellow lonely soul. I keep walking, and he keeps following. He follows me home, our new home. The look in his eyes tells me ‘life here isn’t so scary’.

———————————————————————————————-

This was my second post for the weekly writing challenge, focusing on flash fiction.

Let me know what you think, have you ever done a reset? Or wanted a reset?

The Ominous Six


This is a flash fiction six word story, for the writing challenge of the week.

 

Move before death comes, skies alight

 

Feel free to comment and let me know what you think or what came to your mind while reading. Six words is tough… I must say, but I have a feeling I will be posting more soon enough.  It’s just too much fun to try and get something across with so little to work with, an awesome creative challenge.

Am I Alone in These Thoughts…


I am kept awake by thoughts of you, my dreams filled with your touch. Even moments we are near I am invisible, your eyes take no notice of me. How is it you are on my mind constantly yet I am never on yours? I must act, but will you?

The Search


I stare at the blank white,

Waiting and wishing for something to write,

Suddenly it comes to me,

My mind is illuminated as a

Epiphany is my saviour,

Words flow freely with fervour.

The curse is broken,

My mind is awoken.

Foot steps


My footfalls the only sounds, the forest is quiet, the leaves rustle under my feet. The light of day fades, orange and red scar the sky above the canopy. Darkness is coming, the night brings terrors. I move faster, my destination is not far. I listen, something’s footsteps closing in.

The Best of Friends


I step in the door and she is waiting, her whines and cries warm my heart. She is always there for me, I tell her about my day and she listens patiently, her eyes staring at me. We go walking and play in the grass and trees, running and chasing.