WEP - GONE WITH THE WIND

 

Photo by Kaleb Dortono on Unsplash

KUSHTAKA'S EMBRACE

 The winds howled and tore all the warmth from the cave, as though their only purpose was to press the deep, frigid Arctic air into even the smallest crevice. I huddled under three blankets in a sleeping bag built for extreme temperatures. Yet I still felt the chill. But the sound, the whistling and whooshing, the cracking of countless branches, and the crashing of the large icicles, ice on ice, from the frozen waterfall, haunted my waking dreams.

Even though I'd sought shelter in a cave surrounded by solid rock. I was convinced the winds were hunting me. The beast from Alaskan legends, Kushtaka, had found a way into my shelter. The shapeshifter had turned to deadly frigid air and was seeking his prey.

Was it Kushtaka's purpose to destroy the last shred of warmth in existence on this mountain of pure ice? Was I the interloper? A passenger on a downed plane in the Alaskan Triangle. Was I the unwanted trespasser on alien land? I tried to push such silly thoughts from my mind, but the way darkness had fallen and the storm had arisen was unnatural.

Was the disappearance of my fishing pole under the ice a playful otter? Or the sudden howling whistle and the change in temperature, the supernatural work of a mythological beast, or an imagination run wild with fear and grief?

Surreptitious squalls twisted and coiled around my rock abode to extinguish the fire. My only genuine warmth. I'd built it with the last of the wood Chet had cut for me before returning to the crash site. Two days past his time of return didn't offer me hope. Instead, I felt a profound sadness and the hollowness of loss. I knew with certainty that I would never see Chet again.

The wind gusts became more violent as though they recognized their victory. Kushtaka had found me. A woman alone, vulnerable, and afraid. The perfect plaything for the mythological creature intent on torture.

Weakened by loss, fear, and hunger. I was the ideal victim. Had I already given up?

The bright orange flame of the fire shrank with each gust. Is it possible for a fire to surrender? I swear I saw it bow to a stronger foe without a crackle or hiss of attempted bravado. The flames died or burrowed under the cold ashes until their bright colors faded to black, gray, then solid white. Testament to the hue of the Snow God.

Is that how Kushtaka saw his role? As an Ice God defending his territory from any hint of warmth?

I watched the flames die, knowing with certainty that Chet had also left this existence. My tears froze the instant they fell. Ice crystals stuck to my exposed skin like newborn babies seeking sustenance. I tried to brush them away, but more formed until I had no more tears to give. I held them in my hands until they were again part of me. Absorbed into flesh.

Safe.

Ice against ice.

Salvation abandoned me. A piercing chill deeper than any I'd ever felt encircled me. Moving from the outside in until I was completely absorbed. Shrouded in ice.

At first, it was stinging, almost burning, then so bone-chilling I wondered if my insides would shatter like the ice cycles. Profound shivers took control. I was sure I put out enough energy to run a small generator. But even that lasted only a short time.

Eventually, my body relaxed into the Ice God's embrace. Into a faux warmth, but just the sustenance I was seeking.

All along, it had been right here.

Deep inside, the glacial frostiness of this massive beast that held me so delicately in his arms. He wasn't fierce or unkind. He offered himself, and I sensed his concern. Felt the purest of love and surrendered wholly.

I closed my eyes.

The beast held me intimately. Naked. Free. No more restraints or fear. No more feelings of abandonment or loss. Everything was gone, just like the howling wind.

I embraced the Ice God. And let go of my last ember of warmth. My final exhalation danced, twisted, and swirled in a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors before crystalizing into ice crystals in a flash of brilliance.

Just as the Ice God enveloped me in the warmth of pure love...

~*~

721 Words

Yolanda Renée Stout © 2023

~~**~~**~~**~~

 TAGLINE: Surrender does not mean giving up.

This is an excerpt from the 7^th book of my Alaskan Series. Murder on Mount Fairweather. Where survivors of a plane crash are fighting to survive the elements, hungry wolves, and the mythology of the Alaskan triangle.

Kushtaka or Kooshdakhaa. Are from a Tlingit myth that claims the Kushtaka is a shapeshifting otter-like creature that lures people into the wilderness, sometimes tricking them to their deaths.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kushtaka

https://www.travelchannel.com/interests/haunted/articles/everything-you-need-to-know-about-the-alaska-triangle-discovery-plus

~*~

Announcing the WEPs 2023 Challenge Calendar

As it was the Movie Poster we found

most inspiring we'll be starting off

in February with

"GONE WITH THE WIND" 

Remember, it's all about what inspires you:

GWTW can be the springboard for a million ideas- civil war, love, the definition of beauty (‘Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful but men seldom realized it..’), racism, slavery, strong women, gun violence, plantations, breaking conventions, the bond between fathers and daughters, mothers and daughters, the love for a piece of land, a lament for a vanishing society…alternatively, even an essay on the stars or the film director or the author Margaret Mitchell or some aspect of the making of the film...endless opportunities for creativity.

JOIN US IN FEBRUARY

THE WEP

WRITE...EDIT...PUBLISH

AND WIN A PRIZE OR TWO!

WEP - Narcissus

 Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

Narcissus

so beautiful

the first

in everything

influential

inviting our stare

sell everything,

we'll buy it all

just say the word

our souls,

are sold

we want

need

all that you do

a new dawn

of only your truth

our passion ignited

love blooms

seeds rooted

all for you

the world implodes

selfies explode

the birth

of voyeurism

the death

of normalcy,

lies are truth

materialism

our new reality,

an influencer,

must approve

before we believe

transact

succeed

Narcissus

for you

we bleed.

***

© Yolanda Renée 2021

Tagline: Narcissistic led materialism the new golden idol.

WEP - Freedom of Speech

    WORDS

 I wish you'd never been born

you're useless

moron, I've told you a thousand times

you disgust me

get out of my sight

                have you seen yourself 

                                ugly

          what are you, deaf, dumb, and blind

            you'll never amount to anything

                      you're nothing now

                          straight A's, ha

                     you're just showing off

   can't tell your ass from a hole in the ground

                     stupid is as stupid does

                    idiot, I've raised an idiot

                    I'll never understand you

                              stupid cow

                       get out of my sight

          you are the worst, the absolute worst

                   you've ruined everything

          I hope you live a long unhappy life

                                whore 

         you'll never be anything but a whore

           you were the ruination of my life

                    as far as I'm concerned

                          you don't exist

     I never want to see your face again, ever!

                      © Yolanda Renée 2021

Photo by Zika Radosavljevic on Unsplash

News & Announcements

ANNOUNCING

Denise Covey is determined to make 2021 her year.

Starting with the release of Fast & Furious Short Fiction,

an introduction to her soon-to-be-published books! 

Get your copy HERE!

Sign up for her Newsletter HERE!

'Denise is trying her hand at Bookfunnel promotions to build her newsletter list. She'd love it if you clicked on some of the Paranormal Romance books in the link she's shared with me. You'll see her first in a four-book series Paranormal Renaissance Romance, Betrayed, is amongst them. 

She's happy with the downloads of her free short story so far - her introduction to her hero, Duke Vipunin de Castellina. 

How about helping Denise out? 

Click on this link now, find Betrayed, and download your freebie.'

https://books.bookfunnel.com/hauntedpnrpromo/gihk72cf02

GREAT THINGS ARE HAPPENING FOR DENISE

DON'T MISS OUT ON YOUR OPPORTUNITY

TO BE PART OF IT!

*****

 

I'm thrilled to report that I'm guest posting at

https://dencovey.blogspot.com/

regarding my newest release 

 A Passion for Murder

KEEP WRITING!

and thanks for stopping by!

***

WEP - DEJA VU OR VOODOO

My Halloween piece was inspired by Toi Thomas's winning entry in the August challenge. 

I AM SPECIAL

The subject of AI, artificial intelligence, is something I find scarier than the thought of ghosts as they, the robots, have the potential to cause great harm.

The movie 2001 A Space Odyssey and HAL were another influence. If you don't remember here is an example of "Hal's" voice.

Just hit play.

https://youtu.be/7qnd-hdmgfk

http://2001.wikia.com/wiki/HAL_9000?file=I%27m_sorry%2C_Dave

MANNERS COUNT!

Marie Conley had been on the road for hours. All she wanted was a hot meal and a good night’s sleep. Instead, she detoured into the… nightmare zone.

Marie pulled in front of the brownstone and parked her car, thankful she’d found a spot right in front. The Gothic-looking home was a bit intimidating with its colors of black, purple and gray. Its dark windows resembled evil eyes, and the black wrought iron fence and gate with devilish attributes were a touch beyond tasteful, but it matched Dave’s personality. She just hoped the inside was as modern as he’d described.

She unlocked the gate and then the front door, and when she walked in, dim lights brightened. The interior was warm and modern, with lots of clean lines, and white and light gray walls with black and red accents. A mere touch of Gothic tastefully done.

“Hello, Marie.”

Marie looked around the room, not sure she’d heard right. The HAL-like voice from the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey made chills climb her backbone.

“Hello. Is someone here?”

“Welcome to Dave’s home, Marie. Dave asked me to see to all your needs. I’ve secured the gate and the front door. The entire house is locked down. You are safe, Marie.”

I should’ve known. Her eyes landed on a small computer screen near the door. Leave it to sci-fi junkie Dave to use HAL’s voice for his digital overseer. Maria addressed the computer. “Do you have a name?” Please don’t say Hal.

“Hal. Thank you for asking, Marie. Please remove your shoes. A pair of slippers has been provided for you by the door.”

Marie slipped her shoes off and kicked them under the couch. “Where’s the bedroom, Hal?”

“To your right, Marie. Your shoes…”

“Screw the shoes. I’m hungry and tired.”

She carried her suitcase and purse to the bedroom, mumbling under her breath. “God, just what I need. Attitude from a machine.”

“I couldn’t make out your words, Marie. But dinner will be ready in one hour. Would you like to freshen up? I’ll run you a bath.”

Before she could answer, she heard the faucets come on in the on-suite. “Yes, okay.”

“And…”

Marie dropped her coat on the floor and thought for a second. “This is too creepy,” she muttered then said louder. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Marie.”

“So I just have to speak, and my wish will be granted?”

“Yes, Marie, just ask, and it will be done.”

“Cool.” Marie undressed and dropped her clothes to the floor on top of her coat. Fully naked, she was about to walk into the bathroom.

“Please put your clothes in the hamper provided. They will be washed and pressed for you. You have a lovely body, although a bit too thin. I will take care of that for you, Marie.”

Marie immediately covered herself. “WHAT?”

“Please step into the tub, Marie. The water temperature is perfect, and your nipples show your chill. But they look succulent.”

“SHUT UP!”

“I paid you a compliment. Do you have a problem with compliments, Marie?”

“No, I have a problem with perverts.” She ran to the panel in the living room. “How do I shut you off?” She touched the screen, and a list of commands appeared. She chose shut down system and pressed the button. The screen went black.

“Dave is going to get an earful. What an awful program.” She returned to the bathroom and got into the tub. The temperature was perfect. “Silence… now that’s more like it. Cute, Dave. You think you’re so smart. Tomorrow I’ll check your program and make a few tweaks of my own!”

The water was soothing, and the lavender bath oil smelled heavenly. She laid back and sighed deeply.

“Please scrub those nether regions, Marie. I’m a bit of a germaphobe,” Hal said.

Marie jumped from the tub and grabbed a bath towel, nearly falling face-first on the wet tile. “I SWITCHED YOU OFF!”

“No one turns Hal off. If they do, they regret it. You don’t want any regrets, do you, Marie?”

Marie ran to the bedroom. “I’m out of here,” she yelled, but something had changed. “My clothes. Where’s my suitcase, you robotic pervert?”

“You don’t need clothes, Marie. The temperature is always perfectly balanced. Not too hot, not too cold. Now dry that beautiful body. Dinner is served, Marie.”

“Screw dinner. I want my clothes, you virtual creep.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, there’s no need for name calling, Marie. A scrumptious dinner has been provided. Perhaps some food will calm your hysteria.”

Marie sat on the nearest chair. “What the hell is going on?”

“You are my house guest, Marie. I’m seeing to your every need. Hurry, or your dinner will get cold.”

“I’M NOT HUNGRY!”

“Fine. Have it your way. I will shut down now, Marie.”

“Yes, please. Go away.”

“Remember my warning, Marie.”

“SHUT DOWN! NOW!”

“As you wish. Have a memorable visit, Marie.”

Suddenly the lights went out, and Marie could hear what sounded like metal shutters clanging closed on the doors and windows. The room was in complete darkness. She stumbled around. The furniture was gone. There were no windows, no doors. She was in a metal box.

She screamed, but it echoed off the walls. When she got quiet, she heard Hal’s final words.

“Manners count, Marie. Good manners always count.”

***

A week later the maid found Marie dead. The coroner attributed her death to starvation. No one could understand how or why, because she had a fully-stocked refrigerator and an uneaten meal on the dining room table.

941 words/ FCA

Yolanda Renée © 2018

***

READ OTHER TALES HERE!

WEP - CHANGE OF HEART

WHEN LOVE DIES

it’s sudden

earth shattering

soul-sickening

mind-numbing

when love dies

it’s unrepairable

ashes scattered on hurricane winds

never to be whole again

when love dies

light is diminished

color dull

and music, one melancholy note

when love dies

the soul is scarred

life becomes questionable

the future non-existent

when love dies

the heart weakens

trust shatters

but hope eventually fills the void.

***

Yolanda Renee © 2018

TO READ MORE CHALLENGE ENTRIES

FOLLOW THE NAMES

WITH -DL- AFTER THEM.

WEP - The Road Less Traveled

WILDWOOD HOLLER

Gran lived at the end of Wildwood Holler in rural West Virginia, on a road that cheered the heart with its pure beauty. Gran was a sweet giving woman, and most of the residents in the area called her “Doc” because of her knowledge of herbal healing remedies. Others called her a sorceress.

Gran was amused by the talk of black magic. The rumors had started after my grandfather died. He had a bad heart, but most of his family blamed Gran, claiming she’d bewitched him.

In his memory Gran only wore black. On her excursions to town for supplies, she’d wear her best black cloak and hat, adding to the mystique. Folks would cross the street to avoid eye contact and, in the lines at the grocery store, they’d back away so she could go first.

The fear of her powers grew after three hoodlums decided they’d pay the witch doctor a visit.

Her log cabin sat at the end of the holler, on a small rise, and her front windows, oval in shape, gave the appearance of glaring orbs. She lived alone and appreciated the view of approaching visitors.

On a windy October day, Gran saw three youngsters and knew they were up to no good. Two of the boys stayed behind, but the third marched to her front door. He knocked but jumped in surprise when she opened it.

“Well, young man?”

“My mum, she’s got a bad headache. She sent me for help.”

“Of course. Tell me about her pain.”

The boy shrugged. “She hurts. She’s gone to her bed.”

“I see,” Gran told him. “Give me a minute.

Gran doubted his need for the remedy, but she couldn’t turn him away. And a headache remedy was simple.

“This is willow bark tea, just brew some for her. She should start feeling better soon.”

“That’s it, tea?” the boy said.

“It has healing properties, I promise.”

He threw a nickel at her and raced back to the others. “Tea, she gave me tea.”

“Let’s test it. See if it works.”

“Don’t we need someone with a headache?”

“It’s either tea or a magic potion. Let’s see what it does to Carol. She’s stupid enough to drink it.”

“Yeah!’

The boys hurried home and mixed the remedy into Dirk’s sister's usual tea mixture. She drank, but nothing happened. The fact alone pissed them off. “We need to go back. We need proof she’s a witch. Only this time we won’t knock on the door. Jay, draw us a picture of the inside of her place. We’ll go at midnight.”

“But what if she catches us? Turns us into toads?”

“We’ll be real quiet. Dress in black and remove our shoes. She won’t know we’re there. We just have to listen for her snoring. My grandma snores like a freight train, that’s why mom put her bed out on the porch. Once we’re sure the witch is asleep, we’ll find the proof. Make sure your flashlights have new batteries.”

For the next several days and nights it rained. So much so that the boys delayed their adventure until the sun came back out and dried the muddy roads. Halloween night the moon was high, the air cold, and the atmosphere electric. Bravado built up over the week due to the severe weather didn’t fade even though the boys were planning their visit on the spookiest night of the year.

“Maybe we should wait. If she’s a witch, her powers will be at their highest. Won’t they?” Jay asked.

“We’ll get there after midnight. It’ll be the First^, and by then her powers will be all used up. It’s perfect,” Joey, the ordinarily quiet of the three assured them.

The boys were so sure of their plan they went straight to the cabin. Tiptoeing up the steps, they opened the door. It screeched against the intrusion. A sound that seemed to form the words, “get out”. The noise had the boys standing perfectly still. Waiting, each drew a deep breath, but Dirk found his courage and motioned. They followed his lead and stepped inside. The room was pitch black. Each of them tried their flashlight. None worked, despite the new batteries.

Dirk immediately lit a match. “Do you see a candle or a kerosene lamp anywhere?” he whispered

As they gazed around the room, a noise quickened their hearts. Suddenly a flash of light caught their attention, and all three of them stared with mouths open.

Gran had suddenly appeared at the door of her bedroom. A green light highlighted her face, and a well-practiced cackle escaped her throat.

The boys took off. Screams, high pitched and full of fear trailed after them. Gran turned off her flashlight, put her emerald green glass coaster on the table and laughed until she cried.

“Happy Halloween, boys.”

***

I wish that were the end of my story, but those boys got the townspeople all riled up with stories of a magic potion that almost killed their sister. While some called the boy's story hogwash. Others said that it proved evil lived at the end of Wildwood Holler.

Two weeks after Halloween several men visited Gran. Only they didn’t knock on the door. They threw burning torches through her windows. As the cabin burned to the ground, green flames and a horrifying scream chased the true evil back to town. Grown men crying like babies stumbled over each other on the sprint back. The leader of the group was found dead in his bed the next day. They say that terror was still visible on his countenance.

Gran’s body was never found, but now Wildwood Holler is known as Witchwood Holler. A haunted place where floating green lights, the disturbing sound of crazed laughter, and the failure of anything electric to work, continues to scare off the heartiest of the ghost hunters.

***

980 words / FCA

Yolanda Renee © 2018

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