WEP - PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

DAY "17th thru the 20th" 

OF THE HAUNTING

Photo by Julie Bittner on Unsplash

PREMONITION

Gray clouds and, occasionally, a mysterious gust of wind would stir the frozen snowflakes into weird dances that haunted Sarah daily. No sun, no birdsong, just the occasional crack and shattering of an icicle falling from a great height and the unusual gurgle of air escaping from the lake were the only sounds that filled her days. 

Sarah did her best to chase the blues away. Singing her favorite songs, Sarah serenaded the ice-filled gorge for her peace of mind and the echoing accompaniment. Sitting atop the rock in her favorite fishing spot, she sang as she fished for the fresh dinner she'd planned for Chet's return. He said he'd be back in a week, if not sooner, either with the rescuers or just to return to her because the mountain was still socked in.

Sarah hadn't heard the sound of one plane or chopper the entire week, even though she'd spent hours listening. Meditating, praying, and visualizing, to no avail. She had not been able to manifest anything positive, but still, she held on to hope.

She stared over the lake, wondering about Chet's location when she heard his voice. 

"Sarah, you really need to be more careful. Pay attention. Be prepared, he's coming." 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chet approaching and turned to greet him, but a sudden yank on her fishing pole had her jerking her attention back to the lake. The rod went flying. She grabbed for it but lost her balance and slid off the rock straight down onto the ice. Chet's makeshift cast on her broken ankle gave way, but so did the ice. Sarah slipped through and into the cold wetness. The pain surging through her body was nothing compared to the intense shock of the water as it consumed her.

Photo by Greg Nerantzakis on Unsplash

She fought with all she had to get back to the surface. But murkiness, tangled reeds, heavy clothes, and a heavier parka weighed her down. Her lungs felt like they'd explode before she would recognize which way was up. But she let go of a lung full of air and watched the bubbles ascend. She kicked off the rocky bottom with her good leg, and with her parka half on and half off, she broke through to the surface. Grappling to find a handhold on the ice and laboring not to be pulled back into the icy water by the heavy parka. She took a deep breath and yelled for Chet. But he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he'd gone for some rope. Calming herself, she removed the water-soaked coat and threw it toward the rocks sticking above the ice on shore that were out of her reach. After three throws, she managed to secure the hood of her parka over a large stone. Sarah pulled herself from the lake and across the rock-filled icy shore.

Breathless and unable to find her crutches, she crawled back to the cave. She knew how deadly hyperthermia was, and her only goal was to get to safety and warmth. But as she dragged her broken foot along the ground, the rest of the splint, mostly gauze, sluffed off. But a section became caught on a stone. She stopped to tear the rest of the makeshift cast off, which left her leg unprotected and made her movements even more painful. She took a moment to catch her breath, pray, and look around. Where the hell was Chet? She knew she'd seen him. She knew she heard his voice.

But a deep silence covered the area. No wind, not even a rustle. The pain in her leg was becoming worse. Even more than she remembered of the initial break. She laid her broken leg across her good leg. Just as a chill wind blew a swirl of snow like a dust devil at her. The clouds darkened, and lightning and thunder shook the gorge. Giant icicles by the dozens crashed to the ground, and blowing snow twirled and blew in all directions.

Darkness had fallen so quickly that it was as though someone had turned the lights out or closed the curtains. Sarah shivered and thought her bones would snap from the instant brittleness caused by the Arctic chill. Then her entire body began shaking uncontrollably. Her extremities burned as though they were on fire, and then they grew numb almost simultaneously. She gathered her strength and pulled herself backward with her hands and arms. She let her good leg protect and haul the broken one. Eventually, she made it to the entrance of the cavern.

Photo by Chris Ensminger on Unsplash

Sighing in relief, she suddenly froze in place. The howl of a wolf, something she'd heard several times since the crash, stopped her cold. The cry was close. This time, the wolf was closer.

She looked up. Atop the cliff was a gray-black wolf, his vicious fang-filled grin intimated at the terror he couldn't wait to inflict.

That's when she realized that Chet wasn't coming back.

He'd warned her.

It was Chet's last heroic deed.

***

842 words

Yolanda Renee © 2023

Tagline: Pay attention to your sixth sense.

This is another excerpt from the 7^th book of my Alaskan Series, Murder on Mount Fairweather, coming out December 2023.

READ THE OTHER ENTRIES HERE

DAY "9" OF THE HAUNTING

 

Photo by Lucia Foster on Unsplash

You'll Do My Bidding

Think I'm kidding

do I look like a fool

don't mess with me

I'll take you to school

the fright is coming

prepare for a dunning

don't delay

a sacrifice may help

muahahahahahah

you stupid welp

you hold no power

but we love your attempt

to keep us at bay

however when we come out to play

the only thing that holds sway

is your soul

the one you'll sell

don't worry, all will be well

for the devil rules

which you'll see 

as  life unfolds!

MUAHAHAHAHA!

***

Yolanda Renée © 2023

 

JOIN US ON OCTOBER 18 – 20

FOR ALL YOUR

HALLOWEEN FUN

DAY "4" OF THE HAUNTING

 

Photo by Jesse Bowser on Unsplash

Text - Your Life Depends On It

"He's there, isn't he? You see him, don't you? No matter how fast I walk, he's still the same distance away. I'm practically breathless from running, and he appears calm. Nonchalant. I'm so scared?" I text my girlfriend.

"To blurry," she answers. "No way to identify him if you end up dead?"

Quit texting, idiot, and run! I tell myself, but take another look….

"He's gone. Oh God, where is he?" I text.

"Hey gorgeous, what's the hurry?" A deep voice asks.

"How?" my last words as I faint in his arms.

"Gotta love texting bitches and a foggy night."

***

Yolanda Renée © 2023

***

MUAHAHAHAHA!

Thought I'd change it up

a drabble for fun.

It's  Halloween

and they say

I'm a horror queen!

LOL!

 

JOIN US ON OCTOBER 18 – 20

FOR ALL YOUR

HALLOWEEN FUN

WEP - Chocolat

Copyright

 

CHOCOLATE

         Sarah sighed heavily and drew an X across the small box showing March 31^st in her calendar. Twenty-four days since the plane crash. Twenty-four days of cold and bitter winds. Even with clean water and the fish caught in the lake, her appetite was lacking, and Chet's insistence that he had to return to the plane left her fearful and sleepless. Add erratic hormones, fear, dwindling supplies, and a woman searching for but failing to find hope, and you have an emotional catastrophe waiting to happen.

Recognizing the signs of a self-indulgent pity party, she closed the calendar. She said a prayer of thanksgiving for the miracle of survival and closed with her favorite chant. "Oh God, My God, thy Name is my healing." Trying to be grateful but anxious and scared, she did her best to meditate but couldn't find the peace she desired.

The sketchbook beside her caught her attention, and she gazed at the drawing she'd completed upon waking. The picture was of a hungry wolf pack. Angry, howling, salivating mouths dripping with the blood of their latest kill. Sarah shut the book and shivered. The nightmare had awakened her, and she'd drawn it, but now it was an hour till dawn, and Chet would rise soon. He slept peacefully a few feet away from her. Her dreams had been about him and his alarming plans. She cuddled in her sleeping bag and waited for him to awaken.

An hour later, he did.

Sarah pretended to be asleep as Chet rolled up his sleeping bag and moved about the cave getting things ready for his trip. Realizing she was being foolish, she greeted him. "Want breakfast?"

"Good morning Sarah, no. I'll wait for lunchtime," he said as he dressed for his trip. "Rescue will be any day now, you'll see," he said, doubling his socks and putting his boots on. "I just want to clear the snow off the main cabin so they can see the plane from the sky. Then I'll light a signal fire using the plane's tires. Black smoke is sure to get someone's attention. I'll use the metal and other debris to create an arrow to show them we're well and waiting. I promise the rescuers will be here before you even have time to miss me," he said without a break.

She watched him closely. Was he trying to convince her or himself?

Sarah tried to smile but was unsuccessful. "Just please, please be careful. I'm worried."

"I know, and I will. I promise. I have to do this. The weather is clearing, and they're looking for the plane. We've been socked in down here but heard them above us, so the top of the mountain must be clear. I have to go to make finding us an easier task." Chet assured her.

"I understand," Sarah said as she stood. "I just wish I were going with you." She wrapped her woolen scarf around his neck.

"Thanks." Chet buried his nose in it and breathed deeply. "It has your perfume on it. It'll be my inspiration," Chet said with a smile. "And I have a special surprise for you." He pulled a package from his pack. "I've been saving it for just this occasion." He handed a small parcel to her.

"Really," she said as she tore the brown paper bag wrapping. Inside was a dark chocolate Hershey bar. Sarah smiled in delight. "Chocolate! My word, how wonderful. Thank you," she said as she hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"I held it back just for that reaction," Chet said. His smile was just as bright as Sarah's. "Fish is getting monotonous, but this should add a bit of delight to your day."

"Oh, it will. Thank you. I'll save some for your return meal. We'll celebrate together."

Chet laughed. "Enjoy all of it. Besides, I'll have the rescuers with me. There won't be time for a meal. Enjoy it while you wait. Once off this blasted mountain, we'll celebrate with champagne and chocolate eclairs. How's that sound?"

"Wonderful," she said and hugged him again. Except she felt like crying instead of laughing. But for him, she held her tears in check. Despite all his assurances, she was beyond worried.

Unsure she was being ridiculous or an overly emotional pregnant lady, she kept her fear to herself. He'd heard the wolf's cry, just as she had, but since he had the shotgun, his mind was made up. Rescue depended on letting the rescuers know where they were, he said repeatedly, and she knew he was right. But fear is the thief of hope, and she had a bad case. Still, she shook it off. She didn't want him to leave with worry for her on his mind.

Chet grabbed his backpack and snowshoes. He surveyed the cavern. "I hate to take the tent," he said, hesitating as if rethinking his decision. The tent had been her private room. A space for her to be alone and feel safe.

"Don't. I'm fine in here without it. You'll need it more than I will. Did you take enough dried fish?" She asked, even though she'd packed it the night before.

Chet smiled. "I did. You just be careful outside, okay?"

Sarah nodded. "You too."

All words spoken. Chet turned to the cave entrance.

Sarah grabbed her crutch, which Chet had carved for her on their first night in the cave. She followed him to the mouth of the cavern and watched as he walked to the rope hanging from the rocks above. He hesitated, turned for one last look at the frozen waterfall, then he waved, and she returned the gesture. Chet deftly climbed the cliff to the path that led to the plane. In a flash, he was gone, and she was alone.

Shivering uncontrollably, she looked at the bar of dark chocolate in her hand and sobbed like a child.

~ ***~

988 words

Yolanda Renée © 2023

Tagline: Solace is found in the simplest gesture.

This is another excerpt from the 7^th book of my Alaskan Series, Murder on Mount Fairweather, coming out December 2023. 

I must credit the WEP prompts for inspiring my writing this year. I've failed most of my writing goals for 2023, but because of the WEP, I keep plugging away.

PLEASE JOIN US 

ADD YOUR CHOCOLAT STORY BELOW!

XXX