Showing posts with label WEP Write Edit Publish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label WEP Write Edit Publish. Show all posts

Sunday, October 15, 2023

DAY "15" OF THE HAUNTING

 

Photo by Steven Van Elk on Unsplash


LIFE IS DEATH


You thought I lied

I'm only opening your eyes

but see those numbers

it's no time to slumber

we're coming for you

me and my crew

an invasion of evil

a world in upheaval

will you laugh or cry

or simply sigh

ignore my theme

or will you scream

anything's possible

this season of dreams

time to prepare

fulfill all desires

expose the terrifiers

they won't win

fun isn't a sin

so take a breath

life is death

when winter leaves

it's spring we bring

it's a harvest ball, after all.

MUAHAHAHAHA!

***

JOIN US ON OCTOBER 18 – 20

FOR ALL YOUR

WEP

HALLOWEEN FUN



Tuesday, June 20, 2017

WEP - BURNING BRIDGES



BURNING BRIDGES



          “Quit daydreaming!” A large crack sounded as pain registered across Heather’s back.

       “Sorry, Master.” Heather bowed despite the pain and hurriedly lifted another crate of canned goods onto the wagon. And then another and another until all the vegetables were loaded for market. Taking a deep breath, she added the final two crates of fresh goods. Fear and an intense need to please the master had her finishing in no time.

       “Loaded and secured, Master.” She knelt at his feet.

       “About time.” He jumped into the seat and grabbed the reins. “I’ve left a list of chores to keep your idle hands busy. The most important is the wedding dress. Finish it. Mr. Humphries paid a handsome price for your lazy hide, so make sure you’re ready.”

       “I will, Master.”

       “You will or you’ll marry naked. Make sure your room is cleared and ready for your replacement. She’ll return with me.”

       “Thank you, Master.” She bowed and kissed the dirty hem of his robe. “Please have a safe trip.”

       He snapped his whip. Heather flinched at the sound but watched his departure until he was out of sight and the dust cloud created by thundering hooves dissipated.

       Joy radiated from her toes to her fingertips as the Master’s distance grew. Bliss filled her soul. Her body swayed, and a song rose from her throat. Heather sang and danced until breathless, then sank to the ground and lay among the forget-me-nots.

“Have you decided?” a tiny voice asked. It came from a small body. Transparent wings vibrated faster than a hummingbird. The nymph flitted from flower to flower before settling on Heather’s knee as she sat up.

       “I’m not sure,” she told him.

       “What’? Are you daft? Either you cross the bridge to freedom or marry old man Humphrey and slop his swine until he decides to kill you.

       “Ethan, don’t be so dramatic.”

       “My best friend Bertrand saw it. He tried to intervene and lost both his legs because of it. I wouldn't lie to you.”

       “Nymphs are bewitchers – little devils.” She gazed at him through her eyelashes, embarrassment reddening her cheeks.

       “Master told you that?” The small nymph stood on her knee his hands on his hips, his wings still and glistening in the sunshine.

Heather nodded. She found the creatures’ bright blue eyes mesmerizing despite his ugliness and spindly limbs. He looked like a twisted twig, only his eyes and perfect white teeth were human in nature.

“Have I not healed the many wounds he’s inflicted or aided you when the chores became too much? Why do you question me?” He sat down in the lotus position on her knee cap. His arms crossed and his eyes wide and questioning.

She giggled. “You’re always so serious. The horrors you describe just can’t exist. The world is too beautiful.” She threw her arms open to the heavens.

“You would be concerned too if Master didn’t have you enthralled with black magic. Do you remember how you got here?”

“I’ve tried, but no. My only memories are of Master’s love for me.”

“Love? You call daily beatings love?”

“He says I’m a silly girl given to a restless mind. He’s right. I have daydreams. He took me in when I was homeless, and he’s given me everything.”

“The Master lies!” Ethan flew up from her knee in a huff and sprinkled her in sparkling dust. “REMEMBER!” He flew off in a blur.

Glittering remnants of the dust settled onto her exposed skin and then disappeared. Memories began flooding her mind. Recollections of another life, another place and time. A family. The mother she resembled, her adoring father, the sister who looked up to her. Even the wedding she’d planned to a handsome young man named Cody. But most surprising was her name – Logan Marshall, not Heather.

Her scream brought Ethan back. “Now do you see?”

“Where am I?” She looked at the world differently.

That doesn't matter, but if you follow me, I’ll show you how to get back to your life.”

“Show me.”

Ethan flew toward the forest, and Logan followed. The plowed fields were densely packed but easy to traverse. She stopped right before entering the dark forest.

“Why do you hesitate?”

“I’ve heard screams. Master says wild man-eating beasts live here.”

“Peacocks. This is my home. There’s nothing to fear!”

Logan looked back at the log cabin, the farm that had been her home, but memories of a family tugged at her. Hesitation vanished. She joined Ethan who waited just inside the foliage. He led the way to a clearing. The gorge opening yawned wide before them. The end of the road.

“Where’s the bridge?”

Ethan whistled and threw out more glittering dust. A bridge of fire appeared. “See, salvation.”

“Fire? No way!” She backed away.

“Blue flame is magic, cool.” Ethen flew through it. “See, move closer, you’ll feel no heat. You’re pure of heart. An innocent. Strip first, you have to leave everything from this world behind to make the journey.”

Logan stepped forward, and a mixture of blue, green and purple flames formed a solid looking bridge with massive girders. Instead of crackling the fire sounded like the flutter of hundreds of nymph’s wings. Ethan was right, she felt no heat.

She kicked off her shoes, removed her smock and underclothes, but hesitated.

“Go on, your family is waiting.”

She smiled and took the first step forward. “Thank you.”

“No problem, saving virgins is my calling.”

Logan’s eyes grew wide. “But I’m not . . .

Ethan laughed.

Logan screamed as the flames consumed her.

“I know. But each sacrifice brings me closer and closer to becoming a full demon and owning a kingdom of slave maidens of my own.” His skin turned red and horns popped out on his bald head.

970 words
© Yolanda Renée 2017

BE SURE TO CHECK OUT THE OTHER ENTRIES!







Monday, December 19, 2016

WEP - MELTING SNOW


Judgement day for the winter ice challenge had arrived, and they were excited to learn if their favorites had won. Glenna had chosen the Dragon War, and David had picked the Angels in Flight. The winner would buy dinner at Anchorage's best restaurant, The Crow's Nest.
David told her the freshly fallen snow was the lure, but she knew that a proposal was his goal. Glenna was ready for the commitment. After all, they'd been together for over a year, and two people more suited didn't exist. They had similar goals, enjoyed all things outdoor, and they both agreed that love and family were the keys to success.
She'd met the handsome pilot on a flight she'd taken during a school training project. His knowledge and skill made the trip a success, and their first date left no doubt they had a future together. He'd cooked dinner for her over a campfire in the back yard of the cabin he'd built with his own hands. Fresh salmon, corn on the cob, new potatoes, and homemade blueberry ice cream. The way to a man's heart may be through his stomach, but for Glenna, his down-home cooking, adventure filled stories, and sense of humor had won her heart.
"Think twice, Sissy!" David shouted and threw the first snowball; just a handful of snow, but it caught Glenna by surprise.
"You're in trouble now," she yelled, but quickly gathered two handfuls and formed a perfect ball. She threw it, laughing and ducking at the same time. Their snowball fight lasted just minutes, but his concussion and subsequent coma would mar their future.
*****
Sissy, or Glenna Parks, as her friends knew her, rinsed her face with cold water, and stared at her reflection. Haggard looking after another sleepless night, she wondered how life could take such a sharp, sudden turn.
She'd just won the job of a lifetime and would be teaching history at the University of Alaska in Anchorage. David Carter, her beau, was about to pop the question, his recent inquiry the clue.
"How do you feel about antique jewelry?" he'd asked.
"I love all things with a history," she'd told him.
Life couldn't have been sweeter. She recalled his last kiss, confident that he was going down on one knee then. Instead, he gathered up a handful of snow and changed their lives forever.
Now he couldn't even recall her name. At first, he didn't know his own name, even denied being a pilot, claimed to be afraid of heights, and a Texan living in Alaska, not reality. The man who awoke from the coma was not the man who had slipped on the ice.
Dripping water reminded her of the blood she'd tried to staunch with their woolen scarves but to no avail. The paramedics hurried him away, and she followed. Glenna willed him back to consciousness, but she wasn't prepared for the hateful stranger who greeted her.
Now, a week later, a few memories had returned giving her hope that the rest would soon follow. Glenna wasn't sleeping, barely eating, and David's lack of recognition hurt on a level she didn't even know existed. Yesterday, he'd asked her to leave him alone.
"I don't need a stranger watching or commenting on my every move. Especially one with sad puppy dog eyes."
Hiding her tears, she left. Today she'd returned with an entire picture album of their adventures together, something to spark David's memory. She promised herself she would just drop it off, but when she arrived, he was asleep. She waited, watched, prayed, and eventually fell into a deep sleep herself.
Still holding his hand, she dreamed of the David she knew. The warmth and strength of him were as she remembered, but reality was waking in a sterile hospital room with spittle dripping from her open mouth. She rushed into the bathroom to revive herself. Gazing into the mirror, she vowed to recapture their happiness.
"Hey, beautiful. I was hoping you'd return for a visit," David said. The tone, the comment, hey beautiful, was pure David. Ready to answer, she dried her face, but someone else beat her to it.
"Hi, handsome. You look better. How are you feeling?"
Giggling.
"Oh my, you are feeling better!" The voice of the doctor who'd admitted him sounded too friendly, syrupy, and seductive.
"Except for an almost constant headache, pretty darn good, especially now that you're here!" David cooed.
Glenna listened. Their conversation wasn't the typical discussion between doctor and patient. They were flirting.
"Why don't you spring me from this place? I'll buy dinner?' David asked.
"First thing tomorrow morning. Dinner sounds wonderful, but I thought you were spoken for. What's her name? Glenda?"
"Glenna? No. No way, she's not my type. Believe me. We're just friends. I actually had to ask her to leave. I honestly hope she never comes back. That whiny voice of hers grates on the ears. Besides, what adult woman would ever accept Sissy as a nickname?"
"You sure you remember everything. What about the ring we found in your pocket?"
"Yeah, I know. The engagement ring was my mother’s. Dad sent it to me along with a few other mementos. That ring has nothing to do with Sissy."
The way he said her nickname hurt deep in her soul. It was meant to be something only they shared. Sissy was an endearment her grandfather used when she was younger, and David claimed for his own. No one else could call her Sissy.
 Glenna managed to leave the room without notice. The silhouette of their embrace on the curtain, then the sound of kissing assaulted her as she crept away. She dropped the picture album in the wastebasket and left the hospital just moments after a blizzard hit, but she didn't feel the Arctic chill, or the warm tears streaming from her eyes.
Nor did Glenna see the car that careened out of control due to the ice and snow.

Yolanda Renée © 2016
996 words / FCA


Follow the link to read more 
WEP Utopian Dreams Entries.





Just Released
Memories of Murder 
on
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Tuesday, August 16, 2016

WEP - A STONE GARDEN

This is my entry for the WEP Gardens Flash Fiction Challenge. Please be warned the story took a dark turn. It wasn't meant to, but when I write I go where the prompt takes me. I've been working on my WIP The Snowman, and I'm afraid the antagonist took over this project. 
This picture was my inspiration, especially when I envisioned it in a winter setting. 


Gardens always mean something else, 
man absolutely uses one thing to say another.

~Robert Harbison, Eccentric Spaces, 1977


A STONE GARDEN

Janelle finally arrived home. The day had been exhausting, and the drive seemed to have taken hours, when in truth, it had barely been one. Fresh snow always slowed traffic to a crawl. She almost wished she'd rented a place in town, but when a childhood friend had offered his fabulous home at no cost, well, it was perfect. Too good to be true, but that was before the harassment started. Now she dreaded coming home.
John Hughes's elegant house was located on a ridge over Cheat Lake just minutes from the University of Morgantown. The police had suggested she update the security system, but she was house sitting and needed his permission first. John immediately agreed and gave her the number of a security firm. The police and the company she'd contracted had suggested cameras. Janelle vetoed the idea—at least inside the house. The last thing she wanted was to be a YouTube sensation.
Threats originally came in the form of letters addressed to the bitch in residence. At first, Janelle thought it was a joke. She was new in town, a professor at the university with John as the only other person she knew well. John suggested that maybe his former girlfriend was the target, but the letters became personal when they included pictures of her. Her stalker had taken them as she went about her day at the university and around town.
After contacting the police, Janelle learned that several women had received the same threatening letters. The police assured her the man was harmless. They suggested that he was just trying to create terror on a broad spectrum but would never follow through. She prayed they were right, but soon after her visit to police headquarters, the phone calls started. The messages were grotesque and sexual in nature, the voice mechanical.
Janelle almost packed her bags after Detective Malaren informed her she was the only one receiving the threatening calls. Fear gripped her fully, but she found her courage and made getting the security system updated, her principal goal. Detective Malaren also suggested a roommate or bodyguard. She agreed.
Tomorrow the installation would happen and tonight she would play host to her first personal bodyguard, all on her tab. Until this creep was behind bars, Janelle didn't want to be alone in a large home several miles from town. 
Before unlocking the door and switching on the lights, she checked the road leading to the house and wondered where the bodyguard was. The security firm assured her he'd meet her at the house, would probably be waiting when she arrived. He wasn't. Janelle blamed the snowstorm.
All she wanted was a soft chair and a glass of wine, but instead, started a pot of coffee, and searched the refrigerator for staples to begin dinner, wondering if she should make enough for two. She noticed that the house was unusually cold, verified via the thermostat. Worried that the furnace was on the blink, she went to the den to build a fire. The air was more frigid than usual. French doors leading out to the deck were standing open. Snow had drifted inside. Had she forgotten to latch them? The wind on that side of the house sometimes popped them open if left unlocked. She wondered if the new security installation would fix the problem.
Turning on the exterior lights, she stepped onto the deck. During the darkness of winter, the owner, John, wanted to see his beautifully landscaped yard. Spotlights highlighted the bridge across the small creek, and a new layer of snow covered evergreens, Japanese maples, and massive boulders. 
Statues of angels graced the area, each one featured in a heavenly glow. The recent snowfall made it a winter wonderland. Most mornings would find Janelle seemingly mesmerized by the beauty of the garden while she nursed a cup of coffee and contemplated life. The panorama brought her joy, and no matter the season, the changing beauty filled her with peace.
Tonight, at this moment, the cherished Vista froze her to the spot. The beautiful winter paradise was now her nightmare come tangible.
Someone had shattered the angels and splattered them with blood. Most of the spotlights now glowed red. On the frozen creek laid the torsos of three women. Their naked bodies staged grotesquely. Their heads hung from the ornate bridge, tied in place by their hair. A trail of blood flowed from each body. Beheaded on the icy creek and immediately strung up on the bridge. Their grisly end caught in deaths final scream.
Janelle recognized the other women tormented with the beast's haunting letters. The sight sent her reeling backward. The sound of her screams dragged her into a living nightmare where there was no escape.
Someone stood in her way. Janelle fainted. He caught her. Held her inert body and looked beyond her to the scene in the snow, a smile splayed across his face.
Written in blood above the bodies - a crude message -Welcome Home, Lover.

The police found Janelle's body on a pedestal in the garden. Sitting in the lotus position with an elaborate pair of feathered wings crudely sewn into her back and a pentagram cut into her chest. The only other wounds were the deep cuts on her wrists. She'd bled out in place. Paralyzed by drugs, Janelle had been unable to move while the horror played out. The other women had suffered the same fate. They'd been aware of the torture, the beheading, and their assailant.
The security firm insisted the owner, John Hughes, had canceled the bodyguard that Janelle had hired because he was on his way home. When they reached John, he was still in Europe and would be for the next six months.
***
Stone downloaded the pictures to his computer and masturbated as he relived each delicious moment of the night before. Several loud knocks on the ceiling startled him from his pleasuring.
"Stowie, breakfast!"
         "Coming, Mommy."


***
997 Words / FCA
Yolanda Renee © 2016

Enjoy more entries from the WEP Gardens Challenge from the list below!






Sunday, July 31, 2016

A NEW CHALLENGE





It's easy. It's simple and it's fun!

Prizes are awarded!

In the garden I tend to drop my thoughts here and there. To the flowers I whisper the secrets I keep and the hopes I breathe. I know they are there to eavesdrop for the angels. ~Dodinsky 




Friday, July 8, 2016

WEP = GARDENS

 It's time again for a new WEP challenge! And the subject is 'Gardens'!


Our next
challenge is a great opportunity for photographers, but also for writers attempting to describe the most beautiful gardens ever seen. Like the Spectacular Settings challenge, you'll get to use words to take your readers to a unique place.


For example nonfiction on 'The Best Gardens in the World', or historical--'The Hanging Gardens of Babylon', travel- 'The Lingering Garden at Suzhou' or something similar for travelers.





Also, as always our fictional pieces with a romantic/unromantic garden scene, or photographs of mind-blowing gardens to motivate people, etc.

These are examples of great gardens, but some of us have personal gardens that are just as beautiful. 




What will you choose as your inspiration? The garden you planted or a great garden from an exotic place.




Since the southern hemisphere is experiencing the winter months, why not a garden covered in snow.







Winter creates a new landscape, sometimes a beautiful fairyland, at times a mysterious one, and on other occasions a frightening one. 




Remember a garden is a garden is a garden no matter what month or season it is!


Happy writing!






Thanks to the creativity of Olga Godim, here are two badges for the Gardens Challenge.










Make your choice but please help us advertise the challenge. We've been silent for too long. Maybe folks have forgotten us. Help us remind them!
 Help us Celebrate February's Challenge!
We'd love if you'd Tweet one of these:

Does a lush garden inspire your creativity? A new writing challenge. @DeniseCCovey & @YolandaRenee join us http://yolandarenee.blogspot.com/2016/07/wep-gardens.html  #WEPFF

A Flash Fiction that inspires the gardener in you. Coming in August. Join us. @DeniseCCovey & @YolandaRenee  http://yolandarenee.blogspot.com/2016/07/wep-gardens.html  #WEPFF

A garden can inspire beauty, horror, or love. What does it inspire in you? @DeniseCCovey & @YolandaRenee  http://yolandarenee.blogspot.com/2016/07/wep-gardens.html   #WEPFF


Will you join us for a new challenge?
You choose the medium!
You choose the genre!
You choose the word count (1000 word maximum)!
You choose how the prompt inspires you!

We look forward to seeing your contribution!

If you could change anything about the WEP what would it be?







Also
is in need of some help
Please check out his blog for more information or
email him direct at
fatherdragon1@gmail.com