WEP Grave Mistake - Cleopatra's Curse

Photo by @rw.studios on Unsplash

Cleopatra’s Curse

Have you ever seen a beautiful young woman with a man that can only be described as ‘toadyish’? He’s at least twenty years older than her, potbelly, short, and mostly balding. She’s a towering model type: perfect body, perfect skin, just exquisite. You wonder, why, how, what?

Well, I’ll tell you. It’s all about the money. What else?

I married a very wealthy man—me, a girl raised in a trailer park who made a living as a waitress and dancer. People even referred to me as white trash, and yet, I made it to the top. And I mean the very top. Gold everywhere. Anything and everything I‘ve ever wanted and more, even acceptance. Now people want to know me, want to be invited to my parties. Hell, they clamor just to be in my presence or merely the same room.

My husband, as I said, is filthy rich, and yes, he bought me. But he also put a diamond ring on my hand and promised me that the world would bow at my feet. He kept his promise, and I’ve kept mine.

I take his abuse. It’s my only job. Make the man happy in the sack, anytime, anywhere, and anyway, he desires it. It was our agreement. I live in the lap of luxury and have people at my every command. Nothing I want is off-limits. I am fulfilled! I am rich, and his temper tantrums don’t last long, neither do the bruises.

You say why? I say, why not? Most of my life was hell: going to bed hungry, various uncles taking advantage at all ages. I was considered a whore before the age of thirteen. The few men I did learn to trust proved to be liars, but now I have a signed contract. Yep, got it on paper, all of it. And if he breaks any of the rules, he pays me a ten-million-dollar settlement.

It took a while, but I soon realized that most men are pigs. All they think about is getting the child, girl, or woman into their bed. And most will take advantage given just half a chance. And some will do it without any invitation or a so sorry immediately on their lips. Liars, users, rutting animals, the whole species!

So why shouldn’t I sell my soul for the best things in life? I couldn’t have gotten them any other way. This has worked for me for the last twenty years. But I will admit that I’m getting bored, and his violence comes much more often and without the usual financial reward. He’s been slipping but only to the point where he hasn’t broken the contract. I think it’s time to say sayonara!

We’re planning a Halloween cruise, so maybe the bastard will fall overboard and drown, leaving me a rich widow? All it will take is a little planning…

*****

Okay, so I figured the bastard wrong, the cheater. He’s not only broken our contract, but he’s also done me in. I can’t collect that cool ten million I was guaranteed because they don’t have lawyers on the bottom at the ocean, my new abode.

Hubby told the world that I fell overboard. Nice. But on Halloween night, the same night I planned his demise, he was a step ahead. I supposedly slipped on a wet deck during a masquerade party and went overboard in my beautiful designer Cleopatra costume, never to resurface again.

Dozens of men jumped into the ocean to find me but failed because, at that time, I was unconscious in the closet of our bedroom. When everyone finally retired, and the police reports were filed, my sweet, generous husband simply dumped me overboard with my feet solidly encased in cement. Yes, I was conscious, but my screams were muted by the gag in my mouth.

I cursed the bastard with each bubble that left my lungs as I tried my best to hold my breath. I did well until the cement my feet were encased in hit the sandy bottom, then in an instant, the air was replaced with seawater.

 

Exactly One Year Later

*****

Detective White carefully made his way into the Tower penthouse. The place was covered in water, sand, seaweed, dead fish, and seashells. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn the site was located on the bottom at the ocean.

“Well, Derek, what can you tell me?” Detective White asked the coroner as he stared down at the two bodies lying side by side in the king-size bed.

“They drowned. No doubt about it. But the why and how, your guess is as good as mine.”

“You sure it’s ocean water, doc? I mean, we’re in a high rise. The doorman said no deliveries were made today or this week. And he saw these two an hour ago, alive and well.”

“Positive. Their lungs are filled with seawater.” He pushed down on the man’s chest, and deep green water seeped out. “I’ve tested it. It’s seawater. Look at the fish, sand, and seaweed. Whoever crafted this murder wanted to make a statement.”

“Yeah, but did they leave any clues?”

“Just the remnants of lipstick on his face. It’s clearly not the same color this young lady is wearing. Maybe that unique color will tell you the dame that wanted this man dead.”

Detective White laughed as he moved to the chaise across the room. A sick sound that had the coroner looking at him oddly. “The only woman I can think of who’d want him dead drowned a year ago. His wife, remember, she went overboard during a Halloween party on his yacht last year. She was wearing a Cleopatra costume.” He held up the wet costume he found lying on the chaise. “I think she came back for a change of clothes and revenge…”

995 Words

Yolanda Renée © 2020

*****

***

Happy Halloween!

Halloween Fog

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

A Halloween Fog

I’ve seen all the ‘fog’ movies and watched gleefully as the victims paid for their audacity. Slashers, horrendous creatures, and hideous bugs have all hidden their evil in the murkiness of a foggy night. But that’s movie-making, the scarier, the better. In reality, a walk into the thick mist is super energizing.

It allows me to disappear, lurk, stalk, and yes, kill with delicious precision. I bet you thought I was going to talk about how I enjoy being swallowed by nature. How I become part of it and relish the experience. Well, that’s all true, but for me, it’s all about the victim.

After all, I know their fear. It’s the best part. My victim’s terror is what feeds me. I can smell it on them as they cautiously move past me, unaware and yet very aware that I’m there. As the smell of panic becomes more potent, I wonder why they come out? Is it a dare? Are they looking for a confrontation? It can’t be to prove their bravery. They exhibit none! Because no one accidentally wanders into the woods in the dark of night. Well, no one but me.

My favorite victim is the lone young woman. Although I do adore the young couples looking for a place to be alone. But tonight, I’ve hit the jackpot. A young woman is walking nonchalantly down the path. She’s not cautious or fearful, which takes a bit of the fun out the night. The bitch is on her phone and barely paying attention to the direction she’s taken. Still, she’s the perfect victim. Lost, stupid, and unaware. I can’t just let her pass. She’s mine. All mine!

I move ahead of her and get ready to pounce—my best blade at hand.

I jump in front of her, grab her with both arms, and say, “Excuse me. I didn’t see you there. The fog tonight is so thick.” Then I give her my best laugh and wait for her to realize her fate.

She rolls her eyes. “I know,” she says. It was specifically prepared for the night. My people know the perfect thickness for a Halloween cover. It’s the best way to catch predators. Like you.”

Her smile shows perfect white teeth, a lot of jagged, and terrifyingly sharp teeth. I try to shake off my shock at her response. “What?” I mumble, caught totally off guard by her words and that mouth—those teeth.

But she only smiles. “What number am I? The tenth, isn’t it?”

“You…you know me?’

“We keep track. Thought the police would take you off the street, but the cops haven’t, so we have to.”

“You? Who are you?” My knife slips from my overly moist hand.

“Your worst enemy, my dear.” Her laugh stuns, and her teeth continue to grow. Before my eyes, her body morphs into the most hideous creature I’ve ever seen.

This monster was a mixture of dark colors, red, black, purple, and flowing with green blood coursing through transparent veins. She had arms everywhere, long, powerful legs and now stood at least ten feet tall—her mouth. Oh god, that mouth and those sharp, hideous teeth that dripped with putrid saliva caused my stomach to lurch in revolt. She wrapped her arms around me, and, in a flash, we were in the middle of the forest.

Within minutes I was stripped of all clothes. My hands were tied behind my back with twine, and with a grubby potato stuffed into my mouth, her even uglier friends gingerly lowered me into a large pot of cold water. She dropped in cups full of salt, pepper, cayenne, and several bay leaves.

“Dinner will be ready in about two hours,” she announced as she lighted a fire under the pot I was in. “We want this one to simmer awhile. I like my soup thick,” she told the crowd around her as two other monsters added several large pots of navy beans.

The crowd shouted their appreciation. I watched, dumbfounded, as the monsters settled down on the grass to continue their games and conversations. I noticed that the fog had separated. It circled the area and provided a dome of protection. What I once relished as protection had betrayed me. A higher evil had assumed power.

Fear the fog! Don’t venture down an unknown or even known path on a profoundly thick night, and especially on Halloween.

Listen to what I tell you. I know, I should have heeded my own words. Remember when I said that no one accidentally wanders into the fog on a dark and lonely night, especially on Halloween! What I thought was a beautiful, young girl proves my word.

Yes, I know it’s all too funny. Especially as these are the words of a serial killer. But if folks like me don’t get you—maybe these hungry creatures will!

835 Words

 Yolanda Renée (C) 2020

*****

Join us for the WEP October Challenge

Grave Mistake

Happy Halloween!

A Haunting Challenge

Photo by Daniel Jensen on Unsplash

A Haunting Challenge

It's Halloween, the one night I roam the Earth. It was my decision to leave this world. I was sure it would solve all my problems. I was wrong. Regardless, one fateful Halloween night, I walked into the ocean. Now I rise at 12:01 a.m. and return at 11:59 p.m. every year on that same day, Halloween.

I pray for the day my soul will finally be released, the day my problems will indeed be solved, but that can only happen after I pay penance for my error.

You see, suicide is wrong. It goes against all the laws of man and God. I knew this but didn't fully believe it. So yes, I committed the ultimate sin.

Given two options, hellfire for eternity or heaven, I chose forgiveness even though I knew a penance was due.

The devil would gladly accept my soul, he's told me so, but I want to prove that I'm worthy of God's grace, and the only way I can achieve that is to keep one hundred other people from doing the deed I accomplished. Since I died on Halloween night, it's the only night I can return to Earth to save like-minded souls.

Not an easy task as I am the way death has left me. Getting folks to accept a bloated corpse, dripping with seaweed, sand, and saltwater is not an easy task even on Halloween. My skin is gray-green, and I have open wounds caused by hungry sea creatures. With hanging flesh, dripping hair, and blackened eyes along with hesitant movements as I try to remember how to walk on land vs. floating in the dark void of the sea, I frighten more than impress.

My only salvation is that most of the world is also in costume. I get numerous compliments, mostly from drunken partiers, but finding a suicidal person willing to listen to my message is nearly impossible. I've been haunting Halloween night for over seventy-five years, and I've only saved thirty people. Not surprisingly, at first, I drove just as many to madness or death. Until I learned a method to the madness that worked.

Of late, I've heard through the rumor mill that I may get amnesty if I continue to do my best and complete a hundred years of service to the cause, but I've also heard rumors of an even longer punishment.

The task is challenging, but I haunt on as I have a goal to achieve because the sea's moist, icy darkness is much more palatable than Hell's arid burning brightness!

Please, my dear sad and lost souls, consider your quest. Your penance may be much more challenging and way longer than mine.

463 words

Yolanda Renee © 2020

****

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from the WEP

Write...Edit...Publish.

Grave Mistake

Happy Halloween!

Sweet Revenge - A Halloween Challenge

It's Time!

A   Blue Moon  on
Halloween
What could be better?

 October 31, 2020, at 12:49 AM.

Are you ready?

To help inspire you, 

Here is the last installment of 
Blood Moon.
It's title

Sweet Revenge

Enjoy!

If you missed the first three excerpts just click the link:
Romance & Death
Hunted
Masked

Photo by Arisa Chattasa on Unsplash

Sweet Revenge

         It took me several years to learn the secret of the mountain. Each anniversary of my death, I would get to relive the horror of that night. It took a while, but I learned that if I quit fighting the forest, I could separate myself from the event. 
          The next time Kyle brought his fun to the mountain on a Halloween, I was ready. 
           Do you see him? His bones are bleaching in the sun. He came back to me, and revenge was ever so sweet.

         The young girl he brought with him was led safely to the main road by the forest. Help came for her in the form of a couple returning home from a Halloween party. She is safe and now sharing her tale of horror with the authorities. Soon they'll be searching the woods for Kyle and his victims. They'll find most of them, and they'll find me, but Kyle is here to stay. He's mine—a plaything to help me while away the years.

           I tortured, killed, and thoroughly relished his screams. I told you revenge is sweet, and the music of it even sweeter!

         The forest, my new friend, cooperated fully. The brambles stripped him of his clothes, and using their sharp thorns, they ripped the skin from his body. His howls were a melody like no other. All the animals joined in, and I danced to the macabre tune.

         Tree roots pulled his limbs from his body, slowly, but deliberately. His shrieks were a crescendo that I still hear echoing in the loneliest hours of the night.

         Rocks and boulders covered him. Using their weight, they crushed the life out of him, slowly. His last breath was like a caress, sweet, warm—orgasmic. Heavenly.

         Before he died, I plucked his eye out and stuffed it down his throat. I left him one eye, so he could watch me dance on his grave. I did to him all that he did to me and more. The pain he experienced, the terror he felt, is like having life returned. The memory of it I relive each night. I dance in the moonlight and relish the peace of the wind in the trees. 
          My trees—my mountain—my home!

         Beware, dear friend, for if you visit my new abode with evil in mind, we'll be waiting. The forest and I have honed our skills.

The end 

or is it?

Are you ready for the challenge now?

Read the other installments of Blood Moon here

Romance & Death

Hunted

Masked

Sweet Revenge

Have I enticed you?

Is your writing muse tingling?

Then join the WEP in October for

the Halloween Challenge!

A Grave Mistake, you ask?

Well, what in the hell is that?

Well, dear friend

It’s the next WEP task.

And believe me

there’s many away

Where errors take sway

Where ghosts and ghoulies will play

and many unorthodox ideas

 rue the day.

So, get out your pens and pads.

We’ve given you

A dare for your best scare

Because Halloween is for all

And who knows?

You may take

first prize for your Grave Mistake!

Write...Edit...Publish

Masked - A Halloween Challenge

It's Time!

A beautiful  Blue Moon  on
Halloween!
 October 31, 2020, at 12:49 AM.

Are you ready?

To help inspire you, 

Here is the third installment of Blood Moon.
It's title

Masked 

Enjoy!

If you missed the first two excerpts just click the link:
Romance & Death
Hunted

Photo by Luke Southern on Unsplash

Masked 

The monster that took me wore his mask well. His deep blue eyes sparkled when he laughed. His smile was captivating and felt sincere. The dimple on his right cheek was so endearing; I even saw it on the child I imagined we'd someday have. And his physique—swoon-worthy. When he held me in his arms, I felt safe. I trusted his strength to protect me, and I imagined our lovemaking would be indescribable.

          Remember, we'd only dated a few times. Tonight was going to be the night. It was already planned, but that was before I knew I'd be fighting the devil for my life.

          And I did fight. A lot of good it did me. He won. In the end, don't they always. After all, a successful serial killer plans his task well. His victim—she never has a chance.

          But I tried, and I did leave my mark. You can still see it today, but I'm sure all the girls tell him his jagged scar just makes him look more rugged. His blood and skin under my nails would never do me any good though because I never told a soul about Kyle. I never told anyone where we were going. No one even knew I was missing until a week had passed. It wasn't until months later that a tourist found my camera near the road and gave it to the police. My prize-winning picture of the Blood Moon was identified as mine because of the selfie I took. It was my last photograph and the one my parents value most. Even now, I kick myself for not taking it with Kyle, but he was camera shy. Of course he was—the bastard!

          It was a full two years later that a hunter discovered my skull and a few gnawed bones. Dental records finally identified me.

          Kyle is still at it, and if he comes back to his cabin in the woods, I'll be waiting. I'll be ready because now I've won the forest to my side and his time has come.

To be continued…

Join me next week when

I’ll publish the final installment of 
Blood Moon! 
Titled

Sweet Revenge

Have I enticed you?

Is your writing muse tingling?

Then join the WEP in October for

the Halloween Challenge!

A Grave Mistake, you ask?

Well, what in the hell is that?

Well, dear friend

It’s the next WEP task.

And believe me

there’s many away

Where errors take sway

Where ghosts and ghoulies will play

and many unorthodox ideas

 rue the day.

So, get out your pens and pads.

We’ve given you

A dare for your best scare

Because Halloween is for all

And who knows?

You may take

first prize for your Grave Mistake!

Write...Edit...Publish

Hunted - A Halloween Challenge

It's Time!

A Blue Moon will occur on
Halloween!
 October 31, 2020, at 12:49 AM.

Are you ready?

To help inspire you, 

Here is the second installment of my short story
Blood Moon.
It's title

Hunted

Enjoy!

If you missed the first installment 
just click HERE!

Photo by Vladimir Agafonkin on Unsplash

Hunted

I knew you'd be back. No one wants to miss out on the details of my death. After all, it's almost time for Halloween. And the gorier, the better, isn't that it? That's fine. I understand. Because this couldn't possibly happen to you. You'd have been smarter, more aware, less trusting. Yeah, I'll bet.

     So okay, you're curious. You want to know how a girl like me ended up on a mountain top surrounded by nothing but the darkness and trees. Thousands of silent trees, watching and waiting. They knew where the demon hunting me was located, but they refused to tell me. I could hear them whispering, laughing, even making bets on how and when he would catch me.

     Evil. The night was filled with it. I'm just not sure if he brought the malevolence or if it already existed, and he just learned how to harness it, but it's my goal to find out. I have the time…all the time in the world!

     But back to the hunt. Naked and with my hands still tied behind my back, he unchained me from his bed. His laughter reverberated as he calmly stood there sharpening his knife.

     "Run," he said. "See how far you get before I find you and demonstrate just how loving I can be." He licked the length of his knife and smiled. "Go. I always give them one last chance." Then he turned away, and I took off.

     I ran straight into the darkness and was enveloped into a pit of horror. The brambles tore at my skin, ripped tiny holes that seeped with blood and burned like fire. Even the ground betrayed me. The dead leaves and brittle branches crunched and snapped, breaking the silence and gave away my location. But the worst was the tiny stones that tore holes in the bottoms of my soft feet and left bloody footprints my pursuer could smell. Because obviously, the monster caught me. Of course, he was familiar with the area, but with the help of the forest, how could he fail? The creep grew up here. The bastard had honed his murderous craft in these woods.

     My monster loved the hunt, relished the capture, but he cherished the kill.

To be continued…

Join me next week when

I’ll publish the third installment of Blood Moon!

Titled

Masked

Have I enticed you?

Is your writing muse tingling?

Then join the WEP in October for

the Halloween Challenge!

A Grave Mistake, you ask?

Well, what in the hell is that?

Well, dear friend

It’s the next WEP task.

And believe me

there’s many away

Where errors take sway

Where ghosts and ghoulies will play

and many unorthodox ideas

 rue the day.

So, get out your pens and pads.

We’ve given you

A dare for your best scare

Because Halloween is for all

And who knows?

You may take

first prize for your Grave Mistake!

Write...Edit...Publish

WEP - Antigue Vase - Best Intentions

Copyright

BEST INTENTIONS

Angela took the vase out of the package she’d just received in the post and cursed. “All I wanted was the necklace. Instead, all I get is a stupid vase!”

“Quit bellyaching. Nana didn’t have to leave you anything. All you did was clean her house. Velda was her daughter. Of course, Nana’s going to leave her jewelry to family.”

“I know, but Velda doesn’t deserve it. I did more for her mother than she ever did. I just don’t understand. Nana told me that one day I’d be rich. Then she’d wink. You just wait, she’d say. You just wait.” Angela sighed. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, maybe someday you will be rich. Nana was the poorest woman on the block. Despite all those rumors. All poor Velda got was her jewelry and a measly $5000, life insurance payment. From what I was told, she had to use that to cover the funeral costs.”

“Yeah, but that necklace has to be worth something.”

“I heard it’s cubic zirconia, worth maybe a couple hundred.”

Angela sighed. “Oh well at least I have something to remember Nana by.” She picked up the vase and examined it. “Nana doted over the silly thing, reminding me every day to dust it ever so carefully. She refused to put flowers in it.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Betty asked.

“Last month, I sent a letter to one of those antique houses in New York. I sent pictures of all the sides, including the bottom, and I was hoping they’d write back and tell me it’s worth a mint. But instead, I think they just had a good laugh. So, I’ll keep it here on the bookshelf with Nana’s picture."

Betty picked it up and shook it. "What’s inside? It sounds like there’s something in there.”

“Nana said it was a love letter from her husband. The one and the only letter he wrote to her before he was killed in the war. That’s why she wouldn’t allow water for flowers.”

“How sweet. You want to get some tweezers and see if we can’t fish it out?”

“No. I find it kind of romantic. I even shoved a picture of both Nana and Harry inside. Now they’ll always be together.”

Angela put the vase on the top shelf. “As ugly as it is, it still means something." She checked her hair in the mirror. "Damn, now I wish I hadn’t agreed to that double shift tonight.”

“Better get going. Maybe some guy will give you a million-dollar tip?” She laughed and swatted Angela's butt when she walked by. “Go get em, sis!”

A week later, Angela burst through the door of her room to find her sister poking something metal into the vase. “What in the world are you doing?”

Betty jumped and dropped the vase to the floor. It shattered, but amongst the debris were dozens of folded pieces of paper.

“No!” Angela screamed, falling to her knees.

“It’s okay, Angela. Look,” Betty said as she unfolded the bills. They’re hundreds. Must be $3,000 here. Can you believe it? $3,000! Good riddance old vase, you're rich!”

Angela sank deeper into herself. White as a sheet, she groaned. “How?”

“Sorry, sis. I just had to read Nana's letter. I had a dream about it last night. So I thought I’d fish it out. I didn’t mean to drop the damn thing. But sis, $3,000! You’d never have known it was there!”

Angela handed Betty the letter she’d been holding then put her head in her hands and started sobbing.

Betty took the letter and read it. “Dear Ms. Finney: Your lovely vase bears the mark of the Qianlong Emperor who ruled from 1736 to 1796. We’d have to see the vase in person to make sure it isn’t a replica, but the colors and the appearance have all of us excited."

Betty swallowed, "If you’re interested in placing it in an auction…” Betty’s voice trailed off as the tears began to fall, but she continued in a whisper, “And if it’s original, it could be worth millions.”

“Holy shit!” She threw her arms around her sister. “Forgive me…”

 ***

My inspiration for this story.

18^th Century Vase Sells for 19 Million

700 Words

Yolanda Renée © 2020

***

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