DEFENDING THE PEN It’s all about murder . . . romance – writing it! I post flash fiction, book announcements, interviews, and the things I love. Careful . . . you may end up the victim . . . of fun!
when the room closes
in
and the heart beats
too quickly
when confusion reigns
and answers just aren't
there
when fear overwhelms
and doubts creep in
when quitting seems
the only
alternative
I walk in the sunshine
I lift my eyes to the
heavens
I pray – eyes wide
open
silently to God above
when I return home
my head has cleared
my doubts disappeared
Yolanda Renée (C) 2020
Nevaeh stared into the
abyss. Between the sheer marble and
granite walls, lava flowed with the blinding brilliance of the sun. Pops of
flame exploded in whirlpools of unfathomable appetite. The heat kissed her obsidian
skin with desire.
She stared at the magma, a
death that assured no resurrection. Was this a choice she could make? Death or
an eternity in Hell with a mad man?
*****
Recuperating from her recent
escape attempt, Nevaeh curled up on the furs in front of a fire. Voices outside
her prison hut alerted her to visitors. Without looking, she knew Ohin had
entered the room. The atmosphere felt heavy, airless. She sat up but still
faced the fire.
"Feeling better?" Ohin
asked with faux concern.
Despite forehand knowledge, Nevaeh's
heart jumped in her chest. Her body stiffened at the sound of his caustic voice. The warmth radiating from the
fire turned to waves of ice that girdled her bones and captured her heart in a glacial chill.
"Adom will never know that
I was behind your kidnapping. Be careful, or you'll be the cause of his
death." Ohin warned as he stepped closer and knelt beside her.
He reached out to touch her
cheek. "Tell me why? I look just like Adom. We are twins. Why not
me?"
Nevaeh pulled away in
disgust. "I did not fall for Adom's looks. I fell for his heart. Something
you do not possess."
Ohin growled like an animal,
stood, and pounded his staff on the mud floor. "I am rich, powerful, more
so than Adom. You will see, my Queen, power is more important than heart!"
"I prefer an eternity
in Hell to a minute with you. I will never be your wife. Force me and meet your
death!" Her words held power, but her petite frame and lack of weapons
instilled no fear.
Ohin stepped back but waved
off her threat. "At one time, you had a choice, my lady. Be mine or cross
the Atlantic in chains. But now I make the choice for you."
"Your threats do not
frighten me. Adom is no fool. He will uncover you're evil. Instead of
destroying the slave traders, you are their chief caboceer. You are a traitor
to your own people."
Ohin laughed. "You're
so wrong, Nevaeh. I am a King, and I will have you." As he spoke, a
stranger joined them. "Meet, Dr. Zheng. He has a way to make even the dead
live. And he's brought proof."
The sound of a clattering
chain intensified the cold and tightened her gut into a knot. Was he planning
to chain her to her prison? Nevaeh jumped to her feet. She moved closer to the
fire but gauged her chance for escape. Her illness caused her to sway, but she
fought the weakness.
"Don't test me, Nevaeh.
You'll marry me. You'll even love me. If you doubt that, believe this."
Nothing in life had prepared
her for the vision before her. Screams formed in the deepest part of her, but
she held them inside as one hand covered her mouth and the other clenched. She
wanted to close her eyes but could not. An abomination of nature lumbered
toward her, and she had nowhere to go but Ohin's arms. Death was preferable.
The man she knew as Goren,
her kidnapper, the same man she had witnessed being fed to wild dogs, slowly
moved into the light. His death was a truth she could not doubt because she'd seen the horror. Yet he stood before her, held
on a chain by two large men.
He barely had clothes or skin but moved forward on his own two feet. The
skin that remained hung loose where the ravenous beasts had ripped him open with their
teeth. Muscle hung in purple shreds, and broken bones protruded in ugly bloody
angles. The smell of death wafted off him like a putrid fog. A dead man lived.
Ohin's next statement pierced
Nevaeh like a spear through the heart.
"I will have you—even
in death. You will be mine always. Adom is busy with the war. He'll understand
your choice and move on. He has an entire kingdom of princesses to choose from."
The proof of his words
stood, decomposing before her. Goren's eyes held her gaze, golden brown, rimmed
in red, and clouded by tears. His eyes pleaded with her because his mouth and
his throat were missing. The horrendously
deformed, half-consumed body understood, knew his condition. Goren was fully
aware of his own miscreation.
Nevaeh saw the horror of her
future.
Ohin smiled. "The
doctor is a genius."
Ohin had underestimated Nevaeh's
strength and the loyalty of his undead pet. Goren turned his anger toward his
master and attacked Ohin.
In the melee, Nevaeh bolted.
She made it through the mountain tunnel and once again stood above the Gulf of
Fire. Her pursuer not long behind. Ohin held the scars of Goren's attack, but Dr.
Zheng held the head of Goren.
Goren still had life in his
eyes. Even dismemberment was no cure for the doctor's faux life.
Nevaeh made her choice.
Ohin approached and
bellowed, "There's nowhere to go, my Queen. Accept your fate."
Nevaeh, unafraid, faced him.
Ohin's minions, her people,
stood behind him. She saw fear in their eyes as they watched and waited for her
surrender.
"Hear me, my people—revolt
against this evil. Your numbers alone will defeat him. Death may be your fate,
but there is honor in death when evil also dies. You have a choice!"
Her heels teetered on the
edge of the precipice.
"Come Nevaeh, I've no
more patience."
She smiled. "My destiny.
My choice. FREEDOM!"
Nevaeh felt the arms of
angels catch her as the fires of Hell opened to swallow her.
Ohin screamed as Nevaeh
disappeared into the abyss. The crowd behind him, hearing her words, seeing her
sacrifice, pushed forward to the edge.
The volcano bellowed its
acceptance of the evil surrendered, and an entire nation celebrated freedom.
~~**~~
1000 Words
Yolanda Renée © 2021
https://www.thoughtco.com/african-slavery-101-44535
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slavery_in_Africa
The
Door of No Return in Ouidah.
Memorial
to the slave trade through the port of Ouidah.
xxx
Photo by Fabrizio Verrecchia on Unsplash
Your Kiss
A connection unbreakable
enveloped in desire
abandonment
lips meet
complete surrender
home finally, home
Oh, that kiss
And everyone after
words can never describe
memories will never subside
a want seeking fulfillment
a place only lovers know
That kiss
stole my soul
imprisoned my heart
fulfilled every fantasy
more
please, more
That kiss
surpassed all dreams
nourished every wish
but time plays a cruel game
distance more harsh
still memories recall
That kiss
even today, years beyond
it's
that kiss
that I desire
and my heart requires.
Copyright 2021 Yolanda Renée
*****
I plant hundreds of bulbs in the fall
anticipating colorful blooms next spring,
such a delight.
But under my nose in the dark of night
pesky squirrels dig and dig until they have
taken them all.
I wait with anticipation but to my horror
in early April, then May, no blooms appear.
This mystery has to wait
for it's a garden, I must create.
I buy half-grown bushes, with flowers already
popping.
This time I watch, as the deer, rabbit,
groundhog,
and squirrels continue their robbing.
My garden is once again, bloomless.
As the mystery's answers unashamedly appear.
I curse those pesky invaders as I watch them
cavort.
They play, and they hop, but their murdering
essence I must stop.
After hours of research, new plants are bought.
A new garden planted
All in an effort to stop the evil wrought.
My garden is lovely
with flowers and shrubbery
in all their beautiful glory
a fitting end for this sordid tale
of creatures who love to forage.
Copyright 2020 Yolanda Renée
What is there to say but good riddance 2020
Living through these last 12 months and for many, the previous 4
years, was a never-ending horror show
But things are changing not just the year but the evil
that haunted it
A man with unlimited power and a virus with an unmasked goal
Prayers seemed to have gone unanswered
But the truth be known, we brought this on ourselves
There is no one else to blame
May we truly take stock and change our ways
For ignorance, selfishness, and hubris are sins, not
values, for which we must all pay.
Happy New Year
2021
Photo by Rodrigo Rodriguez on Unsplash
UNMASKED!
It’s Masquerade
Time to find your disguise
a costume and mask
for we’re all on parade
better be wise.
Make your decision judiciously
or your deepest secret will
show through.
On New Year's Eve
the truth is visible
and oh, so clear.
If it’s deviousness
horror or evil you profess
it’ll be obvious
to those dead and most dear.
So cover yourself strategically
or give yourself away.
Just remember that ghosts of the murdered departed
are also looking
to make their creators
pay!
Entertainment Tonight covered the entire story. From the day
they met to the day she was reported missing. Her grieving husband, an up and
coming movie producer, shed tears for the camera. The search for the young
actress he’d taken for a wife went on for weeks, months, and years, but no
clue, no corpse, no answer.
Ten years later, during the Emmy ceremony, Donavon Fagen,
movie producer, celebrated with close friends, and for a moment, he thought he
caught a glimpse of her. Yet, he knew better. She was dead. Fagen pushed his
thoughts of her aside and ordered another drink.
Alone at night, her whispers woke him.
“I’ve searched and searched the Earth for you. You, who took
my soul for your own. You, the demon who stole my innocence and brutally took
my life. You left me in the desert with all the others.”
Donavon switched on the light, walked to his patio door, and
stared out over the desert. Why was she haunting him now?
The next morning, he saw her reflection in his bathroom
mirror. On the movie set, he spotted her in the crowd of extras. He began to
drink earlier and earlier every day.
Her whispers became more graphic.
“Their skin shrivels in the scorching sun. Yet mine is still soft
and supple. Their eyes were plucked out by the buzzards, and their innards were
devoured by numerous beasts, but I am whole. Perfect in my grave of graves.
Their bones were bleached, scattered, and sandblasted, but the evidence of your
wrath remains. Spirits all, and how they hate you, my love.”
Donavon began to sleep with the lights on, but the daily
visions occurred, as did the nightmares.
The night of the Hollywood Masquerade he wore the costume of
the Marquis de Sade during a dance with a beautifully dressed La Senorita
Spanish Flamenco Dancer. While dancing a slow dance she pulled him close and whispered
in his ear, “Giving me repose in my own special grave does not lessen my
heart’s desire. Revenge is my guaranteed destiny. I’ve wandered for years in
search of you, my creator. Your evil is written on my bones. I’ll never forget your
true essence. Those dark eyes, an abyss. Black holes with no light or
reflection. Those sharp, pearl white teeth dripping blood after each searing
kiss. I remember how your flesh showed years of decay, and how your claw-like
hands burned my skin as you stole the last breath in my lungs. You’ve covered
your evil well, but now I’ve found you, marked you. Unmasked on the night of a Masquerade,
I alone see true.”
He tried to pull away, but she held him tight, and then suddenly,
she was gone like a wisp of smoke. Several glasses of whisky couldn’t stop the
tremors as he searched the room, but she was nowhere in sight. He sighed in
relief.
A friend drove him home and finally with more whisky and a
sleeping pill, he wiped away all the ghosts, but even unconsciousness couldn’t
stop the whispers.
“I alone know your darkest secret. Killing the virtuous allows
your survival on the Earthly plane. Stealing my love guaranteed your existence.
And I, a naive bride, was blinded by what I thought was love and devotion. But
my dear, soon the world will know the truth.”
Donavon, wide awake now, got out of his bed and opened the
patio doors, but it wasn’t a cool breeze that greeted him. She
stood before him, just as he’d last seen her.
“Join us,
dear husband. We’ve come to claim our right.”
He screamed.
Then screamed
some more,
but to no
avail
as each of
his victims
took back
what he stole
until
finally, she kissed him
and took his all.
*****
January 2nd
Detective Grant arrived on the scene shortly after the
discovery. “What do you have, Officer?”
“Donovan Fagen, movie producer. The coroner says heart
attack, but if you ask me, that expression on his face says the man died from
pure terror.”
“How?”
“My guess, all his victims. Look around, the place is a bone
field.”
“And the girl, who is she?”
“His former wife. The young actress that disappeared ten
years ago. Why he chose to uncover her grave, we’ll never know. But she’s well
preserved.”
“Lots of killers enjoy visiting the graves of their victims,”
Detective Grant said.
“His undoing this time. His other victims are scattered.
It’ll take a while to figure out how many, but he’s been killing for a very,
very long time.”
“Fools, so many fools,” a young girl spoke, but none stood in attendance.
They all heard the voice, then the sound of a young woman’s
giggle, but the only people on-site were the officers removing the bodies.
A whoosh and the hot, desert breeze lifted the sand and
swirled it in dust devil form that danced across the desert before all grew
quiet again.
The Detective felt the hair on his body stand on end. “Maybe
you’re right this time, Sergeant. Maybe this serial killer found that the
spirits of the dead don’t lie quietly on New Year's Eve. I’d say justice has
been done.”
960 Words
Yolanda Renée © 2020
