The Awakening: A Prologue

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He woke up in dark. At first he thought he was blind, but slowly he got used to the darkness and the tiny streak of light which came through the roof was enough for him to see his surroundings. He didn’t recognize anything. And suddenly, he realized he didn’t even know who he was.
He couldn’t remember his name. No memories of the past could be reached, no matter how hard he tried. He breathed in deeply.

Calm down.

He needed to start from smaller things. He got up from the bed. There was almost no furniture beside it, just an empty chair on the other side of the room. Was this how homes were supposed to look? Something told him it wasn’t, though he couldn’t picture any home at all.
The only source of light was coming from the roof. Was this some kind of a basement? The word just came to him, and it almost felt like a vague memory. Was it possible for him to climb up?
The roof wasn’t tall. He could easily reach it with his hands. He came to the source of light, and he realized it was a trapdoor. He pushed it, and it opened easily. So, he wasn’t some kind of a prisoner.
He took the chair, put it underneath the opening, and climbed out. No, he wasn’t a prisoner. He was being kept safe. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he was certain it was true.

Am I really safe?

He was now in another small room, but it wasn’t dark. The sun came in through the windows. He looked outside. He was surrounded by nothing but grass and trees. He was being kept safe. Far from everyone. No one should be able to find him.

But why?

This room was also almost entirely unfurnished. Just an old couch. But there was a door, and it led to the bathroom.

How did he remember that?

Yes, it was a bathroom. Small but clean. Obviously, someone came here. Watched over him. He could almost picture a face, but it was blurry. He looked at himself in the mirror. And then it came to him.
The blurry image was of a woman. He still couldn’t remember her name. But he remembered how he came here. And he knew he had to wait for a few minutes, and the rest will come as well.

He remembered the pain.
He remembered crawling here, and he remembered her, finding him.
He remembered the blue light.
He remembered how peaceful it felt.
And, finally, he remembered who he was.

He was the Lord of the Underground. And he came back to finish what he had once started.

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Do you remember those East and West stories of mine? Well, they never left my mind completely. I’m changing the concept and making them into a novel. Maybe… Anyway, this is where it all starts. 😉

Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

A Visitor

#MiracleChallenge : Week – 7

Challenge No : 4

Write a Story/ Poem using Prompt Theme – A VISITOR

Celestine was home alone, and she found it soothing. She filled a cup with coffee and made herself cosy, sitting sideways and lifting her legs over the curved arm of the sofa. She took a sip from the little cup and felt a cloud of peace envelop her. The tapping of the rain was the only sound that could be heard. This was exactly what she needed.

Suddenly, the door rang. It sounded like a scream, too loud in the soft quiet of the room.
Who could it be? Celestine’s husband was on a meeting and her sons had just recently left the house. There was no way they could be back so soon.
Celestine approached the door with caution. She didn’t know why, but she felt uneasy. Something wasn’t as it should be.

“Who is it?” she asked but no answer came.

Why did she give a day off to Bertha? Her kind servant would’ve made her less anxious, and she would be the one to open the door.

“Who is it?” Celestine asked again.

“Your old friend,” a male voice said, a voice she couldn’t quite place, but it evoked even more fear. Fear she couldn’t explain.

Celestine finally decided to open the door. She gasped. The first thing she saw were glowing, silver strands of hair. Though wet from the rain, they looked soft and beautiful. Celestine knew immediately who the man on her doorstep was, and she couldn’t believe it.

“You won’t invite me in?” the unexpected visitor said.

Celestine was too stupefied to do or say anything, and she didn’t stop the man when he walked through the door. He went straight to the living room and she, as if suddenly awakened, ran after him.

“Eric…” she spoke, his name the only word she could utter.

“My darling Celestine,” he faced her with a wide smile.

She could now see his face well, and she found it unchanged. How could that be? He looked just the same when she last saw him, and that was almost twenty years ago. She couldn’t find a single trace of aging. His face was the same as the day she put a bullet to his chest.

“How can this be?” she asked herself.

“You know I’m hard to kill,” he was still smiling.

“But you… You haven’t changed…”

“I come from where the magic is, dear Celestine. I told you so many times, magic exists and it is there for the taking, only if you dare to do it.”

“I don’t want to take part in anything like that!” fear was threatening to overcome her, but Celestine stood strong.

“I know that,” Eric’s smile became a smirk. “You’ve proven to be quite untrustworthy. I’m not here for you, anyway.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want my son.”

Celestine’s mind immediately produced a picture of her older son and his silver hair, the same as Eric’s. The son who never acted like a part of the family, who always searched for something else, something different. The son in whose eyes gleamed a dark spark of magic.

“What are you talking about?” it was best to act stupid, she decided.

“I know he’s mine. And you and your husband know that as well.”

“He’s not yours!” Celestine cried out.

“Well, consider yourself warned. He will learn the truth and you can do nothing to prevent it.”

He smiled again, and this time his smile was eerie. Evil.
Celestine didn’t even realize he left her house. She stood, petrified, unable to accept what had just happened. They fought magic and now it came to fight them back.

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Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

Miracle Challenge: Legs and Tails

#MiracleChallenge : Week – 6

Challenge No : 5

Write a Tiny Tale /Poem/ Haiku using below prompt image in 5 or less sentences(for tale) and 5 or less lines(for poem)

Mermaids wish for legs, girls wish for tails. Everybody wants what they cannot have. But sometimes, just sometimes, the unthinkable comes true.

Sadly, truth is not a fairy tale, others don’t live their lives as it seems. Mermaids learn soon that princes can be mean, and girls drown, grasping for air, realizing it’s too hard to always swim, and swim.

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So, this is my first time participating in the #MiracleChallenge, and I hope I did it right. XD It was certainly fun, loved the prompt image. 🙂

The Full Moon

Past comes
When the night is dark
Little memories
You thought you forgot.

Dreams avoid you
Moonlight’s scarce
By your side
Lie shards of past.

But one night
Your window will show
Full moon shining
In full moon glow.

A change indeed
Comes from inside
Strength of wolves
And night vision eyes.

A new you
Now can shine
Moonlit shadows of the past
Disappear in the light.

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Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

Puss in Boots

No one takes notice
Of one little kitty
Easy to trick you
Oh, what a pitty!

I do what I want
I never obey
I can walk upright
Now what do you say?

The littlest things
Have the power of will
I don’t play with yarn
I dress to kill.

In boots I walk
To make you see
That you should never
Make fun of me.

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A silly little poem today, it was so fun to write. XD 

Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

Quote for Thought: Bicycle

“To ride a bicycle is in itself some protection against superstitious fears, since the bicycle is the product of pure reason applied to motion. Geometry at the service of man! Give me two spheres and a straight line and I will show you how far I can take them.”

Angela Carter, “The Lady of the House of Love” from The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories

A random little quote I wanted to sheare with you. I’ve recently read Angela Carter’s short story collection, The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories, and I’m amazed by her writing. It’s brilliant. Her stories are dark, I’d even use the word disturbing, and each of them takes fairy tale imagery and makes something completely new out of it. For some reason, this quote stuck with me, even though there are so many wonderful ones. Maybe because it speaks of something mundane, almost random and not connected to fairy tales at all, but it’s still great. And it works great within the story, which I highly recommend. 🙂

The Ice Queen

I have nothing against princesses,
I like the sound of crackling fire,
and I’m very fond of cats,
but it doesn’t mean I don’t see
when injustice is being served.

Why are wolves always hunted
yet you forgive your cats
for killing birds and little mice
and bringing them as gifts?
Why is ice considered cruel
when fire can hurt as well?
Why are queens always evil
and princesses you root for?

I write my own fairy tale,
and I create a powerful queen
a woman needs not be weak
nor act sweet and for rescue wait
if she wants to be a heroine.

So I bestow on her a gift of ice,
ice-cold eyes, a power to create,
she will freeze you if you dare
in a tower lock her up,
she will make you disappear
before your wicked curse is uttered.

A magic mirror in her possession,
but who’s the fairest she doesn’t ask,
she uses it to uncover lies,
to see where’s a need to fight,
defend herself and all she loves,
a crown of ice on head held high.

She runs in the company of wolves,
with them she is always free,
she howls proudly at the moon
and hunts those who deserve it;
little girls that carry baskets
are not always what they seem,
sometimes a poisoned apple
and hidden thorns lie therein.

A queen, not a princess,
powerful and not naïve,
clever and not benign,
her touch so cold that it burns,
but that doesn’t mean she’s cruel.

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Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

It Would Come at Night…

It would come at night and steal children. It would sneak into our village and into our homes, no matter what we did to prevent it. Somehow, it would always find a way. We sent people to the woods, on a hunt, almost every night. Nothing was ever caught or even seen.

But in the end, every it turns out to be a human.

They dragged our neighbour, Mr Hal, out into the street. He was on the ground, on his knees, making a manic laughing noise. My parents didn’t want to tell me what had happened, but I knew what all the blood meant. His hands were dark red, and they dripped on his clothes. His mouth was red, too. He was it. They caught him. They didn’t let us children enter his home, but I was disgusted nonetheless. I couldn’t help but imagine it all, his teeth tearing apart the body of Mrs Alanna’s baby, and many babies before. A cannibal among us. A baby-eater.

“Where are the bodies of other children?” a man screamed at Mr Hal.

“How did you get into our homes?” another shouted.

They wanted answers. Without them, they felt even more wounded, helpless. Could one of us really be the monster we feared?  Everyone was too disturbed to pay attention to me, so I managed to get closer. Mr Hal laughed at the questions, his eyes darkened by a glow of insanity. How was he able to trick us all, to hide his true face?

“Where are the remains of our children?” a woman cried.

For a moment, Mr Hal’s eyes cleared, his face turned pale.

“I don’t know,” he growled. “I only killed one!”

“You’re lying!” a man kicked him hard and Mr Hal fell to the ground.

The village justice was quick. One of the women who lost a child was the first to throw a stone. Another followed. Mr Hal laughed and laughed, until he stopped – forever.

The night came and we all went to our homes in silence. Nobody wanted to speak about what had happened. The monster was gone but we knew would not be able to sleep. I went to my room, got into the bed, but kept looking through the window. A dark feeling pressed my chest and didn’t let me fall asleep. I looked at the small hills through my window, at the trees and the woods. I looked until it seemed to me that I saw something there…

On top of a little hill, two creatures sat. The larger one smiled, and said:
“And that, my darling daughter, is how they stop hunting you.”

Heart-stabbing, Back-stabbing

You jabbed the knife straight through my heart. Heart – how convenient that is. You could’ve also stuck it to my back, the back-stabbing creature you are. To be fair, you were trying to save your life. Just as you did that night in the forest.

Come with me tonight, you said, I’ll embrace you underneath the moonlight and we will watch the starry sky. You can never see the stars in the city, it is only in the forest that magic happens.

You always knew how to choose the best words, how to persuade. And you did speak the truth. Magic did happen, but of a dark, twisted kind. That was when you stabbed my heart for the first time, the only time it really hurt. When the creatures came, you ran away. You saw me fall, but you didn’t stop. You just ran, saving your life, and giving mine to them.

But I came back. And now you scream, as you see that your stabbing cannot make me bleed anymore.

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Image courtesy of Pixabay.com