Death's Whisper

The door slammed shut, keys rattling in the lock. She was alone in the dark room, wrists bound behind her back with thin cable. Death whispered sweet words in her ears. She smiled grimly as she moved her wrists against the wire, drops of blood dripping to the white carpet. Death whispered on as she slipped her hands free, the torn flesh of her wrists burning. Heavy footsteps sound in the hall and she grabbed the only weapon to hand. The door swung open and she shoved a steel knitting needle into his throat. Death laughed as the monster died.



Chimera Writing Prompt: cable

Jungle

The plane crashed down into the jungle night, metal screaming and smoke pluming into the sky. Robert could feel each soul as it tore free of imprisoning flesh. The metal of the seatbelt dug into his gut fingers gripping tightly to the orange seat in front. The plane judder to a halt amid the trees, the silence after the crash was eerie, it sent a spike adrenalin down Robert’s spine as he unclipped his lap belt. “Hello?” he called but the plane was empty and the jungle was silent. 400 passengers and crew gone. Robert was alone in the darkness.

chimera prompt: jungle

The Black Gate

“Relax listen to the sound of my voice, I’m going to count down from three now.”
“Doctor….”
“Three…”
“I….”
“Two…One… Jane?”
“Yes.”
“What do you see?”
“A black iron gate.”
“Open the gate Jane”
“Its s-so c-cold here I can see my breath, there are shadows everywhere…I… someone‘s here.”
“You’re safe Jane. Who’s there?”
“I…I don‘t know..”
“Tell me who you see.”
“ …oh god...her eyes are black….oh god…it can‘t be…nooo!”
“I want you to wake now... Jane ….can you hear me?”
“I can hear you Doctor , but I’m not Jane.“
“Jane?“
“Poor Jane is dead.” The demon smiled.

Chimera Prompt: bottle

A green glass bottle sat on a rusted metal shelf, covered in dust and grime in the corner of a dusty room filled with the detritus of a forgotten time. Dust covered the bottle and its glass stopper. Its label peeling, faded and unreadable, and yet something dark lurked within the bottle’s blue green depths. Honeyed poison?
witch’s spell?
vampire’s blood?
The essence of evil?
the tears of an angel?
Plague?
life?
the whisper of death?
cry of despair?
A green glass bottle of time sitting lonely on a rusted shelf, all the potential hope and horror of Pandora’s gift.