tears of ink

The library demon tends to books unwanted, abandoned, stolen and cursed. Books that weep their sorrows in tears of black ink. They sit neatly lined on black painted shelves darkly lit library. She lends her books with a smile, but she will keep your soul on hold. And if you steal you may find yourself weeping ink on a shelf.

The library demon dresses in newspaper and lace, with shining buttons onyx black and heart’s blood red. She never eats. She drinks only inky tears. She dreams nightmares in black and white. A forest of words and leaves of paper.

chimera drabble prompt: leaves

something that has beens wirling about my brain. I used part of this for one of my doll stories on my meridianaril blog but I have tears of ink stuck in my head still so may twist it into something else again.

green moon

I woke in the shadows curled beneath the arms of an oak tree. The earth smelled of dead leaves and copper. Naked I stumbled, frozen grass splintering beneath bare feet. The moon hung low, a sickly green orb smiling down on night. I crouched at the edge of the water, surface still as glass. I reached out for the moon’s watery reflection and saw my own pale face. Darkness dripped from my mouth, trailing down my moon white skin. I licked my lips and tasted salt and copper. Blood is black in moonlight. A wolf howled. The wolf was me.

addiction

Adam walked back and forth, back and forth, like a caged and wounded beast. His hands trembled as he reached for the book. 'No....' a voice screeched, and he wasn't sure if it was his own or not. The book sat there, the cover hand stitched, the pages brittle, the ink faded. Adam turned his back on the book. 'No, no, no....you don't need it. You can live without it…for one day!' but the book sat there and it pulled and pulled at him. Adam twitched. He dragged trembling fingers through his long tangled hair. 'Just one more spell.'

written for the Chimera Writing Group Drabble Prompt: Addiction

O Death

The woman sat in the corner facing the door, the shining tips of her knitting needles flashing. Red wool wound about her fingers and she cast on and began to knit. The door opened and a man stood before her, clothes covered in dirt, and crusted old blood, yellow fangs splitting his mouth in a sinister grin. With preternatural speed the vampire pounced and the woman plunged her needles into his chest. The vampire’s pale hands clawing at the silver and oak needles piercing his cold dead heart.

“My name is Death and the end is here….” the woman smiled.


Music: O Death sung but Jen Titus for the Supernatural season 5 promo

chimera book and writing group drabble prompt: music

a house of chocolate

As far as witches go Belinda wasn’t great. Her sisters built a gingerbread house and a candy house, to lure plump young children Belinda found children far too greasy for her tastes. Belinda liked soap, perfume, was afraid of heights and never flew her broom but used it to keep a tidy cottage. .And when Belinda build a house of chocolate, only thing it attracted was housewives kept nibbling the gables and brickwork, and Belinda had the terrible habit of making friends with them instead of turning them to toads. . In short as a witch Belinda was a disgrace.Post Options

Trinity

“You can’t keep doing this, its insane. Normal people just don’t go around murdering people for a living.” Cordelia said pointing at the guns spaced across the bed. “Eric talk to her she isn’t listening to me.” Cordelia glared at her brother leaning against the door.
“Its none of our business” Eric grit between clenched teeth.
“Its my job.” B said the black butterfly tattoo on her back stark against pale skin as she reached for a gun.
“Its mad!”
“We all do what we have to to survive. Death is a bitch.. and now we're all sons of bitches."

On July 16th 1945 Kenneth Bainbridge, leaned close to Robert Oppenheimer and said "Now we're all sons of bitches." immediately after the first atom bomb test explosion at Alamogordo, New Mexico’s Trinity Site.

Night

Grey wheat turned into a muddy ruin, the mud dragging me down with every step. I fell into black earth, the sack of food stuffs burst and sunk into the mood. I dragged myself up and gathered what tins and packets I could pull free of the black mud. The light was fading, clouds obscuring the orange ball of the setting sun at my back. I ran east across the field to the uncertain sanctuary of an abandoned farmhouse. Night, the mother of fear and mystery, was coming upon me. And with the dark came nightmare made flesh and bone.

Night, the mother of fear and mystery, was coming upon me. --HG Wells from the War of the Worlds

Chimera Writing group prompt: quote

Day and Night

Twin sisters were born on the Summer Solstice, one born in light the other born as darkness fell. As time passed the sisters grew. Day was earthly and fair with flaxen gold hair, a smile warm as sun, and eyes the colour of summer skies. Night was otherworldly and moonlight pale, her hair the colour of a raven’s wing, a smile hinting of magic and wickedness, and eyes that glinted black. At dusk, Night awoke, and the sisters ate honeyed cakes, drank tea from silver cups. Soon Day dreamed as Night sang with the wolves and danced in the moonlight.

Chimera Book and Writing Group Drabble Prompt: Day and Night