Cherry

Title: Cherry
Author: Apryl
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean, Sam, Impala
Rating: PG
Warnings: vaguely Season 4, nothing spoilery
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: not mine, never mine, *is poor*
Notes: Sam is driving and Dean is asleep as they drive North on the I-5.



“Dean woke with a start, head pressed against the window, trail of drool running down his chin. A green sign flashes past in the headlights *”Welcome to Oregon we’ve got trees” Dean grimaces and tried to close his eyes again, but then he hears it.

It felt so wrong it felt so right

With dawning horror Dean turned to look at Sam in the driver’s seat, fingers tapping on the steering wheel singing along quietly.

“The taste of her cherry chap….”

“Dude ….seriously?!?” Dean growls.

“Er.. I”

“You’re such a girl Sammy.”

I kissed a girl and I …

click

Darling Buds

“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.”
“What?”
“It’s a line from a Shakespearian sonnet.”
“A bonnet?”
“No a sonnet, a poem by Shakespeare the Bard, the greatest writer in the history of the English Language.”
“Poetry is for losers.”
“Poetry is a form of literary art, it has heart , meaning, cultural significance..”
“Culture like them things they grow in the labs?”
“Culture as in society, humanity, people”
“Labs is where they make the viruses that’ll turn us all to zombies.”
“I don’t know why I try”
“Do ya think zombies write poetry? I’d read that.”
“Er…No.”

Chimera writing group prompt: bud

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

Calista

Calista danced back at the edge of the shadow creeping across the room, the line between light and dark. The day receded back as the shadows consumed the light. Calista stood in the narrowing band of sunlight, thinner and thinner. A noise began in the shadows, a whispering and skittering of claws on the wooden floor, getting closer and closer. Calista pressed her back against the cool iron bars of the window. No escape. Nowhere to run She could see them now, hideous misshapen creatures with grinning yellow fangs, shadow ghouls summoned from rotting despair. Calista screamed without a sound.

Chimera Book and Writing Group prompt: day and night

the Old Gods

Some think it was better before the war. The war started and ended in the span of a single day, not by nuclear power but by the might of gods , long absent in the minds of day traders, eco warriors and movie stars. The gods aren’t like Tinkerbelle, they didn’t disappear because we forgot to believe, they walked among us the whole time. Eros is a porn star, no surprise there, Athena masqueraded as Martha Stewart, Dionysus has a wineries in Napa, Gaia sells real estate in the valley. Not quite hell on earth, but Hades is a politician.

all that glitters

Melantha sat, dark eyes scanning the crowd of writing bodies on the dance floor. The club was dark, filled with black velvet, glittering chandeliers, silvered mirrors, and thrumming rock music. A grimace flickered across her pale face, as two sorority girls bounced up to the bar wearing matching Twilight t-shirts. Melantha stood, the glint of diamonds shining in the black lace of her dress. She slipped into the fervent crowd, letting the music flow through her, the smell of warm human flesh and blood sent a shiver down her spine. Melantha smiled hungrily, sharp teeth pressing into her bottom lip.



Chimera Writing group drabble prompt: rock

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.

Chimera Prompt Music

Kelly stared at her reflection in the cracked mirror, blonde hair pulled back in a tight pony tale, heart shaped face, with pink cupids bow lips, and large blue eye. A small spot of red rode high on her cheek as she critically assessed her perfect makeup. She rubbed the last spot away, steaming water fogged the mirror, as the last of the blood washed away. Kelly smiled a sweet smile that did not reach the pooling black depths of her cold blue eyes, as she stepped over the plastic wrapped body and adjusted the skirt of her cheerleader uniform.



* while listening to Seether and Stone Sour, and very inspired by Dexter Morgan

Lava (a Chimera writing prompt)

The goddess stood on the mountain, wrapped in night. She looked down upon the city of men far below. The stench and noise of humanity blew on the wind. The goddess frowned and waited as the moon rose high and bloated in the star strewn sky. The goddess waited but no sacrifice was made, she was forgotten. Her lips curved in a terrible smile, and she called fire from the heart of the earth. The mountain rumbled to life, smoke and ash billowed into the sky, molten lava poured down. The goddess laughed as the city burned. They would remember.

Broken

How cursed the dawn, the brilliant blinding light of day, heavy curtains lay open, moats of dust swirling in the cold morning light. On the floor in a pool of white lay a beautiful doll, one blue eye staring blind into the light, the other lost, hair a puddle of darkness, pale porcelain face cracked, skull broken, red lips parted in a soulless smile. Curled within shadow, a small girl sits, black eyes dripping pink tinged tears, sharp teeth biting ruby lips. Chubby fingers twitching at the edge of darkness, before reaching into burning light to twine in silken hair.

The Poison Apple Tree (part I)

The Poison Apple Tree

A Fairy Tale

by

Apryl Lowe

Part I

Everyone knows the tale of Snow White, the evil step-mother, the woodsman, the poison apple, and the prince. The Prince’s kiss awakened Snow White from her poisoned slumber, he defeated the queen and they all lived happily ever after. But where their story ends another begins, Snow White and the prince left the apple in the forest.

A poison apple made with bitter magic and touched by Snow White’s pure love. An apple with seeds, and as seeds are meant to grow one small black seed grew. The seed grew and grew into a tree with black limbs the colour of starless night, white blooms the colour of sun bleached bone, and crimson fruit.

The animals of the forest knew to stay away, but men have always had less sense than the creatures of the forest, men stole apples from the tree. But a tree that grew from a poison fruit can only bear the same. The hearts of trees are not as men, and in time the little apple tree sorrowed for the deaths of men, who’s bones lay beneath her black branches and poison fruit. A tree can sorrow even though a tree cannot cry.

In time men grew wise, they saw the sun bleached bones and left the tree alone on her hill. The apple tree grew lonely, and envious of the other trees in the forest, trees that bore nuts and fruit that were visited by humans, and animals. She wished each day to be different than she was.
One day a group of boys came whispering and kicking the bones near the tree, daring each other to touch the tree, throwing stones at the perfect apples hanging from black branches. One bold boy with dark curling hair, and silver blue eyes, dragged behind him silver axe. ,He raised it and swung it towards the tree. The axe cut deep into the wood, past the black bark and deep into the white flesh of the tree. And the tree bled crimson sap.

The boy shouted in triumph brandishing the axe in the air. As he did a single drop of crimson sap dripped from the, fell on his hand. The other children looked on in horror as the boy cried out and dropped the axe to the earth. The tree’s blood burned his hand and though he rubbed his hand on his tunic the sap remained. The boy cried and the other children scattered running home as fast as they could.

The tree looked on in sorrow, she had no comfort to give. She was a tree with poisoned fruit and a wound that bled, what comfort could a tree give. The boy curled on the moss covered ground, crying.. “I’m sorry. Please don‘t let me die.” he cried to the tree. The only reply was the laughter of leaves in the wind.

To be continued….

this is a piece of writing that is all me.. a part of my heart.. please be gentle and please remember it is mine. If you liked it please leave a comment.. I'm working on finishing the story and taking it from the scattered pieces in my head into written words, its a slow process.

razor

The man stood on the edge of the cliff watching the crashing waves. A smile curved the edge of his lips. Laughter burst forth, and his body shook with it, sending a cascade of pebbles tumbling down the cliff face. He stood on the razor’s edge between earth and sea, life and death. The man looked at the gold wedding band on his hand, slipped it off his finger and held it up to the sun, and let it fall from his grasp into the sea. The laughter died, but the smile remained as he turned and walked away.

Butterfly

A naked bulb swung back and forth, the shadow of butterflies across the room. Her left boot kicked the body on the dirt floor. “Where’s the girl?”

“I don’t know!”

“That’s not the answer I wanted.” She said retrieving the gun from the small of her back. “You have been a bad boy Bobby.” She aimed the gun at his head.

“Wait! Tommy’s got her!”

“Tommy?”

“ At the Rooster Club.”

“That’s all I needed…places to go people to…” she said smiling and pulled the trigger. The light illuminating the tattoo on her back, skulls on black butterfly wings. “kill.”

Scene

The body lay twisted and bloody, half buried in the dirt and mud. Blonde hair matted with blood and gore, sightless blue eyes stared into an unrelenting sun. She knelt down beside the lifeless figure fingers reaching out to caress a lock of golden hair.

“Mom! Don‘t touch anything.”

“What have you done?”

“Mom you’re contaminating my crime scene!”

“Your what?”

“My crime scene!”

“You best clean up this mess before your sister finds her Barbie in the mud. And no more CSI!”

“Aw…but CSI: Vegas is on tonight!”

“That isn’t my new red nail polish is it?”

“um no.”

Ankara

The following is a short story I wrote a few years ago that I just recovered from the old laptop and had complety frogotten existed till I read it ten minutes ago. Its not the best I have ever written but I don't things its all that bad and hopefully rereading it will inspire me to write more. I just moved this over from the meridian ariel blog and thought it might fit a bit better here even though it isn't a drabble.

Ankara

"Welcome to the beautiful city of Ankara. Gem of the Empire." Zenia muttered under her breath as the door to the cell slammed shut, the lock loudly clicking in place. She waited a moment before pushing to her feet and surveying the dank cell in the dim light from a small window in the door. She could hear the shuffling steps of the guard retreating up the long flight of stairs. " Spend the night in the exotic Palace Dungeon visited by men and women from around the Empire." Zen continued her monologue her tone dripping with acid.

"We’re going to die here aren’t we?"

" What? What sort of attitude is that? I’ve been in worse scrapes that this, this is nothing."

"When?"

"Well I was once climbing a mountain in search of my father’s lost sheep. Halfway to the top the path became very steep. I lost my footing and started to slide down the mountain to my death. I held onto an outcrop of rock, the sharp edges biting into my hands. I looked around and found that I was so high up that the clouds were below me. I could hear the sounds of the sheep bleeting somewhere above me, so up I climbed, hand over hand, higher and higher. All the sudden I heard a terrible howling, and upon the ledge above me stood a pack of winter starved wolves, saliva dripping from their long yellow fangs. There I was, hanging by one arm on the side of a freezing cold mountain, wondering whether or not I should leave the sheep to the wolves and climb back down to safety. As I contemplated my best route home, a hideous roar shook the mountain. Down below me on a ledge stood a giant bear. Imagine that. Hanging from one arm on the side of a mountain. I couldn’t climb up, because of the wolves. I couldn’t go down the mountain as the bear was waiting for me. Now have you ever heard of a worse predicament?"

"No never" Chianna exclaimed waiting patiently for Zen to finish her tail. Zen began to sort through the mouldy, louse infested straw of the dungeon cell. " Uh Zen?"

"Filthy stuff, but some of it seems to be dry. It should be better than sleeping on the cold hard stone." Zen murmured keeping her eyes from alighting on Chianna’s face as she carefully lowered herself to the straw reaching for the small dish of stale slightly mouldy bread "oh good no maggots just a bit of mould."

"Zen"

"It’s not a feast but it should be enough to fill our bellies. The water isn’t too bad either." Zen continued breaking the bread into equal halves and taking a cautious sip of the brackish water in its dented metal pitcher.

"Well?"

"Yes?" Zen looked up, absently brushing a strand of raven hair from her eyes, her face devoid of all expression. "Did you want this side of the cell?"

"The story Zen! Finish the story. What happened next?" blurted Chianna, her cheeks flushing as red as her hair in exasperation.

"Oh that" "Yes that. How did you get down the mountain?" Chianna asked eyes flashing green fire in the dimly lit cell.

"Oh. I didn’t." She replied in a bland tone.

"What?"

"The bear ate me." Zen finished blue eyes sparkling with merriment as Chianna stared at her mouth agape before bursting into helpless laughter. "That’s better. Now remember, never give up. The only situation that could be worse is if we were dead and then nothing would matter anyway. I have been in worse circumstances than this." Zen finished, the corner of her lips twitching slightly as she bent to adjust the laces of her boot withdrawing from a hidden sheath a small deadly looking dagger. The blade gleamed in the pale yellow light shining from the barred window in the door. Now lets get some sleep. We’ll need it for whatever comes next." Zen slipped the dagger back into her boot settling herself in the straw, a small smile curving her lips as her eyes closed.

copyright 2003ish Meridian Ariel

lunatic

“Hello and welcome to Lycanthropes Anonymous. Tonight we have a new face so can we all put our paws together and give a warm welcome to Lonnie.”
“Hello Lonnie!” the room chorused.
“hi.. Um I don’t know what to say.”
“Why don’t you share with us how you were turned.”
“I can’t”
“Of course you can dear, we all have.”
“Oh god.”
“.Just let it all go dear.”
“I was camping in Yosemite. This is so embarrassing. ” Lonnie shifted uncomfortably in her plastic chair. “I was bitten…. by a tick. OK. I got lycanthropy from a fucking tick bite.”

rainbows

He watched as the rain began to fall, shattering the oily rainbows on the puddle’s surface. A bitter smile curved his dry lips. “It’s the end of the world as we know it…” he sang softly pushing away from the rusted car he was leaning against looking out over the freeway, full of dead cars rusting quietly in the rain. Hefting his pack he picked a path through the jumble of dead cars headed away from another abandoned city. No technology, meant no people, just another civilization fallen. Leaving behind plastic water bottles and oil slick rainbows. “It’s the End….”