Ill Met By Moonlight

Ill Met By Moonlight

Now, the final reckoning; I’ve crossed your fence, savaged my poor tamed cousin, dodged your bullets, cornered you in your shiny den. Can you match me, tooth for tooth, claw for bloody claw? I hear you Man, breathing sharp, ragged. I see you Man, pale, puny. You cannot hide from me. I smell your fear.

55 Words

@nickjohns999

This was written for 55 Word Challenge 28 over at Jezri's Nightmares

This piece got an Honourable Mention from judge Lisa 

Thank you Nathaniel Lee (Scattercat)

Siren

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Siren

His boots scuffed towards me. I felt dust settle gentle on my skin.

“Well, what have we here?”

Whisky breath stained my nostrils.

“What can I do for you little lady? Hell, I see you’re no lady... I ain’t no gentleman neither, so it’s all about what you can do for me.”

I tasted the heat of his desire sour in my mouth.

“What’s your name Honey?”

“Anathema.” Yes, he was mine alright.

“What you doin’ here, alone?

He leaned close and pawed at me.

I snapped his neck with long practiced ease.

“I’m cursed to kill creeps throughout eternity.”

100 Words

This was written for Stevie McCoy's Tuesday Tales 59 over at Glitterword

Trusted Friend

Trusted Friend

I never imagined that my best friend would be my undoing. Everyone has a blind spot and he was mine. My wife warned me, but I would not listen. I had given him everything. Everything he had, he owed to me. Even when he opposed me, I forgave him. As I rose, he rose with me and now, on the brink of our greatest triumph, he turned against me. He waited patiently for me, though I was late and, as I approached, he smiled. I forgot, teeth are used more for biting than greeting. “Give me your hand, friend Brutus.”

100 Words

This was written for this week's Motivation Monday 'We will meet the enemy'

It got an Honourable Mention from judge Nellie @solimond !

Dangerous Summer

Dangerous Summer

They say the sun out here can kill a man. Dry him out like old jerky, flense the flesh off his bones and turn them to stone, then to dust. Out here that kinda dust don’t just blow away, it lingers; soulless splinters, whipped up by spiteful eddies of capricious wind, tiny pieces of people. They’ll draw tears from the eyes of unwary travellers, wheedle out precious moisture, help the sun desiccate them.

But I like it here. Places where nature is harsh, perilous, are more real. There’s a dangerous whispering truth to them, like the fascinating glint on the treacherous edge on a newly whetted blade. You just got to take care, that’s all. Make the right choice. The ones that come here think they know that. By looking for me they prove that they’re serious – or desperate.

There’s a longing in them, a need, not just a want. An edge, something I can work with. They can be honed, ground into polished dust. So they come, they think they got choices. But no, whichever way you go from here, it’s me or the sun. That’s why the crossroads is always the best place for me to make deals.

___

200 Words

@nickjohns999

This was written for Cara Michaels' Menage Monday 48