Friday, 1 February 2013

What Lies Beneath


http://rochellewisofffields.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/copyright-claire-fuller.jpg
Image © Claire Fuller


What Lies Beneath

When life first stirred within me in forgotten ages long past, He was there, a paragon, fresh quickened from the very stuff of creation. We bestrode the awakening world and I was ever with him; Roland to his Charlemagne. But his pride grew and anger festered deep within him, poisoning his very soul. Millions fell opposing his tyranny, but, finally bested with my traitorous help, he was petrified, entombed for all eternity, me still beside him. I could not desert Him. But now he re-emerges, one chip at a time; freed by an artist’s innocent folly.
The sculptor must die.

100 words
@nickjohns999

This story was written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields' Friday Fictioneers challenge
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24 comments:

  1. Reading Pleasure1 February 2013 at 16:15

    Interesting and chilly take

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  2. Anonymous1 February 2013 at 16:39

    A beauty f a narration. I love the magic of your voice!

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    1. Nick1 February 2013 at 17:06

      Thanks for popping in Charles. I'm glad you enjoyed the tale!

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  3. janet1 February 2013 at 23:31

    Nick, what an interesting and well-executed idea! I pity both the narrator and the sculptor.

    janet

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    1. Nick2 February 2013 at 06:30

      Thanks Janet. I felt for the narrator, once again trapped and forced into an action that he would rather not face.

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  4. train-whistle2 February 2013 at 00:07

    this was really good. fantastic last line.

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    1. Nick2 February 2013 at 06:31

      Hi Virginia! Thanks for taking the time to look in and to comment.

      Delete
  5. Rochelle Wisoff-Fields2 February 2013 at 11:43

    A chilling symbiotic relationship there, Nick. Well written imagery.

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    1. Nick3 February 2013 at 08:43

      Thanks Rochelle, a fascinating, evocative prompt photo. Well up to your usual standards!

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  6. Douglas MacIlroy2 February 2013 at 11:46

    Dear Nick,

    I'll bite. Who was he? Thought there'd be more of a clue. perhaps I'm just dain brammaged.

    Aloha,

    Doug

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    1. Nick3 February 2013 at 08:42

      Hi Doug The picture just called to mind entombment, so I imagined a being, before recorded time, a kind of Lucifer character if you will, being resurrected from his petrification. A reverse of the return of Arthur or a saviour - a return of a destroyer. Just reading too many myths and legends, I guess. Thanks for commenting.

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  7. brudberg2 February 2013 at 14:51

    What a chilling ghost story. You have a vivid imagination.

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  8. Sandra Crook3 February 2013 at 10:11

    Brilliantly scary, and hauntingly told.

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  9. Ann Isik (Poetic Mapping)3 February 2013 at 12:34

    And another chanson de geste is born! Thanks for this richly entertaining story. Ann

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    1. Nick3 February 2013 at 12:52

      Hi Ann! That was exactly the feel that I was searching for, in an abbreviated form!

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  10. Anonymous3 February 2013 at 14:33

    wow this is unique, interesting, chilling. and you managed to pull it off quite amazingly.

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  11. Unknown3 February 2013 at 17:44

    This was a very good read, rich with understanding of what could be. Just so well done. Most impressive, Penny

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    1. Nick3 February 2013 at 18:29

      Hi Penny. Thanks for taking time to visit - and to comment!

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  12. Shirley4 February 2013 at 02:24

    Very nice. I loved the line "one chip at a time".

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