This is a snippet from my current work in progress, which works great for a Thursday Threads entry. (The title was The House of Scarlet Lane, for a minute Blind Sorrow, Blind Fear, then Demon of Ashcroft, changed again to The Ashcroft Chronicles, and now I’m toying with The Women of Ashcroft or maybe The Witch of Ashcroft. It’ll know it’s name…
The hissing voices around her were maddening, demanding she pay attention to them as they stood at the edge of the salt circle. Jimin concentrated, listening for the one voice she wanted to hear, her father’s. Her earliest memories always included seeing people no one else saw, telling her things, expecting her to help them,…
Vermillion clouds blazed in the morning sky as shades of purple nuanced to the west toward the glowing moon. The air stung their cheeks as they trudged through the brush. Neither spoke, but the chill wasn’t responsible for freezing words in their throats; anything said would sound trite or obtuse, igniting the war between them…
Her eyes fluttered in response to the silver light filling the room. The sound of a steady hissing, like a kettle on the fire, found her ears. Pushing herself up, she winced from the aches tormenting her muscles and joints from sleeping on the unaccommodating surface of a wooden pallet. The empty room danced with…
Glancing at the door, most wouldn’t notice the small gap where the wood has separated from the dry conditions; they aren’t as observant as me. No, they are stuck with seeing just the fun parts, but truth be told, they miss those, too. Not a detail of the world misses my scrutiny. This peephole gives…
Cool droplets of dew covered her pale skin, the moonlight made it glisten like tiny jewels. She waited in the same spot every night, nestled in the tall grass hidden from the outside world. Watching for the sigil to blaze in the heavens, her eyes remained wide, waiting endlessly for her lover’s return. She pondered…
The gray meat, devoid of blood, taunted Micah when he entered the room, immediately freezing him seeing it on his shiny hardwood floor, reflecting its image in the sheen. The end, where the wrist should’ve been connected, glistened with fading puce. “Karissa!” he shrieked. She entered the room, a smirk creased her lips seeing his…
The elegant way Karissa dusted the powder on her face intrigued Micah, each stroke exquisite beauty. She took him for granted, but why wouldn’t she, they’d been together since conception, and would remain together, through thick or thin. She focused on his reflection. His bland expression unnerved her; his depressive mood had taken the reins,…
