Round 15... and we did it Sid's way

[sidra]

SG1 (cont.)

“Perhaps the princess should wait outside,” Elatha suggested, not really wanting to give her report to Soren in front of this vaguely evil girl. “I’m sure this will not interest her.”<br>
“Anything you have to say to me you may say to Allise,” Soren said firmly. “She is to be my Queen soon, after all.” The princess straightened in her chair and gave Elatha a smugly superior glance.

“Ah. Congratulations,” Elatha said neutrally, ignoring the girl’s rudeness. “Your highness, I have, at your request, investigated the rumors of a horrible beast that has been savaging the townsfolk and the peasants in the outlying farms.”<br>
“Yes, yes, I know that,” Soren said. “What have you found out?”<br>
“First, that the rumors are true.” Elatha unlaced her right sleeve and rolled it up, exposing a wound on her arm that could only have been made by an enormous claw. “Whatever it is, it is quick, and deadly. It is enormous, like a cat or a wolf the size of a warhorse. It also seems to kill purely for pleasure; its victims are generally livestock and small children, and they have their throats torn out and nothing more. It dislikes resistance from its victims. That, of course, did not stop it from killing Imath, and Gel. Terpin is also badly injured; that is why I came.”<br>
“Terpin?” Soren said in concern, his handsome, dusky face drawn up in concern. “Is he all right? Will he live?”<br>
“Yes,” Elatha said, “but the cleric who healed him says he must stay in bed for two more days yet.” She kept an eye on the princess, who was cradling her right arm in her left one in what Elatha thought was a rather suspicious way. “I managed to wound the creature, but, as I said, it is fast, and it ran off when it felt the bite of my steel. I tracked it for a ways, but it is canny and knows the woods here well. I lost its trail.” That had stung her pride; she was the best tracker amongst the Moonstones. Even in the woods in the dead of night during torrential rain she should not have lost all traces of such a large beast.

“My other concern, your highness, is that it has been raining like this for nearly a fortnight,” Elatha continued. She gestured to the amber-colored windows around the tower. Rain was pelting against them constantly, and the patter of the huge drops could be heard throughout the room. “This much rain is highly unnatural for this time of year, and I suspect some sort of sorcery is at work preventing us from marching on towards Islani.”<br>
“The weather will clear up,” Soren said dismissively. “We need to stay here a while more anyway; our provisions have been sorely depleted. And, of course, Princess Allise and I must have time to marry.”<br>
“If this rain persists, the river will rise, and the road we planned to take to the capital will be washed out,” Elatha insisted. “Your Highness, I seriously believe that there is very powerful magic being used against you. The usurper has a very powerful magician in his employ…”

“I do not suspect the magician,” Soren said quietly. “He is my ally in this.”<br>
“My family is loyal to the true king!” the princess interjected suddenly, gesturing wildly with her arms. She flinched in pain and cradled her right arm in her left. Soren leaned over her in concern.

“My dear, what is it? Are you hurt?”<br>
“Nothing, I’m fine,” Allise said hurriedly. “I just bruised my arm earlier today… it is still delicate.” She shifted her blue-eyed gaze towards Elatha. “I am related to the usurper’s magician; he is my great-uncle. I know a few things about magic, and I can tell you right now that this rain is perfectly natural. Perhaps it’s a bit out of season, but there’s nothing supernatural about it. As for the creature, all of the stories about it are pure superstition. There are a great deal of mountain lions in this area, and the peasants like to make up stories. I’m sorry you got caught up in their fiction.”<br>
Elatha held out her arm again. “No mountain lion did this.”<br>
“Well, I’ve lived here nearly all of my life, and I’ve heard stories like that the entire time. I’m afraid my dear prince sent you off on a wild chase.” She leaned back and awkwardly picked up a silver goblet with her left hand. It was polished so brightly that Elatha could see her reflection in it.

“There you are, Greywing; I’m afraid that’s it,” Soren shrugged. “I only regret that Terpin was wounded so badly.”<br>
“Your Highness, I do not wish to belabor the point by arguing with you,” Elatha said. “I saw this creature; it was not a thing of nature. Its blood was black, not red. This rain is unnatural. And I think I know the cause of both.”<br>
“Do you?” Soren said, no trace of interest in his voice. “Then you have my permission to track the culprit down, if only you will leave this room and let me spend a moment with my intended!”<br>
“Very well,” Elatha said, drawing her broadsword. “If she stays still, I’ll make it quick.”<br>
“Greywing!” Soren was outraged, and moved to protect the princess, who had gone pale as a mushroom. “What is the meaning of this! Guard!”<br>
“Soren, don’t be a fool!” Elatha yelled. “Look at her reflection!” She held the flat of her blade towards the princess, and Soren caught a glimpse of dark fur, yellow eyes, and gleaming teeth reflected in the brightly polished steel. He turned to stare at Allise, still the pale auburn beauty whose beauty had captivated him two weeks ago when she had offered him the key to the city of Harth. But even as he stared at her, he looked down at her right arm and saw black blood seeping through the pale peach fabric of her dress. He raised his face to hers in horror, and she hissed, her eyes going yellow.

“Allise…” he gasped, stumbling away from her. Elatha leapt forward, her broadsword whistling through the air. Allise let out a brief, blood-curdling shriek, like that of a wild animal, before Elatha’s sword removed her head from her body. The corpse of a gigantic black cat-like beast fell to the floor, pitch-black blood spurting from its severed neck.

“I am afraid,” Elatha said to the prince, who was still staring in horror at the thing that had been his fiancé, “that you will have to amend your wedding plans.” She wiped her blade clean and sheathed her sword. The pelting of the rain against the yellow panes of glass lessened, and then suddenly ceased.

[Tammyk]

I must say the two stories posted so far are very nice and very distinct from each other in their styles. I enjoyed reading them.

[Tammyk]

TK1

I should have suspected it in the beginning. The way she drank cocoa, even in the torrid summer air. The way she always crossed her legs, her yellow sandals dangling from her toes. The way her lipstick left a ring on her cigarette.

I sat across from her and leaned back in my chair, its front legs coming off the floor and my fingertips on the edge of the table. She grinned - her attempt to appear winsome - and I leveled my chair on the floor. Her teeth shone behind her red lips, a peppermint candy mouth, and that's all I saw, the Cheshire cat spouting its garrulous chatter.

She ran her fingers over the top of her glass, clicked her nails against it, then drank it down, orange and sticky, in one gulp. She licked the edge of the glass, then, and winked at me, and I saw her tongue moving across that man's stomach, over his belly button, slick and wet, the same way it moved across the glass.

Not a big deal, she said, just a thing. I rose from my chair fast and knocked over my own glass of water. It pooled on the table and ran in streams to the edge where it dripped onto the carpet. She shrank back from me, the defiance gone from her face, her cheshire mouth no longer grinning. I moved toward her, my toes in the wet carpet. I belabored her and reached and found her hair in my fingers. Her hair, shining chestnut

on an open fire

the only soft thing about her, tangled in my fist, running under my nails. She screamed and it ripped, still in my hand, and her chair upturned as she moved backward into the corner with her arms out.

Her hair slipped out of my fingers and scattered on the floor. I picked up her chair and, with all the power ordained me by her actions, I swung.

[Chaos]

Wow, wow, wow!

Sidra...Tammy...GREAT stories! I love the fairy tale aspect to Sid's, and Tammy's, while short, is very powerful...if the quality of writing continues in this vein, we're going to have a terribly difficult time with the voting!

Well, I'm glad I posted my story before I knew about the extension. Now I can work on the Christmas story...that I've been working on since August!

See ya'll at the polls on Wednesday!

[jenn]

JS1

Jules thought she just might hang herself if she had to listen to anymore of her father’s GARRULOUS speech, as she sat in the front pew watching him rattle on to his congregation about the corruption in the world today. She sat in disbelief, as usual when he spoke in front of the church, but he was an ORDAINED minister, and that is all his flock needed to know. He smiled that WINSOME smile, and BELABORed on about the devil, and the lord, and sin. Sin that was something he knew all about Jules thought. Her father put on a good show; he said all the right things, and these people would follow him right to the gates of hell. She so often wished this herd of sheep could see the man for what he really was, a sinner.

Once he was her world, she had been daddy’s little angel then. It seemed so long ago when she would climb upon his lap and he would kiss her head and tell her stories about beautiful princesses and shining knights. He could do no wrong in her eyes, but he had crushed that illusion in a moment. Jules would never forget the night it all came crumbling down around her. She had been sleeping peacefully, when she awoken to her mother’s sweet voice, but as she emerged for her cocoon of soft blankets, she realized that her mother was crying.

“Jesus died for your sins.” Her father’s voice rose to the rafters bringing her back to the present. Jules grabbed her purse, took out a PEPPERMINT candy, and popped it into her mouth with all the DEFIANCE she could muster. His sermons always left her with a dry mouth.

“Jesus will forgive you my brothers and sisters; He will forgive you of all your sins if you repent and come to him and live by his word.” Jules eyes met her fathers as she stood up, and the words spilled from her. All the years of pretending she didn’t know all the years of protecting him, all the years of shame came to a head.

“Will he forgive you father?” she quizzed.
“Jules of course he will, but you know I lead a virtuous life daughter. I live by Gods laws.” He smiled.

“God’s laws, and was it God’s law when my mother caught you having sex with another man? Oh it was a TORRID affair wasn’t it father?” She spun around to face the very people he was lying to.

“Jules you sit down and quit making false acquisitions against me. What is wrong with you girl, the Devil is making you tell these lies.” His face went white, and his hands trembled.

“And I SUSPECT it was God’s law that made you wrap your hands around my mother’s neck and squeezed the very last breath out of her? Huh, father? Oh, you thought your little angel was sleeping, but I saw it all. I saw you and him naked on your bed; I saw mother cry. I saw him leave and I saw you kill her.” Jules gave him an angelic smile. She felt the weight of the world lifted from her, now he knew that she had kept his dark little secrets all this time.

The congregation sat silently as Jules dropped to her knees in the aisle and began to cry. Her father stepped toward her, but the crowd gathered around her, protecting her as she begged God to forgive her. She felt safe; safe in the arms of his flock, she finally understood it was never her father they followed, no this was not her fathers flock at all this was His flock.

Jules watched as her father was escorted, handcuffed, down the steps to the police car that awaited, and she knew God would finally give her the justice her heart had longed for.

[ThatWickedWench]

Wench1

The thundering of hooves pounded an orgasmic harmony into my brain. I turned my head this way, and that, observing the various paddocks containing the awesome beasts that filled my life and work..God, I loved it here already.

A shriek of fury filled the air, and I spun around in time to witness a brilliant torrid red stallion
rearing to strike at another.. His eyes were wild with vengeance, no doubt he was trying to ‘protect’ the small herd of mares paddocked nearby. The other male turned from the red monster’s challenge and fled up the pasture. In my opinion, that was a smart move. I observed the larger, red horse’s defiance as he snorted steam and stamped a massive hoof.

He was the one, I was sure of it.

I had received the phone call yesterday about the arrival of this wild horse. He had been deemed uncontrollable and dangerous. The owner of this particular farm had heard through the grapevine that I dealt with such animals, so I was asked if I would make the time to assess the situation. Actually in a rather domineering and garrulous tone, the farm owner, Rex Trowling, had said this, “the sooner I get SOMEONE out here to assure me this is a hopeless case, the quicker I can get him off my hands. And as much as I hate it, that someone has got to be you because you are all I could get on the line, Ms. Raines. You know how it goes.” Now not only had I learned the man had no respect for women, but he was going to put this horse down, and from the looks of it, whether I deemed it necessary or not. I did not belabor his point, but simply replied, “Mr. Trowling, if this horse in any way is not fit for your commercial needs, you will hear firsthand from me.” I think I heard him grunt in answer just before he hung up.

The background on this magnificent stallion was hazy. Rex could not tell me from where he had obtained ownership- simply that a deal had gone bad and this was the result. He said one of his farmhands had gotten close enough to throw a halter on him and get him to the cross ties, but upon getting within range to tack him up... well let’s just say that farmhand is on medical leave now with a broken arm and a nasty lacerated eyebrow. So far, all the stallion was to Rex Trowling, was a liability- and in order to take care of the liability, it was necessary to get the word of an expert.

An expert. I never used that word to describe my quality of work. I loved my work. Everything equine flowed through my blood. I had been through every aspect of the horse-world since I was old enough to walk.. From foaling to eventing and even racing- and I was not about to let some walking Texas wallet in a cowboy hat have the final ordainment over a creature that God had surely spent great time in making.

I walked casually into the barn to get to know my surroundings better. I was not sure how long my stay would be, but it was always good in a situation such as this, to get to know the barn staff as well as the barn. I wasn’t going to get anywhere with Mr. Trowling, I was sure. And I knew I would also learn more about the way he operated his barn from his underlings. The main barn was impressive. The stalls were much larger than standard and they were all equipped with automatic water and an expensive ventilation system designed to seal tightly for the winter to lock in warmth.

And the end of the row of stalls was one much larger than the rest. I noticed it had two sliding doors- one opening inside to the barn and the other to the paddock. I asked a nearby hand if this one belonged to the red stallion and he replied, ‘Yes’m. That monster, Firebird! That’s his stall.. But please don’t ask me to bring ‘m in, we only just lett’m out and he’s a bitch to catch, that one is.” The kid smiled winsomely as I assured him I wouldn’t need his help. He snickered as I walked away.. Great, another man in the making who had no faith in women. I had suspected that stall was reserved for him- Firebird. Rex would want him in a large box, should he thrash about and kick the walls in.

I walked outside the barn into the glorious sunshine and up to the fence that encased the pasture that the fabulous Firebird occupied. He stood alone on a hill, his head high, nostrils flared to the sky and his tail whipping like a flag in the wind. I climbed the fence and entered his domain, the wind tossed my own red mane, this way and that. I lifted my face to the sky and flared my own nostrils, to see if I could sense what he was smelling. What a tremendous feeling of freedom I felt! How wonderful it must be to be such a magnificent creature. I closed my eyes and let the wind blast my face with autumnal gusts. I stood there, frozen like a statue, pretending I was the horse that I was meant to be, and not another ignorant human.

Moments later, I heard it on the breeze.. A soft snort, a whinny. Stamp of a hoof, but softly. I opened one eye, then the next. Firebird had come down off his mountain to investigate me. He shook his mane at me and snorted again. Curious. I playfully snorted back at him and shook my head. I laughed inside my mind at what people would think as they watched our interaction.. I held out a hand toward the so called ‘monster’ and with the other hand, rattled gently the pocket full of peppermints I had thought to bring.

Firebird lowered his head then..only twelve feet from me now and moving ever so rapidly closer. I closed my eyes again and lifted my face to the sun and blew a soft raspberry much like the sigh of a contented horse. And then, he was there at me.. He nuzzled my arm first and then my neck and as I opened my eyes and looked at him so close to me for the first time, his large head and neck had encircled me over my shoulder as if he was hugging me.. It was amazing. His soft muzzle nibbled at my ear..beautiful.

I ran my fingers through his matted mane and over his muscular chest and withers. He let me touch him wherever I wanted and I fed him at least two handfuls of mints before I decided to attempt the impossible. I grabbed a fistful of mane and led him to a stump about twenty feet away- he walked calmly with me, no sign of the killer I had witnessed nor heard about. At the stump, I breathed in deeply and in one fluid movement, I was ontop of him...and I stayed on him. Firebird made no move to dismount me, he simply turned his big head back to where I sat on his back. Curious as to what I was going to do next...I was curious too.

I squeezed his sides firmly with my legs urging him forward and he moved forward in a smooth trot- his muscles rippling beneath me. As we approached the barn, I was satisfied to see Rex standing there with the barn hands, his mouth agape. As I led Firebird into the barn, Rex began to stumble over himself with apologies, but I shushed him with my hand.

“And there's no need to write me a check either, Mr. Trowling. I believe that Firebird has chosen who he belongs with. If that’s alright with YOU, that is.”<br>Rex merely breathed in response, “and damn has he chosen well, ma’am.” Rex’s eyes followed me as I prepared to trailer my new horse.

If I wasn’t mistaken, Mr. Trowling had learned a few things that day.

[Tricia]

TW1

The old wooden ship rocked slowly back and forth in the water. She was listing badly to one side and the occasional breeze made her tattered sails snap loudly, like the report of a rifle in the darkness.

The Harbor Master's boat made it's way through the choppy waves until it had pulled up close to the huge vessel.
Inspector Henderson pulled a peppermint from his pocket and let the wrapper fall to the deck of the boat. He had taken to sucking on the candy in an effort to quit smoking. Something his wife and four children had been on him to do for a while now. He would still occasionally cheat and sneak a cigar when he was playing Wednesday night poker with the guys, but lately most of his off duty time was spent looking into the strange happenings around Sunset Bay.

For the most part this was a quiet sleepy town. It was about two miles east of Mystic Springs and so far they had not had any weird things happen like the dreadful goings on out at the Springs. Well... until recently.

Just over the last month there had been some odd occurrences, but so far nothing too extreme. The town believed that they had been spared all of the drama of the Springs because they were smart and had every building in town blessed by an ordained minister. It seemed to have worked up until this point, but now the Inspector was beginning to suspect that their little religious ceremony wasn't quite enough to hold back the dark powers at work in their quaint little corner of the world.

It had started a few weeks ago with the whales. A couple of whales had lost their sense of direction and washed up on the beach. It was a sad sight to see the huge mammals twitching and shuttering on the sand, but the resources in the town of Sunset were limited. In the end the sheriff went down and shot them all. He said it was the humane thing to do, but the whole ordeal had been quite traumatic for everyone in their small community.

Then the crows had come... not just twenty or thirty, but hundreds. Not such a strange occurrence, except that this wasn't crow country. And these crows weren't exactly your average birds. They were huge. Big enough to fly away with a cat or small dog clamped tightly in their beaks... if the whim should suddenly come upon them. They roosted in the trees all around town. Their beady black eyes followed the townsfolk around like they were hatching some type of macabre Hitchcockian plot.

And dead fish...they started finding them washed in the low tide. Then high tide would roll in and wash them away again. Literally thousands of dead fish had been spotted over the last month.

Then things began to get stranger still.

About two nights ago Sheriff Rogers had run into a problem with old lady Spencer. He had come across her standing in the middle of Bayside Drive after midnight. She was wearing nothing but a tattered old negligee that had seen better days and a winsome smile on her face that completely unnerved the poor sheriff. She stood staring out into the dark waters of the bay, and then she reached out for the sheriff beckoning him to her with such overt sexuality that the sheriff was taken aback. The sheriff would say later that for just a second it was if the old women had melted away to reveal a glimpse of a young girl with bright eyes and pink lips. The men working with him that night would mutter to each other that perhaps the sheriff was hitting the bottle a little too much lately.

And now this boat had appeared in the Harbor. Folks were saying that it was ‘The Destiny’, a legendary ghost ship in these parts. Of course that was just a rumor started by the garrulous lot of local fishermen who made up tales of seeing ‘The Destiny’ to get a rise out of the girls in town. The Destiny had capsized and sunk during a storm about a hundred years ago taking 300 hundred souls to the dark, murky bottom of the Harbor.

The Inspector turned to the Harbor Master and gestured towards the burly man they had brought with them for this midnight mission.
“Andy? Why don’t you hop on up there and have a look see?” the Harbor Master asked, his voice a little shaky.
As they stared up at the rope ladder swaying from side to side against the ship, the Harbor Master was sure that he kept seeing movement up there. Like something lurking in the dark… just waiting to wrap cold, water logged arms around some unsuspecting prey. He had to force himself to pull his gaze from the top of that rope ladder. He turned to look at Andy who was standing, arms folded across his massive chest, with a look of complete defiance on his usually good-natured face.

“I’m not going up there. No way.” Andy said with such determination that the other two men knew it would be a waste of time to push the subject any further.

“Fine” Inspector Henderson sighed. He made his way over to the ship bobbing up and down in the increasingly turbulent waters and began his ascent up the swaying ancient hemp.

In quitting smoking he had also managed to pack on an extra 15 pounds… ‘Probably from all of the peppermints’ he thought ironically, as the rope began to groan in protest at being belabored by his large girth.
When he reached the top he swung his legs over the banister and landed on the slightly mushy wooden planks. Reaching down he pulled a flashlight out of his waist pouch. He switched it on and the light seemed to shimmer in the fog that was beginning to roll up on the deck.
As he stood on the deck with his flashlight the fog seemed to go from a light haze to a thick wall as if the sea had turned into a torrid bubbling cauldron.
The flashlight illuminated a grisly scene. It looked like a terrible battle had occurred here. There was blood and broken bottles and all types of wooden debris strewn about everywhere he looked.

The Inspector made his way towards the cabin in the center of the ship. He moved gingerly as the fog began to thicken. It wrapped itself tightly around his flashlight choking the beam smaller until all that was left was a sickly yellowish glow that was unable to cut it’s way through the murkiness.

The Inspector startled at a loud thump from the rafters above him. At the same time he became aware of the howls and yells of the men out on the Harbor Master’s boat.

He groped his way along the banister to the ladder that he had used to climb onto the ship, but as he looked down through the mist he became aware that the Harbor Master’s boat was no longer along side the ship. Straining to see through the heavy fog he could just make out the weak lamplight that was the Harbor Master’s boat.

Suddenly the ship surged forward. It almost knocked him overboard as he stretched himself over the banister calling for the Harbor Master to return.
The ship lurched forward in the darkness at an ever-increasing pace. The fog began to break slightly and he caught a glimpse of the Harbor Masters boat as it was pulled just as quickly in the opposite direction.
As the distance between them grew he was overcome with panic. Surely this was not really happening. His mind was racing with thoughts to explain how this could be just some slightly abnormal, but perfectly reasonable phenomenon.
He leaned out once more to yell for the Harbor Master in hopes that he and Andy were now turning their vessel around and coming to find him in the darkness.
It was then that he heard the thump again… only this time it wasn’t in the rafters. It was about three feet directly behind him.
“Holy mother of God” he screamed as he felt the sting of icy cold fingers against his neck.

[Tricia]

Okay sucka!
Time is up!

If you don't have your story in by now then you are even slower than me! And I'm 103 years old.

So voting will begin now.

And it will end on saturday night at midnight (my time).
Happy reading all!

[RedneckDiva]

Ooh is it possible that I am the first voter? Why, yes, I do believe I am. Small consolation considering I missed the deadline, though. BUT I was busy with a precious little boy's 6th birthday party yesterday and even though I'm disappointed at missing this round, I feel I made the best choice. ANyhoo...the voting, yes....

TK1 and SG1

[Tammyk]

Great stories!

I vote for:

SG1
JS1

[sidra]

this was SO NOT EASY!!! i can't believe we can only vote for two. sigh... but everyone's a winner here, right? i mean... right? argh... anyway.

my votes go to:

AD1
and
JS1

this was so hard. i don't know if i can convey to y'all how hard this was.

[Chaos]

Tricia said:

Did you have to strip and peanut butter?
Yes you did!
So did everyone... except Jenn and I... but we've gotten nakey many times on this forum since then!

Well, no...actually, my Queen, I never *did* "strip and peanut butter." I seem to recall taking a pass on that particular little rite of passage. So. There.

Now...the voting. (God, I hate this part...have I ever mentioned that to ya'll before?)

I’m gonna have to think about this for a minute. Or maybe even two.

So I think I will put off my vote until tomorrow evening. Tricia, don’t you dare start the counting without my vote, ya hear?

[Tricia]

Did you guys hear something?

For a second there I thought I heard Chaos.... something like strip... blah blah blah... peanutbutter... blah blah blah

I have to go I'm getting hot... and hungry

[ThatWickedWench]

*sigh*
AD1
TW1

Very good job to everyone.

[Tricia]

AD1
and
Wench1


mmmmm peanutbutter and newbies... yummy!
;D