Writing Challenge ~ 17th - 30th September 2011

WRITING CHALLENGE ~ SEPTEMBER 2011 ~ PART TWO​

Here’s this month’s second prompt...


You can involve the prompt itself in your piece and make your link to the prompt as obvious or as subtle as you like or use it simply as inspiration for something else. You can use part of the prompt, just one aspect of the image, or use it in its entirety.

The word limit for this challenge is 3,000 words and your submission can take whatever form you desire – poetry or prose, complete story or a vignette. Erotic or not, serious or light hearted, it’s whatever you want it to be!!

Post only your submissions in this thread, constructive comments and reviews are to be posted in the appropriately named – Writing Challenge Review Thread

The deadline for this month’s challenge is Friday 30th September 2011, with the first prompt of October ‘going live’ on Saturday 1st!

Previous challenges and reviews can be found here.

Happy writing!

It had been ages since Red had wandered this way in the woods. She could still remember that bloody day, still hear the terrible sound of the wolf, still see what it had done to her grandmother, and what it had wanted to do to her. Thank God for the woodsman.

Despite the trauma, she found herself oddly at ease in this place. The copse of trees made a tunnel; she followed it down the path. She almost started skipping, but caught herself. Such childish whimsy was a thing rooted firmly in her past.

She stopped once she reached the cabin. It had fallen into disrepair; gutters hanging on by a few nails, shingles strewn across the yard. The door was missing. It had to have been blown in or off by a storm. She hugged her cloak tightly around her shoulders. It did little to cut the bite of the wind.

With hesitant steps, she approached. The wind picked up, scattering leaves in its wake. It could've been a warning or simply nature, but either way, she kept on walking until she was within the doorway of Grandma's old house.

Tears started to flow as she strode into each of the old rooms, memories flashing like photographs being taken. This had been her favorite childhood respite. Now it was not much more than a refuge for wayward animals and the passing transient.

After an hour or so, she left the darkened doorstep of the dilapidated house, returning to the path she'd taken. A man's voice echoed on the wind that still cast about the leaves in the yard.

"Been quite a while, Little Red."

"I'm not quite so little anymore."

"Very true. It's nice to see you."

"I was just passing through. I should really be on my way."

"Are you sure you can't stay for a while?"

"Yeah, I need to go."

"Alright. Have a safe trip."

"Thanks."

She started off toward the parking lot at the opposite end of the trail. The man who she'd known as the woodsman watched her walking away, eyes intent on her feet as the leaves crunched beneath them. His eyes seemed larger than normal, almost alien. His pupils dilated, the color of his irises shifting from a deep brown to an almost golden hazel. He began to walk toward Red, each step lighter than it would seem possible for a man his size.

When she looked over her shoulder, the woodsman was gone. The forest had gone deathly silent. Her pace quickened toward her car, and salvation. She lost her cloak in her haste, nearly jumping into the driver's seat. The sound of screeching tires and the scent of burnt rubber filled the air.

From the dense underbrush of the treeline, a wolf trotted over to the crimson cloth billowing in the wind, stuck against a patch of brambles. It tugged the cloak down and leisurely returned to the decrepit house. It circled a spot in what had been the bedroom of Red's grandmother, settling down with the cloak tucked under its forepaws. It cast its gaze toward the front door, looking longingly outward.

If the wolf's eyes could speak, they would say: "I almost had you this time, Red. Next time, you won't be so lucky."

Autumn's Last Fall

The woman slowly stirring in the bed was oblivious to the two who looked down on her. Compassion and heartache radiated of the pair as they looked on, observing the tortured movements, whimpers and soft croaking of a dried out voice.

The man, taller than his female offsider by a full head, lifted his bowed head, and turned to walk out the door. The only noise he made as he left the room was that of his hemp based jeans as the legs rubbed together as he walked. His cotton shirt, and soft soled canvas shoes were effectively silent as he left. A pace or two behind him, the raven haired, pale skinned woman followed with a light swish of the black lacy fabric that made up her dress. Together, the two walked down the empty hallway until they reached an equally empty waiting area.

The man turned to face the younger woman. Unlike her pale complexion and dark hair, he sported a healthy tan, along with light brown hair that was going a "very distinguish gray" according to most of his friends. Unlike his companion, his expression was locked into a neutral pose.

"Have you seen her, Adrian? Actually seen her?" She waved her arms about, emphasizing her point as well as releasing pent up energy. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Is it because you can't heal her? Are you trying to keep her from being helped by me, because she can't be helped by you?" She shook her head violently. "Surely you can see how much she is suffering. You, of all people, should know what is happening to her, and what is being done to her."

"Yes, Sandra, I can see it more clearly than you can."

"Really?" Sandra took a step closer, bending her head back to look him in the eye. "Strange. Since every time I have mentioned about ending her suffering, you have denied me. And people call my kind cold blooded killers, but I am a blazing sun compared to you."

"In keeping with the metaphor, you are more a nova in progress, destroying everything that gets in your way."

"What?! I thought you had compassion. I thought you cared about people. You know, that whole True Believer shit to stick to like glue. Tell me, where in your beliefs does this fit in? Huh? Where you'd let someone suffer terribly by not helping them!"

"As you know, God moves in mysterious ways, none more so than His aiding me the way He does. Her time has not yet come, Sandra. And she is not Fated to die by your hand."

"You know more about the Fate of another than me?" Her voice rose in pitch to a near painful level. "We know more about Fate than you ever will. Your kind prefer to be elbows deep in blood and guts. You focus on Life, Adrian, let me deal with Death."

"I thought you were better than this, Sandra. I never saw you being so bigoted. You may have a better overall understanding of the flow of Fate, and the time of release, but you are wrong on this one. The reason for it is simple. You are too emotionally invested in her."

"Fuck you, Adrian. I know what needs to be done, I know what's right. I am going to go and do the right thing and end her suffering right now." She spun, the edges of her dress bending the jeans legs from the force. With clear anger in her stride, he started to head down the hall.

"Sandra, come back here right now!" Adrian was surprised when she pointed to heaven with her middle finger, not breaking her stride.

"Fine," he spoke softly. He closed his eyes. There was only one way he could stop her, and she would resist him even there. It took him moments to devise how he would complete the task, then quickly released the spell, aimed at Sandra.

Her legs buckled, sending her staggering into the wall. One arm clutched above her head for support, while her other arm disappeared in front of her. He didn't have to guess that Sandra's other hand was pressed hard at the junction of her legs in reaction to the waves of pleasure washing over her from there. She slumped back hard against the wall, slowly turning her head to look at Adrian. Her eyelids fluttered and her whole body trembled as she drew a breath to speak.

"You... God forsaken... oohhhhh... bastard. I never th-th-thought you'd..."

"Ever use my mastery of Life magic to make you hyper aroused? I never thought so either, but I had to stop you. Plus, I had to make sure that you couldn't think too clearly to try and counter me again."

Sandra was rapidly drawing up her skirt, exposing her black underwear to him. He could see that she was soaked, and must have been rather close to climaxing. He continued to walk past her, not bothering to continue to watch as her first touch sparked a spectacular orgasm. He had seen enough of her body when they were lovers, as well as her being his student. She cried out twice more by the time he reached the door.

He was sweating slightly as he maintained the spell on Sandra. He closed on the woman in the bed, looking at her. "I'm so sorry. Sandra wants you to die now, but it is not your time yet. There is something more you need to do first."

He pulled out a dagger that was little more than a blade with a place to be safely gripped. He sliced across his wrist, with blood welling up and beading on his skin. He lowered his wrist closer to her mouth, letting the light trickle fall into her slightly opened mouth.


Elizabeth woke from the best sleep she remembered. She stretched, feeling relaxed and refreshed. As her eyes opened, she looked at her hand. She yelped, sending the limb to the bed. She lay still for a few moments, her chest heaving with the deep breaths she was pulling in. She lifted her hand, and gazed at it for a long minute. What she saw was not the thin, ragged claw like appendage with nearly translucent skin. She was looking at a normal, healthy looking hand. Even the arm was one full of healthy vigor. The sheets flew back, revealing a body clad in a white nightgown, but the shape was not the rail thin, almost skeletal form she last remembered seeing. She quickly got out of her bed, going to the mirror, ignorant of the lack of pain she was suffering.

The woman before the mirror was one she had last seen three years before she began to die. Luxurious waves of brown hair cascaded down behind her shoulders. Her face was glowing, rounded and soft as opposed to the long, drawn, sunken eyed thing with pallid skin and lifeless hair that just managed to hang from her head. Even her teeth were normal. She spun around in joy, laughing at the miracle that somehow befell her.

She grabbed a read shawl, wrapping it around her shoulders as she raced out of the room. With a slight pause, she ran down the hall, heading for a door that would lead her outside.

She entered a world she had almost forgotten. The path the door led to was flanked by trees that were fully prepared for the winter to come. But even looking at the leafless boughs couldn't take away her joy. If anything, it seemed to add to it. She slowly walked, enjoying the feel of the cool stone paving beneath her bare feet, along with the soft, brittle feel of the fallen leaves. The coolness of the air started to bite a little, causing her to laugh, hearing her mother's voice echoing from her childhood about "dressing warmly".

Lost in the sheer joy of the walk, Elizabeth stopped and looked on in awe of the small lake the path meandered beside. The beauty of the reflections of the trees on the still pane of water called to her soul. She found a place to sit, resting against one of the trees, soaking up the sight.

Her heart had laboured hard to get her to that spot. The effort put in caused it to pump more forcefully, raising her blood pressure to dangerous levels. She felt a dull pain in her chest where the the gas exchange occurred in her lungs, the thin membranes straining under the pressure. But it was a blood vessel near her cerebral cortex that gave way. It literally exploded under the pressure, releasing blood that rapidly compressed the brain against her skull. Her head drifted back against the tree, her full lips locked into a glorious smile that she carried away to eternity.


Adrian rested against the bed that had been Elizabeth's constant place of rest for the past 18 months. His body trembled continually from the aftermath of his efforts. He knew that maintaining the two spells was not a good idea, and he was paying for his decision. He heard Sandra shuffle into the room, as well as her gasp as he saw what had befallen him.

"Why, Adrian? Why did you do that... for her?"

"Because," Adrian stammered, "if she died as you wanted, she would have carried her wounds into the next life, which would have made her life worse. This way, she carries only scars. Her life will be harder because of the scars, but not as bad if they hadn't healed."

"How did you know?"

"She suffered more than just physically form her illness. She needed to take happy thoughts away with her. So I gave them to her."

"But was it worth... that?"

Adrian took a look at the mirror once more. He was still disturbed at the sight of himself. The backlash of the spells turned his skin and muscles transparent. The blood vessels, nerve fibres and occasionally even the bones were all visible as if he was some animatronic model. Luckily, his clothing hid his major organs, but seeing his eyeballs rolling around in their sockets was unsettling.

He turned back to face Sandra. "Yes, it was worth everything I suffered."

Sandra walked over, and slapped his face hard. "You fucking cunt, Adrian. Don't you ever, EVER, fuck with my mind again. You do, and I will grant you the Good Death so quickly you wont realize it's happened until you awaken the next time round. Using what we did... back when we were... that was a disgusting thing to do."

He could smell the aroma of her arousal, and he knew how deeply he hurt Sandra by making her relive those scenes he placed in her head. He never knew that she was still deeply attracted to him. But even with the foreknowledge, he would have done the same.

"Come on, you fucking old pervert. You need to get home so this can wear off and you can stop scaring people. Like me."

"Before you do, get a wheelchair down by Elizabeth's body. Make it look like someone took her out for a trip outside, and left her somewhere nice to pass away."

"OK. We don't want a major panic here, do we?"

"Yes, only a minor one. Thanks."