Writing Challenge

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The Forest Path

The forest path was shrouded in a fog, thick as to be tangible. His breath steamed as he trod, unsurely, deeper into the wood. Had he been traveling for hours, or days? The canopy secluded the undergrowth from the notion of sunrise or sunset, though light always filtered through. This evening was the color of a fresh bruise, violet but not vivid. The mist clinging to the air gave the light a pale tint. The sound of his boots crunching dried leaves echoed loudly.

His eyes scanned his surroundings, frantically searching for the source of the voice that had haunted him since entering the tree line.

"You look lost. I can help you find your way."

The voice was eerie, yet seductive. It held a timbre that was assuredly not of this world. He knew that this place held spirits, fae and otherwise, but he had hoped the wards he'd purchased would keep them at bay.

"Don't be frightened. If I step into the light, promise not to scream..."

His eyes widened as she...no, it...came into view. Flowing raven hair, alabaster skin, one emerald and one sapphire eye, limbs lithe and waifish. Naked as nature, though that was to be expected. A crown of twigs and leaves adorned its brow.

Its stare affixed him to the ground. He felt his heart beating heavy against his ribcage, but could not utter a word or flee.

"Yes, strong. Warded, but not against me. The sages do not know my True Name and that will sadly be your downfall. But...before you die, we shall have some fun..."

Its voice was full of mischief as it danced closer, swaying on legs that seemed to end before they reached the ground. The fog swirled with it, almost an after-image of the spirit, echoing the fluidity of its grace.

He could smell a scent like cloves and gravedirt, wafting to his nostrils the closer it got. Sweet and pallid all at once. He swallowed his fear audibly, steeling his mind against the unsettling nature of this encounter.

As if she...no, it...could read his thoughts, a single slender finger traced his cheek.

"Fun, I said. We shall have some fun. Your fear is dreadfully boring."

Those mismatched eyes burned into his own, scintillating from some inner source. Mesmerizing...

He shook his head, desperate to rid himself of the paralysis that had seized his every muscle. It was to no avail. She...no, it...smiled and bared rows of too many, too-sharp teeth. It was a shark's grin, a demon's maw...and yet, he felt the urge to smile back.

Fingertips like gossamer traced his features, caressing the column of his neck. Her...no, its...touch was cold as an icy wind, causing gooseflesh to rise in the wake of touching. He felt his stomach tense, every fiber of his being taut with the desire to be miles away from here. He watched helplessly as she...no, it...

Damn it all! I know this is no woman, and yet when I look all I can see is an inquisitive girl, a sprite whose curiosity and sexuality are but burgeoning. I know she is a succubus, a dryad, some form of soul-devouring demon...but every icy touch brings forth heat from my belly. An urge, unbidden...

Subtle motions loosed his belt, his breeches falling in a clatter to a pool around his ankles. The cold air of evening crawled over him, making him acutely aware of how his body had betrayed him.

"Yes...see? You know how to have fun. This will be quite enjoyable..."

He could not perceive the movement that brought her...no, it...eye-level to his waistline. He was still frozen, as much a tree in the forest as any surrounding them. His manhood throbbed, a rigid limb, engorged despite his terror...or perhaps because of it...

Cold. Every touch was the chill of the grave, the cool bite of an autumn wind etching itself into his skin.

It was a stark contrast to his own heat. Slowly, the cold was joined by wetness, an ethereal sense of slickness. His body heat flowed out and into her...no, it...accompanied by a dulcet moan. It was a lover's sound, but it held a tinge of a more visceral hunger. He could feel the pinpricks of those teeth, just grazing his flesh before leaving it to the soft pucker of lips.

He realized he was staring down on her...no...yes, her. He watched enrapt as she serviced him, sliding her mouth over his length again and again, the squelching of suction rippling through the air. Her...no...yes, her eyes. They flicked upward to catch his gaze, glittering like gemstones. A soft smile curled the edges of her lips as she continued.

Time seemed to go on forever, stretching into infinity. The only things he could be certain of were that he was still frozen and that his cock was still hard, nearly painful in its pulsing rigidity. She...no...yes, she...had now risen from her knees, a sheen of saliva coating her lips. Her wraithlike fingers grasped him at the root, stroking gently, firmly.

"Now we have the real fun..."

She braced herself with one hand behind his neck, legs seeming to levitate, her hips nestling against his. A similar cool wetness, much like her mouth but with more viscosity, coated the head of his cock. He felt the barest resistance of her sex before it began to envelope him, sliding down his shaft. She rested at his base and he felt the clenching of muscles that he could not name, felt a rippling of pressure that tore a guttural moan from his throat.

He could speak no words, but the sounds of a beast rutting issued from him over and again as she writhed, rocking her hips to slip her sodden tunnel up to his tip, driving back down again. She made noises of her own, somewhere between a mewling and growling.

Suddenly his hands were free! He could move, he could throw this demoness away from him and flee! And yet, with his eyes locked on her mismatched ones, his only actions were to kiss along her neck and grasp her ass, rocking his hips in unison with her, causing the crash of them to resound. The echo of their flesh pounding together rang in his ears.

There was a staccato to her cries, he could feel his body tensing like a bowstring, the highest note of a carnal aria reaching its apex...

It appeared as though her eyes were lanterns, gemstones lit with supernatural flame. He could not look away as she stared into him, through him. He felt his release spilling into her, felt a strange pulling...as though her body was siphoning his very soul through his cock.

In reality, his soul was leaving through his eyes. She..no, it...drank his essence slowly, riding the waves of passion and emotion he'd felt in those last moments. As she did, his body's color paled, turning a shade of gray like birch wood bleached in the sun. She nimbly dismounted him, leaving a twisted figure, part man, part tree. She smiled again, a death's head grin, and disappeared into the mists, a spectre, a figment, leaving not a trace in the grim silence of the wood.

Had he been more attentive, he would have seen the other trees of the forest path, gnarled and knotty, eternally staring, somewhere between ecstasy and agony.
 
FR33k!!!

I'm glad to see I can still draw you out from the ether. *grins* Thank you for participating. I loved it! You, my friend, write better than ever.

*kisses his cheek* Good to see you again, my dear. :heart:
 
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FR33k!!!

I'm glad to see I can still draw you out from the ether. *grins* Thank you for participating. I loved it! You, my friend, write better than ever.

*kisses his cheek* Good to see you again, my dear. :heart:
Thanks. *grins*

It was nice to do a little prompt-work.
 
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Insane.

Mad.

Off-your-goddamn-rocker.

All of these words echoed in her mind as she feverishly drew the inverted pentacle on the dilapidated floor. The Delacroix Mansion had a long and storied past, steeped in shadows and mystery - the perfect channel and portal to the Darkness.

Tears stung her eyes as her hands studiously drew the summoning sigils from memory with ease. Her stomach roiled.

As a student of the Light, the work she was about to engage in was against everything she stood for; everything that she had been taught. But as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures, and she needed help from the Other Side.

She pocketed the chalk then preceded to light a black candle at each point before encircling the portal with an unbroken line of salt.

This was it.
No going back.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her sleeve, stepped into the center of the circle, and took a knee. Her hand stole beneath her skirts and between her legs; a quiet moan slipping past her lips as deft fingers slid between her folds to pull away with evidence of her arousal.

She stared at her hand for a moment, and shook her head while her brain recalled a previous lesson of fear serving as a powerful aphrodisiac. Her wetness glistened in the moonlight that streamed in through the overhead windows.

Before hesitation could take root, her other hand unsheathed her ceremonial blade, and slashed her palm; lifeblood mixing in with her essence. She winced as she reflexively closed her hand in an effort to stymie the pain, only to begrudgingly spread her fingers and press her open wound into the center of the circle.

Otherworldly energy swirled around her, and she began to chant.

This was beyond reckless.
Stupid even.

Performing the spell within the circle exposed her, made her vulnerable. It positioned her as bait within a trap that could very well ensnare her as well.

But the chance of allying herself with a powerful demon was worth the risk. She gripped her grandmother’s amulet and continued chanting with renewed focus.
The circle began to glow; white-blue at first, before transitioning to yellow-orange, then deep red.

Cyclonic energy took the form of wind gusts that whirled dust and debris like tiny daggers that pricked at her face and exposed skin, threatening to break her concentration. Sweat beaded down her temple as she clenched her eyes tight and finished recanting the spell in low and steady tones.

Time seemed to contract before dilating, then came to an eerie, quiet pause. Her hair stood on end, as atmospheric pressure froze her body in place. She tried not to panic as she felt her energy being siphoned out of her hand.

A figure began to take shape in front of her: all inky shadows, mist, and primordial energy. Even if she could move, she wouldn’t dare lift her head.

At least not yet.
 
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View attachment 2186752


Insane.

Mad.

Off-your-goddamn-rocker.

All of these words echoed in her mind as she feverishly drew the inverted pentacle on the dilapidated floor. The Delacroix Mansion had a long and storied past, steeped in shadows and mystery - the perfect channel and portal to the Dark.

Tears stung her eyes as her hands studiously drew the summoning sigils from memory with ease. Her stomach roiled.

As a student of the Light, the work she was about to engage in was against everything she stood for; everything that she had been taught. But as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures, and she needed help from the Other Side.

She pocketed the chalk then preceded to light a black candle at each point, before encircling the portal with an unbroken line of salt.

This was it.
No going back.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her sleeve, stepped into the center of the circle, and took a knee. Her hand stole beneath her skirts and between her legs; a quiet moan slipped her past lips as deft fingers slid between her folds to pull away with evidence of her arousal.

She stared at hand for a moment, and shook her head while her brain recalled a previous lesson of fear serving as a powerful aphrodisiac. Her wetness glistened in the moonlight that streamed in through the overhead windows.

In the following moment, her other hand unsheathed her ceremonial blade, and before hesitation could take root, she slashed her palm; lifeblood mixing in with her essence.
She winced as she reflexively closed her hand in an effort to stymie the pain, only to begrudgingly spread her fingers and press her open wound into the center of the circle.

Otherworldly energy swirled around her, and she began to chant.

This was beyond reckless.
Stupid even.

Performing the spell within the circle exposed her, made her vulnerable. It positioned her as bait within a trap that could very well ensnare her as well.

But the chance of allying herself with a powerful demon was worth the risk. She gripped her grandmother’s amulet and continued chanting with renewed focus.
The circle began to glow; white-blue at first, before transitioning to yellow-orange, then deep red.

Cyclonic energy took the form of wind gusts that whirled dust and debris that pricked at her face and exposed skin, threatening to break her concentration. Sweat beaded down her temple as she clenched her eyes tight and finished recanting the spell in low and steady tones.

Time seemed to contract before dilating, then came to an eerie and quiet pause. Atmospheric pressure froze her body in place, and she could feel her energy being siphoned out of her hand.

A figure began to take shape in front of her: all shadows, mist, and primordial energy. Even if she could move, she wouldn’t dare lift her head.

At least not yet.
Oh that is good. It definitely makes me want to know why she was performing the ritual. :)
 
OMG, I totally forgot this was put out. Thanks @DarkWarrioress and promises to do something tomorrow ... and thanks @SubzeroGirl for posting here to bring it back to my attention!

(And you can skip and do another one later Subzerogirl *smile* ... these should be fun to do and sometimes all our brains need a break!)
 
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Opposite Worlds

"The most exciting attractions are between two opposites that never meet."
~*~ Andy Warhol ~*~


~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
The mag-field was collapsing.

The entire city was on high alert ever since the warning sirens had sounded 3 weeks ago. Protective walls had been erected to slow the oncoming flood. Color-dimming googles were disseminated among the population ... along with sonic arrows. The arrows were the only known weapons that proved effective for underwater warfare.

Jax himself had been working nonstop for 12 hours in the vortex lab. There was a slim possibility that the mag-field could be powered back to full strength, though he knew he was working against the clock. Even now, the normally jet black tones of the mag-lev had started to fade. Jax calculated that at the current rate of degradation , the shield would come down within another 6 months. If that happened, the waters would come in. Followed by the Mariners.

The images of destruction and death filled his head as he worked. The stories he'd heard as a little boy came rushing back - warriors emerging from the floods, the color of death around them. It was said that the waters of their world ran red from the blood of their enemies. The pristine world he knew would be stained. Their water supply polluted, its citizens enslaved. Jax shook the images from his head and continued with his work.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~​

Leisha was trying to calm the members of the council. Most of the members were of the belief that the Top Dwellers were responsible for the disruption of the spell. The spell had been cast in place over a hundred years ago to keep their world safe from the ravages on the other side. The wars of the past had decimated the face of the planet. Radiation had effectively sterilized the surface, making it devoid of meaningful existence.

But exist they had. Using technology to keep them alive until they could once again steal the riches of their world. There had been instances in the past where attempts at breaking the spell were suspected. Tales of cold, colorless spots appearing on the spell often prompted the council to increase the strength of the color barrier.

A sudden rapid weakening of the spell was noticed several weeks ago, and no amount of magic seemed enough to reversed the effects. The Top Dwellers must have developed newer technologies. If they got through, the contaminants of the outside would damage the beauty of the lakes. The violence that they would bring would be unimaginable.

As Leisha was the junior-most member of the council, she was given the task of guarding the spell, buffering it every few hours.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~​

Another week had passed. Nothing Jax tried had slowed the mag-field degradation. The shield was beginning to grow fainter. He was tired and sat there, starting at the portal.

It was then that the movement caught his eyes. A shadow of some kind. They were on the other side, waiting to pour though into the city. Fear gripped Jax as he cried out in fear.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~​

Leisha was exhausted. She had tried every spell she could think of to buffer the protective colors. Nothing seemed to work. She watched the whole week as the hues drained from the protective barrier. She knew it was only a matter of time before the spelled was weakened to a point that it would be ineffective.

That's when she heard the awful wail. Her head snapped up as she tried to weave yet another buffering spell. That's when she noticed the silhouette of a man on the other side.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~​

"Why are you doing this," Leisha called out. "We have lived without war for decades."

She wasn't sure why she was trying to reason with the person on the other side. They wanted to take their world, and she could do nothing to stop it.

On the other side of the portal Jax realized the shadow had stopped moving. Perhaps they hadn't understood how close they were to talking down the mag-field. All he could do now was wait.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~​
After 2 days of waiting, both Jax and Leisha had come to understand that it was just the two of them on their separate sides of the portal. Each had been trying to shore up the barrier from their own sides.

Jax had briefed his government on what had transpired. Leisha reported to the council. Neither got anywhere. Each side distrusted the other. They were both ordered to continue to protect the barrier as best they could.

Over the ensuing days, the barrier got weaker. The black wall was almost completely faded on Jax's side. The rainbow hues of the spell were nearly drained on Leisha's end.

One day both woke to find a colorless barrier, wafer thin and barely holding.

Jax could only stare at Leisha as she peered back at him. This was the first time they had been able to clearly see one another.

By this time, both Jax and Leisha knew that neither side wanted a war, even if they couldn't convince anyone otherwise. No one else came to check the barrier, each side content at the moment to have the two monitor the barrier.

Time went by, and Jax and Leisha found that between them, between Jax's technological skills, and Leisha's spell casting, the thin layer could be kept stable.

Weeks passed. Then months. It was during this time that the two began to realize how much they depended on one another. No one believe them. They were left alone to guard the portal.

At some point they had grown closer, telling one another about their families, about their dreams, about their worlds.

Jax realized one day that he wanted very much to see what Leisha's home looked like. He had never seen the colors that she spoke of.

Leisha for her part was stunned by what the Top Dwellers had achieved with their technology. They had been able to make the air and water safe again. From what Jax had said, the building and dwellings were simple and utilitarian, however, the comforts were many, and it seemed an amazing world to her.

It was then that they realized that they had fallen in love. Unfortunately, they also knew that they could never meet and visit each other's world. The barrier prevented that.

"Leisha," Jax said one day. "What if we let it fall?"

"Fall? What do you mean?" she replied. "We've both been tasked with ensuring that the portal is never breached."

"But, what if it did fall? Who would know? No one else but you and I come here."

The pair thought on this. Days passed.

Finally Jax could take it no longer and begged Leisha to stop her spells. He'd already decided to shut down his side of the energy field. He already saw the mag-field powering down.

Leisha knew she couldn't keep the barrier up on her magic alone. She uncast the holding spell, allowing her side to fall.

Jax reached his hand through what was once the barrier. Leisha took his hand.

"What if we were wrong to do this," Leisha whispered.

"What if we were right?" Jax softly replied.

Jax knew the power down would alert his government. Leisha cast one last spell, sending a message to the council.

Together they waited, holding hands.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Short fiction and the novel, non-fiction and fiction, electronic texts and books - these are not opposites. One need not destroy the other to survive."
~*~ Celeste Ng ~*~
 
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Since this is Lit, I've switched it up a bit for those who might be into this....
And the other is a tree that caught my eye.

Enjoy.


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I missed the last one! I will do one for this. Thank you Darkwarrioress
 
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