dark

Six Word Story: Fate

Searched For Happiness; Found Only Chaos…

 

Prompt:

Saturday Six Word Story Prompt (6WSP) #7 – October 12, 2019

 

Image Credit – Mayank Kumarr

Twittering Tale: Their Culture

“Oh God! Are we really going there?”
Yup.
“You realise they are uneducated tribals right?”
Yes. Very little is known about them. We can learn and share their culture with the world.
*2 hours later*
“Is keeping us locked in cages a part of their culture?!”
So is cannibalism, I’m sure…


Character Count: 28

Prompt:

Twittering Tales #148 – August 6, 2019

Photo by David Reed

Manic Madness: Dark Vacation

It was summertime, and my vacations were on.

I decided to backpack across the country, visiting ghostly castles, wrecked towns and other places of historical importance. The last lap of my journey, before departing the country brought me to The Boondocks Bar and Inn. I had heard of the mysterious room 13. The stories said that many years ago, a witch lived in the room. Until one day, she was executed for her damned practices. The deadly witch had called out for Satan, even during her final confession. Everyone who lived there complained of an ominous presence. I wanted to experience it.

I entered the Inn and asked the forlorn faced innkeeper for room 13. The man looked at me stoically, handed me the key without any question and got back to listening to the dirgeful music playing on the radio.

I settled into the room, which looked quite well maintained for a supposed haunted room. I called in for dinner – a nice plate of fish and chips. Waiting for my food, I walked over to the dressing mirror. I stared at my reflection looking at my well known imperfections. My reflection stared back at me and winked. My heart skipped a beat as I remained frozen in place gawking at my reflection. Its mouth curled into a sultry smile, poison dripping out. It made a hushing gesture asking for silence. As scars appeared on its face, the reflection transformed into a scythe wielding reaper. The scythe slashed through the mirror, shattering it. The cold metal lodged itself in my chest, making me scream out in pain.

The knocking on my door brought me back to my senses. The mirror was unshattered as before. My reflection was behaving as it should. I opened the door to find the innkeeper holding a plate of fish and chips. I rejoiced inwardly. I began holding great reverence for the innkeeper for his timely arrival. He placed the plate on the table and smiled at me.
“Eat up. It will help reduce the pain in your chest.”

I noticed his smile was rather sinister….


Word Count: 350

Prompt:

Manic Madness

Okay, wow! 31 words!! This was quite a challenge set by Laura. I hope it has turned out well.

Happy reading! 🙂

Flash Fiction: Paddle

You sure there are no alligators here, right?

This question had begun to irritate me now. It was the fifth time in half an hour that I was being asked the same question. I assured my date once again, before she promptly went back to clicking selfies and her social media.

She was as much part of the date as the surrounding water was. She had zero interest in paddling or making conversation. I guess she asked me out only to get someone to paddle, while she clicked pictures. She had even kept aside her life-jacket so that she could continue flaunting her best features on social media.

Hey, my followers on insta are asking me about alligators..you are completely sure, right?

That was the last straw. This girl had driven me nuts. I pulled back the paddle and whacked her on her head with it. Down she went into the lake, phone and all.

The lake had no alligators, but I made no promises about crocodiles…


Word Count: 168

Prompt:

FFfAW Challenge #193

Haiku: Dark Beasts

Black Night Falls, Foul Beasts
Awaken, Blood Hued Eyes Stare,
Strike Terror in Hearts…


Prompt:

COLLEEN’S WEEKLY #TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 105, “COLOR & CREEPY,”

I chose Hue and Foul as synonyms for Color and Creepy..

Happy reading! 🙂

Flash Fiction: Another Dark Day

Nothing has changed today. It is just another dark day.

The temperature has dropped further as the town continues to receive stormy showers. The window of my bedroom has fogged up. This fog can be wiped off with a quick sweep of my hand. I wish removing the clouds in my life was as easy. Then again, not that it matters.

The rainy weather brings with it a fresh wave of gloom. In a life so dark, what difference does a few shades darker make? The rains may bring in the gloom, but that is not the only thing. He skips office, and stays at home. He makes me face the window, and forces his way inside. Initially, I used to say no, fight back even. Then, when he refused to stop and ignored how the torrents running down my cheeks reflected the weather outside, even I stopped trying, turned stoic. Here he comes again, I am already facing the window, watching the storm contrast my numbness.

Afterall, it’s just another dark day.


Word Count: 173

Prompts:

FFfAW Challenge – 182nd

Manic Mondays 3 way prompt – Stoic

Graveyard Walk

The moon observed the two friends as they crossed the cobbled street. In contrast to the white splendor of the moon, the two were clothed in dull, tattered garbs. They held on to each other for support as they hobbled along. The gaslights were the only source of illumination for the two, in these wee hours. The duo stopped in front of the cemetery.

“We are here, Harry.”

“Yes, we are, Don.”

Harry pushed open the gate. Don could see it was taking Harry a massive effort. He put his body weight against the door. With much effort, the two managed to get the rusted iron gate open. They stood at their spots for a couple of minutes, panting and wheezing. It was to be expected. They were not young anymore. Harry bent clutching his stomach and looked up at Don.

“That took a lot of gas. Shall we make a move?”

“We should. I feel so old.”

“Don, you are old.”

Don caught Harry’s eye and they burst out laughing. They stopped abruptly as soon as they heard their laughter echoing. They continued walking deeper into the graveyard, the ever-watchful moon illuminating the rough terrain in front of them. The two friends continued walking slowly. They peered at the names on the gravestones that lay on either side.

“You know Harry, I don’t remember the graveyard being so big. At least it does not look so big from the outside.”

“Your memory serves you well, old fellow. The war is the cause of the expansion.”

“Oh yes, we live in times of war. Brutal times, claiming the lives of so many.”

“They always have Don, they always have. Wars deplete lives and resources. Wow! All this walking is really killing me.”

“I think it is the lack of walking that is killing us.”

Harry chuckled.

Don placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Have we reached, yet?”

Harry looked around.

“Nah! These are old graves. The new ones are much further. Quit complaining and keep walking.”

Don grumbled. He hated walking. Harry on the other hand, quite enjoyed it. In all their many years of friendship, Harry had never once heard Don go on long walks without grumbling. So, he was quite used to it.

“Let’s go back Harry. I don’t feel like walking any more.”

“Stop being so cranky. You know this is important for me, important for us. We need to do it. Besides, both of us know very well, that after we reach you are going to think the long walk was completely worth it.”

Don ran his fingers through his white hair. He knew Harry was right. However, he enjoyed complaining to Harry. He found it entertaining. The two continued their ritualistic walk silently, pausing every few minutes to catch their breath. After a good ten more minutes, Harry stopped and looked around with a smile on his face.

“This is it, we are here.”

Don flopped on the ground.

“Finally! The torturous walk is finally over.”

Harry snorted.

“Enough of the complaining, Don. It is now time to enjoy.”

Harry walked to the nearest gravestone, the one to his left. Don got up to his feet and followed Harry. Harry bent down, looking at the gravestone and read aloud:

“Pvt. Timothy Douglas lies here. How does this Timothy Douglas sound like?”

Don rubbed his hands in anticipation.

“Sounds like a real fine treat.”

Harry bent down and began unearthing the grave.

“Well, thank heavens for wars. As long as men deplete each other, our kind will never have to go hungry.”

Don smacked his lips in response.

 

via Daily Prompt: Deplete