In His Arms

            The rain pattered against the windowsill so softly that it was like listening to the pitter patter of soft feline feet across a carpet. The bed was warm and I stretched out leisurely, my legs dangling off the bed and my finger tips grazing the dark leather of the headboard. The blankets felt like fluff and feathers against my skin, not stifling me and not letting the cold air in either. It was a Friday morning, and the sky outside, behind my curtains was gray and dark. It couldn’t be more than six in the morning.

            “Hey, Love.” His deep and soothing voice breathed against my ear as he wrapped his arm around my waist. I smiled and hid it under one of the blankets. All of the blankets were tangled among us in a comforting cocoon of bliss as we creaked our joints in an awakening ceremony. I looked over at him, to my right, and sleepily replied with a soft hello. He smiled and called me adorable and closed his coffee eyes while nuzzling into my neck. “What time is it?”

            Turning over to my left I flung my arms across the bed and stretched them out while looks at the glaring red numbers on my clock. Not able to keep them in focus, I shrugged and backed into him so that we were in a spooning position. His warm arm pulled me closer and he kissed the back of my neck, falling back to sleep.

            Sighing in content, I listened to the patter of rain as it hit the window and closed my eyes, imaging the future and hoping all would be as peaceful as it was now.

            The wind howled as the snow into the room. The window wouldn’t shut all the way so the room was getting colder as the night went on. Finally, in annoyance and exasperation, he got out of bed and pulled the curtain open. He then proceeded to open and reclose the window to try and get it to shut all the way to stop the snow from getting into the room. I had told him that I would switch him spots, so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it, but he said that he wouldn’t allow that.

            With a final tug at the window, it hit the wall and cracked. He stopped in shock and we both looked at it in slight fear, afraid that the whole window would now shatter into a million pieces and leave us running to sleep in the living room or bathroom.  It stayed, though, and we breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way back to the bed.

            “What strong arms you have,” I said, truly grateful for them.

            “The better to hold you with,” He smiled, pulling me against him under the blankets and kissing my nose. I giggled and kissed his lips. “What soft lips you have,” he whispered as he kissed me again.

            “The better to pleasure you with,” I whispered as I slid my hands down his stomach to thank him for fixing the window.

            “I hate apple pie,” I said as we sat in bed thinking over what to get for Thanksgiving, “So you can get it as long as you don’t expect me to eat any of it . . . And we get a pumpkin pie.”

            “You are so picky,” He grumbled as he jot down the rest of the grocery list. The smell of pumpkin spice was in the room as the scented candle melted away into the night. We were supposed to have a romantic evening, but had to scrap it once we realized that Thanksgiving was a week away and hadn’t gone shopping for it yet. My nightgown, which I had bought especially for that night was now covered by the blankets that I was using for warmth in place of him.

            He was running hot, so he wasn’t under the covers at all, taking the warmth of his body away from mine. And as he scratched his head, I knew that the evening was dead and laid back in bed, waiting for him to toss aside his list and forget about what tonight had originally been about. After watching him struggle to think of a few more food items, he tossed the list onto the nightstand to his right and blew out the candle.

            I sighed, greatly disappointed as he turned his back towards me. The smell of pumpkin spice filled the air and it comforted me as I struggled to keep myself warm under the thin blankets and try to hope that we could pick up our evening in the morning.

            “Shit! Shit! I forgot! Shit! I am so sorry!” He cried out as he pulled the covers off of me and hopped onto me.

            “What? What did you forget?” I asked, trying to sit up despite him holding my hips and neck down with his hands.

            “I forgot that we were supposed to celebrate moving in together! How could you let me forget? I’m so sorry, babe,” He smiled and kissed me. I smiled and kissed him back, glad that the night hadn’t been ruined.

            The heat in the room was stifling. The air conditioner was broken and the blankets had been kicked and thrown off the bed, as well as most of our clothes. It was too hot to even touch one another, too hot to talk, and too late in the evening to even try and find a solution to the draining heat. I laid in bed, sweating and feeling disgusted with myself. I always felt disgusting in the heat and it didn’t help now, especially when he kept saying how sexy I looked.

            I didn’t believe it, how could I? My hair was matted down in sweat, tangling together from my tossing it away from my neck and into a bun repeatedly through the night.  My skin was sweating and with sweat came dead skin just peeling off once the sweat dried. And then there was the smell! Sweat smells so bad.

            “Babe, you look beautiful. And I would show you how much I believe that—“

            “No! Too hot,” I groaned out, turning so that my back was too him. He laughed and stroked my back, causing my back to twitch a bit because it is my weak spot. He stopped laughing suddenly and left the bedroom, coming back with a tray of ice cubes.

            “I think I have a way to cool you down,” he whispered a bit mischievously as he ran an ice cube lightly across my neck.

            It was 3:15 am, and we were wrapped in the covers during another spring shower. I giggled as he made some sort of joke about how cute I was that he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have me. I hugged him close to me as my head rested on his chest and kissed under his chin.

            “I love you,” I laughed. He said he loved me too and asked what time it was. I shrugged and asked him if he had to go to work in the morning. He shook his head and said that the only thing he had planned for tomorrow was to marry me.

Taken Down For Editing

Challenge: write a story based off of a good dream
Feather's story has been taken down for editing

Challenge #19

The Challenge this week is to write a story based off of a good dream that you have had!

If you would like to join us for Fan Friday, by submitting art, a poem, a short story, or anything creative, please do! Send us your submission at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

See you all Wednesday!

Taken Down For Editing

The challenge is to write a story based around the element of water.
Feather's story has been taken down for editing

Sleeping with the Fish

1:15 am

            Johnny took point and led us through the warehouse in the meat packing district. Unfortunately for Harold, it was a fish packing warehouse and all those dead eyes stared at him like he was the one who had caught them and taken them from their homes. Harold had a thing about fish, a thing that made him uneasy. Their smell made him want to puke. Their sheen made him shiver all over like a ghost had passed through him. But their eyes, those eyes just reminded him of all those people he had killed.

            They had those glass eyes, those dead eyes that were soulless and devoid of personality. They held no emotions and those were the eyes of the people he had killed. Sure, they all had life in them before he had killed them, but it was their look afterwards that disturbed him, that still disturbs him. Harold can’t look at a person he has killed after he has killed them; he does his job and leaves as fast as he can. He doesn’t take pleasure in it, it’s just work. It’s just like the work him and Johnny are about to do, just like it.

1:45 am

            It took five minutes to chase little Georgie through the warehouse, and another ten to beat him senseless so that it was easier to tie him to a nearby chair. Harold ran back to the car to get the supplies. He was strong enough to carry it all himself, and it’s not like he wouldn’t have volunteered to go back to the car either. He would rather get fresh sea air than stay in that stuffy fish filled warehouse. But even then he couldn’t get Johnny’s kicks out of his mind. Johnny had some strange rituals he liked to perform on his victims, and those little fetishes made Harold sick to his stomach. It was bad enough that they were killers, but to actually take joy in the work? It made Harold look down the barrel of his shotgun every morning and wonder what it would be like in Hell that day.

            As Harold made his way back with the supplies, he could hear little Georgie screaming and he could hear Johnny laughing in a sick pleasure that made Harold sure that Hell would have been a good place to be at that moment.

3:00 am

            Johnny was sputtering and spewing curse words left and right. Harold’s face was set in stone as he lowered the bleeding, broken, middle-aged man into the burning cold of the sea below. Little Georgie shivered in the back of the backseat of the rusted blue 1984 chevy caprice. Harold had given him his coat and the kid looked like he belonged in the movie “The Thing”. Poor kid was battered and frozen from having been tossed around in the freezer. But Harold supposed that was the kid’s fault for hiding there.

            The cement hadn’t really hardened around Johnny’s legs. It was still a bit wet and Harold was sure that Johnny could get out of it if he kicked hard enough. Harold prayed that he wouldn’t kick hard enough. Now, either God wasn’t on Harold’s side, or he just didn’t pray hard enough, because Johnny got his legs free. He kicked against the wall and tugged at the ropes binding his arms, just another thing that Harold prayed would hold that didn’t. Johnny tried to fight his way back up the wall while Harold tried to lower more rope down.

            The rope had been tangled around his legs because he was freaking out over having betrayed Big Mitch, their boss. He should be lowering the kid down into the sea, not Johnny. That’s what Harold should be doing, but he snapped and freaked and now he had Johnny rising up to kill both him and the kid. The steam coming out of Johnny’s mouth, combined with the hellfire in the man’s eyes was enough for Harold to lose his grip on the rope. Thus, dropping Johnny into the sea, and dragging Harold along for the ride.

6:15 am

            Little Georgie was found by some fishermen. He had fallen asleep in the chevy and some cops were called. He told the cops his story and he was sent home to his parents. It seemed that Little Georgie would make his court date after all. Harold and Johnny slept with the fishes after that night, and Harold most likely thought, at the end, that it was definitely better seeing those dead eyes around him that watching the lights go out of his victims eyes.

Challenge #18

This last challenge for the Elemental Challenge is Water! The challenge is to write a story based around the element of water.

If you would like to join us for Fan Friday, please do! Send us something creative with this theme in mind at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

See you Wednesday!

Late Fan Friday Submission

The Fire Flickered

The fire flickered in the girl’s glaring eyes. She sighed heavily as she shifted her weight on the log she was sitting on.

The figure siting on the ground on the opposite side of the fire looked up and spoke. “Are you comfortable milady?”

“As comfortable as I’ll ever be,” she mumbled, still staring into the heart of the fire.

The figure tended to the fire in silence for a bit more, and then backed away from the crackling hearth, unconsciously put a hand around the hilt of his sword, and looked around into the encompassing darkness, scanning the boundary where light and shadow mingled for any hint of danger. Afterwards, he sat on his own log, opposite to the girl, who looked like she could collapse at any second under the strain of a world’s worth of troubles.

 “Milady, you mustn’t be so dour. You know as well as I that a negative attitude can only make an already arduous journey even longer.”

“It’d help if I knew when this ‘journey’ was actually going to end.”

The other figure simply sighed, and rather unconvincingly said “Well, you know as well as I that we shan’t be out here for much longer.”

The girl looked down at the ground, and sighed, exasperated at, it seemed, everything in existence. “Jonathan, we’ve been doing this for four years. They’re going to find us one of these days, and you’ll know what they’ll do when they-”

“Milady, please, stop. It’s not good to keep thinking that way. If you give up hope now, then fate really will abandon you. At the very least, trust that I can protect you.”

“But for how long? Calvin and James didn’t even make it out of the castle, and Frederick was killed not even a year ago.  What makes you think that you can continue to protect me on your own? It’s only a matter of time before, before-” The girl buried her face in her worn brown cloak, and started quietly sobbing. Jonathan got up, slowly walked over to the girl, and sat down beside her.

“Milady, as they died, your father and mother bid me to protect you. I shan’t break my vow to her to do so. You’re the rightful heir to the throne, and your people will need a ruler to lead them against those fiendish usurpers that that now subjugate the land.”

“The people? The people need me? What happened when I needed them? How many towns have we been cast out of, turned away because they were fearful of helping us? They were too afraid of somebody gutting them like a fish if they were known to be helping this pathetic excuse for a princess. The girl looked up at the fire again. A chill wind blew in, and it seemed to flicker more than ever. The umbra of night closed in around the tiny camp. She softly whispered, “I, I wonder if... if it’d be better for me to just throw myself into the fire, and save you the trouble of protecting me.”

Jonathan grabbed the girl’s hands.  The girl turned her dirty, tear streaked face towards her loyal guardian, and saw the refection of the fire glimmer off the tears running down his young, yet worn, battle-scarred visage. “Promise me you will do no such thing. Please.”

“Why? Why should it matter? You finally go back. You could live a proper life. You could-”

“Annette, I love you.”

Annette’s eyes opened wide and her mouth hung open. “Jonathan, what? I-”

“And if my love means anything to you, you will promise me that you won’t be so cowardly as to just discard your life as if no one values it. I’ve watched over and protected you since your fifteenth year, and being at your side every day for these last four years, I’ve...”

“Fallen in love with me?”

“Yes.”

 “Jonathan... I... Are you sure? It’s just... I’m an lowly exile with no shortage of assassins out for my head. What life we have left, it might not last long.”

Jonathan gently smiled. “My dear lady, would I have stayed by your side if I was not ready to meet that end? You know that I’d defend you to the very bitter end.”

Annette smiled, with tears in her eyes. “Thank you Jonathan. Thank you for loving me”

                Annette closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms tightly around Jonathan. The fell wind softened into a gentle zephyr, and the fire regained its full strength. As the perimeter of light grew again, an ever alert Jonathan looked behind Annette, and spied the barely visible toes of a pair of boots at the edge of the circle of light, with the equally visible end of a crossbow seemingly gloating a few feet above them. Jonathan lunged for the ground, taking a startled Annette, who was still wrapped around him. Not a moment after the sound of a bolt whizzed past them, Jonathan jumped up, drew his sword, and with a prayer on his tongue, he charged towards the shadowy assailant.

“Annette, stay safe.”

The fire, in his heart, and his eyes, began to blaze. He only hoped that it wouldn’t be abruptly extinguished by a bolt to the forehead.

-Josh (Jukebox)

Burn Me Up

They felt the surge, they felt the beat, and they felt the heat. They moved in sync with the music and with each other, like a well choreographed dance scene that one would see in a strip club. The only difference between this dance and a dance in a strip club is that, in a strip club, clothes would be taken off. Here, the bodies are packed together so tightly, and their clothes are so drenched in sweat, that the clothes stick to the body and all hands are on a person other than the body they belong to.

            And why are these bodies packed so tightly together, grinding and writhing in the hot dense air? Because they heard the call. They heard the call for fire to be built and for war to consume the world. This is their last night, the last night that they will ever feel this heat and this fire within themselves. Soon, hours from now, they will feel a different fire. A fire that will beg to be quenched in blood and not sweat as this one begs to devour.

            When this war is over, they won’t feel the fire as they feel it now, they won’t feed their lusty desires in this den of sin. Instead, they will dance on the bones of their conquered enemies in the cold winter that they can’t stand and will cry out in pain from the bones piercing their bare feet and the frozen air burning their lungs in a way that they are not used to. This war will give them the earth that was meant for the humans and put their prince at ease. They will no longer have to cower in the sight of God and his angels, because they have won.

            The fire that burns them now will be nothing like the fire that will burn them once they reach their final destination. It will be a splendid affair that will leave them gasping for flesh and carnage, but it will not be quenched. They will never be quenched because a fire can do nothing but consume, and they bathe in what is unquenchable. 

The Spark: Part 2

Ayla’s hand hovered in front of Shane’s face, afraid to make contact. She had never seen a creature like this. All she knew was her cloud, not this strange place that she now found herself in. Before her hand could touch his face, Shane’s eyes flew open. His eyes were ablaze and fire danced on the tips of his fingers. Ayla jumped back from the flame, while Shane jumped up. The flame went out and all that was left was a small wisp of smoke. “I’m sorry! I..I didn’t mean to.. you kinda startled me.” He said. Ayla stared at his hands in wonder. “What is that?” She asked, eyes wide with wonder.
“It’s fire.” He said. He ran a hand through his hair. “I..I can control it. It’s kind of a long story.” He held out his hand. “My names Shane.” He announced with a small smile.
Ayla cocked her head and stared at his hand wondering what she was supposed to do. “Oh right I forget you’re not from around here are you?” He asked. Ayla looked around his yard. The grass was the color between winter and spring. It wasn’t completely yellow nor was it completely green.
“Where is around here?” She asked. He smirked. “Welcome to earth!” He knew it was going to take awhile to explain all of this. “Uh maybe we should go inside. You and I aren’t the most normal people on the block.” He advised. He grabbed his key from his back pocket and unlocked the door. “I promise no harm will come to you.” He said, seeing the worry on her face. She followed him inside. “I’m gonna go grab an ice pack, because wow my head hurts.” She looked down, ashamed. “Sorry.” She whispered. He laughed. “It’s okay, if I were in your position I would have knocked me out too.”
Ayla looked around the living room. It was bright thanks to the windows and there were shelves and shelves of things she’d never seen before. “What are those?” She asked Shane once he was back in the room. An Ice pack rested against the side of his head. “Oh those are books. Don’t worry I’ll tell you all about books!” He promised. Settling in the seat next to her, he began to tell her all about Earth. Ayla couldn’t help but interject with questions. She had so many that she was afraid Shane wouldn’t be able to answer them all. But one after another he did. “So those are cars. Before I continue..I have to ask. Where were you born?” Ayla looked up toward the ceiling, wishing she could see through it to look at the sky.
“I come from the clouds. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known.” She looked down again, remembering the sky and suddenly she felt a pull in her chest. She missed it so badly. “I really miss it.” She confessed.
“I’m sure you do.” He said. He wanted to reach for her hand, but thought better of it.
“Where do you come from?” She asked. He gulped and looked down. “I..come from somewhere very different than you. I am from the ground below. I was born in the center of the earth.” He replied. “How..how did you get to earth though?” She asked him. He scrunched his face as if the subject made him uncomfortable. “I don’t remember much. But the one thing I do remember Is coming from the volcano. Before I came to the surface my skin was..almost like rock and instead of blood flowing through my veins it was lava. I have no idea why I’m like this now..so close to being human yet so far away.” He said with a sigh. “I mean look at you. When you fell into my arms you were light as a feather-no even lighter. But on the way here you became as heavy as any regular girl. Your hair is become much duller too.” He pointed to her long strands of hair. They were no longer the bright white, but now more of a light blonde color. She looked at it, tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t want to change. I want to stay the way I am.” She said. Shane gave her a comforting look. “I know..I’m sorry. This is why I have so many books. I’ve been trying to find out why I am the way I am. So far I haven’t found much. But maybe you can help me.” He said. “I think..in some ways we’re the same. We both come from different places, we both have special abilities. Maybe we can help each other find out who are. I can help you learn more about earth.” Ayla nodded. “Okay. I can help as much as I can, but how long am I going to be here for?” She asked. “I came to earth when I was six years old. I’ve never been able to get back.” He said. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
“But I want to go home.” Shane lifted his hand to wipe the tear away, but it became steam when in contact with his touch. He quickly pulled his hand back. “I’m sorry.” He said.
“I want to go home too..but I think the only way we can do that is if we figure out who we really are and why we’re here.” He proclaimed. “Also I never got your name.” He said. She smiled some. “My name is Ayla.” He smiled back, once again holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you Ayla. So here on earth you take my hand and shake it.” She did just that. Her hand felt strange inside of his, like it was being sucked in. Shane pulled away quickly noticing it also. “I’m sorry.” He said. “It’s okay.”
“I promise we’ll figure this out. You and Me. Fire and Air.” She smiled, happy that she could at least hope for something. “Okay Shane, now tell me more about Earth.” She said. He once again began the conversation. “Ah yes, Earth. Have I told you about Food yet?” 

Challenge #17

Our third element is . . . . FIRE!!! We will be writing stories revolving around the element of fire. If you would like to join us for Fan Friday, please do! Poems, stories, art, whatever creative path you choose! Just send it to us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

See you Wednesday!

FAN FRIDAY

Taken down for editing.

Challenge: Write a story based off of the element of air.

Ink's story has been taken down for editing.

The Spark: Part 1

Ayla was born in a cloud. The moon was bright that night and a single shooting star had flown past. The dust settled on the cloud and Ayla was born.  Her hair was long and white; her skin was pale and almost translucent. But the most striking feature about Ayla was her eyes. They were the lightest shade of blue, even lighter than the sky on the most perfect day. The only thing Ayla had ever known was the sky around her. The breeze moved her and she danced from one cloud to another. She was a clever girl and always knew when to leave a cloud before it turned into a storm. But today she forgot to move before the storm came in. She danced and giggled and floated through the air, until she landed on a dark grey cloud. Gasping, she jumped off. All the clouds in the sky were turning the same grey color and suddenly she could electricity in the air. When the lightening hit her skin, it surged all throughout her body. It burned inside her chest until she opened her mouth to scream, and with that scream the lightening escaped. Her eyes drifted shut and she fell. Her body soared down towards the earth below, her hair flying all around her.  The wind threw her all around, but Ayla’s eyes remained closed.

Ayla’s body floated closer the ground below, but nobody noticed. To them she was just another breeze in their familiar windy city. But Shane noticed her. He glanced back and forth, but no one else could see what he saw. He always knew he was a bit different, but he didn’t know exactly how much.

 He ran to her. He pushed pedestrians out of the way, he practically jumped over a kid on a bike, and just barely slid through oncoming traffic. The looks he received were not uncommon, but he didn’t care. She was falling faster now and he was the only one who could save her. Shane outstretched his arms waiting for the impact of her landing, but there was no impact. She simply settled into his arms and felt even lighter than a feather. People around him gasped, gawking at him. Her skin which looked so transparent and luminous before was now a pale peach color just like real human skin. But Shane realized that wasn’t what they were gawking at. In his arms he was holding a pale naked girl who appeared out of nowhere. He gently lowered her to the ground, taking his jacket off to cover her.
“Is..is she okay?” A women who he hadn’t noticed before was standing above them. He turned to look up at her. “I’m not sure.” He replied. He could see she was breathing, her chest slowly rising and falling underneath his jacket. Her white hair was strewn all around her and Shane couldn’t help but think of how much she looked like an angel.
“What is she?” The women whispered, almost too afraid for the answer. Shane took a deep breath before answering. “She’s a girl, that’s what she is!” He picked her up again; making sure her tiny body was covered up. The women looked at him like he was crazy. More and more people were drew in by curiosity. They were staring at him with angry fearful eyes. They didn’t know what she was, but they knew what he was. They thought he was some kind of freak, maybe a rapist. Before their minds could fester on even worse things Shane did the only thing he could do. He ran. Gripping her tight he ran past pedestrians with shocked expressions, jumping over a beat up mail box, turning the corner until he was out of sight. He didn’t stop running until he reached his house. 

He was panting on his steps, the girl was no longer lighter than a feather. Her weight was that of an average teenage girl and his arms struggled to hold her. Her eyes were still shut, but he made sure she was still sleeping. “Wake up!” He begged. “Please wake up. I don’t know who you are, but you have to wake up.” He shook her limp body gently. A light breeze began to pick up and it swirled around them. Her hair moved with it and her eyes shot open. Her eyes were so bright, the brightest blue he had ever seen and then she was gone. His arms were empty, but for the old leather jacket. The breeze turned into a huge gust of wind, knocking him back against the porch railing. His head collided into the metal and the last thing he saw before the world went black was her hair swirling around her and her bright blue eyes wide with fear.

To Be Continued in next week’s challenge

Challenge #16

This week's challenge is to write a story based off of the element: Air!

If you would like to submit something creative, please do! Send it to us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

See you all soon!