Fire Fight

The sun spits on the Earth and the humans react by shredding one another apart. Resources dwindle, homes are destroyed, loved ones lost, and yet the only thing that matters is who has control of the board. Who cares about the starving child on the street, the millions hospitalized from the flares, or the loss of oxygen and water when the board is what matters?

Fifty years of attacks from the solar system, and what do the humans care about? My commander had the right idea before he died from The Sandstorm of 4080. Hoard what you can underground, and hide. The upper world was a scorched patch of skin that was beyond being saved, the lower world was the darkness that everyone feared would be all they would see after they died. We are ants, and our queens demand the blood of invading vermin.

The tunnels intersect and it is impossible to tell what belongs to who, even if you know how to get to Bazaar Central to Cascade Cavern, the simplest route that leads from the outside world to the market city, you could find several tunnels leading to and from hundreds of citadels. Few live on the upper world now, and if they do, they do so to get away from the wars in the tunnels. They are deserters who would rather face death in a free world, than face death in a corrupt one. I wish I had joined my commander when he left. He had this idea that war was never ending. I didn't see it before, but now I do. The flames on the upper world match the intensity of the battles in the tunnels.

At first, everything was fine, protect each man, woman and child for the greater good. And then people started fighting over territory. Not food, water, or something essential. No. The war started over who was allowed to step where.

As a soldier in the United Americas Military, I know I should protect our territory to the last breath, that is my mission. But how many wars have I seen through the pages of a history book where bloodshed is started over stupid shit. It is man's right to find happiness, and yet we are forced into peril with no ray of light in sight. Banished from the green fields by God Himself and sent to the pits of the abyss, we have been forsaken. If religions were still practiced freely, I am sure I would be praying for forgiveness with them. May this war underground end. May we find the ability to care more about life than territory. May we find peace in this never ending cycle of destruction.

War In The Year 3030

The ticking of the machines were so loud they could be heard from a mile away.
“This isn’t going to be easy. Those bastards have re-formulated their ships, and I’m not sure if these will do the trick.” Our commander points to the explosives nearby. I take a deep breath and swallow the fear that surges up within me.
“After we send these their way, we’re going to have to come in on foot. All our Saber Bikes have been disabled.” He says glancing to the pile of rubble that used to be our Bikes.
“Now are you with me?!” He says his voice rising.
“Aye Sir.” We all say in unison.
“No, I said ARE YOU WITH ME?” He says his voice booming over the small army of us.
“AYE SIR!” We yell back at him.
“LET’S GO!” We each grab an explosive pack and turn it on, sending it towards the machines. They fly off into the air, their trackers focused and ready.
                We patiently for the booms, but nothing happens. “Sir, something isn’t right.” I say a bad feeling creeping up my spine. The commander glances at me and I can the doubt in his eyes. But before he can respond the explosives are flying back at us. I barely have time to snap on my teleportation unit. It takes me a good couple feet away from the explosion but I can still feel the heat. Hundreds of screams echo out from the fire as I lay in the rocks, my face and arms cut open from my landing. I stand up and look to where the Army is burning. I am shocked and I feel so sick that I might throw up. My legs go weak beneath me and I fall to the ground.
                “NOOOOO!!” The piercing scream finds its way out of me. I’m on my knees, my sobs coming in waves. This isn’t the first time this has happened to me. History just seems to repeat itself.

                I have been in many wars throughout my lifetime. This war is the worst one of them all, because it involves the Oyers. The Oyers are a mutant species from another planet, they invaded our planet two years ago and they just keep killing. Killing and taking. It’s what they do best. There was nothing our planet could do to stop them. They were just too advanced with their technology. Here I am again watching another one of my squads die and there’s nothing I can do to change it.
                               

The machines are getting closer now, and I pick myself up from the ground. A ferocious anger builds inside me and I grab my gun. I stomp my way toward the direction of where the machines are coming and plant myself still, waiting for them to come. I brace myself and take a deep breath. No more running from death, it’s time to face him head on.
                The machine finally makes it’s way around the corner and I stand there unmoving. The machine is like a giant mechanical animal, stopping to stand right in front of me.
“I challenge you!” I announce into the open air. My voice sounds weak.
“I CHALLENGE YOU, I know you are in there, operating this big piece of scrap metal. I know you could kill me now, but where’s the fun in that eh?” I say louder this time, my voice more confident. I grip my gun tightly in my hand. The top of the machine swivels open and out steps an Oyer. They look almost identical to us, except where my skin is blue theirs is a pale tan white color. Where I have deep black pits for eyes they have pupils. “Give up now, and maybe we will let you live.” The man says. He wears a uniform with a flag on it. The flags colors have red white and blue and in the middle is the planet that they come from. Planet Earth.
“I’m not afraid of you!” I reply, raising my gun.
Oyer in our language translates to human.
“I’m sorry, I really am.” He says and suddenly the machine raises it’s large canon at me and fires. 

Challenge #89

Hey guys! The challenge for this week is to write a story that is set in the future during a war.

If you would like to join us for fan friday you can write a story, draw a picture, make comic whatever you want. Email us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com

Enjoy!

The Queen Bitch

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Long straight black hair and bright blue eyes, with a mischievous smile on my face. The outfit I’m wearing is bold and sexy, short dress with platform heels.
I grab my purse and keys and turn one more time to check myself out in the mirror. I’m going to light it up today.
                When I get to the studio the photographer’s jaw almost drops. “Darling you look stunning! Who did your hair and makeup today?” He asks. I laugh a little. “I did, you know I have more talent than just modeling right?” I say. He gives me a little smirk before clicking the keys on the computer.
He brings up the shots from yesterday’s shoot. It was Halloween themed and I was dressed up like Medusa. “Amazing as always Clyde.” I tell him. We go through each shot analyzing them together, when my phone starts buzzing from my person.
                I dig it out and see whose calling. Boy Toy #1 as expected. “Hello handsome.” I answer.
“Hello yourself sexy.” He says back. I smile and give Clyde a wink as he shakes his head.
“What are you doing tonight?” He asks me, the desperation in his voice strong. I pause for a bit before speaking. “Honey you know I’m a busy women, tell me something that’s going to make me want to see you.” I say with such fierceness in my voice you could have called me the Queen Bitch. He doesn’t say anything at first. “I don’t have all day lover boy.” I tell him.
“Well how about you and me at Club Ice? Drinks, a little dancing, and maybe something fun afterwards, if you catch my drift.” He says. I’m practically asleep at this point. “Boring, sorry sweetheart, but that just doesn’t cut it with me.” I say and hang up the phone.
                “You are so harsh darling.” Clyde tells me, not looking away from the screen.
“No, I’m just truthful. I go to the club almost every night and he thinks that’s special? Please.” I laugh. Clyde laughs with me. “I need someone who will take me on a wild ride.” I say. Clyde looks up at me from the computer. “What exactly is your take on a wild ride?” he asks one eyebrow raised. I smile at me. “Well first off we need a man with muscles who definitely owns a motorcycle. He doesn’t come swooping in with flowers or shit like that, no he just shows up and tells me to hop on. Then he takes me somewhere completely off the grid and by that I mean somewhere dangerous and off limits, no trespassing allowed. When we get there we find a nice spot and just start going at it. Hot and dirty sex with my sexy muscle man. When we get finished I’ll tell him to close his eyes, saying I have a surprise. That’s when I’ll sneak out the back, steal the motorcycle and drive off into the sunset all on my own!” I say. Clyde is staring at me with an amused expression.
                “Darling, you are one bad bitch.” He says. I smirk at him. “I know.”

Stilettos and Scotch

            I am the woman that mothers warn their good boys about. I am the woman that bad boys drool and fumble over. I am the woman that could make an angel fall and a demon crawl. Long dark ringlets frame my sun kissed skin, my golden orbs swallow your soul, and my rose petal lips are mine to use to savor the taste of your sweat and blood.

            Tonight I walk out on the town. The only bar awake at this hour, one that plays live music till the wee hours of the morning, is the only place to have fun this night. And this night, fun will be had. My six inch stilettos walk on the ghosts of those who have fallen in my wake as I make my way there, the music thundering ahead of me as a procession to my coming.

            As I enter the dim lit building, red and white lights flashing and swaying in ways that make it obnoxious to even have your eyes open, Sunglasses at Night goes through my head and I wonder if I should have brought my sunglasses with me. But then I make eye contact with the bartender, tilt my head as if I am looking down on him, and he licks his lips and smiles in a sheepish way and waves me over.

            “Can I buy you-I mean, get you-I mean,” He fumbles. It’s perfect.

            “Scotch.” I smirk and trace my finger along his. He gulps and laughs in a way that makes me think of Dopey.

            My drink get to me before anyone else gets theirs, and I walk away. I don’t hear him holler for the cash, I do hear someone demand they get their damned drink. Drinking the scotch at the edge of the crowd, watching the band, I wonder if there is a point to toying and taunting. And then I make eye contact with the bass player, and he misses a note. I smile into my glass. There is a point.

            Before the bar closes, before the band leaves, I get my entertainment. The bass player fumbles his moves and is in shock at how bad he is doing at his best act. I take control, make him mine, I make him pur and keen and ask for my contact information afterwards. I give him the e-mail of the dominatrix agency I work for, the number is for the phone sex business I work under, and I give him the address to a porn shop I frequently go to.

            He was fun, but I want a real man.

Challenge #88

Sup!

The challenge for this week was to write a story as your alter ego! If you would like to join us for this challenge, please do! Send us your own work for Fan Friday to inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

Catch ya later!

Below The Surface

I sit in the bath tub letting the warm water relax my body. It’s been awhile since I’ve taken a bath, especially one like this. I used to hate taking baths as a kid. Strange to think of how much I depend on them now.  As the steam rises up from the tub I take a deep breath. I reach over to the corner of the tub where I keep my cigarettes and lighter.   Grabbing the box in my hand, I take a peek inside. All that’s left is one cigarette and it seems fit considering the circumstances.
                I light up the cigarette and inhale the sickly sweet nicotine, my last cigarette for my last bath. 
After taking another long drag I dip the tip of the cigarette in the bath water and listen to it hiss. Closing my eyes I take one last breath before going under the water.
                I stay like that for a long time until my body begins to sink further and further down. The shooting pain comes now like millions of pin pricks all across my skin. I can’t help but thrash around in the dark water. As many times as I’ve done this I never get used to the pain. My lungs feel like they are about to burst when suddenly I break to the surface. I am no longer in my apartment bath tub in San Francisco, and no longer am I twenty-four years old.
                I am in Maine, in my old home with the claw-foot bath tub. Bubbles upon bubbles surround me as I sit in the warm water. I am six years old. My beautiful mother is sitting on the bathroom room floor right up against the tub and she’s reading me a story.
                “And the King said to the Queen ‘We only have four days left till the celebration! We must prepare at once.’ Away they went gathering supplies.” I smiled, the child-like innocence filling within me like it always does. Only this time it was bittersweet. I look down at the bubbles and start playing with them. My mom stops in the middle of the story. “Sweetie what’s wrong? I thought you loved this story?” A twinge of panic goes through me as I realize I’m not acting how I should.
“It is my favorite Momma! I’m sorry I promise I’ll pay attention.” I say. When you go to the past there are things you can’t mess with, especially with a time zone as sensitive as the one I’m in.
“Alright then, one more chapter and it’s off to bed. Don’t want you turning into a raisin now do we?” She says smiling at me. It breaks my heart into a thousand pieces, but I just smile back and laugh.
                She keeps reading me the story and I wish it didn’t have to end. I can’t leave this bathtub, or else I’ll be stuck in the past doomed to relive my life again. I’ll have to watch my mother die all over again, and it’s the one thought that keeps me from getting out of this tub.
“And they all lived happily ever after, The End.” The story ends just like it always does, with a happy ending. But not for me, I have to go back to a future without my mother in it.
“Thank you for reading me my story Momma!” I tell her. “Can I have my special towel tonight?” I ask her. It’s the same thing I’ve always asked every time I come here.
“Of course sweetie, let me go grab it okay?” She says. I think of the bright green towel with the frog on it. It was one of my favorite things as a child and my nostalgia gets the best of me.
                I take a deep breath and plunge beneath the surface of the bubbles, holding my breath until I feel my body begin to sink. Farther and farther it goes and I brace myself for the pain. Only it doesn’t come this time, I feel only a cold chill. I begin to panic underneath the water, wondering why I’ve never felt this sensation before. Suddenly I’m rising to the surface fast than I ever have before.
                Strong hands pull me to the surface as I cough and gag for breath.
“SUMMER?! Are you okay? SUMMER?” I open my eyes to find someone I’ve never met. A handsome stranger who is holding my naked body. I stare at him with fear in my eyes.
“What the hell were you doing?” He asks me. I don’t answer; I just keep staring at him as the realization dawns on me. I’ve done something wrong to the chain of time. Something was changed, somehow someway and now a stranger whom I’ve never met is in my house.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asks me with concerned eyes. That’s when I know he’s not just any stranger; he’s a stranger who’s in love with me. But what did I do wrong? What did I change? I think back to what I might have done and that’s when it hits me. I always told my mother I loved her, before she went and grabbed my special towel. I didn’t say it this time, I was too wrapped up in having to say goodbye to her forever. My heart aches from the knowledge that I’ll never get to tell her I love her again. Suddenly I’m crying and my handsome stranger is there, helping me out of the bath tub, wrapping me in a warm towel.
                “Shhh it’s okay Summer. I’m here okay? I’m here.” He comforts me. I knew it was stupid messing with the past, but somehow with my handsome stranger holding me, It doesn’t feel like it was a mistake. It almost feels like it’s meant to have happened. That’s when I look down and see I’m wrapped up in a lime green towel with little frogs on it. 

Timewave

Leslie jumped from the table, a mouse scuttling past her legs as she made the drastic dive. Her head hitting the edge of the blue cupboard and knocking her unconscious. The television blared in the background about the first black president of the United States being elected.

Waking up a few hours later, at least to Leslie's perception, she found herself with a massive headache and in a cold and dark meadow. Looking around, she wondered if someone had thought she were dead, and decided to just dump her body somewhere instead of calling the cops. Rubbing her head and getting to her feet, she made her way through the woods, hoping to find a hiking trail, a bike path, or even a road that would take her back to civilization.

After almost two hours, Leslie started to panic. What if there was no road for more miles than she could walk? What if she had been going in the wrong direction? Should she have waited for daybreak? Shaking her head, she knew that freaking out would do her absolutely no good, and she sat down on a nearby boulder. And that's when she heard the shuffling footsteps coming from the direction she had been coming from.

originally she had thought that it had been the wind, or her own fears lurking in the back of her mind coming out to hound her at the worst possible time. But as she slowly turned her head towards the sound, she realized that her prayers might be answered. A warm and hazy light was permeating through the darkness of the entangled tree limbs that she had been fighting tooth and nail to get through. Standing, she called out, a nervous and hopeful smile splayed across her lips as she did so.

The smile dissolved, however, when she saw a lithe and muscular man step through the trees, wearing a loincloth. Fumbled words passed her lips as grunts passed his. Stepping away, she bumped into another man who had stepped up from behind her as silently as a spider climbs its way onto a hand. Turning abruptly to face him, she found a club hitting her head and an enveloping blackness welcoming her back.

The next time Leslie awoke, she was in a barn. Hay stuck to her hair and clothes as if she were a human scarecrow. Climbing out, she made her way out of the hay and the barn, slowly, remembering the men from the woods. Finding a farmhouse outside, she instantly recognized it as her great-great-grandparents farm. Meaning the the barn she had woken up in was the house her parents had remodeled before she was born after the farmhouse had been eaten by termites. Leslie only recognized the house from pictures, and as she continued to stare in disbelief, she saw her ancestors come out of the house and head towards the barn. their hands together and a bucket of something in each hand, she felt light-hearted to see the couple so happy.

And then she realized that she had possibly gone insane, or somehow traveled through time. Either way, the last time she had interacted with someone, it had ended with her getting knocked unconscious. Stepping backwards and attempting to turn and run, she tripped over herself and hit her head against a wooden fence that kept the pigs in during the winter.

Hearing sirens, Leslie awoke and felt her eyes water from the bright light in the ambulance. She didn't move or speak, afraid that if she tried to do anything, she would be sent hurtling through time to just get knocked out over and over again through all of eternity. The ambulance driver asked the other EMT if they were going to vote for Barack Obama the next day. The EMT shrugged and said it would be interesting to be a part of history. The first black president of the United States of America was a pretty big part of history, according to him.

Challenge #87

Hey guys I'm sorry I uploaded this challenge a little later than intended.
But! The challenge for the week is to write a story that is set in the past.

This could be your own past or a completely fictional past its up to you!

If you would like to submit a story you can email us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com

thanks everybody!

Thirteen Teacups

My grandmother was an eccentric old lady. Her house was filled with all kinds of crazy things. For example she had a taxidermy squirrel dressed in a tuxedo. His name was Herbert.
                But the one thing that really intrigued me as a kid was these thirteen teacups that she had lined up. They were all numbered too, with each number uniquely and delicately painted on.
One day I asked my grandma about them.
                “Grandma, why do you have these?” I asked. Out of the things my grandmother owned, these were the things that peeked my interest.
“Samantha do not touch those! They are very delicate.” Was all she said to me. Over the years I would bring up the question and I would always got the same response no matter what age I was.
               
                But today I am staring at a box with my name on it, and my Grandma’s Will rests in my hands.

“Samantha as you know these teacups are very special to me. I know that you will take great care of them. But you have to make me a promise. The first Friday the 13^th that these cups are in your possession you must start a tradition. You must drink a special kind of tea in the first cup on midnight the first Friday the 13^th that you have these. Then the next time you must do the same, but with cup number two. So on and so forth. Now you may be wondering why I am asking you do this and what it all means. But I promise you that if you do this, you will start to notice changes in your life. Changes that are amazing and unbelievable. Please Samantha I know you will not let me down. I love you so much my darling little girl.”

                I stare at the paper, reading the paragraph over and over. It makes absolutely no sense what so ever. But yet my curiosity gets the best of me.
I grab the box and lug it up the stairs to my crappy little apartment. I carefully set the box down and open the door. I peer down at the box with my name on it, excited to open it and investigate.
                When I get inside I set the box down on my tiny kitchen table and open it very carefully. On the top of the box is a piece of paper with a ‘tea’ recipe for Moonbrew Tea. It’s the weird tea that I apparently have to drink out of each cup. I go down the list reading each ingredient. There are cloves and peppermint, cinnamon and licorice root and orange peelings. It sounds like a strong flavored brew, but delicious as well.
                I carefully grab the first cup I see that’s wrapped in bubble wrap. Taking my time I carefully unfold it to find one of my favorites. It’s the number 6 cup, with its dark midnight blue and swirling gold design. I stare at it for a moment as the nostalgia of the item washes over me.
I remember days when I would visit my grandma and my eyes would always drift to this cup.
I sigh before setting the cup down. I can’t help but miss my grandma as I go through each and every cup, remembering the designs and wishing I knew what they meant.
               
                After I unpack all the cups I go to my calendar to find when the next Friday the 13^th will be. Goosebumps travel up and down my arms when I see that the next Friday the 13^th is next Friday.
I get that weird feeling in the pit of my stomach when something weird and unexplainable happens, and all I know is I can’t wait to find out what this all means.

-The first Friday-

I am giddy the whole day at work, just watching the clock and waiting till I can go home. The ingredients for the tea are all waiting for me at home along with the first tea cup.
“You are acting weirder than usual today. Must be because it’s the 13^th.” My coworker jokes.
I smile at her. “Yeah well you know it’s a weird day.” I say.
“It’s only weird if you make it weird.” She says. At that exact moment the power goes out in the office. 

                They send us home for the day, unable to fix the power problem. I am so excited that I practically speed on my way home.
I get everything set up for that night, hoping that something magical will happen. The first cup sits on my table with a bright number one painted on the side. As the clock ticks closer and closer to midnight I begin brewing up the tea. The wonderfully spicy smell fills my whole apartment and I smile as it already begins to soothe me. I bring my old tea pot over to the table and fill the tea cup. My grandmother never said anything about a special chant, or anything else I had to do while drinking the tea. I put on my favorite Fleet Foxes album and sit back and relax in the chair.
                I take a sip of tea just as the clock strikes twelve, waiting for something to happen.
I take a couple more sips of the tea, which tastes delicious, and I look around my apartment. I’m expecting something amazing and wonderful to happen, but nothing does. So I just keep sipping my tea and listening to my music. Maybe this whole thing is a silly game my grandma made up to trick me, but even if it is I don’t mind because I’m suddenly the most relaxed I’ve ever been.
               

The next morning I wake up well rested and happy. The sun barely peeks in through my curtains.
I get out of bed and open the curtains to find a one hundred dollar bill stuck to my window, flapping in the wind. My spine tingles as I stare at the bill. A small gasp escapes me before I open the window and quickly grab the money. I stare at it dumbfounded as if it must be fake. But it looks like it’s the real thing and I hold it close to my chest smiling. The first cup of tea has done its job and I can’t wait to see what the next twelve cups brings me. 

The Escape

            The seven houses looked down on the river. I looked up at them, every morning, hoping to live in just one of them when I grew up. The brick, the ivy-covered, the white stone and the wood; each house was an amazing work of art that I wished to be a part of.

            My own home, a trailer on the other end of the city, dust covered and practically dilapidated, housed me for my whole life. For thirteen years I lived there with my father, a man who drank frequently and conversed rarely. A dreary and hopeless life is what I was given, and I wanted more. Thankfully, on the twenty-second of July, I met a girl named Naomi.

            Tall like the houses that looked down on the river, long brown curls that reminded me of the waves in the river, and gorgeous green eyes like the ivy on some of those houses; I found her to be perfect. She found me to be entertaining and a drastic change from her usual crowd. But after telling her my dreams and after helping her with hers, she eventually helped me with mine. She helped me get through high school, especially Science class. She was a genius when it came to chemistry and the combining of molecules. It all just seemed like numbers and letters to me that didn’t mean a thing.

            She was my best friend.

            Seven years after we met, after we became friends, we moved in together at the 22^nd St Apartments. They were on a hill that let us see the seven houses overlooking the river, if we squinted really hard. Thirteen years after that, after getting our degrees from college and getting work, we scraped our money together and got a house on the river, we could see the backyards, or at least try to, of the houses overlooking the river. Those seven houses stayed out of my reach, but when Naomi passed away when our child turned seven, the seven houses didn’t matter anymore. I buried her on the twenty-second of July, and I escaped with her thirteen years later.

Challenge #86

Hey all!

The challenge for this week is to write a story that incorporates either your lucky numbers, or your favorite numbers.

If you would like to join us with a piece of your own work, please do! Just send us your work via e-mail at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com for Fan Friday!

See you later on Wednesday!

It's called a Trap

            Looking through the bushes, I can see them. The tall ones that walk on two legs, sometimes four, sometimes, they have multiple limbs made of metal, and that is really freaky. They come in different sizes, colors, and their fur changes in different ways as well. But they are all the same. I have seen what they have done to my kind.

            When I was just a hatchling, I saw the small ones throw stones at my family. When I was old enough to fly, I saw the elders release their house trained flea bags on my brothers and sisters, laughing as they pounced and chewed. When I became old enough to build my own nest, men and women continued to chop down the trees I made my home in. The last one, a few days ago, when it dropped, left me crippled due to a branch crushing my left wing.

            Watching them, I can see them laugh and smile, I wish I could see them suffer as I have.

            “Aw! Poor birdy,” I jump at the sound behind me, I look back and try to fly away, but the pain is too much and I end up hopping onto my chest. I can feel the stubby little fingers pick me up, and lift me into the palm of their hand. The fingers stroke my back, and it is comforting and disgusting at the same time. I’m scared and angry. I don’t want to die.

            I’ve been captive for a month now. They have me in a cage, my wing is bandaged, they feed me, they pet me, they ask me to sing. They have been kind and I hate them for it. I know it is a trap, I know they want me to let my guard down so that they can feed me to their flea bag of a feline that focuses its attention on me whenever I am let out of the cage for bandage changed. I can see its eyes glaze in hunger when it sees me.

            Once, the humans let it sniff me. It licked my head, and rubbed its massive grey head against my tiny yellow one. I trembled in fear, but held my bowels. I retained my dignity.

            “Time to fly little one,” the large red-headed woman said, opening the cage and pulling me out as gently as a human can do anything ‘gently’.

            “No! Mommy! I want to keep Thunder Wing!” The son shouted, snot coming out of his nose from crying too hard.

            “Her name is Princess Peony! And she needs to go home to rule her kingdom!” The daughter screeched. She was the one who had found me and taken care of me the most. She had begged her mother to let them keep me until I was healed. Her mother had said no, until she had done what humans do bet, and thrown her mother’s favorite Elvis ashtray against a wall.

            Setting me on the open windowsill, the woman held her children by her sides and they looked eagerly towards me for some reason. I looked around for the grey cat, or some other form of danger, and saw none. I looked outside, tested my wings, looked back at them, and then jumped.

            Three weeks later, I came back to the house and sat on the windowsill. I had a grasshopper in my clutches. A gift. The boy saw me, squealed, and opened the window. He grabbed me, held me close, and I couldn’t remember why I had come back. Humans are vicious creatures.

Black Mamba

They fear me. Of course they should fear me, for I am a dread inducing creature. My very nature is to cause panic in the other creatures around me.
                I can kill creatures that are half my size, because I am dangerous and deadly and this is why they fear me.
               

It’s night time and I slither through the grass looking for my next meal. I sense each smell waiting for the waft of something yummy. That’s when I feel something bigger than me come closer. Instinctively I go into defense mode. I hiss at the creature that is only a few feet away from me. Still the creature does not get my message; it keeps getting closer to me.
                My next instinct is to lash out and bite and that’s exactly what I do. With a quick snap my fangs sink into flesh, injecting my venom. I withdraw and slither back into the bushes, waiting for the creature to die.

“FUCK! A fucking snake just bit me. Shit..Oh my god. Oh my god.”
                “Dude calm down, just calm down. How bad is it? Where did it go?!”
                “I don’t man..Oh dude I don’t feel so good..I-I-think I’m gonna pass o-“
                “Jason? JASON?! SHIT DUDE WAKE UP! WHAT THE FUCK? Oh my god where did it go. Fuck man..Jason?!”

                I  sense another creature near the first one that I had bitten. I hope that the second creature takes it as a message to stay away from me. They are too big to devour so I slither on into the grass looking for something easier to digest. They should have known to fear me.

Challenge #85

Hello everyone!

The challenge for this week is to write a story from the point of view of a wild animal.

If you would like to join us for this week, please send us your own work, be it a short story, poem, or some piece of art, to inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com for Fan Friday!

See you all on Wednesday!

Without You

                All the boxes were packed up, boxes and boxes all stacked up in the corner of the room. I stood there and just stared at them. I wiped the warm tear that fell down my cheek. I just couldn’t believe she was gone. Here in her room was all her stuff, but she was gone. I took a deep breath as the thought that had plagued me played over and over in my head. She was gone and I was still here.
                “Liz, are you okay?” Benny came up behind me, laying his hand on my shoulder. I already felt more comfortable just by having him there.
“Yeah it’s just..tough you know?” I said, wiping another tear that had escaped. Benny came around to face me. He smiled at me, just wide enough to make me smile back.
“Trust me, I know. I’ve been there.” He said. I laughed some before sitting on the hard wood floor. He joined me by sitting down in front of me.
“You know it’s gonna be okay right? It’s gonna get better.” He said. I looked down at my hands sighing.
“I don’t think it really does Benny.” I said.
                Benny looked around the room before he spoke. “You know I don’t know much about this whole life and death thing. But you know what I do know? You are strong Elizabeth, and I know you will see Aubrey again. It might not be today, or tomorrow, but I promise you that you will see her again. I’m not gonna say she’s in a better place, because I don’t know exactly where a better place is. But she loved you so much.” He said. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tears came rolling now, my whole body shaking as I began to sob. Benny reached his hand out, almost touching mine.
                I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “Benny, I just don’t understand.” I spoke through my tears, my voice almost cracking. “My big sister is gone, what am I going to do without her?” I said breathing deep. “I have to lose her. Just like I had to lose you!!” I sobbed. Benny looked down now. “Yet here you are, but where is she Benny? Why can I only see you?!” I asked.
                Benny was my best friend and more than that. He wasn’t just my boyfriend, he was my soulmate.  Two years ago he passed away in the hurricane that hit our small town. Three days after it happened, long after I had heard the news I found him in my bedroom. He was there, alive and well and standing in my bedroom. I thought I was just seeing things, that it was some kind of joke. Turns out it was a joke, because Benny wasn’t really alive, only his soul was. He drifted in and out, showing up when he could. It was hard every time he came and we still couldn’t figure it out. Two years later and I still can’t believe he exists, when I didn’t even believe in ghosts in the first place.
                Then there was Aubrey. My wonderful amazing older sister who had helped me get through everything. She got on the back of that damn motorcycle. With that stupid guy I told her was just a phase, a phase she needed to get rid of. I tried talking with her, tried telling her that he meant no good and that he was no good. But she didn’t believe me. She had rose colored glasses and all they could see was him. I remember a time when I was like that with Benny.
                We got into a fight that night and she stormed out of the house. I remember telling her that I loved her, but I couldn’t stand seeing her with him anymore. I was going to cut her out of my life that night, and then I got the call. She passed away that next morning.
                Benny drifted in and out and I wished so bad that he could’ve held me in his arms. Sometimes I swear I can feel him, but most times it just feels like cold wind brushing against your skin.
I waited and waited, thinking that maybe if I could see Benny that Aubrey would come too. But five days had passed and she still hadn’t shown up. I asked Benny, but he was as clueless as I was. Benny couldn’t really keep a memory; this afterlife wasn’t something you just figured out right away. It was something that we couldn’t understand or comprehend.
                “Liz, I told you..this life..if you can call it that. You wouldn’t want to wish that on her. I promise you that.” He said. I looked up at him and wished so badly that I could kiss him, to comfort him.
“I’m so sorry Ben. I’m so glad that I can see you, but I just wish you could move on. I want you to be happy. I’m so sorry!” I started crying more. My whole life felt like one big mess. “Why can’t you go?” I asked. Benny stood up and I could see that his image was starting to become fuzzier. “I’m fading again.” He said simply. I stood up stepped closer to him. I could almost see behind him as his image became less clear and his body became more transparent. “I love you Benny. I love you so much. If this is the last time I see you I just want you to know that.” I said. Benny gave me a kiss on the lips. I couldn’t feel it, but I knew it was there. He could no longer speak at this stage, but I knew he meant the same for me.
                “If you see her, tell her that I love her too and I miss her. I miss you both so much.” I said. He gave me one last smile before finally fading completely away. Again I was left alone in a room full of boxes and sad memories. 

Deception is the Game

            Rushing through the doors, Alice sprinted down the casino’s hotel room halls. Turn after turn, she found herself trapped in a maze of never-ending red and gold hallways, the thumping sound of her heart matching pace with the thumping of feet behind her. Five black suited men ran after her, threading swiftly through one hall and into another, knowing the building better than she did and laughing inside at the scared little rabbit.

            Finally reaching an elevator, Alice slammed her palm against the button. Over and over again, she pressed the button, looking behind her and seeing the men get closer, smirks on some of their faces and grimaces on the others. Seeing the slow climb of the elevator from floor eleven to floor twenty-seven made her shake in fear and anxiety. She looked at the fire exit and made a move towards it, only to be grabbed by the elbow and thrown onto the ground by one of the black suited men.

            The carpeting stopped her head from making a cracking sound against the floor, but it didn’t stop her shoulder from snapping out of place. Once they had dragged Alice back into the hotel room, they threw her into a chair and stood around her, waiting for the boss to come and demand the quarter million back from Alice McCade, one of the best thieves on the West Coast.

            By the time the boss had come in, Alice was convinced that she would be skinned alive. She had lost the jewels by believing her friend Cat would hold onto them while she made plans for their escape out of Vegas to Spain. Sadly, Cat was a two-faced sociopath and Alice had a tendency to believe in the wrong people.

            The boss, whose name was Aleksander Greaven, sighed, looking down at Alice, already knowing what had happened to his money because he knew what had happened to Cat, since he had been the one to make Cat’s body disappear in the desert. He was light hearted and happy on the inside, finally able to have a thief under his control. It would be easy enough to accomplish, now that Alice had had her life in his hands, and someday, he would have her body and heart as well.

Challenge #84

Hey guys!
The last genre for the genre challenge is going to be Drama. So we are going to be writing stories with the drama genre in mind.

If you would like to join us with your own work that fits this theme, please do! Just e-mail it to us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com for Fan Friday!

See you on Wednesday!

The Haunted Basement

              "Jamie we shouldn't be doing this." Laurie said. The two girls were making their way to the basement doors of the abandoned toy store.
"Oh come on don't be such a baby." Jamie said. The two of them had heard stories about the basement that was supposedly filled with old porcelain dolls.  As if that wasn't creepy enough, it was also rumored to be haunted.
             When they reached the basement doors Jamie took a deep breath. Laurie was shaking so hard with fear that the light from her flashlight jumbled all around.
"Okay are you ready?" Jamie asked. Laurie gave her friend a look completely full of fear, but just nodded.
If they didn't do this, everyone would make fun of them come Monday morning. That's the deal with bets and dares, especially when peer pressure is added to the mix.
The door to the basement wasn't even locked, which seemed strange to them. Wouldn't they want to keep it locked up so kids just like them wouldn't go messing around? Soon those thoughts quickly dissipated as they walked down the steps. Laurie's heart began to race as a sense of dread filled within her. It was a feeling she couldn't quite place, but it was also mixed with the feeling of someone watching you. Or a thousand someone's watching you.
               They scanned their flashlights around the room. All sizes and assortment of dolls stared back at them with cold unblinking eyes. The two girls grabbed each other's hands.
"We should go." Laurie said, not wanting to venture any farther into the basement.
"No we can't go yet, we have to take one of the dolls as proof." Jamie said, swallowing the lump of fear in her throat.
"Fine then just take that one!" Laurie whispered, pointing to a small doll in the corner who wasn't as creepy.

"No we need to find the one doll that Tyler told us about. You know the one with one eye?" Jamie said.
The girls began moving slowly through the basement, their flashlights continually moving  as they kept their eyes on the dolls. "He was probably just making that up." Laurie said.
               Some dolls looked newer than others, but most of them were quite old. One doll was so old the paint from her face had faded away leaving only a white blank face. Almost all of the dolls had cobwebs in their hair, and every single one of them seemed to be covered in dust. Except one of them, a doll far away in the corner near the basement window. It wasn't covered in any dust, as if it had been moved several times. It was a fairly large doll, and the face was horrifying. It had a smile that seemed almost too happy, with wide green eyes.     Laurie couldn't take her eyes off it. Out of all the dolls in the room this one was the scariest. Her heart beat faster and faster the longer she stared at the doll, and her uneasy feeling only intensified.
"Jamie, I want to go. NOW!" She said. Jamie turned to see what was wrong and almost gasped seeing the doll by the window. "Oh my god that one is...so creepy. It's perfect, we should take that one."
"NO! We are not taking that one, we are not taking any one! I'm getting the hell out of here." Laurie said turning around and heading back for the door. "Wait, hold on." Jamie said following her friend. Laurie was almost running now, trying to get away from the creepy feeling that sent goosebumps up and down her arms. Jamie followed close behind her. "Laurie just hold on!" Jamie said. But Laurie didn't stop until she was outside, breathing in the crisp night air. 

                  "I had to get out of there..I just..I just couldn't take it anymore. And that doll, god that doll was so fucking creepy." Laurie could just see the face of that doll, like it was burned  into her brain forever. "Well what are we gonna tell everyone? We don't have any proof." Jamie said. Laurie started to walk to the car.
"I don't care!" She said.
"Well I'm going back, I need to get at least one doll." She said. Laurie whipped around. "What?! You can't go back in there!" She said grabbing her friend's shoulder.
"It'll only take a second, I'll be fine. It's not like it's really haunted. Laurie please tell me you don't really believe in that crap?" She asked. Laurie didn't really think she did until she was down in that basement, and the feeling of panic that came over her when she saw the doll by the window.
"Just hurry, please...just hurry. And do not grab that fucking doll by the window." She said. Jamie looked at her friend with knitted eyebrows. "That's the second time you've cussed tonight, you never cuss."
Laurie sighed. "Yeah well, that's what happens when your best friend drags you down into a creepy haunted basement full of porcelain dolls! Now go! I don't want to be here any longer than I need to." She said. Jamie just laughed before running back towards the building.
                   Laurie watched as her Jamie disappeared and walked closer to the building, hoping her friend wouldn't take long. She stood there watching the building when a glimpse of light caught her eye. She turned to right to look, and there she saw the basement window. Glancing in she saw the figure of the creepy doll. She shined her flashlight in, hoping to see Jamie. But then suddenly the head of the doll turned completely around to face her. The wide green eyes now moving to meet Laurie's, and her smile widening even further. The last thing she heard was her Jamie's blood curdling scream. 

                  

Incognito

            “I ran through the dark woods, the moon making the world blue in hue. The trees entangled me and snarled my hair, and I heard the growling up ahead and ran towards it, even though my brain screamed at me to run away from the noise. But Joshua was ahead, my cousin and best friend was ahead of me and I had heard him screaming before I had heard the growling.”

            “By the time I had reached the growling, I could hear a wet noise, like slurping, and looking up into the trees, towards the noise, I saw legs dangling from one of the tree’s branches. The swayed like leaves in the wind from the movements of the black thing on top of the body. I screamed, it lifted its head and it’s eyes glowed white, like the eyes of an animal when caught at night in a headlight. But there was no light, save for the moon in the sky that glowed down on us.”

            “It was silent, it was massive, and it moved towards me. It was on four legs, it was furry, it was the size of a mastiff and it made my heart feel like it was going to explode out of my body. And then I wake up. Right when I can see it smile at me with its bloody maw,” Alexandria took a deep breath. Her story, the story that she had been telling everyone since she had been found in Tanknuck Woods, covered in blood, was finished. Some of the group members stared, some giggled, some shook back and forth while scratching their heads in irritation from the imagined bugs crawling inside of them.

            The Everfrost Psychiatric Facility was Alexandria’s home. It had been for seven years, and she had always refused to believe that she had been the one to kill her cousin. Until today. Her breath quickened, her eyes teared up, and she couldn’t believe that she was going to say something she didn’t believe just so that she could get out of the facility and out into the real world.

            “And I know now that it was just a dream. It wasn’t real. It was in my head. It was the monster inside me that I created to hide what happened. I know I did it. I know I killed him.”

            Doctor Monroe nodded, making a note on her paper and asking Alexandria some questions about the revelation, asking the others in the group if they had any comments. A few months later, after making sure that Alexandria had actually recovered from her delusions, she was released.

            “I saw it again. I followed it to Dr. Monroe’s home. I knew it would kill again, and I wanted to stop it. I wanted to avenge my cousin’s death. So when I saw the beast lumber out of the shadows on my way back from the grocery store to the motel, I knew I had to follow and kill it. But I couldn’t.”

            “I was too late. I heard Dr. Monroe scream, and the world turned blue from the moon. I ran to the door, already smashed open, I followed the growling upstairs, into the study, and heard the wet slurping. Her legs were shaking like tremors from an earthquake from under the table and I saw it’s black furry tail run from under the table out to the edge of the rug, a good four feet. I stepped slowly towards it, it’s tail stopped in mid sway, and it lifted its massive black head to look at the intruder. To look at me.”

            “And then I was it. I looked at the empty doorway, I looked down at the ground. Blood was all over me, and her body was on the floor. A round mirror reflected the beast. It reflected me. It showed me my true face and the face I had hidden from the world. I am Death. I am The End.”

Challenge #83

Hey everyone! Sorry for the last minute update about the challenge. Both Ink and I have been very people this past week.
But the challenge for this week is to write a story based off the Horror Genre.

If you would like to join us you can write a story and submit it to inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com and we can feature it on Fan Friday!

Happy Writing! :)

Sweet Caroline

He gently took her hand in his, leading the way while her eyes were blindfolded. She knew they were outside from the light wind that blew on her face. The wind wafted the scent of honeysuckles her way and Caroline couldn't help but smile. She already knew exactly where they were.
“Where are we going?” She asked already knowing the answer.
“You’ll see.” Was all he said. She could hear the excitement in his voice.
“Wait here.” He said and let go of her hand. Caroline stood there with a wide grin, a giddiness rising inside her stomach.
                He was back in front of her now, she could smell the musky scent of his cologne. Before untying the blindfold he gave her a small kiss on the lips.
“Surprise!” He said excitedly. Her eyes adjusted to the tiny garden, with the small gazebo. Dozens of candles circled around it.
“Oh Arthur, it’s beautiful! You’ve taken my breath away.” She said. Arthur held her hand once more, using his other hand to hold her waist. Slowly he led her under the gazebo.
“Well we don’t want that!” He laughed. “Would you like to dance?” He asked. Caroline looked down at their feet which were already beginning to move.
“I think we already are.” She smiled back up at him. They swayed together under the gazebo for what seemed like hours. Her hand in his, breathing in the sweet scent of Honeysuckle and his cologne. It filled her with a happiness she had never felt in all her life.
                “Caroline!” A voice yelled in the distance, startling them both. “CAROLINE!” The voice yelled louder. 
                

“CAROLINE!” Her eyes flew open, standing above the bed was her sister Tracey.
“You gotta get up you’re gonna be late for work.” She said. Caroline slowly sat up in bed, the dream still clouding her mind. “What?” She asked looking around.
“Work, you know that thing you do to make money?” Her sister said sarcastically. Caroline at the realization that it was only a dream, that Arthur only existed in her head.
“What’s wrong?” Her sister sensing her mood. Caroline threw the covers off. “Nothing, just having a good dream that I didn’t want to end.”

When she got to work her mind kept drifting back to the dream. Every once in a while she could’ve sworn she smelled Honeysuckle somewhere in the office, but she knew her mind must have just been playing tricks on her.
                Today her boss wanted her to train the new interns and Caroline couldn’t find the motivation inside her to act peppy. “How many do we have this time?” She asked.
“Only four, and Caroline please make sure you go over the Quota for the week okay?” Her boss asked before giving her four folders. “I will make sure I do that.” She said.
                Walking towards the elevator Caroline almost froze in tracks when she once again smelled the scent of Honeysuckle, except this time it was laced with another familiar scent. She took a deep breath, breathing in the scent before finally pressing the elevator button.
She rode the elevator three floors up to the conference room and braced herself for hard work that was about to be at hand.
                When the doors open Caroline stepped she almost dropped the folders in shock. Immediately her eyes locked with one of the new interns. He looked exactly like Arthur from her dream, so much so that she was convinced it was him. The look on his face gave her chills, almost as if he recognized her as well. He smiled at her before stepping closer, close enough to whisper something in her ear.
“Would you like to dance with me my Sweet Caroline?”

Maybe

            Kara stared at the man in front of her. She had spent her whole day trying to find this man, the supposed man of her dreams, and this is who she found. The night before, he had seemed charming, mysterious, cunning, and, well, perfect. She knew it wasn’t the alcohol that had made him seem that way, because she had only had an Irish coffee by the time he had come in to the bar and she hadn’t had anything else to drink, that was alcoholic, until they had gone to a nightclub four hours later.

            The man in front of her, dressed in a crumpled white button-up and dirty black slacks, looked like he had just finished a night of work as a busboy.

            “James! Five minutes and then back to work! Those tables ain’t gonna clean themselves!” A slightly muscular man shouted from the backdoor of Caraway’s, the restaurant Kara had found this loser in. She had been hoping he was the cook, with how well he had cooked her a late morning dinner before departing when she had fallen asleep. Or the owner, with how well he knew about how businesses ran themselves and worked, but she never would have thought that he was a busboy.

            “Couldn’t keep away from me,” The guy, James, smirked and made a move to hold Kara’s hand, but she stepped back, aghast and confused. “What’s wrong?”

            “You’re . . . You’re a busboy.” She stammered, wiping the sweat from her brow that she had gathered from running five blocks just to meet this man of her dreams. The man who had made her laugh so hard that she had snorted, something she hadn’t done since middle school. After middle school, she had to be serious and grounded after her father died. She had to take care of her mother and brother. They had been counting on her, and she had never found time for herself since.

            “Yeah? Is that a problem?” He looked confused, like wealth and occupation and security were things that didn’t matter in the world. To Kara, they did. And they mattered so much that she fainted because of the strange pressure that her heart and her head decided to push her with.

            “That stuff matters to her? That’s no problem, I get the reasoning, and I would love to keep going out with her. Last night was magical and amazing. I didn’t think I could feel that again after my ex. But I have another two years till I get this place from my uncle,”

            “Yeah! I know! It sucks. But I don’t think she’ll-,”

            “I do!” Kara shouted, leaping up from her makeshift bed that James and his uncle had made for her in the break room after she had fainted. “I mean . . . I will. I’m fine. With it. With you. I’d like to keep seeing you.” She stammered. Her friend Mel staring at her with her eyes bulging like a frog’s from how shocked she was. James looked at her, his face going from concerned to ecstatic. Neither of the two knowing that, while Kara was passed out, she had a dream of her dad telling her it was time for her to relax and find happiness, something that she deserved to have after the many years of work she had been putting herself under.

Challenge #82

Hello all!

The genre challenge for this week is romance! So we must write a story for the romance genre. If anyone would like to contribute to Fan Friday, please do! Just e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com!

See you on Wednesday!