Journey's end

Lightning flashed in the distance. They sans one huddled closer drawing comfort from each other. The swirling black clouds were visible indicating that their journey was at its end. Yet, darkness would arrive before them. The winding road seemingly friendly an hour ago was at its treacherous best. The trees lining both sides were gnarled in places, hideous stumps at others, the roots spreading out onto the pathway like greedy fingers. The leafless branches rustled and bent towards them. This is an illusion. The shaman’s dying warning echoed. Icy hands trailed through their limbs. Fear, the warriors accepted, welcomed, but this unseen entity chilled their hearts, dulled their instincts, made them cower like the villagers they were bound to protect.

Ashan, the self appointed leader, twirled his blood stained scimitar. Basher balked at the other’s impatience, then nudged the unsure group forward. He waited for the one tagging behind. She moved with firm, alert steps belying her tender age. She had impressed Bashir by offering to be the bait. The council had happily agreed.

 He had sworn then to protect her with his life.  

A flash of light revealed the looming grey castle. Thunder made its presence felt. Then. Utter silence. They stopped a few feet away from the gates. Ashan turned to Bashir. “Take the girl and walk ahead. We follow close behind.”

Why single me out? “Come. It’s time.” in the kindest tone he could manage.

One of the gates unbolted, wide enough for a person to pass through.

 He stopped her as she moved forward. “I go first.”

The iron door closed behind them. Bashir rushed back trying in vain to wrench it open.

His reward was bloodied fingers.

Yasmin watched him, the slow hunger now a raging need. The warrior’s blood smelled sweet. A feast tonight.

Wc 300 Exact.

Strange Worlds

  Based on a fantasy short story I wrote some years ago but left halfway

The clock chimed 12....all eyes turned to it.


Then a crashing sound from the kitchen snapped everyone's attention... Mother rushed in, almost slipping on the mess on the floor. Meena stood still, with a faraway look in her eyes whilst clutching her left arm. Joy pried away her fingers, watching  in terror and wonder; the dreaded silver words glistening in contrast to her brown skin.

“ Tonight we come” read the words.
 As Joy dragged the compliant girl out of the kitchen, he kept an anxious watch on her.

The family huddled in the small  living room, relatives he had never met stood whispering...older men and women gathered around his great grand mother passing the now yellowing picture around.

Would Tara’s fate be the same as her great grand uncle??...

If pictures could speak, surely it would say a thousand things. Was he alive, could he guide her, would she even meet him and mostly where the hell was he?


 A mystery whose answers weren't even enclosed in a dusty tome, the trembling wrinkled lips which was sworn to secrecy revealing the bare outline.


 For over 600 years, maybe more, every fourth generation, the second oldest child in his family disappeared alone; within, the now in ruins stone temple, on the dawn they turned 16.


The only evidence was an ancient dagger which made its appearance on the very spot they had been, last seen standing, by the rest gathered out of sight, far away in the temple grounds.


Joy had often questioned  the enforced practice.... the constant reply, " The fear of an ancient curse being activated", he openly scoffed at. He was glad he had been born five Min's later but felt for his twin. He had an ace up his sleeve, it all depended on perfect timing..... 










* I didn't know how to end the story...aliens, secret cult, magical world, star gate..... so left it unfinished.