A Life Too Short (Wednesday Words 5.3.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off a three word combination prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

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A Life Too Short

In Loving Memory of a Dear Classmate

One of my classmates died yesterday. Unexpectedly; just like every other tragedy that occurs. The sun is shining and birds are singing on this picture perfect day outside, but the beauty is lost on so many today. To us it is overcast by shadow and storm clouds of a different kind. Our worlds have come to a standstill, but life around us hasn’t slowed or stopped to mourn with us.

It keeps on turning, blissfully ignorant to the pain in our hearts.

The clock continues to tick away the agonizing seconds, minutes, hours, transforming them into days and weeks. They say time heals wounds of the heart, but that isn’t always true. Sometimes time only makes the pain worse. It makes days likes this, perfect days, become mockery to our suffering.

Doesn’t the world care?

Of course it doesn’t. At least not all of it. The world as a large whole is unaffected by this tragedy, just like so many others that happen every day, but so many individual lives around me are now grieving and trying to process a loss that is incomprehensible.

How do you deal with the unexpected tragedy of a life so bright, and so full of heart, snatched from a world that was better off with her in it?

The answer is I don’t know.

Maybe you sit and stare blankly at a wall, unable to feel, unable to cry just yet because it still feels surreal. Part of you believes the phone next to you is going to light up and start ringing with a call from your friend, daughter, cousin, sister… But it doesn’t.

No matter how much you will it to not be real it unfortunately is.

Or perhaps the reality slams into you so fast and so hard that you want to find some place secluded where you can scream at the world at the top of your lungs for this injustice. The middle of the woods, a garden shed, sitting in your car, anywhere available where you can let it out. Where you can curl up and cry until you have no tears left, and scream until your lungs give out.

I don’t know how you grieve, how you may cope. Everyone is different. Maybe one day time will scar the wound we now bear, but that day is not today. For when our hearts freeze like an unexpected snowstorm in May, I do know one thing for sure…

The world lost a beautiful soul yesterday. A kind, caring, selfless individual who always smiled and always welcomed everyone around her with open arms. She could light up the room with her presence. I had never met another person so devoted to their family, with such a bright future and a good head on their shoulders. A young woman who touched and changed so many lives with her own. The memories and photos left on her wall speak of a life that was worth every moment of it, and it is a shame it was cut so short at just twenty-two years.

I guess it’s true when they say the good ones are always taken first.

I saw a quote a friend of hers shared yesterday: “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

How lucky we were indeed.

Tonight I choose not to mourn anymore, but to celebrate the bright life she lived instead. Tonight I light a candle in her honor. She may be gone but she will never be forgotten for the joy she spread and the lives she forever changed. The world may not have stopped to mourn with us, but know we would have stopped the world for you.

Rest easy now, and fly high, angel.

not to die


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

Shards of Imagination Cover Final

Tea Party (Wednesday Words 4.26.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off a three word combination prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

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Tea Party

Darcy skipped over to the garden patch and reached in to pluck the garden gnome from his post next to the tulips. Then she skipped to her left and plucked the green and brown ceramic turtle from his home by the decorative rocks. Tucking them under her arms she hummed her way back to the plastic table and chairs set up in the center of the backyard.

She set them each on their respective chairs then took her own seat with a giggle, picking up the kid-friendly teapot to pour an imaginary cup for each of them. “So how has the week been for the two of you?” she asked.

The reply they gave was only heard in her head with the power of her imagination, but she smiled all the same to the turtle.

“Oh that’s great, Hooper! It was a big rainstorm we had the other day. I knew you’d like that.” Darcy then frowned and looked to the gnome. “What’s the matter, Grumpy? You didn’t have a good week?”

The gnome stared with a fixed disgruntled expression and Darcy’s face fell.

“Rocco did it again?” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Grumpy. You know he can’t help it. He’s just a puppy. At least the rain washed it all off though, didn’t it? You got a nice bath!” She beamed for a second, then frowned slightly once more. “Oh… I’m sorry. Rocco doesn’t mean it.”

Silence fell between the trio as Darcy sipped at her imaginary tea. The squawk of a crow grabbed her attention after a moment and she looked up to see one streak across the yard overhead, landing in a nearby tree. It preened its wings and a black feather floated to the ground.

Darcy got out of her chair and scurried toward the feather, bending to pick it up before holding it up to the crow in the tree, head tilted all the way back. “Excuse me, Mr. Crow!” she called, “I think you dropped this.”

The bird cocked its head at her, staring with beady eyes for a second. It squawked and flapped its wings.

She frowned in confusion. “Oh? You don’t…need it? But it’s yours. Why don’t you need it Mr. Crow? Doesn’t it help you fly?”

Mr. Crow hopped along the branch with wings out, rustling the leaves as it continued to stare down at her.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

A series of caws left its beak this time before it pushed off and glided into the sky, flying away over her house and out of sight. She watched the crow leave before waving goodbye to it with a smile, starting to skip back to her tea party as she tucked the feather into her hair.

“Goodbye, Mr. Crow, and thank you for the gift!”


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

Shards of Imagination Cover Final

Windows of Life (Wednesday Words 4.19.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off an occurence prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

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Windows of Life

“Mom! I’m home,” I called through the house as I shut the front door. I didn’t exactly expect an answer so when no voice greeted me back I wasn’t surprised.

Setting my book bag down by the door I wandered through the downstairs, looking for my mother. The floor was quiet though, dark with drawn drapes. I threw a couple of them open, fading light playing off the floating dust particles in the room. In the kitchen I frowned to find there weren’t any new dishes in the sink and the bowl of cereal I had left out on the table when I skipped out that morning for school was hardly touched.

I sighed as I took the bowl of dry frosted flakes and threw the rest out to the animals out back, then put the bowl in the sink and started for the stairs. “Mom?” I called again.

My foot hesitated on the first stair, hand gripping the railing as I took a deep breath. I always feared what I would come home too. Would I find my mother actually functioning by eating or reading or watching TV on the rare days she was doing better? Or would I find her laying in bed upstairs once more, barely having moved the whole day?

Or, worse yet, would I find her dead?

I let out the shaky breath I was holding and ascended the staircase. My eyes glanced over the box of books in the upper hallway, frowning. My mother had refused to leave the encyclopedias on the shelf in her room after my father died. She claimed it reminded her too much of him, too much of how he came alive when he was teaching a class at the university. One day, in a fit of hysterical crying, she had thrown every book off the shelves in their bedroom, and since then they had laid dormant in a box in the hallway.

My mother never wanted to see them again, but that didn’t mean I wanted to part with the set. It was almost all I had left of him now after she broke or packed up every other reminder. She claimed it was too painful to leave it sitting out, but to me it was like she was trying to forget dad ever existed.

I picked up the box of books and moved them into my bedroom, hiding them under the bed. Out of sight, but never out of mind. Maybe later I could read the inscriptions of quotes he wrote on the inside cover of every book he ever owned. Maybe later I could let myself feel the pain again.

A deep breath dropped my shoulders and I started down the hall before I could think too much on the subject. It was easier to deal with my mother if my mind was devoid of every emotional thought.

“Mom?” I asked softly as I stopped at her door and rapped on the wood. A tiny murmur greeted me this time and relief flooded my veins.

Today was not the day I would find her dead.

Pushing open the door I walked in, peering through the gloom to find her huddled up under the covers, staring blankly at the wall. I hated that look on her face. It was like she had become a shell of a person. I wanted to hide from the world and grieve too, but I couldn’t, because if I did then there would be no one left to take care of her, and no one to maintain this house or whatever life they had left here. I hated that she got to be the grieving, deadened one and not me. I was the child, she was supposed to be the strength for both of us. She was supposed to comfort me.

“Have you eaten anything today, mom?” I asked, shoving aside the resentful thoughts.

She didn’t answer, only slid her glassy gaze toward me before looking back to the wall with a sigh. I frowned.

“I guess that’s a no… Have you been out of bed yet?” She shrugged and a pinch of anger bloomed in my chest. “Mom… You can’t keep-” I bit my tongue before I could finish that sentence, knowing it would only fall on deaf ears, then let out a breath. “Never mind. I’m going to go make dinner and come get you when it’s ready, then you’re going to take a shower while I’m doing my homework. You didn’t take one yesterday.”

My mother gave a weary incoherent mumble and turned over in bed, facing away from me. I stared at her for a second before turning away to go start a load of laundry and cook dinner with a heavy heart.

I hadn’t just lost my father on the night of that fire, I lost my mother too.


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

Shards of Imagination Cover Final

My Damned (Wednesday Words 4.12.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off a photo prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

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My Damned

I see you
Out there,
Tiptoeing among the
Rocks and moss in bare soles.
You’re looking for…
Something,
Among the trickles of water and
Slippery shale.
A smile graces your face,
Your eyes twinkle in amusement.

My eyes glint too —
Not in amusement, but in
Wickedness.
You don’t know I’m here.
Watching.
Waiting.
Lurking within this cavern of rock.

How could you know?

I am invisible to the
Untrained eye;
A phantom of
Superstition.
Those who don’t believe
Never see me coming,
Luring them away.

Your bright laughter makes me
Sneer in contempt.
I loathe that sound —
The sound of
Happiness, of
Life.

You splash closer to my lair.
I grin a feral smile.
The match to
My beacon,
My trap
Ignites.

The blaze of my eternal fire
Captures your attention.
It scorches your
Soul from behind the dribbles of
Fairy-sized waterfalls.

Beckoning,
Tempting.
It draws you closer,
Curls you around my
Spell.

Your foot skims over the
Shallow puddles.
One step closer —
Then another,
And another.

“Yes, come,”
My voice slithers, as
Slippery as the rock faces
Surrounding my Rift.

You stop and crouch
Before my mouth.
My grin widens.
I whisper across your senses,
Blurring your reality.
The moment you begin to see
Etches across your face in
Creases of terror.

But by then it is
Already too late.

Ancient demonic tongues enthrall
Your consciousness in
Ropes,
Drawn taunt.
Eternal fire licks its
Fingers toward you,
Swirling around your being,
Pulling you in closer,
Deeper.

Away from
Mortality;
Away from
Salvation.

I am
Abdaddon, and you —
My
Damned.


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

Shards of Imagination Cover Final

Time After Time (Wednesday Words 4.5.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off a three word combination prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

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Time After Time

The trilling sound of a whistle rang shrilly through the air. A loud, blaring sound cut through his senses, followed by nails on a chalkboard squealing and screeching. He turned his head just in time to see the massive rectangle on wheels barreling down on him. Terror gripped him and he threw his hands up in a desperate attempt to shield himself.

Its flat face came within inches of smashing into him before the screeching stopped with a puff of dispelled air and the smell of burning rubber.

“Get the fuck out of the middle of the road, foreigner!”

Henry lowered his arms and peeked one eye open to find the metal beast looming over him. What was a fuck? Was it a thing he needed to move? A sharp burst of sound from the machine made him jump.

“Get out of the road! Are you trying to get yourself killed, you dumb moron?! Move!”

His gaze flicked to the angry person leaning out a window of one of the other, smaller metal things, shaking a fist and yelling at him. He straightened his dress jacket and glanced back to the mechanical beast in front of him, then hurried out of the road. Another metal beast came to a grinding halt as he hurried past, bumping into him lightly. He stumbled, holding his hands up.

“Sorry, sorry,” he tried to apologize to the disgruntled driver, moving past again and making it to the sidewalk where the rest of the pedestrians were hurrying along. He caught a couple strange gazes as he leaned back on a building, looking upwards at the towering skyscrapers in awe. He had never seen something so tall, so magnificent!

Everything here was beyond what he could have ever imagined on his own. Time travel was truly remarkable. He wasn’t quite sure where to look first. There were so many different people, of different color too! Astounding! Then there were these towering buildings, and metal beasts zipping along. Flashing lights and signs. And the noise! My Gods the noise!

It was overbearing, and incredible the types of sounds this futuristic new world managed to produce. He could hear music down the way, the many sounds of the people, dogs barking and cats yowling in response from an alleyway. Then there was the screeching and honking from the metal machines on the road, and those coming from some of the signs or from inside propped open doors to shops.

Remarkable! It was truly remarkable the world he had visited.

“Pardon me, madam?” he asked, reaching out to a passerby.

The woman yanked away from his touch, hitching her shoulder bag further up on her arm and gripping it tight. A stern, wary gaze traveled up and down his person. “You’re wearing some odd clothing, dude. What’d you do? Fall right out of the colonial days?”

Henry blinked. “Well, actually, I have. But might you be so kind as to tell me what year this is?”

The look she gave him might as well have been that of someone who saw four heads sitting on his shoulders instead of one. He could have sworn her heard her mutter something along the lines of “bat shit crazy freak” but he couldn’t be certain.

“Pardon?” What was bat shit crazy anyway?

“Look. Weirdo. Why don’t you run along back wherever you came from before you get yourself killed by running into the street without watching your step. Though you wouldn’t be the first crazy lunatic to do so.” She flipped bright pink hair over her shoulder and turned, walking away before he could stop her.

Henry watched with a combination of bafflement and amazement. Such bright hair! He wondered if it grew in that color. Never before had he seen something so bright, and so pink. He glanced around again, then found a bench not far away, wandering over to sit down. The other patron seated upon it gave him a sneered glance before getting up and walking away, babbling into a little rectangular device held up to his ear. He dismissed the person — though he was curious what the device had been — and pulled out a miniature tattered book from his vest pocket. Flipping through it he glanced over the pages filled with details and notes of the years he had visited, the places even.

A wistful smile pulled at his face. It was like watching mankind and the world grow and evolve, all in one lifetime. He stopped on the next blank page, glancing up to look at a flashing sign on a building that read PNC Bank. The screen showed the weather, then an advertisement for a strange product called a tampon, then to his luck it showed the time. Or, more importantly, it showed the date. He smiled more.

“Hello, 2017. You are quite astounding indeed.”


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

Shards of Imagination Cover Final

Alice in Court (Wednesday Words 3.29.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off a photo prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

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Alice in Court

“You’re late, you’re late, for a very important date!”

Alice tilted her head at the voice filtering through the walls toward her. It was frantic, like someone who had wolfed down way too much sugar and energy drinks. She glanced to the door.

“You’re late, you’re late, for a very important date!”

It was closer this time. Who was late? And who was yelling the phrase? She stepped to the door and crouched, peering out through the keyhole into the woods with one eye. Along the pathway stood a white rabbit with its nose twitching. Red eyes were locked on the door of her cottage. For a brief moment she could have sworn it caught her one-eyed gaze through the keyhole. A cold breeze raced down her spine so fleetingly that she nearly missed it.

The rabbit hopped a step closer to the cottage. “You’re late, you’re late!”

Alice gasped and reeled back in surprise, covering her mouth with her hand. The White Rabbit… It talked. It spoke to her. Just like the one from her dream several nights before. She was late? Late for what important date? After a second she crouched and gazed through the keyhole again. A frown creased her lips when she didn’t see the rabbit anymore. Where had it gone? She straightened.

“You’re late, you’re late!” It was coming from right outside her door now, right on the front stoop by the sound of it.

Her head snapped back to the door and she cautiously peeked once more as best she could to see her front step. Sure enough, the rabbit was standing right on the step, staring up at her with gleaming red eyes.

“You’re late, you’re late,” it cackled. The squeaky, high-pitched tone of the White Rabbit began to deepen into something more sinister.

A strangeness overtook Alice’s limbs like her body was being compacted. The world began to grow bigger and bigger as if she was getting smaller and smaller. The keyhole rose up away from her toward the sky and the door became an impassable mountain. Then the floor suddenly rushed up to meet her shrinking form. It caught her roughly in the knees and tossed her out through the keyhole into the woods. Alice screamed in confused panic, arms flailing as she tumbled through the air. The world enlarged back to normal as she flew and hit the dirt.

“You’re late, you’re late. For a very important date.” The voice of the White Rabbit was now distorted and deep with nails screeching down a chalkboard.

Her surroundings began to darken, bleeding away the light and color like ink on a newspaper left out in the rain. The trees shed their leaves and grew tall and thin, twisting and bending into disfigured shapes. She could hear whispers among the brush. Cackling and screeching sounded in the far off distance. Expect for the eerie cackle of the White Rabbit. That one was right behind her.

Alice whipped her head around and almost screamed, scrambling backwards in a crab walk to get away from the creature that no longer resembled a cute little bunny. The White Rabbit had grown to roughly nine foot tall, standing on hind legs. Dangerous claws flexed on its front paws, half reaching for her then pulling back repeatedly like it was teasing her. Pristine fur had changed to a pitch black coarse pelt, and vicious red eyes glowed at her with a disturbing craze. It smiled, showing off pointed buck teeth.

It wasn’t the White Rabbit anymore. It was a thing of nightmares. It was the Black Rabbit.

“You’re late, you’re late, for a very important date, White Queen.”

“What?” she breathed, still scooting back slowly. “I’m not…”

Alice trailed off as she caught sight of her clothes. Her normal peasant’s dress was now a flowing gown of white silk with gold trim. Something heavy rested on top her head and she reached up to find a tiara nestled among auburn curls.

The Black Rabbit took a half step toward her and she backed up, forgetting about her clothes. “The Black Queen, Queen of Bleeding Hearts, wants her checkmate. Run. Run. As fast as you can, White Queen. The Black Rook is coming for you. It’s your move.”

She scurried to her feet and stumbled back into a tree. Casting her gaze past the Black Rabbit dismay sank into her gut to see her cottage was no longer there. She was on her own.

“Run. Run.” The rabbit cackled again and grinned at her.

Alice stared at the Black Rabbit for a second before gathering her skirts and fleeing into the darkened forest as fast as she could without tripping.


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

Shards of Imagination Cover Final

Birdsong (Wednesday Words 3.22.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off a three word combination prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it! (Personally, I think this one sucks.)

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

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Birdsong

River sat down along the stream’s edge with her back to the water, bunching her skirts around her legs. Her gaze fell to rest upon the makeshift gravestone only several feet in front of her, a mighty oak shielding it. She remained silent respectively and laid a single rose down over the grave.

Dawn was just barely creeping over the horizon, painting the sky in beautiful shades of pink and orange. The light filtered down through the tree limbs, skipping along the ground and twinkling with each light rustle of leaves in the wind. Birds of all sorts were stretching their wings and voices to the heavens around her, warming the morning with their delicate songs.

Everything was quiet. Peaceful.

At least, on the outside everything was peaceful in the woods. Within her heart though she was mourning the anniversary of a loss. A dull ache that beat within her chest, constricting her walls.

After some moments of silence she began to hum a tune, softly at first, then a bit louder. It wasn’t a happy tune, but it also couldn’t be considered a completely sad melody. It was the words of her heart she couldn’t bring to justice by speaking, the words and feelings that could only be completely conveyed by tune. Her melody rose and fell along the chorus of the birds, singing as one.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a small chocolate brown rabbit hopping close to stop near a boulder. It watched her, waiting patiently until she had stopped humming and sat there quietly. When she had been silent for a few minutes it hopped closer, nose twitching.

“River?” the rabbit asked lightly.

She turned her head and gave a small smile before standing to brush off her skirts. “I’m alright, Cinnabun.”

“Are you sure?” Cinnabun hopped a step closer, putting her front paws on River’s shoe and stretching up.

River nodded, reaching down to rub at her ears. “I’m sure. I’m okay. Or, I will be okay in time. Let’s get back to the rest of the clan before Buck sends the wolves to find us.”

Cinnabun gave a quick head shake from being tickled then hopped away so she could walk without tripping over her. River followed her soundlessly back into the forest, casting one last glance over her shoulder at the gravestone.


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

Shards of Imagination Cover Final

Dragonstone (Wednesday Words 3.15.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off a three word combination prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

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Dragonstone

O’Malley’s ear twitched at the crack of a branch breaking under soft footfalls. Bending backwards out of his handstand he sprang up to his feet with a small hop, settling gold eyes on the elf through woven bars of vines.

“Well, well,” he purred, adjusting his top hat and raking his gaze over the man. “Lookie who came to see their trap sprung.” He grinned, revealing a set of sharp pointed teeth.

The elf paused in a slight defensive crouch several feet away from his cage of thick, sturdy vines and roots. He was a burly built man with massive muscles rippling under his tunic sleeves, carrying a half drawn bow in his hands. O’Malley had to give him credit for not having heard him sneaking up sooner. For his size and build he was a rather quiet one; perhaps he was both a hunter and trapper then. Strictly trappers never knew the importance of stealth like a hunter does.

“Hold your tongue, lepper.”

He gave a little hop and cackled. “Lepper? Oh dear me. Here come the offensive attempts at my gold-loving, mysterious and mischievous species. I’m so dreadfully terrified.”

“Quiet. Or I’ll put an arrow through you.” His voice came out like a low, cold growl.

O’Malley simply grinned in return though, wiggling green fingers at his sides as he rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet. Silly elf. They never did fully understand a leprechaun’s abilities, did they?

The elf stepped a hair closer to his cage and lowered the arrow toward the ground. He didn’t release the tension on the bowstring though. “Now. You know how this works. I managed to snare you, so that means you have to return the dragonstone to my kingdom. So where is it?”

He snickered. “And what makes you believe I have the dragonstone? There are many talented leprechauns out there capable of…pick-pocketing that precious blue gem.” O’Malley watched his jaw clench with satisfaction.

“Stop playing games, vermin. Where is it?”

Dark gold eyes appraised him up and down, then he casually turned away and sauntered around the perimeter of his cage. Clasping his hands in front of his chest he tapped his fingers together in a grand show of plotting, humming to himself and biding time. His ear twitched.

An arrow zinged through the air and lodged quivering into one of the thick vines of the corner of his prison, only inches in front of him. One more step would have impaled his shoulder, but he knew the elf hadn’t been aiming to harm him. Not yet at least. That had been meant to scare him, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Answer the question. Where is the dragonstone?”

O’Malley flicked burning eyes toward his captor and tilted his head. “Even if I had it I wouldn’t be foolish enough to keep it in my possession now, would I?”

“Where did you stash it, you lying thief?”

“Oooh…”

He swirled a hand in the air, then suddenly vanished in a blur of movement and dark green light. The elf jumped back in surprise as O’Malley appeared visible again right in front of him, body pressed up against the earthly tendrils of his prison. He wrapped his gnarly hands around two stocky vines, eyes locking on the black cord around the elf’s neck. An orange heartstone hung from it, bright and pulsing with the life of his dragon.

Baring his teeth in a feral grin he asked, “What’s that, trapper? Your lucky charm?”

The elf’s eyes snapped downward, then he hurriedly shoved the cord and heartstone back under his tunic. Pointed ears slicked back and the creases in his face hardened. No wonder he was so stealthy, and so well built. He wasn’t just a trapper and hunter, he was a Flamer. An elf with a dragon bond and the ability to bend their dragon’s fire in battle. They relied on the dragonstone as part of the power that held the bond intact between dragon and Flamer.

“So that’s why you’re so intent on retrieving the dragonstone,” O’Malley taunted. “Because you and your dragon need it. You know your kingdom doesn’t much care for Flamers and their steeds anymore. High court probably don’t even care the dragonstone is missing.” A crazy, high-pitched cackle escaped his lips. “In fact, I bet they’re happy it’s gone!”

Emerald eyes narrowed at him and the elf bared his own teeth. He lunged forward and reached through the vines, grabbing O’Malley by the front of his jacket and lifting him off his feet a foot or so to be eye level. “You know where the dragonstone is, and you’re going to tell me. This prison is made from and resides in the enchanted forest, which means you can’t blitz your way out of it. Unless you tell me where the dragonstone is I’m going to leave you in here to rot. What’s one less lepper stealing from our kingdom to deal with?”

A low rumple of thunder drowned out O’Malley’s chortle. The sky was darkening rapidly overhead with storm clouds rolling in seemingly out of thin air. Trickles of lightning from cloud to cloud illuminated the dimming forest with ominous flashes. Cold rain tapped through the leaves, sporadically for a second then fast and steady. It dripped and slithered down through the greenery, drenching the two figures at an alarming rate.

He caught a flash of movement in the brush behind the elf and slowly grinned sinisterly.

“Best be running off now,” O’Malley taunted. “Haven’t you heard leprechauns have friends in low places?”

Satisfaction struck him when alarm flashed across the elf’s eyes. He dropped O’Malley back to his feet and spun agilely. Just as he reached for another arrow in the quiver across his back, O’Malley’s hand shot through the vines and grabbed his wrist to stop him. The elf grunted as he jerked him off balance to fall against the vines.

“Let go!” he snapped.

O’Malley only laughed and snaked his other hand through the vines, snatching his free forearm and holding tight. Despite their smaller size and build, leprechauns had some unnatural strength to them and he used it to his advantage.

“You really shouldn’t have trapped the Leprechaun King, Flamer,” he whispered, leaning in. “It angers my kingdom, you know. It also effectively makes you guilty of an attempted kidnapping. That arrow from earlier too…” He tsked. “Attempted assassination. I don’t think your dragon is going to see you again. Poor thing will probably die of a broken heart and bond.”

His friends in low places burst from the surrounding brush and leapt forward with fury and murder in their eyes toward the elf. O’Malley let go and stepped back to watch a set of his guards expertly try to take down his captor in the pouring rain. Being a Flamer he put up a small scuffle, but the odds weren’t in his favor.

“Your Highness!” someone else squeaked out of breath as they scurried forth on short legs to his cage. “Are you alright?”

O’Malley glanced over and smiled. “Quaver, my good aid, I am perfectly fine. However, it would be quite helpful if you could find a way to lift or open this prison.”

He was met with an enthusiastic nod as Quaver hurried around the outside perimeter looking for a way to unwind the roots from the vines and lift the prison back into the air. Gold eyes strayed back to the scuffle between elf and guards, smiling to see a blow double him over. His guards were quick to respond with ropes and binds until the Flamer was on his knees, disarmed, with hands tied behind his back and a cluster of lassoes around his chest and arms. At that moment he heard a twang of twine tightening and the cage began to lift, uncurling its fingers from the roots that shuddered back into the earth.

“Ah,” he sighed. “That is much better. Thank you, Quaver. Guards.” He gave a nod of approval. “Impeccable timing.”

The elf tried to stand and lunge forward as he stepped to join his men but was quickly yanked back stumbling. O’Malley chuckled, watching him with amusement.

“You’re going to regret this,” he growled. “Innin will find me and we will burn your city to the ground until we get the dragonstone back. You’re making a grave mistake by taking me.”

“Your dragon isn’t going to find you, Flamer. Dragons can’t fit underground.” He grinned savagely and began to walk off, motioning with one hand for his men to follow. “Come along now. There is much to be done, and we must find a nice, sturdy prison for you first, elf.”


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

Since I missed the last month of posting my Shards to my blog, you can find the last four Shards — The Trouble With Warmongers, The Clone Exhibit, Balance, and Betrayal in Duty — on Wattpad.

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Traitor (Wednesday Words 2.8.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off an occurrence prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

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

Traitor

Two guards bowed their heads and pushed the doors open for him as he came to the room. He gave them a nod of acknowledgement, eyes grim as he stepped inside the room and the door closed behind him. Grey eyes swept over the room, taking in the surroundings. The long war table was pristine and empty, all ten chairs pushed in. None of the shelves of various books and scrolls were disturbed, everything neat in its place. His eyes lingered on the large symbol scorched on the stone floor with a touch of disgust before he turned his expression blank and looked up to see his father standing by the window, looking out with hands clasped behind his back.

“You wanted to see me, father?” he asked cordially after years of perfecting the most placid tone of obedience.

He turned around, red robes swishing. “Yes. I did. Have a seat, Rylan.” He gestured to one of the war chairs and it pulled outward on its own by magic.

There was something in this steely gaze, something in his tone that set off red alarms through his head. His shoulders tensed, straightening as he reached to clasp his hands behind his back now, lightly touching one against the knife hidden in his belt. “No thank you. I would rather stand.”

His father’s jaw clenched. “Have it your way.” He walked around the table toward him, causing Rylan to tense subtly, hand resting just above the hilt of his knife. “I hear you made a blunder in your last hunt.”

Rylan mentally cursed a string of colorful words and his blood ran cold with alarm. He should have known that was going to get back to him. Well, it proved one thing, his father had been having him tailed for the past few months. Now it was going to catch up to him, in a potentially deadly way.

“You wanted me to deliver my own mother to Lucifer for eternal damnation and slavery,” he replied coldly, eyes not leaving his father’s movements with a calculating gaze.

“Yes. I did. She committed treason to me, to our realm. There was no other choice left for her acts.” He trailed his hand over the table as he walked. “However, I saw to it your lack of…resolve was rectified afterward. Your lapse in judgment in our law could have cost us much had word gotten out. Should rumors have reached the Council’s ears of rebellion in our midst, you could have spun us into a war over petty mercy!” He banged his hand on the table, rage blazing in his eyes now. “A follower of our God cannot show such weakness! You are one of his greatest instruments for hunts because of your title.”

Rylan stilled, now gripping his knife till he was sure his knuckles were white. “What did you do to her?” he whispered, the color draining from his face.

“That is no longer any of your concern.”

“By Hell it is!”

“Don’t you swear to the God you just betrayed by defying your duties! Your mother made you soft.” He sneered, looking him up and down with such disappointment.

Rylan’s jaw tightened now, heart racing. “My mother made me a decent person, that’s more than I can say for you,” he growled lowly.

“How dare you insult me!”

“You take insult to me implying you’re an evil tyrant ruling over this realm? I thought you had thicker skin than that, father, that’s what you always taught me. At least tried to.”

Storm colored eyes flashed with a red sheen for only a second. “You’re a disgrace,” he hissed, balling a fist before opening it to kindle a ball of fire in his palm. “A bastard son would have been better than you.”

“You mean like the one you had killed?” he retorted.

The fireball came hurling at him. Rylan released the hold on his knife and threw his hands up to deflect it around him before it burned away to sparks raining down. “The only good your mother ever did was complete her duties as a wife. She betrayed this realm and deserved the fate she received. I would watch your next step carefully, Rylan, for you are on thin ice and treading treason yourself for defying orders. You have one final chance to own up to your name, your position.”

His fists clenched, lowering his hands. “I don’t give a damn about title and position. I don’t give a damn about earning your favor anymore. You were abusive to her, and she did everything in her power to protect me from your wrath and your ruthlessness! I didn’t want the position you gave me in Lucifer’s hunters, I didn’t want to track down innocent witches or warlocks to damn forever to him. I only did it to try to earn your favor.”

The Head Elder’s nostrils flared in fury, another fireball lighting in his hand. “So you are turning your back on your people too? You are going to be a traitor just like your peasant mother and commit treason?”

“You made that choice for me when you told me I had to send my own mother to Hell. The only person who ever truly cared for me.”

“You disgrace,” he spat. “You’re no son of mine.”

The doors banged back open at the same time his father hurled the fireball. Rylan ducked, eyes pulsing to red as he spun to catch sight of the guards rushing him. Shoving magic out in a blast, he managed to push back the guards. Red smoke curled up around his feet and just as he began to flee in a disappearing act he heard the distinct whistle of something metallic flying through the air, then a sharp pain pierce his shoulder at the very last second before he was gone.


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

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A Shadow’s Grip (Wednesday Words 2.1.17)

Welcome to a piece of Wednesday Word’s flash fiction on Darkling Dreams!

A good friend of mine, P.T. Wyant, is doing a blog post every Wednesday called Wednesday Words with a new prompt for a bit of flash fiction writing, just to get in the habit of writing something, anything. (Even if said flash fiction is complete garbage at the time. Garbage is better than nothing though, right?) If you’re looking for some inspiration yourself or just something to aimlessly write, then go check out her blog for this week’s prompt!

With that being said, I am going to share what I came up with for this week’s flash fiction Shard based off a three word combination prompt. So here is my very rough around the edges minute of inspiration based off her prompt. I’d love to hear what you guys think of it!

(Please excuse any errors you may see, I said it was rough around the edges.)

If you’ve never heard of Hoia Baciu Forest in Romania, I dare you to look it up after reading this.

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A Shadow’s Grip

Jezebel stopped in the center of the deadened, clear-cut circle of forest. The ground was cold under her bare feet, a chilling breeze ruffling her skirt and black hair. A full moon provided the only light to see by as she turned in a slow circle, dazed eyes fixated straight ahead for the moment.

Fingertips slid down her arm starting just below her shoulder, gently at first, then with pain as sharp nails dug into her flesh and marred it with scratch marks. Someone, or something, breathed on the back of her neck, sending ice water down her spine. Then it was gone.

She turned her head toward the lingering negative energy of a poltergeist’s presence, but saw nothing, just as she expected. It left goosebumps to rise along her arm, though she wasn’t afraid.

Strangle flashing white lights bobbed within the trees, zipping along and fading among twisted trunks. Some stayed in one place, floating around aimlessly; while others played hide-and-seek and catch me if you can. One could be gone the same moment another appeared as pulsing white orbs waist high and higher.

Discomfort began to creep over her in a suffocating cloak while she stared. Her ears began to buzz from an onslaught of dizziness that left her feeling lightheaded. She could have sworn she heard a disembodied laugh follow the sensation before the air whooshed from her lungs and frigid temperatures sunk into her bones.

Everything went black within her vision like a blindfolded falling over her eyes, and all thought ceased to exist. The last thing she felt was her legs move forward without subconscious command before memory eluded her.

-*-*-

A cold tingle began to bleed back into her body, grey spots popping in her vision. Jezebel blinked slowly. She could see eyes, and opened mouths poised in shrieks before her. Another long, drawn out blink. They were gone. Air rushed back to her lungs and it felt like a shadow unhitched itself from her own. Nausea rose like hot lava in the back of her throat, the taste of bile on her tongue.

Pure exhaustion made her sway on her feet as her energy bottomed out hard. The grey in her vision returned to normal and she looked around slowly. She wasn’t standing where she had been last she recalled. Now she was on the edge of the trees, on the opposite side of the clearing she had walked in on, and she was facing inward as if she had just come out of the trees instead of walking across the clearing.

Stinging flesh pulled her attention away from her new position and her gaze fell down to exposed skin. Red, jagged lines beaded with crimson blood disfigured more than one arm now. Pockmarked burns dotted her skin like a disease with unexplainable rashes outlining it. They reminded her of the land she stood in: perfect circles and disfigured rings resembling twisted trees.

Thunder rumbled overhead suddenly, followed by icy splashes of water. Looking upward she saw darkened clouds of a storm rolling over the moon. Judging by its position now, she had lost hours in which she remembered nothing other than a nails-down-a-chalkboard laugh and a dip in liquid nitrogen.

A twig snapped to her right, then a slinking shadow passed through her peripheral vision. She heard a ghastly shriek, followed by a choking sound echo around her, then felt a wave of cold energy like something had burst. Jezebel turned her head.

“Ghost?” she whispered, searching the growing darkness no longer penetrated by the moon’s eerie glow.

The shadow slithered through the other side of her vision and she turned her head again. Her eyes landed upon a darkened outline of a figure that oozed like black ink dropped in water. Blood red eyes were the only noticeable feature within its wispy, partially translucent mass as it took a step toward her.

“Ghost…” she whispered with infatuation, a hint of a smile gracing her cracked lips.

You returned. The deep, husky voice floated along a sudden gust of wind with prolonged efficiency.

Jezebel reached her hand toward the apparition. “Of course I did. I promised I would. I love you…”

She could have sworn she saw the inky darkness underneath those piercing eyes pull upward in a feral grin, could have sworn she saw the points of two sharp-pointed fangs glisten. Death’s fingers raked through her gut and down her spine. She didn’t move as the shadowy figure approached and stopped to float only inches from her. She shivered when the air around her turned to that of an industrial freezer. Despair clenched her heart, as did an overwhelming terror.

Still she didn’t move save for pulling her hand back when he neared.

Blood red eyes locked on her grey ones and suddenly all the fear and despair fell away. All that was left was an overwhelming need to satisfy her master. Her hand reached up for his shadowy face but an unseen force stopped her, forcing it back down to her side.

My pet… The voice purred along the wind with heavy possessiveness, resonating with misplaced pleasure in her bones. Your life is only mine.

Jezebel stood rigid from the force locking her in place. The shadowy figure closed the gap between them and planted what left like an overly large mouth on her lips, parting them for it. Her body temperature plummeted and her knees weakened until they knocked together. The gasp she uttered never left her throat while her eyes fluttered closed. She could feel herself withering away on the inside, numbness creeping along her limbs bit by bit until her vision began to waver. Her heart thudded then slowed until she could hardly tell it was beating at all. An uncomfortable sensation pulled up from her toes and left through her mouth, quaking her soul in the process.

Blackness crept into her senses faster now, then all sensation snapped and disappeared at the flick of a switch. The touch she felt on her lips pulled back and she just barely focused upon a clearer image of something demonic standing in front of her before her eyes closed and she collapsed.


Now you can find this flash fiction work and others on my profile on Wattpad! Click here for my profile and go dive into a sea of Shards of Imagination!

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