The scream pierced the air. It was not a happy scream like at a birthday party. It was a terrified scream. A scream of horror, like something out of a scary movie or worse. Lacy never thought that she would ever scream like she was screaming now but she was. She was facing her greatest fear, and she was losing. It was a horrible thing to be confronted with something that she had hoped to never, ever see, but she had little choice. Backed up against a wall with no where to go she stared the creature down. It was horrible. Hairy, with slits for eyes; a long snout and talon like claws. The werewolf let out a scream of its own and pounced.
Monthly Archives: October 2010
It was with some trepidation that she walked down the darkened hallway. Something was lurking in the shadows…something that wasn’t good, something that made the hairs on her neck stand up and Joanne Baker would be damned if she let the fear get the best of her. What she was doing, creeping in the dark like she was, was nothing more than a practical joke set out by her roommates.
“It’s nothing but a story,” she told herself as she continued walking down the darkened hallway. “Nothing but a scary story told by older students to us newbies to scare the shit out of us. There’s nothing to be frightened of. Nothing at all…”
A loud bang startled Joanne and she bolted from the hallway, her newly turned on flashlight illuminating her way. Story or no story she knew that something was lurking in that hallway and she wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to put her imagination to the test because if her imagination had been wrong, she would have probably come face to face to something that she really didn’t want to see…
And she would have been right. A ghost did haunt the hallways, and it preferred to be left alone at night.
Taken from the word of the day at dictionary.com
“You’re such a kvetch.”
“I’m a what?”
He bit his lip realizing how his comment sounded. “I meant that you’re a complainer, not a–“
“You shouldn’t be using these big words that I really don’t understand!” she complained, throwing her hands up in frustration. “It’s not fair. I didn’t go to college like you did.”
“I actually went to university,” he began meekly before she cut him off again.
“Now who’s the kvetcher?” she asked. “Complaining about your education.”
He shook his head. “I’m not complaining.”
“Oh yes you are,” she interjected. “You’re complaining. You may not realize that you’re complaining but you are…”
He sighed. “You’re complaining.”
“I’m not,” she insisted for the final time. “So drop it.”
“Alright,” he agreed. “I’ll drop it.”
Taken from the word of the day over at dictionary.com
The documents were inchoate and while most people wouldn’t use that particular word to describe something, as a law student Terace Jenkins didn’t know what word would be more appropriate. The documents were spread haphazardly over the table and were thus not organized. They were also incomplete and it was the incomplete nature of them which was going to cause Patience problems.
“Oh Patience you’re going to have to take our name to heart,” she mused silently to herself as she gathered up what she could with the full intention of putting order to them. Patience Jenkins often hated her name. She thought it was pretentious and stupid and et in ties like this where she needed to take and focus on one bit of advice, repeating her name over and over to herself certainly did the trick. Through the mantra that she had crated she was able to get through and work through any problem which was set before her and the one before her at the current moment was a doozy.
She had been charged by the senior partners at her law firm to do some digging into a major national case and while she had begun to make some major headway into the oppositions case she had just come up against a brick wall. The house that she was in had once been occupied by a chief witness who had died in mysterious circumstances only days before. The house was still wardened off as a crime scene and it was only through some sweet talking that she had been able to get through the cops who were guarding the house.
All of that paled in comparison to the junk of papers that were before her. Recordings of meetings, ideas, memos, half-formed letters it was all here. The secret to her law firms client’s success lay in the inchoate papers and it was going to be up to her to set them all right again.
“What a job,” she mumbled to herself as she placed the papers in her briefcase after which she took off the latex gloves that she were wearing. “What an insane job…”
Okay, so the title is a play on words. Chris Baty has written a book for aspiring novelists entitled No Plot, No Problem and it’s a guide to get you though the craziness of National Novel Writing Month. Now, my problem is that I have too many plots in my head and not enough desire to write any of them. *sigh* NANO is 4 days away and I’m starting to freak….
In the darkness the green things grow…and by the green things, Kayla Hammond knew that there were monsters and nightmares that lurked. She knew that the impossible existed because she had come face to face with them before. She knew that in the darkness one really found what they were made of. When faced with the terror of all terrors was the first instinct to fight or flee? For her, it was a fighting instinct which had served her well. When the first creepy crawlies came out of the darkness her family and friends had fled into the night, and they had payed for their cowardice with their lives. Kayla on the other hand had stepped forward and faced her demons and her demons were the ones who were destroyed.
“Alright ladies,” she began in a firm no nonsense voice as she walked up and down the row of ladies who made up her squad. “In the dark we have a quadraped. It’s fierce and deadly. Use lethal force the first chance you get because you won’t be able to get a second…” she paused to switch on her flashlight, the first line of defence for any MDF agent and she was happy that the rest of her team was doing the same. “Alright girls,” she continued ready to go to work. “Let’s go to the dark.”
She was always amazed at how little friction there was in pottery making. With the wheel spinning and the clay being moulded, her hands felt as they were flying–they were grimy to be sure–but they still felt as though they were flying. Anna-Lee knew that her pottery making skills weren’t up to par, especially not considering the fact that she was comparing herself against the rest of her class, but she did like the appreciative smiles that her relatives gave her at Christmas and on birthday’s when she gave them her little gifts.
“Oh thank you,” they would say. “It’s so…unique.”
And if Anna-Lee knew that deep down ‘unique’ meant horrible she didn’t show it and neither did her teacher Dan Mulligan. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. He spoke with the vaguest hints of an accent which made him so mysterious and so appealing and so incredibly sexy. And best of all, he would always compliment her on her work.
“Well done my Annalee,” he would say, stringing her hyphenated names together in a way that sounded oh so pleasing. “You are improving so well.”
Anna-lee would smile and blush and bat her eyes but she couldn’t say anything more than a squeaky ‘thanks’ before turning back to her work. For some reason Dan made her so tongue tied and while she knew that it was because she was horribly attracted to him, it infuriated her to no end that she couldn’t hold an actual conversation with the man.
“Never mind conversation,” her friends would tell her. “Men are always after one thing.”
Well if Dan was after that one thing, he certainly didn’t go after it with his students. Barely out of his twenties he was the volunteer instructor at the art centre and Anna-Lee knew that if she wanted something to happen with the guy, she was going to have to go after him herself.