Tag Archives: Fantasy

Life without Tumblr – Part 12

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Part One can be found here.

This time, his voice was the sound of the coffin creaking slowly open, to reveal the dirt above where she’d been buried alive. God, it was like some bloody Steven King novel in her head. He was laughing, shoulders shaking, and Martin’s words came back to her. He was trying to scare her, to make her feel weak. It was all an act. ‘And you can’t stop me.’

He moved, without moving, and was right in front of her, glaring balefully down. Her heart was racing, her mouth dry like ashes. She screwed up her eyes, muttering, ‘there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.’ She peeked, and whimpered at the face, inches from hers, top lip curled in a sneer. She hadn’t seen him move.

She bit her lip, the taste of blood bringing her back from the brink. She opened her eyes, and stared back. He hadn’t moved, and she could see the lines that ran from the corners of his eyes, the tiny burst blood vessels that crept spider-like across his eyes. He was old, and tired. She glanced round and saw mum, staring at them with wide, frightened eyes. This wasn’t going to happen. Somewhere, far away, her computer was waiting for her to update her status, and there was no way she was missing the chance to talk about this.

‘You smell of fear and weakness, little girl.’

‘Yeah, and you smell of shit, and old age, and hate, and there’s no place for you in my world.’

His thick eyebrows raised, his snarl growing, but there was something else in his eyes, a flicker that hadn’t been there before. She hoped it was doubt or fear, and not indigestion. ‘We’re leaving here, me and Martin and my mum. You should get rid of the cage now.’

He was going to hit her, like he hit Martin, and he’d rip her head off. She screwed up her face, waiting for the blow. Instead, he spoke. ‘What can you give me for your mother, what do you have to trade?’

‘How about I forget I know your name, once we’re home, and I burn that page?’

The demon cocked his head to one side, nodding slowly. ‘That might be enough.’

Was he bluffing? Martin had said his name was power and… what exactly had he said? Dammit, it was either that she had, like, complete control, or just that it was quite useful. She couldn’t remember which. Sod it. She thrust her chin out and stared at him. ‘How about I say it’s enough, and you say ‘thank you’?’

The demon hissed, raising a hand. She stood still, her legs shaking so hard she expected to topple over at any moment. Then he stepped back, and waved a hand. Mum’s shouts exploded into the room as she charged over. ‘Get the hell away from my daughter!’

The demon turned to her, hand raised again, and time seemed to slow down. Scarlet saw his clenched fist begin to move, and heard her own voice, long before her brain caught up. ‘NO!’ It came from deep within her and carried something, power, like the smell before a storm.

He froze, turning slowly to face her, lips drawn back in a snarl. ‘You dare command me?’

Next instalment: Monday 4 November

Life without Tumblr – Part 11

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Part One can be found here.

‘Hang on, why don’t you do this?’

Martin smiled wryly. ‘This is your path, your road to tread. I will be here beside you, but it is you that must make this happen.’

‘Why?’

He nodded with his head toward the cage, and she stared at mum for a moment. OK, fair enough. The urge to hug her was rapidly becoming the urge to shout at her, and maybe slip in a punch or two as well. She looked up at Martin. He nodded, and she lifted the book, and read the name.

The sound was like the creaking of an old rollercoaster, the squeal of tired metal and the screams of terror that accompanied it. The smell was far worse. It reminded her of the crow that had died in the chimney. She’d been really young, but she could still remember the men coming and opening up the old fire place and taking this body out, and as they knocked through the wall, the smell that came out had made her gag and shiver at the same time. This smell was like that, just nastier.

The figure that appeared was… slightly disappointing. When Martin had called it a demon, she’d expected horns and red and fire. He was tall, admittedly, and wearing the most ludicrous robe thing, like a bad Lord of the Rings cosplay, but his skin was pastey, and she thought he might fall over, given a hard push.

He stared at them, eyes fixed on the book in her hand. She tucked it into her belt and stared back. The fear she’d expected had yet to arrive. Which was nice. Then he spoke.

‘You are pretty like your mother, plenty of meat on your bones. Why are you here, little girl?’

He sounded like children, ripped from the womb, and falling bombs, and the land where illness so grievous had visited no one lived there any more, and where the hell was she getting these weird images from and why were her hands shaking? She had stepped backward, Martin now a few paces in front of her, and her hands were held out, palms out as though to block the demon.

Before she could blink, the person/demon/vampire wannabe took a step, and his hand flashed out. It struck Martin hard enough to lift him off his feet and send him flailing across the hall and into the wall. She shouted, hand covering her mouth, wincing.

Her protector raised his head for a moment, and then slumped down, unconscious or near enough for it not to matter. She took a deep breath, her gaze settling on her hands, still stretched out, and still shaking. God, he was going to kill her, here in this bloody horrible place, and no one would know. They’d be listed as missing persons and turn up on milk bottles and lampposts. She didn’t want to be on a lamppost. Why the hell was she here, what did she think she was going to do?

The demon took a step forward, and it took everything she had to not turn and run. Instead she stared at its eyes, at the sharp blackness hiding beneath thick brows, and bit her lip.

‘I’m here to take my mum home.’

Next instalment: Friday 1 November

Life without Tumblr – Part Ten

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Part One can be found here.

He shook his head. ‘There’s no way we can open this. It was created by the demon, and only he can unmake it.’

‘Why imprison someone in somewhere they can never get out of?’

Martin looked at her, eyebrows raised. She spread her hands apart. ‘What? Come on, really, even when they say you have a life sentence, you still get released after, like, ten years. It’s ridiculous. Surely if he brought her here, it was for a reason, not just to leave her in a cage?’ She was shouting, and turned back to mum, putting her hands out. It was freaky her being in there, still shouting, still silent, and she had the sudden need to hug her, which was even freakier.

‘I think that life sentence means something a little different here. But as dramatic as it sounds, unmaking the cage would be the act of a simple thought for the demon that resides within this castle, easier than turning a key.’

She nodded. ‘So, what, we have to find him?’

Martin glanced around the large hall, brow furrowed. When he turned back to her, she winced at the look on his face. ‘I don’t wish to sound negative, nor do I suggest we shouldn’t do this, but finding the demon may prove to be a very foolish move. He is powerful, and we have nothing, no bargaining chip, no reason why he shouldn’t just imprison us also.’

‘So why did mum come here in the first place?’

Martin shrugged. ‘That would be very useful to know, but the prison does more than trap her body, it retains every part of her essence, hence why we cannot hear her voice.’

‘Did you actually just say ‘hence’?’

He nodded, looking offended, then shook his head and looked around the room. She pulled out the spell book, leafing through to the page she had stopped on, and scouring it. Surely there would be something in there to give away why mum thought she would be safe here. ‘So, what sort of things could we use to bargain with?’

Martin held his hand out, ticking things off on his fingers. ‘First, ourselves. They want humans, more than anything, so you could trade yourself for your mum.’

She snorted, and felt instantly guilty. Martin ignored her and went on. ‘You could have some sort of magical artifact, something that possessed power. You could have information; knowledge of something the demon is interested in. Of course, if you know its name, you have a real advantage. It isn’t a guarantee, but it gives you a good head start.’

He peered over her shoulder, just as she turned the page, and they were presented with a word that made her want to be sick. It was written in English, but the letters writhed and twisted on the paper, as though they needed to escape. She began to read it and he clapped his hand over her mouth. Ow, that hurt. ‘Ow, that hurt, what the hell?’

‘That is his name. We are most fortunate, but once you have read it, he will be here, and we need to be ready when that happens.’ He leant forward until his head was level with hers, and he stared into her eyes. ‘Listen to me, Scarlett, this is important. He will try everything to convince you he is in control, that he can do whatever he wants, and he will terrify you.’

She sniffed. ‘Not sure there’s much that will scare me after that fog stuff.’

He shook his head. ‘The fog, the noises, were nothing compared to him, trust me. He is pure evil, squashed into some semblance of a living being, but evil nonetheless. Just remember, you have his name. You are in control.’

Next instalment: 30 October

Life without Tumblr – Part Nine

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Part One can be found here.

The darkness was broken by two lanterns, flaming torches that guttered low, casting an uneven light across the floor. She noticed, and wish she hadn’t, that the floor was slightly soft, and the colour of dried blood. What was it with the dodgy horror metaphors? It was dark brown, that’s all it was. It was squishy though, like wet grass. That was better, wet grass was ok. Unless it was wet with blood, of course.

She shook her head, swearing quietly to herself, and rushed to keep up with Martin as he strode away down the tunnel. The darkness was relieved, here and there, by more torches, which did little more than chase shadows around, chasing her imagination down nasty little holes. She grabbed his hand, ignoring the look he gave her.

They emerged from the tunnel into a huge hall, the walls lined with tapestries, more flaming torches thrusting out from the walls. She stared at the tapestries, and blinked, looking closely. They were moving, the figures writhing, and doing things… ewww, that’s nasty, really nasty. She didn’t want to see stuff like that.

She turned her eyes to the end of the hall, and broke into a run. Mum was at the end, slumped against the back of the cage, eyes closed. Scarlett was halfway there when the fog came down. The hall around her disappeared, hidden by a thick white blanket. She stopped, turned, and held her hand up in front of her. She couldn’t see it, she couldn’t see anything.

‘Martin!’

Her voice was swallowed, the shout sounding like she’d barely spoken. She started walking, then stopped as she heard it, a scratching that made her wrap her arms around herself and burrow her face into them.

‘MARTIN!’

Still nothing, and the sounds were getting closer, the scratching of feet on the floor, but feet was the wrong word. Claws. She broke into a run, panting as the sweat poured off her. Her foot caught something on the floor and she went down, hands outstretched. She screamed as they struck the floor, the softness giving just enough so her wrists didn’t break, then her entire body smacked down with a thud.

She moaned, sitting up and rubbing her nose, and fell silent. The skittering was louder now, all around, getting closer. She screamed. Arms wrapped around her and she lashed out, flailing about with her arms and legs.

‘Easy, easy, it’s me, it’s Martin, calm down, please.’

She stopped, looking at the arm wrapped around her chest. Yeah, that was him. OK. She took a deep breath, followed by another. ‘Can you hear them? What are they?’

‘There’s nothing here, you’re listening to your fears. Remember the hall, remember the tapestries.’

At mention of the tapestries, she blushed, and giggled. ‘You noticed them too, huh?’

He laughed as the fog cleared. It didn’t drift away, it just went, transparent.

‘What happened?’

‘Castle defences, I think.’

‘Isn’t that, like, boiling oil and stuff.’

He shook his head. ‘The boiling oil thing is a myth actually. In medieval times, oil was far too expensive to throw on people. It was normally boiling water.’

‘Really? That’s, like, fascinating, really.’ He either missed the sarcasm, or chose to ignore it, waving a hand toward the cage. Mum was standing up, hands wrapped around the bars. She was shouting, a smile on her face, but Scarlet couldn’t hear anything, which was both weird and oddly pleasant. It was like having a volume control for mum. Yay!

She rushed over to the cage, Martin just behind, and searched around for a door. The bars travelled from floor to ceiling, a ring of them embedded deep in the concrete. How the hell had she got in there? She waited as Martin did a closer inspection, and groaned when she saw his face.

 

Next instalment: Monday 28 October

Life without Tumblr – Part Eight

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Part One can be found here:

They wound round and through the valley, sometimes losing sight of the sky as the slopes went vertical and crowded above them. The scrub faded away, leaving nothing but bare rock. Her feet ached. Walking wasn’t something you were supposed to do for any length of time, like, ten minutes, max. This guy was a torturer. He’d brought her here as some sort of evil cross-country challenge, some sick plan between him and mum to help her get fit.

She was about to turn and tell him, when the valley opened up, the walls replaced with a plain, stretching away to the slate-grey sky. Squatting slap bang in the middle of the space was a castle. An actual, turrets, battlements, portcullis castle.

‘Yeah, alright, that’s not bad.’

Martin laughed. ‘It’s funny you should say that because actually, it is.’

She looked up at him, eyebrow raised.

‘It’s rare for a demon to be quite so overt with their presence here. He must be powerful.’

The second eyebrow followed the first. ‘Sorry, confused. Demon? Powerful? Um, huh?’He nodded, quite calmly, as though she’d asked him about the weather. ‘Yes, most demons, despite their bragging as and when they get to earth, live in holes in the ground, or maybe a little shack. There aren’t many I know of that live in something like that.’

She put a hand on his arm, mmm, muscley. ‘Where are we?’

He looked at her. ‘You really need to ask?’

‘Yes, I really need to ask.’

‘Hell.’

‘Jokes.’

‘No.’

‘Oh. So, like, actually hell, you know, where the devil lives and all that?’

He nodded again, smiling slightly. She thought about slapping him, then decided against it. He was actually quite nice, when he wasn’t being completely infuriating. She thought she should probably be more surprised, or scared, or something, about where they were, but she just couldn’t summon up the energy. He waved a hand out across the plain.

‘It doesn’t look much like the pictures, does it?’

‘I don’t know, could do with a bit more fire, but otherwise, you know, dark, scary. Seems to work to– Why did you bring me to hell, you crazy?… uhh, you’re mad, completely mad, Jesus.’

He patted her shoulder, smiling sheepishly, and pointed at the book she still clutched in one hand. ‘Because your Mum’s here.’

‘If Mum ended up in hell, she deserves to stay here for being so bloody stupid.’

She turned away from him and stomped across the open stone. He came alongside and they headed toward the castle in silence. Only when its long shadow fell across them did she get the urge to run. This was, without doubt, the stupidest thing she’d ever done, which was an impressive claim. Martin put a hand on her shoulder and the warmth of it gave her some small hope, kept her moving.

‘What’s the plan?’

‘I can locate your mother, once we’re inside. I’m hoping we can slip in without the demon knowing we’re here.’

He stepped up to the door, and tried the handle. With a creak like an opening coffin, the door swung inward, pulled by an invisible hand. With one last look at the dying sky, she stepped into the castle.

Next instalment: Friday 25 October

Life without Tumblr – Part Seven

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Part One can be found here.

He handed her the book, open to the page. ‘Simple. Read the words, and think about your Mum. Also, hold my hand.’

He held out his dirt-stained fingers and she made a face, then let her hand rest on his. He closed around it, squeezing it tight and she had to work hard to not pull away. She read, sounding each word out carefully. Surely they just made it up as they went along, this was complete gibberish.

The sage was lit, and the room filled with a nose-itching tang that made her fidget. A light came up from the floor, like the dodgy sunken spots they had in clubs. It grew stronger, until the entire room was glowing, pale blue. It was getting more like a club every second. She half expected to be barged in the back by some cow with a beer and a glow stick, then she squeezed her eyes closed as it became brighter still.

‘Step forward, Scarlet, step through the light.’

His voice was different, stronger, clearer, and she moved as he told her, nervous steps until the soft carpet vanished and she heard the click of her shoes on stone. The light went, just like that, and she blinked, looked around, and yelped.

They were in a valley. Sharp slopes of stone, dotted with dull scrubby bushes rose on both sides. She shivered. Why the bloody hell hadn’t she brought a coat? The path they stood on looked like something out of a Tim Burton movie, winding and sunken, and heading into the gloom of the narrowing canyon. The sky above was the same colour as the floor, and felt just as close.

She sniffed. There was a smell she couldn’t place. Something like the Chem labs at school, only with the vaguest hint of cheap perfume. So just like the labs then. She turned and jumped again.

His raggedy clothes were gone, replaced by dark, rich leather that fit like a glove. Her worst fears were true. He was buff, like, really hot. His hair was tousled and disturbingly well-cut. ‘Who are you?’

He chuckled. ‘You’ve already asked me that. My name is—‘

‘Martin, but you can call me sugarplum, blah blah, yeah, you already said that too. OK, what are you?’

He smiled. ‘A better question. I help people, people in the kind of trouble your Mum is in, stuff the police can’t help with.’

‘Why?’

The smile left his face as he shook his head. ‘Some things are best left alone.’

She folded her arms, and stared at him. He stared right back, and she blushed. ‘OK, fine, fair enough. So why did you need me, I mean, couldn’t you just do this yourself?’

He nodded. ‘I could, but what would you have learnt?’

‘Oh for fu—‘

‘Life is growth, Scarlet, growth and change. You mother changed, not so long ago, and found a new life for herself. It was one she didn’t want to share with you, for fear of what it might lead to. Was she right?’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. From my experience, the unknown can be far more dangerous than a little knowledge, if that knowledge is taught correctly. You have power, just like your mother, and you needed to be introduced to it.’ He smiled. ‘And, after all, it is your Mum.’

She looked at the floor, then back at him, and nodded. ‘Yeah, guess so. OK, what now?’

He motioned past her down the path. She turned, and sighed. It was dark, the path winding out of sight as the cliffs closed in, and the very sight of it made her shudder. Things never went well in places like this. He set off and she hurried to keep up, falling into step beside him. As the path grew narrow, he slowed, letting her take the lead. Oh joy.

Next instalment: Wednesday 23 October