Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Unwilling to postpone their travels any longer than necessary, Dracula is about to reveal something perhaps he shouldn't. See what's happening in this week's chapter of Dracula! Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!

Dracula #34 (7.4)

Avram jumped as a blue bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. Far too close for comfort, it was followed about five seconds later by the requisite thunder. This storm was practically upon them, the rain but a precursor to its fury. Avram was torn between taking Andrei and seeking shelter in order to keep him from seeing what was about to happen and witnessing that same event. While it was true he’d seen Nico display his talents many times over the years, that was a sight he never grew tired of.

The boat began to rock upon the turbulent river like a drunken sailor. Avram still clung to Dracula for balance on one side, Andrei on the other as the heavens showered cold sheets of rain upon them.

“Andrei, perhaps you should go below and make sure everything is fast,” he suggested. He was not surprised when the smuggler made no reply and made no effort to move. His attention was all for Dracula, who had shaken off Avram’s hand and sauntered toward the rail as easily if he were taking a casual stroll in the park.

Apparel oft proclaims the man, to quote the Bard.

Despite the workman’s clothes he wore, now thoroughly drenched, Nicolai cut an imposing figure, silhouetted against the angry sky. Sometimes Avram forgot just how powerful the vampire really was, since there was little need for such display in their everyday lives. But at moments such as these, Nico seemed to possess an almost visible aura, a stark contrast to the almost somnolent attitude he seemed to wear daily. As if life were too much effort for him, at least when they were at home.

Arms outstretched, he raised his hands, palms up, toward the sky. His eyes were closed, as if in concentration.

Avram’s attention was diverted to Andrei. The boatman grabbed his arm just as a gust of wind threatened to topple them both. The boat precariously rode the swell but made no effort to capsize, luckily. “What does he think he’s doing?”

Avram shook his head. He had no words for what was about to happen. Andrei would see for himself in just a moment.

Dracula’s lips were moving, his sonorous voice undulating in unintelligible waves despite the rising wind. Avram had no knowledge of what words were being spoken, or how Nico had come to learn them. He wasn’t even aware of how he had become what he was. But he knew whatever these words were, they possessed a power that emanated from Dracula himself. And he was greatly in awe of that power.

The waves slapped violently against the boat, both Avram and Andrei struggling to keep their feet. But Dracula remained unshakeable, as if anchored to the spot where he stood. He began to gesticulate with his hands, intricate gestures that appeared to be aimed at the storm itself.

Avram noticed the rain first. It began to lessen in intensity until it had entirely ceased to pour upon them. And yet, glancing toward either shore, he could see that rain continued to fall upon the land. As though sudden dispensation had been granted to the river. The very waves had calmed, and the boat no longer rocked. As if the boat had suddenly become a shelter from the storm that raged about them. Not only that, but the sail puffed out with a gentled wind that seemed to invite them to continue their journey.

Dracula turned to face them, his expression unreadable. “Time to go,” he said before he disappeared below deck. Avram wondered if he’d tired himself out with his impressive display. He turned to Andrei, whose mouth gaped open, soundless. But his eyes asked so much.

“He is special,” is all that Avram said as he helped his friend to get the boat under way once more.

 to be continued

Now see what's up with the other Briefers!

Cia Nordwell

J Ray Lamb

 

Saturday is Horror Day #200 - The Others

 The Others

WWII has just ended, and Grace (Nicole Kidman) and her two children, Anne (Alakina Mann) and Nicholas (James Bentley) are living in an isolated old family mansion in the Channel Islands. Grace's husband Charles (Christopher Eccleston) is a soldier. Although he hasn't returned from the war, Grace expects him to arrive any day now. She and the children love and miss him very much.

But an unexpected knock at her door turns out to be the servants she has sent for -  Mrs. Mills (Fionnula Flanagan), Lydia (Elaine Cassidy) and Mr. Tuttle (Eric Sykes). From the beginning of their employment, Grace shows herself to be strict and expects nothing less than complete obedience from them, especially when it comes to following her rules. For example one cannot open a door to a room until the door they've just come through is closed and locked - no exceptions. Also they must be mindful to keep the curtains drawn whenever the children are around as they are extremely photosensitive and the sunlight can cause serious damage to them.

Perhaps because of the house's isolation, Grace becomes convinced that it is haunted. It doesn't help that Anne claims there are people there inside the house, and that she has been in contact with a little boy named Victor. Grace grows more and more sharp-tempered with her children and the servants, as her nerves reach a breaking point. The unexpected appearance of her husband temporarily calms her but even that doesn't last. She knows she's heard people in her house and she is prepared to fight them to protect her children!

I originally watched this movie a long time ago, but as I couldn't remember it very well, decided to give it another watch. This movie has a lot of atmosphere. The direction and cinematography are both excellent, not to mention stellar performances from all involved. Nicole Kidman won an Oscar for her performance and Fionnula Flanagan won one for Best Supporting Actress. Also, this was before I even knew who Chris Eccleston was, so pre 9th Doctor.  I highly recommend watching this film. I give this film 4.5 Stars.

Wednesday Briefs: A Rock and a Hard Place

 Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Today I am going to post a story I actually posted a few years ago, as I am in the process of fine tuning Dracula in order to move forward. I hope you enjoy it again, or for the first time.  Don't forget to visit the other Briefers as well. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!

A Rock and a Hard Place

The smell of toffee was overwhelming. For some reason, it reminded her of stories her great-grandmother told of the Great Molasses Flood. But that had happened back in 1919 Boston and this was 2019 Boston, and never the twain shall meet.

Breathe, just breathe, Carly.

She’d always had an overactive imagination, even as a child, as well as the most unusual interests for someone her age. Her favorite companion had been Richard Feynman, the physicist. It never mattered to her that no one else could see him, she could and that’s what counted. He came to her room and played his bongos and they talked about quantum field theories and other things that went straight over her head. But she was grateful for the companionship. He never made fun of her, always treated her as a person, unlike the others.

Even so, he wasn’t with her now and she wished he was because she was sure she heard footsteps behind her and that made her more than a little nervous. Why had she agreed to go on this scavenger hunt in the first place? Mostly because one of the top prizes was round-trip airfare to the destination of one’s choice. There were restrictions, of course. Had to be continental US, couldn’t be during certain holidays, blah blah blah. But Carly knew just where she wanted to go, had dreamed about going for years—Los Alamos, New Mexico. A place very important to her friend Richard, not to mention his friend, the one he called Oppy.

But she was beginning to think she’d made a very serious error in reading the map. This street was very desolate and not what she’d been expecting. Not to mention there were no other participants in sight, and surely there would be, wouldn’t there. The buildings on either side of the street were dark and foreboding, almost as though they’d lined the windows with black-out material.

Get a grip, Carly, this isn’t WWII London, and this isn’t the Blitz.

She took a deep breath then took a few more steps, listening carefully. Nothing. See? Just her imagination getting the better of her. She breathed a huge sigh of relief. Such a story she would have for Richard when she saw him again.

Wait, what was that? Footsteps, louder this time. Carly’s heart almost burst from her chest.

Get away, gotta get away, gotta get…

She spied a doorway just to her right. Above the door a dingy sign read avern. She assumed the word was tavern and the t had simply melted into oblivion or fallen from view. Either way, it was a public space and she was going for it. She grabbed the handle and pushed. A bell rang, betraying her presence to anyone within.

The first thing she noticed, after pushing the door shut behind her, was the smoke. Hanging in the air like an almost palpable cloud, it reminded her of a London fog. The difference was that this fog smelled sickly sweet. She realized recreational marijuana was legal in Massachusetts, and people were open about smoking it, but this was taking it to an all new level. She could probably get high for free at this rate, if she were given to such things.

“Hey sweetheart, what’s a pretty thing like you doing alone?” a voice leered at her from somewhere in the smoky depths. At the same time, she heard the bell tinkle behind her. She gasped, whether from the unknown danger before her or the possibility her stalker had just found her, she couldn’t say.

Why or why hadn’t she stayed home? She could have found a way to get to Los Alamos somehow. And she wouldn’t be in this precarious predicament.

A hand grasped her wrist. “Come along then, ducky. Let’s find someplace private.” Mr. Lewd and Lascivious again. He was tugging her forward and her inclination was to dig in her heels. But what if the other guy was right behind her? Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

“Let go of me!” she screamed. But her voice didn’t come out as a scream, and she couldn’t even be sure he heard. Or if he did, he didn’t care, as he tried to drag her… who knows where. She felt heavy breathing on her neck. Great, another country heard from. What she wouldn’t give to hear the soothing sounds of Richard Feynman’s bongos right about now.

“You there! Unhand my sister!” Another voice, a quiet yet commanding voice, broke into her panicked thoughts.

From out of the reefer smoke that surrounded them, a figure emerged. A fairly young man of indeterminate age, curly dark hair, pretty blue eyes. He reminded her of Tony Curtis, especially when she caught a glimpse of pearly white teeth.  She knew he wasn’t her brother, but the lecher didn’t know that, naturally.

The newcomer detached the would-be attacker’s grip from her arm with a firmness that would not be denied. The other man grumbled but melted back into the mist, and when she dared to turn her head, no one was there, thank goodness.

“Sorry for the lie,” her rescuer whispered into her ear. “I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds.”

“No, no, thank you,” she reassured him. “You saved me from… well, you know.”

“I know, I know.” His voice was soothing and gentle. “If you don’t mind my saying so, this is not a good place for you, Miss, not at all. Why don’t I see you get somewhere safe?”

He guided her toward the door and they quickly stepped outside into the fresh air.

“What’s your name, Miss?” he asked.

“Carly.”

“Lovely name.” He gave her a very wide, very Tony Curtis smile. “My name is Albert. Albert DeSalvo.”

“Nice to meet you, Al.” She beamed at him. To hell with the contest. She would just go home and call it a night.

She was safe now. And she couldn’t wait to see Richard again.

 Now go see what's up with the other Briefers!

Cia Nordwell

J Ray Lamb

Saturday is Horror Day #199 - Sting

 Sting

Twelve-year-old Charlotte (Alyla Browne) feels as if the weight of the world is upon her shoulders. Her parents are divorced and her father is off in far-away Thailand, while her mother, Heather (Penelope Mitchell) has remarried a man named Ethan (Ryan Corr) and now they have a six-year-old son named Liam (Jett Berry). And Charlotte's grandmother, Helga (Noni Hazlehurst) who lives with her sister Gunter (Robyn Nevin) in the same apartment building, but Helga has dementia and often doesn't know the people who love her. Charlotte is very talented and creative, and she and Ethan are working together on a comic. But Charlotte feels ignored even in this venue. 

One day Charlotte finds a small spider. On impulse, she decides to keep it and raise it, but she neglects to mention anything of its existence in their apartment to either parent. From the beginning, this spider is acting strangely... and it is growing exponentially. Suddenly it's not quite so small and cute, and it's becoming a problem for all living things in this apartment building.

If you suffer from arachnophobia, this probably isn't the film for you. There is only one spider, but it's a doozy. The movie is pretty creepy and definitely keeps you watching to know what happens next. But it also has its humorous moments in the form of Frank the exterminator (Jermaine Fowler), who you might remember from Sorry to Bother You.

But although this is a story about a horrible spider that threatens to consume a family, it's about Charlotte gaining a new understanding and appreciation for what makes a family, and finding her place in it. This is echoed in the story of another neighbor, Maria (Silvia Colloca) who has lost her family and would give anything to have them back. I believe it works on both levels, the acting and directing are decent, and it held my interest. Worth giving a watch, in my opinion. I'll give this film 3.5 Stars. I was able to watch this movie on Hulu. 

Wednesday Briefs: Dracula #34(7.4)

 Good morning and Happy Hump Day! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

Unwilling to postpone their travels any longer than necessary, Dracula is about to reveal something perhaps he shouldn't. See what's happening in this week's chapter of Dracula! Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!

Dracula #34 (7.4)

Avram jumped as a blue bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. Far too close for comfort, it was followed about five seconds later by the requisite thunder. This storm was practically upon them, the rain but a precursor to its fury. Avram was torn between taking Andrei and seeking shelter in order to keep him from seeing what was about to happen and witnessing that same event. While it was true he’d seen Nico display his talents many times over the years, that was a sight he never grew tired of.

The boat began to rock upon the turbulent river like a drunken sailor. Avram still clung to Dracula for balance on one side, Andrei on the other as the heavens showered cold sheets of rain upon them.

“Andrei, perhaps you should go below and make sure everything is fast,” he suggested. He was not surprised when the smuggler made no reply and made no effort to move. His attention was all for Dracula, who had shaken off Avram’s hand and sauntered toward the rail as easily if he were taking a casual stroll in the park.

Apparel oft proclaims the man, to quote the Bard.

Despite the workman’s clothes he wore, now thoroughly drenched, Nicolai cut an imposing figure, silhouetted against the angry sky. Sometimes Avram forgot just how powerful the vampire really was, since there was little need for such display in their everyday lives. But at moments such as these, Nico seemed to possess an almost visible aura, a stark contrast to the almost somnolent attitude he seemed to wear daily. As if life were too much effort for him, at least when they were at home.

Arms outstretched, he raised his hands, palms up, toward the sky. His eyes were closed, as if in concentration.

Avram’s attention was diverted to Andrei. The boatman grabbed his arm just as a gust of wind threatened to topple them both. The boat precariously rode the swell but made no effort to capsize, luckily. “What does he think he’s doing?”

Avram shook his head. He had no words for what was about to happen. Andrei would see for himself in just a moment.

Dracula’s lips were moving, his sonorous voice undulating in unintelligible waves despite the rising wind. Avram had no knowledge of what words were being spoken, or how Nico had come to learn them. He wasn’t even aware of how he had become what he was. But he knew whatever these words were, they possessed a power that emanated from Dracula himself. And he was greatly in awe of that power.

The waves slapped violently against the boat, both Avram and Andrei struggling to keep their feet. But Dracula remained unshakeable, as if anchored to the spot where he stood. He began to gesticulate with his hands, intricate gestures that appeared to be aimed at the storm itself.

Avram noticed the rain first. It began to lessen in intensity until it had entirely ceased to pour upon them. And yet, glancing toward either shore, he could see that rain continued to fall upon the land. As though sudden dispensation had been granted to the river. The very waves had calmed, and the boat no longer rocked. As if the boat had suddenly become a shelter from the storm that raged about them. Not only that, but the sail puffed out with a gentled wind that seemed to invite them to continue their journey.

Dracula turned to face them, his expression unreadable. “Time to go,” he said before he disappeared below deck. Avram wondered if he’d tired himself out with his impressive display. He turned to Andrei, whose mouth gaped open, soundless. But his eyes asked so much.

“He is special,” is all that Avram said as he helped his friend to get the boat under way once more.

 to be continued

Now see what's up with the other Briefers!

Cia Nordwell

J Ray Lamb

 

Saturday is Horror Day #198 - In Her Skin

 In Her Skin

Rachel Barber (Kate Bell) is young and pretty and very well-liked by everyone. Lovely and slender, her passion is dancing, and she takes classes at a local school. Her parents, Michael (Guy Pearce) and Elizabeth (Miranda Otto) adore her. But one day, Rachel does not get off the tram, where her father is waiting to pick her up, and life will never be the same for the Barbers.

Realizing immediately that something is not right, the family contacts the police, but they are dismissive of their concerns, and claim that it hasn't been long enough to be considered missing. That she has probably run away. Rachel's boyfriend Manni (Khan Chittenden) says he hasn't seen her, and neither have her friends. Rachel is too dependable to simply have gone somewhere without letting someone know. But then Manni confesses that Rachel told him she was going to a job that night, one that paid a lot of money but was vey secretive, and that's all he knows. The Barbers are naturally concerned what that might mean.

In Her Skin is based on a true story that took place in Australia in 1999. The stars in the cast are rounded out by Sam Neill, who plays the father of a girl who once babysat for the family, Caroline Reid Robertson, played by Ruth Bradley. The acting is top notch, not surprisingly with such a cast, and the concern for their daughter is palpable. Anyone who has children can relate to how hopeless they must have felt, wondering where their daughter was. As we discover the identity of the killer and watch her own descent into madness, it's difficult to empathize with her, despite her difficult childhood and her feelings of inadequacy and self-loathing. At the end of the day, a young life was taken for no good reason. This is a story that will haunt you afterwards. The seeming indifference of the police is indeed maddening. I would have felt frustrated too.

I think this film is underrated and worth a watch. Just be aware that it is a difficult subject and does not have a happy ending. I'll give this film 4 Stars.

Wednesday Briefs: A Witcher Christman

  Good morning and Happy Hump Day!  Also, Merry Christmas! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.

This week, I bring you a Christmas tale in honor of the season. I hope you enjoy my Witcher Christmas! All the best to you and yours this holiday season!

A Witcher Christmas

“Tell me something. Has Geralt always been so…” Jaskier floundered for words, something he was generally not at a loss for, and finally finished his question with “crotchety?” The petulant bard kicked disconsolately at an object situated alongside the path, then yelped in dismay after discovering said object was a rather hard rock which would not yield to his misguided efforts to dislodge it.

The slim platinum blonde he’d addressed patted Roach’s cheek and briefly nuzzled the patient horse before turning back to her companion. “You’ve known him far longer than I have,” she said bluntly. “You tell me.”

“Well, yes, I know…” Jaskier waffled. “But you’re his… I mean, I’m not…”

“His child of surprise?” Ciri raised blonde brows at him. “Is that what you mean?”

“I suppose so, yes.” The bard scratched at his head, contemplating the cloudless sky with a thoughtful expression before continuing his lament. “What am I really? Other than the man who made the name Geralt of Rivia, the celebrated White Wolf, familiar to hundreds… no, I mean thousands, tens of thousands of people even,  in all the kingdoms and far across the land. Thank you very much.” This last sentence was half muttered to himself, and yet spoken loud enough to be easily heard. “I have suffered his slings and arrows, and endangered my own quite valuable life and reputation on more than one occasion in order to obtain the wondrous tales with which to regale his fascinated followers. And yet, what do I receive for my pains?” He paused dramatically, expectantly even, but was rewarded with silence for his efforts.

With an exasperated sigh, Jaskier reached for a bright red berry that grew on a clumpy bush beside the rock and plucked the fruit. He opened his mouth to prepare entry for his bounty, but the next moment, his hand had been brutally accosted and the berry had fallen to the ground. “Excuse me?” the indignant bard yowled.

“It’s poisonous,” Ciri said simply. And then added, with a knowing twinkle, “You’re welcome.”

Jaskier had to laugh, in spite of his attempts to remain glum. He really was a good-hearted fellow and generally rather happy-go-lucky. But sometimes, especially where Geralt was involved, he could be rather… sensitive. The smile turned into a slight frown.

“Doesn’t he believe in… you know… the season? As in ‘tis the season, good will on earth, and all the other sentimental dribble that makes the rounds at this particular time of year. Well, for just about everyone on earth but Geralt of Rivia, apparently. I composed a particularly well-worded and, if I do say so myself, well-sung composition proclaiming his vast prowess to the world, and what do I get in return?”

“But has he ever given you a gift at any time of the year, much less this one?” the practical Ciri pointed out.

Jaskier could hardly fault her logic, much as he would have liked to. Didn’t mean he was ready to admit to it, either.

“The Countess de Stael never hesitated,” he began but quickly realized maybe that wasn’t his best point of attack, which fact Ciri easily picked up on.

“Geralt isn’t sleeping with you,” she said. “And he also didn’t tell you to go…” She neglected to finish the sentence, for which Jaskier was grateful. He knew what the woman had said, and in just what tone those hateful words had been hurled at him. And while she had failed to wound his tender heart, his vanity had been pierced, which was just as painful, if not more. But in Geralt’s case, it was not vanity which cried out at the witcher’s seeming indifference.

“He’s had a hard life,” Ciri spoke up. “You have no idea what he had to endure to become what he is.” The look she gave him was at least somewhat sympathetic. Perhaps she could be a good influence on her guardian.

At some distant time in the future. By which time, Jaskier would most likely be dead and forgotten, except for a few lonely women whose lives he had enriched by his presence…

“I don’t ask for much,” Jaskier began on a different tack. “And I expect even less. Even so…”

“Even so, you hope.” Ciri’s voice was soft and somewhat gentle. He knew her life had gone to wrack and ruin ever since the death of her beloved grandmother, Queen Calanthe. Before that even, when her parents, Pavetta and Duny, had been lost at sea. She’d been on her own while searching for her destiny, aka Geralt. And although her experiences had toughened her, there still remained a shred of humanity. Something he often failed to find in his friend.

Was Geralt his friend, or did he simply tolerate the bard as a means to an end? The insecure bard pushed the thought away, but it insisted upon returning.

“I hope that he doesn’t just tolerate me,” he said in a rare moment of honesty which surprised even himself. He avoided the young girl’s direct gaze, instead busying himself with the brass buttons on his rather garish tunic instead. The sound of horse’s hooves mercifully brought the painful discussion to a close. Who could this be? Geralt had left on foot, and they were expecting no one else. Perhaps they should… hide?

He darted a nervous glance toward Ciri. She seemed not the slightest bit concerned. But of course, she was used to the unexpected, wasn’t she, after traveling with Geralt.

To his surprise, Geralt rode into view on a horse clearly not Roach. So not like him.

Geralt dismounted and tossed the reins at Jaskier.

“For me?” Jaskier was stunned.

“We need to make better time,” Geralt said abruptly. He mounted Roach and helped Ciri up before him. She gave Jaskier a knowing smile.

“Let’s go.” Geralt turned Roach’s head. Jaskier quickly mounted his gifted steed and followed.

“Merry Christmas, my friend,” he whispered.

And just like that, all was right with the world.