The unfinished doodle

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wanted to publish something else but found this old story. Its very short and not finished but i put it up for fun. Hope you enjoy

Submitted: September 11, 2014

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Submitted: September 11, 2014

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Laughter. Laughter. Nothing but laughter. Light. light. Nothing but light. A sound. An echoe. A gentle sound flew high overhead. Sweet summer scents enrichened the air.

 

The sound... it was a voice. Trying to.... to talk to him.

''Paran!?'' ''Paran where are you!?''

Who?What? This voice ... so.... familiar.

''Paran!''

Mother?

''Yes Paran, its mother. Come to me child.''

The air still held the sweet scent. A bright almost pure white light, shone on the groove where the boy stood. Daisies and lillies and old thick willow trees sourrounded him. Butterflies flew in a myrad of paths. Watching them, enticing with the flailing of wings, he almost forgot about the voice.

He strained his small eyes at the now emerging image appearing from the brush.

What he saw was a woman. Beautiful long black hair falling to the small of her back. The face round slightly narrow at the chin.  Her lips full and red like a rose. The eyes a dark color, as if looking into a seemles well. A slim body, with breasts appropriate for the visage. She was the embodiement of beauty.

Adorned in a simple blue garb with a necklace he never before saw. It radiated a deep darkish red hue.

''Mother?''

The woman let out a soft hiss. ''Yes child. This is she. Come closer Paran''

''Mother. You're scaring me.'

She put out a hand, an invitation. ''Come Paran, take my hand.''

The boy was unsure. The woman, though in corporeal form appearing as his mother, was not how he remembered her. This womans eyes were hard, intense, old. He saw in them pain only a child could see. Deep, deep pain.

The woman was becoming impatient ''Come Paran!'' she hissed.

Startled, he took a step back. Then another.

In a flash she was suddenly upon him. ''I told you to come!''

Petrified, he started pulling at her hair, biting the hand that covered his face.

He managed to pull a bit of hair. Holding it in his hand it started to malform. Evaporate.

The woman hissed, began to change form. Her face twisted inward as if being sucked by a hole. The torso formed into one with wide shoulders, smaller hipps and breasts. Hands gaining in mass and weight the apparition squezzed the boy draining the breath from his lungs. He was dying. He could not yell for help. Not that anyone would hear.

Darkness overwhelmed him.

 

 

...............................................................................................................................................

 

 

''Help!''

It was dark. The moonlight, reaching trough the window. was casting an eerie glow to the air.

The cowers and matrice were soaked with his sweat. Shivering he let out another yelp. ''Help!''

No reply.

Looking arround he could see the outline of a cupboard edged in the corner of the room.

Twitchy was there, his pet kitten.It was lying on the piece of furniture. His fear always washed away when he pet it.

Slowly Paran made his way towards the feline.  Every step took a bit of nerve and the ever creaking floor wood, took that bit away. The cats shape could be seen as a black ball in the darkness. It was stil, probably sleeping. Paran edged closer and closer heart still racing from the dream. He was soaked and shaking as a draft made its way into his room.

As the boy closed in on the cupboard he felt something sticky at his feet. Something warm. Like honey but not as dense. He reached out for the cat. The animal did not move, not even flinch. It was warm, wet, different to the touch. Paran went closer, until Twitchy was an inch from his face. He stood there for what seemed like days. As the moonlight shifted on the cupboard Paran let out a scream, stumbling back, falling on the floor. The animal was dead. Torn inside out by an unknown force. Legs pointing unnaturaly at every angle.Eyes melted in the sockets like snow in a sun-lit cravice. Shocked he started screaming for help, for mother, for father, for anyone. And yet noone came. The house was lifeless.

 

 

.......................................................................................................................................................

 

The cackling of crows could be heard high in the air. Above the wheat fields they hung mocking the scarecrow. In the background the clouded sky, it made for a contrast fitting of night and day. The scent of the now passing summer bringing a beatific smile upon Yorens face. Sitting on a small wagon pulled by a donkey, a pipe in one hand the reins in the other. A pointy hat to cover his face from the now missing sun. Dressed in gray-white robes, with slip-on shoes, old white hair and big bushy beard. He radiated a kind of peacefullnes. Looking no more than a simple, mayhaps a bit old, traveler , he continued down the dirt road accosted with weeds, a song on his lips.

'' And in the meadows shade of green, i shall dine upon the fittest game. The wine shall pour, forever more until my bellys ache shall be adorned!...''

He spotted an inn not a mile ahead. A unexpected sight so far inland. These paths were not the most traversed. Upon further inspection of the surroudings he could tell that the focus was farming. The wheat fields probably belonged to the owners. With his ever pleasing manner he continued down the rout.

……………………………………………………………………………………………....

 

 

The farm was a story high, made of oakwood and wheat. The doors were big round abominations of a sight, slightly cracked. The windows were all oddly condensed. Yoren made his way into the house.

He stepped in what looked like a kitchen. A table clearly homemade and three chairs sorrounding it. A piece of hard bread was sitting on the counter next to a hanging piece of lamb. Strange as lamb was hard to come by here and the farm clearly didnt posess any livestock. A heartstone was in the middle of the room, ashes pilled at the mouth.

 

 

 


© Copyright 2020 papizdano. All rights reserved.

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