Here's to spooky day!

 

Tartarology, Phasmophobia & Bomullock

 

Excerpt: Orphan - Who is Iris Hill?

 

IRIS HILL STEPPED on the pedal, pumping it. It took a while for the car to respond, but eventually the green city commuter lurched forward. She hated it, but funds no longer permitted an upgrade. This was her transport now, had been for fifteen years … not that she even recalled the years already gone by between buying this at an auction and her current position. Sometime after year two alone, her memory started playing tricks on her. What was, was no longer part of her reality. It wasn’t illness of a kind with a fancy medical name –as folk whispered to each other in the butchery the other day – it was deliberate. Iris did not want to remember her past and therefore she locked everything away, even the moments spent on a lot bidding for a five-year-old baby sedan.

The car swivelled, losing traction on the gravel.

Swearing, she stomped on the pedal again, the other one, the one that brought the vehicle to a halt, but missed it and lunged ahead instead.

A young boy flashed into view, and Iris screamed, seeing him grow alarmingly larger in her sights. Huge blue eyes swung her way, as panicked.

She stomped and stomped, and screamed.

  

ADIN HURTLED SIDEWAYS into the brush, suffering slashing from sharp branches, and bruising his knees as he landed on rough stone. A green swirl filled his vision, causing him to cover his face. A strangely dulled scream filled the surrounds, eclipsing all birdsong, even the pounding of his heart.

The world stilled.

All sound vanished, and life fell into breathlessness.

A car door slammed extra loudly, jerking him back to life.

“Boy! Where are you? Are you okay?”

The woman’s voice was deep. He expected it to be shrill, but that was probably perception based on the sound of screaming. Where had she come from? He could swear her tyres made no sound on the gravel road as she approached. Maybe he had been careless in his attention, rapt in the sight of so much nature.

He crawled from scratching twigs, searching for her. She had been as terrified as he was. There was a chance she needed him to be as fine as he needed her to be on her way and leave him alone. She wouldn’t do that until she saw him.

The old and dinged thing she drove listed to one side, hanging into the ditch on the opposite side of the road. He noticed the ditch when he chose this backwater rural lane, and opted to walk on the incline side, where trees grew, and grass. Lots of grass, and wildflowers. He liked grass. Grass was far easier to sleep on than a concrete step in a city.

Another swirl entered his field of vision, this one greyed out black rather than dusty green. A swish of too much material became a dress. Adin stared at her dress. She was like a witch from the tales with her long robe billowing out in the breeze.

He shuddered, wondering if she wanted to eat him.

Pointed red shoes appeared under the rim of her mighty dress affair, causing him to smile. That wasn’t a sign of evil; that was a sign of cheekiness.

Adin looked up … into the kindest green and brown flecked eyes he had ever seen. It wasn’t her eye colour that got him, for he had seen eyes of every colour in his short life, it was her kindness. She exuded it. Stranger still, he knew it as kindness.

“I’m okay,” he said, but his words emerged croaked and broken.

Arms akimbo, she studied him. Her hair was dark, far darker than her dress, and all she needed was a pointy hat, and she would be a witch. Freckles covered her face, though, and he couldn’t make out wrinkles. Maybe not so much a witch, then. Maybe she liked to play dress-up.

“No, you’re not fine. We need to see to all those scratches and your poor knees. And I think you’re hungry and thirsty.”

Yes, he was, but he wasn’t going anywhere with anyone.

He drew himself up. “I’m fine.”

“What’s your name?”

“What’s yours?”

Grinning, she said, “Iris Hill. I live up there.” She pointed to a space above his head.

He craned around, but couldn’t see anything other than trees guarding the road. When he faced here again, she had one eyebrow raised.

“Adin,” he muttered.

“Adin who?”

“Don’t know.”

“Ah.”

In that ‘ah’ was a world of understanding, as if she knew exactly what he meant, as if she had once walked the same path in life as he now did. He stared at her.

She glanced at his knees weeping thin trails of blood. “Adin Stone, is that your name?”

Nodding vigorously, he swallowed. She did understand.

“Well, Adin Stone, we gave each other a fright. I need help getting my car back on the road and you need help with your injuries. Shall we make a deal? I help you first and then you help me? Tomorrow you can be on your way again, but I’d welcome the company at dinner tonight, if that’s okay with you.”

This time he nodded slowly.

Man, she read him too well.

An orphaned boy searches for a lost girl.

A woman abandons her new-born at a motel in the back of beyond. Adin grows up unloved, bullied, and no one remembers him. He doesn’t exist.

Until he sees a poster for a missing girl on a lamppost. There is an instant connection to little Sunflower, kidnapped for ransom, only to disappear after the money is paid. He exists because he must find her. Alone, he searches, a journey that takes him into the wild places, meeting along the way some interesting characters.

In dreams he speaks to her, for she is the one who will remember him.

THE ORPHAN

Caturday: Because it was just Black Cat Appreciation Day

 

October (Irish)

 

Tolkien

 

Drogulus & Pneumatophony

 

Feast Night

 

Happy Halloween!

🎃😈👻💀🎃

The town of Flarant is abandoned to its fate, year after year. Year after year the people of Flarant lose their children to the ghosts and ghouls on All Hallows Eve. They cannot flee. They are beyond all hope. And then a stranger enters the town in the days leading up to the event. This year, there is difference in the air. This year, the children are not alone.

🎃👻🎃

#halloween #shortstory #trickortreat #ghosts #ghouls #WhoWillSaveThem #mustread #BestHalloweenStoryEver

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08L44B3PY

Actors with their stunt doubles

 

Shakespeare's Halloween?

 

Sexiest thing in the world

 

What's a witch?

 

If only ...

 

Lore Excerpt: UNICORN

 

Frozen Forest

 

IT WAS EVEN COLDER when he headed out into the dark. Torrullin cursed as he stumbled over roots and branches, but dared not create light to ease his path. It took hours in the cold and dark to situate every trap in a wide perimeter and to draw the shield to encompass all, but eventually it was done, and he could head back. The lure of hot coffee was an all-consuming need.

As he approached the gate something new in the environment drew his attention. Until then the forest was filled with the usual night sounds - owls, scuttling creatures, a flap of wings, squeaks - and now everything was silent. That kind of quiet generally occurred when something new was in the region and the creatures waited to see whether it meant danger or something to be safely ignored. This silence went beyond what was there while he tramped around.

He could not see, but he could feel.

First came the silence, and he stood still.

Then came hot breath on his cheek.

He did not react, but his heart jerked wildly. He made no move.

Lorinin.

His heart thumped hard. Gods. “Who are you?”

What am I?

Fine. A game. What are you?

A slight glow appeared over his left shoulder. He turned with exaggerated care. The glow strengthened and took form. This time his heart threatened to burst from its confines.

You are surprised.

Torrullin placed a hand over his heart. More than words can describe.

It was a creature of myth and legend. The purity of goodness. The beauty of tireless strength. A unicorn. White, ethereal and incredibly beautiful. It made no sound as it moved to stand in his field of view, its hooves silvery and seeming to float above the forest floor. A horn of incredible simplicity glowed faintly blue from the centre of its forehead and long lashes swept over pale sad eyes as it studied Torrullin.

Many years ago, the little flower needed aid.

Rose. You created her citadel.

I could not feed her. I wish I could have fed her.

She survived. Today she is strong.

I am glad.

Is this your domain? Torrullin asked.

We do not claim domain, Lorinin. We are and we are not.

You call me Lorinin.

Your blood sings with song so glorious the multiverse awaits the next note with breathless anticipation.

He was out of his depth. This creature spoke of the multiverse; it thus transcended every barrier. My song must be filled with fury.

No.

I do not understand.

The time comes. Go forth now and find the Danae. I shall guard your charges. No harm shall befall them on my watch. I shall answer every question you may have, I promise, but you must ask it with the Danae at your side. He needs you more than you need clarity.

Where is he? Do you know?

The storm has gathered and must unleash. In havoc will new tools be forged. Enter the void of lifelessness, Torrullin Lorinin Valla.

Elianas is in the void?

He may be tracked from inside. Energy of that magnitude holds what he is together.

I must do this alone.

The magical head dipped. The seer would not survive it.

How much time do I have?

Never enough.

Torrullin moved closer.

The unicorn retreated. Stay in place. It is hard to maintain the light under your shield.

Torrullin halted.

Other spaces may be forced onto your plane of confrontation.

Why?

I am not a farseer, Lorinin, but I offer this advice. Bring what you need together and do so without hesitation. It places your song above all, and thus they must listen.

How do I do this?

The Danae knows.

He threaded a hand through his hair. He seemed to do that with regularity in this new present. Gods. Concentrate. Elianas possessed a greater answer. Was that what their games were about?

Elianas Danae is not aware that he knows.

How do I then ask the question?

You ask nothing. You touch.

A wry laugh erupted from his throat, loud in the silence. Please elaborate.

There was no sound and no movement for many minutes. The unicorn stood as if frozen, but its glow did not dissipate. Clearly it was thinking. Perhaps it, too, knew moments of self-doubt. I shall now do something I may not have the right to interfere with, and yet I trust this will aid you in forging the tools of the future. Please wait.

Torrullin waited, and wondered what that communication meant. The unicorn pulsed with shivering light, and it moved forward swiftly. It halted a breath away from him and transformed into a column of light. An instant after, Torrullin suffered a hard tug at the centre of his gut, and looked convulsively down.

A flowing river of gold translucence bridged the tiny space separating them, joining them. Then he was emptied, and flew back to land hard up against a tree. Snow shuddered on the branches overhead and tumbled over him. Shaking and spluttering, he straightened.

The unicorn had retaken form, but now a faint golden glow emanated from within the white silver. The Goddess of Souls is removed.

Motionless thought assailed him then. It meant absolute change.

Touch is safe, Lorinin.

No, it was not. Every temptation could now be bridged.

He is not your brother. He is your Eternal Companion, as you are his. Touch is safe. Touch, and your answer will be there.

This changes all.

The time for that is due.

Perhaps. Torrullin nearly hyperventilated in the onset of emotions, of questions … of need.

For years and ages, the battles have run and they were fought and there was result, and nothing altered. The same questions plague and the same answers disappoint. Personalities of the past have intertwined into this time and others, and it is time to be free of them and what remains stagnant. Unleash the storm, Lorinin, and allow the song freedom. It is the right moment to change the concept of time.

Time?

Yes.

I do not understand.

The Danae knows. Ask.

Touch?

No, ask this of him direct. He must then answer.

He was afraid to. Elianas was not easily confronted.

My time in light is at an end. The glow that was the unicorn began to fade. I have the watch, do not fear, and we shall again speak. Bring the Danae.

The forest was dark, a greater dark than before, and gradually the sounds of normality intruded to prove the state of otherness had passed. Torrullin stood in that dark and carefully examined every thought shared, and understood he had no choice.

In a nowhere place, everything is possible.

 At the time of Tianoman Valla’s Naming, a blue sphere hovers in the scrying bowl, along with a silver cathron in an ebony floor. The time for that future is due, for beyond realms and the known universe, a mighty manipulation commences, and it assumes the form of blue spherical space.

 This is a Nowhere Sphere.

 Tianoman is kidnapped by an enemy believed dead, and taken to the place where a silver cathron knocker lurks in the darkness of a polished surface, where also a crucible swirls in vapour, creating within an entity that cannot be permitted life.

 An entire planet is vaporised, and souls scream for release in the aftermath. As Torrullin Valla’s memory returns after the event on Echolone, his ability to forgive is buried in the layers time has laid down, and now he needs to care, to feel again, to forgive. He must travel the void created by anti-matter to find not only Tianoman and the other Vallas, but also Elianas Danae, for he will suffer most.

 In Nowhere, everything that moves in hearts, minds and souls will become the answers Torrullin requires to again known himself. It will also unmask the Danae.

 

THE NOWHERE SPHERE

Eldritch & Gytrash

 

Caturday: Spooky

 

The sauce won't taste the same

 

To know the earth as poetry

 

You best have dragons

 

Do not disturb the water

 

ECHO update (and more images)

Now approaching 70k!

The Echolone Mine: Standing Stones

 

Lethe

 

HOW LONG THE blackness lasted would never be known and never discussed. For a time, they were oblivious to time, space and each other. They were together somewhere and so apart the state of togetherness would eternally remain unmentioned. Only those able to see beyond the boundaries knew how proximity did not imply connection and they, naturally, never told. Still, let it be said the three men were beyond usual intelligence and thus not without suspicion of the state of separation.

When the alien dark receded like water pulling back from a beach, they were in a rough circle of standing stones. The stones and the configuration thereof were a protection mechanism, and they knew it, but as awareness returned, they looked at each other as if questioning the nature of life itself.

Elianas’ eyes hooded. He lay beside Torrullin. Those silvery eyes stared down at him from a seated position. Feeling vulnerable, he cleared his throat, pushed up to sit and look around. Tristan sat cross-legged nearby staring at the two of them as if attempting to determine a great secret. Beyond Tristan were the standing stones and beyond that was nothing. Nothing.

“Where are we?” Elianas asked. He deliberately did not move. Those silvery eyes had not left him and now filled with knowing amusement. Elianas frowned and surrendered. “You are frightening me, Torrullin. For pity’s sake, tell us what this is. What have you done and where are we?”

Tristan rose and stretched.

Torrullin’s glance flicked up at him, and returned to Elianas, who cursed. Torrullin leaned closer. “This is still Lethe, but now it is a different realm and I suspect it may be a different time also. But I did not bring us here. Something fools with us. I may enjoy a challenge and I am particularly enjoying how you squirm at the moment, but this is going too far.”

Tristan strode nearer. He stood arms akimbo over them. “This is precisely why we go nowhere - you two and your lack of conviction. Reaume is unprotected and you carry on as if we have all the time in the universe. I am well aware you were warned not to delve the issues in Lethe, yet I’m saying, unless you do, even if it is scratching at the surface, we are headed to nowhere for eternity. Look …” and he swung one arm in a wide arc, “… a stone henge, a place of safety. Either you brought us here, Torrullin, or we brought ourselves here by consensus, or we were bloody chucked in. Whatever and however, get to sorting enough out so we may actually aid Reaume and, yes, aid the Dryads also. Understood? This is why you wanted me to come, wasn’t it? To get your arses moving?”

Torrullin exhaled, a weary sound. “We are exactly one year back in time. Whatever is to happen to Reaume has not yet begun.”

Elianas glared at him. “What happened to ‘I suspect’?”

A shrug answered him, before he added, “To see you squirm.”

Tristan interrupted, “Good god, will you stop? Would you please do something more than taunt each other?” Both men looked up at him. Tristan cleared his throat. “What did I say to make you do that?”

Elianas clambered to his feet. “So,” he murmured, “a whole year back in time. How does not concern me, nor does why - the why I can figure out, I trust. What concerns me is the where of this place. A year ago - biological count - we were not returned. You had not remembered your past and I was in the Throne.” He swung around to stand with his hands on his knees, leaning so that Torrullin could not escape him. “Why choose a whole year?”

Torrullin did not attempt to escape that gaze. “I do not desire to change anything, if that is what you imply. We have been through trauma recently, but it revealed more about us than it hid, and I am not running away from it, and neither should you.”

“Agreed. Now answer the question.”

“A year? It was a round number.”

“Really?”

Torrullin gave a quick grin. “Yes, really.” He pointed a finger. “More than a year passed in reality than for us in realm travel. Whether I deliberately tweaked or not, does not influence either memory or return.”

“I’ll get out of your hair now,” Tristan said. “Before I do, I would like to hear the where of this place also. A year ago, I wondered who would become Vallorin, even if everyone else counts a few more years than we do. I don’t want to find myself revisiting that time.”

“This is Lethe. I do not know.”

“You are a Walker,” Elianas frowned.

“Not when another pulls the strings,” Torrullin said. “It does not matter what we do, what we say or how we feel or even where and when we are; we are not in control.”

Tristan licked dry lips. As Elianas stared at Torrullin, Tristan said, “The only way out is to start talking to each other, don’t you see?”

Torrullin frowned. “Maybe, but it does not return us control.”

“Which control do you seek?” Tristan demanded. “Which is more important, Torrullin? Elianas? The control over Lethe or the control over self? Is it that hard to imagine one may lead to the other?” Silence. “Well?”

Elianas shrugged. Torrullin threaded hands through his hair.

Tristan smirked. “I guess my point is made. I’ll be over there if you have need of me.” He walked away, leaving them alone. He did not go far, but was outside of hearing range. He knew words were telling between the two men.

Step over the threshold at your peril!

 The real truth about the Valleur through the ages is uncovered when exploiters delve the green hills of Echolone for gold. After an ancient door is discovered in the bowels of the earth, it serves to unmask the hidden power Elianas carries within, a power that places him on the same pedestal Torrullin, as Elixir, already inhabits.

The two men swerve through different realms unravelling what now lies between them and every step reverberates in reality. As loved ones pay the ultimate price, old enemies again step forward to challenge their right to rule, particularly Nemisin, First Father of the Valleur.

 Nemisin desires above all else to be the One and will do everything in his power to wrest the title from Torrullin, even using his daughter against Elianas, thereby unsettling a powerful partnership. In this he is not alone, for Tymall, Warlock, seeks to sunder that connection as well.

 In a time when all seers’ visions and dreams cease, revelations are given to those who have never before experienced them at the site of a mysterious door in a mine. Here is a mystery and it requires solving, but the answers will change the future, in reality and realms.

 Greed is able to create massive chaos. It will unbalance everything. Delving deep is able to construct fissures in time. It will release hidden truth.

It will also shatter sacred space.

THE ECHOLONE MINE

Caturday: How they makes us laugh!