Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author R.A. Clarke @RAClarkeWrites @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Beast of Lore 
by R.A. Clarke 

Within the depths rests an eerie calm,

under water like glass and swirling mist.

A dark legend lies, sleeps, and waits

for the time to start its vicious tryst.

.

At the water’s edge, beneath the moon

One dusk per decade, it’s eyelids lift.

Now it’s time to feed, to feast, refuel

on ripe pink flesh, not putrid fish

.

Nothing else will do. That is its taste.

Lying still in wait, it stalks the shore.

Movement ripples as shadows pass.

It’s craving blood, and flesh, and gore.

.

They claim a boat, a rickety thing,

then anchor out, their loins inflamed.

Such unbelievers of local lore,

but soon they’ll come to know its name.

.

So silent it moves, first fins, then tail,

their scent a drug, their passion a bore.

It swims below, between the reeds,

then rising, it aims—knows what’s in store.

.

It’s twice as long as their floating craft,

with layered teeth and powerful jaws.

A scaly form the dim hue of murk,

it slips unseen, defies nature’s laws.

.

One nudge, then two. It earns a shout.

Two heads appear—they seek the source.

As the pair leans out, eyes wide, mouths taut,

its surges, full power, without remorse.

.

With a mighty splash, glassy water froths.

One perfect chomp claims both heads in one bite.

It snatches its prey, heft crumpling the boat.

Blood curls and swirls, that’s the first of the night.

.

Then down to the depths, it dives to digest,

chewing and crunching, it savours the taste.

Once done, it still hungers. It will need more.

It swims down the beach with no time to waste.

.

A marina appears cluttered with boats.

This will do nicely. It lays quiet, in wait.

Watching for movement, for shadows to pass,

to stroll down the dock like sweet dangling bait.

.

At the water’s edge, beneath the moon,

within the depths, among swirling mist.

Yes, it’s time to refuel, to feed, to feast.

One night per decade, it’s eyelids lift.

.

Fiction © Copyright R.A. Clarke
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from author R.A. Clarke:

RAClarke_RaceToNovus

A daughter’s last chance at redemption on an alien planet. A sweeping secret that could not only end her dreams, but her life as well.

Finn Rucker boards the starship to seek a fresh start as part of a colonizing effort on Joya. The race, sponsored by Governus, yields free land and startup funds for the lucky winners. The number of entrants guarantees someone is going to lose and Finn is determined that she and her bionic horse, Herc, are among the winners.

Racing through uncharted jungle to the settlement of Novus, Finn and her fellow racers soon discover that not everything is as it seems – and Governus withheld information from the contestants. Strange beasts attack the racers, mechanical equipment begins to fail, and the very air seems out to get them.

When all seems lost, a mysterious people arrive and help the racers, revealing the depth of Governus’ deception. Finn will have to keep her pulse pistols close and her new friends closer – but not too close – as they all race to survive the jungle.

You will love this mashup of Hidalgo and James Cameron’s Avatar as Finn navigates the guilt of her past, the promise of a future, and the imminent dangers of her present.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Melissa R. Mendelson @melissmendelson @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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What They Leave Behind 
by Melissa R. Mendelson 

I almost missed it.  That look in his eyes.  After all of them, I knew to be aware of it, but I missed it with him.  He was so good that he had me fooled.  Then, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we sat on the couch, telling my parents the great news, and I looked into his eyes.  There it was because he dropped his guard, and I fell into his gaze.

I promised myself so many damn times that I would never ever find myself in this place again.  The darkened woods with that creature circling overhead.  With each of them, that creature grew, and they never met each other.  But they sensed one another, and they wanted a piece of me too.

Now, I was running as the creature drew closer, but it already had me.  I saw its marks on my arms, quietly feeding on me, smiling because I had no idea that it was there.  I thought I was careful.  I thought it was more than enough time, years, where I sentenced myself to be alone to recover, pick up the pieces that they left behind, and manage the damage as best as I could.  But it didn’t matter.

The creature cried a happy cry because it found me again, and part of me wanted to surrender.  I was so tired of being careful.  I was so tired of wasting my life, watching out for them, and turning what could have been the right ones away.  I just don’t trust people.  But there are good ones out there, right?  Why can’t they find me?

Something scared the creature off.  I wasn’t alone.  I needed to pull away from his gaze, return to my parents, and call it off, save myself, if it wasn’t too late. 

Something moved in the darkened woods.  It looked human, stepping closer, and I saw…. Me.

She mirrored the darkened woods.  Her gaze made me cringe.  Then, she focused on his eyes still looking into mine.  It was the way back.  She moved fast, and I realized that if I didn’t hurry after her, I was going to be left here.

I grabbed hold of her, but the touch of her cut right through me.  It was as if she were that pain that I had felt from them, and she smiled.  She smiled their smile.

“No!”  I screamed, but she was gone.  So was the creature.  At least, for now, but it would soon realize that it was me here not her.  It would come back, but that wasn’t the worst thing.  No, the worst thing was him, or was it me?

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Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.
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About Author Melissa R. Mendelson:

Melissa R. Mendelson is the author of the Sci-Fi Novella, Waken.  She also has a prose poetry collection called, This Will Remain With Us published by Wild Ink Publishing.  Her short story collections, Better Off Here and Name’s Keeper can be found on Amazon/Amazon Kindle.

If you’d like to learn more about Melissa, you can visit her accounts here: www.MelissaMendelson.com

 

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Rie Sheridan Rose @RieSheridanRose @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Seasonal Surf  
by Rie Sheridan Rose 

Some days are perfect for surfing. You can tell as soon as you hit the beach. The waves are cresting at a reasonable range, and you can taste the salt from the beachfront parking. Days like this are rare in my neck of the woods, but not impossible.

Unfortunately, it looks like the meteorologist made a wrong call. I got all the way down here with my board, and it’s almost smooth as glass. Still, there’s a breeze blowing, and I’m out of the house, so that’s a plus…guess I’ll just hang here a while and see if it picks up any. It’s nice on the water…

***

It never fails. Lay out the hope of a decent surf, and someone will bite. I never know who will answer the call, but I’ll take any bet that someone will. Looks like my pigeon today is a plump little bird, filling out her swimsuit to perfection. Just enough meat on her bones. I’ll just wait here until she gets bored with the water and calls it a day. I can almost taste it now. Roast pigeon with a side of something green—must remember to eat healthy these days. And she looks quite healthy.

.

Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of
Pixabay.com

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Overheard in Hell:
Dark Poetry

Poems exploring hell and damnation. Tales of sorrow, vengeance, betrayal, and redemption. Ghosts, ghouls, and demons stalk these pages. Don’t read in a lonely house…in a darkened room by a single candle…

…unless you like the touch of an icy finger up your spine.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Jaime Johnesee @JaimeJohnesee @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Portal to Kyoto 
by Jaime Johnesee 

“Jesus! Up ahead! Run, Daryl! Oh, God, it’s coming!” James screamed to his friend as they ran for the Torii, which just happened to be a magical portal to Kyoto that they’d had built, regardless of the warnings the monks gave them.

Pounding footfalls chased the pair to the arch, urging them faster and faster. Daryl’s anguished cry forced James to look back in time to catch the image of his friend being eaten by the beast.

“That can’t be me, please, God!” James said softly, to himself, as he ran for his life.

The creature finished snacking on Daryl and began bounding for James.

Luck was on the young man’s side as he reached the portal and emerged in modern day Japan. A whimper from the beast’s head caused him to stop celebrating his good fortune–at entering and closing the portal in time–and look down.

A piece of the creature had come through the Torii with James. Its head stilled, its eyes closed. The body had, thankfully, remained on the other side of the portal.

James stepped to the side, down an alley, where he vacated his stomach contents before returning the omamori to the old Onmyōji.

The amulet was burning through his flesh, charring and bubbling through all the layers of skin and burrowing into the muscle of his hands.

Yet, he dare not let go, the mage needed it to reverse everything. This omamori, as much as it looked like a simple pendant, would help change fate and free his people.

James knew he had no choice but to suffer through the pain as he worked to find the magic man.

He needed to reverse what the evil sorcerer had done, and only the Onmyōji could do it. As he ran, he prayed. All his praying was for naught, as a truck would immediately slam into him, killing him on impact.

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Fiction © Copyright Jaime Johnesee
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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More from Jaime Johnesee:


Shifters: A Samantha Reece Mystery

When a serial killer begins leaving remains of victims in hotel bathtubs all over town FBI Agent Samantha Reece makes it her business to stop him.

This detective’s got an ace up her sleeve in the form of her ability to shift into the guise of a were panther. As she tracks down the cold-hearted murderer she also has to contend with an anti-shifter group determined to destroy her.

Not to mention the black jaguar who turned her decides to come sauntering back into her life.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Terrie Leigh Relf @TLRelf @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

The Arches (A Haibun) 
by Terrie Leigh Relf

Carolina was on a college archeological field trip. The ruins were “circa 1400,” or so the docent said. She sensed, however, that they were much older.

early evening

lanterns circling

within an unseen wind

She paused to gaze upon and through the dank, moldy arches that seemed to extend further into the distance than they first appeared. Where would they ultimately lead? To a cathedral, a palace, an ancient library, perhaps?

moon rise

voices raised

in adulation

The end of the cobbled path lead to a stairway that descended into a cave, and Carolina watched as the others headed downward. She sniffed at the cold air which emerged from the cave’s opening . . . Seaweed and something even more foul. While she considered leaving, something slithered around her ankle and up her leg.

morning paper

another class vanishes

Miskatonic ruins

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More from author Terrie Leigh Relf:

The Sisterhood of the Blood Moon

For thousands of Earth years, the Transgalactic Consortium has had a quiet interest in this planet and its inhabitants, the Haurans. While the Sisterhood of the Blood Moon works together with the Consortium and Haurans to maintain balance in the universe, the Blood Moon is fast approaching. The power of this moon reveals untold secrets . . . including a sacred covenant with the Mora Spiders. There is an ancient pact that needs to be honored—but at what cost and for whose purpose? The world may come to an end. But will there be a chance for a new beginning?

Available for purchase from Hiraeth Publishing!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Nadia Corin @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

To Serve
by Nadia Corin

As he creeps through the shadows of night, quiet and unassuming, this jester of fate once thought free-will was nothing more than a dream. He’d been forever bound to serve. But his unthreatening nature allowed him to sneak past the guards watching the prized room. Even the jingle of his little bells did nothing to stir suspicion. Just a funny man walking on a sleepless night.

As he approached the large mahogany door, he was careful to open it and slip inside. The room was lit by the faint light of the moon, watching from behind clouds. The jester tip-toed to the sleeping man, drew the hidden dagger from his belt, and plunged it into his chest.

He would serve no more.

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Rie Sheridan Rose @RieSheridanRose @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Black and White and Red All Over 
by Rie Sheridan Rose 

There’s a silence in these halls

held in by thick stone walls…

Shadows thick as midnight,

though the window pulses sunlight.

.

I was so happy then,

the day I last came in,

he waited at the altar—

and my steps they did not falter.

.

I was a blushing bride,

with my father at my side,

my dress of pearly white,

everyone’s face alight…

.

The best day of my life,

Now sullied by time’s knife…

We were young and had it all.

Forgetting the inevitable fall.

.

A year has come and gone,

since he was first to travel on…

I thought I could bear it…

but that idea has no merit.

.

I couldn’t stand to be alone,

so even though I can’t condone

the method that I’ve chosen here,

I’ve gone to find my love so dear.

.

I leave here in this sacred hall

this garbled note explaining all…

I’m sorry for the bloody mess.

A sea of red on snow-white dress.

.

Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of
Pexels.com

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519RiHK+1wL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_

Overheard in Hell:
Dark Poetry

Poems exploring hell and damnation. Tales of sorrow, vengeance, betrayal, and redemption. Ghosts, ghouls, and demons stalk these pages. Don’t read in a lonely house…in a darkened room by a single candle…

…unless you like the touch of an icy finger up your spine.

Available on Amazon!

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Posted in Authors, Dark Fiction, flash fiction, FREE, Horror, Ladies of Horror, Writing Project | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Donna J. W. Munro @DonnaJWMunro @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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We Won’t Be Quiet Anymore 
by Donna J. W. Munro 

“I had the dream again.”

He doesn’t look up from his phone, but I went on hoping he was listening. It was better than starting another fight.

“The one with black monoliths and cobbled alleys. Sasha ran through them, laughing and yelling for me to catch her. At first, I’m laughing too but I start falling further behind until I can’t see her. I can only hear her feet slapping the stones. I yell at her to stop.”

He swipes, ignoring me, focusing instead on whichever time killer he’s staring at.

If he’d reach out and touch me, or at least look up, I wouldn’t keep talking to fill the dead air between us.

“I call her name over and over. I can’t hear her footsteps over my breath. I search the line of monoliths and the cobblestone path stretching under my feet.”

He turns away, a wall of indifference.

The taste of the nightmare lingers in my sleep-fouled mouth, but his insistent ignoring me, pretending like Sasha didn’t exist, his silence are worse flavors to swallow. I reach for his shoulder to feel the warmth he doesn’t share with me anymore. Not since that terrible day.

He shudders when my fingers brush him. He jerks away, mumbling.

“Say something, Mark. She’s gone and you act like it’s my fault. I… I don’t think it was. Please? We used to be able to––”

When the phone rings, he gets up and leaves me there with my anxious words falling in puddles like tears. I hear him talking in the other room, making plans to meet someone, using the voice I used to hear when he was hiding something. I usually saw through it and knew what to say, but since Sasha he didn’t share anything with me.

It wasn’t my fault.

Anger lights in my gut, and I stomp over to him perched in our bed on the tangled sheets. His eyes skim across me as I come in hot.

“You can’t blame me for this… MARK.” I shove him to get a reaction. Any words, even angry ones, would be better than silence.

“Stop!” He screams, dropping the phone. He covers his ears, rocking and muttering about being sorry. About how much he misses…us.

When the memory floods back the sound that came from me is a freight train passing through flesh. I feel the punches crushing my ribs, the thin twisting wire around my throat just tight enough to bite. He’d stood in front of me wearing a black mask and gloves, sawing away at my fingers as I roared around the gag in my mouth.

Roaring now in the same agony as he writhes on the floor, blood dripping from his nose.

He told me who he was by how he moved, never saying a word. All I could do was mutter, “Why? Why?” when he cut out my tongue with his wire snips and then mewed as he cut away other strips of my skin.

“Sophia’s next,” he whispered as he sawed off my earlobe.

“Sophia!” I scream a concussive wave that knocks him back as I bury him in the bloody memory.

He’d dropped her on the floor in front of me. Me with no tongue to comfort her. Me with no fingers to touch her. He’d laughed as I begged without voice. He’d pushed her a little closer. Almost within my paddle-hands’ reach. She squealed and kicked under her father’s boot. He laughed!

Now, I laugh the same vicious booming laugh around him, shattering little bones in his ears, rattling his teeth. His eyes swam with the memory. Her little lungs rattled with wet gurgles. Her tiny hands thumped the floor. And the crunch, my screams, his laughs as her head collapsed under his boot.

“Sophia!” We both scream as I wrap around him.

Not my fault. Yours. Not my fault. Yours.

I plunge icy fingers into his body ripping away at his stolen life.

I scream until he lays in his own piss and blood.

“No more. Please.”

I’m wisping breeze across his broken ears, “There’s so much more. Just wait…”

He curls up, snot and tears mixing on his cheeks.

“Sophia’s so much bigger now. She won’t be quiet anymore.” I promise as the morning sun burns through my misty form.

I leave him writhing there with his worries.

Thinking death might be a release.

Either way, we’ll be waiting.

And so, so loud.

.

Fiction © Copyright Donna J. W. Munro
Image courtesy of Pexels.com

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More from author Donna J. W. Munro:

Revelation: Poppet Cycle Book One

In a dark future, people with money live in doomed cities and use the recently deceased as
repurposed servants and workers called poppets. Ellie DesLoge is the teen heiress of the
company that makes and distributes poppets–your basic reprogrammed flesh robot complete
with training chips and kill switches. If Ellie does everything her Aunt Cordelia says, she’ll have a
life of wealth and power. If she chooses to be what is planned for her, life will be perfect.
Everything she ever dreamed. But something about her sweet poppet Thom goes against what
Aunt Cordelia and tradition have taught her. Will she choose to believe what everyone knows is
true or will she follow what her heart tells her about Thom? Her choice will change the world.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kathleen McCluskey @KathleenMcClus4 @darc_nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Echoes of War 
by Kathleen McCluskey 

The battlefield was a wasteland of ash and smoke. Bodies littered the ground, twisted in unnatural poses, their eyes fixed and glossy. The soldier pressed forward. His breath came in ragged gasps. His armor was dented and his shield cracked, but he could not stop. Not now.

He had watched his brothers fall. One by one, they had been struck down. Some by arrows that flew faster than a blink, others by blades they never saw coming. The soldier had fought side by side with a knight who was killed by a swift strike to the neck. The bishop, his commanding officer, had fallen moments later. His prayers were cut short by an unseen enemy. But the soldier lived. Somehow, through sheer determination or perhaps luck, he had survived when all others had perished. Now as he stumbled through the smoke, he could see them, the ones responsible for this carnage.

The black king and queen.

They stood tall and regal at the center of the battlefield. Their dark figures silhouetted against the swirling chaos around them. The king held a sword in one hand, his expression cold and calculating. The queen stood proudly beside him, her eyes glinting with malice. Together, they ruled over this war torn land and every death that occurred here today had been under their command.

The soldier gripped his sword tighter. His heart pounding in his chest. He was close now. If he could reach them maybe, just maybe he could end this carnage. He could stop the endless slaughter and bring peace to the realm. But with each step he took, the air seemed to get heavier. The weight of his fallen comrades bore down on him. The cries of the dying echoed in his ears. His vision blurred, the ground beneath him unsteady. He could barely keep his footing but yet he pressed on, forcing himself towards the dark figures.

As he neared the king and queen, he realized that he was alone. The entire battlefield had grown silent. The sounds of battle were replaced with an eerie stillness. Every other soldier, friend and foe alike, lay dead or dying around him.

He was the last.

The king’s eyes locked onto him, and for the first time, the soldier felt a flicker of doubt. The king did not move, nor did the queen. They simply stood there, waiting, as if they knew how this was going to end. The soldier raised his sword, his hands trembling. He could feel the sweat dripping down his face, mixing with the grime and blood that clung to his skin. This was it. The final strike. The end of everything.

Yet, as he stepped forward, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him. The battlefield, the fallen soldiers, the towering king and queen, it all felt like something he had seen before. It felt like something he had experienced a thousand times over.

His sword wavered in his hand.

“Why do you hesitate?” The queen whispered. Her voice was as cold as death. “You are nothing but a pawn in this game.”

The words struck him like a blow. A pawn? No, he was a soldier. He had fought bravely, pushed forward against impossible odds. He had watched his comrades die, and yet, he stood.

But the queen’s words swirled in his head. “A pawn.”

It was then that he realized the truth. He had been moving forward, step by step, toward a goal he did not understand. He had followed orders, obeyed commands and sacrificed everything…and for what? He was not a soldier. He was something much more insignificant.

As the realization sank in, the soldier’s legs gave out beneath him. He fell to his knees before the black king and queen. His sword slipped from his grasp. He had come so close, but in the end it had been all for nothing. He was just a pawn – expendable and replaceable.

The king’s gaze was cold as he lifted his sword, ready to deliver the final blow.

That’s when the soldier heard it. A single otherworldly word that seemed to reverberate through the air. It echoed across the battlefield.

“Checkmate.”

The king’s sword fell.

Darkness consumed him.

.

Fiction © Copyright Kathleen McCluskey
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

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More from Kathleen McCluskey:

The Long Fall: Book 1: The Inception of Horror

Lucifer always cunning and intelligent challenges father to a battle of wits. Being the angel of light he casts a judgemental eye upon mankind. He begins a war with his fellow archangels and God. Michael, along with his siblings defend their home and mankind from their deranged brother. Broad swords and hand to hand combat drench heaven in blood. The four apocalyptic steeds are released, each having their own destructive power. Betrayal and lust are at biblical levels. Understand the very creation of evil and the consequenses that transpire in the first of THE LONG FALL series.

Available on Amazon!

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Ladies of Horror Flash Project – #Horror #author Kendra Smart @DevourAllWords @Darc_Nina #LoH #fiction

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Caveat Emptor  
by Kendra Smart 
 

I can hear the sound in the silence. The mechanism turning and fulfilling it’s grand design and purpose. The dance meant to break me down, and over time it will succeed, has given me a rare chance to take the lead. 

A degree built on science, philosophy, the poets of history had sang through word, note, and art. But she had always dreamt of dance, the prima ballerinas and how they shone on the stage lost to the tides of their story and floating above the wooden floor gracefully silent against the crescendo of horns and strings. 

Fate had brought a science her way, the salesman seemed so sure that his device would work. An amplifier of renowned secret. An artifact that when attached to any material could assist the user to learn anything they wished to know. Instantly. Wasn’t there anything she wished she knew how to do and could replicate? Mr. McMurray said she could. 

So she did because there was. That aching need burned brighter as it was fueled by a hope springing free from years of no time, no priority. She held desire close to her heart and here stood a potential key, not to feel seen but to feel realized. 

A dream is a wish your heart makes. 

But timing was never the issue. Here before her stood the invitation and open hand reaching for hers to join the dance. 

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?

Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

Solid in her plan and having been devoted to her knowledge, it was really a simple matter of fashioning the right footwear for a dream becoming a reality. An honor and great care must be given for the perfect choice. The red shoes for a dance the Red Queen could be proud to pointe in. 

She was in love as her hands moved lithely but furiously, the pattern springing forward as though the yearn to break free and be created were just too much to bear. 

But after toils and foils, many a late night…they existed. 

Rose Madder in color covered with a lace of the same make. Thick ribbon, velveteen on the front, lay long enough to tie and shone against the light in a beautiful burgundy, gold trimming along the ribbon and lace work. She sighed as she viewed them. She had crafted them and they were ready save for the slot laid empty. Ready for the amplifier. 

Buyer beware had been just a passing phrase in a world of quick commerce and no label or directions had been given. 

She placed the amplifier, a small mechanical piece with but one button, and it was safe and snug in the alcove she had made for it. Now was the time. She had already broken in the shoes and had taped her feet like the girls in the videos had shown her. 

She placed her feet in and began lacing them up.  When she was satisfied, it was time. She stood and began the music for her favorite ballet, Alice in Wonderland. The Queen of Hearts music began but from the moment the button was pushed…her fate was sealed. 

For the shoes did in fact connect with the amplifier. And once it had acclimated to its chosen purpose the machine connected with her.  Through her, piercing through skin to assimilate and intertwine, becoming part of her. Her screams were so loud in her head as the white hot pain scorched along her bloodstream, burnt along every nerve and muscle, even her bony prominences produced the worst echoing ache. 

But on the outside all was normal.

The amplifier did as it was marketed. It enhanced the desire of those who used it, for whatever fashion. But in return, the soul was sold, in bargain, for the Jin are fair enough. They never lie about what is sold. But nor is a disclaimer given. 

But nothing in life is free, and the seller always comes calling for the price. 

Caveat emptor.

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Fiction © Copyright Kendra Smart
Image courtesy of Pexels.com

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More from author Kendra Smart:

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Just Emotions:
A Gothic Bite Magazine Anthology

A collection of poetry.

‘Just Emotions‘ is exactly as it states, a group of writers who had feelings they wanted to express in poem form. Inside, there are a range of emotions to explore. Each writer has given a bit of themselves to you, each in their own way.

We hope that you enjoy these writings and that among the poems you may find some thing you can identify with or relate to. Thank you for giving us this chance to open the catacombs and share with you.

Available on Amazon!  

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