Post by ℜust ℜed ℜose on Oct 30, 2016 0:57:25 GMT -5
I probably should have spell checked this. Whoops.
This is for the third prompt; strange encounters.
Summer had given way to Autumn. Swiftly, too. The nights had grown longer; quickly did the gold of day give way to the dark of night. In the hours of late, frost would creep across the dead, fallen leaves, crawling and stalking and waiting; waiting for something that wasn’t hidden away under hundreds of blankets in the comfort of bed.
There was not a single lone soul who moved in the stillness of the mid Autumn woods. The great maple outside her bedroom window loomed over Marie’s bed, casting a long shadow across her covers; a haunting shadow with wicked hooked hands and a hundred arms. In the comfort of covers, she was asleep. Or until there was a tap tap on the bedroom window, and one that wasn’t rain. The sharp knocking of wood against glass, a dull sort of thump that echoed and hung in the air. It cut through the night, bolting Marie upright in her bed. “Who’s there!” she cried, throwing aside her covers and reaching for the flashlight beside her bed. A silhouette was cast from the bright moon outside, hiding the face that peered in. Marie hugged her nightgown close to her chest and flicked the switch on. The golden beam shone upon the face of a frightened young woman behind the window, dark skinned hands pressed to the glass. Marie stumbled back, unable to look away from the figure perched on her windowsill. The wooden woman silently pleaded with amber eyes wide. Her curly long hair was the colour of Fall leaves, with golds and orange and reds of hundreds of hues, but swiftly going grey. Her yellow painted lips has begun to go black as she pleaded frantically, but not a sound came other than the pound of her wood fists against the window.
“Go away, witch!” Marie shouted, drawing farther from the window. The woman’s wild beating on the window slowed, she had to gather her breath.
“Please let me in!” she cried to Marie, her voice a sound like wind chimes, soft and musical. Her hand slid down the window, pale a lifeless. “I’ve got nowhere to roam! They burned down my house; they burned down my home!” Sap ran from her eyes like tears, her words more like whimpers. She wiped her golden orange eyes, shards of amber falling to the ground. “I will not hurt you, that I swear. Let me in; you have space to share!”
“Leave me alone,” Marie said softly, setting the flashlight back on the nightstand and angling the beam at the woman’s face. She only meant to look her in the eyes, but the witch began to shriek, clawing at her own face, curling up into a ball on the windowsill. Marie only looked at her sympathetically. “I don’t want to be a part of this.”
“Do not do this!” the other woman begged. “My heart will turn blue, please, I swear this is true! If I stay out I will rot, that is something I want not. Only you can help me; my pain you can surely see?!”
“O… oh,” Marie sputtered, stepping forward. “What do you want me to do? Open the…? Oh.” She reached for the window, but hesitated, her hand still stuck out towards the latch. The hopeful expression in the woman’s eyes practically killed her. She couldn’t do that. She knew better than to let a witch inside the house. The young woman closed her eyes and turned her head away, drawing the black silk curtains closed. She clicked off the flashlight that still illuminated the room and lay back down into her bed, knowing she was not exactly going to be able to sleep. She stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes, shivering when she heard her visitor fall and hit the frozen ground.
This is for the third prompt; strange encounters.
Summer had given way to Autumn. Swiftly, too. The nights had grown longer; quickly did the gold of day give way to the dark of night. In the hours of late, frost would creep across the dead, fallen leaves, crawling and stalking and waiting; waiting for something that wasn’t hidden away under hundreds of blankets in the comfort of bed.
There was not a single lone soul who moved in the stillness of the mid Autumn woods. The great maple outside her bedroom window loomed over Marie’s bed, casting a long shadow across her covers; a haunting shadow with wicked hooked hands and a hundred arms. In the comfort of covers, she was asleep. Or until there was a tap tap on the bedroom window, and one that wasn’t rain. The sharp knocking of wood against glass, a dull sort of thump that echoed and hung in the air. It cut through the night, bolting Marie upright in her bed. “Who’s there!” she cried, throwing aside her covers and reaching for the flashlight beside her bed. A silhouette was cast from the bright moon outside, hiding the face that peered in. Marie hugged her nightgown close to her chest and flicked the switch on. The golden beam shone upon the face of a frightened young woman behind the window, dark skinned hands pressed to the glass. Marie stumbled back, unable to look away from the figure perched on her windowsill. The wooden woman silently pleaded with amber eyes wide. Her curly long hair was the colour of Fall leaves, with golds and orange and reds of hundreds of hues, but swiftly going grey. Her yellow painted lips has begun to go black as she pleaded frantically, but not a sound came other than the pound of her wood fists against the window.
“Go away, witch!” Marie shouted, drawing farther from the window. The woman’s wild beating on the window slowed, she had to gather her breath.
“Please let me in!” she cried to Marie, her voice a sound like wind chimes, soft and musical. Her hand slid down the window, pale a lifeless. “I’ve got nowhere to roam! They burned down my house; they burned down my home!” Sap ran from her eyes like tears, her words more like whimpers. She wiped her golden orange eyes, shards of amber falling to the ground. “I will not hurt you, that I swear. Let me in; you have space to share!”
“Leave me alone,” Marie said softly, setting the flashlight back on the nightstand and angling the beam at the woman’s face. She only meant to look her in the eyes, but the witch began to shriek, clawing at her own face, curling up into a ball on the windowsill. Marie only looked at her sympathetically. “I don’t want to be a part of this.”
“Do not do this!” the other woman begged. “My heart will turn blue, please, I swear this is true! If I stay out I will rot, that is something I want not. Only you can help me; my pain you can surely see?!”
“O… oh,” Marie sputtered, stepping forward. “What do you want me to do? Open the…? Oh.” She reached for the window, but hesitated, her hand still stuck out towards the latch. The hopeful expression in the woman’s eyes practically killed her. She couldn’t do that. She knew better than to let a witch inside the house. The young woman closed her eyes and turned her head away, drawing the black silk curtains closed. She clicked off the flashlight that still illuminated the room and lay back down into her bed, knowing she was not exactly going to be able to sleep. She stared up at the ceiling with wide eyes, shivering when she heard her visitor fall and hit the frozen ground.
