Three Word Wednesday prompts: mention, affinity, fidget

a little back story…

“Grandma, why are we here?”

“Hush child.  Wait and watch.”

Libbie fidgeted.  She was cold and sleepy.  Her coat was scratchy and she wanted to be home in her pajamas and bunny slippers  If mama was home she would make her some hot chocolate.  But Mama had to work. She wondered why Grandma was bringing her with her tonight, a school night.  She knew Grandma always came to the graveyard after a funeral.  She had done it ever since Libbie could remember.  It made Mama mad and she couldn’t figure that out either.  She knew they both loved her but they fought a lot.

Grandma spoke, never taking her eyes off the grave before them. “Soon, Libbie.  Something will happen. You must keep watch.”

Libbie pulled on her grandmother’s sleeve. Will you tell me a story while you watch?

Grandma patted her leg and started to talk.  “You know the stories about Jesus?  From your picture bible?  There are more stories in the big bible.  You will learn them when you get older.  The story I am going to tell you is about the night that Judas turned Jesus in to the authorities. My grandmother told me this story when I was about your age”

“Did your grandmother take you to graveyards? Why did Judas turn Jesus in, Grandma?”

“You ask a lot of questions Libbie Bee.  Yes, my grandmother took me with her, just like her grandmother before her. We have always done this.  Now let me tell you the story. Judas was a bad man and certain things had to happen.  I want to tell you about an important part of the story.  Judas was paid for turning Jesus in.  Later, he felt bad about what he did.  He went back to the people who paid him, and tried to give the money back.  They wouldn’t take it and he threw the money away and went and killed himself.”

Libbie frowned. She didn’t like this story very much. “That’s a sad story Grandma.  I’m sure he was sorry.”

Grandma smiled,  “That may be so, but you will learn as you grow up, that there are some things that people do, that can’t be fixed. They can be sorry, but it doesn’t fix anything.”

Libbie frowned again.  She couldn’t understand what Grandma wanted her to see from this story.

Grandma patted her leg again.  “The thing you need to know is that the money was silver.”

Libbie thought about it for a minute.  “Like your special dust?”

Grandma nodded.  “Yes.  Just like my special dust.  This is a true story Libbie Bee,  Ever since that time, silver has been special. There are other stories, but they will wait for another night.  It’s almost time.”

“Time for what, Grandma?  What are we waiting for?”

Grandma stood and started walking toward the fresh grave, “Stay behind me Libbie.”

A mist had drifted in and Libbie shivered.  The mist seemed thickened like Mama’s gravy in front of the headstone and covered the drooping flowers. Libbie squinted her eyes in the darkness.  There was a low keening sound coming from the grave, and something was moving.  Libbie sat as still as she could, frightened now.  Grandma wasn’t afraid of anything!  She walked right up to the grave, holding her little bag of dust, muttering something quietly.  She reached in the bag and scattered it all over the misty covered grave and the mist turned to sparkling glitter that floated away on the little bit of visible of moonlight. She came back and sat down next to Libbie.

“Do you understand what happened here tonight?”

Libbie slowly nodded her head, her face reflected pale in the rising moon.  “I think so. The dead person wasn’t going to stay buried.  You fixed them.”

Grandma hugged her.  “I told your mama you had an affinity for this.  She didn’t want to listen.” Grandma smiled down at her.  “Don’t you worry though.  It will be alright.  You can come with me from now on and I will teach you.  I think it might be a good idea if we didn’t mention this to your mama.  I don’t mind getting in trouble, but I don’t want her to fuss at you.”

Libbie shook her head.  She didn’t like sneaking behind her mama’s back but she didn’t want more fighting between her and Grandma either. “Can we go home now?”

Grandma got up, dusting off the seat of her pants and reached a hand down to pull Libbie up.  “Let’s go home Libbie Bee.  It’s been a long night for you.”

Three Word Wednesday: Stress, figure, Juicy

Raven picked at the juicy worm, glanced around at crow who was tugging his own dinner from the ground.  Something shivered, feathers slicked down.  Wings ready for flight just in case.

Every day they flew together.  Ate together.  Rested in the tree limbs together.

Shaking her head from side to side she saw, just at the edge of vision, a shadow and then it was on him.  Instinct took over.  She wanted to leave and yet she dove.  He was all.  She drove her beak in searching out eyes from the fur and claw and teeth tearing at him.  She dove and dove again, fear in the background, mindless now just dive and stab – dive and stab.  A swash of pain across a wing.  Stray swipe of talon tore stressed flesh.  Ebony feathers drifting in the sunlight.

A moment and the sun was down and she was human again.  On the ground writhing in pain, she forced herself to her feet, ignoring sharpness and blood.  Grasping the throat and squeezing as claws raked and scraped at skin now.

Raven struggled until the life was gone from it and flung it from her.  She crawled over to him, holding his flesh together. “Nooooooo!” She screamed and held him as he whispered one word.  “Broken.”

As the darkness gathered the predator appeared blurred.  It’s feline figure slowly became a red haired woman. It was her. That witch.  Her eyes open towards the purple sky.  “How could you!  You loved him too!”

There was no one left to hear her.  Now what?  Would she be winged again come morning?  Raven walked over and spit on the corpse, giving it a kick to make sure she was dead. “I don’t care if your curse outlives you.  I’m glad you’re dead.  Even your curse couldn’t separate us.”

She dropped next to him and kissed him gently on his forehead, stroking the crow tattoo over his left eye.  Raven stood and stumbled through the night.

Three Word Wednesday: Abrasive, Loss, and Handful

“This way!  Come on!  Jack pulled Libbie’s arm with one hand as he shoved the window open with the other.

“Hope the fire escape is…aww man.”  Libbie looked down and saw what Jack already knew.

“We’re going to have to jump aren’t we…I Hate it when we have to jump!”  Libbie turned away from the window.  “They’re coming!”

Jack pulled Libbie through the window. “Ouch, my head!” Libbie held the top of her head.

“Sorry!  Ready?”

“No, but not much choice is there?” The ladder that used to be part of the fire escape in the abandoned apartment building was gone.  At least they were only on the second floor.  The alley below was full of trash and Libbie hoped they landed on something soft.

“Tuck and roll, right?  Jack kind of chuckled and then leapt.

“Oh crap.” Libbie followed and hit with a thud.  Not soft enough….there was blood dripping from her forehead where she hit the edge of the window sash and she rubbed her ankle as she stood, testing it.  She grabbed Jack’s hand and they ran.  Jack held his other arm close to his side but there was no time to worry about that now.  The wraiths were coming.  They needed a place to hide.  They ran to the street lights and people and wove through the crowd.

“Down there!” Libbie pointed at another alley across the street. She could feel the wraith searching on the edge of her thoughts.  They were close.  She pushed Jack into a doorway. There was only a handful of seconds before the wraith would be right on top of them.

She stood in front of him, holding the darkness around them.  She willed him to be still, hoping that they would pass by.  They would have made it too, if she hadn’t already been weakened from running. They passed so close she could smell them and just as they cleared the alley entrance one of them stopped and turned. She felt it’s slimy mind probing, like nasty abrasive fingers sliding through her brain. She tried to stay silent, to keep herself closed off but it broke through and it felt like knives stabbing her head.  She raised her hands to her head as she dropped to her knees.

The blast of magic must have lit up the sky for miles.  That was her last thought before it all went dark.

Libby woke up. There was nothing but pain and darkness. She half sat and felt around in the dark. Her hand touched a lump covered in fabric.

“Jack?  Jack are you okay?”

The lump groaned.  He was alive.  Libby flopped back down, relieved. She took mental inventory.  Every inch of her felt bruised and her head was pounding, but she was all there.  Wherever there was.

Jacks hand moved against her side.  She reached down and held it.  He squeezed and she squeezed back.

“Ya, me too. We have to figure out where we are.”

“I know. Do you remember anything?” Jack started to sit up and grabbed his head, laying back down.

“After I was mind raped?  Not really.  We’re still alive though, so they must have something more planned than just getting rid of us.  Can you move?”  The headache was receding a little.  Libby started stretching and flexing her muscles.

“I think so.”  Jack rolled over on his side. “They’re waiting for the full moon.  I don’t think we can count on a five star meal or anything.  I wish I could see. It’s dark as hell in here.”

Libby held her hand up and even though it made her head feel worse, she concentrated. A small ball of light appeared in her hand.  They were in some kind of cellar.  The only window was blocked by something from the outside. The walls were damp and moldy looking which accounted for the horrendous smell. A couple of mildewed cardboard boxes sat in the corner and there was plenty of evidence that the main inhabitants were spiders.  They were on the floor at the bottom of a rickety looking staircase.  The bruises she was starting to feel were probably the result of being “helped” down the steps. There was a gallon jug of what looked like water next to them.

“Guess they don’t want us to dehydrate…”

The lightball crackled and went out.

“Better rest for a bit.  I don’t think we’ll miss viewing the decor.”  Jack reached out in the dark for Libbie’s hand and folded her fingers closed.

“Well my powers didn’t help us much in that alley, did they?” Libbie slapped her other hand on the floor, frustrated.

“But we know something we didn’t know before.”

Libbie turned to his voice.  “What the hell do you mean?  That they can beat us up and toss us into a basement?  How does that help?”

“We know they are physical. If we had just been warped here or whatever you want to call it, we wouldn’t be all banged up now.” Jack sounded a little smug.

“I am still at a loss as to how knowing they can kick our asses all the way to a basement can be helpful.” Libbie was tired, sore, and getting a little tired of Jack being so obtuse.

“You may have the magic but I sure would like to see what happens when human fist connects with the face of whatever…what are these guys?”

“Wraiths…I hadn’t thought of that.  I always thought they were more like ghosts or something.  It’s not going to do much good if they can shut down our minds, though.”

Jack sighed.  “My brain wasn’t shut down. I watched you go out of it just as one of those ghouls slammed me and next thing I knew I was slung over what I think was a shoulder and tossed down here.  You on the other hand…Jeez Lib, you scared the hell outa me. You held your head and screamed and I swear I watched your eyes roll up in your head. You were muttering some kind of gibberish and then you just went limp.”

I tried to remember and couldn’t.  There was something right on the tip of my…
“I do remember something!  Just before everything went dark.  I could feel them in my head.  I was concentrating on us staying hidden from their sight when I should have waited and shielded. That’s what the book meant about learning to shield! I have to keep them out of my head”

Jack squeezed my hand in the dark again.  He must have heard the fear and disgust in my voice.  “You can do this.  If you can keep them out, we might have a chance. Rest a bit and I and then we’ll check out those boxes on the other side of the basement.  There has to be something we can use as weapons. I really want to kick some ghoul ass”

Libbie held her hand up again.  “Better go look now.  They could come back any time.”  She lit up the basement and scooted over to get a little cover in the stairwell.

In the glow of the light ball, Jack crawled to the boxes and dragged them over to where Libbie sat.  They opened them and found mostly dishes and jars.  Jack kept digging around and pulled out an old wooden box.  He opened the box and whistled, smiling at Libbie.  “Silver….”

Three Word Wednesday CCXXV

conniption; noun: a bad tantrum. One has a conniption or conniption fit.

janky; adjective: broken or functioning poorly or improperly; messed up.

scooch; verb: to move over, or to scoot.

“Scooch over. Is that a Dr. Pepper?” Tara picked up my drink and took a pull on the straw.
“What?  Don’t get all sour-faced. I’ll buy you another!” She set my drink back down, now defiled with her signature shade of “Party Pink” lipstick. Tara couldn’t help being dramatic.  I barely finished that thought when she sighed loudly and and leaned  against the back of the booth, hard enough to make it creak. She wasn’t fooling me, I knew she was very aware that sitting that way thrust her breasts out.  She glanced around, to see if anyone was watching.  Her dark shoulder-length hair fell over one side of her face and curled around her chin perfectly. My boring light brown hair always seemed to stick out at odd places. Of course, all the guys in the place were looking. They always did. It was lunchtime and half the construction workers in town ate at Lulus.  It wasn’t gourmet but the portions were huge and the coffee pot never got empty.

“Would you stop already?  Do you have to do that?”  I tried to whisper but I should have known better.  Tara liked attention.

Tara rolled her eyes while checking out her reflection in the napkin holder. “Well don’t have a conniption fit.  Honestly Kate , sit up straight.  Why don’t you do something with your hair?”  She reached out and pushed my hair back from my face.

“Shhh!  Do you have to talk so loud?”  And leave my hair alone.  It’s fine the way it is!”  I should have been used to it but she still made me feel like I dressed right out of the Salvation Army store.  I picked up my purse and stared pointedly at her.

“Alright.  Alright!  Don’t be like that.  I’ll be good.”  Tara smiled and gave me that look that she thought was sincere and would make everyone forgive her.  We had been friends since grade school and I wondered at least once a week, why I put up with her. Well actually I knew.  Nobody knew Tara the way I did.  She was, well…her life had not been easy so far.  She tried to act like she didn’t care about anyone or anything, but that wasn’t close to the truth.

“I thought you were shopping this morning.” Tara was always shopping.  She constantly complained about the lack of variety in Newton.  She dreamed about moving to the city.

“I was.  Arielle told me they were supposed to get a shipment in Friday but the truck never showed up.  Same old stuff.” Tara bit a french fry. When she reached for another I slapped her hand.  “Don’t you ever buy your own?”

“You know I am on a diet!”

Not that it mattered.  Tara had more clothes than anyone I knew and she didn’t need to diet.  She was a perfect size six.

“The reason I stopped was to tell you the news!”  Tara’s dark eyes were wide and I knew whatever she had to say would probably mean trouble for me.  It usually did.

“What now?” I sighed and rolled my eyes.  I could plug my ears, but it would just stave off the inevitable.

“There’s a party tonight at the quarry!  Barrett Evers is going to be there!  Now, don’t look at me like that.  You know I have been trying to get him to notice me ever since he moved to town.  This is the perfect opportunity!”

Tara had crushes on half the boys at Newton High and she had dated most of those.  Nothing long term though.  She was easily bored.

“You know we have a history test and my mother still hasn’t gotten over the last party you talked me into.  I was grounded for a month!” I sat back and put both hands on the table, trying my best to look determined.  I don’t know why I bothered.  The janky leg on the booth wobbled as Tara got up.

“I will pick you up at six.  Wear something sexy and for God’s sakes, fix your hair!”

Tara flipped her hair out of her face and turned and limped out the door, her leg brace creaking as she popped her hips. The construction guys quietly turned back to their plates, suddenly busy with their meals.

I put my head in my hands.  It was going to be a long night.

Three Word Wednesday CCXXIII moist, yelp, harmless

This is for my friend Matthew – get well soon!

Long ago, when dragons still roamed the earth and magic was everywhere, there was a perfect kingdom, nestled in the southern realm. Austonia was beautiful and there was plenty to eat and beautiful sights, but the most beautiful place was the castle where prince Mateo lived with the the wise and kind King and Queen and his younger brother.

Mateo was a brave prince and loved the King and Queen and his baby brother and he had a very good life.  He was kind and liked to learn and was growing taller and smarter every day.

Sometimes even the luckiest prince has some bad things happen and one day a dragon appeared outside of the castle. Mateo, being a brave prince, knew that he would have to be strong to defeat the dragon.  He put on his cloak and slipped outside the castle gates with his sword and a bag of magic potions that the wizard had given him.

The dragon was big with gold and green scales and mean black eyes.  His tail was huge with spikes on the end. He was spitting fire at the castle and scorching the beautiful stone walls.  Mateo yelled at the dragon to stop and the dragon was so shocked that he turned and stared at Mateo.

“Who are you that you should yell at a dragon.  You are small and I will have you for dinner! You should run now so I can chase you.” The dragon was very tall and towered over Mateo.

Mateo stood his ground though he was a little frightened. “I am prince Mateo and I am not running away, dragon.  I am afraid but I can be brave!”

The dragon screamed so high and so loud that it shook the walls and hurt Mateo’s ears. Mateo reached in his pocket and opened the bag of magic.  He took out a small bottle and drank it.  His ears felt better and he smiled at the dragon.  This made the dragon very angry and he slapped at Mateo.  Mateo ducked and the dragon was not able to grab him but he scratched Mateo’s eye.  It hurt and Mateo let out a yelp.  He was scared but he reached in his magic bag again and took out another bottle.  He put some moist, magic potion in his eye and it still hurt a little, but Mateo could tell it was getting better.

“I am still here dragon!  The dragon was so angry that he spun around and jumped up and down and Mateo stuck out his sword.  The dragon was so busy jumping up and down and making the ground shake that he didn’t see the sword and he landed right on it.  When the sword pierced the dragon’s great scales he made a hissing sound and flew around the outside of the castle shrinking until he was harmless and the size of a little green bug and Mateo quickly stepped on him and he was gone.  Just then the castle gate opened and there stood the king and peering from behind him was the lovely queen holding the baby prince Wyattello.

“Mateo you have saved the castle!  You are a very brave young prince!”  The King and Queen hugged him and took him inside to the royal kitchen where he had a huge bowl of chocolate ice cream and cake.

Three Word Wednesday  CCXVI: advance, pander, shuffle
The halls were that depressing shade of green you don’t see anywhere on earth except old schools and hospitals.  An old man that looked more like he should be a patient was continuously buffing the floors.

Jack shuffled along, sloppy slippers barely clinging to sockless feet.  Shoulders slumped, head down, hair thin and messy, dandruff flaked on the shoulders of his red plaid flannel robe.  One pocket hung half-off and he could have used a clean hanky.  His advance was watched by no one except crazy old Mrs. Klusendorf who was parked in her doorway, tied to a wheelchair.  She was surrounded by a cloud of eau de urine and regarded him suspiciously as she nodded and hummed to herself.

“Hey there, Mr. Thomas.  You are just in time for your meds.”  The smiling perky blonde nurse peered up at him and he let his lip curl half his mouth into a grotesque parody of a smile.  He nodded but didn’t speak.  She poured him a little drink of water and handed him the paper pill cup.

He turned up the cup and tucked the pills into his jaw and swallowed the water and did the half smile thing again, pandering to her nurture needs. She smiled back at him.  He pointed behind the desk.  She turned and looked.  “Oh yes!  We are starting to decorate for Christmas!  Won’t that be fun?”  She grinned at him as he thought about what it would be like to have his fingers around her neck, watching her face turn red as she struggled, and then blue as the lack of oxygen had it’s final effect.

He would help Mrs. Klusendorf tonight.  He nodded and waved to the nurse and shuffled back down the hall, patting old Klusy on the shoulder as he went by.  No one should be tied in a wheelchair.  It was nearly bedtime and then four hours before bed checks.  Plenty of time.

Three Word Wednesday CXCIX: Abuse, Hatred, Cramp

Leaving in the morning for Colorado and not sure how much internet access I will have so I’ll check in when I can.  The Writer’s Book of Days prompts will continue to post on their own.

Aledon leaned down and stroked her neck.  “Just one more pass lovely, and then we can head for home.” The golden-scaled dragon launched them from the cliff and  circled around so the sun was at their back. There was smoke on the ramparts and even from the sky Aledon could hear the screams.  The barbican was breached and the archers were firing repeatedly.  Smoke from fires set around the walls created a haze that made it difficult for them to see.  Aledon searched for Sulniara in the melee and pointed.  The dragon wheeled and dove for the ground.

Aledon struck with his sword as they glided along the surface and those he missed, the dragon batted with her claws, clearing a path to where Sulniara fought, back to her horse.  The dragon turned and Aledon extended his arm. “Sulniara!  Jump!”

Sulniara swung her own sword one last time and grabbed for Aledon’s arm.  He swung her up behind him and the dragon pounced and fled to the sky.  “Look!  They are on the run!”

Aledon looked where she was pointing and sure enough, Thornley’s men were retreating.  Aledon saw blood on her arm.  He glanced around in time to feel her slump against him.  He pulled her around so he could hang on to her.  “Goldensoar!  Take us home!”  She turned her head and her amber iris darkened and she turned north and sped through the sky.  She turned through the pass between the mountains to an almost hidden lake.  Goldensoar dove for the bottom and landed on the ledge that led to her cave.  She knelt so Aledon could dismount, carrying Sulniara carefully to the cave.  She moaned as he carefully laid her on a pile of furs near the firepit.  “Damn, she has a deep slice in her side.  He ripped her tunic away from the wound and tore it into pieces.  He folded the pieces and pressed it against the wound to stop the bleeding.  “I need herbs, damn all, Sulniara.”  He bound the cloth to her and placed his hands on either side of his dragon’s face.  He leaned his head against her and pictured the plant in his mind.  “Go, now, lovely.  Hurry!”

The dragon waddled to the cave entrance, no longer graceful on the ground.  She turned one last time to look at Aledon, then left the cave.  Aledon heard her take off and arranged wood for the firepit.  He started the fire and poured water from his skin into a pot that hung over the pit.  It would be hot by the time Goldensoar returned.  He knelt next to Sulniara and brushed her black hair away from her face.  He covered her with fur and went outside to wash himself in the lake.  He stripped off his tunic and splashed the cool water from the lake over himself, shaking his red hair and beard.  He looked around at the red streaked, jagged walls that climbed straight up.  There were passages but the cave wasn’t visible from the sky.  He glanced up listening for Goldensoar’s return.  He could hear her cries as she circled before descending.

“Thank you, girl!”  He took the herbs she clutched in her claws and hurried into the cave. Aledon stirred them into the heating water and let it boil.  He tore strips of cloth and made a poultice with the herbs.

“Easy, love.  This is going to hurt some.”  Sulniara writhed as he placed the poultice on the wound.  He bound it to her and covered her back up, noting the bruises.  She had taken a lot of abuse this round.  She was pale but resting easier already. His hatred of the Grey King and all he stood for hungered for revenge for Sulniara and the people that were starving under his evil reign.  The first to die would be Thornley.

Goldensoar had curled up in the back of the cave and though they were not cramped, she was able to stretch her neck enough to lay her head next to Sulniara, her scales pulsing with agitation.

“She will live to fight again, lovely.  For now she will sleep and I suggest we do as well.”  Aledon curled up next to Sulniara so he would know if she stirred in the night.  Goldensoar nudged him with her head. “Goodnight old girl.”

Three Word Wednesday CXCVIII: bait, jump, victim

Carefully shopping for each item on his list took time and research. People who were expert had to be approached carefully so they wouldn’t suspect what he was about. He had worked all week on his plans and was certain he was ready.  He donned all the special gear, he packed all his tools and slipped out in the pre-dawn darkness.  He could hear his own breathing in the silence.  He closed the car door with a quiet little snick and winced as the sound of the engine catching pierced the quiet.  He eased out of the driveway and went to what would be the site of his victim’s last appearance.  He was patiently waiting for the bait to be taken and when it finally happened he was so tense, sweating in the humid dawn, that he jumped and almost lost control of the situation.

At last the job was complete and he packed up, making sure he left no clue that he had disturbed the serenity of the solitary place.  One last glance around and savoring the feeling of triumph, he headed home.  He quietly eased back into the house and put everything away.  He started the coffee pot and when the aroma had filled the house, his wife stumbled to the kitchen in her robe and slippers.

“Hey there sleepy head.” He smiled and kissed her on the forehead handing her a cup.

“How did it go?” She asked after yawning.

“Look in the sink!” He pointed, his face saying everything.

There resting in all it’s glory, was a twelve pound bass.