Festival of Drabbles: Bad Luck

Welcome my minions to this Festival of Drabbles post upon the infamous Friday the 13^th!

In celebration of this ominous date on the calendar, I bring three drabbles telling of ill fortune and the worst of luck…

Black Cat

The hearth fire does not warm the chill in my bones. The barricaded door will not keep me safe. Fate comes to claim me. Last evening the black cat crossed my path.

A silly superstition, you say. Not in my family.

That cat is our curse, one triggered by my own folly and arrogance. I truly thought I could get away with my evil deed. Get away with murder. But no.

Some part of me wishes to believe otherwise, that my precautions are for peace of mind, not born of helpless futility.

Yet… is that a meow outside the window?

~*~

Turn of a Card

I can feel a bead of sweat sliding down the back of my neck. It’s just the two of us left in this game of Faro, Lefty Mason and me. All the rest lost their stake to the dealer.

It’s the last bet, the “calling of the turn”, and I went all in to the bank. Stupid maybe, knowing I can’t afford to lose my wager, but I’m feeling lucky.

She deals three cards. My jaw drops.

“I lost.”

“Yes, sir. Time to settle your bet. Hand over your soul, please.”

The devil imp grins, and I know it’s over.

~*~

Ill Omens

Such a modern world. Progress, technology and busy people on the go. Very few would believe the world of superstition underneath it all. That their life could change on the whim of fate. Black cats, unlucky numbers, spilled salt, it all seems quaint to the contemporary person.

Until they meet me.

I’m the nightmare, the walking, talking harbinger of ill fortune and bad luck. A touch of my hand, a whisper in your ear, and dark clouds will follow your days. Forever. And no lucky clover or horseshoe will ever change it.

So sleep well, and don’t piss me off.

© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved

And don't forget my book Passing Fancies, can be downloaded for free on Smashwords until the 15th: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/151594

Full Moon On Friday 13th

Here's a short snippet of a horror story to honour the full moon rise tonight, on Friday the Thirteenth:

Full Moon On Friday 13th

An odd hush settled over a particular backstreet of London, the rolling fog dancing wisps around the windowsills of closed taverns and rooming houses, and diffusing the soft glow from the gas lamps. No local denizens wandered the darkness, no flesh peddlers or their customers, no drunken wretches, no thieves, nor pickpockets. Only the moonlight ventured a presence, as it shimmered on the empty streets damp with a coating of night dew.

The silence hung, like a body from the gallows, until just past midnight when muted footsteps broke the quiet. The echoing sound grew ever louder, and mingled with panting puffs of breath, flapping leather, and the faint click of metal, as if a watch had been pulled from a pocket. A shadow flitted along the cobblestones, and a curious scratching grated across battened shutters, leaving unfathomable gouges in its wake.

Behind these shutters, inside the locked taverns and homes, the citizenry huddled, teeth on edge, swallowing bile and fear. They waited out the night, prayed to see the sunrise, as this presence, this stalker, explored, tested, hunted. Which one would be chosen tonight, they knew not, but one person would fall, one person would end as prey.

When the hunter came, someone always died…