Drabble Wednesday: Monsters

Today on Drabble Wednesday, I pull back the veil to show the horrors. Today we walk with monsters…

Oh, The Web We Weave

Such things you can hide behind a smile.

Contempt, distaste, arrogance, hatred.

A flash of teeth is all it takes, perhaps a warm handshake, a chuckle.

And no one knows.

People want to believe. They want to trust.

A cheery smile is the best mask. The best way to hide.

A great smile can keep everyone at bay, keep them calm.

But you keep your secrets, those dark things behind the smile, with lies.

Carefully crafted, intricate, but an effortless deception.

So no one suspects. So no one questions you.

So no one sees the hunger.

Until they are dead.

~*~

No Mirrors

I watch them from the shadows.

The people that come to the wellspring’s pool. They laugh and chatter, collecting the water in clay jugs, idling staring at their reflection in the water.

I hate them. I envy them.

I don’t look at my reflection anymore.

I am lonely.

They don’t know I am here. I wonder if they even know of my cave. Most don’t.

But some have come. Some have stayed.

That is my consolation. My stone warriors. My beautiful collection of death.

Those fools that came to kill me.

That dared to looked upon the face of Medusa.

~*~

Sea Shanty

I sing, my voice calling from the sea.

I sing, of the dark water, and its cold, cold depths. Of the waves on the rocks, and the sweet salt breeze. Of the freedom tossed, upon the brine, and the safe harbour lost, a life less entwined.

Come sailor, I’m calling. Come sailor, I await.

Sail the strong wind, sail the swift wave. Come listen, come listen to me.

I sing the mermaid’s tune.

I sing the oldest song.

It is my lasting lullaby, my sweet gift to you.

As you die in my arms, and I feast on your bones.

© A. F. Stewart 2016 All Rights Reserved

Drabble Wednesday: Myth

Today on Drabble Wednesday, we journey past reality into the world of myth…

Fate

I weave with thread as brittle as the worst spurned heart, across the pale puffed clouds and shimmering stars. I craft names and heartbreak, death and carefree laughter.

I contrast spring among the bleakest nights, when voices murmur with unspeakable refrain, and hope burns to ash and smoke. I entwine the heavens, scattering radiant pinpricks that make the black skies dance, though their light be old and lost.

I cast the glow into their eyes, lace their blood with fire, their minds with thought. I walk the shadows and through the mists, past time and construct.

I weave the world.

~*~

Fear the Skies

On the longest winter night, when the chill wind slithers through the cracks and past your bones, I will warm you. On the beating heartbeat of outstretched wings, from the snow locked mountains, I come. I will fire the skies and burn the night. I will rain spark and fury, flame and ash.

I will be a ghost, a dreaded whisper, a story to frighten your children. A warning you will not heed. They never heed. But you will scream. Scream and flee, a game of chase with ferocity, and my blazing destruction.

And you will shout my name.

Dragon.

~*~

Harbinger

Grey light and wafting mist settled over moor and peat, across verdant grass and gnarled trees. Sunshine traced its farewell to the dappled blue firmament, and melted into the tangerine cerise embrace of the gloaming.

In a breath of moulded air, shrouded in tattered, forgotten scent born of inevitable end, a presence stirs. An entity, a purpose birthed from mortality and tied to name and heritage. The ether quivered, the moon hid its eyes, and the earth itself held still.

Waiting.

She lifted her head, and silver eyes beheld the world once more. She inhaled… and then the banshee screamed.    

© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved

Book Spotlight: Sceadu

A book spotlight today, with the YA fantasy novel Sceadu by Prashant Pinge.

Sceadu by Prashant Pinge

All this while, Matilda’s shadow had been growing larger and larger. Suddenly, it lunged out of the ground and swallowed her, like a python does its unsuspecting prey.

Nine year old Matilda ends up with a century old book through a series of strange coincidences. And disappears. Her brother and cousins are forced to suspend their hostilities and pursue her to Sceadu, a land inside the human shadow. Once there, the reluctant visitors find themselves chased by the vicious Hefigans, creatures of Sceadu. However, everything changes with the revelation of an ancient prophecy that foretells the doom of the world they left behind.

With the stakes suddenly raised, the children must now navigate the dangerous terrain, overcome grave challenges, and unlock the secrets of the shadow. But can they do it in time to thwart the plans of the treacherous Hefigans? Or will they succumb to the guile of a ruthless enemy who is equally determined to destroy mankind?

Sceadu is a fast-paced adventure which blurs the boundary between the physical and the psychological, the real and the mythical.

You can find Sceadu on Amazon

Also, from Dec 1st to 21st, the author will be running a Rafflecopter giveaway for Sceadu. The giveaway includes 10 Amazon Gift Cards ($10 each) and 15 e-copies of Sceadu (available in EPUB, MOBI and PDF formats).

Excerpt from Sceadu

The moon had once again found refuge behind the clouds.

“Er ye tere?” croaked a voice out of the velvety darkness.

The man scraped his elbow hard against the rough edge. But the searing pain never reached his lips.

“It’s me…ol’ Marcus.” A pale shadow followed.

“Do you have it?” The words burned in the man’s throat.

The old man stumbled, and a messily wrapped packet fell out of his stubby fingers. The man dived, grabbing at it with both hands. The packet landed with a gentle thud, followed by the dull clank of his cane. “Old fool,” he hissed. “You’ve been drinking. I should send you without a dime.”

“Jest took me a few swigs,” the old man mumbled, swaying like a reed. “To give ol’ Marcus the guts to break in.”

“Quiet,” the man snarled, thrusting his fingers into his trouser pocket. “Take these and be off.” He pushed the bills into the old man’s rough hands.

“Ye promised fifty bucks,” Marcus protested, trying hard to count.

But the man hadn’t heard a word. He simply stood still, staring at the packet that promised to change the course of his destiny.

There was a tap on his shoulder. “But ye promised…”

The man swung around, his cane raised. But his grip tightened and his hand stopped. “It’s more than a hundred,” he said, clamping down his jaw. “Now get out of here.”

Old Marcus walked away, staggering slowly in his drunken stupor.

The man drew in a long breath and kept his cane aside. For a brief instant, his mind wandered off to that gloomy winter evening many years ago, to the discovery he had made in a far away corner of the country. But this wasn’t the time for reminiscing.

The man gently loosened the strings and brought out the contents, an old book. He had the means now. From here on, his path would be one that few humans had trodden through the ages. The brown wrapping slowly drifted to the ground.

The man suddenly jerked his head. But it was only old Marcus, still sauntering towards the street. The man’s shoulders relaxed; he was in control, at least for the time being. There would be challenges ahead, grave ones. The boy had probably complicated things. But he could deal with all that later.

Author bio:

Prashant Pinge was born and brought up in the picturesque neighbourhood of Shivaji Park in the bustling city of Mumbai in India.

A quiet and diligent student throughout his schooling and college years, Prashant proceeded to pursue electrical engineering at Purdue University in the United States. Over the next decade, he accumulated three more degrees, a master of science in management from Lancaster University, a post graduate program in management from Indian School of Business, and a post MBA master in international management from Thunderbird School of Global Management.

Apart from enjoying the company of books, Prashant had always had an imaginative bent of mind. But writing only happened in the fall of 2003, when a remarkably intriguing dream interrupted an uncharacteristically deep spell of slumber, compelling him to stagger to his desk and pen down the idea. That book is still a few years away from being written. Prashant, however, continues to work from his cauldron of creativity and churn out critically acclaimed works of fiction.

In addition to his literary pursuits, Prashant is Managing Partner in his marketing and branding firm, Media Panther. In his spare time, Prashant enjoys collecting old coins, reading fiction, travelling to exotic destinations, watching movies, and listening to music. He recently wrote and produced a short film titled Freedom of Expression. Prashant is also keenly interested in the subjects of psychology, mythology and ancient history.

Prashant lives with his wife and son in Mumbai.

Author web links:

Book website – http://sceadu.net

Author website - http://prashantpinge.com

Author Facebook page - http://facebook.com/PrashantPingeAuthor

Sceadu Facebook page - http://facebook.com/SceaduTheBook

Twitter page - http://twitter.com/prashantpinge

LinkedIn page - http://in.linkedin.com/in/prashantpinge

Google+ page - http://plus.google.com/+PrashantPinge

Goodreads page - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8393378.Prashant_Pinge