Victoria Tunney
Bio
I love writing short fictions, especially horror, fantasy, and historical fiction. Previously published in The Last Line literary journal 2016 with 'Witchlight' and The Last Line literary journal 2017 with 'Faded Memories'
Stories (5)
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Smoke and Mirrors
The smell of gunpowder and smoke still lingered on his tattered clothes. Rebecca had been watching him for hours, waiting for him to wake up or pass away. Helen had done what she could for him, the shrapnel which had torn through his uniform lay in a bowl by his feet, and now it was a slow wait for God to decide his fate. She gently wiped his brow, the damp cloth darkening his copper blonde hair to a murky brown. His eyes flickered fitfully under closed lids, face twitching in pain. Rebecca knew he would not feel half of what the explosion had caused for Helen had dosed him heavily with Willow Bark to numb the pain, yet she still felt the sting in her heart as she watched him react to his wounds. She was in favour of Cromwell, after all, the King had done nought but ravage his country with taxes and his push to reunite England with Rome, but her gentle nature wept for each solider and innocent caught up in the war. The man on the table could only have been a few years older than herself, the soft down of a man's beard beginning its spread like the first buds of spring. Yet here he lay, somewhere between worlds and facing an uncertain future, for fighting for the king.
By Victoria Tunney5 years ago in Humans
Fates Entwined
The window was open just enough to let in the cool night air. I had not stopped pacing my chamber from the moment the message had arrived. I was on the cusp of womanhood, only months from my 15th name-day, and my life was about to change and, to my mind, not for the better. Tomorrow morning, my new betrothed would arrive to offer his gifts and pledge himself to me but instead of joy and excitement, I could only feel a sense of loss and resentment. My sister had married the man that I had loved since childhood and, even as I paced, lay in the childbed awaiting the birth of their first child. With the arrival of the future Jarl of Kilbruin, all my hopes of seeing Ulfric without my sister at his side would disappear. I would be expected to spend every waking moment with him for as long as he stayed at Highmourne, leaving precious little time to see Ulfric alone when he visited my father. I had not spoken to him since the eve of his betrothal to Helga, and we had not parted on good terms. I had been angry, childish, and selfish, resulting in Ulfric leaving me alone and cold on the jetty without a single word of goodbye. I had even feigned serious illness to avoid attending the wedding for fear of what I might do, much to my mother’s dismay. I had learnt in that time however that I can be quite the convincing actress when the need arises. But how to act truly happy was still beyond my skill set, and the sense of dread at meeting Sven Irnhyde only grew with each passing hour.
By Victoria Tunney5 years ago in Humans
A Promise Kept
Rebecca drummed her long fingers against the dark wood, glaring at the row of gentlemen seated across from her. They had been at this current argument for roughly 4 hours now and were no closer to a solution than they had been at the start. Her daughter was not some piece of carpet or a prize pig ready for market, and her temper had nearly reached its limit. Magdalene was nearly 15 and, as of yet, no suitable husband had been found for her. She was a plain and homely girl, taking after her father in all ways, but this was hardly the issue. A son would marry whomever his father decided on, the problem was her dowry. Lord Ranolf had been a good and kind man, but a poor marshal of his lands, leaving Rebecca and their child almost penniless.
By Victoria Tunney7 years ago in Humans
Escaping the Cage
Marbella Ashbrooke had been given the duty of watching her younger sister that day but as usual, Luciella had wandered off after playing in the kitchen garden. Marbella rushed to the gate at the far end of the wall, heart pounding as she shot out into the bright evening sunlight. This wasn't the first time Luciella had vanished but something felt different. Even Lady Ashbrook, a woman not given to panic or nervousness, had all but thrown her younger children to the maids and raced out to join the search. When Marbella had sent a nursemaid back to the bower to report Luciella's escape, Lady Judith had gone wild with worry exclaiming how she had known something was wrong before the maid entered. Father had pulled together every available man, woman, and teenager to search for the girl who had been happily playing at midday and was now nowhere to be seen in the fading light. A small army of people were now racing around the manor and its grounds, striking Marbella like the nymphs and sprites from her books as they darted back and forth. Long shadows had begun to stretch across the grounds from the forest beyond the house and the air had become so tense that Marbella found it hard to breathe.
By Victoria Tunney7 years ago in Horror
Lost in Time
They've started to notice. I have to hand it to them, it was quicker than the last family. Only today, I heard the father muttering that he must be going insane. After all, why would anyone leave car keys on top of a wardrobe? I can't help it, I like the way they jiggle when I shift them around the house. It's not like there's anything else I can do. The boy, Leon, is hardly around, college some place up north, but his sister Emily is my age and still living at home. I like watching Emily and her friends, with their make-overs and dress swapping, but I can never be a part of that. I can't leave the house either, so following her on a day-out into town is out of the question. All my friends grew old and died centuries ago. My family left the house not long after my accident, too many memories I suppose. Mother became so emotional, especially when she came across anything that was once mine, and Father, well, he became a volatile mess of the proud man he was. They tried for months, pretending that everything was fine and that they had grieved for their girl, but it never healed. God above, I took long enough to come to terms with where and what I was. In an eavesdropped conversation, 3 weeks after my funeral, I finally found out how I had died. Turned out that my fiance, Jimmy Fellon, the banker's son, had upturned the cart whilst bringing me home from town. He was running the horse down the embankment to my parent's farm when the wheel snagged, pitching me forward and straight under a galloping horse. I was apparently killed outright, which my unwilling informer pressed would be a comfort to my family. So only 8 months after they buried me, my parents sold up and headed east with my siblings for a new life far from the pain. The people I once knew stopped by a few times when the new family arrived but it got too depressing to see them growing older with each visit, or bringing their own families to the house after church, so I stopped watching.
By Victoria Tunney8 years ago in Futurism
