Historical
The Lougarou of Laplaine
Gathered around the fire as neighbors, and families laughed together under the evening sky as they did every full moon, they ate their fill of fire roasted native dishes. It was amazing the way the tribe found the strength to honor the lives of the missing elderly, amidst the empty beds, and the missing wisdom holders that neighbors woke up to in the yard every 3rd full moon cycle…. the numbers of the lost elderly were increasingly high this time around, so uniting together for community care and blessings of the Yard elder to celebrate life that has come and gone was exactly the remedy for tears they shared. The neighborhoods were divided into yards of 12 houses per yard and each were like a village with 1 yard leader, an elder… Our yard leader Noushka (Noushka) was not your average elder… adored and celebrated by all, she was filled with an endless source of wisdom, wise beyond the years that were etched on her youthful deep brown skin, nothing about her cracked…
By Nia🌺of 🌸The 🌻Flowers🌹4 years ago in Fiction
Castle McDermott
A shrill cry echoes in the night. Candlelight illuminates Freya's face from across the room. Looking into my sister’s wide eyes, I know she heard it too. I hear shuffling from somewhere inside the cottage, footsteps on the floor, light moving its way closer to the door frame.
By Kelsey Kidder4 years ago in Fiction
Eugenia
She had probably been hanging there all night when they found her. She had been young and lithe from what they could tell, her previously sharp ebony skin now turning a sickly gray. They agreed that she must have once radiated real beauty. A beauty that had probably gone unnoticed in the small town they were in. They hoped it had anyway. The alternative was likely worse.
By Louis Allen4 years ago in Fiction
Familiar. Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge.
It started as the slightest of murmurs - a fraying thread on the last edges of my exhale. I didn't think much of it at the time. Allergies, I supposed. But when that charming little rasp raised its voice and threatened to rattle my lungs free of their rib cage with each hacking cough, I began to suspect I might be due for a more professional opinion.
By James Stephans4 years ago in Fiction
Tendu
The riven trunk of the old fig tree marks the start and the end of Tendu. Tedious summer heat, heavy air. The green of fresh rice paddy, gold of standing corn and red of children’s paintings on little caves, scantily scatter the area. In the shadows of the night, the fig tree echoes harsh hoots beneath the talons of the old white barn owl, bearing wisdom and perception as a gift that unravels with time. Where the vision of the old owl still reaches, lies the town, the romance and the brawl, nasty potholes and overflowing trash, big sidewalks and tiny feet, stench of stale food and cheap perfumes, crusty walls and doma stained teeth.
By Diktshya Sharma4 years ago in Fiction
Crimes of a Feather. Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge.
1911-Cornwall Awake early, Imogen watched from her upstairs bedroom window as the men walked down the road toward the China clay plant. Was the blue-eyed boy among them this time? From this angle, it was difficult to tell. She could hear a lone thrush call out to its mate, and then a mournful cooing.
By April Cope4 years ago in Fiction
Vessels of Darkness
Zipping by the bustling market in Ninkong, full of vendors seeking customers to buy their wares, Bao Wang hurried to the bird stall where the owner had imported an owl, just as he had requested. Looking to participate in the first secret rodent remediation job opportunity offered by the undergrown movement against Chibaese rule, the wage of ten million fabi a week was nothing to be sneezed at. Parking his rusty bike outside the shop, he opened the door, which rang a tiny bell alerting the shopkeeper to his presence.
By Jesse Leung4 years ago in Fiction
Secret in the Barn. Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge.
Beth twisted and turned all night after the strange soldier turned up at their door. She was in a glade, walking faster and faster trying to find her way out. Then she was running, and suddenly a light burst through the trees and she was standing on a flat plain. Smoke was everywhere. The roar of gunfire split her skull, pounding in her eardrums. Covering her ears, Beth ducked and ran, screaming wordlessly to drown out the cries echoing in her ears that she heard from the hospital. Then out of the chaos, a hand grabbed hers, warm and strong. She lifted her tearstained face and saw Samuel looking down at her.
By Summers Rose4 years ago in Fiction
Once a Witch of Endor
Once a Witch of Endor Witch is not a welcome word in our land. After the king drove out the necromancers and magic makers, it’s best to carry on every day like the non-magical folk tied to this land, adhering to their ways. All else must be hidden.
By Erin J Blubaugh4 years ago in Fiction
