500 word challenge

500 word challenge

Inside its current form, a child’s stuffed toy, the vile, malevolent darkness waited…

It had watched as the putrid flesh from the rotting carcasses had decomposed, revealing twisted skeletons, lying just as they had fallen.

The smashed bones, could allow the replaying of the final scene, so satisfying and sweet.

It would wait… it was all it could do. Its energy slowly depleting…needing… aching… craving new fresh blood.

Next time it would make the deaths and suffering last much longer. It imagined new and exquisite executions. It had learnt that killing quickly offered less in terms of satisfaction. It had time to think and plan and would curb its future maniacal instinct.

There would come a time when it could attach to organic forms and transitions would be rapid. As each new night began its hatred grew.

Splatting flies into walls and watching their bodies explode into puffs of blood became its main amusement. Honing its skills and creating macabre mosaics on the crumbling plaster became its purpose… for now.

It remembered its own death and how its own anger had spoilt that transition. If only it had known its soul was so dark and foul it would be allowed only one. It was proud that its soul was so unworthy and heavy it would never own a form again… merely use them. It waited for that night to come.

The ritual of killing was like a three course meal. The fear of the shocked mortal a delicious aperitif. The energy it stole a taster for so much more. The decision to kill or prolong and how, the main, a mouth-watering menu of delights. Its last killing, replayed so many times became an erotic fantasy. A simple swift heart removal smashing through the ribs. The beating heart still pumping not knowing it was dead… and then the dessert. The sweet taste of a human soul, always hidden through flesh and blood. It took a moment to reveal itself and then the delicious ecstasy of the milky, pure soul. Eventually it would be quick enough to capture it all. For now a scrape would have to do. It was an insanely addictive drive that compelled the bile festering malevolence to demand souls.

But for now it would wait…

A car door and noises downstairs excites the demonic rage. Suppressing laughter. It needed to be silent not to fear the coming souls.

Anticipating the sight of faces shocked by death, almost too much to bear.

The door was sticking, the vile beast’s laugh broke out.

“What was that? Did you hear that? There’s someone in there?

A young male soul with an aura of pure love came into the room. Stunned, shocked, bent over and vomiting, he dropped his camera to the floor.

That was all the energy the vileness needed.

From inside the camera it saw the toy where it had spent so many years. Stronger now and thoroughly entertained. The waiting was over…


Monday Challenge

Eileen’s challenge. Select book 3rd from end. 8th chapter, 15 sentence “Mine was A Shakespeare Anthology. Chapter 8 A midsummer nights dream. Sentence 15. “So quick bright things come to confusion” what am I to do with that ?

So quick bright things come to confusion” had been the strangest headstone inscription I had ever seen. I took a photo with my phone and decided to do some research later. There really must be an interesting story behind that I thought.

I rubbed the stone to reveal the dates as they were much worn, I guessed seventeenth century and the last date sixty nine, I thought.

The grave, at the oldest part of the ancient cemetery of St Cyprian’s Church, well off the beaten track and not accustomed to visitors, was shaded by a huge oak tree. The roots would certainly be causing problems with the inhabitant judging by the gnarled, knobbly protrusions.

There was a pretty carpet of unusual blue flowers that spread across the grave and up the stone and tree. I tried to pick one to examine closer but every time the flower would quickly disappear into the ground. After several attempts I managed to snare one and as I looked I felt my eye sting. I rubbed my eye hard and it watered. I felt strangely tired and lay down on the grave.

When I opened my eyes I was surrounded by tiny, delicate, winged people who were laughing and chattering away. They were pointing at me and dancing on me. I felt dizzy. They shouted together

“Come and join us, come and join us we need a female”

I shouted “No! Leave me alone”

Next thing I knew was the vicar offering his hand and helping me up.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

“I’m not sure” I said getting up.

I turned to point at the grave but found only a bench beneath the old Oak tree.

“I’m confused” I said “but wait” remembering my photo.

No photo was on my phone, alas and I couldn’t recall the inscription.

The vicar looked at me with such a look and as he accompanied me out of the churchyard he said.

“There have been many strange things happen at that tree over the years. Your story is not unique. The bench commemorates several people that have gone missing over the years who were last seen at the graveyard.”

As he turned to walk away I swear I heard him say

“So quick bright things come confusion” and I saw him disappear.

I still have no idea what it means but I ain’t going back.

Josh Delaney

In a single moment, the bad tempered rain clouds made peace and the sunlight wearing ballet shoes tip toed delicately over the faces of the suddenly silent new-borns at St. Cyprian’s maternity ward.

All was very calm and quiet and the air had a smell that something very important was taking place. It started with a small giggle. The red eyed midwives tending to Mrs Faith Delaney, were still carrying the burden of two stillborns earlier, felt a wave of healing energy and recorded the birth of Josh Delaney 6lbs 6oz at 06.06 am on the 6th day of June.

The giggle grew and became a belly laugh that spread from room to room, ward to ward and soon infected the whole hospital. The most uncontrollable belly laugh in the history of laughter.

The doctors were baffled! There had never been a child recorded as being born laughing, it simply wasn’t possible! Babies are born with an instinct to cry not to laugh. Laughter comes much later.

As they cleaned this delicious laughing baby they noticed amongst his mop of black hair a striking mass of white. The child had been born with grey hair. Josh winked at the midwife and giggled when she drew attention to it. His deep dark brown smiling eyes screamed a knowledge, a wisdom and an enthusiastic interest in all around him.

Faith had every reason to be proud for she had a most unusual son in so many ways. He had come late to her as she was 42 and already had a daughter Joy, who was grown and making her way in the world. Josh had been the last and loveliest thing her beautiful husband Alex had done for her. Sadly her husband had died suddenly of a sub arachnoid haemorrhage at the moment of conception. His last moment, an expression of pure love had created Josh. She knew at that moment when they took her husband away that she wasn’t alone, as she sobbed into her hands.

She didn’t grieve as people seemed to imagine as she had this little soul inside her to keep her company. Outwardly her appearance changed drastically as overnight her black hair turned white but her inner feelings could not explain why this happened. It was as if from the womb Josh was saying all the right things, speaking soul to soul and instilling her with a wisdom that was not her own.

As josh got older, the only noises he made were cheerful sounds. If you gave him something he didn’t like he would laugh so hard it would take two nappies to stop the laughing…. And that of course he found hilarious. He delighted in his bodily functions, changing nappies had never been such fun.

She didn’t know where she ended and he began, the bond and symbiotic love was so powerful and so pure. At night he slept next to her and brushed his little fingers through her hair gently as she became wrapped in sleep. So gentle and so caring was his manner.

One June morning when even the sun was happy Faith was tending to the lawn Josh came to her and took instinctively her by the hand. He led her to the area where the wild flowers grew, pointing out a nest of new born hedge sparrows on the way. He smiled and studied her and lifted up a leaf to show a struggling butterfly fighting the last of its cocoon. They watched mesmerised standing vigil over the butterfly, silent and vulnerable, waiting for its wings to dry and to be strong enough to fly. It was as if Josh was using this as a metaphor that it was time for him to fly.

From then on four year old Josh, slept in his own bed.

When he was at school, although he never spoke, it didn’t stop him excelling in his work. He was loved instantly by everyone who came in contact with him. He carried a huge calming aura that extended well beyond his own personal space. On entering a classroom the other kids would immediately settle and focus on their work.

On paper though, because of his silence and that he would often seem to be in a world of his own, he was given a diagnosis of Autism. Faith and his teachers knew this was wrong as Josh was a powerful communicator. Faith asked him why he wouldn’t speak and implored him to start for she feared it might cause him problems in the long term. Josh just wrapped his mum up in a huge hug kissed her lightly on the cheek and chortled gently.

When his mum went to her little study later she found the printer had chugged out two quotes. One unknown “he who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words” and another “when you talk you are only repeating what you already know but if you listen you may learn something new” Elbert Hubbard.

Faith never asked him to speak again.

He was certainly a unique soul, receptive, intelligent and very beautiful with his two tone hair and captivating eyes and ready smile.

At school he continued to perform brilliantly academically, and to teach more than he was taught. He liked to sit alone and watch and listen to nature’s music and drama but students and teachers would seek him out to be near him or to confide in him.

Faith had received a phone call from the school stating there had been an incident. Apparently another boy had brought a gun to school and intended using it against his teacher. Josh was in another classroom and despite his teacher’s protestations had continued heavily with a purpose. He walked silently and calmly to the boy with the gun. Standing between the boy and a Mr Gaines, a cruel and unpopular teacher, the gun pointed at Josh’s forehead.

As the rain clouds gathered above, Faith’s fragile heart that had seen so much pain…… suddenly stopped.


I hated Charlie ! He was fine during the day but at night, on his chair, when the moonlight stroked his face he came to life. I was never known to lie but still nobody believed me. He didn’t get up or walk around but he came to life. There would be a noise, a little shuffle and I would look. Something deeply hidden inside, wanted out.

Charlie arrived one Christmas day, in his box that looked like a coffin. I don’t know where he came from, everyone else seemed to like him.I didn’t like the way he looked at me when no one was looking. I don’t think he liked me much either. He didn’t look any better when I pulled his cap over his eyes, that made him smirk because he knew he was winning.

I didn’t want to touch him but family always came at Christmas and my auntie wanted a performance. Being a kid meant I had to do it. My show started the way most eight year olds would do it !

“Gottle of gear ! Gottle of gear ! I got a lot of laughter, and smiles that made me feel loved. But then, I got good, I got really good. In fact I didn’t need to press the lever for his mouth I was so good. It sounded like my voice but I wasn’t speaking. I didn’t know where the words were coming from but they didn’t come from me. Everyone went quiet then because I was so good.

Charlie said ” No one wants you here! You both drink too much!  did you shag your husband’s friend when your husband went to the pub today” I laughed because I thought Charlie said a rude word but I didn’t know what it meant.

My family didn’t laugh. My uncle Tom went in a bad mood and my Auntie Elsie went quiet. My mam told me to put the doll away but I couldn’t, my hand was stuck. My thumb got stuck behind the lever and Charlie started laughing. It was a horrible laugh and I couldn’t stop him. The lever started to squash my thumb and I started to scream and Charlie was still laughing. My mam and auntie Elsie came running over to help. The lever was cutting into my thumb and blood trickled out of Charlie’s mouth. My dad came running with a hammer, I don’t know what he was going to do with that.

The lever released my thumb, I was free! My thumb was bent the wrong way and the pain was unbelievable. There was some blood and a gash that showed bone.

My auntie Elsie had a wet face when she sat next to me at casualty. I said sorry but I didn’t know why. She said I shouldn’t listen to grown up’s conversations, but I didn’t they were boring.

I didn’t want to play with Charlie and he was put on my reading chair next to the window in my room.

Charlie would make my thumb hurt more when I went to bed so I would sleep next to my dad.

Charlie was getting stronger.