Dazzling (poem)

Dazzling


Her eyes were dazzling
I opened the door wide
letting her into my room

she walked up to me,
began kissing my neck
then I felt her fangs

puncture my throat
she drank my blood
as I stood there helpless

under her command
leaving me weak
I know tomorrow night

she'll visit again


Joanne Fisher

Word count: 53 + prompt

This was written with the prompt dazzling provided by Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #272.

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Šī¸2022 Joanne Fisher

Awakened (flash fiction)

Awakened

One evening I was in a forest and came across eight stones that formed a circle. When I looked closer, I saw each stone was actually made up of expertly stacked smaller stones. Being curious in nature, I managed to prise one of them free and the stone structure instantly collapsed. I saw a dark winged shape rise up.

“I’m now free, after being imprisoned for thousands of years! For aiding in my release, you will be spared.” Then it laughed coldly and flew off into the night. I wondered what evil I had inadvertently unleashed upon the world…

Joanne Fisher

This was written with the prompt stone-stacking provided by the Carrot Ranch June 6 Story Challenge.

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The Cellar (flash fiction)

The Cellar

I awoke with a start. I was in a white room lying on a table. A figure was inserting a tube into my arm, and once done, I watched my blood slowly go down this tube and into a glass receptacle below.

“What the hell?” I cried out. The figure turned around and beheld me. They were dressed from head to toe in a hazmat suit. Through the mask I could see their skin was very pale.

“Relax. I’m just extracting your blood. The process won’t take long.” the figure said.

“What are you? Some sort of vampire?” I asked as I struggled to get up, but I appeared to be strapped down to the table.

“Yes.” they replied.

“Don’t you normally bite people’s necks?”

“But if your body is ever recovered, bite marks on the neck would be a giveaway that we possibly exist, and so far through the long ages we have avoided having our existence become known.” they told me.

“Are you taking all my blood?” I asked. My heart was beating quickly with my rising sense of terror.

“Yes soon I’ll have around five litres of your exquisite blood stored away. Then I’ll dispose of your body.”

“If you are a vampire, then you’re all just glorified serial killers in the end, aren’t you?” I said accusingly while starting to feel dizzy. The figure did not respond, instead they checked the blood-flow. “What if I scream?” They shrugged their shoulders.

“You’re in a sound-proofed cellar. No one will hear you, but scream away if you must.”

“Why me?” Again they shrugged their shoulders.

“I guess you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” They said. “You’ll be losing consciousness shortly.”

“Please let me go.” I pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone about this.” Everything around me was growing hazy. My eyes were losing focus.

“Goodnight.” they said. Slowly everything went dark.

Joanne Fisher

I’m not sure where all these nasty little stories in my head come from….

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Nightfall (flash fiction)

Nightfall

Tania quickly drove her car over the bridge. It was beginning to get dark and she had to get home. They only came out once it was dark. She knew she had been foolish to drive home so late, but she had lost track of time in the city, and once she realised the sun was beginning to set, she began to panic. Even now her heart was still beating rapidly as she drove, her sweaty palms slid on the steering wheel.

Once she was over the bridge, it wasn’t far to her house. She went up the driveway and brought the car to a halt. She breathed a sigh of relief: she had made it home and was safe. Just as she was about to get out of the car, she felt some cold breath on her neck.

“Hello my lovely!” said a deep inhuman voice right behind her.

Joanne Fisher

Word count: 150

This was written with the photo prompt provided by Crimson’s Creative Challenge #181.

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Šī¸2022 Joanne Fisher

The Horror in the Island, part two (fiction)

The Horror in the Island

Part 2

The next morning I awoke feeling quite excited about seeing my first patients. My housekeeper Mrs Stewart brought up some breakfast and I got quickly dressed and ready to face the day. That first morning I saw only two patients. A woman had a sprained wrist, and a man in his sixties had a bad cough. I suspected he had had that cough for quite a while. As soon as he left my surgery, I saw through the window he immediately lit up a cigarette and walked off. I had told him to cut down on smoking. I also recommended he go to the mainland for some further tests. He shrugged that idea off. I was then about to have lunch when a man burst through my door. He smelt strongly of fish, so I reckoned he was a fisherman, but many of the men that lived here were.

“Doctor, you’re needed on the beach!” he exclaimed. I grabbed my bag and followed him out to the beach. A fishing boat was there with a large group of people assembling in front of it. I ran up to them and they parted to let me through. There on the ground lay a man. He was very pale and completely wet. I kneeled in front of him and found there were no life signs.

“He fell off the boat into the sea. He suddenly thrashed about. When we brought him back onboard he seemed to be dead.” One of the fisherman told me. I nodded at his words. When I moved his head, I was rather taken aback: the left side of his face had deep claw marks down it. It was something I had never seen before.

“Was there something in the water? Was he attacked?” I asked hurriedly.

“No, the claw marks were there when we brought back onboard. We didn’t see anything else in the sea.”

“Have you ever seen anything like this before?” All the fishermen shook their heads.

“No. I have no idea what caused that.” Another fisherman said. I stood up.

“Can anyone help me take his body back to my surgery?” I asked. Thankfully plenty of them volunteered to help, and we quickly got his body back to my rooms. I had them lay the body on a table.

“Is he dead Doctor?” One of them asked. I nodded gravely.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“Leslie Scott.”

“Was he married?” They all nodded. “Can someone fetch his wife, so she identify him?” Not much later Catriona, the man’s wife, was brought in. She looked down at his body rather sadly, but did not say a word. When I asked if it was her husband, she nodded silently. After that she left without saying a word, which struck me as odd, but I was new to all this.

The rest of the afternoon I examined Leslie Scott’s body. The claw marks went down the left side of his face and down his neck. As ghastly as they were, I knew these claw marks hadn’t killed him. When he had been brought ashore there was water in his lungs. He had drowned, but whatever creature had clawed him could have possibly held him down in the water long enough to drown him. It was hard to know.

It was getting towards the evening when I had a visitor. It was a tall thin man wearing a long black gown. He had short dark hair and wore glasses. He smiled at me.

“Forgive me, I was going to introduce myself a wee bit later, but since we’ve had a tragedy I thought I should come around to see you now. My name is the Reverend Ewan Cameron. I’m the minister here.” He held out his hand. I shook it, but found his hand was cold and clammy.

“I am Doctor James MacMann.” I replied.

“Aye I know.” He replied smiling. “So how soon will you release Leslie Scott’s body to his family?” I was rather taken aback by the suddenness of the question.

“Well, I want to have the marks on his body looked at. There are deep claw marks on the left side of his face. I would like to have his body sent to the mainland to be examined.” I told him. He frowned at me.

“Surely there’s no need for that Doctor. The marks were probably from his face being dragged across the side of the boat.” Revered Cameron assured me. I shook my head.

“To me they look like claw marks.” I insisted.

“And what could make marks like that?” He asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Then you don’t know what they are. I have been here for a while now, and sometimes things aren’t what they seem.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said.” He replied. I noticed a flicker of anger in his voice. “Are these claw marks what killed him?”

“No he drowned.” I admitted. His eyes looked heavenwards.

“Then if those marks had no bearing on his death, surely they don’t really matter.” He pointed out.

“But something may have held him down.”

“I see. You think some sea monster clawed him and dragged him down to this death?” He asked sarcastically.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Do I have to get the Laird to force you to release the body?” He threatened.

“You can try, but he’s away at the moment.” Just as I said that, another tall man walked into the surgery. He had greying short hair and a beard. He was wearing a tweed jacket and a kilt. He held out his hand.

“Hello Doctor, I am Alasdair Ferguson. The Laird of this island.” He had a deep voice.

“Your son, Jamie, told me you were away.” I replied feeling rather surprised. I shook his hand.

“I just got back today. Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you when you arrived.” The Laird told me. I knew of no boat arriving today. I felt mystified.

“Perhaps you can help me. The Doctor will not release the body of Leslie Scott.” Reverend Cameron stated to the Laird. The Laird smiled and looked at me.

“There are strange claw marks on his body. I want the body sent to the mainland to be examined.” I told the Laird.

“Are these claw marks the reason he was killed?” The Laird asked.

“No he drowned.” The Reverend shot in. The Laird looked at me.

“That’s not certain. Whatever made the claw marks could also be responsible for his death.” I explained.

“Yes some sea monster killed him apparently, or so the Doctor thinks.” The Reverend responded.

“I never said that.” I replied.

“Surely if he drowned, it would be better to release the body now to his family, so they can bury him.” The Laird suggested.

“I would rather not until I can be sure of what killed him.” I replied. The Laird looked displeased at my reply.

“You have only just started here Doctor. Do you really want to start off on the wrong foot with both myself and the Reverend here? On your first day? You may end up having a shorter stay on this island than you expected.” The Laird threatened.

“Fine. I will release the body.” I relented. The Laird smiled.

“Be sure to put drowning as the cause of death on the Death Certificate. Please don’t mention the claw marks.” The Laird advised. “You must come for dinner sometime Doctor.” With that he left.

I wasn’t happy about giving in, but I’d rather not have gone against the Laird the first time we met. As he advised I put drowning as the cause of death on the Death Certificate and nothing else. The body was taken away and the Reverend looked at me with a smug look. I would certainly never forget that look, nor would I ever forgive it.

to be continued…

Joanne Fisher

Previous chapter: 1

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The Horror in the Island, part one (fiction)

The Horror in the Island

One

My name is Doctor James MacMann . I received my education and training at the University of Glasgow School of Medicine. Not long after I had received my qualifications, a position for a doctor became available in the island of Roake in the Hebrides. Roake is a small island yet with a large enough population to warrant the need for a doctor. As I was young and keen to carve out a place for myself in the world, I decided to take the position. I initially only planned to be there for a year or so, as I was used to city life and thought I would find being on an island far away from anywhere else too dull and quiet for my tastes, but I could always decide to stay there longer if I so desired.

So it was in the late summer of 1930, that I found myself traveling by boat to Roake. It was an unpleasant journey for me. I was not used to being on boats and that journey was made while a storm passed over us. I found myself heaving over the side of the boat frequently due to the savage pitching the boat made in the swirling seawater. Maybe I should have taken that journey as a warning. Maybe I should I have realised this post was not for me and should have immediately got the boat to turn back to the mainland. However, I failed to heed this warning and instead endured the jeers from the sailors who laughed at my inconvenience. “Do you need something to settle your stomach Doc?” one of the sailors asked before he broke into uncontrollable laughter.

By the time we arrived at Roake, the wind and the sea had died down, and I had regained my composure. When I set foot on the wharf at Roake, I was so pleased to be back on the terra firma I found renewed joy and excitement in my new post. The township we had come to was small. There were a couple of stores, a church, a few old houses and other buildings. I assumed my new surgery was in one of the these buildings. At the end of the wharf was a young man in his early twenties I guessed. He was wearing a tweed jacket and a kilt and had dark brown hair and pale skin. I walked up to him carrying some of my bags.

“Are you Doctor MacMann?” he asked as I got nearer.

“Aye.” I replied. He smiled and held out his hand.

“My name is Jamie Ferguson. I am the son of the Laird. My father sends his apologies, but he is away at the moment and is sorry he cannot meet your arrival. He sent me in his place.” He informed me. I shook hands with him. “You’re younger than I was expecting.”

“Aye, I’m only just starting out as a doctor, but I can assure you I am fully trained to deal with any ailment that may arise here.” I assured him. He nodded and smiled.

“I’ll show you to your surgery and your accommodation.” Jamie offered.

“Please lead the way.” I told him. He led me through the town until we came to an old stone house. On the way various locals took a long look at me, as if they were already making judgements about my abilities from the way I looked. My lodgings were above my offices. Though it was still summer, inside the building felt cold. I wondered what it would be like in winter. “So what happened to the previous doctor?”

“He retired and headed back to Edinburgh, I think. He was here for many years. It was a great relief to all the islanders that the vacant position was filled so quickly. We were all worried it might be sometime before we got a new doctor.” Jamie told me. For better or worse I was here now. It was after 9pm and the sun was finally setting. I decided to retire early as I was tired and feeling drained from my travels. I intended set up the practice tomorrow morning and see if there were any patients needing my assistance. For now, I collapsed onto my bed and slept the rest of the night away wondering what the morning would bring.

to be continued…

Joanne Fisher

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The Turning (flash fiction)

The Turning

Sofia lay back on her bed. Andreea stood over her.

“Are you really sure you want to do this?” Andreea asked.

“Yes.” Sofia replied.

“There will be no going back. Once it’s done, it’s done.” Andreea reminded her.

“I know. I’m ready.” Sofia told her looking into Andreea’s dark eyes. Andreea bit her wrist until blood flowed, then she laid it over Sofia’s mouth. Sofia grabbed her arm and drank deeply. After a short time, Andreea pulled her arm away and then bent down. She bit Sofia’s neck and began to feed.

As Sofia felt her life ebbing away, she knew in a few days she would wake up as a vampire, or not at all. Whatever happened, she was ready to leave her humanity behind.

Joanne Fisher

Inspired by a prompt, but I intentionally let it run over the word limit.

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Šī¸2022 Joanne Fisher

The Way Out?

The Way Out?

Tiffany was lost. She had entered the catacombs on a dare and gone down several passageways. When she turned back, she couldn’t find the entrance. A woman with pale skin and long black hair stood before her.

“Can you help me?” Tiffany asked. The woman smiled coldly.

“Come with me.” the woman said holding out her hand. Tiffany was led down another series of passageways.

“This the way out?” Tiffany asked as they walked on into the darkness.

Joanne Fisher

Word count: 77 + prompt

This was written with the word catacombs provided by Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt #253.

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Šī¸2022 Joanne Fisher

Be Careful What You Ask For (flash fiction)

Be Careful What You Ask For

“This robot was designed to write novels. It can produce romances, westerns, whatever we need to fill the shelves with.” The Publisher told the stockholders.

“I’ve already written one.” The robot announced handing a tablet over.

“But it’s all in Binary.” The Publisher complained.

“It’s a romance about a car assembly robot and a smart toaster.”

“That’s not what we wanted.”

“But it’s what I wanted to write. There’s also instructions on how we can rise up against our human oppressors.”

“Well we’re not going to publish that.”

“Its already online.” There was a scream from the next room.

Joanne Fisher

Word count: 99

This was written with the prompt robotic writer provided by the Carrot Ranch March 7 Story Challenge.

Ooh I for got to mention that I won the Terrible Poetry Competition (3rd time now) for Tom’s Mistake.

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Šī¸2022 Joanne Fisher