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Monthly Archives: June 2015

Noodles of Doom

“Go on, do it again!”
    There was another burst of drunken laughter as Marion waved the feather duster dramatically. “O Lord of darkness, with this feather duster of doom I do summon thee,” she cried. “See how the noodles of evil dance in thy honour!” She had to stop at this point as she was overcome with hysterical giggling.
    Dan hauled himself to his feet and positioned himself opposite his drinking companion. “Halt, thou worshipper of all things evil!” he shouted. “With this… Biro…” Another burst of laughter “…I will drive thee back into the pits of Hades were thou belongest!”
    “Stop it!” exclaimed Linda. “I’m nearly wetting myself here.” The two performers slumped back onto their chairs as yet more vodka was poured out. Outside the run-down barn the wind whistled mournfully threw the cracks and knotholes. “Core, listennesat,” Martin slurred. “Sas proper Hallween weather thassis.” There was more drunken sniggering. “You think Dracula’ll turn up?” somebody asked. “Nah, got done in, dinnee,” somebody else answered. “Yeah, but whabou ghos,” said Martin. “They’re sposebe all active ‘n stuff at Hallween.” 
    Pulling himself to his feet, he raised his arms and began lurching drunkenly around the barn making woo woo noises. This prompted another fit of laughter from his companions. “See! The evil one walks among us!” yelled Marion, jumping to her feet and brandishing the feather duster and plastic cup of instant noodles once more. “Speak, oh evilest of evil ones and let us know thy wish!” “My wish… my wish is…” began Martin.”Another drink!”
    Everyone cheered and several people downed the remainder of theirs in one to join him. There was a brief silence as drinks were swigged and crisps were munched on. Finally someone asked: “But seriously, is there such a thing’s ghosts?” there was a chorus of ‘nah’ and ‘don’t be stupid’. “If there was then something’d have turned up by now,” commented Marion. “I mean, we summoned it, didn’t we?” Dan snorted.
    “Yeah right, with the feather duster of doom and the noodles of evil.”
    “And bloody good noodles they were too,” said Martin and let out a colossal belch.

“Hey, is it me or is it getting colder in here?” somebody asked at length. In the group’s current state, this should have prompted a comment along the lines of ‘you need another drink to warm you up.’ But everyone felt the change in temperature now. At the same moment a cloud drifted across the moon, blocking its silvery rays which up til then had been lighting the barn through a skylight.
    The shadows suddenly seemed much darker and somehow threatening. “Come on, it’s just a cloud blocking the moonlight,” said Dan, trying to sound nonchalant. There was a soft creaking from somewhere near the door and then several people screamed.
    In the middle of the ever deepening, ever lengthening shadows two glowing red eyes had appeared. Slowly the shadows massed together around these eyes into a huge, hulking, impenetrable darkness that flowed towards the terrified drinkers, engulfing them. The shrieks of fear turned to screams of agony, then choked gurgling and finally silence.
    Slowly the dark mass retreated back to the corner where it had originated. As it did so the glowing eyes travelled malevolently over the scene in the now silent barn. All that was left of the drunken merrymaking were cooling puddles of melted glass and piles of bleached bones. Before fading into the night, the eyes lingered for a moment on the two items that seemed out of place in the horrendous scene. A half melted plastic cup, out of which protruded a noodle, and a single, slightly scorched feather.

***
Prompt: write a horror scene (or something horrific) using a wet noodle, a styrofoam cup and a feather.

Copyright © Rainbow

 
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Posted by on Sunday 14 June 2015 in Flash fiction, Horror, Humour

 

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Not Your World

You say
‘I admire you for coping so well’
I say
Do you get admiration for living your life?

 

You tell me
‘It can’t be that difficult, surely?’
I say
Have you never been prevented by others from doing anything?

 

You ask
‘How on earth can you do that independently?’
I say
Like you, maybe in a slightly different way

 

You say
‘If I were in your shoes, I’d just give up’
I say
Do you really give up at every little obstacle?

 

Stop assuming you know about me
My world is not your world

 

 

***
Copyright © Rainbow

 
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Posted by on Sunday 7 June 2015 in General, Poems

 

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Mother Earth

Look around you, what do you see?
The sky, the clouds, the ground
Houses, streets, offices and shops
A car horn sounds, a lorry stops
But is that all there is to be found?

 

We may have fine cities, money and good food
But what did Mother Earth pay?
We did not heed nature, though she pleaded and cried
Now the birds have flown, the plants have died
And left only a dull stony grey

 

From the first day on earth man wanted to rule
To make Mother Earth his slave
She watched as bombs exploded and oil was spilled
We polluted, destroyed, burnt and killed,
Everything she ever gave

 

But now at last her patience is gone
And she is starting to strike back
First walls of water she sent crashing onto land
Later winds that no man-made construction could withstand
Such was the wroth of her attack

 

Oh, we listened then, were awed by her power
Realised that we could fall
But as soon as the dead were buried and gone
And the cities rebuilt, we carried on
Heedless to Mother Earth’s call

 

So what will nature’s next warning be?
Volcano, earthquake or flood?
Who is to say, only Mother Earth knows
The way the tide of fortune flows
Be it towards golden sands or blood

 

 

***
Copyright © Rainbow

 
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Posted by on Friday 5 June 2015 in General, Poems

 

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A Tale of Three Heroes: Chapter Two

Note: this is a first draft. The only editting done is for typos/spelling errors.
***

 

 

Breakfast in the royal castle was usually a peaceful affair. The prince and princess, both being teenagers, rarely put in an appearance before eleven, which meant it was just king Henry and his wife. Henry spent the meal buried in the morning post, whil Merlina was content to enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted.
    This morning however, she was shaken out of her revery as the king suddenly choked on his coffee, sending a good amount of it spraying across the table.
    “I don’t believe it! Is there nothing the buggers won’t stoop to?”
    Merlina sighed.
    “What have they done this time?”
    “They’ve only gone and burnt down an entire neighbourhood,” said Henry, wiping coffee off the remaining letters. “Well, when they were caught they said they’d only meant to torch the one house, but it got out of hand. As if that makes it all right.” He glared at the offending parchment. “Did they say why they’ve started burning down property?” Merlina asked.
    “Unsurprisingly, no. But I’d bet anything it was meant to look like an accident. It was one of those neighbourhoods tagged for ‘development’. You know the story. Whoops, there goes your home, what a shame. You may as well sell up now.”
    He gave the leter one final glower before tossing it onto the ‘read’ pile.
    “Those heroes had better get here soon.”

 

“Come on, the coach driver won’t hang around forever.”
    “Coming, coming. Just looking for my crossbow bolts.”
    LD sighed impatiently. It was always the same. Every single mission started with Angel searching frantically for one last essential supply. If it wasn’t weaponry, then her food for the journey went walk about. On one memorable occasion she had even managed to mislay her entire uniform, boots, cape and all.
    The sound of hooves made her turn back to the road again, where the coach was just setting off, with Tommy running desperately after it. At the same moment a cry of “got it!” from inside the house announced that the missing bolts had surfaced. “Come on,” urged LD again. Angel slung her knapsack on her back, slammed the door and stuffed the keys into their hiding place, before sprinting after LD towards the disappearing coach.
    From the bushes a figure watched the two girls racing down the road. He shrugged. It beat him what they were so scared about. They seemed like a bunch of hopeless amateurs to him. The one who lived here hadn’t even grasped basic security. Anyone who had spotted her ‘hiding’ the keys only had to stroll up and fish them out.
    Which is exactly what he intended doing. After all, it was much easier than breaking in. He stood up and checked one last time that he had all the boobie traps. Even if they were lucky enough to succeed, he’d make sure that this one at least would not do so again. Pausing only to make sure the coast was clear, the intruder made his way over to the garden gnome where the keys had been so clumsily hidden and reached down.
    Birds flew up in panic as a gigantic explosion rent the air. Slowly, the smoke cleared, leaving nothing but a crater and, presumably, and aweful lot of paperwork for someone. Looking stupid is not always the same as being stupid.

 

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Posted by on Tuesday 2 June 2015 in Fantasy, First Draft, Humour, Novel length

 

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