April 2019 -- 75 Word Story Challenge -- VICTORY TO TERESA EDGERTON!

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Luiglin

Getting worse one day at a time
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Mar 22, 2012
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RULES:

Write a story inspired by the chosen theme and genre in no more than 75 words, not including the title.

ONE entry per person.

NO links, commentary or extraneous material in the posts, please -- the stories must stand on their own.

WHEN WRITING YOUR STORY, PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS A FAMILY-FRIENDLY FORUM.


All stories Copyright 2019 by their respective authors who grant the Chronicles Network the non-exclusive right to publish them here.

The complete rules can be found at
RULES FOR THE WRITING CHALLENGES.
  • Contest ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 23 April 2019
  • Voting ends at 11:59 pm GMT, 28 April 2019
You do not have to submit a story in order to vote -- in fact, we encourage all Chrons members to take part in choosing a winner :)

The Magnificent Prize:

The Dignified Congratulations/Grovelling Admiration of Your Peers and the challenge of choosing next month's theme and genre.

Theme:

Structure

Genre:

Gothic (and any of its sub-genres)

Note:

This thread to be used for entries only. Please keep all comments to the DISCUSSION THREAD.

We invite (and indeed hope for) lively discussion and speculation about the stories as they are posted, as long as it doesn't involve the author explaining the plot.

** Please do not use the "Like" button in this thread! **
 
The Family Must Survive

"Last time I saw Julia? This morning. Coming down from her bedroom, on the first flight of stairs.

“What, Detective? No... I didn’t push her. Yeah, I know you found the knife in her room. Yes, I’m sure she killed daddy.

“Who killed her? She did. She had to. Just like she had to kill daddy.

“Why? We needed the insurance money. We have nowhere else to go, Detective. Julia understood the importance of family.”
 
From That Room a Ruin

Build your life one room at a time, they’d been toasted on their wedding night.
First built was their house’s bedroom. Newlyweds newly met weeks before, they shared intimacies and pet cooings, imagining mutual veneration.

When wedded strangers become familiar, spitefulness often blossoms. Slights in the library crafted a room of sorrow, sunroom insults one of anger; then others, constructed with the architecture of discordance.

The living haunt such places, passing in corridors, unspeaking, unloved.
 
I would do anything

She stumbles through the dripping trees and spots a glow. Through the night mists she draws near and sees the mansion, it's arched windows throwing light.

She breathlessly enters and a host of candles flicker, in the shadows is a….. ‘FREEZE


I groaned as the DVD again refused to play past that point.
The world's last surviving Meatloaf video, the museum director would fire me for sure, but Man, what a party we'd had.
 
The Vampire's Demise.

The year is 1560, it is 400 years before I was born. How I got here is an enigma. I was sitting comfortably in my leather chair reminiscing over my fortunes of late.

Now I was standing with a hammer and piece of wood.

In front of me lay the prettiest girl I have ever seen.

The sun rising slowly in the east, the girl's eyes open suddenly I remember what I have to do.
 
The Lady of the Manor

She padded into the bedroom, her bare feet silent on the floor. Settling down on the four poster bed, she stretched out sensuously on the antique lace coverlet. Heavy brocade curtains hung from above, providing privacy for her nightly toilette. As she smoothed her silky coat, the carved posts beckoned. Rising, she reached out and dug in her nails, tearing at the wood. Weapons sharpened, she disappeared into the shadows to find her prey.
 
A Warning to Wanderers

As I approached the ruins of Greymoor Manor, its crumbling stones rendered ghostly in the pale light of a moon nearly hidden behind wind-torn clouds, I noticed the trembling flame of a single candle in a window, high in the shattered watchtower. I knew that nothing living dwelt within, not even the rats that infested the nearby graveyard. Seized with curiosity, I entered the ancient structure, eager to solve this mystery. Alas, I did.
 
Homo desmodus rotundus

Dusk settled. In ancient caves they stirred, as they had for time immemorial.
First one, than another, then a torrent. One twisting organic mass of leathery wings and hungry mouths, disappearing into the heavy evening mist. A cacophony of sound suddenly silent.
Victor remained. Separate from his kin. The involuntary change happened fast. He dropped clumsily to the cave floor and started his weary trudge toward the distant decaying towers. Perhaps tonight he would feed.
 
Whispered sweet nothings

Madness, they say, is chaos. The mind fractures, splits, wars within itself, reality ruptures.

It’s laughable of course.

There is a delicate structure in what learned fools often dismiss as a shattered mind. To build something new, surely you must tear down the old?

It is quite simple. I should know for I see it now.

My cabin, my world, my stars, my infinite. Beyond, the Boundless Sleepers stir.

Quite beautiful, are they not?
 
Bringing Life to a Conversation

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed. The powerful bolt struck the rod atop the tower. Electricity crackled down the cabling and fed through the mechanisms into the body lay upon the bed.........

"Can you hear me?"
"Uurrghhhh"
"Can you see me?"
"Uurrghhh"
"Can you lift your arms?"
"Uurrghhhh"
"Can you bend your legs?"
"Uurrghhhh"
"Ok that's good, the structure of the body seems to be working. It's just the vocal cords I need to fix."

"Uurrghhh"
 
Special Delvery

“Are you two gentleman the company B&H?

“That be us"

“I need you to deliver my master to his new home, he is in the carriage outside. I’ll meet you there”

Will looks inside, “William it’s a coffin.”

“Will, let’s take it to Dr Victor, he’s after a fresh body”

At Dr Victor's.

“You idiots what have you done?”

Coffin slowly opens.

“Victor you've decided to join me in eternal life ”

“Vladd... nooo"
 
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recens oculi

A spire, black against the moonlight. Torchlight flickers off rose windows, then dies. Dark pillars reach towards me, high stone arches gape and... moan? Loneliness and fear pervades. I cry. It has me.

I gently tickle a rib vault, stroke a flying buttress. Stone shudders, giggling?

There’s a blinding, electric light.

“Built 1486, ‘bin empty since the Parish left in 1991,” The agent murmurs, “A lovely home with a bit a’ work.”

“I’ll take it.”
 
The Transformation House

I crawl through the dark hallway, legs dragging, blood dripping. Screams issue from a dozen rooms.

The bones in my body snap apart, twisting, growing.

Chains drag against floors. Something howls upstairs.

I cry out as my spine cracks and twists, bones restructuring.

A man blocks the front door, body arched in a question mark. A single beam of moonlight sparkles off something in his hands.

My vision goes red.

I stand up, snarling.
 
It Contains Legions

Theodora fled through endless corridors. She glanced back, flickering plasma illuminated no pursuer. Had she escaped?

The robot burst through the bulkhead, its impossible strength demolishing the structure. It opened its arms.

“Oh my darling, come here,” said a feminine voice.

“Mother?” They embraced. The voice changed. Became cruel, masculine.

“Now you are mine.”

Theodora swooned over its shoulder. Then, unseen, slipped a spanner from her sleeve.

“Haunted robot, my foot. I’ll fix you.”
 
An Uncanny FOMO

Again, she returned to the moonlit study,
She coughed politely.
Her tutor's eyelids flickered. “It’s late, Eleanor.”
“I feel like I died...”
The ancient, sleepily: “Your search continues, child?”
“I pleaded with my brother! He just laughed...”
Her auger nodded. “A dire time for one so young.”
“You’ve some insight?”
Dozing now: “Your quest lacks structure… begin again... at your bedside…”
“I will, grandfather.”
In the hallway, from some lost corner, faint birdsong taunted her...
 
Orphans Souls have no Song

Blair hall squatted on a lone hill overlooking the orphanage. Trees surrounding its borders twisted wickedly towards its grim visage, as if bent by some unseen will. It's original foundations remained unblemished, despite the efforts of a Lady named Yennefer (now missing) to bring about its ruin with flame.

Orphans vanished. The shadows surrounding Blair Hall deepened. The townsfolk, cowed by fear, are mute.

No songs are sung for the souls of vanished orphans.
 
Necessity Is The Mother of Invention

As always, Hanz watched with some pleasure as his wife dressed of a morning. But, today, something was new.

“My dear, what do I perceive?”

“Husband, times are that I need a little help, a little support. I have hopes the outcome will delight your eye.”

It did. He was late for his employ.

But he made up for time lost. “It shall be called 'The Flying Buttress',” said Hanz, admiring his new designs.
 
We’ve All Been There”
It was just as the goblets were raised in toast that his indiscretion occurred.

All eyes turned towards him.

He fled in panic down the collapsing stairwell of his psyche, through ancient cobwebs, past sliming walls, hitting the dank flagstones of rock bottom, as the oh-so-carefully constructed edifice of his personality fell about him.

In helpless terror he stared at the contemptuous faces

Eventually a small voice emerged from the detritus.


“S-s-s-sorry”.
 
The Lair of the Fugue

Decomposition, house and mind,
Pointed windows, tall, not bright, segmented,
The music soars, ignores, and pours
Through galleries dark, unfrequented

The song is wrong - humming along,
The tune's simplistic, although rhythm's strong
The organ swells, impells, compels
And cobwebs quiver, melody demented

Dusty, heavy drapes devour
Reverberation on musicians;
Phantasmic minuets empower
Cinematic compositions.

Sunbeaming gloom, dust-moted room
Highlights fireworks impressionistic
Instrumental gloom leaves elbow room
For dialogue, sounds realistic.

Horrific ambience created.
 
The Shadows That Watch

Arthur and Abigail's new house was old and in severe disrepair. It stood empty for many years at the far edge of town.

The old house noises bothered them at first, and the ubiquitous cobwebs. But it was the shadows that got to them.

"They watch us," she said.

On every wall, around every corner, shadows from nonexistent things appeared. Watching them.

"We have to destroy them. Burn them!"

The fire was spectacular.
 
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