Scribble Soup for Writers' Block #23

Do you have a favourite cd? Write a story incorporating as many song titles in the cd as you can.


Elysium for the Brave

In death they lie in endless reverie. Felled by Winter's kiss, they sleep in her eternal embrace. As spring arrives in other worlds, its light will never touch their deathly abode. They meet in secret, the tryst of the battle worn. Their bodies turn from heaven to dust, carried from this life in forty one ways.

I am a stranger in this world, in this divide. For now.

Scribblesoup prompt #23

Sunday Scribblings #139: Winter

In summer I like to think of winter. I imagine all the cold places, like Alaska, Iceland and Antarctica, that I would like to visit. I add them to my list. I give them to my friends and family.
"This is what you can get me for Christmas," I tell them.
"You hate the cold," Boyfriend likes to inform me.
"No I don't."
"Yes you do, every winter you whinge about how cold it is and you refuse to go anywhere."
"This will be different."
"How so?"
"It'll be different."
He laughs, "You can't even stand the winter here, and it rarely drops below 10 °C. You wouldn't survive an Alaskan winter."
I ignore Boyfriend. I stomp into the bedroom. I grab a cardigan from my wardrobe. Boyfriend follows me.
"It's a balmy 25 degrees outside," he informs me (Boyfriend likes to tell me the temperature).
"So I'm cold."
He laughs again.
"I have tropical genes," I tell him imperiously.
He laughs even harder. I imagine a big fat "ex" scrawled on Boyfriend's forehead.

It is 38 °C, another unbearably hot Christmas Eve. I can't move. I'm glued to the leather lounge, held tentatively in place by my sweat. Boyfriend walks into the lounge.
"Here," he says handing me a package.
"For me!" I exclaim, slipping out of my ennui. I hastily tear at the wrapper. Boyfriend has given me a beanie, woollen gloves and a scarf.
He laughs at my unimpessed expression, "Read the card."
I open the card and read,"Let's have a winter wedding in Ireland."

Sundayscribbling prompt

Goth Nerds Inc.

PROLOGUE
It was night, which was not an uncommon habitat for a goth. Jimmy which is an uncommon name for a goth was having breakfast. With his headphones permanently attached to his pale ears (or at least it seemed, for he was never seen without it), Jimmy jerked and spasmed enthusiastically around the kitchen to the musical sounds of Marilyn Manson. Deeply entrenched in the dark rhythms, he failed to notice the sinister pair of eyes watching from the darkness. It waited until Jimmy gave one final show stopping jerk of his pelvis before launching into the air and attaching itself securely onto his pale neck.



CHAPTER 1

It was only 8 am but already the day had turned to shit. It was hot and muggy. The heat from the past few days still lingered in the air and there didn't seem to be any relief anytime soon. The unrelenting heat only added to the tension. Sweat trickled down Ranger's 5'11" frame as he waited for the police to secure the crime scene. He turned to look at his partner Raven and wondered how she always managed to look fresh in all her black leather, while he sweated like a pig. At least the sweat offered some relief from the heat.

"Time to go in," Raven said with a grim smile, pulling on a pair of laced trimmed black latex gloves.
Ranger grabbed his tool kit from the back of the 4WD and followed Raven past the crime scene tape and into the house. The first thing he noticed was the smell. The air was thick with the ammonic smell of urine mixed with the undertones of neglect only associated with bachelor households.
"Where's the body?" he asked.
"Just follow the black rain," answered Raven, pointing to the ceiling space above him.
"Shit! It's raining leeches."
"Yeah, it's raining Quaesitobdella bilineata."
"Quasi what?"
"Quaesitobdella bilineata. See how they all have yellow medial stripes," Raven answered bending down to retrieve a speciman jar from her kit.
"Let's get started. We have to clear the area before they can take him down," she added, moving decisively towards the mass of crawling leeches.

Ranger hesitated for a brief moment before following suit. The whole scene looked surreal. It was almost like the world had turned upside down. Jimmy Palin's pale limp body lay spread eagled, except instead of being on the floor it was stuck to the ceiling. From his face and torso the leeches moved in a synchronised periscopic wave of black and yellow. They covered him like a living jacket, and one by one, they detached themselves and fell like black rain to the floor.

An hour later Raven peeled off her latex gloves and threw them into the bin.
"I think that's all of them,"
With all the leeches safely seeled in the jars, they now had an unobstructed view. Jimmy's vacant hazel eyes stared down at them, while the muscles of his mouth, twisted in a permanent scream.
"There's no smell of decomp, do you think he's still alive?" Ranger asked sniffing the air.
"Only one way to find out," one of the medics commented, as one by one the medical crew pushed passed Ranger. Together they formed a semi-circle, creating a human barrier that effectively blocked any further investigation. With their backs to the pair, they discussed the best ways to remove the body.
"I guess that's our cue," Raven said, moving towards the door.


"Do you think he's still alive?" Ranger repeated as he followed her to the car.
"Did you notice anything strange about the body?" Raven asked, ignoring Ranger's question.
"You mean how the body was stuck to the ceiling?"
"That and the fact that we didn't see any blood. When a leech bites you, you usually bleed. There was no blood, Ranger. On the otherhand, leeches love fresh kills..."

Scribble soup for Writers' Block #24: Scrabble words

Your starting word is "meet"...Your first sentence must contain "meet"... For the next sentence, change one letter in meet eg. feet....Your second sentence must contain this word...etc...

They were destined to meet. The hunter stalking silently through the woods for tender meat. Crouching in the shadows, hidden from the heat of the sun, he watches. On feet so silent that even the keenest ears cannot hear, he inches towards his prey. He pounces, his heart beating in joy at the fear reflected in her eyes. His sharp teeth tear and chew. He growls in delight, this is his first fresh kill for the year. From behind the bushes, the other silent hunter takes aim and shoots the bear. As his friends look on, beer in hand the hunter poses next to his fallen trophies. The deer and the bear.

Dang this was a hard one...

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Interlude

Interlude

Back at base camp, Ranger took a grateful swallow from his thermos mug. The coffee was cold, but he didn't care. It was strong and for now, it was exactly what he needed. Ignoring the exhausted chatter around him, he walked to the edge of the clearing. Wearily massaging the back of his neck, Ranger surveyed the rugged terrain before him. It was a deceptively beautiful place. In the distance he could hear the helicopter approaching. It was time to go home.

Three days ago a young bushwalker had wandered away from his group and disappeared. While anxious friends and family waited, the search and rescue teams had combed the dense bushland. Two hours ago the coded messaged had come through from the command post.
"The bottle is broken."
The lost bushwalker had been found.
Dead.

Sunday Scribblings #138: Grateful

Grace surveyed her reflection in the mirror.
"Not bad," she said aloud, blowing a playful kiss at her image.
"Not bad indeed," Shay said sticking her head into the room.
"Have you ever heard of knocking first?"
"What and miss all this," Shay answered as Grace pitched a pillow in her general direction.

Outside a horn blared.
"C'mon Miss, our chariot awaits," Shay announced in a fake cockney accent.

"Hurry up, we're going to miss the opening act," a voice called impatiently from the car as the two best friends approached the vehicle.
Shay rolled her eyes dramatically before shouting, "We're coming!"

Reaching the car, Grace paused, trying to work out how to delicately get into the car. The black dress was stunning but it was also tight and very short.
As Grace stood undecided, a voice whispered, "Don't get in the car."
"What did you say?" Grace asked.
"Huh?" Shay answered, sweeping past her. "C'mon, Her Highness is going to be late and under no circumstances is SHE ever late."
Smiling uneasily, Grace prepared to get into the car.
"Don't get in the car," the voice whispered again.
Stepping away from the car, Grace looked around her nervously.
"What's wrong Grace, you look kinda pale?" Shay asked.
"Um, I'm not feeling so well. I'll think I'll just have a quiet night in."
"But we've been planning this night for ages," Twist said from the passenger seat.
"Um, I'm sorry but I don't feel so well," Grace said apologetically, turning away.
Sighing, Shay got out of the car.
"You guys go ahead. I'll stay with her, make sure she's alright."

As the car headlights disappeared around the street corner, Shay remarked, "You know it's kinda insulting how little they protested."
"I'm sorry Shay, I know how much you were looking forward to tonight."
"It's okay. I would of just ended up throwing something at Her Highness anyway."
"C'mon she's not that bad."
"Yeah on her own, but with Twist...uhh," Shay said, faking a shudder. "It's still a mystery to me how we ever became friends in the first place," she added.
"You were young and desperate," Grace teased.
"Nah, just keeping my enemies close by," Shay joked.

At 3 am, Grace awoke to Shay's desparate shaking.
"What's wrong?" Grace asked sleepily.
"It's Twist and Elizabeth...Grace, they're dead," Shay said sobbing.
"What?...How?"
"Accident...car..." Shay managed before her legs buckled beneath her.


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Ashes and Silt ...(Episode vii)

Twilight crept across the horizon, unnoticed by the occupants of the sleepy country town. Ranger, exhausted and desperately missing Raven, was finally on the road and on his way back home. In the past few days, his patience had been tried and tested many times. The environmental management conference had turned into a farce, overrun by the different factions intent on enforcing their own agenda. Mulling over the battles ahead, he almost collided with a lone wombat slowly making its way across the road. Swerving the car, he barely missed the woman standing on the side of the road.

Heart beating a loud tempo in his chest, he climbed out of the 4WD.
"Christ, are you alright."
"I... need... to... go... home," she whispered staring vacantly ahead.
"Hey, it'll be alright. I'll give you a lift," Ranger said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"I...need...to...go...home," she repeated.

The woman was obviously suffering from shock. Her mud stained black dress accentuated her pale face, lending a fragile beauty to the otherwise harsh features. Surveying the isolated landscape and noting that there were no other vehicles in the vicinity, he briefly wondered how she had gotten to this place.

Taking her cold hands in his, he gently guided her into the car.

"I...need...to...go...home."

The soft light of dawn was beginning to creep across the landscape, when with a frustrated sigh, Ranger gave up on the radio dial. Nothing in the car worked, not the radio which had played static for the last thirty minutes nor his mobile phone. Now all he had to listen to was the strange woman who kept repeating the same line. It was starting to creep him out.

Ranger checked the clock again. It wasn't working either. It was still showing 4.30 am. Hearing her gasp, he turned to look at her, before quickly returning his attention back on the road. From out of nowhere a man appeared. Slamming on the brakes, Ranger tried to manoeuvre the car away from the man but it was too late. There was a sickening thud as the car made contact, before skidding out of control. It hit the embankment and flipped on its side rolling five times before coming to a stop.

Time moved slowly. Ranger watched as if from afar, as the car flipped upside down, crushing the roof of the cabin. As the car began to roll, a clump of grass wedged its way in between the opening in the window.

Bothriochloa macra, he thought a little hysterically, correctly identifying the species as the vehicle came to a stop on its side. There was a deafening silence before awareness slowly returned. He looked for his strange passenger but she was nowhere to be seen. He stared nonsensically instead at the single black feather which had buried itself in her seat.

In a half daze, he tried to open the door. Finding it stuck, he climbed out the window instead and staggered around in confusion.

"Are you all right?" a voice called from behind him.
"Yeah, I think so," he replied collapsing to the ground.
"I saw the car roll from up that hill. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah," he replied regaining his feet.

With unsteady steps, Ranger walked around the scene of the accident.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for the man I hit and the woman in the car."
"What man and woman?"
"The man and woman!" Ranger exclaimed as panic set in.

He marched wildly around, looking about him, while the stranger looked on in confusion. There were no trees nearby to hide any bodies.

"Listen mate, the medics and cops will be here soon, so why don't you just sit down and rest for a bit."

Ignoring this advice, Ranger walked back to the car with the man following worriedly behind him. He checked the front of the vehicle. There was mud splattered on the bumper and windscreen.

"Strange, it hasn't rained here in months," the man observed running a finger through the fresh mud.