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http://jc-martin.com/fighterwriter/2011/10/ren3-round-3-prompts-pay-it-forward-blogfest-and-upcoming-book-trailer/
There is the dark born of midnight.
There is the Dark born of souls having consumed themselves.
That Dark is midwife to a never-ending hunger for the souls of others. That Dark resides in Renaissance, a nexus between our world and many others.
Three heroes are all that stand between that Hunger and this world. Listen to the 600 words of one of them, the one who understands that Hunger the most : the Victorian ghoul, Alice Wentworth …
There are sounds only the dead may utter. Secrets only the dead may know. Still I do not comprehend why Victor insisted on walking blithely into this ambush.
Not as the living do the dead see : one moment frozen after another. It is why we are distanced from the hearts of the living.
Except for Victor Standish.
My Victor, of the gypsy laugh and poet’s heart. Our love breaks the chain of reason. But deep in my dry bones, I know that love will one night break my heart … as I eat his.
This frozen moment may spare us that …
I see Renaissance’s mayor thrust Maija into the onrushing hungry soul-echoes.
“Ningyo whore! My father’s race cast yours out of their dimension. Did you think I would ally myself with you? Come, Citizens, feast!”
As Maija tumbles to the floor, he laughs, “All you touch you can drain. All that is water you control. They are ghosts, filth. Now, you die.”
Thunder rumbles as Captain McCord growls, “You first.”
His strange Colt bellows. I clutch my ears as if the sound itself would kill me. I watch as the Mayor grabs his chest. I have never seen the like. With the swirling of an open drain he seems to spin into nothingness.
McCord yells, “Maija, they are echoes of life but life still. They shape themselves from mist. What is mist but ….”
She smiles like a released demon, “Water!”
Even I, who live off the flesh of the living, am sickened by the atrocities she inflicts on the screaming soul-echoes.
Victor laughs, “Boy, you guys picked the wrong dance partners!”
The survivors laugh themselves as they turn to one who appears helpless. My Victor helpless? Never! Not while I stand by his side.
They halt as I flow to them. They thought me ghoul. Fools. Not ghoul. Not ghost. Not revenant. I am unique.
Shaped by my mother’s mishandling of voodoo to make me a zombie, I became Other … when Victor’s mother took me for hers.
My hunger is about to be satisfied. I stiffen as Victor smiles. This is why he walked into certain death … to feed the one he … loves. Tears burn my eyes.
I am loved.
I turn hotly to them and speak words only the dead may hear. “I am not ghoul, leeches. What am I?”
I feel my lips pull up in a Cheshire grin. “I am the far end of the graveyard where the nettles grow. I am the Jester in the Theater of Bone. I AM HELL TO PAY!”
I sweep over them like the Death that took the first-born in Egypt. I flick undead eyes to McCord. He had been speaking to me as well to let me know I could … eat them. So I do.
His strange Colt bellows. Maija laughs hellishly. The soul-echoes scream.
I eat.
Suddenly, ball bearings, washed in the Waterfall of Eden, pepper the air behind me. A blur of movement. I smile. Victor is twirling in what he calls, in his quaint way,
a Full Arabian Cartwheel. He lands lightly behind me as three soul-echoes learn that acupressure can kill the undead.
He laughs like a gypsy. “Alice, you have to watch that lovely … behind of yours.”
I give Victor one of his winks. “Why ever should I do that? You watch it enough for the two of us.”
He smiles wide and kisses me. I wait with dread heart for his lips to flinch from my cold ones. But they do not.
Not even a little.
***
Alice, being a gracious Victorian ghoul, used all 4 prompts in her narration :
•The impending misfortune foreshadowed in the 1st set of prompts comes to pass, but one or more characters laugh at it.
•Betrayal is in the air.
•Relationships unravel or strengthen.
•A long-kept secret is revealed
There is the dark born of midnight.
There is the Dark born of souls having consumed themselves.
That Dark is midwife to a never-ending hunger for the souls of others. That Dark resides in Renaissance, a nexus between our world and many others.
Three heroes are all that stand between that Hunger and this world. Listen to the 600 words of one of them, the one who understands that Hunger the most : the Victorian ghoul, Alice Wentworth …
There are sounds only the dead may utter. Secrets only the dead may know. Still I do not comprehend why Victor insisted on walking blithely into this ambush.
Not as the living do the dead see : one moment frozen after another. It is why we are distanced from the hearts of the living.
Except for Victor Standish.
My Victor, of the gypsy laugh and poet’s heart. Our love breaks the chain of reason. But deep in my dry bones, I know that love will one night break my heart … as I eat his.
This frozen moment may spare us that …
I see Renaissance’s mayor thrust Maija into the onrushing hungry soul-echoes.
“Ningyo whore! My father’s race cast yours out of their dimension. Did you think I would ally myself with you? Come, Citizens, feast!”
As Maija tumbles to the floor, he laughs, “All you touch you can drain. All that is water you control. They are ghosts, filth. Now, you die.”
Thunder rumbles as Captain McCord growls, “You first.”
His strange Colt bellows. I clutch my ears as if the sound itself would kill me. I watch as the Mayor grabs his chest. I have never seen the like. With the swirling of an open drain he seems to spin into nothingness.
McCord yells, “Maija, they are echoes of life but life still. They shape themselves from mist. What is mist but ….”
She smiles like a released demon, “Water!”
Even I, who live off the flesh of the living, am sickened by the atrocities she inflicts on the screaming soul-echoes.
Victor laughs, “Boy, you guys picked the wrong dance partners!”
The survivors laugh themselves as they turn to one who appears helpless. My Victor helpless? Never! Not while I stand by his side.
They halt as I flow to them. They thought me ghoul. Fools. Not ghoul. Not ghost. Not revenant. I am unique.
Shaped by my mother’s mishandling of voodoo to make me a zombie, I became Other … when Victor’s mother took me for hers.
My hunger is about to be satisfied. I stiffen as Victor smiles. This is why he walked into certain death … to feed the one he … loves. Tears burn my eyes.
I am loved.
I turn hotly to them and speak words only the dead may hear. “I am not ghoul, leeches. What am I?”
I feel my lips pull up in a Cheshire grin. “I am the far end of the graveyard where the nettles grow. I am the Jester in the Theater of Bone. I AM HELL TO PAY!”
I sweep over them like the Death that took the first-born in Egypt. I flick undead eyes to McCord. He had been speaking to me as well to let me know I could … eat them. So I do.
His strange Colt bellows. Maija laughs hellishly. The soul-echoes scream.
I eat.
Suddenly, ball bearings, washed in the Waterfall of Eden, pepper the air behind me. A blur of movement. I smile. Victor is twirling in what he calls, in his quaint way,
a Full Arabian Cartwheel. He lands lightly behind me as three soul-echoes learn that acupressure can kill the undead.
He laughs like a gypsy. “Alice, you have to watch that lovely … behind of yours.”
I give Victor one of his winks. “Why ever should I do that? You watch it enough for the two of us.”
He smiles wide and kisses me. I wait with dread heart for his lips to flinch from my cold ones. But they do not.
Not even a little.
***
Alice, being a gracious Victorian ghoul, used all 4 prompts in her narration :
•The impending misfortune foreshadowed in the 1st set of prompts comes to pass, but one or more characters laugh at it.
•Betrayal is in the air.
•Relationships unravel or strengthen.
•A long-kept secret is revealed
***
Alice's is a very unique viewpoint - I like how we get to see her world! What will happen in the finale?
ReplyDeleteThanks, JennaQuentin :
ReplyDeleteAlice certainly has a unique view of the world of the living. She has rubbed shoulders with the like of Abraham Lincoln, Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, Dr. Josef Mengele, Al Capone.
In the finale, we see the one person who is talked of in McCord's world but never seen.
Fabulous, yet again, Roland! I have a 'Doc Holiday' vibe (of the Val Kilmer variety) with Victor and as for Alice...she reminds me of Holiday's companion in the movie "Tombstone". Doesn't he refer to her as a devil at one point in the film? Anyhow..I thought you may get a kick out of hearing how your story looks in the 'film version' playing in my mind. Ha!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Nadja!
ReplyDeleteAlice is groaning. Now, you've given Victor a swell head.
He's going around muttering in the worst Val Kilmer accent heard by the living or the undead, "I'm your huckleberry."
Sam merely chuckles doing an excellent one, "It's just life."
Wasn't TOMBSTONE a great film? I'm going to have to watch it again now! Thanks for visiting and staying to chat. Roland
Aw that is so sweet! Yours is definitely one of my favorite entries. :-)
ReplyDeleteMisha :
ReplyDeleteAm I brave or what? In horror tales, I dare to be ... sweet and romantic. I think it makes the horror more pronounced by comparison. I'm really happy you find this snippet one of your favorites, Roland
Now that's love! Disturbing and haunting entry, excellent as always!
ReplyDeleteI'm developing quite soft spot for Alice :-)
ReplyDeleteMaking my rounds of the 3rd week entries :-) I'm glad he didn't flinch.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Li :
ReplyDeleteIt is nearly midnight, and I am still at work, and this is the first chance I've had to sit down, much less log on the computer. I guess perhaps I am too busy to continue blogging. Sigh, Roland
Heather :
ReplyDeleteDisturbing and haunting -- that's the word for Alice's and Victor's love all right. Thanks for the praise. After an exhausting 300 mile 11 hour day, I needed it!
Sarah :
I have a soft spot for Alice as well. I'm a romantic at heart -- which I hope to keep in my chest and not in Alice's fingers! LOL.
Now that was an awesome installment! "I am hell to pay!" Love it! Excellent voice throughout. Can't wait to see how you wrap up this tale! :)
ReplyDeleteAwww, love that kiss at the end. Also these lines "My Victor, of the gypsy laugh and poet’s heart. Our love breaks the chain of reason. But deep in my dry bones, I know that love will one night break my heart … as I eat his."
ReplyDeleteDavid :
ReplyDeleteA bit ill this morning, and your comment made it so much better. Thinking Alice's thoughts is a challenge. I'm glad you enjoyed her "voice." As for the last installment, the betrayals and revealed secrets and danger are not quite over.
BornStoryTeller :
My Renaissance has some corners you should only visit with Sam, Victor, and Alice! Week Four ends with a flourish and a promise of a new quest.
Deniz :
Yeah, I am a romantic at heart. As is Victor ... which puts it in danger of being on the menu for Alice!
Three times Alice comes close to feasting on Victor in THE LEGEND OF VICTOR STANDISH. But when did young love ever run smoothly! LOL.
Hmm an interesting contrast of voices. Your story rocks the senses of the reader
ReplyDeletecame over from Lady Knight
Unknown :
ReplyDeleteYour own entry is truly absorbing. I would hate to be the judges. Luckily, like Victor, I race for the thrill of it not the prize! Thanks for visiting and chatting, Roland
I'm sorry I'm just getting to this now, but it was well worth the wait. Especially since I won't have to wait too long for the conclusion of this tale.
ReplyDeleteJoshua :
ReplyDeleteGlad you cared to come at all. Thanks. As for the finale ... things are never what they seem in Renaissance ... and you never know who has been watching!
My 10 hour days and first call most nights for the blood center for which I work keeps me from visiting my friends as often as I would want, Roland