
Sinners Will Suffer
Bile and bilge water swished in her stomach. The Trier sternly brewed her next drug while glancing anxiously at her.
Knowing how little time he had, he could not afford to make mistakes. Tomorrow was All Hallows’ Eve and the wrongdoer must pay!
Lighting a candle, he administered her drug.
A blankness was hers; she was void of memory even of being. Her state was between this world and that. She neither recalled her own name nor her age.
Consternation brimmed over The Trier; he must not fail! Failure was not a choice! He must bring forth stronger powers.
The stars, mists, and animal cries told him it was midnight, so he led her away. A tornado brewed. Broken branches, torn leaves and blood-thirsty brambles tore around them. Nothing harmed them; neither the maelstrom of debris nor the creatures of the night.
Further they walked. Around a broken rotted tree stump, there was a ring of anemic fungi resembling dead men’s skulls. Careful not to enter into the ring, he gently pushed her towards the stump.
Removing his hood, staring at the Halloween moon, The Trier began an incantation under his breath. Each word became louder as the fungi skulls gradually rose. Intent on the incantation, The Trier was in a semi-conscious state with eyes and arms raised.
Suddenly he was shoved into the vortex surrounded by skull fungi. With a wretched cry he was swallowed up by Mother Earth, who sighed knowing the sacrificer had become the sacrificed.
Confused, Seana stood outside the ring of fungi, now rotting on the ground. Her memory was hazy, her stomach slowly settling. Had she been hurled and knocked into someone or something?
Seana remembered little of her ordeal. Was she waylaid on the way back from healing her cousin? She loathed the rumours that she was only there to flirt and have intimacies – whatever that meant- with her cousin’s handsome but rakish husband. When would the superstitious realize she was no more than a gentle herbalist?
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleWonderfully imaginative and suspenseful tale!
Miss Shelly, this flash fiction began with someone referring to the large whitish fungi in my Dad’s garden as “dead men’s skulls.” After humming and harring, changing the plot, and the female protagonist’s role and so much more over a few days, this flash fiction brewed out of a eerie comparison. Thank you for your comment; I am delighted you found the story Hitchcockian!
Margarida, this is a unique story. I love the “anemic fungi resembling dead men’s skulls” – so descriptive and so shivery. I’m assuming you took the picture in your Dad’s garden? What a great story for Halloween.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleThank you for your kind words Julie; I am trying to show rather than tell in my writing. These strange fungi were indeed photographed in my Dad’s garden. The rotted tree stump and tough brambles are also features. Funny how certain words resonant with us! Pity is I have to sell my childhood home and return to Texas. Meanwhile I am using the leafless trees, old red bricks, jumble of sheds and… Read more »
I feel so sad about you selling your childhood home. It sounds like a wonderful place. Be sure and take many many pictures, and share them with us later. And of course the gardens and grounds will inspire many wonderful new stories. Enjoy your time there and have a safe trip back to Texas!
Your story is full of suspense, and the picture I imagined is so pretty scary. I love it, Margarida.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleThanks for your compliments, Miss Lotchie. Surprisingly enough these fungi look like skulls so provided great eerie writing material!
You’re welcome, Margarida.
I enjoyed reading the spooky Halloween story, Margarida. Good job!
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleMany thanks Dipayan! So glad you enjoyed reading the story. I was debating whether to write another funny story or a scary supernatural one. Sometimes stories lead the author, and develop seemingly on their own, though!