Thursday, November 17, 2011
Flash Fearsday
Flash Fearsday is a microfiction challenge: write a horror story in 140 characters or less. If you feel that is too limiting, you can try for 140 words. Flash Fearsday was started at Porky's Expanse!; however, Porky was unable to continue hosting it, at which point it moved here. What will you create for the challenge?
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Flash Fearsday: Finally, It's On Time!
Flash Fearsday is a microfiction challenge: write a horror story in 140 characters or less. If you feel that is too limiting, you can try for 140 words. Flash Fearsday was started at Porky's Expanse!; however, Porky was unable to continue hosting it, at which point it moved here. What will you create for the challenge?
Friday, November 4, 2011
Flash Fearsday: Getting Closer to Thursday Every Week
Flash Fearsday is a microfiction challenge: write a horror story in 140 characters or less. If you feel that is too limiting, you can try for 140 words. Flash Fearsday was started at Porky's Expanse!; however, Porky was unable to continue hosting it, at which point it moved here. What will you create for the challenge?
The Greenhouse: The Dryad's Tomb
This was originally for "How does your garden grow", over on Porky's Expanse, but I've decided that, as it was getting too long anyway, and I need something to do over here, I'm going to make an at least semi-regular series on here, detailing one place, or possibly more. So, without further ado, here's the first room in The Greenhouse to be written up:
In the antechamber before the garden, upon a stone platform directly in front of the doors, lies the body of a woman, once beautiful, but now scarred, as though horribly burned, and apparently undecaying. She wears a green dress, and is covered from the waist down by a crimson and gold shroud, which is folded back, and would cover her completely were it not.
The copper doors are twice the height of a tall man, and bear a bas-relief of a woman, who could be the one upon the platform, though as her form is unmarred in them, it is difficult to be certain.
Just beyond, in the garden itself, is an oak tree, once great, but now split and charred by fire. Though it is clearly dead, the leaves remain upon it, and nothing has claimed the spaces inside as would usually happen, nor is it rotting.
In the antechamber before the garden, upon a stone platform directly in front of the doors, lies the body of a woman, once beautiful, but now scarred, as though horribly burned, and apparently undecaying. She wears a green dress, and is covered from the waist down by a crimson and gold shroud, which is folded back, and would cover her completely were it not.
The copper doors are twice the height of a tall man, and bear a bas-relief of a woman, who could be the one upon the platform, though as her form is unmarred in them, it is difficult to be certain.
Just beyond, in the garden itself, is an oak tree, once great, but now split and charred by fire. Though it is clearly dead, the leaves remain upon it, and nothing has claimed the spaces inside as would usually happen, nor is it rotting.
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