Inner Conflict – Extended Version

Yesterday I posted Inner Conflict edited to meet the challenge requirements. However, what I wrote during my first sitting was much longer, twice as long, with a word count around 500 words. Reading the story again, I find I prefer the longer version. This version finished at 456 words. Let me know what you think.

the_fallen_cherub_by_charllieearts_dd0j9ye-fullview.

The Fallen Cherub by CharllieeArts, source

Nervous, and unsure, I took stock of my surroundings. Crouched behind the building’s jutting column, hidden from view, I accessed the alien version of my beloved city. Cold, stark and silent they had transported me into a hidden world. It was the world that lay between reality and dreams.

In the street to my right, stood a glorious black angel his wing unfurled. Exuding confidence, power, and determination he faced his opponent. To my left stood a monster straight from my nightmares, hideous and menacing I knew he meant to win this battle.

“Why don’t you run from me?” the monster growled.

“You think I should fear you?” the angel sneered, chuckling softly.

“You know who I am, my reputation. I am deadly. I hold life in my hands.”

The angel laughed, slapping his hand on his thigh, “I should cower under the bed, hiding the way you do? You kid no one, everyone knows you evaporate with the light.”

They circled, searching for a weakness, an opportunity to strike.

“But she hears me. My words echo in her mind long after I have gone,” the monster said as he licked his lips.

“Your words fall apart once removed from the dark,” a fireball gleamed, as it erupted from the angel’s chest.

The monster saw his opening, rearing back he lunged at the angel who sidestepped the assault, using his wings the way a matador uses his cape with a charging bull. As the monster passed, the angel let the fireball fly. It grazed the monster’s shoulder, and he whirled, swiping at angel feet, toppling him to the ground.

The two rolled in the street as I watched in horrified fascination, unable to turn away.

“Submit, you dishonored beast, you will not gain your redemption with her salvation,” the monster howled as he gained the advantage.

“No matter the cost, I will not let you win,” the angel roared as another fireball propelled the monster back.

The struggle continued, both evenly matched, and I watched them bruised and bleeding, determined to fight to the death.

At last, I could stand it no more, the self-mutilation of my fallen cherub and my noble monster and stepped from my hiding place in the dark.

“Enough,” I screamed, and two sets of eyes met mine.

“Neither of you will win, and we all will die. The truth is the decision is mine.”

I paused. They waited, eager to hear my next words.

“Get up. Compose yourselves.” Confused they complied.

“We must learn to live together,” I said. “We are two sides of the same coin, and neither side is fully right nor fully wrong.”

Sheepish expressions met my gaze, and I knew we would live to fight another day.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Inner Conflict – #MenageMonday!

Title: Inner Conflict
Source: #MenageMonday! Challenge Week 2×22
Word count: 250 words

the_fallen_cherub_by_charllieearts_dd0j9ye-fullview.

The Fallen Cherub by CharllieeArts, source

Crouched behind the building’s jutting column, I accessed the alien landscape. Cold, stark and silent they had transported me into a hidden world. We were trapped between reality and dreams.

In the street, stood a glorious black angel his wing unfurled, confronting a monster straight from my nightmares.

“Why don’t you run?” the monster growled.

“I should fear you?” the angel sneered.

“You know my reputation.  I hold life in my hands.”

They circled, searching for a weakness, an opportunity to strike.

“My words echo in her mind long after I have gone,” the monster said licking his lips.

“Your words fall apart once removed from the dark,” a fireball erupted from the angel as he spoke and hurled toward the monster.

The monster saw his opening, rearing back he lunged at the angel. They rolled in the street and I watched in horrified fascination.

“Submit, dishonored beast, you won’t gain your redemption with her salvation,” the monster howled.

“I won’t let you win,” the angel roared as another fireball propelled the monster back.

I couldn’t stand the self-mutilation of my fallen cherub and my noble monster. I stepped from my hiding place and screamed.

“Enough. Neither of you will win, and we all will die. The decision is mine. We must learn to live together,” I said. “We are two sides of the same coin, and neither side is fully right nor fully wrong.”

Sheepish expressions met my gaze, and I knew we would live to fight another day.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Like A Stone – Thursday photo prompt

Title: Like A Stone
Source:  Thursday photo prompt: Timeless #writephoto
Word count: 156 words

the image shows a single standing stone in a winter landscape

The silent men, in long brown robes, welcomed Chantal into the cold stone house. Slow shuffling feet wore hollow indentions into unyielding stone. The stones bore testament to their devotion.  They offered her wine and bread, promising her a life everlasting, saying they knew the way.

She learned to read, turned the pages of a book filled with death. To redeem her pagan soul, she offered prayers to gods and angels. With her eyes opened, she felt lost, suffered guilt, and the cold stone house filled her with hopelessness they ground into despair. Sinking low, prostrate with grief, Chantal discovered the last ember hidden in the desolate grotto of her heart.

The spark spoke to her, reminded her of another time. She followed the light to the forgotten time, trusting a voice which promised nothing. There amid the vast emptiness, another stone stood bearing testament.

Chantal stood, tall and unafraid. Confident, she knew her way.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Reaching the Beginning – Stock Photo Challenge

Title: Reaching the Beginning
Source: Stock Photo Challenge
Word count: 100 words

stock-photo-1

stock-photo-1

Destia perched on the wagon seat, confident today would be the same as the string of days behind her. The sameness of her existence stretched into the depths of her memory. The slow, rhythmic steps of the oxen dragged her creaking wagon forward.

Her companion’s faces wore the same expression as the landscape. They knew returning was non-negotiable.

Pero, keeping pace with the oxen, stopped. Alert, his nose tested the wind, then he ran, racing toward the purple smudge on the horizon. The oxen moved faster.

Relief sweep through Destia, but the voice laughed, saying the real journey was beginning.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Loves Legend – 100 Word Wednesday

Title: Loves Legend
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 109
Word count: 100 words

Image by Bikurgurl

The legend said their love would last while their initials remained on the Lovers Tree.

Nick carved his initials deep into the bark. His knife traced her initials again. He wasn’t taking any chances.

She hadn’t noticed him, but he had waited, been there for her, loved her. He hadn’t dared to dream, hadn’t imagined she would be his or declare her love.

She swore Todd meant nothing after he broke her heart. But Nick saw the way she looked at Todd when she thought he wasn’t looking.

He gouged the letters deeper and prayed for Todd’s initials to fade.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Tradition Inherited – Friday Fictioneers

Title: Tradition Inherited
Source:  Friday Fictioneers sponsored by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple
Word count: 100 words

six-gold-tipped-roses-in-a-vase-on-a-table

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Anna didn’t remember ever hearing the story of how it started. As a child, she thought it a silly tradition. They insisted they attend every family gathering. But the years passed, and she now found herself installed as the de facto caretaker.

She sat and stared at the six gold-rimmed glass roses. One for each child. The white rose, the diamond, represented the oldest child, her mother.

After grandma passed the bouquet became mother’s inheritance, her duty to keep them together.

Anna’s finger traced the gold outline of a white petal and feared she would never fill her mother’s shoes.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Invocations – #MenageMonday!

Title: Invocations
Source:  #MenageMonday! Challenge Week 2×21
Word count: 250 words

red-votive-candels-burning-

Source: Dreamstime

Breathless, Sandu entered the sanctuary, slamming the door behind her. Staggering forward, her trembling hand grasped the taper, and she closed her eyes while she recited the invocation, then lit a candle. Safe now, she replaced the taper and entered the nave. Silent gods greeted her, easing her tension.

A commotion behind the alter snapped her back to high alert, as the monster materialized, stumbling toward her. Its weapon aimed at her chest, it paused at the end of the aisle.

The hideous beast flickered, phasing between two forms. Its tortured scream echoed in the nave’s vastness and Sandu recognized Doron’s contorted face as he fought to control the monster.

“Sandu. Help me,” his voice, half monster, half Doron, growled at her.

Sandu ran to him, grabbing the weapon, she tossed it behind her. Doron collapsed against her, his weight dragging them to the floor. She cradled Doron as the visage of the monster seeped away.

“They must be rescued.”

“From the Kalaraja? That’s impossible,” she said.

“No, Sandu. There is a way. I’m proof.”

“Proof? Doron?” Sandu’s voice trailed off, refusing to say what they both knew. Doron clutched her hand gripping it with all his remaining strength and stared at her.

“It’s in you,” he said as his grip weakened, “You can help me escape.”

Sandu lowered her head, begging the gods to save him. Words she had never heard collected in her throat and flowed from her lips. The sanctuary glowed crimson, flickering gold, and Doron smiled.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

The Reward – 100 Word Wednesday

Title: The Reward
Source:  100 Word Wednesday: Week 107
Word count: 100 words

Photo by Bikurgurl

Allie shifted, tired of waiting and watching she rubbed her neck and surveyed her immediate area. Maybe the intelligence was wrong. She glanced at her wrist then refocused her sights to the bridge’s far end. Fifteen minutes past the appointed time stretched to half past the hour.

“Any movement?” the voice in her ear ask.

“Negative,” she whispered.

“Should we abort?”

Stifling a groan, she felt the muscle in her temple throbbed.

“Negative. Hold your position.”

Another half hour passed, but still, Allie waited.

A flash from the far end of the bridge set Allie’s pulse racing. They had escaped.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer

Nothing But Love, Babe – Thursday Threads

four-women-siting-on-a-NYC-park-bench

Photo by Chris Murray on Unsplash

Jeremy heard the doctor’s question. Shifting in his chair, he stared outside. Water trickled and dripped from the icicles clinging to the eaves. Drip, drip, drip. Each drop marking time with his heartbeat, frozen and somehow still alive.

“Jeremy?” her soft voice prodded.

He looked into her doe brown eyes and remembered Meghan’s eyes. His heart constricted, he felt panic and gasped.

“Easy. Breathe slowly,” she instructed.

He closed his eyes, steadied his breath.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“I don’t know what to feel.  I mean, how would you feel?” Jeremy glared at her.

She said nothing, waiting.

“You come home early and find rose petals leading to the bedroom. You open the door, thinking she will be there in a sexy negligee. She’s there all right. But she’s not alone.”

Jeremy paused, covering his face with his bandaged hand.

“Go on,” she coaxed.

“I never suspected. They weren’t supposed to know.” Jeremy scrubbed away his tears, “I was so careful. I had a system, a good system. They shouldn’t have found out. I don’t know how they did.”

“But they did?” the doctor pushed.

“They said they loved me. How could they hurt me like this?”

“We found Margot,” she said. Jeremy’s shoulders slumped.

“And Martha, and Madeline,” she said as she walked to the door.

“We also know about Mariah and Makenzie,” the doctor paused, letting the names sink in.

“Perhaps, you got off easy,” she finished.

Jeremey listened as she shut and locked the door.

__________________________________________

Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer