EXERCISE Picture challenge #28: In the dark

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by redblood, Jun 28, 2015.

  1. INFO: They say that a picture can tell a thousand words. How many can you find?

    Each week a new image will be posted, and your challenge will be to write whatever the image inspires you to write. It can be anything as long as it relates to the picture. A plot, a scene, a short story, a poem, a character, etc. You can write as much or as little as you wish. It's not the length that matters, it's what you put into it. There is no time limit to these challenges, so feel free to jump in at any time.


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  2. He whispered in the dark. "Who goes there!" I yelled blinded by the darkness that had been. I flipped the switch and walked down my long narrow hallway...making creeks and crackles. The wind blew a tree to tap the glass and i stopped in panic. But for some reason the floor kept creaking even without my bail old feet walking on it. The wall carried a thump as if a body had been thrown directly at it. I could feel it in my heart and in the vibration that shook the house. I spoke again clearing my throat "C'mon now Albert..." I walked toward the room taking a cross out of my gown that room was dedicated to my dog for I am lonely at be, good company he is... I opened his room ,and opened my eyes for I hadn't done so in sixty years. but to my surprise to not find him there....not him but me...an old previous me..me when i was young. It spoke only few handing from my ceiling "I have failed you as ...you have failed I...we watch.." I saw this and froze in fear as my last breathe had spoke back "You are Albert...."
     
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  3. "John."

    "Yes, Dad?"

    "For the last time, you are NOT Spider-man, dammit!"

    "B-but-but, mom said I could be anything!"

    "Mom... Lied." *Dun dun dun ominous music*

    "NUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!111oneoneone"
     
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  4. Paranoia lurks at the corners,
    Tugs at the sides of your mind.
    You call yourself a higher breed,
    A detector of those you can't find.

    You say they're really there,
    That they're lurking in the room.
    You say they're still inside,
    Pattering in the gloom.

    You swung open the doors,
    Peered inside then cried.
    "Did it ever occur to you,
    That they may just go hide?"

    I say it's all inside your head,
    You need to go to sleep.
    There is no monster in your room,
    Nothing hiding in the deep.
     
  5. The priest had come and gone, saying he found no evidence of demonic activity int he house. I was relieved, but I still carried the thick cross around with me at all times. It never hurt to be prepared.He might not have found any evidence, but he'd never spent the night here. Darkness seemed to stir whatever lived there with her.

    She did feel better with the cross that the priest had blessed in her hand as she prepared to go to bed for the night. She turned off the lights in the living room and went out into the hall, but she had the strangest feeling of being watched, so she turned back into the room and peered in. She shook her head though, seeing nothing.

    "Don't let your imagination run away with you Ginnie..."

    "Why not?" came the faint reply from the darkened living room.

    "Who said that?"

    "I did."

    "Who are you?"

    "The boy who died here many years ago. I'm glad you can hear me now. So you believe I am here. I've been lonely. The house was empty a long time before you came."

    "Wait...you died...here."

    "I did. But not in any sinister way. I got sick and died. It happened in the blue room next to the one you sleep in."

    He didn't sound threatening or evil, so she opened the door more. The priest hadn't found anything malevolent, so maybe she was safe. She hoped so at least. "I'm sorry. How long have you been here?"

    "So long...so very long."

    "I'm Ginnie Everly. What's your name?"

    "Edgar Kennedy III."

    "That's a wonderful name. Elegant and important sounding. Mine sounds like a name for a cat or something."

    Laughter filled the room and echoed through the house. "You are funny, Ginnie. It has been nice having you here. Not like the last people, they were strange and didn't like having me here. They tried to make me leave, but I can't. At least I have never been able to find a way to leave. It scared me a little when that priest came today. The last one hurt me a little, but I hid and stayed quiet until they left."

    Ginnie frowned and started to turn on the light to go back into the room but hesitated, "Why do you only come out at night? Does the light hurt you?"

    "It does. It burns my eyes, so I wait."

    "Then I'll leave it off. I don't want to hurt you."

    "Thank you."

    "I've been alone a long time too, so I understand how that is. Not as long as you, but it's not easy." She sat on the floor by the door and sighed, "Now that I know who you are, you can make noise and talk. I won't mind or be afraid anymore, Ok?"

    A thin frail looking figure walked down the wall from the ceiling and sat in front of her. "I don't know if you can see me," he said watching her with sunken eyes and cheeks. "But I almost hope you can't. I look sick I know. I wish I could change that, but i can't. I look scary."

    She watched him and shook her head, "You don't look scary at all. You do look like you were sick, but I bet you were quite a handsome young man."

    Edgar smiled, "I was average. But I think I might have grown up to be handsome, maybe, if I had a chance."

    "I've very sure you would have."

    Another smile and then he stood, "You were going to rest, and I don't want you to grow ill. Thank you for talking with me. can we do so again tomorrow night?"

    "I shall be delighted." She said standing and brushing off her dress. "Make yourself at home, because this is just as much your home as it is mine. Good night Edgar."

    "Sweet Dreams Ginnie."
     
  6. The spirit hung close to the corner in the ceiling, peering down at the wedge of light shining through from the open door. A man's shadow was cast long as a sword across the floor, as far as the light would carry it, and the spirit shrunk back as it saw the shadow of a crucifix in the figure's hand. It's small, boyish form curled up in a ball as it watched with ill-hidden malice.

    "...and hopefully, this will teach you not to disobey your elders," a man's voice said as a priest walked out of the door, a young boy pushed ahead of him, his shadow engulfed in the priest's own. While it was dark, it was clear that the boy was walking a bit strangely, and he kept gingerly touching the backs of his thighs.

    The spirit touched its own legs in sympathy as if remembering a strange ache, something it had never experienced before. A meter stick. They always used a meter stick.

    "Mhm," the boy mumbled sullenly as he waddled forwards into the hallway, and the priest quickly grabbed him by the arm, hauling it up in the air to twist it into an uncomfortable position.

    "What do you say?" the Father asked harshly, and the boy cringed away, his eyes rimmed with dark circles.

    "...Yes, Father Michalka."

    "We will instill respect in you yet. Why do you think you've no parents yet, boy? No one wants a son who disobeys, or a child who will not mind," the Father said, tossing the boy's arm down and letting him stumble forward. "No breakfast tomorrow. You will help Anton clean the stables at daybreak. And I will let Father Ari know. If you sneak out again tonight, you will be praying Hail Mary's until lunch on rice while your brothers eat. Is this clear?"

    "Yes, Father Michalka."

    "Go to bed."

    The spirit watched with kindred feelings as the boy trudged forward, barefoot, towards his room, the Father continuing to watch him go.