100 Words of Betrayal

100 words for Chuck’s challenge.

Black Knight

An old crone watched him grow and he grew tall and fine with eyes glowing like his mother’s.

When he learned to walk, his father brought him a gift. A puppy with white fur and blue eyes and told him to name it.

Rubbing her snarled old hands on the crystal, she watched waiting patiently because surely as the warrior learned so was he schooling his son.

He taught him tactics, then taught him how to rule and when the pup grew pretty big, he gave him a gun and told him to shoot.



Loony Tunes 2

Tuesday April 15th, 2014.

“Michael, do you know why you’re here?”

“Yes. Because my husband thinks I’m going crazy, talking to people who aren’t there”

“Okay. Is he here?”

“Yes, on the couch beside me”

“What do you call him?”


“Hello Stanley. I believe you are as real as anyone else but I also believe you’re here for a reason and it’s my duty to find out what it is”

“Shut up…stop it”

“What is it? What did he say Michael?”

“He’s not happy to be here…”

“Can’t he leave if he wants?”

“Let me paraphrase that. He doesn’t really like you”

“He doesn’t have to. My job isn’t to be liked. It’s to help you figure out why your friend hasn’t gone yet. Most people lose theirs as children. It’s remarkable that yours has been with you all this while”

“Imaginary friends? So you think I’m crazy too. Just great”

“No I never said that…please don’t misquote me. You’re a creative man. A writer yes?”

“I’m a house-husband that dabbles in creative writing, yes but for leisure and what does that have to do with anything?”

“Possibly…everything. Next session I’d like us to focus on your marriage but now, tell me about your stories”.

(Watch out for the next part)

Loony Tunes

He came in unanticipated, his voice a hoarse whisper beside my ear as he looked at the screen over my shoulder. “I see you’re trying to post another story. You never learn do you?”

“It’s a small story. An idea came to me last night” I gulped, my voice shaking as my fingers paused over the keyboard.

He read silently for a few minutes then snorted, “An idea- you joke! This crap? This isn’t writing…with this your dishwasher – I can’t even call it talent compared to everything else you see on there. Haven’t you seen better? What makes you think you can compete with that?”

His words ran into each other and swam round my head.

“Stop. It’s not a contest! Besides I’m pretty good. I have reads on those stories. People comment on them…they love them. They…” my throat closed, choking on the onslaught of words being produced by my brain but I couldn’t dare say.

As usual his laughter sent chills down my spine and a fist round my heart. “Then you’re more of a fool than I thought”

Is he right? Am I really deluding myself?

“They read it because they are curious” he continued, his voice much closer than before echoing inside my brain. “They want to know what you bring to the table and I bet they are disgusted. They pity you – comment…after all that hard work you put in to write that trash it’s only fair you receive a pat on the back”


I wanted to lash back at him but it would be a very stupid move.

So harsh, why was he so hard on me today? “I’m not the best and it’s not a contest…we all have different styles…different commitment level to our work here” I know I’m not one of the best, not even close but I try. My fists curled in my palm, the screen becoming blurry as tears pinched behind my eyes.

“What is this tears? You never could handle the truth and if you really believe the shit you’re sprouting, you’re worse off than I thought. Delete them. Delete them all. You aren’t a writer, you never were. Give up this foolishness now, you know your limits – now respect them” His voice slowly faded away and even though the wounds they punched open in my mind hurt like crazy, I still panicked wiping the tears and snort on my face with my sleeves.”Come back! Please don’t go yet! I need you…I still need you!”

“I’ll be back when you’re ready to be reasonable” and Poof. Just like that…silence.

Alone…I was all alone. No matter how much I had wished for it and always prayed for him to go away, whenever he did his absence made that place inside hollow.

I hate when he goes silent and leaves me alone to fight my insecurities. I know he’s not always right but this time maybe he is.

“Who would want to read this shit?” and I hit delete.

The Prophecy

Written for one of RaeKitano’s prompts.

Theme : Speechless (One of the characters, can’t or won’t speak).



The edge of the tent flapped as we approached and I watched them steal glances at each other. Each trying to hide their fear, Jimmy reached out quickly to put a restraining hand on his arm, “Wait, something doesn’t feel right” he said pointing at the long tear on the canvas.

“The army got to Herr Gustavsson before us?”, Jean asked, eyes wide in childlike curiosity and apprehension. His lips trembled.

“Seems so”, Jimmy said blinking and I watched with pride as ‘the look’ crossed his face. That same one that crossed mine so many times. He was beginning to learn even without knowing the role in the fate had scripted specifically for him.

Jean nodded, hanging back and folded his arms across his tiny chest while he let his elder brother sneak up to the entrance. I already knew what they’d see before they did.

My body brutally torn apart by the witches.

“Jean!” he yelled and the other kid took off to heed his brother’s call.

I followed, my feet barely touching the grass.

Inside the messed up tent they stood side by side looking down at the ghastly sight with dry eyes. I hadn’t expected that, from our closeness as their teacher for these few months I’d expected at least a few tears.

Some wailing even.

“What do we do now?”, Jean asked turning to the other boy for guidance. A pleasant surprise but to be expected. Their kingdom was gone and their uncle turned to stone.

Jimmy was the new king. A King without a throne just as the prophecy said.

The little child’s voice was almost as still as the dry desert air and the fourteen year King looked at him for a second then bent to pick up Zynia.

The bright red light from the ruby at the hilt had gone off just as the life inside me did but the instant the hilt kissed Jimmy’s palm, it came back to life.

Much brighter than it had ever shone for me.

I closed my eyes briefly in relief. I hadn’t been too sure before but at that moment I felt fulfilled. I hadn’t failed.

The fates were right, Jimmy was the Foretold. With the realisation of that, I grew lighter and my vision began to blur. My time was up but his had just begun.

His story had just begun.

Goodluck Jimmy, I wanted to say. May Zynia and the gods remain with him and may he be the Redeemer the people deserve.

The lone candle in my hand flickered and went off, signaling her arrival. Just the way I’d slipped silently out of my dead mother’s womb, thus did I leave the world and the last thing I saw before The Lady of the Endless Night took me away, were his bright blue eyes.

He looked up from the red eye of the blade and right into mine.