Writing prompt: the werewolf had come for a polite up of tea

The damask curtains moved slightly in the wind. Elionwy adjusted her monocle.

“So, you are here from…” She stirred about in her paperwork for a moment.

“Ah, here we go…Blood Freakers.”  She looked up at the prospect. “OK. Tell me why you wish to terminate your contract.”

Green eyes met hers and skittered away.

“.. Well. Just ’cause.”  A scarred and heavily ringed hand pushed back ratty red curls.

“Well, we are going to need more than just that, I am afraid. You can’t just terminate a legal contract because it is not ‘convenient””.

The woman across the way snarled, forehead and muzzle wrinkling into angry patterns. The irises of her eyes slitted and her lips lifted to reveal sharp canines.

Elionway grimaced. “Really dear? Is that not how you got into this mess in the first place?”

She poured a draft of Darjeeling into the womans’s cup.

“We shall take of this. No one should be shackled with ‘Blood Freakers’ as a surname.


Really, we could make a case on taste alone.”



Writing prompt: the fairies in the basement

Dim light was still filtering through the half windows when she stopped working. She finished the chant, letting the soft invocation fall from her lips.

Carol sat back on her haunches letting her muddy hands rest on her thighs. The final planting was already taking hold. As she watched, a little cap pushed up through the soil. She waited until the color had flushed through the entire top of the hat. Scarlet faded into bone white spots, scattered over the entire top. She reached forward and patted the little head, being careful to not touch the dusty white spots.

“Welcome to Earth Prime little one. Let’s start on finding you some additional friends, yeah?

You are so welcome here, Amanita Fae. We have such work to do.”

Writing Prompt: The wall where his hat once hung

He’d had them knock down the wall where his brother’s sword had hung. Knock it down and break it into chunks fit for building a cairn. It seemed fitting somehow. The longhouse was a ruin anyway.
Uther watched while they fit the last of the jagged blocks into place. The noise of the knappers and leather workers shouting behind him made him grind his teeth in frustration. Couldn’t they give him just a few moments of quiet? He knew it was war time, but they were putting his brother to rest. There would always be war. Today should be a time to reflect.

Writing Prompt: Then came the hackers, or that’s what I thought.

Then came the hackers, or so she thought.
In truth, the numbers were off. She spent some time looking the numbers over before finally deciding that it was a waste of time. The truth was that it was almost always ghosts. Revenants of centuries past, mucking about in the systems. She sighed, finger hovering over the Delete key. She hated removing them. They seemed so lonely and desperate for contact.


It was Advent and the Dollbearers had not come this year.

Outside the snow drifted down, a white curtain blotting the kaleidoscope sky. The second hand on the clock spent an eternity sweeping to its next station. From downstairs, the sounds of shrieks and jingle bells went on.

The wheezing noises were from under the bed this time. Jewel turned her head, damp curls pressing into even damper pillow. She swallowed past the bright terror in her throat. Carefully she dangled the ha’penny over the edge and let it drop. There was a satisfied sigh.

“’tis the Season” it whispered.