by Michael Seese
I had a howling good time writing this week's Flash! Friday entry. (Horrible pun intended.)
Our mission: to work off the Hound of the Baskervilles, Arthur Conan Doyle’s tale starring celebrated detective Sherlock Holmes, who uses his (arrogant) genius to solve murders against a backdrop of a legendary, terrifying hellhound.
So the story elements were:
* Conflict: man vs man
* Character (choose one): arrogant detective, retired doctor, a lord under a family curse
* Theme(s) (choose one): cunning, guilt, superstition
* Setting: isolated country manor
I chose the latter two, and ignored the picture...
... I guess, in writing "At Bay."
A man's blood can be rather tenacious.
Try as I might, I cannot rid myself of the stain.
From my clothing.
From my hands.
From my soul.
Each time I rend another's
still-beating heart from his chest, a small portion of mine dies in
concert.
In repose by the window, I hardly savor
the final vestiges of freedom, as I await with imponderable dread the
inevitable.
Were that I could trade lives with one
of them. My victims. Then the nightmare finally could end.
The full moon glides out from behind
the Coromandel screen of a cloud, baring her soul, and forcing me to
do likewise. My hands distort as the talons erupt from my fingertips.
My mouth aches as the fangs assume their devilish station. My scream
morphs to a howl, my body to an abomination.
At last, it ends.
I look upon my wife, sleeping, then
crawl to her bed, on all fours, like the animal I am. She is so
beautiful. So at peace. I cannot bear the thought of what is to
transpire.
She opens her eyes, eyes which no
longer reveal anything within.
She smiles.
At that moment, the moonbeam that had
been slithering across the floor strikes her face. Her body contorts,
wracked by the curse we share. Or better said, the curse she chose to
foist upon our house.
Unlike me, she seems to enjoy the pain
wedded to the transformation. After a brief recovery, she stands and
strokes my hirsute cheek.
"The moors beckon, my love. 'Tis
time for us to hunt."
As you can tell, I've been spending a lot of time over at horrortree.com
Tomorrow
(surprise, surprise) is another Janet contest. My entry is well under way.
