April 2019 -- 75 Word Story Challenge -- VICTORY TO TERESA EDGERTON!

[scarpelius]

Meet you at WorldCon

The reasons you can't find any vampire in Transylvania are simply economic. After the fall of the Berlin Wall we've scattered to the four winds. Literally.
I too fled, eager to taste the world, which I've found it filled with interesting, zesty, sweet and yummy people.
Above all, I've become a fan of the comics and sci-fi conventions. I heard about one in Dublin at CCD structure.
Just bring yourselves, I got the wine.

 

[Ivy Moser]

For Notre Dame

The sky sulked low, dogging the earth, soaking it with tears. Drifting through the ruined church, her hands brushed at still-warm stones.

Too late.

The rain came too late.

Char and cinder. Even the framework, ash. Her refuge for centuries, gone in a day. No more echoing voices, swelling music…the resonant, resounding tower bells.

Among the rubble, blackened bell-husks. She traced the curves, her hand ever fainter. Au revoir, mon cœur. Au—

 

[Dr_R_Dizzle]

If these walls could talk...

The dilapidated manor seemed to breath as wind blew through shattered windows, shifting long undisturbed dust as it explored the decaying interior. It blew past the kitchen, where a mother had once been badly scalded. In the parlour, it rattled a poker by the hearth that long ago terrified a toddler. Outside, the "For Sale" sign had gone. Soon, the manor could corrupt a new family. If buildings could smile, this one would be grinning.

 

[Parson]

Sanctuary​

Lightening backlit the cathedral. Elizabeth shivered; a vampire night. “What am I doing out alone anyway? Couldn’t Aunt Zoe wait until morning?”

CRACK! FLASH. And …. she saw it. She screamed at its fanged smile.

Fear gave her feet wings. Still, it gained. She slammed into the locked cathedral door; trapped.

As she turned, it leered, then froze as a silver cross flashed. The Padre stepped out and commanded: “Leave! Devil Spawn.”

God’s Sanctuary indeed.

 

[Peter V]

Homecoming, November 11th 1918

Lightning flashes, casting the brooding façade of Alston Grange into stark relief and momentarily revealing a ghostly white, red-eyed face in the study window.

George limps inside, entering the dark hallway where a sudden movement catches him by surprise. Arms envelop him in a desperate embrace, sweet perfume teases his nose.

The woman in his arms sobs. “I'd thought you lost, husband.”

He turns up the light, sees eyes red from crying.”

“It’s over darling.”

 

[Culhwch]

Tyrant’s Last Stand

The armada left darkspace ten thousand leagues from the holy planet. Aboard the Righteous, the priest-admiral knew immediately something was wrong.

A debris field ringed the planet, the irregular shapes strangely familiar.

‘The grand cathedrals,’ an acolyte murmured.

There were smaller shapes, too. Bodies.

The Divine.

‘The Archon will burn,’ spat the priest-admiral.

‘Are they … watching us?’

Dead eyes, aflame with dark magic, tracked them.

The priest-admiral cursed.

‘It’s a tra--’

 

[HareBrain]

A PREMATURE END


Finally, I had builded it. From thirteen cathedrals had I stolen stones touched by corrupt saints, and now in night’s dark heart I sanctified the altar with my nephew's still-born son.

‘Let her rise again!’ I wept, kneeling, before the bloodied granite, as lightning flared and thunder shook. ‘My poor, consumptive wife …!’

‘You cannot yet succeed,’ intoned my crippled servant.

‘Why ever not?’

‘This is a classic three-act story, and this but the second.’

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

Voracious​

That first glimpse I had of the old house glowering on the hill, something about it looked … carnivorous. Naturally, I dismissed that as fancy, and having nowhere else to live (the inheritance had been timely) moved in.

Now, as I wander the shadowed halls, through the tangled garden, I consider all I’ve lost since then: so many memories, so many words. Friends tell me it’s only age, but I fear the house is eating th—

 

[Phyrebrat]

A Dock in Chatham

Pitt stood in the keel’s shadow under iron skies losing their battle to dull this vessel; its masts - spires! - pierced the clouds.
Can a ship truly live as men do?
Compelled, he pressed an ear against its ribs, expecting to hear a heartbeat, if not choir song.
A cathedral, not a ship!
But the name… To name a ship thus put the cart before the horse.
We shall see what happens…

 

[Alex The G and T]

Transient Victory


The storm surges in from the East. All of my terrible preparations are in place.
I, alone, control the secrets of the Electron.

With the strength of Lightning, I command the mountain stone.

Rise monoliths! Mold yourselves to my bidding! Reshape yon Tor!
Carve yourselves at the gesture of my hand!

By dawn, I have created a colossus to my Magnificence.

As I rest, the morning dew drains the electrical charge.

The edifice melts away.

 

[LittleStar]

The Roommate Revival

Shelley glared at the thunderheads rolling over the tower. Why was it always so cliche? He sighed and pulled the lever. Cogs and counterweights cracked into life, raising the rod high.

The lightning struck, perfect first time.

Fingers creaked, legs twitched and eyes snapped open. The creature sat, pinching the bridge of its nose.

“Good, you’re awake.”

Its brow knit together sleepily; confused. “What the hell!?” Ah, angrily.

‘It’s Wednesday. Wednesday is Halo night.”

 

[Perpetual Man]

The Ghost of St. Peter's Ruin

Lovers sneak between pallid stones, memories of names engraved deep. Despite their ardour they avoid the clinging shadows. The broken church rises high, white stone caught in moonlight, gargoyles smirking in base relief. Shattered windows of leaded glass, perfect alignment that a spectral prison does make.

I hear muffled fumbling’s through deafened ears, see erotic renderings brought to life through sightless eyes.

They see me not.

I am nothing because there is nothing here.

 

[M. Robert Gibson]

All's Well That Ends Well

The rusted gates screamed as I forced them open. Gravel crunched underfoot. Lightning flashed, disturbing the night's gloom, silhouetting the derelict castle of my destiny.

An owl screeched.

The stench from some foetid swamp invaded my nostrils. An acrid taste attacked my throat.

A wolf howled.

Approaching the edifice, cracked windows reflected the full moon like a thousand malevolent eyes.

Then, something happened!

* * *​

My editor looked up. "Good beginning and middle, but the ending's... lacking."

 

[Ursa major]

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The Saint and Sinner “G”​

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The cacophony came from around the corner of the building, out of his sight. “What’s happening, Gargle?”​

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“They’re building a new wing.”​

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“Surely your need is greater.”​

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“It’ll be taller than ours.”​

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“You know this how?”​

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“I just do.”​

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“Your reign will soon be over.”​

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“Carving yourself a new niche… in comedy…? Then again, being a mere statue of a saint must be no joke.”​

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“Even for a gargoyle, you do spout rubbish.”​

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[Bob Senior]

At The Flea Market


" What's a fine looking gentleman such as yourself doing out on such a dark and gloomy morning?"
" I'd like to purchase your gargoyle."
" The gargoyle sir?"
" Yes I'm building a backyard playhouse for my little girl's birthday and the gargoyle will set it off nicely."

" Can you deliver it on the 13th? "
" Discreetly ! "
" Yes sir, a surprise sir ? "
" Yes."

" How old is the little girl , sir ? "
" She'll be 106 next Friday ."

 

[The Big Peat]

Building Up To The Obvious Climax

Rob was confused by the Count’s architectural plans.

“I can do a mansion, yeah. No probs. But haunted?”

The Count smiled. “All in good time.”

Rob nodded but throughout the build, he tried to find out. Rifled through papers. Asked leading questions.

All he heard was “All in good time.”

When they finished, Rob asked again. And the Count smiled.

After, Rob’s ghost waved a hand through his throat.

“I should have seen that coming.”

 

[The Judge]

Served Cold


The villagers spoke of an ancient curse.

“Virgins defiled, innocents murdered,” I translated. “Revenge to the tenth generation.”

“Superstitious peasants,” sneered Otranto. “Grandpa was right. His grandfather’s castle is perfect for the film.”

*​

Crumbling towers, vaults shrouded in darkness, blind casements, shattered walls. Destruction, decay, echoes of death.

“Life has structure,” said Otranto. “I was destined to come here. It’s in my blood.”

I drew my knife. To the tenth generation.

“Mine, too,” I said.

 

[TheDustyZebra]

Lady of Stone

Dark clouds roil the horizon in a fury born of Hell; the hatch is nigh.
Electric rumblings emanate from below the cathedral walls; the chimeras shift in anticipation.
Tourists smile in sunshine below, oblivious.
For 175 years they’ve waited, guarded this grand and gilded nest dans le coeur de Paris; now it crumbles as their offspring hatch in fire.
Wyverns wing to freedom.
Smoke subsumes Heaven into Hell; tourists cry in the heart of darkness.

 

[Ursa major]

This challenge is now closed to new entries.

Voting is open at the link below:

POLL -- April 2019 75-Word Challenge -- READ FIRST POST!​

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