#StitchedSaturday 7/6/19

Here is your prompt for #StitchedSaturday

RULES: Max Words Allowed =1k

I’m giving you guys a little more room for this one. You can go up to 1k words and it must be at least 250.

Have fun, happy #writing

13 thoughts on “#StitchedSaturday 7/6/19

  1. Leviathan’s Bride
    By Ezekiel Kincaid

    Into the sea,
    He tossed his love.
    Her body ravaged,
    And gushing blood.

    The angel’s war,
    Took her soul.
    She was struck in judgment,
    For sins of old.

    The mighty cherub,
    Held her tight.
    As she breathed her last,
    In the dark of night.

    He carried her out,
    Into restless waves,
    And released the woman,
    He could not save.

    Under the moon light,
    Her body glowed.
    As the water carried her,
    To the depths below.

    The mighty cherub,
    Bid her farewell.
    His judgment was near,
    The shackles of hell.

    In the depths of the sea,
    Leviathan lurked.
    Watching Lilith’s body,
    Descend through the murk.

    His goal is to twist,
    Distort and deceive.
    To ruin God’s image,
    And make humans believe.

    That God is the being,
    Who caused all their pain,
    And spoke through the one,
    Who brought guilt and shame.

    If Leviathan could make,
    Lilith his own,
    The two united as one,
    Could make the earth groan.

    Her lust and perversion,
    Became her fate.
    The cherub tried to save her,
    But love blossomed too late.

    Around her body.
    Leviathan swam.
    Reached out a tentacle,
    And caressed her hand.

    He wrapped her up,
    And held her near.
    He kissed her lips,
    Then whispered in her ear.

    Awake, oh Lilith,
    Arise from death.
    And let my life,
    Bring you breath.

    Lilith opened her eyes,
    They were blue and bright.
    The perfect allure,
    To lead away from the light.

    Leviathan and Lilith
    Together they embraced
    Arms merged with tentacles
    And face absorbed face.

    Now a solitary creature,
    Together as one.
    To emerge from the depths.
    And blot out the sun.

    Deception and lust,
    Alluring and twisting,
    To pervert what is true,
    And leave humanity empty.

    Emerging from the sea,
    The hybrid went forth.
    Consuming souls,
    And destroying their worth.

    With her eyes she enchants,
    With her mouth she devours.
    With his tail he stings,
    With his tentacles are power.

    To rule over people,
    And bind them in chains,
    To all that is false,
    So their lusts will reign.

    Who can slay this beast,
    That roams sea and land?
    Only the warrior,
    With holes in His hands.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Ariel, The name I whispered into the void, across crashing waves and into the hearts of men, into the very core of what they desired. Ariel, The name I gave to myself to mask the creature that claimed it. Something beautiful to say, something that sounded like a song when moaned past quivering lips. Ariel, the stuff of nightmares that wore a pretty mask.
    I sang to anyone that would listen, anyone stupid enough to fall victim to the lies that danced through the rolling waters. I called to them, their want a current to me that pulled them in and held them close as I promised them the world. As I spoke to their most carnal needs, the things that lived so deep inside them, so dark that they would never dare utter them aloud.
    “ All you want, I can give you. “ So drunk on the sound of my voice that they didn’t notice the horrors that awaited them just beneath the surface. “ I can make you feel like a God. “ So drunk on my sweet nothings that they didn’t flinch when water filled their lungs. They never struggled, wrapped tight in my spell, hard with anticipation even when they could no longer find air to breathe.
    Men, such simple creatures. A delicate touch, the swell of a breast or the sweetest of smiles and they were as easy to manipulate as clay. They want nothing more than the warmth of a woman and get nothing more than the icy cold of the water as I drag them deeper. I kiss their lips to offer them a few more moments of life, watching their wide eyes and twisted mouths as my beautiful facade slips away. Their lust dies first, fading as quickly as the spell I cast upon them and their fear devours them from the inside.
    They can’t scream but oh, do they try and they choke and perhaps they even cry. Down there in the depths of the ocean, held so close in my arms while I whisper those sweet nothings they yearned to hear. Something stirs deep within me, a familiar knot in my stomach as hunger opens it’s greedy jaws. It begs for the feel of a man inside me, aches for the shiver it always sends down my spine and like an addict, I give it what it craves. With my pretty mask lost in the undertow, the monster beneath growls and grins and I tear flesh from bone.
    Copper in my mouth, flesh between jagged teeth and for the briefest of moments he struggles against me. Whatever life he had left inside of him is gone now, the light in his eyes fades as he’s limp in my arms as I feast on his flesh. I eat until I can barely move, belly full of meat and the water around me hazy with blood. The monster I am satisfied until the next unfortunate soul answers my death song and falls for my pretty mask.
    Men, they really are such simple creatures.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. The Witch of the Deep
    By Becca Mitchell

    In the dark cold deep, she sleeps and her magic gently swirls around her. The ripples on the water above awaken her from her cold dark slumber. Her large shrouded eyes search for the source and gaze upon the intruder of her foreboding cool realm. From the cool watery depth, she glides upward toward the surface, toward her intended victim. Her hand outstretched she reaches and feels the power of the life above her as they are desperate to stay ahead of the choppy water.
    The darkness of the water hides her form as she reaches for the swimming mortal above. She will sing her sweet siren song, an offering that brings promise of beauty, power, lust, every earthly pleasure, and hope. A sensitive trap that few can resist once her voice of intense beauty laced with death begins to call and beckon.
    Her arms reaching up, she manipulates the dark waves above so the possible ill fated victim will feel her power as she slowly writhes closer. Her fingertips nearly brush against the swimmer and she begins to summon. The veil on her face will hide the true horror underneath to only show the beauty she wants seen. She gathers her power and begins to will the waves to slow the swimmer.
    She smiles when she remembers those whose curiosity for her beauty will bring them close enough to her grasp so they will be hers forever. She barely tickles the toes of her intended when they stop suddenly. She watches as rope is cast and help is standing by. She smiles and sings her magic for only mortal ears. A sly smile spreads over face as she softly sings again, a little louder. The swimmer pauses and glances away from the rope to see her sparkling eyes and hear her beautiful call. They don’t lock eyes for long, just enough for her large waves to knock the swimmer down to her.
    The boat and crew above will only know that it took a second for the sea to engulf their crew-mate. Like most mortals, they don’t know about the witch that stalks underneath their boats. Only when it is too late do they ever acknowledge her hunger for more power, her craving for the very essence that is actual life for mortals.
    She grasps her victim and watches as they drink in her beauty. They panic at first when they realize her cold quiet realm is not like theirs. In her grasp she brings the false promise of life and hope that all will be alright. Like a mother, she gives comfort and peace to the struggling mortal in her grasp as though they were a child that needed protected. She shows them some magic and lets her beauty calm and soothe. When finally they are near their mortal end, she lifts her veil to show them her truth, her fierce and unnatural face. Then at last she feeds on the spirit that is about to be released to her. Crushing their bodies in her hands, she tosses them aside and devours the precious light that was their life and feasts well until her next victim.
    Finally fulfilled and recharged from the fresh life that will enhance her power. She twirls slowly back down to her beautiful darkness where she waits, where she is always waiting for her next lost swimmer, or ill fated crew that happens upon her.

    Liked by 3 people

  4. My Favorite Color
    By Michael Vachmiel

    “Don’t you know mermaids are Anglo?” the old deck hand cried over the wind. “It can be proven by science that mermaids are all Anglo! Can’t argue with science! Can’t argue with history either!”

    “Well, I heard that a mermaid can be of any color. Makes them a better predator. Better to lure men to their deaths with their sexy charms” the young sailor retorted back.

    Both men glared at each other. The old man then smiled and the young man followed. All pretense of a fight melted as the men laughed at the sheer stupidity of the conversation and the ignorance of social media that spawned it.

    The boat listed slightly. The sound a of loud wet thud bought the men’s gaze to a frightful, horrific attention. They could not process what they were seeing, terror wrecking them. The figure of a nude women of pale green white skin adorned with red hair flowing madly in the gale wind of the ocean.

    With the hint of scales below her waist.

    “Actually”, the mermaid gave a gurgled laugh, “We are green to pale white as you can see. We have claws” Pausing to give a bladed wave along with a knowing smile. “and we have fins the many shades of the dark rainbows of the deep oceans.”

    “The colors you humans should worry about are red and pink. We love the red of blood and the sweet pink of flesh we devour.” The figure lunged onto the deck, revealing herself fully, bestal death with a single tail of many hues and the body of a siren.

    “Let me end your silly squabble by showing you the colors I so love”


  5. Red Rain

    By Thomas R Clark

    ‘The sea is a harsh mistress. Beautiful to behold, but deadly to those falling into her deep embrace.’ Ibrahim Hussein’s father once told him. A fisherman his whole life, the elder Hussein was a wealth of unsolicited advice. Many of his proverbial insights were discovered during his times of solace on the ocean, catching meals for his family and neighbors. Like most young men, Ibrahim scoffed at his sire’s wisdom. ‘Such is the hubris of youth.’ The old man may have mused, were he to address his son’s failure to heed the advice.

    Much to Ibrahim’s dismay, his father’s wisdom bore fruit this day. Ibrahim was fortunate. The family patriarch wasn’t one to rub failure in your face. He expected you to learn from experiences. In fact, if a stray Russian missile hit its target two years ago, and not the fishing village his ancestors lived in, the elder Hussein would be alive today. He’d extend a hand to his son, hold him and calm, assuring pat on the back.

    Ibrahim coughed, and spit out a mouthful of wet sand. It tasted salty, like the sea. A fog settled around him, sepia tones shimmered in the light leaking through. He could smell the seagrasses, so crisp, tickling the interior of his nostrils. With outstretched hands, he grasped for something, anything, to hold onto. His skin burned from exposure as he flailed about. He tried to catch his breath, again. Instead, he found himself coughing more salty, coppery phlegm. He felt the urge to vomit.

    None of this made sense. Ibrahim was finding it difficult, if not impossible, to breathe. He was drowning with each breath, he understood this much. His vision, already clouded by the foggy haze, was fading in and out. He closed his eyes, opened them, and found he was home and his family was alive. He could smell the ocean, hear the waves rolling across the surface. But he couldn’t feel it or any other sensation. He closed his eyes and mouth and attempted to breathe through his nose. Scabbed and dripping with puss, this wasn’t an option. He opened his mouth and tried to suck in as much air as he could. It was futile.

    A sound of thunder blew away the fog. Pain wracked his body, he felt his extremities stiffening. Ibrahim opened his eyes, his vision still spotty and getting worse as the seconds passed. He wasn’t surprised to see the Djinn hovering before him. She was green as the sea, an amalgam of human and the fishes of the deep. Her long locks flowed like seaweed in a current as she floated in the air.

    “I should not be here.” The Djinn said, looking down upon Ibrahim’s blistered body, “I should be there, in the sea. Not here. This is wrong.” The creature pointed to the ocean waters lapping onto the beach. “This is all wrong.” Ibrahim wanted to answer her, but he couldn’t. He pointed to the sky. The creature’s eyes followed his finger. High above them, the profile of a helicopter floated in the sky, the afternoon sun behind it. The Russian Mi-24 was ringed in a golden halo by the sun.

    “I knew your father. I saved him once when he was young.” The Djinn reached down and scooped Ibrahim up. “He fell overboard. Your uncle tried to throw him a buoy, but your father, for all his wisdom, never learned to swim. He sank into the waters. But I knew he needed to live, to provide for the people of your village.” The Djinn said. “I’ve watched over your family since time began.” The Djinn rose in the sky, carrying Ibrahim’s limp form in her arms. “Now it seems I’ve failed in my duty. Though I could protect those on the ocean’s drift, the land and air are not my strengths. For this, I ask your forgiveness, last son of Hussein.”

    Ibrahim nodded, closed his eyes one last time, and drowned in his the blood filling his lungs. The Djinn wept as she placed Ibrahim Hussein’s body in the sea. It floated for a moment, then sank. She turned her head and looked back up. The helicopter remained in place. The Djinn’s mouth opened wide into an enormous ring, exposing thangs of all the ocean’s predators. With a mighty leap, she projected herself from the water into the air.

    She struck the bottom of the flying machine with the force of a battering ram. Tentacles wrapped around the metal frame, grasping the helicopter, pulling and pinching it from the tail and nose. The metal resisted, screeching as it bent and twisted. Once the tail dropped, the aircraft flipped over. The Djinn released her grip and used the force of gravity to propel her over the water. She laughed as the Russian helicopter fell to the ground and exploded. The Djinn watched as metal melted and the fire burned until it finally extinguished. Satisfied in her vengeance, she dove back into the depths of her watery home, where her last child awaited her final embrace.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. “Lady of the Pond”
    by Shannon Grant

    “I’m going in.”
    “Wait, you’re not actually going out there?!”
    “YOLO. Isn’t that the motto we’re supposed to be living by these days?”
    Corey stared at Ari in disbelief. Then he looked back at the woman in the boat with the long blond hair. Even though the boat floated at a distance in the middle of the pond, he could tell she was attractive.
    “You heard what Spotty said. No one knows how deep the pond is.”
    The woman held a steady gaze on the two of them. One of her hands beckoned towards them. She wasn’t attempting to row back to shore.
    Ari had already stripped down to his skivvies, his pale, scrawny body seeming to glow against the backdrop of the setting sun. Corey shook his head. The discomfort had come upon him when he saw the color of the pond. There was something dreadful about it, a swampy monster green holding who knows what inside of it.
    This is what happens when you go far enough off the path, Corey thought.
    Ari seemed to think for a second, then stripped off his underwear.
    “Oh, man,” Corey said.
    “Hey, we’re living that festival life. Get used to it.”
    That damn music festival. That’s why they were there. But Ari had wanted to go off into the woods and find this weird pond he had heard about. Corey had tagged along, hoping that the water would be enough to offset the sticky humidity of August.
    Corey watched as Ari stepped into the water.
    She’s like a mute siren, thought Corey.
    He admitted to himself he was tempted as well, but there was this block in his mind. A wall stood between his desire and his common sense, something Ari didn’t seem to have built just yet.
    “It’s fuckin’ cold!” Ari yelled, shivering. He waded further into the pond, holding his arms out so that the rest of his body could get used to the water first.
    The boat woman continued to motion for Ari to come forward. Ari decided to bite the bullet and submerged his whole body, throwing himself into the green water. Corey didn’t have to be in the water to feel the tiny knives of cold hitting the rest of Ari’s body. Ari yelled out, his arms chopping through the water to propel himself forward.
    It was then the woman spoke. “Hurray!” she called out to Ari. “Please, hurray!”
    “I’m coming!” Ari yelled back. “I’m coming!”
    Corey had no idea what was going on with this woman anymore. She sounded like she needed to be saved, but something about this whole situation seemed weird.
    “Hurray!” she yelled again.
    Ari tried to propel himself faster through the water, legs kicking harder, arms cutting through murky green.
    Next came the sound.
    The rumble came from under Ari, a strange muddled earthquake that made the water move. He stopped, treading water as his head whipped around. The woman began to scream.
    “Hurray the fuck UP!”
    Ari tried to swim faster as the sound got louder. He began to struggle, both the water and shock of killed calmness weighing him down. He was still kicking his legs as the water around him began to separate.
    The lady of the pond showed her terrible face to him, her spectral glowing form coming up into the summer air, turning his reality into a nightmare fairy tale. Her face was skull-like, grinning at him, knowing she had won again.
    Ari didn’t scream as she reached one hand up to gently push him down under the surface of the pond, but the woman in the boat did.
    “YOU BITCH!!!”
    The lady of the pond smiled at her, the sickly green of her body slowly hardening, turning to stone. She couldn’t be out here for too long, or else the humid air would turn her to a grotesque statue.
    She submerged herself back down to the depths of the pond. Ari would be dead before he knew how deep the pond went.

    Corey stood and watched the horror play out before his eyes. He felt the way he had when he had first learned to swim, a helpless feeling overcoming him as he tried to stay afloat.
    This competition between the woman in the boat and the lady of the pond had gone on for years and she had yet to score one win against her.
    She thought if only Ari had been faster.
    But then again, she had thought the same thing about all the men who had come before him.

    Liked by 1 person

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