“Alright everybody, listen up!” an old tontu announced. “We only have ten days until Christmas! Time to get things moving faster if we want our two month break! We were able to finish on time for December sixth and thirteenth. Great job everyone!”
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Down the old logging road we hiked, hoping it might take us back to where we’d parked the truck. After a while of walking, I don’t know how long, a woman approached us walking down the muddy road. I would’ve thought this suspicious under different circumstances, but she enchanted me as soon as I looked into her clear blue eyes.
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Something caught my eye; an old horseshoe nailed to the doorframe. I noticed that every door and window had a horseshoe similarly nailed above it. Most of the older houses in this area had a horseshoe over the doorway, so it wasn’t all that noteworthy at the time. However, typically the horseshoes are nailed to the outside of doorways, not the inside, and there was usually only one.
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Adil looked around him – /
Memories, an apartment full of memories. /
His beautiful mother. /
His wise father. /
His siblings. /
It would be difficult leaving this place.
“Well, the Goat-Man is a half-man, half-goat monster who lives in the woods here in Swaggart County. They say if you see the Goat-Man, death is certain to follow by the next new moon. Folks have been seeing the Goat-Man.”
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As soon as the moon’s rays touched our skin, we changed. Wolfish hair replaced bare human skin. We went down on all fours as claws supplanted nails. We howled into the star-studded sky, repeating the ritual that our ancestors had practiced since the days when Vikings ruled the seas. We were wolves.
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Adil’s heart felt heavy
Hearing her weep,
Unable to be present to console her.
Flowers and chocolates could not wipe away her tears.
Her appetite replaced by butterflies in her stomach
She eats a small salad with soup and crackers
Then she applies her cosmetics.
The phone rings.
I have to admit I was nervous; all the monsters and demons I’d faced up to now, and I was scared of a regular woman. “You wanna grab a burger at Granny’s tonight?”
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She set out to Assume Nothing.
Adil would be waiting for her.
Grey gloves in hand.
She could feel a blush rising to her cheeks.
My heart was hell, a deepening abyss. My soul, wrapped in chains, unable to find peace. I staggered along with fellow students on the way to morning chapel. This stroll was familiar as it was required of us each weekday morning. It was a bright sunny day in Southern California and my whole being throbbed with woe.
NO! It can’t be true!
Time ticks.
Alarmed, he looks at the door.
No knock, no bell, no call.
She is late.
She is never late.
A humble door lies to the observer about what lies beyond.
Azure blue paint faded and peeling reveals aged wood.
Above the door a faded sign.
“Assume Nothing”
Ornate calligraphy painted gold, red, cream.
The intrepid onlooker sees an opportunity to explore.
Just then, a blood-curdling scream tore through the library. Willow ran out of the ladies’ bathroom like the devil was after her.
“Whoa there, cowgirl, what’s the ruckus?” I asked.
“I looked in the mirror, and instead of my face, I saw this horrible, black monster face with red eyes!”
Jeanne di Arch was the daughter of the mayor of Turs and was called on to do many things, but what King Yeshua asked her to do was the strangest request by far. It technically all started when a horde of trolls led by Eglesh attacked their village.
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“Torben is bringing someone!”
“Another stray human, I’ll wager. Tor’s a big softy deep down.”
“He’s big and scary, but he has a good heart.”
The darkness was what haunted Sera the most. The darkness of the witch’s castle and the horrid hissing voices of the wraiths she kept as her servants and pets. They whispered and taunted. “You’ll never see the sun again.” “No one will remember you.” “You can never go home.”
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The white climbing rose that stood on the east side of Keep Meridian’s garden had many names. To rose fanciers, (who came from miles around to view her splendor) she was the Scimitar Rose. To the bards, she was the noble Queen of the Flowers. But to the Elves of Meridian, she was Akasma, or at least the only part of her that remained in this world.
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“Filomena, Filomena! Mama says make it quick. Mama, Papa, Francisco and I are already ready!” blurted ten-year-old Fatima.
“I know; I’ll be out in a minute!” Filomena called back in exasperation.
The hell hole was vanishing. Suddenly, a black, hairy arm thrust out of the darkness and grabbed me by the vest, yanking me into the hole.
“WALTER!” Conrad cried as I fell into the darkness.
LogoSophia Magazine 