Moonfall Story Index
Sarah Morrigan’s husband Seth hasn’t been the same since he was injured in a fire years ago. He ignores her. He obsesses about his garden and his alchemy. A shadow grows up around him. It fills their house, separating him from Sarah, choking her off.
One day he comes back to her. The shadow is gone.
Or is it?
Warnings - the usual death and angst and horror ones, plus also now sexual themes!
In the Valley of the Sun Story Index
This story is completed.
Lilith Parker is working at the local paper, announcing births and birthdays and deaths. One morning her boss Shannon gives her a more exciting assignment – research the local haunted house and write an article on its history. Nice flavor for Halloween, right?
But then Shannon turns up dead the next day, the local townspeople seem intent on keeping the story of the haunted house a secret, and Lilith is being haunted herself. Will she survive?
Bits and Pieces Story Index
These are stand alone one off short stories, inspired by challenges and prompts at the LJ Idol writing community. Some are Sims stories, some are full text, some feature familiar characters, some have new characters.
Note – in pretty much everything I write there will be occasional curse words, non-gory violence, and DEATH!!! Also you may be eaten by grue.
The darkness clears. I’m back in Otherworld, in the water. I can feel sand under my toes.
I’m okay. I’m okay.
I focus on my breathing. I know how to do this. Take deep slow breaths, and ride the panic down.
I can’t go back to Marigold. Not yet. I didn’t learn anything. Not anything that could help. I learned that out there somewhere, Seth and I had a daughter. Who I couldn’t keep safe, who died, screaming, in a fire. And then I don’t know what happened to me, but Seth…
That wasn’t my Seth. I try to tell myself that, as the panic rises again. That wasn’t my Seth.
I have to try again. I have to find another world. There has to be one out there where Seth is happy, where he’s okay, where the shadow has not touched him. There has to be a Sarah out there who figured things out, who kept everyone safe, who did things right.
I take a deep long breath, and I hold it. I know how this goes, now. I know the darkness is coming, and I know it’ll be okay, that it won’t last long, and then I will be somewhere else.
I dive back under the water.
The air feels different here. It’s light. Springy. Like I could take a big breath of it, hold it in my lungs, and float up to the clouds. But the weight of the dim green clouds seems to forbid such frivolity. The trees do not move. The water lies still. There is no wind.
I thought there would be sounds. I thought there would be voices clamoring and murmuring, pleading and praying, a sea of voices crashing against the shore of this place. But there is only the silence, only the clouds pressing down.
I take a step forward. The ground is soft under my feet.
They are out there, in the water. The voices. The other worlds. I can’t hear them, but they are there, and I am going to find them.
Marigold’s magic shop is one that moves.
I had never pegged Marigold as being into unicorns on velvet under blacklight. But maybe this is what she thought people expected when they came to the wagon to have their fortune told.
Maybe I should dye my hair pink. Maybe I should buy velvet unicorn paintings. Maybe I should do acid.
Maybe I should stop making waffles.
That would not be what Seth expected.
The bed creaks. I feel the mattress rise a bit beneath me. Seth stands up, and the mattress falls. His warmth disappears.
I pretend to be asleep. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to make waffles. I don’t want to deal with the bugs on my kitchen counter.
I follow his footsteps across the floor. He’s at the dresser now.
I don’t want to do laundry either.
Seth gave me a list. He needs some kind of root, a few mushrooms, and bugs. Lots of bugs.
I’m not looking forward to the bugs.
Seth went back out to his garden, and I…
My husband lives in shadow. I see it when he walks to the breakfast table, when he eats my waffles, when he leaves and goes to work in his garden. It coils around him, dark and sinuous. It weaves through his fingers, between his legs, around his chest. It fills the spaces where I used to go, once.