May 2023

Greetings

Hello friendos! Hope you’re all having a lovely May. Time for a little update on how things are rockin’ and another prompt challenge.

Chapter Three of Chronicles of Death: Godkiller is here! A bit shorter than the prior chapters but also 90% action. We also figured out how to use a microphone so things sound a bit better. We’re hoping to get better every chapter. As Katya’s story unfolds in the dark world of Lupinaio, her journey grows ever more harrowing. Her quest to kill the Gods is becoming a reality- but can a God be killed?

Click here to find out in this month’s chapter: Til Death!

Progress

Currently in the midst of finishing up the final beta edits of The Aftermath. The first book title is being solidified and announced. Can’t wait to share it all with you, but hopefully I can get an agent first. That whole process is harrowing, but I’m doing my very best. That and Cursed is getting another revamp. I think that will be made free to read when Chronicles of Death is in its off-season. So I will get that one ready to post by the end of Godkiller’s seasonal run! Follow Khadrim on his journey to outwit fate and escape the hands of the devil.

Prompt - Unwanted Visitors

We’ve got our prompt challenge again! Remember- it’s simple if you want to play. Set a timer for 10 minutes and free-write. You can edit after if you want but try not to expound for the challenge (do whatever you want in your free time).

This time it’s “Unwanted Visitors”

Don’t forget to check out my socials if you want to participate. Send me what you wrote!

Unwanted Visitors

“Poltergeist comes out this weekend!”

“Mom will never let me go see that.”

“Tell her you’re seeing Short Circuit! That’s mom approved. Right?” Jose kicked at a loose pebble on the cracked asphalt. The sidewalk was too overgrown to walk on and besides- no one was on the road. Their neighborhood was seldomly traveled outside of its residents.

Elena shifted nervously next to him. If they hadn’t been neighbors and friends since they were children, they probably wouldn’t be friends at all. Elena was two years older than him. He hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet. Twelve to fourteen made a big difference. She’d matured but she was still the same mousy girl he’d known since he was old enough to have memories. Because they had known each other so long, they were best friends.

“You know that I’m bad at lying.”

“You want to see it, don’t you?”

“Uh, yeah. Ghosts, psychics, ancient burial grounds? You know I want to see it!” Elena pouted and Jose averted his eyes with a roll.

“Then tell her you’re going to see Short Circuit with me, and we’ll sneak into Poltergeist!”

“And get me grounded for a week.”

“More like a month with your mom.” Jose’s grin was wide and childish. Even as Elena continued her objections as they walked, he knew she’d relent. They’d sneak into Poltergeist, and no one would be the wiser. Either that or Elena would confess because it weighed on her and they’d both get in trouble.

Worth it, he thought.

Elena suddenly stopped walking. Jose walked a few feet past her and then turned around. “What? What is it?” Her eyes were turned toward the rusted metal fence at the end of what he had dubbed the weed-walk.

“We walked too far.” Her usually soft voice was barely audible. A chill ran down Jose’s spine. They had walked too far. She was right. They’d passed the turn that would take them home from the schoolyard where they’d spent the afternoon playing. Beyond the weeds, beyond the rusted gate, was an old, rundown house. One single story, covered in overgrowth, the yard filled with aged grass and mounds left by gophers long since passed, the house screamed ‘haunted’.

“Come on.” Jose looped his arm in Elena’s and urged her to turn around. As he did, all the hair on the back of his neck stood at the ready. The sudden bite in the air made his stomach drop.

“Jose?” Elena’s voice was distant and while he could feel her arm looped in his, he couldn’t see her anymore. If she wasn’t there, then whose arm was it? Looking down, he saw the knotted, gnarled bend of a tree branch where Elena’s arm should be. It wrapped suddenly tighter around his arm! His mouth went dry, his stomach turned, and while he wanted to cry out, he froze in terror, arm looped with a tree.

If he stood very still, he could get his heart to calm down. Maybe. Slowly, he moved his arm, trying to act naturally. But the tree branch did not relent and pulled him tighter. He turned and tried to yell to his childhood friend, but his tongue was suddenly too big for his mouth. The shadow of the tree-creature in the fog holding his arm turned to him, at least he thought that was what it was doing. It grew before his eyes, mighty, as if hundreds of years of tree growth were happening in mere seconds.

Then the tree bent over him, and he realized something awful.

This isn’t a tree!

He fell back onto the ground, arm released from the branches. The horrible something opened wide, white eyes and bark parted to reveal gnarled, rooted teeth dripping with sap.

His hands skid on the broken asphalt, leaving his tender palms bloodied and scraped.

“We’re sorry, ma’am!” Elena’s voice was suddenly so loud that Jose jumped with a shout. His hands were aching, and Elena was pulling him back to his feet, though her usually tan skin looked sickly and pale. She was shaking. Had she seen the tree monster too?

An ancient woman stood, holding a cane, trembling as though the effort of standing were too great, just beyond the fence. She was scowling at them.

“We have to go. Jose, what are you doing?” Elena spoke so quickly he could barely make out the words. If he hadn’t known her for years, he never would have understood.

“S-sorry.” He could talk again. He could move again. Getting to his feet, he clung to Elena’s comforting hand.

“Sorry, ma’am!”

Elena nearly dragged him down the street and back toward the turn that would provide safe passage home. Jose stopped at the end of the block and Elena tugged him forward. He turned to steal a glance at the old house.

It wasn’t haunted.

The whole damn street was!

The woman, staring beyond the fence and into the street. Not listlessly, not stupidly like people claimed. She wasn’t demented. She was looking at something. Something that no one else could see. That horrible something that Jose had seen.

The old woman, witch or not, had saved his life. Her and her haunted house were the only thing keeping that awful thing from taking over the whole neighborhood.

“Maybe we shouldn’t see Poltergeist.” Jose stuttered.