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#Post#: 5--------------------------------------------------
Kerry's Sharing Thread
By: krymrgn Date: October 9, 2019, 11:16 am
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Hi There! I'm Kerry Morgan, founder of the board/group. I've
been working on a story for quite a while now. It is a creepy
creature mystery type. One of the things I'm excited about this
story is it has local ties and lore. In short, Aliester Crowley
once stay in Hebron I have taken that fact and ran with it. Just
one of our local community members playing with the idea of our
own "lake monster" sort of. :)
I have taken some liberties with the actual description of the
area. This being a local group you may realize as you read that
you can not in fact see the water or shore line from the General
Store in Hebron. So I changed that to fit the story, as well as
a couple other things. I some names may be recognized but they
are used fictitiously and do not reflect anyone in particular.
More represent their character until I get to that part in
editing.
Ahhhh! Nervous! Here is the prologue and first chapter. I am
looking for specific comments on issues with changing points of
view, a scale from say 1 to 10 10 being pretty great- on the
creepy factor. Is it effective or just not quite enough. As well
as if flows well and is an interesting/creepy read. It is being
edited so those types of corrections do not need to necessarily
be listed.
Thanks For The Read!
(Work in Progress)
(Working Title) Aiwass of Pasquaney Bay (May change)
Sherriff Austin Travers brain took a minute to process what his
eyes were seeing. Out on his regular morning patrol he was
gifted with discovering the body of the local nut case. The
sheer violence of the death clued him in. This wasn’t your run
of the mill gang of hoodlums claiming Fealty and Love to Aiwass
of Pasquaney Bay. Spirit Goddess conjured by the Sorcerer
Allister Crowley with painted up ritual sacrifices; no one in
his town could really do this. This wasn’t connected to any
hoax. This was real.
A twisted grin crept across his face as he kicked the bloated
face of Amy Crowley. Aleister’s Grandson and heir, father to
Edward. “It wasn’t like Edde would mind, he’d probably dance
upon the remains himself. No one talked about it, but everybody
knew there was no love loss there.”
An eye socket burst with tiny spider like creatures racing
across the decaying facial skin. Austin jumped away, his left
foot jerked from underneath him. Several vines of milfoil
wrapped around as his ankle keeping him down fighting against an
unnatural tide.
The Sherriff struggled against the pull of the waves keeping the
decomposing body bumping against his lower half. An ooze the
color of rotting seaweed crept down the side of Amy’s skull,
hair and mucus dripping upon his shoe, burning his flesh like
acid. The more exposed flesh the slime tainted the more the
spider crabs had to feed upon; infecting him with each pierce of
fang or claw. As the tide pulsed so did his agony.
*
The morning Amy’s Crowley’s body was found, strangled within an
invasive milfoil on the shore of Pasquaney Bay, Sherriff Austin
Travers was taken to the emergency room having been infected by
an unknown substance, also eating away at the body of Amy
Crowley. Austin was in the Intensive Care Unit in critical
condition at Lakes Region Mercy Hospital. His son Kelton, also
working for the County Sherriff’s office, was on duty and hot on
the case.
*
Edward Crowley startled at the notification sound buzzing
through his back pocket. He was crouched at the shoreline of
Alki Beach on Puget Sound in Seattle Washington. He was
gathering samples of a toxic algae found to be killing the plant
and wildlife creating a dangerous Red Tide. He carefully set
down the vial and small stainless steel ladle exchanging them
for his phone. Voicemail. There was only one number that would
come through his security settings when he was out in the field.
Home.
He was now waiting for take-off deep in coach in the very last
window seat. The view left much to be desired his gaze fell to
several brochures stuffed haphazardly in the back of the chair
in front of him. He reached for his home towns.
Just north of Concord New Hampshire, you will discover a natural
paradise. A sleepy rural town called Pasquaney Bay; named for
the pride and joy of sharing the great lake.
The photo stretched out the length of the brochures three folds.
Sparkling clean glacier waters, gently rippling, casting
reflections of bursting sunlight.
Centuries past, the local natives had named the lake, the place
where birch bark is found for canoes, an appropriate name
indeed.
His own memories mixed with the descriptions being advertised.
Most of the lake front was surrounded by towering birch trees.
Silvers shimmering with their golden-grey skinned bark, next to
white as bright as the moon, their leafy greens offering dappled
sunlight to the forest floors growing right to the water’s edge.
Photographers from every corner of the world came for their once
in a lifetime shot of the colors at sunset. Notoriety even
touched the town as one of the great grandmothers in the area
had been quite famous in her time.
Kaleen Adams was the great granddaughter of Evangeline Adams,
astrologer extraordinaire. Her family’s story was as famous as
her very best friend’s Eddie Crowley, but not quite so tainted.
Or if so in a different manner. Evangeline was considered a
jewel in the town’s history, where as poor Eddie’s family name
was not spoken with pride. None of the town elders had ever used
Eddie’s Grandfather’s name and reputation as a selling point for
tourists.
The last town flyer and internet ad had featured a black and
white photo of her Great Grandmother barely smiling to the
camera.
“Come sit under the same stars which spoke to the queen of Wall
Street, Evangeline Adams. Hear what they might have to whisper
to you next to the peaceful waters of Pasquaney Bay.”
Eddie liked that one better. He shoved the brochure under his
right leg and tried to drift off as the plane shook, racing down
the runway lifting into the sky.
Chapter One
Kayleen Adams stood on her back porch sipping from a hot mug of
tea. Her home sat across the street from the center of town
which offered her a rich view of the crystal blue waters of
Pasquaney Bay glittering in the sunlight. Her gaze was drawn
away from the beauty, to a mother stepping out of the general
store. Texting furiously on her smart phone, she hefted her hip
to better grip her bag of groceries. Her crisp blond hair
smashed to her head in the heat.
Tapply Thompson, otherwise known as Old Man Tap, the beloved
town’s richest recluse rocked in a wooden chair on the other
side of the swinging screen door the mother had exited from. His
gnarled staff grinding a circle against the plank wooden floor.
His light gray eyes scanned the lake, watching the scene before
him silently. His scruffy stubble sticking out from his chin
like little gray spikes, full dry lips worrying at the long
wooden pipe extended from his mouth.
The mother glanced up and saw her son tossing rocks into the
lake. Plunk… Plunk… The woman continued to meander her way down
the little concrete steps leading to the sparse parking lot. She
never looked up from the little blue screen as she dangled her
keys at the car door lock, calling out to her son.
“Come on now Maxi! Time to go!”
The boy turned after throwing one last rock, he punched his hips
with balled up fists, screaming back at his mother, “I told you
not to call me that. I’m not a girl! It’s MaAHAHAHAHAH…”
His protest was cut off mid-sentence as a blood curdling cry
erupted from his throat. His mother finally looked up from her
phone in time to see her son being lifted into the air by long
seaweed covered tentacles. She startled, screaming, and ran
toward the water desperate to get to her son. Oranges from the
discarded bag of groceries rolling after her on the hot asphalt.
Max’s face was turning beat red under the pressure of the
squeezing. The mother lifted her hands as the living slime
raised her son higher as if claiming victory before dropping
underneath the surface without creating a single ripple.
“Max!” the mother screamed as she crashed into the Bay, whipping
back and forth, searching for her son.
Max was gone.
As the shrill sound of terror echoed through the Bay, Kayleen
slammed her mug on the deck railing and took off for the lake.
“Of course everything awful would start up again. What a welcome
home!” She cursed as she scanned the parking lot up to the steps
of the store. Even as she ran she shivered. She was trying to
help, but Old Man Tap rocked on, calm as calm could be.
Thanks for the read and I look forward to any thoughts!
Kerry
(Okay I started us out...)
#Post#: 23--------------------------------------------------
Re: Kerry's Sharing Thread
By: krymrgn Date: November 11, 2019, 9:41 am
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This snip-it is from another WIP. (work in progress) It s the
beginning to the third book in The Cup and the Blade series.
Working Title: Infernal Coven
Infernal Coven
Prologue
Year of Our Lord: 1692
The Reverend Samuel Paris gathered the men together in the
clearing near Jerimiah’s cabin in the forest. The glow of the
bonfire in the center of the group cast shadows across their
grim faces. Samuel opened his arms and spoke to the assembled.
“I welcome you!” He found each set of eyes staring back at him
and approved. He spread his hands wide and turned, as if to
offer himself to the group. But they knew better. One of them
had brought the infant child, screaming his anger, his fists
flaying in the air.
“He shall be The One. Yet what we are about to attempt has never
been done before. We are the GROUNDBREAKERS” Samuel’s voice rose
as the wind began whipping the branches of hardwoods and
evergreens around them. The scent of rain permeated the air as
he continued. “We will live on through this child. He must
accept all our power and more than live. He must thrive and yae
build upon what we bestow upon him now. If this child survives,
we will send him to a time where we will rule the world with our
power. Wealth, Property, and Prowess shall be ours. Whatever
wish and it will be granted! Prepare yourselves!”
Beyond the ring of sorcerer’s a snuffling and snorting mussed
with the fallen pine needles and leaves, searching for grubs and
other morsels. His Master had been imprisoned, her child lay
within the ring of his mutilators. Creature. She called me her
Creature. His deformed body ached with each movement. Slumped to
all fours, his hands morphed to clumps of flesh with claws. His
teeth, ground down in the back of his mouth, yet the front
constantly tearing at his formless lips, pointed and jagged from
the change. As he walked, his misshapen back rolled like the
muscles of a tiger, yet bulged like a bear. What tufts of hair
remained on his body wisped in the summer warmth. His blue eyes
enlarged, dripped with infectious poison. He kept circling the
group as they worked their magic. The rage within him growing.
Each sorcerer threw his cloak to the ground with theatrical
flourish. They raised their hands to mirror The Reverend and
began chanting. Tiny little orbs of transparent black bubbles
sparkling with starlight shot from their extended fingers,
floated around the child creating a vortex of malignant energy.
As the power slipped from the sorcerer’s bodies, they changed.
It began with the fingertips, puckering and shrinking. Their
faces became gaunt, eyes haunted with the knowledge of
sacrifice.
Samuel waved his skeletal hands, and cried out, “At the time of
the last transfer, set to your minds the year 1996. Engrave to
your memory the image of mother and birth. Feel the pain of her
labor as your power shifts and is reborn to the world that
awaits. Give to the child. Through HIM we shall be reborn.”
The sparkling bubbles, like tiny floating galaxies drifted down
to the sobbing child. Each little bubble of energy hovered above
the baby’s head, then descended as if suddenly overcome by
gravity. As they hit the infant there was an audible POP and the
sparkling energy encompassed the tiny body with an inky film,
which slowly seeped into the babe’s skin.”
“Now gentlemen, think, while I summon the Master for the final
act.”
Samuel’s hands waved through the air as he began to chant. The
Creature, though fully aware and able to understand the things
going on around him, could not discern what the sorcerer was
chanting but it caused aches in his body. The temperature around
the area dipped until condensation puffed out of the man’s mouth
with each syllable. The Creature trembled with hatred.
The bonfire gave a loud crackling SNAP as it burst higher into
the air. Something began to form within the flames. A shadow at
first, if you can call darkness within a burning light shadow.
The flames coalesced into a being, such a being that had never
been seen in New England, yea on earth, and terror gripped the
hearts of the men before it. It’s eyes were dark pools of black
fire, as the rest of the wavering flames formed a torso; arms
spurt forth in a shower of embers as the head formed around the
already present lidless eyes.
Samuel fell to the ground in supplication. His hands stretched
out on the ground before him. He spoke to the earth, yet his
voice carried about the clearing. “We have gathered before you,
ready, willing and able to complete our final task. Our power
has been transferred, and the babe is ready. We ask only that
you deliver the child to the time of destiny, the future year of
1996. Let the babe be born, and we will gather before you again
when The Chosen has reached his potential.”
The fiery being leapt toward the sky, then it fell into a dive,
landing upon the child in a brilliant rush of heat. As the
flames died, and the area grew dark once again, the infant’s
screams ceased.
The child was gone.
*
1996
Mrs. Putnam was in labor. Mr. Putnam stood beside his bride, her
hand clasped inside his like a vice grip. “Come on, Honey you
can do it! One more push!”
His wife screamed as the babe’s head crowned. “I can see your
child Putnam’s! It’s coming! Push now, push!”
Mrs. Putnam gave a final howling cry as the Doctor pulled the
pink baby from between her legs. Mr. Putnam smiled as his wife
held their son for the very first time. “He’s perfect darling!
You did a wonderful job!”
Mrs. Putnam was cooing at her son, as she pulled down her gown
to bare her breast. As the baby boy latched on she grimaced,
then smiled. “You do the honors…” She whispered to her husband.
“Caleb. His name will be Caleb Jerimiah Putnam.” He smiled down
at his new born son and wife. His little son’s eyes sparkled
with a dark blue light, as he suckled and stared at his mother.
Jerimiah was filled with love.
“He’s perfect. My little Caleb.”
“That’s my boy!” He whispered down. He is my boy.
“He will certainly grow strong and proud, just like his papa.
Give us a kiss, Daddy.”
“With pleasure my love.”
Mr. and Mrs. Putnam kissed each other, then took turns holding
the new baby, Caleb.
*
Present day June 30, 2016
A darkness is gathering. Like a brewing storm in the heavens, a
creeping black mist settles upon the river. The river not only
bordered Kensie’s land, it wound around and down through to
where Caleb lived. He could see the gathering darkness and Jerry
taunted him constantly about it.
“They’re hereee…..”
Shut up! It’s just fog. There’s always fog on the river.
“But not this kind of fog and you know it! They are coming for
you. It is OUR time now.”
If you don’t stop this incessant…
“You’ll what? Kill me? How are you going to accomplish that one?
Oh you could kill yourself maybe, and just as you were to
complete the task, my energy could take your weakened state
over! Do it! Kill me! Kill you! They won’t have a problem with
me. I’m ready!”
Caleb shook his head determined to stop entertaining Jerry. He
wasn’t thinking of killing himself at all, but if he was honest
with himself, he knew the fog wasn’t just fog.
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