Categories > Original > Fantasy > Strange Things Happen At night
Strange Things Happen At Night
WickedQueenAvice
Three
I’d spent uncounted minutes there at his final place, wondering on what it is that I could do what I should do. As luck would have it my answer came in the wind, maybe it was just me but the wind picks up a lot and has this eerie kid of howl to it, which happens a lot around here. But it just happened to blow something into my hands I moved into the light, it was an ad for a local newspaper, looking for writers. I’m not sure why I was drawn there or why I thought it was the answer but at that moment I felt as though I was exactly where I needed to be at the exact time I was supposed to be there. How would this help me? No idea, maybe I could get the story out to others. The address didn’t look too far away, so with it in hand I wandered off to find it.
*
Alternative POV
The sun was almost up, I needed to get inside or be burnt to a crisp. I was getting far too cocky when it came to prowling and staying out late. I hurried from roof to roof occasionally looking for mortals who might see too much. But then I saw something that caught my eye. A silhouette of a woman, I could tell the long coat she wore hugged her curves and the wind caught her red hair and tossed it up making it look like fire. I had a few moments to spare, and I wanted to see her face. I slid down silently from the roof and landed around the corner, she was looking back and ran straight into me. She couldn’t have heard me. Wonder what she was looking at, she fell back onto the pavement and her hair fanned her face, she looked around for what she’d rammed into and there I stood.
“Uh, I…I’m sorry I wasn’t looking ahead.” She stuttered still on the ground
“Apparently not, tell me is the snow cold?” She looked around seeing that she hadn’t gotten up and I offered my hand to her. “You should be more careful.”
“Thanks.” Her voice was weak; she was looking at my face, good. I could see hers her skin was pale, not like mine but she had a porcelain doll quality. And her eyes were gray with flecks of green, such a beautiful face. For a few moments she stared into my eyes, as if falling under a hypnotic spell I’d cast, but I didn’t need to cast a spell to get women to look at me.
“You look awfully cold, you’re shaking in fact.” I gave her a vexing smile and stepped closer to her “Where are you headed so late at night?”
“Nowhere in particular.” She replied as if she were guarding something.
“Hmm…You are looking for someone?” I dig deeper for something from her, not sure why, she shakes her head in reply and now avoids my eyes “You should head home, it’s not safe to be like yourself.” She mouths the word ‘what’ “I merely meant that a young lady, like you, lovely and very alone, shouldn’t be. There are plenty of people who would take advantage of you.” She wets her lips quickly drawing my attention to them, such lovely lips, I can see myself kissing them. “What’s your name?” I ask hoping for at least a name
“Grace.” She looks as though she’s not sure why she answered me, she’s not afraid of me like other people are, she’s afraid of the effect I’m having on her. Now that’s interesting. I smile in a mischievous fashion. “Well Grace, you’d better be more careful.” I reach down to take her hand and move the cloth hiding skin; I press a gentlemanly kiss to her hand. She shudders slightly but I can feel it. “Goodnight.”
*
He turns sharply as if looking at something so I look too, but when I look back he’s gone. There’s something funny about it too, he was standing in front of me but I only see one set of prints in the snow as though he were standing in front of me. None that lead away.
‘Nice Grace,’
*
I keep going back to that woman I saw, Grace. How her hair highlighted her eyes, and added a luminescence to her pale skin. It’s late as I make my way back to my flat; I shut the electronic blinds so that not a trace of sunlight will penetrate my room, and I lay down with her name on my lips. Grace.
*
The suns risen a few hours ago, it’s roughly nine thirty, I keep wandering the streets I still haven’t found that address, I frown, I hate asking for help. It shows incompetence, in my eyes. But I look around for someone; a guy in a suit is looking at his phone and headed my way. I try to stop him but he blows me off, should’ve seen that coming. Jerk. An old lady sitting on a bench knitting, who in their right mind knits in 45 degrees, well I guess I just answered my question. The street sign is covered in snow, I can’t read it. A group of kids is headed my way, little Gothic bangers.
“Hey can you help me?” I ask being frank, the boys give me ‘looks’ the girls just look at me funny.
“No one can help you honey.” They carry on, brats. Kids today, I moved on and I’m now standing in front of a park of sorts. I’m annoyed and frustrated and tired and…hopeless. I take a seat on the bench nearest me, even the birds fly away. Man, that’s tough. I pull out the ad again and read it over and over:
Got a story? Need some help getting it heard? We are looking for writers with unusual stories apply in person the best story wins. 1634 Bellmore on third, ask for Noah. Deadline November 20.
I crumbled up the paper and put my head in my hands, and for a few minutes I let tears slip, it’s been a while since I cried out of shear sadness. Here I am in some foreign country, miles away from any home I’ve ever known, and now the victim of a horrific attack and lost. After a moment I realize someone’s shadow is covering mine, and I look up and elderly woman is staring at me. I wipe my tears away and stand to leave.
“Young lady,” I turn to look at her she’s giving me a mystical look like she knows something I don’t.
“Yeah?” She waited for me to say ‘yeah’
“Are you alright?” I nod untruthfully “Ah, but you’re not. Come and keep an old woman company.” She sits and gestures for me to do the same; she pulls out a bundle of yarn and motions for me to help her untangle it. “You walk like a woman who is lost, confused, and tortured.” She’s not asking me she’s telling me, so I listen in. “Are you a faithful person?” I’m quiet for a moment
“I don’t have much faith in anything right now.” She mutters an interested ‘hmm’ “I guess I’ve had no reason to believe. It seems misfortune has followed me all my life.”
“Well that’s nice dear.” She’s crazy if that’s her response, then I recognize her from earlier the woman knitting. I look around, the birds have come back. “Do you knit?”
“Uh, no.” I think for a moment and pick up the paper and uncrumble it. “Um, can you tell me how to get there?”
“Oh yes, I know where that is. Are you a writer?”
“Well, maybe. I don't think anyone would believe me though.”
“What do you believe in?” She's giving me the 'mystical look' again.
“Nothing.”
“Do you believe in love?” Love? I look at her carefully, not sure what it is that I'm straining to see in her eyes. Then I see she's serious, and I think. Do I believe in love? I can't answer her. “There.” She points to a building across the street, my eyes glance that direction and I scan the front of the building, the numbers match. That's it. I turned to thank her but she's gone. I quickly look around but she's nowhere to be seen.
“Thanks.”
WickedQueenAvice
Three
I’d spent uncounted minutes there at his final place, wondering on what it is that I could do what I should do. As luck would have it my answer came in the wind, maybe it was just me but the wind picks up a lot and has this eerie kid of howl to it, which happens a lot around here. But it just happened to blow something into my hands I moved into the light, it was an ad for a local newspaper, looking for writers. I’m not sure why I was drawn there or why I thought it was the answer but at that moment I felt as though I was exactly where I needed to be at the exact time I was supposed to be there. How would this help me? No idea, maybe I could get the story out to others. The address didn’t look too far away, so with it in hand I wandered off to find it.
*
Alternative POV
The sun was almost up, I needed to get inside or be burnt to a crisp. I was getting far too cocky when it came to prowling and staying out late. I hurried from roof to roof occasionally looking for mortals who might see too much. But then I saw something that caught my eye. A silhouette of a woman, I could tell the long coat she wore hugged her curves and the wind caught her red hair and tossed it up making it look like fire. I had a few moments to spare, and I wanted to see her face. I slid down silently from the roof and landed around the corner, she was looking back and ran straight into me. She couldn’t have heard me. Wonder what she was looking at, she fell back onto the pavement and her hair fanned her face, she looked around for what she’d rammed into and there I stood.
“Uh, I…I’m sorry I wasn’t looking ahead.” She stuttered still on the ground
“Apparently not, tell me is the snow cold?” She looked around seeing that she hadn’t gotten up and I offered my hand to her. “You should be more careful.”
“Thanks.” Her voice was weak; she was looking at my face, good. I could see hers her skin was pale, not like mine but she had a porcelain doll quality. And her eyes were gray with flecks of green, such a beautiful face. For a few moments she stared into my eyes, as if falling under a hypnotic spell I’d cast, but I didn’t need to cast a spell to get women to look at me.
“You look awfully cold, you’re shaking in fact.” I gave her a vexing smile and stepped closer to her “Where are you headed so late at night?”
“Nowhere in particular.” She replied as if she were guarding something.
“Hmm…You are looking for someone?” I dig deeper for something from her, not sure why, she shakes her head in reply and now avoids my eyes “You should head home, it’s not safe to be like yourself.” She mouths the word ‘what’ “I merely meant that a young lady, like you, lovely and very alone, shouldn’t be. There are plenty of people who would take advantage of you.” She wets her lips quickly drawing my attention to them, such lovely lips, I can see myself kissing them. “What’s your name?” I ask hoping for at least a name
“Grace.” She looks as though she’s not sure why she answered me, she’s not afraid of me like other people are, she’s afraid of the effect I’m having on her. Now that’s interesting. I smile in a mischievous fashion. “Well Grace, you’d better be more careful.” I reach down to take her hand and move the cloth hiding skin; I press a gentlemanly kiss to her hand. She shudders slightly but I can feel it. “Goodnight.”
*
He turns sharply as if looking at something so I look too, but when I look back he’s gone. There’s something funny about it too, he was standing in front of me but I only see one set of prints in the snow as though he were standing in front of me. None that lead away.
‘Nice Grace,’
*
I keep going back to that woman I saw, Grace. How her hair highlighted her eyes, and added a luminescence to her pale skin. It’s late as I make my way back to my flat; I shut the electronic blinds so that not a trace of sunlight will penetrate my room, and I lay down with her name on my lips. Grace.
*
The suns risen a few hours ago, it’s roughly nine thirty, I keep wandering the streets I still haven’t found that address, I frown, I hate asking for help. It shows incompetence, in my eyes. But I look around for someone; a guy in a suit is looking at his phone and headed my way. I try to stop him but he blows me off, should’ve seen that coming. Jerk. An old lady sitting on a bench knitting, who in their right mind knits in 45 degrees, well I guess I just answered my question. The street sign is covered in snow, I can’t read it. A group of kids is headed my way, little Gothic bangers.
“Hey can you help me?” I ask being frank, the boys give me ‘looks’ the girls just look at me funny.
“No one can help you honey.” They carry on, brats. Kids today, I moved on and I’m now standing in front of a park of sorts. I’m annoyed and frustrated and tired and…hopeless. I take a seat on the bench nearest me, even the birds fly away. Man, that’s tough. I pull out the ad again and read it over and over:
Got a story? Need some help getting it heard? We are looking for writers with unusual stories apply in person the best story wins. 1634 Bellmore on third, ask for Noah. Deadline November 20.
I crumbled up the paper and put my head in my hands, and for a few minutes I let tears slip, it’s been a while since I cried out of shear sadness. Here I am in some foreign country, miles away from any home I’ve ever known, and now the victim of a horrific attack and lost. After a moment I realize someone’s shadow is covering mine, and I look up and elderly woman is staring at me. I wipe my tears away and stand to leave.
“Young lady,” I turn to look at her she’s giving me a mystical look like she knows something I don’t.
“Yeah?” She waited for me to say ‘yeah’
“Are you alright?” I nod untruthfully “Ah, but you’re not. Come and keep an old woman company.” She sits and gestures for me to do the same; she pulls out a bundle of yarn and motions for me to help her untangle it. “You walk like a woman who is lost, confused, and tortured.” She’s not asking me she’s telling me, so I listen in. “Are you a faithful person?” I’m quiet for a moment
“I don’t have much faith in anything right now.” She mutters an interested ‘hmm’ “I guess I’ve had no reason to believe. It seems misfortune has followed me all my life.”
“Well that’s nice dear.” She’s crazy if that’s her response, then I recognize her from earlier the woman knitting. I look around, the birds have come back. “Do you knit?”
“Uh, no.” I think for a moment and pick up the paper and uncrumble it. “Um, can you tell me how to get there?”
“Oh yes, I know where that is. Are you a writer?”
“Well, maybe. I don't think anyone would believe me though.”
“What do you believe in?” She's giving me the 'mystical look' again.
“Nothing.”
“Do you believe in love?” Love? I look at her carefully, not sure what it is that I'm straining to see in her eyes. Then I see she's serious, and I think. Do I believe in love? I can't answer her. “There.” She points to a building across the street, my eyes glance that direction and I scan the front of the building, the numbers match. That's it. I turned to thank her but she's gone. I quickly look around but she's nowhere to be seen.
“Thanks.”
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