Flights of Delusion
by
Ellie Potts
|
The Crying Stranger
A luminous glow radiated around
the silent figure. Her white skin untainted by the sun’s harsh touch, as her
eyes twinkled like fiery green emeralds. Her straight calf length auburn hair
flowed around her like a red veil. Her natural crimson lips moved as she sang
to herself. The song seemed so right on this dark dreary night.
She walked through the darkness
unafraid of anything around her. She had no worries. The millions of stars
burned brightly above her small head. Her feet bare amongst the new spring
grass made her feel almost alive. She stopped. Bending her head slightly to the
left, she listened. The small night sounds were so crisped to her elfin ears.
She listened through the sounds until she heard it. The call.
Cestoda
Bobbie found himself hiding in the
dark, noises and screams all around him. His heart hammered hard in his chest.
Think you idiot, he said. He moved the plastic aside for a small peek under the
table he hid under. The sun had started to set about half an hour ago. The
sight of everyone tripping or jumping over the dead bodies seemed almost
unnerving. He was so glad the acid trip was over.
Two other people slipped under the
table. He moved to the very edge, scared. They too were frightened by the sight
of him. No one said anything for some time. They just stared at each other
while the screaming and the scuff of shoes passed by. A loud shriek filled the
air, which made him think of Sky. Bobbie tried to think back to how he had
gotten here. Fucking weird day.
Windigo
Eating
the flesh of another is said to steal their essence to become more of what I
am. It’s a half truth, I have become more powerful but in a way that is making
me less human more animal. I don’t mind it really; the animal part is a relief
from the human in me who finds it disturbing to eat a fellow person.
The Native Americans call creatures
like me Windigos. I went to the library one evening after work and looked it
up. Again half truths, is all I found. I know what I am or rather what I’ve
done and need. There it says a person who gives themselves freely to that of
the Windigo will go into the forest for seven days and fast and sacrifice
themselves to the spirit of the Windigo. That isn’t what happened to me.
The Job
May you walk through the raining pools
of blood, and dance on the guts of your victims.
The
words floated to the top of her head. She had been given a job, a good job, a
job she knew she could really do. A job she had been dreaming for since she
could remember. Remember since when? Lucifer had explained her duties, and she
planned on doing her very best. To show not only Lucifer, but his other
head-honchos that he chose well.
Raining pools of blood.
Author Bio:
Somebody told Ellie Potts you had to be rich to be eccentric otherwise you were just crazy. She set out to prove them wrong doing things she was told she couldn't do like dressing like a pirate, get her books published, playing video games, planning to survive a zombie apocalypse, and other antics most women stay away from. Her love of books motivates her and movies captivate her. She loves almost everything from Disney to George Romero. She lives in California's Central Valley where most of her stories and books take place. Her and her husband are owned by their attack Bugg, and her two red eared slider turtle minions who live in the backyard.
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