Twitter #vss365 (Very Short Stories) with Ashton & Darby ~~ May & June 2020

April < — ||

 

May 1st
Prompt: Ragpicker

“Us pixies gotta make do with #ragpicking and ratting,” she spat.

“That’s why you took the gnome?” Ashton asked.

“He was trespassing!”

“If they promise to stop, will you agree to release him?” Darby asked.

“Mostly. He may have lost a finger, or two, along the way.”

May 2nd
Prompt: Rainwater

“The water spirits are fighting,” Darby said.

“Happens with the #rainwater floods, when they get washed into each other,” Ashton said.

“They could try to get on.”

“Your home is flooded and you have to bunk with your territorial neighbors, how well would you react?”

“Fair point.”

May 3rd
Prompt: Baked

“Evanora #baked for you again,” Ashton said.

“We might be partners, but that doesn’t give you the right to open my post,” Darby grumbled.

“When are you going on a date with the witch?”

“Or know everything about my personal life.”

“Fine, but you’re sharing the scones.”

May 4th
Prompt: Bathos

“I thought you’d like this writer,” Ashton said.

“Their portrayal of the supernatural is pure #bathos,” Darby said.

“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds terrible.”

“You’d think a vampire would do better.”

“Might be pandering to the humans.”

“Even worse.”

May 5th
Prompt: Argle-Bargle

“Don’t start that #argle-bargle again!” the woman said.

“What are they arguing about?” Ashton asked.

“A woman.”

“Why did you call us?” Darby asked.

“She put a spell on ’em!”

“Dump a tub of saltwater on them.”

“That’ll work?”

“Even if there’s not a spell it’ll get them to stop.”

May 6th
Prompt: Horses

“Something’s eating #horses in Bodmin Moor,” Ashton said.

“Might be a púca, a shapeshifter.”

“Why would one eat horses?”

“There have been cases of them doing it as retaliation against humans.”

“Why go after the horses?”

“They’re expensive.”

“Smart shifter, then.”

May 7th – June 14th : Hiatus

June 15th
Prompt: Carrel

“There was a carrel hidden in the back of the library, and that’s where we found the warlock’s tome,” Darby said to the detective.

The detective looked to Ashton, who just shrugged. “I don’t know half the words he uses. Just nod and write it down the best you can.”

June 16th
Prompt: Benthos

“They’re the most likely suspects,” Ashton said

“The morgens haven’t drowned anyone in a century. Now they cultivate their #benthos gardens for scuba tours, or to sell to aquariums. Why risk it?” Darby asked

“We’ll just have to poke around to figure that out, won’t we?”

June 17th
Prompt: Constellate

“How could they do something on this scale?”

“Though it’s rare, sometimes shadow people will #constellate to form a larger entity to attack a victim.”

“Wonderful,” Ashton muttered. “Priest, medium, or necromancer?”

Darby looked around at the wreckage. “All three?”

June 18th
Prompt: Ingurgitate

“Lamias tend to…#ingurgitate children,” Darby said, nearly choking on the word.

“Hence why they’re almost extinct.,” Ashton said.

“I thought they were only in Greece, though?” the shaking woman asked.

“Most, but not all.”

“Lucky us,” Ashton replied sourly.

June 19
Prompt: Periapt

“Evanora wanted me to give you this,” Darby said, handing over the necklace.

“What is it?”

“A protection #periapt, or charm.”

“I’m touched she’s concerned for me,” Ashton said, then; “Did you finally take her on a date?”

“That’s none of yours.”

“That’ll be a yes.”

June 20th
Prompt: None — seems they skipped a day

June 21st
Prompt: Submontane

“The Oreads keep to the #submontane, or lower slopes, of mountains,” Darby explained.

“So they’re more likely to run into people,” Ashton said.

“Yes. If they’ll speak with us, they might be helpful in finding our murderer.”

“Let’s hope they’re feeling chatty, then.”

 

Twitter #vss365 (Very Short Stories) with Ashton & Darby ~~ April 2020

March < — > May

 

April 1st
Prompt: Chicken

“I’m sorry, it’s a flock of what?” Darby asked the caller.

Ashton raised an eyebrow, questioning.

Darby scribbled on a notepad, then held it up: ‘Flock of decapitated #chickens roaming downtown.’

Ashton couldn’t help but laugh, while Darby rolled his eyes at him.

April 2nd
Prompt: Kicking

“How can we trap it if it won’t stop #kicking and headbutting?” Ashton asked with a scowl.

“Be happy its wings are clipped,” Darby said, eyeing the chrysomallos, who bleated at them.

“The ram’s wool might be gold, but there’s pure murder in its eyes, the bloody thing.”

April 3rd
Prompt: Rock

“Them gargoyles was hurlin’ #rocks at me!”

“Did you provoke the attack?” Ashton asked.

The man mumbled something.

“What?”

“He said he threw a bottle of whiskey at them,” Darby said.

“What a waste,” Ashton said, cuffing the man.

“And those weren’t rocks,” Darby added.

April 4th
Prompt: Orange

“Why does this happen to me?” Darby moaned.

“You irritate people,” Ashton said. “Though, I liked the purple skin more.”

Darby had stuffed his fluffy, tiger #orange hair beneath a cap.

“Oh, back so soon, dear?” the shop-woman asked when they walked in.

Darby glowered.

April 5th
Prompt: Classic

“It’s #classic skin-walker behavior, but we’ve never had a case here,” Darby said.

“Is it impossible?” Ashton asked.

“Improbable. They’re native to the Americas.”

“Then someone brought it here?”

“Maybe, and if they did, I doubt they have anything nice planned with it.”

April 6th
Prompt: Chrome

“Isn’t #chrome a little modern for you?” Ashton asked.

“It does ruin the aesthetic,” Darby admitted.

“The broom is in the shop,” the witch said. “Now, are you here to criticise my transport, or question me?”

“Why not both?”

“Aren’t you cheeky,” she said with a smirk.

April 7th
Prompt: Crane

“This is where I draw the line,” Ashton said, squinting up at the #crane. “Dragons aren’t in my contract.”

“Technically, it’s a wyvern,” Darby said.

“Technically, I don’t care. No fire-breathing lizards.”

“They don’t–”

“Still don’t care.”

“Rent is due.”

“Damn it!”

April 8th
Prompt: Club

“Get the troll away from its #club, and I’ll knock it out with whatever Evanore put in the water balloons,” Ashton said.

“That’s not a club–it’s a tree! Why can’t I throw them?” Darby protested.

“I called bagsy, and you can’t throw.”

Darby glared, then moved forward.

April 9th
Prompt: Telegraph

“You can’t #telegraph your moves like that,” Ashton said with a jab.

“I-” Darby said, ducking away, “hardly think I’ll be engaging in hand-to-hand combat with a werewolf!”

“You never know, and it won’t hurt.”

“It does if I can’t move tomorrow!”

“Pain is good for you.”

April 10th
Prompt: Isolation

“Most of the more powerful beings live in #isolation,” Darby said idly, reading a book.

“They don’t play well with others?” Ashton asked.

“More like territorial. They need to make sure their food supply isn’t being eaten by others.”

“And we’re the food?”

“Exactly.”

April 11th
Prompt: Rescue

“It’s not a #rescue if the kelpie drowns us along with the kid,” Ashton said.

“Just distract it long enough for me to get its bridle,” Darby whispered.

“If it dives before you can?”

“Hold your breath?”

“I owe you a beating when this is through.”

“That’s the spirit.”

April 12th
Prompt: Desperado

“He’s a bit of a #desperado.”

“You would be, too, if you’d been accused of murder,” Darby said.

“He’s a criminal.”

“Of selling body parts, not of killing the owners of said parts.”

Ashton sighed. “You want to help him, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I was afraid of that.”

April 13th
Prompt: Road

“Robert Frost must not have met a supernatural,” Ashton said.

“How so?” Darby asked.

“He says to take the #road less traveled by, and that’s the best way to get killed, eaten, or both.”

“He was being metaphorical.”

“Well, he’s *literally* going to get someone hurt.”

April 14th
Prompt: Shelter

“How are we supposed to remove goblins from a bomb #shelter?” Ashton asked.

“Do you have any gold to tempt them with?”

“Fresh out. What do goblins like to eat?”

“Man flesh!” came the reply from the shelter, followed by a chorus of cackles.

“McDonald’s it is, then.”

April 15th
Prompt: Tumbling

The screeching of the children and the sprites could be heard a block away.

“They just came #tumbling out!” the woman cried.

“We are talking about the sprites and not the children, correct?” Ashton asked.

Darby elbowed him at the woman’s glare. “Of course we can help.”

April 16th
Prompt: Desolation

Ashton whistled. “They really did a number on the office.”

“It’s just utter #desolation,” Darby moaned.

“Because it’s clean?”

“Yes! I’ll never be able to find anything.”

“Well, that’s a bit dramatic.”

“Who said the brownies could stay here, anyway?”

“You.”

“Damn.”

April 17th
Prompt: Arrested

“Have they all been #arrested?” Darby asked, bursting through the door.

“Seems so,” Ashton said.

“We can’t tell Kara unless we’re sure they got the entire coven.”

“Kara, is it?”

Darby blushed, and Ashton chuckled.

“I’ll put a call in.”

“Thank you.”

“You owe me.”

April 18th
Prompt: Blue

“The British grindylow is #blue-black, has a mouth and gills similar to the brook lamprey, and tangles its prey in weeds to hold it down while it decomposes,” Darby said

“Lovely. How many are there?” Ashton asked sourly.

“Ten.”

“We’re not getting paid enough for this.”

April 19th
Prompt: Street

“What’s the word on the #street about the rogue vampire?” Darby asked.

Ashton just shook his head.

“What?” Darby asked.

“Someone like you should not use that phrase.”

“You’re circumscribing me within a stereotype, why?”

“Because you use words like ‘circumscribe’.”

April 20th
Prompt: Dab

“You’re supposed to #dab, not wipe,” Darby said.

“Do I tell you how to apply your ointments?” Ashton griped.

“She told you not to touch her belladonna.”

“I didn’t think she meant the plant.”

“You are such a satyr.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Please, don’t.”

April 21st
Prompt: Ruby

“The phoenix stone is a lesser version of the philosopher’s stone. It is still #ruby red in color, but can only heal minor wounds,” Darby said.

“Still sounds useful to have,” Ashton said.

“It’s also been linked to human combustion, hence the name.”

“Perhaps not, then.”

April 22nd
Prompt: Radio

“Dred Perception has topped the #radio chart again,” Darby said.

Ashton grunted. “Easy enough to perfect talent when you live forever.”

“That’s why vampires have their own category in music award programmes.”

“Strange name, though.”

“They’re vampires.”

“Fair enough.”

April 23rd
Prompt: Oddity

“You two are an #oddity.”

“Oh?” Darby asked.

“Fate has a funny sense of humour, is all,” she said, her milky, white eyes sparkling. “Here’s your mince pies, dearies. And I’d avoid the tube today. Going to be some nasty gremlin business.”

“I think we will,” Ashton said.

April 24th
Prompt: Damage

“He should pay for this!” the man said.

“As part of your lease you were informed a poltergeist was here, and waved #damage claims,” Darby said.

“You have to help. It broke my PS4!”

“Sure it wasn’t your girlfriend?” Ashton asked.

“I don’t have one.”

“How surprising.”

April 25th
Prompt: Mittens

“Tell your mother thank you for the #mittens,” Darby said, handing him a wrapped box.

“What’s this?” Ashton asked.

“Petit fours from Hazel’s Enchanted Cakes.”

“I can’t give her these. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Why?”

“Because I only got her a tin of biscuits.”

April 26th
Prompt: Heavyweight

“We can’t take the boggart on,” Darby said.

“They’re not #heavyweights,” Ashton said. “Horseshoe, bit of salt, and you’re right as rain.”

“The child gave it a name.”

“Well, shite.”

“Exactly. I’ll ring Evanore.”

“You’d like that.”

“This is business!”

“Sure it is.”

April 27th
Prompt: Killing

“… and everyone wonders when the #killing will end,” the news reader said.

“What do you think?” Ashton asked

“The Ripper imitated revenant attacks trying to stir up trouble,” Darby said.

“So, it’s a revenant, or a copycat of a copycat?”

“Just so.”

“How uninspired.”

April 28th
Prompt: Resurrection

“It’s a true #resurrection?” Darby asked.

“That’s the rumor,” Ashton confirmed.

“There’s only been a handful of those. I doubt this one is real.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Didn’t take you for a believer in divine intervention.”

“Like I said: stranger things.”

April 29th
Prompt: Guitar

“The devil plays a fiddle, not a #guitar,” Ashton said.

“Sugar, if I were the true devil your mortal body would have disintegrated,” she said, her southern accent as sweet as her predatory smile.

“You play well,” Darby said.

“Immortality is a drag without hobbies.”

April 30th
Prompt: Alcoholiday

“I need an #alcoholiday,” Ashton groaned.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“I had to wear a dinner jacket. And make a speech.”

“You did save those kids from that pack of hellhounds.”

“Post the award, then.”

“You’re being terribly dramatic.”

“They had no liquor.”

Darby sighed.

Flash Fiction ~~ Lost

The woman across from him was as old and weathered as her shack near the sea, and her cold eyes were the same stormy green as the chill waters washing along the shore. Her mouth was set in a perpetual frown, but her words were warmer than her countenance.

“Ye’ll drive yerself mad if ye do this,” she said, her voice gruff from disuse, but her tone soft. Knowing.

“If there’s a chance, then I have to find her. I won’t lose her this way,” he insisted. He didn’t raise his voice, but the resolve there was firm. He leaned on the table, and his tan, work-roughened hands supported his solid weight.

“She were lost long before she sought the sea,” the woman replied, softening further, but never turning away from the desperate grief shining in his honey brown eyes.

He wasn’t the first, nor would he be the last to seek her here, and she made a point to never turn away from the pain of those who sought her out. She could do no less, but no more, either.  

Just like the others, he ignored her words and asked; “How did you make it back without going insane?” He looked to the large conch shell sitting high on a shelf.

Her eyes followed his. Even in the low light offered by the overcast day, it gleamed, and the dark red lines on the shell were like runnels of blood spiraling against the pearl white.

 Her very bones ached with the question, and as she turned back to meet this stranger’s eyes, she wondered if it was time. There was a strength in him that had little to do with his stature, and more to do with the fire she saw in him. His soul burning bright through his eyes. Such a soul just might have the strength needed.

He barely heard her over the wind off the sea when she whispered; “I made a deal.”

“A deal?” he asked, his voice losing its frenzied edge as it gave way to confusion.

She didn’t answer him as she stood from the table and hobbled over to the shelf. Her hands shook as she extended her arms to their limit to take the shell down. When her fingers had barely brushed it the wind picked up, whistling through gaps in the wood and howling around the shack.

“What deal?” he asked again, a heaviness settling into his gut like an anchor hitting the seabed.

Her back was to him, hunched, but not from age. More like she was folded tight around the shell. Then, even though her words this time were not loud, they found their way to his ears all the same.

“An exchange. Do ye still wish to find her?” she asked.

The weight in his stomach grew heavier, but he swallowed, trying to wet his dry mouth before he answered; “Yes. With everything I am.”

She turned to him then, her mouth set in a soft, mournful smile. Her eyes were full of sorrow, and like the little shells on the beach that held tiny pools of the sea, the tide was more than they could hold, and tears spilled down her cheeks. When the first drop hit the wood of the floor, the wind shrieked its warning, but it fell on deaf ears. He was lost in the endless depths of her eyes.

“Good. Because that is what it will take,” she said. Then, faster than he’d imagined she could move, she smashed the shell on the floor.

It was later, when he woke, hungry, cold, and alone in the shack, that he finally understood. His eyes were grainy as he opened them, and the coarseness of the dried saltwater along his skin was rubbing it raw. Seaweed green eyes looked across the floor of the shack, but the shattered conch was gone. As was the old woman. His humorless exhale of a laugh ended in a shudder. He curled in on himself, cradling his own shell protectively with his shivering form.

The conch was an all-over pale pink color, like the roses his wife would lovingly tend in their garden, while the underside of the flat portion was the gleaming porcelain of her skin.

“I’ll never leave you again,” he whispered, the words raspy from his dry throat.

The shell pulsed with warmth in his hands, and he held on even tighter to it as the sea of grief washing along the shores of his mind drew back. Even if only for these few moments.

For right now, though, those moments were enough.