Prompt: “Wherever there’s smoke, she’s sure to follow.” Created by Lydia Jane.
The moon creatures creep forward. Silver forms waver in the firelight, daring me to extinguish the flames. Smoke-hungry mouths open, fangs glinting.
I grip my sword. Time to fight again. For her.
“Aiden.”
My heart shivers. I search for the source of the voice that once spoke my name with love. Each night, the sight of her–skin nearly translucent, pupils black with corruption, hair ashen with death–turns my stomach.
“Jade. Come home.” I hold out my trembling hand. Hissing moon creatures hover near, devouring smoke from my fire, feeding on the vapor that makes them stronger. I swallow. I’m only helping them to help her.
The shake of her head is subtle, but it guts me. “I won’t.”
The newly-strengthened creatures attack.
My blade flies. Fangs crack. Jade inhales, soaking up strength as smoke drifts toward her.
I’m losing ground. Tonight isn’t my victory. With a kick at the dirt, I smother the fire, and the hungry moon creatures flee.
Another failed attempt to rescue my wife from the demons who claimed her. But tomorrow night, I’ll light another fire, once again beckon the monsters, and wait for Jade.
Before you read the winning story, I wanted to give you a trigger warning because this story deals with miscarriage and self-harm. It’s a beautiful, redemptive tale, but if those are triggers for you, consider skipping this story.
Prompt: “You want me to stand back, do nothing, just watch the world burn?” Created by Lydia Jane.
Repeat: TRIGGER WARNING (self-harm)
Three weeks.
Three weeks of hollowing cheeks and sagging shoulders, silent tears and phantom cries.
A nine-month journey cut short–all too short.
***
She’s been gone too long.
Kyler fiddles with his wedding band, his eyes having found the bathroom door minutes ago.
All too long.
A rap of knuckles, and he presses his temple to the wood. “Pipa?”
A moment of quiet. “I’m fine.”
The crack in her voice says otherwise.
“Can I come in?”
No answer. Silence hopeful of his leaving.
The door cracks open, and he sees the red first. Sees the red and is kneeled before his wife in an instant, gently lifting the razor from her fingers.
“I’m fine,” she rasps, hands shaking as she wraps her arms in their white towels.
His eyes find hers, gentle and tender. There is a battle against fire that he wants to fight at her side.
“Please…” she begs, tears river loud.
A stained hand cups her cheek. “You want me to stand back, do nothing—just watch my world burn?”
That’s what she is. His world. Child or no, cuts or no—
Prompt: “A match struck, burning away secrets hidden by the dark.” Created by Lydia Jane.
Lylla had never been afraid of the dark, per se. She could understand the fear in an abstract, intellectual sense, but she had never felt the shiver of it down her spine, the twisting crawl of centipedes along her ribs.
Maybe it was the gentle hum of the lights running the length of Lylla’s arms, the reassurance that the dark could never swallow her entirely, but the darkness had never been other than a friend to her.
Her sister was different. Sleeping with the lights on since she was four; when the electricity conservation measures went into effect, their mother had to spend half her paycheck on candles to keep her youngest daughter sane.
The two sisters had never been close, but in the dark, Lylla ended up being her sister’s nightlight for a week or two until Mom got paid.
There was something about those nights. The sisters sat close, Lylla’s light illuminating just their faces. They held each other’s hands and braided each other’s hair, whispering confessions they wouldn’t dare share in the light, until they heard the sound of their mother’s footsteps coming in to say goodnight; a match striking, burning away secrets hidden by the dark.
