After a bit of a break due to various reasons, Drabble Wednesday is back with three new tales that tell a strange dark story…
The scorching sun beat down upon the village, dispersing the cold shadow of the mountain of the gods. Seasonal heat warmed away any chill, and a breeze played the sweet aroma of flowers along the cobblestone lanes.
Yet, the shutters remained closed, and the doors shut, the only sound of the day chanting voices echoing in the village square. The elders gathered around the altar of the gods for the yearly ritual, their knives sharp. On the slab, the confused and frightened child squirmed, but did not cry out. Not yet.
Only when the knives slashed did the screams begin…
Stark and bare with the end of summer, the forest bowed to the first cold bite of autumn wind. Swirls of air whistled between branches, catching final, stubborn leaves and tossing them to the earth. Scents of dirt and mould wafted along the lines of breeze, with a slight scent of smoke travelling from the horizon.
Shafts of dawning sunlight flitted among the trees, casting warm light to the natural shadows; a spray of diamond radiance dancing away the darkness of the night. Erasing the secrets that lay under the soil.
For nestled beneath the woodland roots, bodies slowly decomposed…
Shutters rattled in the howling gale as the snow drifted high against the abandoned buildings. Once a thriving settlement, now it was crumbling ruins, broken tile and charred stone. Only the mountain remained strong, its shadow still black and long over the remains of the village.
The fierce storm wailed, as it had for the last year, as it would for the next thousand years. There is nothing left save for frozen tears and blood stains; the people who escaped scattered to the far ends. The rest were buried under the perpetual snow.
One mother’s curse did its work well.
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