Back again after a break, with three new drabbles. Enjoy.
It lives beneath the darkness shaded in deep purples and greys, with slivers of sunshine touching its edges. The creature slumbers, nestled in a hollow space carved from the rock, the ocean’s echo splashing through its bones. It was born in the brine, chased by the storm winds, a beast of sea and myth.
A flick of the tail as it dreams, remembering the days it chased sails and ships, when the world feared its name. But those times have passed, replaced by steam and machines. No more the splinter of wood, or screams of sailors.
No more the Kraken.
Hags and Hexes
Come closer, my pretty. No need to fear this old crone. That’s right, that’s right, step where I can see you. Ah, aren’t you the lovely thing, now? So young. What can Old Granny do for you tonight?
A broken heart, is it? Your beau jilted you for another? Is it a love potion you seek? Or something… Oh. Revenge is it. Well, Old Granny can handle that too. What are you looking for, exactly?
Hmmm, I see. Ripped out that heart of yours, did he? Leave it to me. I have just the spell. By morning, he’ll be dead.
Under the Stars
The warm desert wind gives way to the night, as silver moonlight scatters against the chill. The stars are overhead, reflections of the past, waiting for something to stir from beneath the sand.
Ghosts perhaps, or guardian spirits, shadowed phantoms left to protect the forgotten ruins of a dead city. Do the dunes hide the dead, or is it a mirage? A trick of the mind as imagination plays with legends and fears?
A scraping noise, shuffling feet against stone that isn’t there, a groan carried on the wind; best not to linger under the cursed stars of the desert.