Tim is a freelance writer, poet, artist and storyteller. He always tries to find and include lessons for everyone in his writing.
All three of these stories have one thing in common. They all have to do something with darkness. One happens in a dark cave, another In a tomb and the third one in the darkness of ni in your dreams.
On Becoming A Dragon
The beast opened his eyes. He was in total darkness. As far as he could tell nothing was broken or bruised but he felt changed in some way. His mind was still the same but his body felt bigger and bulkier.
He wished there were a mirror so he could see what had changed but alas, in the total darkness it would be useless anyway. He laid his head back down. The sound of footfalls alerted him to someone’s approach. He sniffed the air; something feral lay in wait nearby.
Suddenly a light erupted to life right in front of his eyes. Instinctively he pulled his head back, in retreat from the light. After a few moments he cracked open one eye to find a creature he knew to be a rock troll standing before him.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” The troll cackled. “Once a mighty king. Now look at you.” The troll cackled again. “The spell the witch sold worked better than expected.”
The dragon eyed the troll wishing he would come a little closer.
“I thought you might like to see what has become of you,”
The troll reached under its robe and pulled out a small mirror.
“I know you will not be able to take in the whole of your new look, but even a small glimpse should suffice,”
The troll held the mirror out so the beast could see itself. The beast lifted its head off the floor and gazed into the mirror with one eye. What it saw there horrified it to the core. It was worse then he expected.
The beast whipped its enormous snout around and belched out a plume of flame, which quickly consumed the small troll before he could cry out in fear or pain. The cavern quickly filled with the pungent odor of burnt flesh.
After a few moments of brightness, the cavern once again plunged into darkness.
The beast lifted its great head letting out a roar filled with both rage and fear. The dragon smashed its head from side to side in frustration. Seeing no good to come of beating its brains out the beast lowered its mow back to the floor to ponder what to do next. After several minutes the cavern grew quiet,
“If we fail at this Curmudgeon you know it will be the death of us.” The smaller dwarf looked over to his companion who strained at trying to pry away a strange looking seal attached to a set of large stone doors.
The seal was set into the stone and bore the marks of a cross and a sword. Underneath the seal, etched in the elfin language, were the words “Let all who try and enter these sacred grounds learn the true meaning of death.”
“Be quiet and put your back into it. I swear if you’d only work as hard as you talked we would be done with this task and on our way already.” The two dwarves continued at their task, sweat streaming down their foreheads, mouths locked in grimaces of exertion.
Deep in their hearts they wanted this task done. Suddenly with a loud crack the seal shattered and fell to the ground. Dell glanced down to where the pieces of the seal were scattered on the floor. As he watched they started to vibrate and inch closer and closer to each until once again the seal had reformed on the floor.
Once complete the seal started to glow until the light was too bright to look at. With one final bright flash the seal disappeared and was replaced by the form of a woman in black clothing. The two dwarves stared in awe.
She was like no other race they had ever seen before. She stood a good head taller then the two dwarves and was more beautiful than any human they had ever encountered. Full red lips accented her face.
Long blonde hair draped across her shoulders. Her body was lean and covered by clothing that not only highlighted her figure but also revealed enough muscle that the dwarves recognized she was a warrior. She opened her eyes and looked at the two dwarves. Her stare was like looking into a deep dark pool and seeing no reflection.
“Now what do we do?” Curmudgeon looked at smaller dwarf. “How am I supposed to know? Maybe if we talk to her,” Dell walked up to the woman. His legs felt like lead and his mouth suddenly went dry. The woman looked down at him. The look told Dell his moments were numbered.
“Where is the chosen one? “ she declared. “I awaken only for him.”
“I don’t know this chosen one...” In the blink of an eye Dell was no more. The woman looked at Curmudgeon. He wanted to run but his feet felt glued to the spot on which he stood.
“Where is the chosen one?”
Curmudgeon started to speak but sensed to late his impending doom. The woman looked to the body lying on the floor. She turned and the door opened to reveal a strange looking aircraft. She walked into the room. The door closed behind her once again secured by the seal. The body disappeared. The room was left as it was awaiting the arrival of the chosen one.
In the Stillness of the Night
We never heard them coming. Then thousands of people started dying in their sleep. Medical examiners were baffled as to how perfectly healthy people went to sleep but never woke up.
Then survivors started to come forward who told tales of battling strange creatures in their dreams. At first people didn’t want to believe them or tried to write them off as some kind of mass psychosis. But the one nagging issue was all the tales contained the same elements.
Then scientists started putting healthy people into REM sleep to see what transpired in the dream world. The so called volunteers were mostly soldiers, like me, trained in physical hand to hand combat. The scientists felt we’d hold our own in a fight. It worked for the most part. We still lost a few battle hardened men.
Thinking back to my first glimpse of the creatures still gives me the creeps. The one I battled was a large grey with stringy long arms and legs. They had human-like faces with bulging eyes and chins. They traveled around naked but showed no signs of gender.
In the three weeks of fighting them I’ve managed to stay alive so far. It keeps getting tougher everyday as the creatures get more adept at masking their movements. They appear out of apparently using telepathy to insert themselves in your dreams.
Having done my weekly tour of duty, this is my third day without sleep. I’m not ready to do battle yet. I need time to heal, mentally and physically. If I fell asleep now the creature would surely come and finish me in my dreams.
So tired though.
Nobody really knows where the creatures came from, only that they were here. In our dreams we try to find clues as to their physical location. If we could take the battle to them. We might just win this war.
“So tired, so tired. No, don't fall asleep. Too late.
The creatures attacked in force as soon as my eyes closed. I felt myself losing. Must wake up.
I jumped wide awake. “Gotcha!, I know where your base is located.
Sgt Koihler out for now.
I write stories all the time. I like to create characters and then put them into situations to see how the story will travel along. I am what is called a pants writer which means I start to write and let the story develop as I move along.
The three stories in this article are shorter works I thought in the further might lead to longer stories. Who knows maybe some day they will. Until the next time enjoy and read on.
© 2020 Timothy Whitt