“Okay Nicola, you can go play now.” Helene informed her daughter.
“Bye Nicola, maybe I can play with you next time.” I tell the retreating child.
She turns around, innocent brown eyes twinkling, and waves goodbye.
Looking
at her soft auburn curls, chubby cheeks, and dimples it would be hard
to think she was anything but a sweet little girl who lisps a little on
her ‘s’. She was sweet, that much is true, but she wasn't a little girl.
“She” was something else. She might look like a little girl and talk
like a little girl, but she sure as heck wasn't one.
Nicola
was a changeling: A child of the fae, handed to human parents to be
raised in place of their own babies. Not that she knew this, Nicola
believed she was the human child of Helene and Dan. Unfortunately, as
she grew, her parents couldn’t help noticing a few odd things.
The
first was Nicola’s shadow; it wasn’t attached to her the way it should
be. Instead it seemed to be almost independent of her. It was Helene who
first noted it-Nicola was picking flowers in the garden while her
shadow was playing with the shadows of leaves. At first Helene had
thought it was her imagination, but more and more instances occurred.
The
next were the insects: The fire, dragon and butter flies all loved
Nicola. They would tell the child stories of their day, and Nicola would
respond with her own stories. They followed her everywhere, Helene and
Dan were constantly shooing butterflies out of her hair. Whenever it was
time for bed, turning out the lights was useless as hundreds of
fireflies would light up Nicola’s room. The girl was constantly followed
by the hum of dragonfly wings, giving background noise to any silent
time.
There were other signs as well. That’s why I was called in. Helene and Dan wanted to understand what was happening.
“She’s a changeling alright, no doubt about it.” I tell Helene and Dan, once Nicola is back in her playroom.
“What’s that mean?” Dan asks.
“It means your child isn’t your child. She’s a faerie.” I reply flatly.
“What? That’s insane!” Helene says in disbelief.
“It
is,” I agree, “But it’s still true. And judging by the tests I put her
through, she’s not just any changeling. She’s the child of Fae
nobility.”
“So, what do we do? Where’s our actual Nicola?” Dan asks.
“For
now, do nothing. Treat Nicola as you always have. I’m going to do some
research, and I’ll get back to you. Remember, she doesn’t know what she
is and it’s important she doesn’t find out.” I warn.
“When will we hear from you?” Helene questions.
“I’m
not sure, I’m hoping in a week but it could be a little longer.” I say.
I grab my coat and hat and say goodbye. I’m not sure what I’m supposed
to do for this case, but it will be a doozy for sure. The big questions
are: Where is the human Nicola? Would she want to leave wherever she is?
And lastly, what are we going to do with the changeling?
Sunday, October 25, 2015
OCTOBER 22nd- "Alone one night, I couldn't find my phone. It finally rang and the voice on the other end simply said: "You're welcome."
Alone one night, I couldn't find my phone. It finally rang and the voice on the other end simply said: "You're welcome."
My sister must have got my Facebook message: "Call my phone, I can't find it!"
What would we do without the internet?
(This one was done and done!)
My sister must have got my Facebook message: "Call my phone, I can't find it!"
What would we do without the internet?
(This one was done and done!)
OCTOBER 21st-"The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door..."
The
last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door.
He didn't bother answering it. It wasn’t as if he was surprised by the
knock, it came every week around this time. It also didn’t matter if he
opened it; the knock was just an illusion
of privacy. If he didn’t let his handler in, the handler would just use
his own keys. There was another knock, this one more impatient. The
last man on Earth sighed and went to answer it.
“Feeding time.” A voice on the other side of the door stated, and thrust a box of nutrient pouches and other treats into the man’s arms. The last man on Earth shut the door, and set the box down. He went back to his couch and to his daydreaming of a time when the Earth was full of humans, and not ruled by an alien race from the thirteenth galaxy.
“Feeding time.” A voice on the other side of the door stated, and thrust a box of nutrient pouches and other treats into the man’s arms. The last man on Earth shut the door, and set the box down. He went back to his couch and to his daydreaming of a time when the Earth was full of humans, and not ruled by an alien race from the thirteenth galaxy.
OCTOBER 20th- "There was a picture of me sleeping on my phone. I live alone."
“Nice
photo, super dramatic. What kind of filter did you use?” Ashley asks,
admiring the shot on my phone. It’s black and white, and has a shadowy
feel to it.
“You’re not listening to me dude.” I respond, “I’m passed out!”
“Yeah, so what?” Ash questions.
“Who would have taken this photo?” I ask.
Ashley gets ready to respond sarcastically, but stops as what I’ve said hits her. Her face has a mix of shock and apprehension on it.
“Are you screwing with me right now? Because you know I scare easily!” She finally says.
“I know. That’s why I’m showing you this. I know how seriously you take this stuff.” I say with no trace of joking. I take the phone back and stare at the screen trying not to shiver. There is a picture of me sleeping on my phone. I live alone, as in no one else is there. No one could take that photo of me.
“I checked for intruders after I saw it.” I continue, gesturing towards the phone. “There was nothing out of place, the doors and windows were untouched, and I’m pretty sure I’d have heard something at night.”
“Crap. Are you sure you didn’t fall asleep while someone was over?” Ash asks.
“I think I’d remember I had company.” I retort.
“Crap.” Ashley states again.
“That’s not even the worst part,” I say, “Look at this text I got.” I click on my message icon and hand the phone back to her. Ashley’s eyes scan over the text.
“WTF.” She states flatly. She hands my phone back to me like it will burn her.
“Yup. There's no number that goes with it either. I was going to text back an angry message, but nothing. What do you think it means?” I ask her.
“It means you need help. Like ghostbuster help.” She replies.
“There are no such thing as-“ I start.
“Then explain this? You said yourself you’re telling me because I believe in this stuff. Well, I believe in it for a reason. You need help.” Ash says firmly. I can tell she won’t budge from her stance, and I’m relieved I went to her instead of someone else. I knew she would take me seriously.
“Okay,” I say, “Suppose there is such thing as ghosts and stuff…Who do you even go to?”
“I know a guy. Or, I know a guy who knows a guy. I think his name is Michael Cross, he considers himself a paranormal investigator.” Ashley answers.
“So?”
“Don’t worry, I’m on it. I’ll try to get back to you tonight. If that message is real, and that photo is not by someone you know, we need this Michael ASAP.”
“Thanks Ash.” I say, gratefully. Ashley waves goodbye and leaves to contact her friend, apparently he’s “off the grid” and doesn’t believe in phones. Thinking of my phone, I don’t blame him.
I look down at the unnerving photo, and the text that’s even worse. I read the words one more time, filling with more dread after each one.
‘I see you! In three days, you’ll see me too. If you don’t and I’m here first, you’re all mine you’ve been cursed. So say goodbye and pray to heaven, and be very afraid of 12:07.’
“You’re not listening to me dude.” I respond, “I’m passed out!”
“Yeah, so what?” Ash questions.
“Who would have taken this photo?” I ask.
Ashley gets ready to respond sarcastically, but stops as what I’ve said hits her. Her face has a mix of shock and apprehension on it.
“Are you screwing with me right now? Because you know I scare easily!” She finally says.
“I know. That’s why I’m showing you this. I know how seriously you take this stuff.” I say with no trace of joking. I take the phone back and stare at the screen trying not to shiver. There is a picture of me sleeping on my phone. I live alone, as in no one else is there. No one could take that photo of me.
“I checked for intruders after I saw it.” I continue, gesturing towards the phone. “There was nothing out of place, the doors and windows were untouched, and I’m pretty sure I’d have heard something at night.”
“Crap. Are you sure you didn’t fall asleep while someone was over?” Ash asks.
“I think I’d remember I had company.” I retort.
“Crap.” Ashley states again.
“That’s not even the worst part,” I say, “Look at this text I got.” I click on my message icon and hand the phone back to her. Ashley’s eyes scan over the text.
“WTF.” She states flatly. She hands my phone back to me like it will burn her.
“Yup. There's no number that goes with it either. I was going to text back an angry message, but nothing. What do you think it means?” I ask her.
“It means you need help. Like ghostbuster help.” She replies.
“There are no such thing as-“ I start.
“Then explain this? You said yourself you’re telling me because I believe in this stuff. Well, I believe in it for a reason. You need help.” Ash says firmly. I can tell she won’t budge from her stance, and I’m relieved I went to her instead of someone else. I knew she would take me seriously.
“Okay,” I say, “Suppose there is such thing as ghosts and stuff…Who do you even go to?”
“I know a guy. Or, I know a guy who knows a guy. I think his name is Michael Cross, he considers himself a paranormal investigator.” Ashley answers.
“So?”
“Don’t worry, I’m on it. I’ll try to get back to you tonight. If that message is real, and that photo is not by someone you know, we need this Michael ASAP.”
“Thanks Ash.” I say, gratefully. Ashley waves goodbye and leaves to contact her friend, apparently he’s “off the grid” and doesn’t believe in phones. Thinking of my phone, I don’t blame him.
I look down at the unnerving photo, and the text that’s even worse. I read the words one more time, filling with more dread after each one.
‘I see you! In three days, you’ll see me too. If you don’t and I’m here first, you’re all mine you’ve been cursed. So say goodbye and pray to heaven, and be very afraid of 12:07.’
OCTOBER 19th-"After working a hard day, I came home to see my girlfriend cradling our child. I don't know what scared me the most, seeing my dead girlfriend and still-born child, or knowing that someone broke into my apartment and placed them there."
After
working a long, hard, day, I came home to see my girlfriend cradling
our child. I don't know what scared me the most, seeing my dead
girlfriend and still-born child, or knowing that someone broke into my
home and placed them there.
I slowly sneak into my kitchen, as quietly as I can. They didn’t notice my entrance, which means I have some time before the woman I love, and our unborn child decide I look tasty.
I grab a hunting knife from the kitchen drawer, and ammo to reload my gun. I can hear Robyn moaning in the living room. I’m not sure if the baby is undead, or regular dead, but she hasn’t let go of it since she turned.
I wonder how they could have got here? (My house is heavily disguised and booby-trapped!) Who would do that? Then it hits me: Ariel. She thinks I’ve gone soft since I lost Robyn. She thinks I should have put them both, Robyn and the baby, out of their misery once the turning started. She’s not wrong. I always vowed I would, I promised it. It would be more humane than letting them become those mindless, decaying, flesh eating freaks. I’ve killed so many of them: Bullets to heads, machetes hacking necks, baseball bats smashing faces. It’s what I do, and to me it’s easy. It wasn’t that easy when it happened to Robyn though. I couldn’t believe it at first, and the longing for the future we hoped for prevented me from doing what I needed to, when I needed to. It's time to fix that mistake.
I cock the gun and walk out, “Sorry I took so long love.” And before she can move, I fire two bullets. It’s done. All I wanted was to relax after a long day of zombie hunting, you can bet Ariel’s going to pay for this one; even if it was needed.
I slowly sneak into my kitchen, as quietly as I can. They didn’t notice my entrance, which means I have some time before the woman I love, and our unborn child decide I look tasty.
I grab a hunting knife from the kitchen drawer, and ammo to reload my gun. I can hear Robyn moaning in the living room. I’m not sure if the baby is undead, or regular dead, but she hasn’t let go of it since she turned.
I wonder how they could have got here? (My house is heavily disguised and booby-trapped!) Who would do that? Then it hits me: Ariel. She thinks I’ve gone soft since I lost Robyn. She thinks I should have put them both, Robyn and the baby, out of their misery once the turning started. She’s not wrong. I always vowed I would, I promised it. It would be more humane than letting them become those mindless, decaying, flesh eating freaks. I’ve killed so many of them: Bullets to heads, machetes hacking necks, baseball bats smashing faces. It’s what I do, and to me it’s easy. It wasn’t that easy when it happened to Robyn though. I couldn’t believe it at first, and the longing for the future we hoped for prevented me from doing what I needed to, when I needed to. It's time to fix that mistake.
I cock the gun and walk out, “Sorry I took so long love.” And before she can move, I fire two bullets. It’s done. All I wanted was to relax after a long day of zombie hunting, you can bet Ariel’s going to pay for this one; even if it was needed.
 |
| https://ca.news.yahoo.com/blogs/daily-buzz/looking-for-some-halloween-fun--try-being-locked-in-a-room-with-a-zombie-153702826.html |
OCTOBER 18th-"My daughter won't stop crying and screaming in the middle of the night. I visit her grave and ask her to stop, but it doesn't help."
The
clock is ticking loudly, as the night gets darker. The hour’s late
enough that the television program, I’m not even watching, is an
infomercial for a blender.
I stifle a yawn, and contemplate taking an advil to ease the throbbing pain behind my eyes. Another sleepless night, filled with heartache and tears, and a slew of people incapable of performing simple actions without an unnecessary gadget.
“WWWWAAAAHHHH!!!!”
I clench the teddy bear I’ve been holding a little tighter. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself again. I can’t stop the pangs of pain coursing through my heart. My poor daughter: My daughter won't stop crying and screaming in the middle of the night. I visit her grave and ask her to stop, but it doesn't help. She’s lonely, and sad, and missing Mr. Bear and her mom.
“AHHHAAAA!!!!! WAAHHH!”
Another shot to the heart. I don’t know what to do. I’ve sat all night by her grave, reading the bedtime stories I used to read when she was alive. I’ve placed Mr. Bear at her grave then when that failed I brought him back. I couldn’t bear to part with him. I’ve found a number for a woman who says she can help with this kind of stuff. Apparently she’s an expert. I hope so, I can’t take this anymore and I’m going to comfort my baby even if it kills me.
I stifle a yawn, and contemplate taking an advil to ease the throbbing pain behind my eyes. Another sleepless night, filled with heartache and tears, and a slew of people incapable of performing simple actions without an unnecessary gadget.
“WWWWAAAAHHHH!!!!”
I clench the teddy bear I’ve been holding a little tighter. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself again. I can’t stop the pangs of pain coursing through my heart. My poor daughter: My daughter won't stop crying and screaming in the middle of the night. I visit her grave and ask her to stop, but it doesn't help. She’s lonely, and sad, and missing Mr. Bear and her mom.
“AHHHAAAA!!!!! WAAHHH!”
Another shot to the heart. I don’t know what to do. I’ve sat all night by her grave, reading the bedtime stories I used to read when she was alive. I’ve placed Mr. Bear at her grave then when that failed I brought him back. I couldn’t bear to part with him. I’ve found a number for a woman who says she can help with this kind of stuff. Apparently she’s an expert. I hope so, I can’t take this anymore and I’m going to comfort my baby even if it kills me.
OCTOBER 17th-"I never go to sleep, but I keep waking up."
This post has been temporarily removed.
It has become the basis and prologue to my NaNoWriMo novel.
It has become the basis and prologue to my NaNoWriMo novel.
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