As some of you might have already known, @tcstu‘s competition has come to a close after whole 47 months of running! And what a load of fun it’s been while it was active <3
Gotta admit to something here - ever since I’ve started joining this contest back in January 2019, I’ve kept track of all my entries. And if you know me, you would guess that quickly escalated to keeping track of every morsel of publicly-available data regarding this contest So, when I heard the competition was going to end, i thought to myself: would I really let all that data I’ve kept go to waste? The answer was no.
After a number of conversations with TCSTU and other artists and writers who have participated in this event over the years, I have created the infographic you can see above. Let me assure you, it is much prettier than the spreadsheet with raw data xD
As some of you might have already known, @tcstu‘s competition has come to a close after whole 47 months of running! And what a load of fun it’s been while it was active <3
Gotta admit to something here - ever since I’ve started joining this contest back in January 2019, I’ve kept track of all my entries. And if you know me, you would guess that quickly escalated to keeping track of every morsel of publicly-available data regarding this contest So, when I heard the competition was going to end, i thought to myself: would I really let all that data I’ve kept go to waste? The answer was no.
After a number of conversations with TCSTU and other artists and writers who have participated in this event over the years, I have created the infographic you can see above. Let me assure you, it is much prettier than the spreadsheet with raw data xD
As some of you might have already known, @tcstu‘s competition has come to a close after whole 47 months of running! And what a load of fun it’s been while it was active <3
Gotta admit to something here - ever since I’ve started joining this contest back in January 2019, I’ve kept track of all my entries. And if you know me, you would guess that quickly escalated to keeping track of every morsel of publicly-available data regarding this contest So, when I heard the competition was going to end, i thought to myself: would I really let all that data I’ve kept go to waste? The answer was no.
After a number of conversations with TCSTU and other artists and writers who have participated in this event over the years, I have created the infographic you can see above. Let me assure you, it is much prettier than the spreadsheet with raw data xD
The stories below are all incredible, and any one of them could have won this month’s contest. It was a very difficult month to judge. If you are seeing this, I hope you will take the time to read the stories below and reach out to the writers if you like their stories. I know they would love to hear from you!
As a reminder, the piece for the contest is titled, “Scientia,” and it’s an example of yet another mythical being that was generated from the mind of @hydraart. If you’re into fantasy/horror art and you’re not familiar with this artist’s work, you can click here to see a vast collection of original work.
The stories below are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.
“You know I will kill you,” said the monster. “Fight as much as you want, I will win in the end.”
Anika wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go. It was just her and the monster in the middle of a flat desert. She was rooted to the spot in terror.
Anika awoke with a scream then stared at the ceiling. “Shit,” she thought. “I hate chemo dreams.”
That’s what it was, her chemotherapy dream. Each time she got her treatment she would come home exhausted and collapse into bed. Sleep was the best thing afterwards, but the monster was always waiting for her. It was always the same huge creature that eyed her with malevolence, belittled her, sneered at her, toyed with her, and above all terrified her. This wasn’t a cat and mouse game, a mouse would have stood a chance. It was more like a cat playing with an ant. Anika got up and tried to put the image of the huge merciless face, and the evil sneering voice out of her mind.
It had started with her diagnosis. The words Stage Four Cancer were now permanently seared into her brain. They started her on chemotherapy. Once a week Anika would go in and spend a couple of hours listening to music, while a litre of clear liquid drained into her arm. Then she would go home and have the nightmare. So far she had only had four treatments, twelve more were scheduled. It was going to be a long autumn.
Halloween came and went, but Anika was too exhausted to greet anyone at the door. Thanksgiving passed, but her immune system was too weak to risk getting together with anyone. December arrived, the new year would bring the end of her treatments. None too soon as she had lost weight, her hair had fallen out, and her hands and face were grey and cold. The side effects of chemotherapy accumulate as the cycles go on.
Worse of all though, was the monster. She could feel its hot breath on her face, it’s malice boring into her very soul. She always woke up with a scream.
It was after the first treatment in December that Anika noticed something. The monster wasn’t quite as big any more. Its arrogance and malevolence were just as bad, but it was noticeably smaller. A week later it was smaller still, she could almost look it in the eye. The treatment before Christmas left it barely as tall as her waist. Then a week later she fell asleep to find the creature about the size of cat. Anika smiled, took three steps and punted it as hard as she could. The creature flew beyond the horizon and was no more.
Anika awoke in silence. She felt good, happy, energized. A huge weight had been lifted from her. She still had two more treatments, but in her heart Anika knew that the cancer was gone.
’How could this have happened?’ whispered Jackie incredulously. Her brown coat’s hem twirled around her shins as a gust blasted past her. Her shaky arms lifted up, her clenched fists quivering in the cold. The roaring wind deafened her ears. Her tourmaline eyes squinted through the cascade of misty spray that blew into her face, and she forced herself to make eye contact with the beast ahead.
The first thing that caught her attention was the beast’s expression. There was a twinkle of interest in its dark eyes, similar to a leopard staring at a mouse. Its ears pointed out from the sides of its head, tapered and long. It had twin peculiarly shaped… eyebrows Jackie wanted to call them. Its chin was decorated with a curly, albeit short beard. The massive head was supported by a neck, thick and wide as a small shuttle bus.
The creature had strong, well defined forearms, which sported paws large enough to squish her effortlessly. The claws of the toes were larger than her torso, and sharp enough to disembowel her effortlessly. The muscular chest led to a potbelly, big enough to house an entire elephant.
Jackie could barely make out the beast’s legs, but its right foot stuck out, as intimidating as its front paws. The back of the creature tapered into a muscular yet slender tail. A mysterious smell of sandalwood hung about the beast’s grey fur.
The faint sound of anxious cawing snapped Jackie out of her trance. Her ‘pet’ crows, Ebonette and Soot, circled around her, trying to put up a strong front against the creature. She smiled weakly; somehow these two were the only beings that were teleported with her from the city park.
She steadied her footing, and her clenched fists tightened harder still. As she did so, the creature blinked and huffed a gentle breath.
The breath was powerful enough to cause Jackie to teeter slightly, but she held on, determined to show no weaknesses. “I am not scared of you!” she yelled. Her momentary surge of braveness was lost as her battle cry got lost in the wind. The beast let out a noise akin to a chuckle, and its body convulsed softly as though restraining itself from laughing.
Jackie’s fear turned into rage; the feeling of being treated as a joke reignited her fighting spirit brighter than ever.
She roared and ran at her opponent, her brown sneakers drumming swiftly on the unusually soft floor.
“Cease your silly antics, youngling. I’ll need stitches for my sides.“
A loud voice rumbled, a hint of amusement barely disguised in its majestic rich tone.
Jackie paused, slack-jawed at the sudden development. ”Who-“
”Me? Why, I’m your new familiar. Didn’t you get the memo from Meralda from HR?“
”H-excuse me? Who and what now?“ stammered Jackie.
The creature sighed. ”Well, easier to show than tell. Come.“ Suddenly , it bent down its head and touched Jackie’s, and a blinding white light enveloped them, and the sound faded to nothingness.
Wander makes his way across the frozen river, followed idly by two crows. He does not pay any mind to the guardian sleeping on the ice, for he has places to be, but the guardian hears him coming and stands. Wander, begrudgingly stops before the gray giant. The guardians watch, the protect. They want to know where you’ll be. “I’m just going to the next town over,” Wander answers the beast’s unasked question. “I’ll be back before sundown. You know I’m good for it.” The guardian stares down at the man for a moment before he huffs out a long slow breath and proceeds to lay back on the ice. Wander smiles and walks up to the guardian, rubbing behind his ear. The man says, “Thank you for your service,” and makes his way out.
What an incredible month! I want to thank all of you who made this final month of the contest such a success. It was wonderful reading the stories created by such incredibly talented writers that I’ve met throughout the duration of this contest. I was also deeply moved by those of you who mentioned how this contest has inspired you over the past couple of years. I am glad to know that my little project was able to have a positive impact in some small way.
I think this has been the most difficult month yet to judge. Each entry was just amazing and presented a completely different take on this image. However, not choosing a winner would make a rather anti-climatic end to the contest. So here goes…
The winner for this month’s contest is… @circees! Congratulations! I was captured by the simple exchange of affection that was presented in this piece. Something about it just spoke to me. I believe this writer may have more than one Tumblr page, but I’m sticking with the tag that this post was submitted from. @circees, if you want to direct readers to any other page to see more of your work, please feel free to link in the comments below.
I hope anyone reading this will also look for my Honorable Mentions post later today to see the other stories that were contenders for the win.
As a reminder, the piece for the contest is titled, “Scientia,” and it’s an example of yet another mythical being that was generated from the mind of @hydraart. If you’re into fantasy/horror art and you’re not familiar with this artist’s work, you can click here to see a vast collection of original work.
There had once been a mighty castle that loomed where the creature now sat, but it was long gone now, down to the dust and the remains. The land was barren and flat, guarded by unforgiving mountains on three sides, and the god that perched in its center tilted its monstrous head.
“Traveler,” it murmured, voice resounding through the mountains. The sound fell flat just short of reaching the traveler’s ears - it came back small and unassuming, as if a child were speaking. To that end, it was far from impressive, despite the god’s hulking mass, but the traveler knew better than to rely on mortal senses. “You return again.”
“I always do,” the traveler said - their own voice came out equally small and flat, but the god did not struggle to hear. “I always will.”
The pair - monstrous god, fearless traveler - shared the silence for a few moments later, eyes fixed carefully on each other.
At long last, the traveler spoke. “Old God,” they said. “I’ve come to ask permission to rebuild your shrine and city.”
The god chuckled, a sound that stayed heavy. “You always say this,” it murmured. “You always ask this. You have not proven yourself capable - you should be better suited to asking if I can move the moon or stars.”
The traveler remained stubborn, and pulled a half-stick of incense and a packet of dried apples from their bag. “For your shrine, majesty,” they said.
The god eyed the gifts. The traveler eyed the god. It is a game they have played before, but one neither of them have won.
If you saw my previous post, you know that this will be the last contest for the time being. If you missed that announcement, you can read it here. I thought it was only appropriate for me to bring things to a close by featuring my favorite and most featured artist. Virginie Juteau @hydraart is not only an incredibly gifted creator of monsters, but has also been continually supportive of this contest over the years. I couldn’t resist featuring one more of this artist’s incredible creations.
The final piece for the contest is titled, “Scientia,” and it’s an example of yet another mythical being that was generated from the mind of @hydraart. If you’re into fantasy/horror art and you’re not familiar with this artist’s work, you can click here to see a vast collection of original work.
My third and final anthology of ekphrastic fiction!
Enjoy the first two stories, and keep coming back every day until Christmas!
Huge thanks to @tcstu for giving me the opportunity and honor of participating in their contest.
This is so awesome! @evanthenerd83 Thank you for turning the stories you wrote for the contest into something so memorable! I’ve loved reading your pieces over these past few years and I think it is awesome that you created this.
If you saw my previous post, you know that this will be the last contest for the time being. If you missed that announcement, you can read it here. I thought it was only appropriate for me to bring things to a close by featuring my favorite and most featured artist. Virginie Juteau @hydraart is not only an incredibly gifted creator of monsters, but has also been continually supportive of this contest over the years. I couldn’t resist featuring one more of this artist’s incredible creations.
The final piece for the contest is titled, “Scientia,” and it’s an example of yet another mythical being that was generated from the mind of @hydraart. If you’re into fantasy/horror art and you’re not familiar with this artist’s work, you can click here to see a vast collection of original work.
This month’s piece generated some incredible stories. I chose this work of art believing there were numerous tales buried within it, and I was not disappointed. Each entry took a completely different perspective on what is happening in this scene. If you enjoy one of the Honorable Mentions below, please let the writer know. I’m sure they would love to hear from you.
As a reminder, I celebrated the new year by featuring one of my favorite artists, @hydraart. If you’ve been following this contest, you may remember that this artist was also featured in January of 2019 and 2020. This seems to now be a New Year’s tradition, and I am happy to be able to continue it this year. If you would like to see the pieces previously featured by this artist, you can view them here:
“Do not move,” Eleanor whispers to herself, thin frame curled inward.
The flapping of wings drowns out her panicked breathing. Dust swirls around. Bits and pieces rain down, and they sound like bullet casings striking metal.
Eleanor could recognize the sound anywhere. It is as familiar as her grandfather’s wartime movies. Black and white visions of the dead.
“Do not move,” Eleanor reminds herself, eyes scanning the words scratched into the steel.
The great bird passes overhead, and the entire shard shakes with its might. She bites her lip. A moment of terrible silence.
It is circling around. Coming back.
“Do… not… move,” Eleanor repeats, unaware that it doesn’t matter.
The shelter is just a jagged piece of roof. It isn’t big enough to hide her, not all of her. Not her shadow.
And unfortunately, the sun is burning in her direction.
“What is it?” replied his mother, her voice drenched in fatigue.
“Billy smashed up my 172 scale model Medieval Human Village.”
“Now Tommy…”
“It wasn’t me,” shouted Billy. “I wouldn’t do nothing with your stupid model.”
“Yes it was,” shouted Tommy waving his wing at the table. “That’s your feather laying right there.”
“Nuh-huh.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Nuh-huh.”
Their mother rubbed a talon against her throbbing forehead. It was going to be a long day. Maybe it was time to just kick the little bastards out of the nest? She looked at the two chicks arguing. “No,” she said softly, “I’ll give it one more day.”
I dug my fingers deep into the ground as I curled tighter into myself, squeezing my eyes shut in a vain effort to concentrate. This had to work- in the end it’s all I could do, whatever God that’s left forgive me. I could feel the beast looming impossibly large behind me, breath wuffing over the ruined plains like winds before a storm. A low growl thundered from its throat and I dug harder even as my fingernails protested and bent from the dirt being shoved underneath them. I couldn’t fail. I had to find them, and to do that I needed to make it out alive. To do that…
I felt it suddenly, claws slicing easily into the dirt deep enough that I’m sure someone could make a bomb shelter of it later. The tips of its heavy wings brushed the uneven ground, dragging stone and steel along as they swayed in rest. Feeling the pull of its head was the worst; it had seen me that much I knew, darting from toppled building to ruined tower to hastily put up shelter as fast as my legs could carry me had not been fast enough. It’s great shriek had nearly deafened me as it shook the earth landing just a few yards away from where I had crouched. The few warriors who had gathered to head off the beast- they all knew in their hearts they hadn’t a chance of making it.
That’s what I kept telling myself as the beast’s arm raised and came crashing down to sweep away fallen debris and lean to steel sheets and scattered weapons, armor and men alike, leaving them to try and bury themselves yet again. Collect their wits and reorganize perhaps. I couldn’t afford to give them that chance. Setting everything in motion the wings swept back, the arms came up, the eyes focused forward, sharp beak opening wide with vocal chords straining to make its signature call- and so it was done.
All at once I severed the connection, feeling impossibly small and weak and useless once again as the ground shook like an earthquake with the speed at which the beast fell, screaming its indignation at being puppeted for as long as it had, intelligent eyes snapping forward to those running for better cover, myself sitting still and forgotten for the moment in light of more easily accessed prey. I covered my ears and closed my eyes, whispering out a prayer of forgiveness to carry on the artificial wind for those who cared to hear it.
Eventually the shaking ceased, noise quieted, beast placated if only for a moment making it possible to crawl out and stand up though I dared not turn around. Sticking to the irrational belief that my imagined carnage was worse and therefore I was absolved of blame I squared my shoulders and turned west.
I had survived and would continue to do so through whatever means necessary. I would survive. And I would find them.
Maran huddled beneath the toppled roof of a ruined dwelling, sitting now upon the ground, broken and battered. All of the buildings in this tiny hamlet told a similar story; one of destruction and wrath.
Maran heaved a silent sigh. He had sent out Maran-do, his mind partner, when the day was still bright, her task to bring down anyone he had not dispatched. Very few would be daring enough to try to evade her. It would take a remarkable being indeed to slip past Maran-do unnoticed, avoiding her wicked talons. He had never known it happen yet.
Maran-do hung in the air now like a dark, oppressive shadow. She had been the foretelling of death for so many souls, Maran had long since stopped counting.
He had never imagined she would foretell his own death, too. Maran frowned, trying to recall such a thing happening before. What could possibly cause a mind-partner to turn upon its host? It was unheard of.
He knew the tiniest movement would be enough to alert her to his whereabouts. Resisting the urge to break cover and run, Maran struggled with ordering his thoughts. That was the biggest problem. Maran-do was inside his head as well as outside it. She knew his own mind better than he knew it himself.
How could he possibly escape? Wherever he went, Maran-do would go with him. Why had she turned on him? In a rare moment of self-pity, Maran gave a sniff.
It was enough. He could feel the air outside shifting, darkness looming over his hiding place like an unstoppable, oncoming storm. For the briefest instant, Maran felt the terror and utter helplessness so many had known before.
A large talon tapped impatiently before him. Inside his head, the words ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are’ blossomed into life like clouds of puffed smoke, Maran-do taunting him with his own phrase.
“Why?” Maran breathed, “Why do you turn upon me?”
More words of smoke, ‘I am to be mind-partner to a greater one than you, little Maran,’ using the childhood endearment, ‘Your mind is weak. You take much pleasure from death and killing. I belong to a greater mind than yours,’ she repeated.
She raised her foot. Maran flinched as, above him, the beams and planks of the rough wooden roof began to splinter. Instinctively he crouched, making himself smaller, as if he could avoid being crushed.
He had just enough time to wonder how she could survive without his mind to host her. Then he was gone; snuffed out like a bare candle in a blizzard.
Maran-do stretched her wings, letting out a silent shriek as her head turned to the west. A new host awaited her, a new name forming in her mind even as she rose from the earth. A path of flight was shown to her fathomless mind, stretching like an umbilical cord across the skies.
Maran was dead.
So was Maran-do.
Tethered
Written by: @wildler
I heard the spirits before I saw them—their strangled moans carrying through the smoke-stained air. Carys whinnied beneath me, her ears twitching in all directions.
“Easy girl,” I murmured, stroking her neck. “Only a little further. Should be the next clearing.”
The sound continued, growing stronger as we pushed closer to where the village was rumoured to be. I tugged the hood of my cloak from my head, sweat sticking my hair to my neck. It seemed my limited healing skills had arrived too late to be of use—but my other skills—well, perhaps I would return to the king with something more substantial than rumours at last.
We entered the clearing, the devastation hitting me like a sword to the gut. Homes had been scalped, gutted and burned. Their charred remains left crumbling into the earth. Spirits inhabited the ruins. Flickers of human outlines that cried out as they relived their violent, final moments of existence. Their fear keeping them tethered to this plane.
I dismounted Carys and pressed my hands to the ground, shuddering as the sweat on my neck turned cold. A haze of panic blanketed the site like thick smoke, making it impossible to get a sense of the events leading to its ruin. I sank my fingers into the soil and focused my will, trying again.
Sounds and smells came rushing at me, distorted screams on a hot jet of air. My eyes sprang open to find the spirits staring in eerie silence, their gaze passing right through me to something on the horizon.
I heard the presence before I saw it—a monstrous shriek carried on a blast of flame. It was an end too terrifying and binding to escape.
This month’s piece, created by @hydraart generated some incredible stories. I chose this work of art believing there were numerous stories buried within it, and I was not disappointed. Each entry took a completely different perspective on what is happening this scene. In addition to reading the winning piece below, I hope you’ll look for my Honorable Mentions post later today to see some of the other interpretations that gave this story competition for the win.
The winner for this month’s contest is…Maree Brittenford @mareebrittenford! Congratulations! If you like the story below, you may also want to check out the three books this author has published, which you can find by clicking here.
As a reminder, I celebrated the new year by featuring one of my favorite artists, @hydraart. If you’ve been following this contest, you may remember that this artist was also featured in January of 2019 and 2020. This seems to now be a New Year’s tradition, and I am happy to be able to continue it this year. If you would like to see the pieces previously featured by this artist, you can view them here:
The piece for this month was titled, “Hide and Seek.” Here it is with the winning story below:
It was a soggy, sullen sort of war. Fought over a piece of land that neither side actually wanted.
If their leaders were in a saner place then the grim swampy valley could’ve been deemed no man’s land, and left as a natural barrier between the two nations.
Instead they pushed and pulled at each other and when they gained a little ground they tried to build fortifications on the slightly firmer islands that rose a few inches above the water.
Ethel was no patriot. She didn’t see the point of wasting so many lives over such a place. All she wanted was to live a quiet life, but she was forced into the conflict, just like so many others.
Search and Rescue was what she was supposed to be doing. But it was a joke. She searched, but there was no rescue. The ones she carried back were either thrown back into the conflict or executed, depending on the colors they wore. The ones who were injured were supposed to get some kind of treatment. Mostly they just died.
The wind currents were brutal as she walked into the narrow pass between the mountains. It was part of what made the valley so unusual. Of course if a bird gained enough height they could fly across, but to get access to the valley one had to walk through the pass. It was too dangerous otherwise.
She was soon able to take flight over the mist that swooped and swirled through the valley, as if the spirits of all those killed were lingering.
She had to angle down low to even see anything through the mist, cutting dangerously close to the ground, and dodging the few spindly trees that suddenly appeared out of the mist ready to cut her down.
A movement caught her eye and she banked to investigate. Ethel’s landing on the spongey ground was silent, as silent as her wing strokes.
It wasn’t a bird, it was one of the little creatures. It cowered in the ruins of an old fort. The valley was infested with them, and most of the larger birds of prey considered them convenient snacks, but something about the way they acted troubled Ethel. She didn’t like food that looked at her with so much intelligence in it’s eyes. So she pretended not to see it and took flight again.
Perhaps some day, when the endless war was over the little creatures might make something of themselves, down there in the valley.
What an incredible month! I want to thank all of you who made this final month of the contest such a success. It was wonderful reading the stories created by such incredibly talented writers that I’ve met throughout the duration of this contest. I was also deeply moved by those of you who mentioned how this contest has inspired you over the past couple of years. I am glad to know that my little project was able to have a positive impact in some small way.
I think this has been the most difficult month yet to judge. Each entry was just amazing and presented a completely different take on this image. However, not choosing a winner would make a rather anti-climatic end to the contest. So here goes…
The winner for this month’s contest is… @circees! Congratulations! I was captured by the simple exchange of affection that was presented in this piece. Something about it just spoke to me. I believe this writer may have more than one Tumblr page, but I’m sticking with the tag that this post was submitted from. @circees, if you want to direct readers to any other page to see more of your work, please feel free to link in the comments below.
I hope anyone reading this will also look for my Honorable Mentions post later today to see the other stories that were contenders for the win.
As a reminder, the piece for the contest is titled, “Scientia,” and it’s an example of yet another mythical being that was generated from the mind of @hydraart. If you’re into fantasy/horror art and you’re not familiar with this artist’s work, you can click here to see a vast collection of original work.
There had once been a mighty castle that loomed where the creature now sat, but it was long gone now, down to the dust and the remains. The land was barren and flat, guarded by unforgiving mountains on three sides, and the god that perched in its center tilted its monstrous head.
“Traveler,” it murmured, voice resounding through the mountains. The sound fell flat just short of reaching the traveler’s ears - it came back small and unassuming, as if a child were speaking. To that end, it was far from impressive, despite the god’s hulking mass, but the traveler knew better than to rely on mortal senses. “You return again.”
“I always do,” the traveler said - their own voice came out equally small and flat, but the god did not struggle to hear. “I always will.”
The pair - monstrous god, fearless traveler - shared the silence for a few moments later, eyes fixed carefully on each other.
At long last, the traveler spoke. “Old God,” they said. “I’ve come to ask permission to rebuild your shrine and city.”
The god chuckled, a sound that stayed heavy. “You always say this,” it murmured. “You always ask this. You have not proven yourself capable - you should be better suited to asking if I can move the moon or stars.”
The traveler remained stubborn, and pulled a half-stick of incense and a packet of dried apples from their bag. “For your shrine, majesty,” they said.
The god eyed the gifts. The traveler eyed the god. It is a game they have played before, but one neither of them have won.
They do not speak for a very long time.
Congratulation@circees for winning this contest! I ABSOLUTELY love what you came up with! Thank you so much for participating!
The stories below are all incredible, and any one of them could have won this month’s contest. It was a very difficult month to judge. If you are seeing this, I hope you will take the time to read the stories below and reach out to the writers if you like their stories. I know they would love to hear from you!
As a reminder, the piece for the contest is titled, “Scientia,” and it’s an example of yet another mythical being that was generated from the mind of @hydraart. If you’re into fantasy/horror art and you’re not familiar with this artist’s work, you can click here to see a vast collection of original work.
The stories below are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.
“You know I will kill you,” said the monster. “Fight as much as you want, I will win in the end.”
Anika wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go. It was just her and the monster in the middle of a flat desert. She was rooted to the spot in terror.
Anika awoke with a scream then stared at the ceiling. “Shit,” she thought. “I hate chemo dreams.”
That’s what it was, her chemotherapy dream. Each time she got her treatment she would come home exhausted and collapse into bed. Sleep was the best thing afterwards, but the monster was always waiting for her. It was always the same huge creature that eyed her with malevolence, belittled her, sneered at her, toyed with her, and above all terrified her. This wasn’t a cat and mouse game, a mouse would have stood a chance. It was more like a cat playing with an ant. Anika got up and tried to put the image of the huge merciless face, and the evil sneering voice out of her mind.
It had started with her diagnosis. The words Stage Four Cancer were now permanently seared into her brain. They started her on chemotherapy. Once a week Anika would go in and spend a couple of hours listening to music, while a litre of clear liquid drained into her arm. Then she would go home and have the nightmare. So far she had only had four treatments, twelve more were scheduled. It was going to be a long autumn.
Halloween came and went, but Anika was too exhausted to greet anyone at the door. Thanksgiving passed, but her immune system was too weak to risk getting together with anyone. December arrived, the new year would bring the end of her treatments. None too soon as she had lost weight, her hair had fallen out, and her hands and face were grey and cold. The side effects of chemotherapy accumulate as the cycles go on.
Worse of all though, was the monster. She could feel its hot breath on her face, it’s malice boring into her very soul. She always woke up with a scream.
It was after the first treatment in December that Anika noticed something. The monster wasn’t quite as big any more. Its arrogance and malevolence were just as bad, but it was noticeably smaller. A week later it was smaller still, she could almost look it in the eye. The treatment before Christmas left it barely as tall as her waist. Then a week later she fell asleep to find the creature about the size of cat. Anika smiled, took three steps and punted it as hard as she could. The creature flew beyond the horizon and was no more.
Anika awoke in silence. She felt good, happy, energized. A huge weight had been lifted from her. She still had two more treatments, but in her heart Anika knew that the cancer was gone.
’How could this have happened?’ whispered Jackie incredulously. Her brown coat’s hem twirled around her shins as a gust blasted past her. Her shaky arms lifted up, her clenched fists quivering in the cold. The roaring wind deafened her ears. Her tourmaline eyes squinted through the cascade of misty spray that blew into her face, and she forced herself to make eye contact with the beast ahead.
The first thing that caught her attention was the beast’s expression. There was a twinkle of interest in its dark eyes, similar to a leopard staring at a mouse. Its ears pointed out from the sides of its head, tapered and long. It had twin peculiarly shaped… eyebrows Jackie wanted to call them. Its chin was decorated with a curly, albeit short beard. The massive head was supported by a neck, thick and wide as a small shuttle bus.
The creature had strong, well defined forearms, which sported paws large enough to squish her effortlessly. The claws of the toes were larger than her torso, and sharp enough to disembowel her effortlessly. The muscular chest led to a potbelly, big enough to house an entire elephant.
Jackie could barely make out the beast’s legs, but its right foot stuck out, as intimidating as its front paws. The back of the creature tapered into a muscular yet slender tail. A mysterious smell of sandalwood hung about the beast’s grey fur.
The faint sound of anxious cawing snapped Jackie out of her trance. Her ‘pet’ crows, Ebonette and Soot, circled around her, trying to put up a strong front against the creature. She smiled weakly; somehow these two were the only beings that were teleported with her from the city park.
She steadied her footing, and her clenched fists tightened harder still. As she did so, the creature blinked and huffed a gentle breath.
The breath was powerful enough to cause Jackie to teeter slightly, but she held on, determined to show no weaknesses. “I am not scared of you!” she yelled. Her momentary surge of braveness was lost as her battle cry got lost in the wind. The beast let out a noise akin to a chuckle, and its body convulsed softly as though restraining itself from laughing.
Jackie’s fear turned into rage; the feeling of being treated as a joke reignited her fighting spirit brighter than ever.
She roared and ran at her opponent, her brown sneakers drumming swiftly on the unusually soft floor.
“Cease your silly antics, youngling. I’ll need stitches for my sides.“
A loud voice rumbled, a hint of amusement barely disguised in its majestic rich tone.
Jackie paused, slack-jawed at the sudden development. ”Who-“
”Me? Why, I’m your new familiar. Didn’t you get the memo from Meralda from HR?“
”H-excuse me? Who and what now?“ stammered Jackie.
The creature sighed. ”Well, easier to show than tell. Come.“ Suddenly , it bent down its head and touched Jackie’s, and a blinding white light enveloped them, and the sound faded to nothingness.
Wander makes his way across the frozen river, followed idly by two crows. He does not pay any mind to the guardian sleeping on the ice, for he has places to be, but the guardian hears him coming and stands. Wander, begrudgingly stops before the gray giant. The guardians watch, the protect. They want to know where you’ll be. “I’m just going to the next town over,” Wander answers the beast’s unasked question. “I’ll be back before sundown. You know I’m good for it.” The guardian stares down at the man for a moment before he huffs out a long slow breath and proceeds to lay back on the ice. Wander smiles and walks up to the guardian, rubbing behind his ear. The man says, “Thank you for your service,” and makes his way out.
Hey people, check out those AMAZING stories inspired of my illustration. I love reading what people come up with <3
