Photo Prompt: Fiction – Teegan’s Potion Part Two #amwriting #fiction #serial 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge:

HERE’S PART ONE 

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Credit: SirLounge.com

 

Tallia anxiously glanced at Teegan who was asleep on her waiting area couch. She was sure Teegan would be angry at her for drugging his coffee, but Tallia didn’t feel she had a  choice. Something was off about Teegan and the darkness surrounding him and Tallia didn’t want to make his potion rashly; there could be dire consequences.

She had found one ingredient which was odd, scrawled off to the side of the ingredients and directions for the potion for Teegan in her Aunt Willow’s tome. Apparently, the potion required a giant gold fish. Tallia wasn’t sure why Teegan’s potion would require the gold fish, but it was something she would have to leave the store to buy.

Teegan had told her if he drank his potion the darkness surrounding him, the shadow that caused a sensitive magically inclined person such as Tallia to hurt and feel pain, would leave for a long time. How long was a long time? And how old was Teegan really? To her he looked about thirty-five.

If he was as old as she thought he might be, she knew he might understand the sleeping drought in his coffee, knowing Tallia as a magic shop owner, had to be wary if Teegan’s potion involved dark magic. Tallia had no way of knowing how long he would be asleep from the drought. She had tried calling Jude, the owner of The Black Coven magic store numerous times on his cell.

Jude must be having a brisk business at his store because he or his assistant, never picked-up the store phone either. Jude was about eighty-years-old as best as she could guess. But his family magic shop dated back to the Middle Ages. He had to know something about Teegan and the potion.

Tallia checked on Teegan one more time, she hoped he’d be out another two hours at least. She needed to leave the store buy the giant goldfish as well as visit Jude. Something inside her told Tallia it was vital she gathered as much information she could get on Teegan and his potion before she set about making it.


 

She drove her Vespa to The Black Coven first. It was located in an ancient, rundown part of town dating back to the 1400’s. But those who needed to visit Jude’s magic shop, knew how to find it. As Tallia’s own magic shop had been with Aunt Willow, Jude’s place was also a hole in the wall.

The streets were narrow here and Tallia knew her Vespa would be more inconspicuous, as well as, she would be able to travel down narrow streets she couldn’t maneuver with her car. There was a bit of parking lot a block down from The Black Coven. Tallia parked, leaving her Vespa in a parking space.

She walked down to the ancient magic shop, opening the creaky old wooden door and removed her side-bag. She had placed her Aunt’s great tome in her bag. She turned the book to the correct page, listing ingredients and directions to make Teegan’s potion in the script Tallia did not recognize.

Then she called out, “Hello Jude, are you there? It’s Tallia, Willow’s niece. I’m sure you felt me coming. Was there a reason you didn’t pick up the phone? Or have you guys been extremely busy today?”

Tallia received no answer. She gazed around the dusty store, it appeared empty.”Um, Jude’s assistant, Aspen, are you here? We’ve never meant, but last time I talked to Jude, he’d said he hired you to take over from him?”

Again Tallia received no reply. She walked around the magic shop. The Black Coven was a mishmash of magical items all stored on old stone and wooden shelves in no particular order or thought to design.

Powerful and dangerous items were among those items which were standard, and pretty harmless magical items. She saw crystal balls, different statues, and a wall with ingredients for potions and spells kept in jars.

She was shocked to see certain items used only for dark sorcery. These items frightened Tallia. She could sense there blackness in her mind. They were much worse than the darkness which followed Teegan — at least she thought so.


 

Jude had always been grandfatherly to Tallia. She had meant him many times as grew-up. He often had coffee with her Great-Aunt and Aunt. She wondered why he wasn’t answering her. Tallia walked up to the counter where a 1950’s cash register sat in dust. There was a bell and Tallia dinged it a few times.

Eventually, a man about the same age as Teegan came out. He looked Tallia over and before she could say anything he held up his hand.

“We knew you were coming Tallia. It’s alright. Jude hasn’t been well lately and he’s in the hospital. For his age, he has done well until now. It’s why he hired me to handle things. I’m one of his great-grandsons, I’m. . .”

“You’re Aspen. I know, Jude told me about you last time I saw him a few months ago. He attended my shop’s re-opening. I run Fairy Dust.”

“Yes, Jude told me about you. You rang his cell, but he has trouble talking right now my Aunt told me. He had a stroke. I’m sorry I was busy when you called out in here. From what I can glean from you, you’re dealing with some sort of darkness from a client and you need some advice,” Aspen said.

Tallia nodded, “Poor Jude, that’s awful. I’m sorry for your family.” She put the tome in front of Aspen and waited as he read and reread the potion procedure and ingredients.

“These seem to be pretty normal ingredients, except for the large goldfish. But maybe the potion requires it’s life force? I’m not sure what to tell you Tallia. What’s Teegan like?”

Tallia couldn’t help but blush thinking about Teegan.”He’s demanding but seems to be understanding enough. I thought he was about your age,  when he first came to my shop. I could feel the shadow emanating from him. It made me sick, especially when he came back the second time.”

“The second time?”

“Well I pretended I was sick the first day, even though he did give me a headache. I went home for the afternoon and I hoped he’d go somewhere else. But the next day he was back. He told me he was old. My Aunt and Great Aunt made him his potion before. He was able to stop me from feeling ill, from hurting me, by chanting a few words,” Tallia said.

“I’m not sure what I’m dealing with, will the potion truly make Teegan well? Will it make such evil leave him?”

Aspen was paying attention to Tallia’s words carefully. She noticed he was concentrating. He wasn’t bad looking himself. He had auburn hair and bright green eyes. He was tall but not as tall as Teegan. He was attractive but more in a nice guy way. Teegan was definitively what women would call a bad boy. 

“Well,” Aspen said,”I think your Teegan is cursed. That’s why he needs the potion, quite badly I’m afraid. You really should hurry back and make it for him. We’ve an extra goldfish around here somewhere, we must.”

“Cursed, cursed by what or whom?”

“It’s hard to say Tallia. Jude would know more I think. Even so I believe Teegan is much older than Jude by hundreds of years. I’ve heard whispers of Teegan. He must have done something terrible in the past would be my guess. Something awful enough to warrant being cursed to live so long and to require a potion.”

Tallia sighed, letting out her breath.

“I have a feeling if he doesn’t get this tonic, he’ll be a resistant foe to deal with Tallia. There’s a reason he takes it. I doubt he wants to be who he is when he’s dark. He wants to be normal and this potion allows him to be.”

“You know all this?” Tallia questioned. “How did you know?”

Aspen smiled mysteriously, “There’s things I’ve heard Tallia. Also, I can read through you, what you felt around Teegan. I can feel his presence too, so could Jude; he’s a powerful guy. Go back and make his potion quickly. He’ll be awake soon.”

“But . . .”

“Tallia, such as you and many other magically inclined people, I have a sixth-sense. That’s how I know these things.You have one too, although less developed. It’s telling you to go back to Fairy Dust and hurry.”

Her blue eyes became huge and Tallia nodded mutely. Aspen handed Tallia a bag with the giant goldfish.”On the house,” he said with a grin. She wondered how they had this giant goldfish just lying around. It wasn’t a typical magical ingredient.

Tallia called back to Aspen lightly,”Stop by come check-out my store some time; have coffee.” He walked her to the door and Tallia stuffed the tome back in her side bag.

“I’d like that,” Aspen said grinning. He winked at Tallia as she left. She was deep in thought and was surprised to find herself getting onto her Vespa, placing the fish on the back of it.

She told herself to pay attention and hurriedly drove back to Fairy Dust. Tallia too felt she needed to make Teegan his potion and fast. She prayed he wouldn’t be angry with her or worse. With such darkness within him, she didn’t want to be an object of Teegan’s wrath.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Ancient Treasures #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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A Mixed Bag

———-

The books were torn and tattered at the edges and it didn’t appear as if they’d been read in sometime. Dust coated the tops and sides, especially the books which stuck out. At some point in their history, the books had been reread a great deal; they  had been well loved.

 Jy peered at the books on the shelf and sniffed at the foreign scent of mildewed paper in the air. He had only heard of books such as these. They were hundreds-of- years-old and Jy treasured them. Few books were published in paper except the reigning government’s: Manifesto. 

He gracefully removed a book from the shelf, surprised by the glossy cover under the dust. He turned to chapter one and started reading. This book was of the fantasy genre and Jy adored fantasy — especially fantasy which hadn’t been altered.

In his world, books were stored on computerized chips in your mind. You sat and closed your eyes, picturing yourself reading the book; that was how one read. Books were easily accumulated but you were only allowed to read approved books. There were millions available, but one could always tell when the regime had made changes in a novel, adding and removing parts. 

Jy came across a word he knew was banned. It read, “Freedom.” He curiously reread the word; his only frame of reference was that it was something of too much responsibility for mere citizens to have.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Diamanté – ” Fire, Phoenix, Light, and Darkness” #poetry #amwriting #music 


“Just Like Fire” – P!nk

——

Fire,
Scorching, Singeing.

Destroying, Cleansing, Burning all. 

Sparks inside me, embers glowing.

Remenants of yesterday dying.

Acrid smell, Burnt scent, Dusty death.

Blowing winds, Becoming but —

Ashes.

——–

Fire,

Flaming, Fluid heat, 

Interrupting life, Avenging, Lighting pathways.

Devastating the place called home.

Lighting the way back to safety, when enclosed.

Luminous candle, Glowing street lamp, Gleaming stars.

Beaming, Brighten’s with —

Light.

——

Ashes,

Grey silt, Smokey remains.

Leftovers, Burnt black-wood, Coughing fits.

From the ashes, rises the grand Phoenix.

Still the Phoenix becomes the fire.

Spreading fast, Blackening souls, Killing life.

Warmth, Hearth, 

Fire.

—–

Phoenix,

Reddish feathers, Flying past, 

Wings spanning, Soaring fast, Exploring the sky.

The fire brings the smoke to rise in plumes, 

The smoke also signals rebirth — to live again.

Light in Darkness, Glistening stars, Glazing flame.

Hope in , Glory of —

Light. 

—–

Light 

Beaming, Revealing, 

Unravelling mystery, Untwisting falsehood, Enlightening knowledge.

Shadow has no place to hide from light;

Darkness loves the corners hidden. 

Nightmares, Souls which quake, Fear Whispers, 

Gloomy, Depressing, 

Darkness.

—-

Dark, 

Twilight falling, Shaded sky, 

Creeps in Shadow, Blackening, Opaqueness.

Not a breath of light or air to spare in life;

Darkness in death, leads to despair without hope. 

Taking Cover, Teasing Fate, Testing Boundaries.

The End, Fini, 

Death.

—-

Death,

Scythe wielded, Bones rattling,

Soul gone, Decaying body, Empty shell.

The dead will rise at the end of days;

But until then, those of light stay in rays. 

Breath of freshest air,  No worries, No sorrow,

Peace, Promise Kept, 

Heaven.

—–

Fire,

Blazing inferno, Uncontrollable, 

Crisp hearts, Burnt hands, Wild fire’s agony.

Fire cooks our food, the first discovery of man;

But fire too, is life and rebirth; death is not the end.

Renewing life, Forest regrowing, Animals returning,

Hopeful for, Breath of —

Life. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Italian Sonnet – “Desert and Oasis Art” #introtopoetry #amwriting #sonnet


For the last poetry 101 post the theme is the future, and to he the form of a sonnet. I’m also using The Daily Post prompt words Glass and Desert.

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http://www.calixebe.com

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Desert air burns bleeding cracked lips; so slow, 

Annoying pain, causing heat stroke quicker.

What’s in the future, dry dust, sand sifting?

Tiny grains grating in my mouth, wind blows.

Does this desert end? Sun baking skin whole?

Am I done penance, my soul much richer?

Water, oasis found; soul weeps bitter.

Are my thoughts real? Or am I dying slow?

——

Future ahead, sandstorms, I see swarming;

Into crystals of glass where artists make, 

Such beautiful creations colours forming.

Glass in flowers; blown shapes delicate made.

Where presently, I’m in need of some shade.

Torment cease; dancing, at last, rain storms! 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

  

Poems: Free Verse  – “Chivilry is Dead; Love Lives” #amwriting #poetry


http://www.polyvore.com

———

Swords, steel reflecting light, might against might;
Who has the stronger arm; who’se trained to perfection? 

End ridiculous contestants, challenging each other, 

Coming to blows over Ladies, with medieval weaponry.

Put your duelling pistols away, live through dawn;

You combat with each other as you choose, 

It means little to me; chivalry the grim has scythed.

——-

Twenty-first-century woman, with poise taking on life.

Chivalry, extinct and never truthfully was ‘in,’

It was a gest, a game the court played for King and Queen,

Beneath the game, feigned affection reigned.

No thought for the personal freedoms of a Lady, 

No thought for the woman; she was owned.

At the hub of a wheel of chilviry, the Princess on her throne.

Married off on a white horse, to a dashing young Prince.

He a tyrant, spinning the cogs and wheels of his kingdom.

She primps, preens, performing a show;  

Accepting her Prince’s knight’s fealty; his dying love,

On battle field, the enemy soldiers ran the knight through.

Courtly manners, hide whispered secrets;

Lethal games, converging in mortality; bloody corpses.

 Hold your swords away, do not thrust or perry for attention.

The world has out-grown “pissing contests.”

—–

Win the woman of your dreams, with humour, 

Demonstrate, actual life, not fairy tales, can be fun together.

Your wife can be your lover; your lover your wife,

No having a woman pure enough for wifely duties, 

And a mistress a man loved and made actual love to.

Forget Authorian Legend and courtly love; it’s rules are lore.

Buy your own Lady gloriously coloured flowers,

Take her for a night dancing; giving a memory to smile about.

Together is being with all of your close friends, 

Together is melding your families;

Being united by oath; an agreement between you both.

A Lady is no longer the Princess on the courtly pedastool;

 A man is no longer the white knight; we’ve put to rest fairy tales.

Netflix and chill on the couch; a stately royal date,

Closing the leather bound, dusty history’s books, 

On weird courtship rituals, forced marriages, and chivalry.

More than anything, chivalry was a literary tradition.

Yet, the modern era cries; find your soulmate if you can.

Most parents finished arranging marriages,

A new way to win the bride, to win the Lady.

——

Love her for more than her sexuality, her ability to have children; 

Love her though she is flawed and not entirely ideal.

Love her forever, your heart beating for her;

Chilviry in true form; hides in the modern world.

Equality of woman and men; yet woman adore being catered to,

How lovely to be spoiled; treated as if you were special despite feminism.

Only, keep your swords and your pistols in the vaults of history, 

A game of fists won’t usually solve the problem.

Slipping in through the cracks of ice in her shield, 

Growing warmth and heat, so her hard heart beats, 

Thawing out the cold; letting spring light up her voice, 

Allowing the light in her eyes to flourish and glow, 

Hiding winters barren drought filled radiation.

Rays of light, they ignite and bring fire to her tears, 

Bring a Princess, ignored and used —

Into the modern-era; she’s your Lady, so you treat her well, 

And all her love acquire in return.

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for The Purposeful Practitioner: Wrong Horror Movie. #amwriting


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFfTPP.

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http://www.pixebay.com

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“I’m so tired we’ve been driving for hours,” Luc muttered to Felicia.

“Well there’s a motel up ahead. No nevermind. We’re not staying here honey.” 

Luc yawned. “I can’t drive anymore tonight. It’s 12:30 a.m.”

“This motel has dusty rooms crawling with roaches and resembles the Bate’s Motel.”

“It’ll be fine you’ll see.” Luc said. He parked the car infront of Reception and came back with a key card. He showed Felicia the key card.

“I’ll sleep in the damn car. If you’re still alive in the morning I’ll come in and shower.”

“If you’re sure,” Luc said. “Want to see it first?” Felicia remained mute.

Luc opened room 62 which was surprisingly clean and modern. The beds and linens were new and the bathroom had been renovated. 

He thought about getting Felicia but Luc was also fond of stretching out in a bed to himself.

——

It was 8:00 am when Luc received a knock on his room door. “Sir are you Luc Rareson?” A grisly state trooper asked.

“Yes,” Luc said tentivily. 

“Is this your car?” The trooper pointed to a black SUV, half covered up.

“Yes, my girlfriend was sleeping in there. She refused to sleep in the room.”Luc said ashen.

“What’s your girlfriend’s name Mr. Rareson?” 

“Felicia Mayer, where is she? What happened to her?” 

“I’m sorry to tell you this sir but Felicia Mayer was murdered in your car last night.” The trooper said gently.

Tears leaked out Luc’s eyes.”I should’ve made her stay inside the room. I should’ve insisted.” 

 “We have the individual who murdered Felicia in custody. He won’t tell us his real name. He was wearing an old goalie mask from hockey and says his name is Jason Voorhees.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Luc sobbed.

“No,” the state trooper said.”Ironically enough, today is Friday May 13.” 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Next To Her


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP. Also thank you to The Daily Post for the prompt word Hope

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http://www.pixebay.com

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“Why are we going in here?” Karen asked her older cousin Alicia, struggling to carry  the load between them.

“It’s Grandpa’s barn. I remember my Dad helping rebuild it when I was seven-years-old.”

“I like the vintage feel. The lanturne is neat. I bet it’s antique,” Karen said enthused.

“Ah, it’s pretty dusty and dirty in here actually. I’m sure no one has been in here since Grandpa retired.” Alicia said.

“So did you bring a shovel?” Karen inquired.

“There is a couple of shovels in here. We should bury him over there,” Alicia said quietly pointing.

They started digging through the barn’s loose dirt floor. 

“I hope this is deep enough?” Karen asked.”We should do six-feet deep, right?”

“Yeah,” Alicia remarked. “At least he’s close to her here.” Karen gave Alicia a funny look but decided to stay silent.

The cousins carried the body wrapped in blankets to the hole they had dug. 

Breathing heavily after shovelling, they threw the body in the hole and began the slow process of shovelling dirt ontop of the body. 

Karen stopped shortly.”You really think we should be doing this?” 

Alicia sighed.”Grandpa told me to do this. He told me to bury him here next to our Nana when he died.”

“What happened to Nana?” 

“He was mad at her once. In a fit of rage he hit her over the head with the back of a shovel. Grandpa never meant to kill Nana.”

“When did he tell you?” Karen asked. 

“I was there that night, sleeping over. I saw everything and helped Grandpa bury Nana. He was in shock. It was my idea to bury her in the barn.” Alicia admitted.

“I can’t believe he killed her,” Karen said.

THWACK! Alicia’s shovel hit Karen in the head cracking her head like a watermelon.

” I believe it,” Alicia said burying Karen in the grave with her Grandpa.

” You always were their favourite grandchild, cousin.” Alicia smirked. 

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.