First Line Friday: Fiction – Stenham House #amwriting #fiction #FLF


Thanks to Dylan of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s FLF.

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Credit: http://bigproof.ru

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“Stenham house was an ancient locked thing and nothing returned there except for crows.” 

Lost in the forest Marybeth was charmed by the crumbling facade of the ancient mansion. She wondered what the house looked like on the inside as she slipped through the rungs of a creaky black gate.

“What’r you doin’ here, Marybeth?” her older brother Winston cried, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

“Mom’s worried. Said you’d been out so long she was ‘fraid you were lost in the woods for good. You know you’re too young to be out here alone.”

“What’s in there?” Marybeth asked Winston pointing to Stenham house. 

” You don’t want ta go there, ” Winston said matter-of-factly. “Tommy Johnson went in there and never came out the same. He’s a touched now.”

“Well he still lives in the neighborhood,” Marybeth argued. “I see him at school. He doesn’t play with the other kids much but sits in a corner and reads. There’s nothing wrong with that. What happened in that house?”

Winston shook his head, “You’ll have nightmares Marybeth, I can’t tell you. Mom’ll kill me.”

“S’okay I’m a big girl now. I’m seven. I can handle it.”

Winston sighed,”They say a family was murdered there. An axe murder came in and hacked them all to pieces. Grandma, Grandpa, the parents, and worst of all the children. There were four of them and the oldest was eleven.”

Marybeth gasped, “That’s bad. I saw the curtains moving I think someone still lives there.”

“There was a fifth child, he was a tot. The nanny hid him but was butchered herself. Even though the little guy was adopted, he always woke up with nightmares about the murder, even as an adult,” Winston whispered. 

” He lives there now, I think.” 

“He decide to live there when he ‘came  an adult. It was the only way he could face his demons. That’s what Aunt Sally told me.”

“Does Aunt Sally know him?”

“Yeah, they were in the same grade.”

Suddenly the front door to the delapitated house flew upon. Winston and Marybeth saw a gaunt middle aged man standing at the entrance. He motioned them over but then the crows began to fly and circle around the children, diving at them and pecking them when they tried to reach out to the man. 

Marybeth screamed batting at crows as she ran all the way back home to the safety of her mother’s arms. Winston followed his sister, his screams even more terrified. 

He swore to his sister, later, he saw the man at the door to Stenham mansion disappear into thin air. Marybeth believed him and decided to stay away from Stenhem house until she was older and wiser. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.  

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Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: My Wildest Dreams


I spotted an exquisite Brick house, overgrown with leaves in brilliant red as I walked my dachshund Luna. The house had a turquoise wooden door and it beckoned me inside. No one answered when I called out, so I kept exploring.

I spied a small sitting area with two mugs of tea cooling on the coffee table. A tired man appeared smiling and said, “I’ve been waiting for you, Kayla. My house has chosen you as its new owner.” 

“How do you know my name?” I asked the man alarmed.

“The house told me who you were and that you would visit today. It has ancient magic and has existed in some form for thousands of years. A sourcerer created it. Remember, until the house chooses another owner, you’re its keeper. You and Luna are also gifted long life.”

Before my eyes, the man disintegrated with a sigh.

I wandered my new home finding all my possessions. The house had also taken on the appearance and decor of my ideal home.

In the back was a deck with a white sand beach and a rolling ocean shore. Luna escaped my grasp and ran out to the water. The house had fulfilled my wildest dreams. 

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http://www.pixebay.com

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Thank to the wonderful Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. Apology for the length.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: Gram’s House


” Look what I found?” Tia cried, from her Grandmother Ida’s attic.

“What? I can’t believe people use to ride bikes like this, talk about instability” Shauna replied.”What are you doing up in Grandma and Grandpa’s old attic anyways?”

” I was just look in’ around” said Tia, “I love to see Grams but she’s ninety-three and starts to repeat herself after a couple hours. Glad you came with me this time, where is Grams anyways?”

” Taking a nap in her room,” Shauna replied, “She’s doing really well for her age. I think that bike has got to be older then Grams, it must have belonged to her Grandparents or something.”

“It seems pretty sturdy, the pedals still turn, and nothing is rusty. I think we should take it down to the front of the house and ride it. I don’t think Gram’s would mind.”

” Okay,” Shauna said and both sisters managed to maneuver the bike downstairs to the front drive. Shauna helped Tia up on the bike and held a hand to her sister’s back. 

Suddenly, there was a buzzing sound and a flash of light. Both sisters blinked in wonder to see their Grandmother’s house not in it’s dilapidated state but painted white with blue trim.They examined their clothes, shocked to find themselves in 1930’s dresses. A woman came out of the house and put her hands on her hips. 

” Who might you be? ” cried the young woman, “I’m Ida Sinclair and what are you doing with my Great Uncle’s bike.” Shauna and Tia were flabbergasted.  Somehow they’d gone back in time to when their Grams was a young woman. 

” Well” Tia replied, “that’s hard to explain, but we’re relatives who have come for a visit. . .”

“You talk strange,” said Ida, ” But I guess you can come in for tea, and tell me all about yourselves. I do seem to remember you two from somewhere.” Tia and Shauna carefully, put the bike in the front yard and went to join their young Gram for tea.

” We’re going to need that bike to get back later,” Shauna said. 

“No, I don’t think we’re going back Shauna,” Tia shrieked, as the bike disappeared before their eyes.

  
Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting!