| Stanley Part 4 - Strangers |
1690
The night had grown colder and the ground had hardened with a frosty ice layer which crunched beneath Elizabeth Whyte’s feet. Across the moorland, the moon cast an eerie shadow as Elizabeth tightened the belt of her cherry red wool coat and was surprised to find herself feeling reassured by the figure of Grispheran who was standing with Hughie, close by.
The barguest howled and ran off into the distance. Elizabeth shook her head gently, her long blond hair flecked with freshly fallen snowflakes. “So much for magic stones,” she laughed softly. “Now what do we do?”
“It worked, Lass.” Hughie announced patiently as if speaking to a child. “We’re on t’other side.”
“We are?” Elizabeth asked incredulously. “Why does it look exactly the same?”
“Same place, different time,” answered Grispheran. “What’s happened to the others?” Elizabeth asked perplexed. She pulled up the collar of her coat as she spoke and fastened the top button with her black leather clad fingers.
Both Hughie and Elizabeth looked to Grispheran for an answer to her question. He shrugged nonchalantly.
The crunching of ice beneath feet brought all their attention to a female figure hurriedly scrambling over the moor towards them. Elizabeth recognised Gemma’s auburn hair and features.
What on earth is she wearing?
“It’s not Gemma,” Hughie said, changing his outward appearance to match the apparel Grispheran had adopted.
“What do you mean it’s not Gemma? I’d recognise her anywhere!” replied an exasperated Elizabeth.
***
Fear overcame Gracie as she noticed the trio of strangers standing by the Heyleigh Stones. She did not know whether to run to or from them. She thought about reaching for the magic pearl again and decided to leave it safely in her pocket. She would only take it out if she needed to use it, and next time she did, she would do it intentionally, and not cock it up like the last three times!
She needed to get help and fast. Heaven only knew what those men were intending to do with Bunny. She needed to get him freed and then get them both home safely before something else horrible happened again. Taking a deep breath, she approached the woman. She reminded Gracie of an angel.
PrevLabels: 1690s, Elizabeth, Refuge of Delayed Souls, Web Fiction |
posted by Miladysa @ 22:00  |
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| Stanley Part 3 - Witchcraft |
1690
“Where are we?” asked Bunny, holding on tight to Gracie’s hand as they wandered through the landscaped gardens they now found themselves in.
Gracie looked across the lawns towards a large stone building with many heavily leaded windows. Hades Hill stood proudly in the distance behind it. She could clearly see a rookery in the trees to her right and Heyleigh dell was behind, as well as to the left of her. If her sense of direction was correct, the building she was now looking at should be Heyleigh Hall; the home of the Theawickes. The one she was seeing was not half as grand or half its size.
“Is this what happened to you, Gracie?” Bunny asked excitedly. “I’ve always dreamed of an adventure. Our Alan says going t’shop and back is about all the adventure I’ll ever get. He’s wrong, isn’t he, Gracie?”
“I suppose he is,” Gracie replied, staring down at the milky stone she was holding in her hand. It must be a magic pearl! She had seen ladies wearing pearls but she had never seen a real pearl up close before, nor had she heard of one with magic powers. She never imagined she would get to hold a magic pearl...or a magic anything come to that.
Gracie hadn’t expected pearls to be warm. All the stones she had known previously had been cold -– stone cold. This one, however, warmed the skin touching it. Where could it have come from? She didn’t have time to think about that now. The best idea would be to put it back in her pocket for safe keeping before it had the chance to do any more damage.
Shouts rang out over the gardens accompanied soon after by the unmistakeable chorus of baying dogs. Gracie and Bunny looked in the direction of the house where they could now clearly see an old man shouting orders at a young boy who was holding two straining dogs by their large and elaborately jewelled collars.
“C’mon!” exclaimed Bunny, dragging Gracie off towards the edge of the dell with him. “They're going to set those mutts on us! Run!”
Gracie did not need to be told twice. They both ran like the wind, but failed to make it further than a clearing in the trees at the edge of the dell before the excited hounds all but closed the distance between them.
“We’re not going to make it!” Bunny screamed over his shoulder. The terrain beneath their feet became steeper with each stride. “Can yer not get us out of here like yer did before, Gracie?”
Gracie reached for the stone in her pocket just as Bunny tripped over a fallen branch and crashed to the ground.
The dogs were upon them!
Bunny instinctively turned from where he lay face down on the ground and valiantly attempted to wrestle one of the ferocious blond-haired hunting hounds snapping at the space around him. He grabbed the animal’s ears and tried to push the frenzied creature away in an attempt to prevent it from savaging his already swollen and blooded face.
Horror-stricken, a helpless Gracie watched as the other hound approached her determinedly. Overwhelmed by panic, she turned and fled.
Gracie had not run much further than a few yards when she passed another fallen branch on the ground. Turning full circle, Gracie bent down hurriedly to snatch it up with the intention of using it as a weapon against her attacker. A living trap of sharp fangs and saliva sprang and sunk deep into her outstretched arm ripping the flesh apart.
Screaming in agony, Gracie lashed out at the second hound with the hand holding the stone. The animal instantly transformed into a skeleton, all flesh and life stripped from it.
The vicious snarls of Bunny’s fearsome combatant morphed into a half-strangled yelp as it turned tail and ran back in the direction from which it came.
Gracie wasted no time in running back to her brother and helping Bunny get back up on his feet using her uninjured arm with the magic pearl held tightly in her palm.
Bunny began to sob like a baby. His tears mingled with dirt and blood to give his usual baby-face a more sinister appearance.
Gracie studied his split lip and bloody nose, then plucked up the courage to confront her own injuries. The ripped flesh was puce, the puncture marks from the dog’s teeth were raised and weeping. Everywhere stung like crazy and seemed to be bleeding.
Despite their injuries, Gracie could not help but think that they had both got off lightly. She gave Bunny a cuddle and his sobs began to lessen. He is never going to grow up, not really, she thought to herself.
Gracie did not know how they had managed to get where they were, but they needed to get out of here and find some help fast. The thought of the damage the magic pearl was capable of scared her. Gracie was torn between the idea of throwing it away and using it again to somehow get them home.
They both heard crashing footfalls and panting as the young and unusually dressed boy joined them expectantly. He glared at them and then his expression turned to sheer terror and disbelief as his eyes fell upon the jewelled collar and bleached skeleton of the dog lying several feet away.
“Witchcraft!” The boy whispered under his breath and crossed himself.
Two other, similarly dressed and older men quickly joined him. Both echoed the boy’s reactions and actions. Still shocked from their experiences so far, Gracie and Bunny remained grounded where they stood.
“It tried to kill me,” offered Bunny in explanation. “We were doing no wrong. We only just got here and he,” he pointed a trembling finger at the young boy, “set them on us!”
Bunny looked like he was going to break into tears again.
“Yer were trespassing on His Lordship’s land!” accused the boy. “
“Wasn’t!” replied Bunny sticking out his tongue.
Gracie watched the exchange, unsure how they were going to get out of the predicament they now found themselves in. Things appeared to be going from bad to worse.
“I’m sorry about your dog,” she said apologetically to the boy. “I’ve no idea what happened to it but it were nothing to do with us,” she lied.
The smaller and more robust of the two men grabbed hold of Bunny. “You’re coming with us! Master Zachary knows how to deal with your kind!”
Bunny’s bottom lip trembled and terrified he turned to Gracie for help. “Don’t let them hurt me, Gracie,” he sobbed. “Use your magic to stop ‘em!”
All three men gasped with shock at Bunny’s words. Gracie had no choice, she would need the stone if she was to help Bunny. She reached into her pocket.
PrevLabels: 1690s, Gracie, Refuge of Delayed Souls, Web Fiction |
| posted by Miladysa @ 22:40 |
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| Stanley Part 2 - Spellbound |
1907
Arwydau enjoyed watching the Living human boys. How they liked to dice with death as if they were the immortal ones. They always played a little too close to the edge of the manmade pathways littering the dell, running higher and faster than they should. One minute, young and beautiful, the next, shrouded in grey and shuffling through the end of their days with mortal longings and regrets.
Scowling down at the river bed below, Arwydau noticed a few lingering traces of the annoying, as well as debilitating, orange iron water as it gushed on by.
Swinging her bare legs over the granite boulder beneath her, Arwydau dragged her eyes away from the Living and sprawled out leisurely to soak up the glorious re-emerging sunshine as it broke through the luscious tree canopy above.
What was left of the iron traces the rain had washed from the moor above, down into the river, would soon be flushed further downstream. By the time that happened, she would be dry from the recent rain and refreshed enough to move on.
A crow sounded a warning as one of the Living human boys spied and chased after a couple of Annwn’s hounds who looked to have run off with some papers. The boy stopped abruptly on a narrow outcrop of rock directly above Arwydau. He stared at her, spellbound.
“How on earth did you manage to get down there?” he shouted as if to a naughty child. Then, in a friendlier, yet still superior tone, he added, “Don’t worry! I’ll work my way down and have you safe and sound in no time at all!”
Arwydau laughed. The tinkling notes of her derisive and dismissive outburst lost on the ripples of the fast flowing river below.
Poor deluded Living human boy! She would play with him a little before he fell to his death. Using her magic, Arwydau ensured that the land was firm wherever the Living boy placed his feet and that any foliage he clung to was firmly rooted.
The boy made his way carefully down towards Arwydau and stood dumbfounded on a granite ledge opposite. She watched amused as he sought to figure out a way to reach her.
Arwydau enjoyed the Living boy’s mental anguish. She waited as he ruled out every possible logical option and yet still continued to search for a logical solution.
Arwydau stood up on her ledge, walked over to its edge and peered over into the sheer drop below. Her long red hair floated out around her as if stirred by a gentle breeze. She smiled smugly at the Living human boy before stepping into the void.
Her body shot downwards giving the impression that she would meet with certain death on the jagged rocks beneath.
The shock and horror on the Living human boy’s face was both priceless and pleasurable to her!
Mid-flight, Arwydau stopped suddenly in disbelief. Despite all that he had witnessed so far, she sensed that the Living human boy was still fool enough to wish to save her.
For a moment Arwydau considered pulling him to his death and then she sensed something far more tempting about him. Arwydau rose up to meet him.
When she arrived on the granite ledge, he was trembling with fear and yet he stood his ground, finding a courage within which Arwydau admired greatly.
“What...who are you?” he asked, raising a hand to shield his eyes against the sunshine bursting through the trees and striving to get a closer look at her. The silver blue tones of his irises stood out dramatically against the greys of the granite rocks behind him and the assorted greens of the summer foliage all around.
Arwydau moved closer towards him, pushing him effortless until his back was against the hillside and his breathing was raised. Slowly and leisurely, she leaned the length of her body against his. Her nipples tightened as his large, mesmerised pupils opened wider.
The Living human boy licked his dry lips in order to speak. Arwydau refused to give him the chance. Her soft, plum lips pressed passionately and urgently into his, her tongue flicked into his mouth to taste him.
“I’m Stanley,” he exhaled breathlessly quite some time later. He reached out to gather a handful of Arwydau’s hair.
Arwydau liked this Stanley. She might let him live -– for now.
***
Stanley Thomas Birch tossed and turned. He thumped the white feather pillow under his head then threw it out of the bed where it landed with a thud next to his recent scribblings -- and the pillow he had thrown earlier.
Damn that dream! Always the same one! Night after night after night! It was driving him insane.
Stanley got out of bed and walked over to the bedroom window half asleep. He had no idea why the dream persisted. In the early morning light of the garden below, he noticed a shadow fall across the nearest flower bed and then a small cloud of what looked like gold dust blew up and tapped against the window. His mind fought to decipher what was happening.
Stanley knew that there was some meaning to what he was experiencing, he just could not figure out what it was at the moment. He opened the window; the floor-length heavy lace curtain billowed and the room was filled with a chill.
Suddenly, he felt an urgent need to write, to put all the thoughts spinning around in his head down on paper. As his mind wandered through a chaotic stream of thoughts, tinkling laughter abruptly filled the room. Startled, he turned and let his eyes slide along the voluptuous young woman lying languidly on his bed. Her skin appeared to be whiter than the sheets beneath and had a luminance somewhat similar to mother-of-pearl. Her wild red hair cascaded over her shoulders and way beyond her waist.
The laughter echoed again. Stanley was sure it was coming from the woman and yet her lips remained firmly closed like two fat caterpillars lying one upon the other. He was both attracted and repulsed at the same time.
She patted the bed beside her. “Come, boy,” she said enticingly, again with no movement from her lips.
Stanley ran a worried hand through his thick brown head of hair and frowned.
“I’m not a boy,” he answered louder than he had intended. “I’m a man,” he continued in a quieter tone.
She laughed again. Louder and shriller this time. The caterpillars stirred and parted.
“Even should you live to be a hundred, you will still be a babe compared to me,” she stated flatly and again caressed the bed beside her.
Stanley felt himself walking forwards. His body was obeying her command yet part of his mind managed to rebel and remained within his control. He wanted to discover who she was and how she had entered his bedroom. Try as he might, he was unable to find the strength to ask the questions.
He did not think it was in his best interests to lessen the distance between them. In fact, he wanted desperately to increase it. His mind screamed at him to run but his body continued to propel forward.
“That’s better,” the caterpillars purred against his ear as he sat down on the large double bed. Stanley moved his head away from the caterpillars and gazed directly into the woman’s hard amber eyes. He melted -– all of him -– into her. His lips sought out her flesh, his hands covered every inch, his mind drank in every iota of knowledge that she divulged to him.
The last thing Stanley remembered was the veil of gold dust covering the sheets and her sighs ringing in his ears.
Labels: 1907, Refuge of Delayed Souls, Stanley, Web Fiction |
| posted by Miladysa @ 21:40 |
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| What The Readers Say |
"The everyday and the otherworldly are blended skillfully into one another without the jolting feeling one sometimes finds in contemporary fantasy..."
~Kendal Black
"Paranormal Mystery
... The story itself spans several lifetimes, and, amazingly, never feels made-up or fake."
~Tahjir
"...bloody damn good...
I especially like how it jumps back and forth between time periods to frame the narrative."
~Kyt Dotson
"Gothic Web Opera
"...This story cries out to be read late at night, in a dark room, alone."
~Web Fiction Guide Review
"It’s creepy and chilling, fast-paced and intricate, well researched and laid out - but best of all, it is well written."
~NiSp
"Each of the storylines is a puzzle piece and the beautiful picture will not be complete if you simply throw a piece out. You never know when you may need the information from 1967 to make sense of what is going on in 2007 or what happened in 1938."
~Sora
"A combination ghost story, mystery, and period piece ...At its core, Refuge of Delayed Souls is a ghost story, and a chilling one at that."
~Chris Tejeda
"Ghost Story With A Heart...time-spanning, genre-bending story that creates a powerful emotional attachment with its characters unlike most stories in this genre."
~Avery Tingle Labels: Reviews, Web Fiction |
| posted by Miladysa @ 23:20 |
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| Stanley Part 1 - Return |
1907
Gracie lay still on the ground listening to the low gathering moans of a bitter wind. A thousand or more icy fingers crept across the exposed skin of her spindly arms and legs and scratched her awake.
She tried to open her eyes a little; it was so dark that she was unsure whether or not she had succeeded. Slowly, her eyes grew accustomed to the murky darkness and she was able to make out a few scattered stars in the inky night sky above.
Though uncomfortable, the damp ground beneath her petite frame felt reassuringly solid. Hesitantly, she turned onto her left side and recognised the eerie silhouette of Heyleigh Stones, standing upon the barren moor, as if they had been specifically formed to greet her when she woke.
Gracie was relieved to discover that she was in one piece. The relief departed even more quickly than it had arrived when she remembered that she was supposed to have met up with her brothers, Alan and Bunny, and they should all have arrived home together in time for tea.
No doubt her mother would be worried sick after she had failed to return home as planned. Gracie could easily picture her siblings being read the Riot Act before being sent to bed without any tea. She definitely was not going to be in anyone’s good books after this.
Despite her eagerness to leave Hades Hill and return home, Gracie decided the best way forward would be to let common sense prevail and stay where she was until it was light. She really would be risking life and limb if she tried to make her way down its rugged slope in the darkness.
***
Alan Regan entered the kitchen of the small terrace house and rubbed his arthritic arm furiously, as the cold temperature wrapped around him. He swore and walked over to the black cast iron stove. A medium-sized liver and white mongrel dog left the place where it had been sleeping and joined him. It watched intently as he struggled to get the stove going, and cowered nervously as colourful language, and flying objects, peppered the room until a weak orange flicker appeared.
Alan retrieved a half-smoked cigarette from behind his ear. He lit it upon the now robust open flame and then placed a heavy kettle on to boil. The dog lied down to share the heat source, seemingly relieved although not entirely relaxed. He rested his head on his paws and looked up surreptitiously as his master inhaled the cigarette through pursed lips whilst rubbing his aching lower back with both his hands for several minutes.
The dog leapt up and darted to the rear of the room a split second before the cigarette tip and tube of ash dropped onto his master’s threadbare jumper.
“Basket!”
Swearing and half-demented with rage, Alan swiped at his chest and inadvertently stubbed his toe on the cast iron stove. This time he shouted out in pain and hopped around the room like a possessed frog, rubbing his injured foot.
The latch on the back door rattled, and the wooden door opened and closed firmly behind him. Alan ceased his administrations and reached for two pint-sized, blue and white hooped pots which were on hooks above the wooden kitchen drainer.
“Eh! Talk about timing! Kettle’s on.”
With his back still turned to the rear door, Alan limped over to the pantry and reached inside for some tea.
The mongrel growled and backed as far away from the visitor as possible.
“Shut the fook up!” Alan growled back at it with venom. “It’s only our kid! What the hell’s up with yer?”
He looked from the dog to his younger brother. The small bag of tea fell from his hands and onto the slate grey floor. A shower of black tea leaves fluttered to the ground and settled over and around his bare feet. He continued to stare, his mouth agape and a day’s full growth of whiskers standing to attention on his chin.
“Where’s me mam?” Gracie asked wide eyed, trying to catch her breath from the sprint down the street.
“Mary, Joseph and Jesus!” Alan managed to squeak before reaching for support from the kitchen table.
The latch rattled once more and the door barely had time to creak before the frantic hound dashed out of it and into the distance beyond.
Bernard ‘Bunny’ Regan stood rooted to the spot, the freshly baked loaf of bread he had been set to fetch, clutched tightly to his chest and mangled by his left hand. The only thing holding him upright was his other hand firmly fastened to the iron latch of the open door.
His questioning eyes darted back and forth between his older brother and sister. The two years between them had increased by a lifetime. Gracie’s physical appearance had not aged a single day since the last time they had seen her -- twenty years earlier.
“What?” she cried out, suddenly looking frightened and frantic.
Bunny closed the door then fell back against it. He covered his eyes with one of his hands leaving only a shock of red hair and his mouth and chin visible. He removed the hand and gulped audibly several times before he managed to get a word out in answer.
“Mam’s dead...,” he announced with tears in his eyes. “Dad and our Katie too...our Alan looks out for me now.” He nodded toward the other man in the room.
A perplexed Gracie frowned at the two men.
“It’s been twenty flaming years, Gracie!” A purple faced Alan shouted furiously, shaking the tea from his feet and searching behind his ears in the vain hope of finding another cigarette stashed there.
“What are you talking about? Stop larking around!” Gracie cried, her temper clearly rising and a fight brewing within her.
Bunny, now standing beside her, nodded his head in affirmation as Gracie looked to him for reassurance.
“He’s right,” he confirmed verbally. “Where the heck have yer bin?”
***
Gracie sat on one of the rustic kitchen stools and searched the sparsely furnished room as if looking for answers in the plaster cracks or splintered wood, but finding none.
The tea Bunny had made her cooled within its chipped cup. Alan stared at her with disdain, as though she was one of the bottled specimens in the travelling circus, which visited every autumn. She had no doubts that the man leaning against the wall glaring at her was her older brother. She was, however, finding it difficult to come to terms with the way both Alan and Bunny had seemingly aged overnight.
Bunny knelt down on the cold, hard floor and took her hands in his. They were old and calloused, more fitting her granddad than her younger brother. She studied his face. In the shadow of the man he had become, she could still clearly see the boy he had been.
“Did me mam find yer? She said she would,” Bunny said excitedly.
Alan scoffed behind him. Gracie shot him a disapproving look. He stared back at her with empty eyes. He was even colder and meaner than he had been yesterday.
“What a load of shite,” Alan snarled, filling the kettle and putting it back on the stove. “It can’t be Gracie! Think about it, soft lad. It’s probably some kid dressed up to look like her. Some sick idiot down at the pub trying to put the wind up us!”
Bunny looked hurt. Gracie instinctively reached out to ruffle his hair then pulled back.
“Have yer been away with the fairies?” Bunny asked enthusiastically, taking her by surprise with his change of mood.
Had she been away with the fairies? Gracie tried to remember what had happened on Hades Hill after she looked through the hole in the stone. The only thing she could remember was waking up last night and longing for morning to come so that she could return home.
Gracie tried to hold back her welling tears and failed. She reached into her pocket for her handkerchief and as she pulled it out, something cream-coloured and almost egg-shaped plummeted to the floor, spinning off in the direction of the stone kitchen sink. Alan reached it first. Creaking with arthritis he bent over to retrieve it.
“No!” proclaimed Gracie, rising to her feet and holding her right hand out. The object shot forwards and fell effortlessly into her palm with a slap.
“What the hell?” exclaimed Alan, walking menacingly towards Gracie and Bunny.
Bunny started to tremble.
“Keep yer distance,” warned Gracie, stepping in front of Alan and grabbing hold of Bunny’s hand firmly. Alan continued towards them and stared in amazement, as well as into space, when Gracie and Bunny suddenly disappeared into thin air.
Labels: 1907, Gracie, Refuge of Delayed Souls, Sidhe, Web Fiction |
| posted by Miladysa @ 23:00 |
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| A Series of Novellas by Miladysa |
Refuge of Delayed Souls or - RoYds - as the story has become affectionately known - is a complex, paranormal mystery which encompasses multiple timelines and intertwining stories.
Volume Three ~Sidhe~ ***Updates Every Friday*** Latest Chapter
Grace  Regan returns home unexpectedly, a young Stanley Birch meets a mysterious stranger and Elizabeth Whyte journeys through the standing stones.
"Most men would welcome such a dream..."
Book Trailer Start Reading
Volume One ~ RoYds
Elizabeth Whyte returns following a period of absence and is keen to reprise her role within a mysterious Agency known as RoYds. "There's no need to shout -– you'll wake the Living."
Book Trailer
Volume Two ~ Billy
Elizabeth's investigations into the past and the supernatural continue.
A barguest wreaks havoc on the moors above the town and
Billy Lawrence is introduced to the world of RoYds.
"I'm on the side of me."
Book Trailer
Start Reading
What The Readers Say:
"The everyday and the otherworldly are blended skillfully into one another without the jolting feeling one sometimes finds in contemporary fantasy..."
~Kendal Black
"Paranormal Mystery
... The story itself spans several lifetimes, and, amazingly, never feels made-up or fake."
~Tahjir
"...bloody damn good...
I especially like how it jumps back and forth between time periods to frame the narrative."
~Kyt Dotson
"Gothic Web Opera
"...This story cries out to be read late at night, in a dark room, alone."
~Web Fiction Guide Review
"It’s creepy and chilling, fast-paced and intricate, well researched and laid out - but best of all, it is well written."
~NiSp
"Each of the storylines is a puzzle piece and the beautiful picture will not be complete if you simply throw a piece out. You never know when you may need the information from 1967 to make sense of what is going on in 2007 or what happened in 1938."
~Sora
"A combination ghost story, mystery, and period piece ...At its core, Refuge of Delayed Souls is a ghost story, and a chilling one at that."
~Chris Tejeda
"Ghost Story With A Heart...time-spanning, genre-bending story that creates a powerful emotional attachment with its characters unlike most stories in this genre."
~Avery Tingle Labels: ebook, Miladysa, Refuge of Delayed Souls, Web Fiction |
| posted by Miladysa @ 23:25 |
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