Let the Mischief Begin_A Whisper Amongst the Petals_Sleep Tight_Dead Strings
Catalog Guide:
Let the Mischief Begin
“You can’t live without me!” My shout was not only ignored; it was absently regarded by all of the other seven. I was always left out. I was never understood or even acknowledged, even though I managed to cook and clean for those seven for eight years. Then that white snow chick showed up and now I am staring at the wood grain on a door.I backed away from the door and felt the heat within my chest begin to fade. They wanted her. She could do my job. I would walk away, and I did. I would also find my way in the world to be more than just three feet of domestic work.I walked through the forest ...
A Whisper Amongst the Petals
(A side-story to: Might as Well Have Been Wind in the Bells)I only came to the village for a look, fraternizing with humans has been highly discouraged throughout my life. But I find myself standing stock still, just outside town. Something’s calling to me, an electric feel in the air.I can’t place it.My keen eyes flicker across the landscape, searching for the source. The scenery is mountainous and green, full of beautiful rock formations and ornamented with twisted trees and bushes.The scene is alluring and peaceful, and yet, unsettled by this strange feeling. Something tells me I’m going to...
Sleep Tight
It was bed time for little Jake, so his mom tucked him in, kissed him good night, and, as always, said, “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!” Jake giggled, and settled in for a good night’s sleep.Moments later, he felt his bed shake. As he cautiously looked over the side of his bed, he suddenly saw…something…looking back at him. He was face to “face” with a flat faced, big eyed, antennae clad…thing. Jake screamed and jumped up so he was now standing on his bed. “Why the kerfuffle?” the thing asked.“Whwww.onedoor.cco…who, what….are you?” Jake stuttered.“Well, young Jake, my name is Billybob…I’m your b...
Dead Strings
(Author note: contains violence and NSFW language.)“Shhhh.” A hand wrapped around my mouth, stopping my squeak in its track. You’d think after five years I’d know better. Know not to be afraid. To bite my tongue and keep my calm. But fear’s a tough bitch to shake, a real leach if you ask me. Once it gets its teeth in you, it ain’t looking to let go. And it don’t matter how many times I’ve seen ‘em staggering about with those milky white eyes dripping black, sludge tears; the sight them will haunt me till the end, I suppose. It’d take a madman to not fear the Stringers. Good thing the hand arou...