The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
They are coming now…I can hear them skittering in the dark. Soon, soon I will have what I need to survive. It isn’t easy, calling in the crop—I think of them as a crop…something I seeded and watched incubate with bated breath until fruition. Mason argued with me about that. Said a living creature couldn’t be a crop. You don’t have a “crop” of cows. Well, then, I conceded. They are my herd.
And then I slit his throat to draw them in.
They are drawn to the scent of blood somehow…I don’t know how. Their senses are so alien to me. But the decanter of blood calls them like a magnet, all my little darlings in their hundreds. Calls them in their hundreds.
I lie here on the bier beside it, the sigils drawn upon my skin with Mason’s blood as well. When they notice, they will come to me—kiss me in their way…leave traces of their poison in my flesh.
I will live as they die, die as they live, a cycle we have perpetuated for millennia. Surely, Mason didn’t think this was my first time.
Come, my beauties! Come!
Let the harvest begin.
Fiction © Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
More from Author Rie Sheridan Rose:
Ghosts, Gears, and Grimoires
A grimoire is a magician’s manual for invoking demons and the spirits of the dead. Within the pages of this book, you’ll find just such tales…along with a sprinkling of ghost stories, possessed machinery, and wicked deeds cloaked in Steampunk.
Immerse yourself in the magic, mystery and mayhem.