Creator of micro fiction for the easily distracted!
Imagination prompts and fantasy ideas
Ghosts of days long gone
The crunch of gravel and slamming car doors put Victoria on high alert. 'It should be the second room on the left, Annabelle,' a deep voice boomed. The scuffing of shoes brought her attention to the door, where a young girl ran into the room carrying a large box. Unceremoniously dumping it on the floor, Annabelle looked around and sniffed, displeased with the dated appearance of the room. Victoria gasped as Annabelle viciously pulled a large sheet of wallpaper off the wall, letting it fall in a crumpled pile on the floor, sending up clouds of dust. Victoria glared at the girl, her eyes turning icy… and the temperature of the room plummeted. She had only just arrived, and she was already destroying things… as expected. Annabelle shouted, "Mum fix the thermostat! It's freezing up here!". Rolling her eyes, Victoria turned, and with a swish of her long skirts, strode past the girl towards the hall, slamming the door behind her. She heard a yelp of fright and took pleasure at the thought of the girl's horrified face when the door appeared to shut of its own accord.
Don't trust the shadows
There had been over two dozen sightings by late April. A tall, dark figure, just outside the corner of one's eye. The mere presence of a shadow. Reporters had mocked. The police had laughed. Those who claim they saw someone- something- were ridiculed and shunned. But everyone began to believe after the first body showed up.
The clicking in the mirrors
From the beginning, they had warned her. In one of her earlier trips to the town, she had introduced herself, and shared her plans for the renovation of the mansion. The townsfolk had muttered to each other, shooting her worried looks. She had laughed, brushing away their concerns, summing it up to resisting change. she was not laughing now.