Sai Marie Johnson
A multi-genre author, poet, creative&creator. Resident of Oregon; where the flora, fauna, action & adventure that bred the Pioneer Spirit inspire, "Tantalizing, titillating and temptingly twisted" tales.
Just a Little Fib
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This particular story is meant to be one for flash fiction, and the original word count needed to be under 500 words. Vocal, however, has a 600-word minimum requirement to share any piece and so I decided to write this small passage giving some explanation behind my idea for Just a Little Fib.
Arising to the Top
There was a bustle; though it was mid-December, and the slush of the wintry mix had begun to accumulate in its glistening majesty. Not for long though. Never long, for the pristine beauty of the white landscape was something that would soon enough be tainted by the ruts of tires and mud as it slung to and fro to clutter the gutters with the scum remnants of what had once been an untouched blanket of beautiful possibility. Within this flurry, a beautiful young woman with skin the color of light sandstone and emerald eyes, called Arisela, strode down the sidewalk of Seattle with a curious grin planted upon her rosy lips. Seemingly the sun was radiated down upon her with golden tendrils that spread out across her body; clad in a dark-colored downy jacket with pleats and round buttons, which made it difficult for the shape of her welcoming body as it was covered in such a modest jacket. And yet a ribbony shimmering brightness like that of the wintry sea in the gulf seemed to shimmer like lapis lazuli with glimmering luminescence within her dual-colored eyes.
Tears of Joyous Creation
Part One: In the beginning, there was a great expanse of blank space within the heavens, and the king of the gods found himself quite lonely. It was within this solitude that he birthed an idea to create for himself beings, which were smaller than he, but just as magnificent. The sentiment within his heart at this idea caused a sensation he had never felt before and so Echiel, the king of the elven gods, was the first to express such of the entire heavenly host. Only five tears were shed, but each tear was different than the one preceding it. The first tear was clear blue, and could easily be identified as the natural tear that humans are known to release when they experience an emotional catalyst. It was his five tears that brought the very existence of Valisa, and her peoples to life. That first tear brought forth the waters that would eventually be shaping into the seas that surrounded the entirety of the country. The second tear was a single drop of mud that would later become the earth, and landmasses of the elven utopia known as Valisa.
The Disappearance of the Oracle Daughter
On a bright and sunny day in the middle of June, the youngest of the Tamira Twins was born and she was called Essence Solstyce Tamira. At the time of Essence’s birth, it was noted that she had distinct tribal markings which ran the from the nape of her neck down her spine until meeting their end at the swell of her back. These tell-tale markings were a sign from the gods that Essence was born with a purpose that made her special. A gift that few elves in Tamira had ever been blessed with. The markings were easily recognized as those of an Oracle, a rare elf who could prophesy, and foretell the future.
History Mustn't Repeat Itself
Delaehla: Imogen Simone Boehm was born on April 12th 1929, the German child had been the first, and only daughter to the Maximilian Theodore Degen, however she was the illegitimate bastard of a love affair with an actress named Magdalene Bianca Boehm, a famous German opera singer during the height of the Third Reich. Imogen's father was a renown scientist who was a part of the esteemed Deutsche Physik scientists. Imogen lived a tumultuous existence, and the girl often had to remain hidden from her mother's countless suitors, and sordid love affairs. It was with some degree of luck that at age 13 her mother happened upon one gentlemen who found that the young Imogen was quite the pretty young lady, and could soon follow in her mother's footsteps. Magdalene, however, was a slightly unstable woman mentally whom had come to rely heavily upon methamphetamines, and Russian Vodka. Upon hearing that her daughter might be on the up-and-coming she grew very envious and began shouting accusations, and insinuations at Imogen. It was her belief that girl must be trying to win over or steal away her attentions. Magdalene was a notoriously vain woman, and insanely jealous when need be. Even towards her own daughters.
The Seminole tribe was not unlike any of the other Native American tribes that had been driven out under the sheer force of the United States Army, but what set them apart was their will to face anything even the things, which most people would be appalled by. Menewah, had been the second son to the chief of their people, but this gave him less responsibility towards the governing, and more towards the fighting, and hunting aspects of which were needed for their small community. The young brave had never really desired to lead the village as he watched his father’s battle scarred face become etched in worry lines. The old man’s eyes had yellowed, and his skin appeared like leather from the sun’s unrelenting rays beating down on it.
The Soul Swallower
Noemi awoke to the sounds of thunder, lightning flashing through the tiny window pane caused a shadow of the bars upon it to cast a inky shadow upon the simple bleached tiles of the room she slept in. Young, and scared she called out for her Mother, her need to be comforted high within her. No one came, instead the small child known as Case Study 10014-02a blinked back her tears as shivers ran up her spine.
Since the dawn of time the Unseelie Court had a council set up in order to prevent any of their darker fae kind from spooking any humans to the point of retaliation. VELEBREZZA was one of a set of twins who were in line to become the next of the Morrigan line to fill a seat on the council, but only one of them could become a council member.
Chapter One: Initiation A brisk cool breeze filtered in through the open window, birds had already begun to rouse and chirp as they welcomed the rising dawn but Gracielle Watson could only be heard snoring loudly. It had only been a few years since Graci had fallen asleep, after having spent the better part of the night pouring of her anatomy books for the exam that was to take place on this very day, in four hours’ time to be exact. Elen, having risen to take a walk down to Dutch Brothers, had decided to be a dear of a bestie and picked up a huge Caramelizer coffee for each of them. Graci and Elen had been best friends since the tender age of ten, when Ellie’s mother had died of breast cancer, and Elen had moved to Dexter Lake with her grandparents. Both girls had been thrust into the school year with the loss of a parent, or in Elen’s case parents, but this commonality made it possible for an amazingly tight sisterly bond to flourish between them. So strongly that they both planned to go into nursing to help other kids maintain having parents. In fact, Elen and Graci were so inseparable that for many years during their high school season some classmates made up a terrible rumor regarding their sexualities. Now, the two were room-mating comfortably in a dormitory in Titan Tower, right smack in the center of a place totally unlike Dexter; Eugene, Oregon. It was close enough to home but just far enough from Elen’s meddling and devout Baptist grandparents and Graci’s constantly working logger father, allowing for both girls to continue to perform with their choir at Mount Olive Baptist Church and participate in the chamber choir competitions across the state.
Embers of Ecstasy
Prologue: Spell Crafting Revelation Whoosh! An arctic wind fluttered across the landscape, lifting fallen leaves in a swirl that carried them in a dancing motion across the village yard. It was an eerie sort of morn, the sort that caused chill bumps to rise upon one’s arms. And surely, the few villagers who were awake at this early hour understood that a change was coming with those Autumnal winds – a change that meant the death of most things and a deep hibernation for all others. And yet one particular woman with intoxicating cerulean eyes peered from her cabin with a deadly expression etched within her flawless visage. So utterly beautiful and with a name of equal beauty. Rumored to be one of the fairest in all the village, Rhiannon was destined to be a great Queen, but pagan beliefs were well on the outs with the advent of the Christian mission – destroying so much of her culture and that of her people, that Rhiannon opted for the sweet name that fell from her lover’s lips on such an icy day,
It singed, the coldness of the place in which she had found herself was a heavy cold. The type of cold that seeped into your bones, and took hours of heat to get out. To her the place was horrendous if not disgusting, to say the least. Yet what would happen there was something she hadn't laid witness to in an age. The bouncing tendrils of each curl upon her head had been wound up into a french bun. This was a place of lusts, and emotional binging, Devi sensed it upon the air. It exerted power, a shift in the electromagnetic wavelengths had made this place useful in the casting of spells. Yet, it was haunted. Frozen by the memory of every spell, death, or conception that had occurred within it. The Sanguine family loved it, however, and that was why Deviaun remained in this place called home. Perhaps, it was the area in which Devi resided that made it even more chilled. No one ever came there. None, save Deviaun, entered this chamber, and there she stayed. The same chamber where she had resurrected Kalene, and even Madam Chalys. Few would remember. The chamber where she wrote spell after spell, and tale after tale. Her thoughts ran to the past with photographic imagery ascertaining that she could never forget anything that happened to her. The time when she had been reduced to mere slavery and bonded within a rope corset. Such a pretty little wench. She smirked, "And that's where they always underestimate me," And it was true. Terms like Deadly Beauty, and Seductress of Death had suited her. Did they now? The removal of her heart hadn't cured her questioning. Still, she was so fucking alone now. "Fucking alone," she repeated the words aloud as if saying them thus would clear the problem any more than she had already played it out. Somewhere there was a new child Vivian had finally given birth to him. Devi shook her headlong had it been since a child had been had by her. She wondered what the purpose for the child would be? What was her sister's new agenda in their beloved little family?