Turan Turnip
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I'm a writing blogger trying to get more exposure. Want more content? Check out my website: https://www.turnippatch.ca/
Stories (16/0)
Whispering Death (part 12)
Drina let out a long and exhausted sigh, pressing her head against the door to the entrance of the hostel. She couldn’t take any more of this night and just wanted to sleep. Although, the moment she stepped inside the building there was no way Lulu nor Ocan would allow it without answers. It will only be a little longer, she promised herself. If she just ripped the bandaid off quickly seeing them tonight, she could get a few hours of sleep before morning. After all that had happened, she highly doubted they would be able to leave town so easily now. Having to lie low for a while because of the events of the night, Drina planned that once the uprising had washed over, they could leave in peace. All of it was speculation, however, since she needed to speak with everyone inside before a plan could be formulated. No longer did she have full control to just do what they needed to. Ocan had a say and it was time Drina respected it.
By Turan Turnip3 years ago in Fiction
Whispering Death (part 11)
Running through the field with a lantern, Drina led the way for three of men from the seance to follow behind her. She was no fighter and who knew what they would face once they got to the building. The small flickering light grew the closer they got to the distillery. Over her shoulder, she yelled back to the men.
By Turan Turnip3 years ago in Fiction
Whispering Death (part 10)
Several messages were passed and a few questions were asked, Drina was beginning to handle the flow much better than at the start. It had taken a bit longer at the beginning, and once the people present gained confidence in her ability, they began to participate quickly. It was much harder for Drina to focus on the living, making her assistance with the staff easier to handle. All she had to do was relay between the dead and the living like a telegram. Only once did someone ask for a specific ghost was she left unanswered, leaving the guest disheartened. Drina could not please everyone, and no matter her power, there was no forcing a spirit to come forth. There was, however, a small miscalculation in performance. The more she was able to relay the messages from the other world, the more spirits began to crowd around her.
By Turan Turnip3 years ago in Fiction
Whispering Death (part 9)
Standing behind the doorway, Drina took a few deep breaths. This was it, it was the moment she had been dreading since agreeing to the terms of her contract. When was the last time she willingly let her power flow without restriction? Other than her loss of control of her emotions, this had been different. To be able to let it truly loose and to stand like a horse trainer in the center of the ring while directing the flow with a whip, making it turn and twist as she pleased was a concept she had never dreamed of. And to top it off, to do it while others watched in awe as she showed them her unpracticed skill in hopes to give them a show of a lifetime. Maybe Drina had bitten off more than she could chew. Alas, it didn’t matter much now. There was no turning back. Opening her eyes, she swallowed hard. Time for the show.
By Turan Turnip3 years ago in Fiction
Whispering Death (part 8)
The night had dragged out so slowly for Drina, her hands amply dealing out her tarot cards into a simple splay. It was another typical reading, making it harder for her to act neutral. Glancing towards the tent entrance, she hoped that someone would come to release her from her prison in hopes that she could head to the main event soon. Although she was anxious to perform in front of hundreds of people, she also felt insecure and timid. Never in her past had she done anything to the likes of what she was about to do tonight in front of another living being. Any time she had played with her powers in the past was when she had been alone and hidden from eyes to pry. Most of it was spent in the wild forest near her little village. Deep within the thicket, she had made a little hut where no one could find her. Stealing candles and incense, she would then commune with the spirits in hopes to appease them into leaving her be.
By Turan Turnip3 years ago in Fiction
Whispering Death (part 7)
Light traffic flowed along both sides of the stalls within the market. It was a straight street in the middle of town with all sorts of vendors. Despite her hunger growling at her, Drina took her time to peruse the selection. She was not one for impulsive buying and wanted to make sure she was getting the best deal. However, the more she saw, the harder the choice to settle on meals had become. The smell and selections displayed were mouth-watering, several of the stalls displaying juicy meats and steaming vegetables with rice. She had almost made it to the end of the street where she would have to loop back through once more when she spotted Hestar.
By Turan Turnip3 years ago in Fiction
Whispering Death (part 6)
A scream surfaced through Drina’s mind. It called out to her causing a spike of anxiety. Reach out into the darkness of her dream, she tried to grab for the invisible hand she knew. Voicelessly she cried out back to the void, panic running a cold chill throughout her body. No matter how far she reached, the voice was locked behind the shroud of endless space. The scream increased in volume the more Drina pushed to reach out, almost to the point of deafening when a jab to her side startled her awake. With a gasp, Drina grabbed the dagger she had under the pillow and wiped it out towards the assailant who had poked her. Stopping the tip inches from her sister's face, Ocan waited unflinching and unamused.
By Turan Turnip3 years ago in Fiction
Whispering Death (part 5)
The end of Drina’s night had finally come to an end as she slumped into the couch in the hostel’s common room. What a draining night, she thought while resting her arm over her eyes. Ocan had already long gone to sleep, having checked on her before resting in the common room. Lulu had offered to make a meal for Drina before she headed off to bed herself. It was well past into the night, and the common room was empty and silent. Something she welcomed with open arms since her evening was spent surrounded by a constant stream of people. Who would have thought she was going to be as popular as she was? The moment the festival grounds were open and running, she had a constant stream of guests. It wasn’t bad considering she was good at what she does and the money was splendid. It was the dull and recurring questions and statements.
By Turan Turnip3 years ago in Fiction
Whispering Death (part 4)
The festival grounds were busy as people prepared to open fully to the public. The festival mostly ran during the evenings and late into the night since it was in celebration of the full moon solstice. A good time for Drina’s powers, yet also a dangerous one. She worked we way to the far back tents and carriages. This was where they had all band together to sleep, everyone’s portable homes lined up in circles. Several hounds roamed the grounds, keeping a close eye on her. Oh a gypsy life, she thought. If she wasn’t constantly worrying about money and food, she would have gotten a mutt for herself as well since they were a specific kind of hound. To the regular eye, it was a mixed breed of dog. For those who knew better, they were spiritual dogs. The glow within their eyes in the dim light revealed their nature of shadow and magic. These were the best guard dogs, yet the most expensive since they didn’t eat regular food. It was based on a pact with the owner to share their own spiritual powers. For Drina that would be no problem because the wealth of her soul-well was deep. The issue was she would not be able to contain it and her control would be limited.
By Turan Turnip3 years ago in Fiction