prologue

a guardian dies

beyond the land of nod

to the borderlands of reality

a million children await

to the other side a dream awaits

a nightmare pulled

from the inky soup of id

a forgotten sea boils below

accepting the gift of hopes

it is upon this bridge

adults walk wearily

some cast themselves

on the jagged rocks under

others drag themselves forward

some walk back

yet more run head long willingly

into the unknown depths

of imaginary bliss

the children only wait and stare

into the void that reflects back

there is laughter over there

there are screams

there are horses whom take flight

and werewolves and vampires

they never cross over

as there are enough monsters

here...in the land of reality

 

-the bridge

 

It was an incessant scratching at first at the front door and then at the back. She thought it was her pug, Syd, whom wasn’t fond of the Minnesota winters and wanting in.

She took off her comforter and shuffled to the front door and looked out the small window. The snow was falling fast and in large flakes covering the front porch and ground in a beautiful crystalline blanket. But there were no tracks leading to her door.

The scratching came again, this time at the back door and she shuffled back through the living room, into the kitchen and to the back door. She flicked on the outdoor porch light and again, nothing not even tracks.

This caused a bit of a fright in her. One, she didn’t know where her pug went who never ventured further than 10 feet from either door. And two, it awoke something else in her. A panic she hadn’t felt since childhood.

A sudden bang on the front door made her jump from her slippers. She let out a small cry from the back of her throat. Another bang followed and she locked the back door and grabbed a butcher knife in her kitchen and came slowly to the front door. She peered down at the handle and sighed silently with relief seeing that the door was indeed locked.

She immediately picked up the phone and began dialing 9-1-1 and then she hung it up before it connected. She dialed again, this time her youngest son. The phone rang 4 times and then voice mail picked up. Another bang made her cry out louder this time. She could hear the wood of the front door starting to crack. Splinters started to light on the hardwood floors.

Suddenly, like a cold wave, she remembered everything. The words spilled from her lips unconsciously, “Alora Mandraga!”

The front and back doors blew in simultaneously. A cold wind gushed in through the doors and it was more than just a Minnesota winter squall that came in and bit into her to the bones and she knew it.

“Alora Mandraga!” she repeated.

She ran up the stairs as much as her tired 69 year old body could carry her but she stopped sudden on the 19^th step.

An icy whisper filled the staircase.

“You’re too old, Hezbah,” it teased. “All your deep magic has been cast into the abyss. Now….you belong to usssssssssssss.”

With that, the cold consumed her and her world went black. Her last thought on her grand children.

 

Reviews

[Quinn Blackburn]

oh yeah! lovin' it! the poem is excellent, but the opening of the story really blew me away! Looking forward to the unfolding :o)

[Michael of Gilead]

Got my attention

[Crowley]

Awesome start my man. Loved the pace and the startings of plot. The last line is awkward, but the rest was top notch...gettin ready to read me some more.

[Ruth]

Interesting love, great beginning and I think you will do well at this!
Great prologue :)
The scene is set well, creating an eerieness, I look forward to more :)
xx

[Bubo]

Great first chapter............spooky, tense and leaving the reader wanting more! The opening was original, and I can't wait to read more!

[NoneOfYourBusiness akaK..]

excellent set up~ what a chill~ and in those moments of uncertain mortality we all think of our young ones~

[Robin]

the pace of this was perfect ~ the end consuming indeed ~