10 August 2011

It's Raining, It's Pouring... (8/10/11)

Wednesday again! Here's the writing, and don't forget to check out the other great bloggers listed below!

*LANGUAGE/GORE* (I like 'gore' better than 'violence')

Thunder clapped above the trees as the car wended its way along the curved road between the woods. The young girl in the passenger seat squealed, nervous and excited all at once, and squeezed closer to her boyfriend. He smiled and tightened his grip on her hand as he drove steadily forward in the sheets of pounding rain.

“Hey, babe,” he said with a laugh. “What are you worrying about?”
“This is one hell of a storm. I’ve never seen anything like it around here.”

“Well, don’t you let this nasty thing bother you. I’ve got everything under control.”

They drove in silence for a few moments, the only sound her soft breathing as she stared out of the window and traced the racing droplets path down the glass. Trees whirled by, a smear of green and brown and blonde as a face swung out of view from the branches.

“Holy shit,” the girl whispered, pressing against the seat.

“What?” Her boyfriend looked over with concern.

“Did you…There was a person in the trees.” She pointed with a shaking finger towards the window.

He glanced out the window, skeptical. “I don’t see anything. Must have been a trick of the rain.”

“No, there was a face and she…Well, she flew into the trees.” The girl pursed her lips, realizing how stupid she sounded. “I just thought I saw something. Never mind.”

“Ok, let’s just get you home out of this storm,” he replied, yelling over the loud thunder which smashed overhead.

She nodded and sank into the seat, wondering if she’d imagined the mysterious face in the window. Lightning lit up the night sky as she glanced out the window and saw the face again. An impossibly beautiful woman stared at her, keeping pace from the trees with the car going forty five miles an hour down the slick back road. The woman raised a finger to her lips and gave an impish grin before she disappeared into the night.

The girl leaned forward and pressed her forehead against the glass, trying to see where the woman went. She couldn’t see anything for the driving rain streaming around them, blocking out even the trees in some places.

A thud overhead made both of them glance up. The girl swallowed. “Steve, did you hear that?”

He nodded, looking between the roof and the road. “Yeah, I did. Must be a branch or something, Marie.”

Marie remained unconvinced. A branch that size would have dented the roof. Instead there was no mark, only the soft scratches of something shifting with the curves of the road. Marie blinked and looked forward just as the woman’s face dropped into Steve’s line of sight.

“Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed, and pulled the wheel hard to the left. The car went into a slow spin, every second painstakingly clear as they swerved to the side of the road. The car tilted onto two wheels before flipping onto its side. Marie’s screams filled the air as Steve bounced in his seat, having forgotten to put on his seatbelt before they drove away from the movies.

His head cracked off the steering wheel with the violent movements as the vehicle rolled one last time onto its top and Steve fell unconscious. With shaking hands and tears rolling down her face, Marie struggled to steady her breathing. She put a hand on the roof in an attempt to soften the blow as she unstrapped from her seat and fell into a heap amid the glass and shards of metal surrounding her.

“Oh, god,” she sobbed, crawling towards Steve’s lifeless body. “Steve?” She shook his shoulders once and watched as his head rolled to the side to reveal a gaping wound. Tendons and muscles lay exposed as blood poured from his neck and Marie watched in horror as the beautiful woman rose behind him to look her dead in the eye with Steve’s blood dripping down her chin.

Marie screamed again and tried to crawl backwards out of the car, but the woman moved too fast. She disappeared, and before Marie could blink, her shirt was being pulled and she was dragged into the rainy night.

The woman crouched in front of her, head cocked in a calculating stare.

“What do you want from me?” Marie’s cries filled the night.

“Only your soul,” she replied with a soft tone and attacked. Within seconds, Marie lay dead next to the car.

The rain continued to pound around the two lovers, dead before they could know what was attacking them. A sigh escaped the woman as she looked at her victims. The rain could wash away the road dirt, bit could never wash away the curse staining her soul.


As promised, the other magnificent storytellers:

Chris Quinton (m/m)
West Thornhill (m/m)

Victoria Blisse (m/f)
Heather Lin (m/f)

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