Blog Chain - Fury Of The Storm

It's time for another edition of the Blog Chain.  Today's prompt is brought to us by the inspiring Christine, who has switched things up a bit.  Knowing how much we enjoy being creative (hopefully this is true of all writers), she asks that we write a snippet based on the following:

Since we are all writer's, I thought it was about time for us to stretch our creative muscles and do a little writing. So, take the following topic and go crazy! Show us what you've got. Your story can be as long or as short as you choice. 

The topic: A dark and stormy night


Here goes my take on this fun prompt, so I hope you enjoy it.


Only banshees rode the wind on a night like this.  Everyone else knew to stay indoors, praying to ancient deities for salvation that would not come.  It had been a year or more since Garoth's last visit.  A year of restlessness and observation as they moved about, scratching and scraping the soil for any sustenance.  The warmth he once felt for these creatures died the same day he did.  He no longer lived among the population, instead burdened with caring for them from above.   Garoth hadn't known when he'd agreed however, that the burden would include an occasional murder.

Lightning exploded from the cloud beneath him, and Garoth glided down the jagged bolt with one hand.  He kept the charge alive, reveling in the struggle of controlled electricity against his sooty palm.  The power was heady, a bonus he enjoyed along with god-like immortality.  As long as he didn't make a mistake, that is.  Even gods could be toppled from their thrones, a fact his predecessor had forgotten.

Long moments later Garoth stood on the ground, his heavy boots sinking into the muddy square.  Releasing his grip, Garoth absorbed the lightning with a gesture.  Tendrils danced across his fingertips for a second before disappearing entirely.  The dark blanket of night fell across the land once more, interrupted here and there by half-hooded lamps at each doorstep.  The flames struggled against his wind, but Garoth decided not to snuff them.  Let them believe light would save them.  Only one would suffer tonight.

Pulling in the damp air through beastly nostrils, Garoth detected a nearby quarry.   The unfortunate soul cowered behind a patchwork door in an abandoned barn, unaware how little time was left them.  Focusing the energy within him, Garoth sent a bolt from one raised palm.  The door exploded, the concussion sending the small pale form flying against the back wall.  With a few quick strides, Garoth grabbed the unconscious child by the throat and held her up.  Long blonde hair cascaded across his arm, clashing with Garoth's blackened flesh.  The image gave him pause, something stirring inside as he considered.  Why did it have to be child?

"Still bothered by conscience, Garoth?  You should have remained among them.  Killing you that way would have been quick and painless."

Garoth didn't turn.  "I'll be with you in a moment, Kevor."  His nails bit into the pale flesh, his grip crushing the windpipe without effort.  Energy infused him as he murmured a few words, completing the ritual.  Distaste warred with glee as he turned to face his nemesis, hopefully for the last time.




That's my take on things.  If you haven't read it yet, you need to visit Michelle H. to see her awesome entry.  Tomorrow you can look forward to something just as extraordinary from one of our new blog chain members, PK.