Unfamiliar Territory for +Bliss Morgan

The grassland stretched as far as the eye could see, the grass tall and rippling with waves in the moonlight, stirred by a light breeze.

Leandra was nervous. She put her hand on her familiar, a young lioness; she didn't like it here either. It was unfamiliar territory; more than that, it was the territory of the Druids.

No one knew why they had started fighting. It had been a war that lasted so long that it had become a culture; you saw a Druid, you fought a Druid. It was that simple.

It had always been simple.

But she was here on a different mission today. She was here to meet someone; a peace offering on behalf of Witches everywhere. There was something far worse afoot than each other.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” she thought to herself. This did little to comfort her, but it gave her some small hope to cling to. She could die tonight, and she knew it.

She felt her familiar react and turned to look. There stood a woman in a flowing white dress; well-spun cotton, soft and smooth, floating like a banshee across the plain toward her, stark in the light of the full moon.

But what most caught her eye wasn't the woman, but what was behind her. Like the Witches, Druids had their familiars; unlike witches,  however, theirs were all herbivores.

Behind her, making the ground shake with every footstep, was a full-grown elephant.

“Holy shit.” she thought to herself, staring from where she sat. “How am I suppose to negotiate with that?”

The woman came to stand before her, the elephant but three feet away. Both looked down at her; both suspiciously.

"And to what..." she said slowly, "...do I owe the... honor... of this visit?"

_404 words, 11:25 minutes_

Leandra stood up slowly, brushing dirt off leather pants, then offered her hand. "I am Leandra, of the..."

"I know who you are." interrupted the Druid without introducing herself. "You are too young to be here. They should have kept you at home. Why are you here?"

"I am a messenger." she replied. "There is something you have to know."

"Yes? I am listening. Tell me girl."

"There's something headed this way." she replied. "From beyond Gaia."

"And what would that be?" asked the Priestess. "What is it that could be such a threat that you, a Witch, would come to me?"

"A parasitic planet."

Home for +Ayoub Khote

Daniel's truck bounced down the old, rough rough country road. It was autumn; the trees lining the side were a display of red and orange, raining down their leaves into the grass below.

It had been a long time since he had been home. Since joining the Army, he hadn't really had a chance; he had spent most of his time overseas. It felt good; right, even; to be back in the country, smelling the crisp air on a chill morning, seeing the trees. You never appreciated trees until you had lived a year in the desert.

He turned on the road, feeling his truck sway underneath him. It was old, a gift from his father when he first graduated from basic training. It to smelled of home.

After a few minutes, the trees grew more sparse and became field. Out across the rolling hills of grass, he could see the home he grew up in. He remembered himself and his sister playing in the yard; the trampoline and how it was always covered in leaves this time of year, and the sound they made as they flew up and down with every bounce. The texture of it when they stuck to his back, and how often he had fallen.

He got closer; there were no lights in the house.

He had played tag in the yard; it was rather large. There were trees in the back that they often climbed, often perilously; one time, he remember, one broke with him on it and he fell on his back into thorny weeds; but he was thankful he had missed the fence.

There were no cars in front of the house. He pulled in to the parking area, strolled down the sidewalk to the gate in the fence. He opened it and went to the front door, his combat boots clomping heavily on the floor.

He stopped at the door and thought for moment. He thought about what he would say. Then he unlocked it and stepped across the threshold.

He looked around the empty house, the dust collecting on white walls and counters. There were still some picture hanging on the wall, but they stared blankly at him, purposeless. A few had fallen to the floor.

"Mom... Dad..." he muttered. "I'm home."

They didn't find the body until a month later, when a homeless man tried to take shelter from the oncoming blizzard. Daniel Halbrook was buried in the Arlington Cemetary, where he rests to this day.

While in Iraq, he had lost his wife, children, and both parents.

Time: 20:57 Words: 430

Death after Death for +Sarah Davis

"Well what was I suppose to do?" the man asked. "Was I supposed to let her live on like that?"

He was young, about 16 or 17. He was in therapy by court order.

"What do you mean?" asked the therapist, jotting down a note on his pad.

"Well..." the man replied, "It's not like she was alive anyway."

The man stopped writing. He looked over at his patient; a hard look that made him squirm a little in his chair.

"Not alive?"

"No." he replied, looking down at his tennis shoes.

"Tell me..." asked the therapist, "Why do you think that?"

---

It was a cold winter. The roads were frozen over, the house was kept warm by the combination of the fireplace and the heater. The snow was six feet deep. I remember the wind blasting at the windows outside.

Mother had gotten sick from the chill air. Father was a scholar; he had been many places. He had said she would be fine, that no harm would come to her.

Me, I was at her side constantly. I stayed their through the hallucinations and madness while her fever slowly rose. Father was in the library with his books, his reading glasses always perched on the tip of his nose.

He thought it made him look distinctive. I thought he was an old fool.

I went to get him at mother's request. he arrived, his glasses still perched on his nose. He looked strange, almost skeletal; he hadn't been eating well the last few days.

He said everything would be alright. Then he asked me to leave.

---

"And your mother died that night?"

"Yes."

"How long ago was this?"

"9 years." replied the man. "9 years of that...thing, walking around the house. Masquerading as human."

"That was your mother!"

"No." he answered, as the door opened. "I don't know what it was, but it wasn't my mother."

And then the police took him away. Elsewhere, his mother opened her eyes once more as the coroner performed his last autopsy.

Time: 16:30

Arachni-what? for +Ayoub Khote

The world can be a deceptive place.

The man stood looking down into a small pit. He was staring at something; a small building. And by small, I mean it barely came up to his knees. He wouldn't have believed it had he not seen it; but there it was, teeming with small, arachnid life. It had happened overnight: he knew, because the previous day he had spent gardening, and now he had a tiny skyscraper in his back yard.

What? he thought to himself, shaking his head. Intelligent spiders? They've formed a colony, they're building...how?

He could even hear tiny voices shouting orders.

He thought about it. What had caused such a sudden, drastic change in the local insect life? What was different?

He looked over at his garden. There was nothing unusual; not really. A few ferns, a bush or two, but...

A plant was missing.

It was small and innocent; a purple flower growing on a stiff stem. He had bought it for a discount price at the local Wal Mart. It had been unidentified.

Surely not...

He looked down at the strange obstruction again, and the insects.

Some of them were chewing on violet petals, sitting on stems as they chatted to one another.

He sighed. "Great. The wife is going to love this..."

Time: 13:11