I’m still working on the scary story I’m writing for a Wattpad competition. Honestly, I’m having a little trouble with the horror genre. But perhaps if I try it with fewer words… The prompt is any classical horror element, a scraggly tree standing alone on a cliff and a wall with mysterious writing on it. Here’s a short piece containing it all.
Blood and Ice
By Ronel Janse van Vuuren
The blood oozed from the wound on Nathaniel’s neck. I stood completely still. Even in the pale light of the new moon the thick liquid was unmistakable.
‘Tonight we honour our pack, our coven and our alliance,’ Nathaniel said as he held a goblet up to his neck.
I couldn’t look away. Even as my stomach turned, my eyes were locked on the vessel in his hand.
‘No more will we fear the full moon,’ half those assembled chanted as Nathaniel drizzled blood on the scraggly tree standing alone there with us on the cliff.
My heart was hammering in my chest; it drowned out the crashing waves.
‘No more will we be hunted by beasts,’ the other half chanted as the cup was emptied.
I merely mouthed the words; I would not be bound by the spell.
Flames engulfed the tree.
Nathaniel cried out in pain.
The werewolves started to shift, unable to control themselves as the moon reached its apex.
The others of my coven started to chant. I could feel them linking to each other, trying to complete the spell Nathaniel had cooked up in his madness.
My heart raced. The wall of prophecy had been clear: if this spell was successful, it would do more than keep werewolves from turning. Acid burned my throat. I refused to allow an ancient evil to rise.
Calling on all the elements – using water from the ocean, fire from the burning tree, earth from where my bare feet dug into the ground, and wind from the strong breeze picking up around us – I negated their spell.
Bleary-eyed I watched as the werewolves surrounded me in their wolf-form. My mouth tasted of blood. The tree no longer burned. Most of my coven lay lifeless on the ground. I had been successful.
‘Why?’ Nathaniel asked.
‘Because none of us were ever meant to be immortal.’
I sighed as the ice-coffin sealed around me. If Nathaniel ever tried this spell again, I’d be there to stop him.
Okay… Was that scary? I don’t really read scary stuff. After the nightmares that tormented me as a tween when I read RL Stine’s books, I’ve been avoiding the horrific. Seriously, even awake I thought our car might be alive (possessed, whatever). I’ve been watching what can be classified as horror, but vampires, werewolves and witches aren’t all that scary. Perhaps because the monsters in real life are scarier? Someone I see on a daily basis was shoved off his bicycle, beaten, cut with a broken beer bottle and robbed in broad daylight. And judging by the results of our legal system, monsters don’t get their just deserts.
Anyhow, seeing as I can only see the horrific in real life and evil cars (and monstrous teachers), I’ll need all the advice I can get on this story. It has everything the prompt desires. But is it suited to the horror genre? Is it scary? Please leave your thoughts in the comments. And, as always, thanks for reading.