The Ladies of Horror Picture Prompt Challenge August 2019 {[All Authors]}

This amazing Picture Prompt challenge has been hosted for the last 3 years by our lovely, Nina D’Arcangela. She selects four pictures and distributes them out to all the women authors who sign up to play along. Check out everyone’s work here:

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August 20th – Monster Apparent by Angela Yuriko Smith

August 22nd – The Marauder by Kathleen McCluskey

August 24th – Carni-Val by Lori. R. Lopez

August 26th – Childhood Nightmares by A.F. Stewart

August 28th – If Only We Had Listened by Melissa R. Mendelson

August 30th – Earth and Air by Sabrann Curach

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August 20th – Lock the Cellar Door by Sonora Taylor

August 22nd – The Hogs Ate Ashes by Elaine Pascale

August 24th – Hell Hath No Fury by Tiffany Michelle Brown

August 26th – They Didn’t Listen by Rie Sheridan Rose

August 28th – A Cat’s Paw by Mary Ann Peden-Coviello 

August 30th – Storm Child by Christina Sng

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August 21st – Echoes by Naching T. Kassa

August 23rd – Blame by Kyra Starr

August 25th – A Safer Place by Terrie Leigh Relf

August 27th – Descent by Suzanne Madron 

August 29th – Wrong Turn by Bailey Hunter

August 31st – {Untitled} by Asena Lourenco

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August 21st – Strong as Marble, Warm as Blood by Scarlett R. Algee

August 23rd – I Spy by Ela Lourenco

August 25th – Eyes of the Beholder by Marge Simon

August 27th – The Other by Michelle Joy Gallagher

August 29th – Death March by Lydia Prime

August 2019 Ladies of Horror Picture Prompt Challenge: Death March @LydiaPrime

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Death March
by Lydia Prime

Eyes of amber reflected a raging fire. From toe to fingertip the infection bred as black veins trailed through her alabaster form. It’s said that looks can kill, but for her, a single touch was enough. Victims could do nothing but watch as their flesh bubbled and melted from bone. Her skeletal army building to an unfathomable mass, she collected any creature that crossed her path.
Armada in tow, she made her way through the veil and massacred those who stood against her. Fallen enemies lay in her wake as the true target of her death march emerged. Her diseased hands wrapped around his throat with a strength he’d never known. While his fury turned to dread, sinew slowly boiled away. At last, his cry of outrage ceased. Euphoric, she beheld the pitiful carapace of a once fearsome ruler.
The legion of dead drew near and watched in terror as she took her throne. She smirked as her gathered rabble bowed in supplication before her.
Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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July 2019 Ladies of Horror Picture Prompt Challenge: Next Meal @LydiaPrime

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Next Meal
by Lydia Prime

“Hello?” Whimpering from the darkness startled cautious visitors; their footsteps came to a standstill. “Is, is someone there?” The voice asked weakly.

Twenty feet from the opening, they huddled close together, not sure where the voice had come from. A summer breeze blew through the open room, wafting the scent of fear and sweat toward the damp chasm.

“I can hear you, please, help me,” the voice pleaded and the feet crept closer, certain a little girl was calling to them. Heel to toe, they made it to the edge and peered down, their flashlights just barely able to penetrate the darkness; perhaps a trick of the light, but one was certain something skittered across the ground from one corner to the other.

“Hurry, please!” She called out again; her voice was beginning to sound impatient and less distressed. The men looked at each other before deciding which one of them would go down there and save the girl. With a heavy sigh, the smaller of the two began his descent into the darkness.

CRACK. CRUNCH.

“Help me!” He shouted to his friend. The sound of flesh tearing from bone echoed through the cavernous pit; a scream from below drove right through the man trembling above. Hesitantly, he shined his light below and saw his friend scattered all over the floor and walls. His breath caught in his throat, Where was the … thing that did this!?

Rapid scraping against metal; it was coming. His mind blank, his body failing to remember how to move, to scream; helpless and frozen he stayed as a white creature exited the concrete opening. It had the horns of a stag and the face of a decomposing ram; its slender body turned, showing the butchery that covered its matted fur. Tears began to well in the man’s eyes as it showed off knifelike claws, tapping them together and watching as the crimson bits dribbled from each one.

“Delicious, but still…” came the warbled female voice, as its red eyes locked on its next meal.

 

Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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June 2019 Ladies of Horror Picture Prompt Challenge: Decision @LydiaPrime

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Decision
by Lydia Prime

He stands before us, judged not by a jury of his peers but that of the high counsel. We watch the screen replay the despicable act he’s accused of, some snicker while others shake their heads. I hear the ticking, the effervescent metronome of my mechanical mind; I know it’s almost time.
The man, now on his knees, tears and pleads for mercy. I’ve seen everything, past, present, and future – this wouldn’t be his last act. The counsel listens, watches the man cry and beg, though his sniveling face and empty notions of never doing it again fall on deaf ears.
We resign and leave him sitting in his home-made puddle of regret. I watch the others deliberate, unable to ignore the constant noise of the mechanism in my head. The tick-tock-ticking finally stops and I know what’s next. The others stand and I follow suit; upon entering the court room once more we see our accused no longer crying. Now, cross-armed and smirking, he’s let his true self appear.
“Mr. Habert,” the judge with a television head begins, “we have made our decision.” The man stands and walks toward the counsel, looking each of us over with hate and rage in his eyes.
“Mr. Habert, it is of our opinion that to simply punish you for this…” another judge, this one with a galaxy floating around him, trails off, disgusted for a moment, “would not be true justice.”
“You will be forgotten, your name stripped, and you sir,” I say, “you, yourself will be erased.”
I watch the man’s lips curl as he begins to laugh, he shouts obscenities and demands that we’ll regret this. Though, the final judge, a female made entirely of timber, reaches out to him. She slowly peels off layers of bark from her own limbs and lays them out carefully; each piece containing a story, a retelling of his life in print. Our guards hold him back as he tries to snatch them in a frenzied madness.
I twist some knobs through the clockwork on my head and watch as he painfully ages in front of us. The guards let him drop to the floor, weak and brittle. He peers up at the counsel, through sickly eyes, and cries out for mercy; this time his pleas are genuine.
“Any last words?” Asks a judge through ever changing faces on a fuzzy screen. The man shakes his head, all fight lost. The wooden judge locks the strips of his life into a furnace.
“So be it,” chimes the judge whose galaxy is now in over drive; every star and planet zipping around him as if it might explode. “Your atoms will be spread across the universe.” He smiles as the fear in the old man’s eyes grows.
We all watch as the now elderly convict slowly breaks away into a shimmering sort of dust, inch by agonizing inch. He screams, and we smile as the show has only just begun.
Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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May 2019 Ladies of Horror Picture Prompt Challenge: Fill in for Fate @LydiaPrime

The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

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Fill in for Fate
by Lydia Prime

Fragile as rose petals, the tomes must be rewritten, rebound; the lifeblood of those who’ve gone before, wasted. Their scent causes my eyes to water, the text itself brings on a feeling of burning within my soul. Who began these works? I wonder while I glance at the shelves surrounding me. My tears stain the sheet as they drop from my face. Another page I must rewrite, Why does this ache so much?

As the night wears on and the candles fade, I do too; my chest heaves deeply. Who else would willingly take on such a task? My mind wanders to all those who’d ventured this chamber before. “Work quickly,” words slither through my ears as venom does my veins; the only advice received from the other.

I carefully ink the final page and feel my soul slowly fading from my body. I chose this, I know, but to parade as one of the fates seemed much more glamorous than how this wretched task feels.

Shallow breaths, my pulse in my ears; one word left, I don’t wish to do this. A language that has flown so freely through my mind to my hand, one I will never speak, yet I have written so clearly. Shedding tears for myself, I scribble the last of it, breathing has become a chore; the warmth grows deep from within.

Wailing, my fingers twitch and I can feel my body shutting down. My skin feels as through it’s slipping off my bones; my spirit ready to escape. As I lay down the scribe, through shimmering vision I see another tome claiming its form.

Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

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