Blaise

The small breeze did little to stir the hot, dry summer air that seemed weigh down even the moon which was round and full as it poured it’s light from between the clouds that littered the sky. The stars beamed happily, free of their daytime ruler. They watched the only person in sight, a young woman who walked confidently about in the abandoned factories and the industrial area of Shady Glenn, which used to be a small farming town but had grown into a thriving metropolis. The woman’s footsteps were only drowned out by the hollow creaking of the door she pushed open, before edging her way inside. Cobwebs hung in the doorways and the corners of the rooms catching only dust now that their makers had gone, scattered to find a more sustainable food source. Still the woman walked through the rooms. Pausing to readjust her satchel she pushed the half broken doors open and peered cautiously into the largest room in the building. As she moved to stand inside the room she looked at her sorroundings, a small smile playing across her red lips.

Blaise had never attempted anything such as this before, nor had any of her kin, not for centuries. Filled with nervous excitement, she tucked her long wavy brown hair behind her ears as she walked almost silently across the bare wooden floor to the centre of the room. She knelt down upon the dusty floorboards and slowly took out everything that was in her bag. By the light that filtering in from the broken window, that had been smashed months ago by children to bored to know better, she laid out her tools in the positions she would need them in when she started the spell casting.

The place was perfect for what Blaise was attempting. The ley lines matched up perfectly. There they were, a shimmering all-most pattern that danced at the corner of your eyes, dissappearing if you looked too closely. It twinkled tantalisingly close to her, inviting her to draw upon its’ power. The power that the lines held was unlimited and would aide her in her quest, if she didn’t get side tracked by what it offered her. Many others had fallen victim to the ley lines and were drawn in too far along their rivers of power and been swept away.

Blaise shook her head and reminded herself of why she was here before drawing the circle of protection around herself. She remembered back to when she was first taught about spell casting by Grandma Eve. 'You need the circle of protection to stop any stray ley power escaping and causing havoc in the world. Most of all its' to protect you from drowning in the power that floods to your call.' Grandma Eve’s voice had been floating in and out of Blaise’s mind all day. The fact that she was dead didn’t seem to stop her memory from constantly warning Blaise of the dangers that lay ahead if she persisted with the spell she had planned. “This spell is one you should not cast,” Grandma Eve said in her whispery voice, “It needs a control that none has possessed for many years. Give up child. It will not do for you to cast this spell.” Blaise shook her head and Grandma Eve’s voice faded into the nothingness it came from. The preparations were almost over and then… and then the spell casting would begin…

Blaise sat with her legs crossed in the centre of the circle, facing one of the points of the penticle she had drawn on the floor with a piece charcoal she had found in the room next door, left over no doubt from some homeless waifs struggling to get warm. The light from the 5 white candles flickered across her face and naked body, illuminating it in the darkness. A bundle of fur lay to her left and a jar of herbal ointment rested in her hands. The bitter herbs in the jar had taken weeks of secret preparations to make. It combined plants that were scattered across the world, rosemary and thyme were the few of the more simple ingredients in the mixture.

Blaise closed her eyes and relaxed concentrating on building the mental and magical barriers that would allow her to safely access the power from the ley lines. When the barriers were in place Blaise reached out with her mind to tap into the ley lines power, careful not to be swept away. The power swam around her as she cut off her connection to the line of power. It glowed and floated directionless but bound within the circle. It was time to begin the next part of the spell, if even one word was mispronounced only the Goddess knew what would happen. Blaise shuddered just to think was what could happen, but she was deturmined all the same to continue with the spell.

The latin words flowed easily from her mouth as she gently removed the lid from the jar and began anointing herself with the ointment. She started with her forehead, to her nose, cheeks, chin. More and more of the ointment was taken out of the jar and smoothed over her skin until it coasted her with the sharp, bitter smell. With the final word of the latin invocation the ley magic found direction and clung to her skin, covering every wrinkle, hair and freckle on her body. Her glow lighted the room as only magic could. She breathed in its scent and relaxed, happy that the spell was so close to being successfully completed.

“It must end now,” Blaise thought as she picked up the furry bundle and rose to her feet. She flung the furry bundle around her shoulders and the reality of what it was became clear. It was the skin of a grey wolf. Its glass eyes twinkled with mischief anticipating what would happen next, it was being given another chance to live again. The magic combined both her skin and the foxes, forcing her limbs to bend and break into forms a human's body was never intended to go. Her nose and mouth moulded together and extended, a tail sprouted from her spine countless other changes happened as she screamed silently into the night before falling into the swirl of darkness that only unconciousness could provide.

Blaise lifted her head from the ground a whimpered. The pain had been so over whelming that she passed out. She could hear whispering and shuffling feet surrounding her. She struggled to her feet suddenly scared of the unknown presences in the room and the whispering suddenly ended and turned into a n eerie silence. There were the other witches and wiccans from her coven standing around her, a protective circle seperating her from the world outside. Blaise's eyed them carefully, there was no guarruntee of what they may do to her. Blaise carefully stood on her feet shifting her weight ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Sniffing delicately, Blaise could smell, no smell was to mild a word she decided, almost taste their fear in amongst the scent of candle wax and herbs from only a few hours before.

She darted at the youngest of the coven who was foolish enough to show up. They scrambled, falling backwards over a pile of old pallets, a small cry of alarm escaping them in the slience. Blaise smiled her wolfih smile, smug that she had managed to break their protecive circle so easily. Her claws clicked musically over the dusty cement and she darted from the building to her freedom. There she melted into the night leaving her family and friends to mourn and puzzle what she had so easily done and what they would never have to guts to do. Their voices faded as the wind shifted causing the scent of a rat to cross Blaise’s nose and her stomach growled. She licked her lips and began the hunt, the struggled for survival.

My Angel

Listen to each drop of rain falling
like the earth-bound angel calling
out for hope in her despair
She's lying all alone out there

“Help me, hold me warm and tight
Shelter me in this darkest night”
All alone she waits with her dirty curls,
Weeping tears of liquid pearls.

Thunder crackled overhead,
A muddy road to call her bed.
The coldness grips her as she curls up tight
She lies there giving up her fight.

Feathery wings of a silvery blue
bloody and broken, now a red tinged hue.
Calling, calling out into the sky
about broken wings that no longer fly.

Cast out from heaven for all of time
for a stupid senseless crime
Lying abandoned on the dusty floor,
Her God wont hear her anymore.

Untitled

Another attempted poem that is really baseless in its inspiration....

This is our forever ending love
A love that no longer can survive here in the cold
I’ll shatter my heart before you have the choice
To come after me and destroy me like all the others.

Love is transparent
but I can see right through you.
Are you really there,
Or just another dream?

Entangled in your heart strings
Playing a disjointed tune
Of my love for the one
Who needs me not.

I wish you need me like I need you
All I need is you forever with me
To help me forget my empty heart
That’s full of nothing but pain.

I’ll thread the needle
If you mend my broken heart
But that will never happen
For I live alone in my dungeon of misery.

~~ Shaddowdove~~

Red Ribbon

I like this poem and yes i actually wrote it, but i was under the influence of a few vodka cruisers at the time, so if it makes no sense thats why....


Red Ribbon

Forever winding, always surrounding
Is my little red ribbon
In me, around me joined with me
Always is my little red satin shadow.

Never knew the pain would hurt so much
Never knew how long it would flow
My pain reflects in all who see
My red ribbon fluttering by.

I’m cutting my red ribbon of pain
Making it all end
The time of healing has begun
But how long will it last?

My hope is fading
Though never truly lost
Time standing like a statue
Never moving on from the agony
Lasting forever and a day.

I’m cutting my ribbon of time
Stained with the agony of the past
Praying that time will pass
But how long will it take?

Red ribbon, red ribbon, my bloody red ribbon
Forever laced with pain
Soon the edges will fray away
And then my red ribbon will end.

I'll Be There

This is a poem that I found when i was on quizilla.com and i thought i sounded awesome so im putting it on here for no particular reason.

I'll Be There

Sweetened whispers at my ear
Bitter words I always hear
Wishing you were somehow near
But Im alone inside this fear
Understand the words I'll never say
How Im defeated by you everyday
Can't you see how I've cried
Don't you know that I've lied
I can't help but smile for you
I only wish that you knew
Sometimes things are better left unsaid
Blinded by false perceptions instead
Love forsaken in its core
It isn't here anymore
Lust for you became my sin
And I know that I've let it win
I put hope in what I can't achieve
Hoping somehow I could believe
And as the world comes crumbling down
As they scream without a sound
When they leave you out there to die
When you think no one hears your cry
Remember what you always knew
I'll be there when the world abondons you
- SadSoul777

(http://www.quizilla.com/cgi-bin/result/result.pl)

Shadow of a Doubt part 2

Ok here is the latest chapter sorry its a bit short but ive been a bit rushed for time thanks to my new job. Hopefully something eventful will actually happen soon but i needed to set the scene for the next chapter. Who will survive? Will Aly find the secret of the black haired beauty? Will her friends be drawn into the web of intrege? What about her boss? Is he apart of the conspirisy or just an innocent bystander? Is anything really as it seems? Just a few questions for you to think about untill the new chapter comes out....
~~Shaddowdove~~


Sleep pulled and beckoned me, my will to pay attention to the lecturer slowly eroding. I was unwillingly being rocked to sleep by the droning of his voice and the quiet scratching of pens made by fellow classmates who were actually paying attention to what was being said. On any other day I would be the same as them, listening attentively and taking down notes for late revision. But today was different. I felt like the sleepy, half drunk guy that usually sat in the back row when he bothered to turn up at all. Suddenly chairs were scraping as everyone stood up and chattered about today’s class while packing up their things and slowly making their way to the door. Great. A whole lesson was gone and I hadn’t learned a single thing.

I stumbled out the university’s front doors bumping into several worried looking classmates along the way. Ignoring them I wandered down the steps and into the rain. It felt like heaven was washing away my sins as the water rolled down my skin and soaked into my clothes. I stood there alone in my moment of bliss until someone collided with my side and almost sent me sprawling to the ground. I stared and nodded dumbly as the person apologised and raced off seeking shelter from the rain. Sighing softly I turned to do the same.

The walkway was full of people pushing and shoving, trying to get quickly to where they needed to go. I was in a daze blindly following the same path I always took. Then I saw her. The same long black hair and clear blue eyes, the same teasingly smug look on her face that dared me to follow her. I watched her, ignoring the swarm of people around me, crook a finger at me, giggle and walk away down the street. I tore after her stumbling and half falling over people as I followed her without knowing why and feeling only the need to find her. It was as if all the energy I had stored up during my time of sloth had been concentrated and focused into this one moment in time. Time lost all meaning to me as I fought to find her. Each time I saw her I raced off only to find she disappeared from view.

Whenever I went the wrong way she appeared to me and corrected my path. She was testing me to see how long it would be before I gave up. In the back of my mind I knew it was true, but all I knew was that I had to find her and be with her. It was a game of cat and mouse and unfortunately I was the mouse and she was the cat. She led me to where she wanted me and I had no choice but to follow her into the dusk. I felt like Alice who had unknowingly gone down the rabbit hole in search of the white rabbit of whom she only saw glimpses. But for some reason I didn’t care that I was chasing an illusion. I just wanted answers to my own dreams.

Late afternoon turned to early evening, the rain had finally stopped and still I was trying to find her in the maze of streets. Still she led me in this dance I was compelled to follow. The stars came out in all their twinkling brilliance only to be dulled by the continuous steady glow from the electric lights. I was exhausted from following the mere glimpses of her and began to break free from whatever spell she had put on me. Why was I following her? There was no logic to me following her and I began to doubt my sanity and myself. I lost her for a while and I stood shivering in the middle of a dirty laneway.

I looked around one last time and sure enough she appeared before me. She smiled at me. I knew she was pleased that I had followed her this long even though no words passed between us. She wordlessly beckoned me closer as friends often do. I sighed, relieved that the game was finally over so I could rest. I walked closer to her and reached out my hand but just as I reached her she walked backwards into a doorway that I hadn’t even noticed was there until now. I rubbed my eyes wearily and figured what the hell as I followed her into the dark doorway. How more messed up could my life get? I was wrong as per usual. The game was only just beginning but who would come out the victor?

Jacob of Sheppards Grove

Ok iv'e finally got around to editing this story so it actually makes sense... well as much sense as my stories make. Thanks to Matt for helping me edit it and giving me handy hints though it was so long ago you have probably forgotten. Oh and thanks to tara as well for kicking me in the ass to get me writing again. Hope you all like the changes and if you dont send me a message and i'll see what i can do to fix it up.
~ Shaddowdove

I’m the last one left now. The mill wheel lies silent as the graves I have dug for my fellow villagers. The animals are slowly dieing of starvation, there’s no one to feed them now, only me and my old bones that ache with the cold. I’m going to release them into the forest tomorrow, perhaps they’ll survive longer if they are free to forage for themselves.

As the last remaining villager I feel that it is my duty to record the truth of what happened to our village and not leave the fate of our reputations to the unreliable prattle and gossip of the near by towns. There are some things in this letter of mine that I will not go into detail about in order to retain some dignity for us all, including, naturally, what I may or may not have done when the village was cursed by one woman named Marnie the Candlemaker.

Marnie was an innocent women never a witch. She was guilty of nothing more than healing our hurts and selling her wears to us as her mother and her mother before her. We spurned the generations of help her family has given to us, and now I fear we are all paying the price. She was driven to her curse by my own lack of forgiveness, understanding and pity and by extension, that of the villagers as well. This is why she saved me until last. To force me to watch the deaths of the young, the old, and the strong. To bury those I loved and guided in the ground.

I thought about leaving with the remnants of the last surviving family, the Smiths’. They decided to try and escape the curse by fleeing to Dunthorpe, 2 days ride away. I knew that they would never make it that far; the curse was too strong for them to escape so easily. I know that they are dead even though no messenger would dare ride here to proclaim their deaths. The towns all around here know that we are a cursed people, and refuse to shelter us in case they anger the spirit that haunts us and drives us to our graves. So much for the generosity of Christians I guess. I see now that we are no longer any better than the heathens who blame what cannot be explained or that which people do not wish to explain on witches, sprites and evil beings. We are a people poor in individuality and rich in following the weak and pitiful. How could this happen? How did I let this happen? I am supposed to guide and protect these people as a gardener tends to his plants but I thought that I had long ago weeded out this … this hysteria and united the town in order to defeat all evil. I was wrong. I did untie the town but instead of defeating evil we created it by murdering innocent people. People like Marnie the Candle Maker.

I can do this no longer. I cannot bear the weight of all these deaths upon my shoulders. No, I am no longer worthy to be a child of God not with the murder and blood that stains my hands. Confession is good for the soul, as I have told countless people over the years, so this letter becomes mine. I only hope that it shall be enough to redeem the souls of the village and those I have wronged, Marnie especially.

She is coming for me I can feel it. I hope that this final act will release her from the curse she has placed on herself and on us. May God forgive my false accusations against the poor innocent lass. She is not a witch, but merely an angry women wishing for revenge against those who have wronged her.

May God let her rest in peace.

The Last Will and Testament of the no longer reverend Father, Jacob of Shepard’s Grove.