March Madness – Certain Chaos – Day Three!!

Hullo! 🙂 It’s Day 3 of the newfound madness –the #marchmadness!!– anddddd… I’m surprised I wrote even this much tonight. I’m half asleep and still not on par, but at least I’m writing after a month of practically nothing. Hoping to reach the appropriate goal tomorrow when it’s no longer a weekend and I have a few hours to myself. Fingers crossed!

The prompt for today was — log — and, let the rambling nonsensical mess begin! Think this day’s writing “finished” Chapter One, haha! XD (for the most part. It’s not a proper end, I know; heck, it’s not even a proper story. My writing is all up in wazoo land and going nowhere! I’m sorry, to anyone who may be reading.)

Today’s Wordcount: 1354
Total Wordcount: 4118


Liquid rewards for this post will be donated to the @freewritehouse! 🙂




A crackle sizzled through the air —a bizarre, sharp sensation that flowed out from the woman, raised the hairs on Henry’s arms, and then raised his eyebrows.

Moving his gaze from Sebastian’s to hers, he hopped back an inch as her eyes pierced into him, through him… eyes that were no longer green but a mixture of white and purple and as bright as a bolt of lightning. It was as though a storm raged within her and was about to burst free, and he didn’t want to be caught in the firing line. He pressed himself up against the wall and shrank back as the very air began to shift from side to side, almost in time with the music.

When he and Sebastian began their treacherous whispers of finally escaping Harclyffe and the stolen town of the same name, this electric woman wasn’t quite what he had imagined when his friend slapped his knee, leapt to his feet, and boldly claimed to have the answer, to just leave it with him and they’d be out of the madhouse before the next new moon.

The crackling intensified and the shifting air took on a similar electric hue to that of the woman’s eyes. The music stopped, the floor stopped swaying, and the colourful baubles that illuminated the room ceased their flashing. Against each wall were silver sconces every two paces and locked in tight were white candles. Previously unlit, they now flared into life with flames that held a purple sheen so unnatural, so bizarre, Henry near forgot his disgust at Harclyffe’s ‘nightclub.’

In slow motion, Harclyffe turned his bulbous head and faced them —as though he knew exactly where the crackling noise came from, who the cause of the unsettling fire was, and who had dared disrupt his deranged disco— and just as the orange embers embedded within his gaping eye-sockets met theirs, lightning bolts shot from the woman’s mouth and pierced his cheek.

His balloon-shaped head didn’t deflate, though Henry near expected it to, and though he was only stunned for a fraction of a moment, it was more than enough. The deluded youth shrieked and scattered, screaming as they stumbled over one another, and the avalanche of bodies felled Harclyffe with a ground-shaking tremor that rivalled that of his conjured bass. Sebastian punched the window, shattering it into a thousand shards, and leapt over the edge, his bound as agile as that of a leaping cat, then grabbed at Henry’s arm, pulling him over the shards like a caveman dragging his woman to a cave.

“What the fuck, man?” Henry shouted, grateful that he was wearing a rather thick coat.

“The barrier’s down, you stooge. On your feet. Go, go, go!”

“What about… her?”

“What about her?” Sebastian grinned, then dove into the thick grass.

Henry gaped. His friend was insane —now they’d have two of the damned balloon-heads after them! He stumbled to his feet and ran after the blonde-haired twit, barely able to see anything in front of him, then ploughed straight into a warm body with eyes as large and white as two full moons. It was the woman. How the hell had she gotten there?

As serene as a Goddess, she raised her face to the sky and closed her electric eyes, standing as still as a statue amidst the tumble of weeds. Raising an arm into the air, she unlatched a thin silver bracelet that swiftly fell into the grass without the slightest sound, then reopened her eyes. They were normal again, or so he assumed. He couldn’t see anything in this overgrown mess!

“You and your diamond are coming with me, sweet cheeks,” she purred, her voice nothing like it was moments ago beneath the terrible music on Harclyffe’s dance-floor. The regal qualities were gone, as was the snappishness. “Quickly now. Loren will discover our lost connection soon.”

“Uh, Loren?” Henry asked once more, entirely confused. “Connection?” Where the hell had Sebby gone? Surely he’d realise that he was no longer at his heel and would be turning back around for him. Oh wait, of course not; every man for himself, right? They were free from the confines of the town-hall and had re-emerged into a world that was no longer theirs.

“Now’s not the time.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him further into the tangled growth. He didn’t resist. He had no idea what the hell was going on, but they couldn’t remain near Harclyffe —they’d be dead before the sun rose once more! Their bodies would be fuelling that cursed machine and the diamond would be back inside the damned thing, powering it as the freak watched their bodies disintegrate just as all the others had. It was probably a fitting end considering how many bodies he had helped put into it… he swallowed and quickened his steps, inwardly cursing at each hidden crack, broken step, and uplifted tree-root that attacked his feet and tried to trip him over, and focused on trying to navigate a city that was no longer the city he remembered.

The town-hall had been situated right in the centre of the small city and it seemed like they were heading in the direction of what had once been a lush and vibrant park, a quiet place situated on the edge of the river that had routinely been overrun by the occasional drug addict, drunk, and midnight vandal. It was probably a much nicer place these days, despite the mutated trees, but it was too close. The freak would find them there, easily.

The woman took a sharp turn and Henry near flew into a nearby tree as he involuntarily turned with her.

“Would be nice if I could bloody see,” he muttered.

“Shhh,” was the only response.

They started climbing uphill which, if he recalled correctly, would place them by an old set of awkwardly-placed traffic lights that had caused more accidents than they had ever stopped, and was conveniently located by a pub he had frequented quite often back in the day before the world went to hell. Wonder if we could stop for a beer, he thought to himself, grinning inwardly despite the fear thudding beneath his coat. Maybe Seb would be in there; it was his watering hole, too.

Another sharp turn, though this time he prepared himself for the arm-bending fling, and then they slowed. Crickets chirped in a cacophonous roar that circled from every direction —an orchestra of insects that had been unable to penetrate the silence of before— and amazed by a sound he had not heard in so long, Henry walked straight into a fallen log and fell flat on his face, the woman letting go of his arm at just the right moment so as not to plummet alongside him.

Familiar laughed resounded both loud yet barely audible beneath the screeching bugs, and an arm reached down and pulled him back to his feet.

“Glad you got here in one piece, Hazza,” Sebastian exclaimed. “Pity that tree didn’t. How’s about a drink? We’re by the Carriers, think there’s anything left after all these years?”


“Who else would be offering you an out-of-date drink in the dark?”

Henry blinked, still unable to see anything other than the vague silhouettes of overgrown trees and grasses, and of course, the two bodily shapes that stood on either side of him. “Think the light-show blasted me eyes,” he groaned, then paused. “The Carriers? We’re too close to ol’ balloon-head. We need to keep moving.”

“We’ll leave at daylight,” the woman interrupted. “You’re blind —sorry, for what it’s worth— and both of our… uh, balloon-heads… are more adept in the dark, as I’m sure you know.”

“More adept in the dark?” Henry snorted. “Here we are, in open darkness. Sounds brilliant, sweet cheeks. Who the hell are you, anyway?”

“Cassandra,” he could hear the smile in her voice. “And I’m merely a slave, just as you, wanting to escape a life not of my choosing.”




Crazy ‘Certain Chaos’ header image thing created by meeee