I feel like such a lazy a-hole guys! I haven’t brought my game this week and I feel like I have failed you all! *Hides under the bed covers and silently sobs* I know I still need to write my book review of The Darkest Part of the Forest but writing good reviews takes a while! I have just been so exhausted from work that I don’t want to do anything! I just want to lay in bed and watch anime all day or Bates Motel (even though I am on the last episode of season 4 and now I have to wait for season 5 to start on Monday).
So tonight is another Sharing Saturday (because I don’t feel like writing anything lengthy). But fear not! You guys are in for a treat. This is a little excerpt from a short story I wrote (that is like 870 words from completion). It was going to be for a short story competition back in January but I was still indecisive about the ending (so I didn’t enter the contest). I know…I know…I really need to get my act together. Someone should keep me motivated or something! Motivation is the key to success! Well…that’s what I am told anyways.
This short story is called The Scissor Sisters. It is about two twin witches that were born under the Blood Moon prophecy. Their family comes from a long line of witches but are under a curse. Every sixth generation a set of twins is born but on the eve of the twin’s 18th birthday they would feel a compelling urge to unwrap the scissors from its box in order to kill people. The curse is born from the scissors. Once I finish wrapping this short story up I’ll post the whole thing so you guys can read it all. ❤
“I knew exactly where the box was placed. The box that was mummified in red ribbon, wrapped in crushed oxford blue velvet, tucked neatly away for no one else to find. The sister’s always knew where the box would be hidden in case another Blood Moon should arrive. The Blood Moon prophecy was the bane of our existence. It is what guided us, controlled us, and made us fearful of that coffin shaped box concealed so perfectly in the dark. We couldn’t escape our predetermined fate but we could definitely fight against it.
Our aunt Noelle believed wholeheartedly in the curse while our mother thought it was a bunch of hogwash, but my mother couldn’t deny the strange parallels that our family faced every sixth generation. Undina and I were the newest sixth generation and our eighteenth birthday was quickly approaching. Aunt Noelle once told us that on our eighteenth birthday we would start to feel strange urges or uncontrollable impulses. That the fire in our veins may react even stronger than before. These compulsions would be caused by an unspoken force, and this subjugation would be from the Solstice Scissors.”
The Solstice Scissors were created in 1693, during the peak of witchcraft and dark magic. Witches were hidden amongst the townsfolk of Aether, keeping to the shadows and dimly-light alley ways, but there was one witch who wasn’t afraid to be known. Morgana Sable was powerful as she was mighty, and the people of Aether knew that. This power was due to her wealthy husband Bennett Sable. He came from old money. Old money that boasted fine Cuban cigars in-between the onset of wealthy seasoned men’s fingers, the finest porcelain you could imagine, and imported goods like silk, spices, and household decorations. One of these ornaments was the Speculum. Morgana possessed a black mirror that could bring forth information from anyone’s subconscious mind or higher self. It was said that she could reach the most inner parts of one’s soul and bring out the sins of all those who were damned. The tar-like sins were what fed her dark power. Her power was endless, continuously flowing like a river twisting and clawing its way through a forest.
Three nights before the Blood Moon Solstice, Morgana had a vision in the Speculum. The mirror depicted a pair of silver shears embossed with thorned vines and bloomed roses. The blades of the shears were encrusted with rust colored blood and they lay dormant in a coffin shaped box. Slowly the vision changed and someone’s hand reached into the box. Morgana watched the vision tentatively, waiting to see whose hands had grasped the blood stained scissors. The vision panned outward revealing waist-length ebony colored hair and a gown that was as scarlet as blood. She knew that hair and she knew that gown, because that person in the vision was her. This mirrored Morgana turned to face the real one, blood seeping from her eyes and mouth. She then started walking towards the real Morgana, scissors clutched in her delicate ashen hands. The real Morgana and the reflected one stood face to face. The reflected Morgana then spoke the enchantment,
“Two twins born
Will bare the thorns.
All will mourn
Under the Blood Moon scorn
Each oath sworn
As the crown adorns
Left in forlorn
Every soul reborn.”