Quill of Mnemosyne

Tag: Origin

  • 008: Welcome to the Otherworld

    008: Welcome to the Otherworld

    A tall skeletal man lay withering between the trunks of a dark twisted forest. Black brambles strangled the thick violet bark of an oak behind him. A pale flicker of light pushed through the mesh of spiny branches that tangled together into a canopy. It danced across the man’s face, revealing a distorted monstrous sight.

  • 006: Lockjaw, the Beginning

    006: Lockjaw, the Beginning

    A young, handsome, red-haired man awoke, and sat up in his wooden framed bed. Michael Ó Fiaich, son of a huntsman. Son of a hermit. Stood up on a pair of tired legs and stumbled his way across the room to his clothes. The early morning gave him no light. The sun had not yet…

  • 005: Nightmare Smile

    005: Nightmare Smile

    Her heart knew the truth. Katie was anything but safe. She lay, helpless on the floor behind the two men. With every shaky step Mikhaela prayed that her feet would keep moving. She was her sisters only hope, and stupidity, stubbornness and dumb luck were all that was keeping her moving. There was no chance…

  • 004: Wind and Wheat Stubble

    004: Wind and Wheat Stubble

    Wind whipped past Mikhaela’s face as she cycled through the streets of Lower Billington. The cold air stung, adding more water to her already tear stained eyes. Her thin cotton pyjamas kept her as warm as an ice-cube in a freezer, but she didn’t care. Shivering through fury, fear, and the frost she pressed on.…

  • 003: Silence and Screaming

    003: Silence and Screaming

    In the garden below a small tornado silently ripped its way through overgrown grass, towards the iron gate. Devastation followed in its wake as it carved a path through the tangled undergrowth. Plants were torn from the ground, mud splattered across the already soiled walls of the rundown house. Yet the sun, as it poked…

  • 002: Strangers in the Garden

    002: Strangers in the Garden

    Another gust flew into the room, tugging at Katie’s shirt sleeves. She shivered again, but not just because of the cold. It felt like someone had just run their finger down her spine. Panicking slightly, she jumped backwards. Her arm leapt into the pile of clothes at the foot of her bed.

  • 001: The Birth of Cacophony and Hush

    001: The Birth of Cacophony and Hush

    Windows shattered. Dogs howled. Alarms screeched. And none of them could compare to the sound erupting from the baby’s mouth. Blood trickled from the infant’s ears, but the mother barely noticed. She smiled, holding her little girl close.