Story A Day--- Cross and Martin, part 17--- "Attack", 535 words.....

Attack

I scarcely had a moment to register the murderous figure in the doorway before he was lunging toward me. His heavy frame fell against mine and as we toppled away from the door, I could hear a strained shuffling from the other room.

The suitor’s wild eyes were gaping wide with fury, his face covered in perspiration. His chest heaved and a guttural cry escaped from his lips as we collided.

My breath flew from my lungs as Manuel’s full weight fell on top of me. His own breath hissed in my ear and I caught the glint of his blade as it flashed in the sunlight. Gasping, as I was, for breath, I had no way of knowing if I had already been stabbed. The pain of meeting the floor, coupled with the cracking of my ribs as my breath was forced from my chest, prevented me from knowing, fully, the state of any other injuries.

Instinct forced my hand to reach for the knife. When I grabbed his wrist, it was then that I realized he was trembling more than I was. Though, there was great force behind the strength of his arm, I was surprised to see how weakly he held the knife. So loose was his grip on the metal, that the knife all but fell from his fingers as I seized his wrist.

The frailty in his grip, however, was only momentary. When he realized his error, he seized the knife forcefully and moved to thrust the knife in my direction. His eyes, though mad and wild in their look, did not seem able to focus on me, even as I was only inches from his face.

“Martin!” I could not see Cross, though I knew the strained shuffling from the other room was struggling attempts to come to my aid.

I suddenly felt the weight from my crushed chest lighten. As the suitor was lifted to his feet by Cross, I kept my hand around his wrist until it was wrested from my grip. Gasping and lightheaded from lack of air, I slid backward away from the staggering frame that stood over me. His face still wild and twisted, he seemed to be staring through the rooms, past Cross and myself. Even when I stumbled to my own feet, he didn’t turn his attention to me.

Slowly, between the gasps of his own breath, the suitor began to sway. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest against my cracked ribs, the sound of its beating throbbing in my ears. I exchanged looks with Cross, who was leaning against the wall, poised to move against our intruder even while he could barely hold himself upright.

The sound of the heartbeats in my ears suddenly doubled, the volume of the beats filling the entranceway. It was then that I realized the heartbeats I was hearing were not my own, but the suitor’s. I watched as the murderous suitor gasped at the breath choking in his throat. As his wild eyes focused once more on whatever he was looking at past me, the perspiration poured from his brow. He took two staggered steps forward and fell dead at my feet.

L is for Loch Ness Monster....

With Kelpie, for my 'K' entry, still fresh, I thought it'd be fun to stick to the water for a bit. So, while we're in the realm of Celtic water creatures, why not visit with the most famous and widely known of aquatic beasties---- the Loch Ness Monster. Though, Nessie, sort of skirts the line of supernatural creature as it is purported by many to be a cryptid, a creature whose existence has yet to be identified by the scientific community. Those who believe Nessie an unidentified animal, have speculated that it is from the line of Plesiosaurs, while the scientific community claims it's just a modern-day myth, or at the very worst--- a hoax. I've included the Loch Ness Monster as part of my Supernatural theme because, like Bigfoot, there's an, albeit EXTREMELY, remote chance that it's real, but, like ghosts, I won't believe it until I see it myself----- I'm a card-carrying skeptic, but, I can enjoy a smidgen of the illogical now-and-again-...

K is for Kelpie.....

Today's entry is dedicated to my wonderful social club pledge sister, who sent me off from our college sanctuary with a copy of "Scottish Folk and Fairy Tales", containing an inscription that the "magic and mischief of the Kelpie follow me".... She knew I had an affinity for water and for mischief...and for all-things Celtic--so the Kelpie seemed to suit---- though, I'm not quite as savage as many folktales paint Kelpies. Kelpies are Celtic water horses, believed to haunt the lochs and rivers of Scotland and Ireland. The Kelpie was known to appear as a "lost pony", though, its identity is given away by its constantly dripping mane. Most stories give the color of the Kelpie's coat as black, though there are a few that mention the color white. The texture of the Kelpie's skin is likened to the smoothness of a seal, but its temperature is "cold as death to the touch." Like many other tales of supernatural creatures, the Kelpie...

A to Z reflections....

Another A to Z challenge comes to an end--- another collection of posts and poetry have been written, another deep breath of relief is released. For my fellow bloggers that survived as well, it's another 'challenge-completed' notch carved into the writing desk. I've come to enjoy my yearly foray into the world of all things alphabetical. This was my third year, though it was only the second year I had a workable theme (which made the challenge substantially easier than the first year I attempted this challenge.) And, though my first year was difficult because my focus was so scattered, I found this year was more difficult because I lost the enthusiasm that came with the first year excitement----excitement which helped me plug along until the end of the challenge. Year 3 was a success in the sense that I completed the challenge, though, this was the year that almost wasn't---- Somewhere about a third of the way through the challenge, I seriously considered...

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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