TAG - your it!
by Ecce_Signum

Comment:
Jimmy watched on from a point of safety and his brother Dougie got the wrath of Spots, the school bully that day. He fought valiantly, did Dougie, but to no avail. In the end, bruised and bloody, he had to hand over his lunch money.

School life could be so cruel.

Ent
by see

Comment:
"ahh, a customer", the old tree put hand on knee and bent down to greet the startled newcomer. "It's been so long since I've seen anyone out this way."

The hiker blinked in shock. That the tree moved was one thing, but that it spoke, that it blinked eyes and smiled with a mouth, well that was something else entirely. He was frozen with fear and panic.

"Please, do not be afraid, I shall not hurt you. I am but an old tree, and I have some wonderful pumpkins to sell."

"p..pumpkins. S..s..sell. y..y.. you. Tr..tr.." stammered the hiker, still rooted to the spot. Perhaps his paralyzing fear would have lasted forever, perhaps not, but suddenly the old tree bent down, picked up a pumpkin and stretched it out towards the man. As it always goes with fear, this was the action that caused a string to snap. The tension broke and the hiker, with a screech to put a banshee to shame, fled off through the forest.

The old tree sat staring after him, then looked down at the squash in his hand and sighed, placing it back into the pile.

"I lose more customers that way."

...and the sky burst forth with pools of wonderous, glorious color...
by ThatChickOverThere

Comment:
He had just finished an afternoon of fishing that day, and was slowly rowing his catch back to shore. The sun had started to go down, and the play of colors in the clouds and on the water, combined with the pleasant day and the three or four beer he'd consumed, had calmed his spirit considerably. Yes, he thought, as he finally approached his pier, there was nothing that could ruin this day.

Smiling, he suddenly noticed a strange movement in the clouds. They seemed to be flowing and twisting, forming into one spot above the lake. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Great, he thought, some kind of weird storm just has to come up and spoil my perfect day. How typical.

As he sat and watched the strange formations, it suddenly occurred to him that this was not like any kind of storm he'd ever seen. For one thing, the clouds remained light and wispy. They retained the color of the sunset and didn't go dark like heavier storm clouds should. Then, before his eyes, they began to form patterns and shapes, of a nature that should not be possible. Lower and lower they stretched, and his jaw dropped open in utter astonishment. They were forming into... into figures. Human like, but definitely not human. Now a bit of panic began to creep into him, and his amazed paralysis, which he hadn't even been aware had struck him, fell off instantly. He suddenly grabbed the oars and rowed madly for the dock, his eyes never leaving the figured shapes that were now breaking off the massive cloud and...

... my god, they were coming right for him, and fast.

With a strangled cry he redoubled his efforts. Rowing like a man possessed, watching as they came closer, and closer. Panic was running through him like wildfire, and a thin screeching reached his ears. It took a moment, but he realized that the sound was coming from himself, a scream building in his throat. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew that these cloud figures, these misty abominations were not friendly, and they meant death.

With a thundering jolt that threw him back, the boat hit the pier and the scream finally broke and he scrambled madly for the shore, almost knowing that it was pointless, but instinct kicking in. For a moment he thought he had made it, he thought he'd escaped. He cleared the pier and darted past the tiny beachfront, coming closer to the small wooded area that surrounded his cabin. A few more feet, only a few more feet. A guttural yell of triumph as he reached the first stand of trees and...

Some of the residents called it the most freakish storm of memory, that strange weather pattern that had developed that day. It was no wonder that they'd lost one of the cabin dwellers to it on the lake. He'd gone out fishing they said, and though his boat had been blown back in, he had never returned. Some say that he probably had one too many beer and had fallen in.

A breeze blew through the trees and the missing man's cabin door blew shut with a bang. It was not the water where he rested now.

In the sulfur fumes
by Rino63

Comment:
Professor Sinclair carefully sifted through the volcanic rock. He was the lead volcanologist on this project, and it was his job to make sure that the villages on the slopes and in the valley were either in no danger, or would be evacuated in time if they were.

The mountain had been considered long dormant until just a few weeks ago, when the tremors had started. Within days, it had started steaming and that was usually a sign of worse to come. So his team had been dispatched to determine the extent of the danger. Now, as he sat here taking readings and checking samples, his preliminary data was telling him that this volcano should still be long dormant. It just didn't make sen...

... and that is when the Professor caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked up quickly, startled. There, in the steam, stood someone. Some figure. The Professor's first thought was that one of his team had crept up on him, but that was not possible, he had just been in radio contact with them and they were clear on the other side of the mountain. The figure remained, motionless, and the Professor began to get an eerie feeling. Something wasn't right.

"He.. hello?" he stammered. Noting. The figure made no sound, moved not an inch. "Wh.. Who ARE you? What are you doing here?" The Professor grew a little more bold, yet still felt extremely uneasy. With still no sound or movement came from the figure, he took a step towards it.

It happened faster than he could even register that it had happened. One moment, the figure was there, the next, it had The Professor by the throat, and was suspending him above an open fissure in the rock. With a strength unparalleled, the Professor's throat was crushed instantly, and the limp body dropped into the fiery depths below.

The figure then turned, and with eyes that glowed with an amber and crimson flame, it launched into the air on wings of ebony, towards the far side of the mountain.

To feed.

Bright red trash
by momentaryawe

Comment:
The Red Knight had time. Time to think, to reflect, to wonder what had gone wrong. As the sun dropped on the horizon, he let his mind wander through his past, his life. The good and the bad. The joys and the sorrows.

He'd led a decent life. From a young age he'd always been a little better than his peers, but had maintained a modesty that enamored him to those around him. He was strong, fought well, risen through the ranks of the knighthood quickly. Yet he was also good, and kind, and never had an evil thought for anyone.

Even now, buried to his chin on this gods-forsaken beach, he could not muster up an evil thought. Instead, he only had pity for those that put him here, wondering what hardships in life they had to endure to turn them to such actions and evil deeds.

As the sun finally set, and in the days to come, as he roasted alive inside his helmet, and even as his mind failed him and took him to a world of fantasy, he fell to no thoughts of revenge. Instead, he passed on to the next life thinking only of how he could have helped those that had wronged him, and when his body was found some time later, he still had a smile on his face.

Self Winding
by ace flyman

Comment:
He picked up the object with reverence and awe. What was this thing? This thing that was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. It shone with a light that was otherworldly. In all his life, he'd never seen anything so different, so... alien.

In a world of black and white, the first shine of color became a legendary item of godly powers.

Church Tower
by bobnospum

Comment:
The first waves passed over without incident, in that quiet, timeless countryside. Just geese, migrating, they said. Like every year. Like every season, since before man could remember.

Just geese.

Just geese.

When the next waves came, they were too busy fighting for their lives to think much about geese.

Water Nymphs
by Breeee123

Comment:
It was like a dream. A dream, yet so startingly real that Jonas gasped and blinked back the tears that suddenly formed.

He came to this spot every week, this spot where the accident had happened. This spot where his life had changed forever, where his greatest and most precious gifts had been torn from him. Every week he visited and dropped flowers into the waters, gifts for the girls he lost that day.

Yet today, as he stared into the dark and foreboding waters, as the flowers drifted there, a vision of the girls began to form, and he thought that his mind was playing tricks. Yet even blinking, and wiping his eyes, they remained, slowly appearing in the ripples, their faces and eyes, as if they had never been gone at all. Their hair flowing in the mini-currents, their smiles both lighting his heart, and tearing at his soul.

When he could blink back the tears no longer, they began to flow freely, and each drop of them upon the water began to obscure the faces of his children, and as they faded once more, he uttered a strangled cry and tried to reach out for them, but they were gone.

In a whisper that he was never entirely sure he really heard, they called to him. They told him that they would always live on, in him, in his memories and that they gave him permission to move on.

He knelt there for some time after the water faded back to darkness, and watched as the flowers drifted away. Soon the tears stopped, and he wiped his eyes and a sad smile crept to his face.

"I love you, will always love you, and miss you so much." He rose, and started on his journey not only home, but towards healing.

The River
by SaraR

Comment:
Cyrian the Stout approached the bank. He had been traveling for weeks, and had faced all kinds of challenges, all kinds of enemies, and so far had defeated them all.

In front of him, however, was to be his greatest challenge yet. this lake was legendary for the evils that lived below its surface. To cross it, one had two choices. You could brave the stepping stones and deal with the tentacled horror that lived below the surface, or traverse the bridge and take your chances with the mage and his tasks he insisted you complete as toll.

Cyrian was a fighter. Not one for the mental tasks the mage required, and so had chosen the stepping stones. On the other side, the temple, wherein lay his goal, the Crown of Light. Breathing deep, Cyrian took his first step out onto the slick stones, and gathered his energy for the battle to come.

Guardian
by xianart

Comment:
They knew it would be time to say goodbye soon, and that was never easy. He'd been there for her since before she could remember. He'd been there for her through the good, and the bad. Through the laughter, and the tears. Through the anger, and the joy.

There comes a time however, that we all recognize. That we all come to dread. That time when the quality of life begins to fade. When watching them struggle up a flight of stairs becomes a struggle in our hearts. When the soft whimpers as the do something as simple as lie down becomes a whimper in our very soul.

We make it as easy as we can for them then, and we hug them, and we love them, and we try our best not to let the sadness show. He'd been her guardian and her friend and her savior, and soon it would be time to let him go.

But not yet. She hugged him close and she hugged him tight, and in her eyes the knowledge of what was to come, but in her heart the joy of what was still there. Her guardian, her friend, her savior.

Her pet.