Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Oktober Thirty-First: Her Wifely Duties

 Just watched some Spooktacular South Park and an evil boarding school movie, so where this is from, I don't know at all. It's the last of Oktober stories, written and done.
 I'm liking this site so well, I may just change my mind about a complete hiatus during Novembre & post the occasional excerpt from my forming novel here-- the ones that are too spicy or brutal to post on my NaNo author page, here. Either way, it's been a blast and a freshening influence on me-- thanks for coming by, and check back in December for the editing fun. 

 Peace, and Happy Novelling!



Her Wifely Duties

By Mari Kozlowski

 Just before he opened the front door, he flashed on fire, blood, smoke. His hand was already turning the knob when the Apocalypse vision stopped him, but it was too late. The motion had been made, a tacit invitation, and what was outside wanted in; it pushed with the force of a hurricane.
 Edward’s visions stopped when his heart did. The rider slipped a sword through his chest and out, quickly, to be sure. In the kitchen Natalie heard a muffled yelp, then nothing. 
“Ed?” She kept stirring her sauce, and called again, “Edward? Was someone at the door?”
 That man, she thought, no consideration; he never answered unless she screamed, and then he called her a nag. She’d been fed up for years, really, but felt stuck. Stuck doing what she was supposed to do.  
“ED!!!’ she yelled.

 Nothing, still. Maybe he’d gone outside to deal with whoever it was. Or maybe he’d fallen asleep in his TV chair in front of Judge Judy while he waited for dinner.
 The sauce bubbled up suddenly, splashing her. She hissed in pain and reached to turn it down to a simmer when a sound caught her… a deep, pounding clunk, behind her. And a soft, half-heard exhalation.
“I’m busy,” she said, “making dinner for my husband.” On the handle of the pot, her fingers trembled. And the clunking continued, drawing nearer.
 “I’m warning you,” she said in high, thin voice, “get out or you’ll be sorry.”
The clunking ceased and an armored hand gripped her shoulder with the weight of an avalanche.
 “I said I was busy,” Natalie yelled, gripping the pot handle. She spun, flinging the sauce in the faces of the startled horseman and his mount. It stuck and burned them, clinging to skin and hair alike. Then their smoking evil eyes grew wide at the sight of giant wings springing from Natalie shoulders, her height stretching till she loomed over them.
 Her wings waxed radiant, shining brighter and brighter till the light of them was agony to the deathly intruders. As they cowered beneath her she swept out her divine sword and sliced through both of them with a single upward slash. A burst of red flame came from their two necks, and a hideous stench that faded away in an instant. Their bodies fell to ash and disappeared, and Natalie rushed to the living room to find Edward.
 He lay near the open front door, squashed and bloody, but when Natalie bent and pressed her hands onto his chest, it began once more to rise and fall with breath. The crushed bones of him filled out again, and his legs stirred. He was back.
 Natalie’s wings folded themselves up into nothingness on her back and her face lost the gleam of righteous anger and settled into mild annoyance. It was a look Ed had seen plenty in their 10 years of marriage.
 “Did I fall asleep just when it's time to eat, again?”
“Yes. On the floor. I’ve told you, Ed, 2 beers after work, not 4. Now would you please set the table?”
"Okay, Peaches. Sorry.”

 He got up, shook himself.
 He looked fine now, and there was no noise of screaming or chaos from outside… this had to have been their first stop on the way. Talk about dumb luck; her boss should be happy.
“It’s alright, honey.” Natalie told him. “Only the sauce burned being on so long— I think we’ll have to call out for pizza tonight.”
 Ed shook his head. “You’ll just do anything to get out of making dinner, won’t you?”