Vanished

250-word fiction challenge and Write of Passage

A new season of Write of Passage just started. I am thrilled to participate in the best online community I’ve had the privilege of being a part of. Each week for the next 5 weeks, there will be an assigned writing prompt. Starting next week, you can expect my essays to land in your inbox on Wednesdays.

In the spirit of still publishing this week and the upcoming spooky season - I took my hand at writing a short fiction story about a coven of witches. Oooooh scarrrry. On December 8th, I will be participating in a 250-word microfiction challenge. Writing fiction has always been extremely difficult for me. It has been easier to write out of true experiences than to craft new worlds and believable characters that the reader feels connected to.

At the beginning of the challenge, writers are randomly assigned a genre, an action and a word assignment that they must follow.

I asked ChatGPT to randomly generate my constraints to simulate the competition. The following was given:

Genre: Fantasy

Action: Discovery

Word Assignment: Enchantment

I appreciate being able to experiment with new writing styles among this supportive group of subscribers. Enjoy this story and happy spooky season.

---

Vanished

Since her mother vanished in the woods seven years ago, Elara camped countless times on the trails that are the last known home of her soul. The forest was more of a home than her beige city apartment that harbored the mother-shaped void in her life.

Elara wandered these woods through even the worst elements, like one October evening the temperatures danced close to freezing. As the rising moon backlit enchanting emerald pines, wind funneled violently through the colonnade of trees chilling her bones. Elara grabbed the fur hat from flying off her rosy ears. Clutching tight to her backpack, she hastened, searching for ground suited for a tent. The steep ridgelines broadened, and wind carrying speckles of snow blew her hat off her head.

As she chased her tumbling hat, smoke started scorching her chapping nostrils. Six women cloaked in black holding hands around a raging fire came into view. Chanting suspended in the darkening canopy like embers from the fire.

Embrace the flickering flame's call,

Dance with shadows, heed our thrall,

Surrender mortal bonds, your might,

Or be consumed in endless night.

She wanted to run. She was frozen in her tracks. Six hooded faces turned to meet Elara, stepping in unison to surround her. Their chants entombed her. Five knives were unsheathed capturing the glint of the moon.

Elara squinted to hold back tears. She grabbed hold of the cross hanging from her neck surrendering to her fate. The last knife was unsheathed and an all too familiar face replaced the reflection of the moon on the glimmering blade.

---

Thank you

Siesta in the Storm

,

Sairam Sundaresan

, and

Rick Lewis

for your feedback on this short story. I am grateful to have all of you in my life and for the time we spend together each week chatting and reading each other’s work.