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Fiction:  "The Storyteller's Guild"

     I don't know what happened. I don't know if my mind had given up the will to live through any more such pain or exactly what but I blacked out. Left in the mercy of this…beast.
     Within seconds, it seemed, I woke in a cold sweat and snapped up in bed. I sat there, once again hugging my knees, for what seemed like hours before I realized that the room was well lit by sunlight peeking through the blinds of the closed window. I lowered my legs off the edge of the bed but did not touch the stone floor before looking for shattered bits of glass. Of which there were none. The oil lamp that I had sent to its shattered doom was resting nicely upon the small table by the door where I had found it. I stood up and opened the shutters to be blinded by the radiant sunlight pouring into the room. This was a truly welcome sight.
     I walked to the small bathroom and stretched just inside the door to find my back and chest very tight, especially where the scratches had happened. I snapped my attention down to my chest and saw the shirt torn from top to bottom in the front. And after quickly taking the shirt off over my head I saw four widely spaced gashes in the back of it as well. I checked over myself. No damage at all. I stood frozen, and nude, for several more minutes before drawing bath water. After collecting my needed toiletries, and myself I slowly lowered myself into the warm water of the bath and took my time bathing. After the long bath I dressed myself and brushed out my hair, which was a coppery red at the time. I gathered my belongings and stuffed them into the small bag I had brought with me and stepped out of the bedroom. I remember intentionally leaving the shutters open, thinking it would do the room some good.
     I walked slowly down the stairway, still battling the soreness. Lauren and a younger couple who were well dressed and smiling warmly at my decent greeted me at the bottom.
     "You slept well I hope," The younger woman greeted me. I remember responding to her only with a beaten gaze.
     "Meredith, please meet Mr. And Mrs. McCollum," Lauren introduces.
     "Pleasure to meet the both of you, and thank you for your hospitality," I remember saying, shaking both of their hands.
     "Think nothing of it, we enjoy helping upcoming artists," Mr. McCollum stated, "Come, have breakfast before you go."
     I sighed lightly. Lauren intercepts me on my trip into the kitchen.
     "I told ye it would change ye," She stated quietly and walks to the kitchen. I follow, not wanting to insult by turning down the hospitality. I did have breakfast and talked a bit and left later that morning for my next destination which I don't directly recall. I do know I finished the rest of the tour without anything else weird happening. Well, there is the crazy drunk in Spain, but that is, my friends, another story. One a bit more appropriate for the kids.

About the Author

     Aaron Malcolm has been a staple in the fandom community of Oklahoma City for nearly ten years.  Currently he is working full time while writing science fiction and fantasy stories and pursuing his career as an author. 

Contact Aaron Malcolm

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