ArtsTalk Blog - Intermediate Short Story 3rd Place Winner - Karissa-May Gadsby

The South Simcoe Arts Council has been shining a spotlight on up and coming writers of all ages, in all genres through its Creative Works Writing Contest for six years.

We are excited to share the winners writings with you over the next few months.

Please enjoy this instalment of our Creative Works Youth Writing Contest winners series featuring Intermediate Short Story 3rd Place Winner - Karissa-May Gadsby

This award is sponsored by Dian & Gary Bowers

by Karissa-May Gadsby

My eyes peel open as if they were bound together by slime, I look up to the dark red sky, no white fluffy clouds here. Instead of afraid I'm...comfortable as if I'd been here before. I turn in a slow circle to see the mountain of bodies I pyramid on top of. Before not wondering why I hadn't wondered about the soft floor beneath my feet. Where the hell am I? I scatter down the mountain of bodies not bothering to look back, focused deeply on getting to my destination. I look around to see torches light up a path through a cave, I walk through it intensely. Not feeling myself I collapse, who am I? A question I'd been asking myself a-lot recently.

A deep cruel voice echoes through the cave, "Come to me my child, I am here for you" with the fog in my head drifting away my body releases me to go towards the voice, all consequences considered. A bright light pierces my eyes as I enter a garden with a large tree, a bright clear pond, roses in the dirt and bees fluttering in the breeze. I see no person.

I wander around the garden admiring the scenery at its most. I turn to see the bright clear pond now a frightening shade of red, thick substance. "Blood" I whisper into the wind. I walk over to the pond, kneel down and stare in it, a reflection to my dismay appears. A gruesome red slimy face with yellow eyes, a star on his forehead and horns like a bull. "My child" the face speaks. A part of me wishes to say "Father" while another wants to scream and run. I say nothing.

"You are my greatest accomplishment, and you will do as I say", with no hesitation I nod. The blood pond starts to bubble, like water in a boiling pan. I rise to my feet and jump back, still not worried about what is happening. The blood shoots up towards the sky like an upside down waterfall constantly running. I fall looking up to the sky in awe of the once pond. The blood turns a shade of black before falling back into its original place. I shield my eyes and put my head face first on the grass. The figure I once saw as a reflection walks to me, real. "I knew you could do it Lazarus, you have your wish, use it wisely" then he disappears in a circle of fire. Leaving only ashes.

I walk back to the pond to see my reflection, a demon. Now I scream, wondering what had just happened, it felt as though I was in a deep sleep and could not think straight. Something had taken over my body made me feel things I wouldn't feel. I shudder at the thought of the bodies, and the struggle of my eyes opening. My hands suddenly rush to my face seeking out the substance that had made me feel so horrible. I wipe my hand across my face and stare at my now red hand. Blood. Tears start to stream down my face, ashamed of what I thought I had become. "Where am I?!"

A dark laugh echoes through my head, I cover my ears only making it louder, this time I scream at the top of my lungs, "Who are you!?" Head pressed face first on the grass I look slightly up to see hooves, black hooves. "Look at me, my child" It was the voice that had tormented me so many minutes ago. I refuse to look, "I said look at me" I push my head harder on the grass. "Fine, we'll do it the hard way" I feel a tight hot grasp around my neck, the moans turn into screams. "Look at me!" the intensity of the matter frightens me. I lift my head up to stare the beast in the eye. The face I had seen when I was not myself, the monster. He tilts his nasty head, left and right "Finally my daughter is here" No. "I am not your daughter" I hiss at the beast, the grip tightens around my neck, I am yet to understand why he is not touching me. "Yes" He says with his teeth clenched tightly. "No" I pant. The grip getting tighter every second. My neck starts to burn, my whimpers are weak. I see his filthy smile as the burning grows until it explodes.

Thank you for reading. Stay tuned for more short stories and poems from our winners.