Short stories and things

Kingdom above

Authors note: Hello, I'm going to start a collenctin of short stories, poems and just random stuff I want to say. The one posted below is my first story with age restrictions just because it's a bit violent and has one swear word in it. I'm not very good at violent sceens so constuctive critasism is welcome. The story below will be part of a series of short stories about another world. -Sorry for a long intro hope you enjoy.

Chapter one: -the kingdom above

A ‘seemingly’ young was girl sat at a desk in the middle a circular room, the ceiling too high up to be measured. The walls were covered in row after row of shelves going round the length and breadth of the curved walls of the fairly small room, the only place where there weren’t shelves was the door, the shelves were organised and precise in the distance between the one above and the one below. On the shelves were billions of ‘hour’ glasses; egg timer’s that spilled sand for many a decade where as some only took a few months to run the sand to the bottom. Each timer was different; each timer represented a life, a human life.

The girl was pouring sand from one timer to another that had almost run out. The girl had a strange smirk on her usually serious face. “An old man living on borrowed time…” When she was done she reattached the lids of the two time pieces and put them carefully on the correct shelf. As she did so a woman opened the door. The woman’s skin had an ugly red tint to it; she was wearing a grey and white floral dress with strange red splotches all over it. The dress tied up at the back similar to a corset with red ribbon and the skirt finished just above her knees. Her red shiny shoes had a short and thin heal to them.  

She leaned on the door frame, a mocking half grin painted on her face; her eyes showed a dark twisted past. “Playing with them like dolls again?” The peaceful look on the girls face vanished as soon as the woman had entered the room.

“What have I told you about interfering with the time gods?” The girl’s voice was stern; her facial expression was not a childish leak of emotions but a blank canvas filled with centuries of maturity and endless work.

“Cheeky little bitch. In half a heartbeat I could strike every grain of your precious sand on the floor. I could smash every life you hold dear in this room.  Or even better, I could go down to that planet and smite them more directly, watch the blood flow from-” The woman let out a shocked grunt of pain, for as she looked down she saw two piercing blue eyes staring at her and discovered that a small hand had been shoved through her stomach and out though her back. The little girls hand was covered in fresh cherry red blood. 

“I told you never to mess in the business of the time gods; you have no purpose in these halls.” Blood dribbled from the woman’s mouth and the girl drew her hand back out grabbing a rib as she did so and tearing it from the woman’s body. The woman gave out another brief pained noise. The girl stuck the rib in the woman’s arm. “This is only a warning; don’t let me release my true potential.” The woman stood up abruptly and jabbed the long sharp nails on her thumb and little finger into the girls eyes, the girl was forced to visualise every timepiece in the room falling to the ground and smashing into a million tiny pieces, she saw plagues of insects eating at human flesh. She saw only a handful of things the woman could do but they shocked and hurt her emotionally, she cared so much about her people and she hated the suffering the woman had and could cause.

“Now child, this is only a warning, don’t make me use my true power. And you’re wrong! I am the goddess of death and destruction and these two things bring about the end of time, the nutrients of rotting flesh feeds the soil so more things can grow, more things can live, more time can be spent. I do belong!” The woman withdrew her fingers from the girl’s eyes. The blood that dribbled down the girls face complimented her coal coloured skin but clashed with her pretty blue dress and thick blue hair.

The woman casually replaced her spilling organs back into her body, as best as she could, and removed the rib from her arm as she left. Her happy expression was still as twisted and evil as when she’d first entered (maybe even more so). When she had gone the girl backed up to the desk with her arms hugged around her legs, her backside on the floor, her back facing the back of the wooden chair she had been sitting on. She did the first childish thing she had done since the day she was born, she cried. Blood sweat and tears pouring down her face and staining the fabric on her knees. She stayed there a long time until a fellow time god (he took care of the time insects had to live and so was usually very busy) comforted her.

~ Managed to put the word back three times in one sentece, not sure if I'm proud or disappointed.