The Golden Queen - Chapter 1
Dark Fantasy - Advice from Dark Slough Sidhe - Ruith Moup! Dark When it's not safe to be alone and out for a midnight run.
They watch, and they wait… for you.
Chapter 1 - Ruith Moup
SpiderBait – Black Betty
It’s December!
There is darkness.
A song plays, filling the empty southern sky with a ruthless beat.
Away from the abandoned car, cheap grey loafers pound heavily in quick succession on black bitumen…left, right, left, right, left…
A silhouetted form shudders as every trembling exhaled breath creates an accompanying tempo to the surrounding rhythm. …left, right, left…
It’s impressive that the runner can keep time with such a rapid beat.
Terror is a magnificent motivator!
It is not fear of the dark which propels this silhouetted young man.
No!
The commencement of this late-night dash began a full five minutes previous when two crackling orbs of blue lightning emerged from the night’s inky darkness to swoop down from the ragged sandstone cliffs just north of the little fishing village, Windy Harbour. Gliding low over the sparse coastal thicket like guided missiles, they tracked our runners’ speeding little black hatchback with deadly precision.
Maybe the music turned to an ear-splitting ten, enabled our young man to avoid noticing the threatening phenomenon. He never quite seemed to see the distant danger reflected ever so clearly in his rear-view mirror.
Perhaps as a city kid, he was not used to driving at night on an unlit bush road? This could explain how the orb’s eerie lighting strikes did not catch his eye as an out-of-place phenomenon.
For a moment, it seemed he might become aware as the electrical spinning spheres crept closer and affected the headlights of his car, causing an electrical flickering…
But no!
A quick bang on the dashboard fixed that.
The charged blue orbs progressed even closer, moving like menacing crackling cephalopods, electric tendrils grounding into the black tarmac, boiling the thick tar to liquid honey. Jagged spears of pure burning light exuded malicious intent with every energy-laced thrust, casting dancing shadows from the coastal scrub as they speared and singed the ground.
“Crap, hope that’s not lightning.” Was his only real cognisant input.
Toby, our runner, continued driving obliviously to his impending doom. The dark night smothered his dashboard lights; their focused glow was only strong enough to set an eerie scene as a good mood burst from his heart, allowing this young teacher to begin singing. Attention only vacillating from the road as he happily adjusted the music’s volume to be just that little bit louder.
That was until…
In a coordinated slamming attack, the orbs converged into the left rear-side panel, spinning the little black hatchback into a screeching 180-degree turn. Enabling the now completely unfocused Toby to rapidly find religion on a deep soul-squealing level!
Over a cacophony of shredding rubber and twisting metal, a guttural scream of “Oh, Sh…i…t!” echoed out into the darkness. An owl may have watched as the headlights spun across the sparse tundra, but once its prey scuttled back into its burrow, startled by the squealing tires, its attention was firmly back to its dinner’s hidey-hole.
Once the rotational swaying stopped, and after our gaunt young man’s heart climbed back down from his mouth, the pure ink-stained night reclaimed the scenery. Cooling metallic pings peppered the silence… and Toby’s earnest enquiry of, “What the fuck was that?”
Unfortunately, the orb’s sudden disappearance made Toby feel momentarily safe enough to take deep, cleansing breaths whilst he surveyed the interior of his car for any apparent damage.
Patting himself down, manic relief flooded through his system. All his essential body parts were still attached. “No one’s gonna believe this!”
A story for the pub, perhaps?
As this quaint idea ran freely through his mind, it grabbed at embellishments highlighting the normally dull pilgrimage to the Northcliffe pub.
Toby’s deranged laughter and buoyant mood ended immediately when the lightning orbs returned in a screaming descent, directly impacting the hatchback’s now crumpled roof and bonnet. Not only did their return induce a second high-pitched tenor squeal from Toby, but it also created the reason for his quaking soul’s rapid departure from his beloved little black car!
This natural… we hope… electrical phenomenon may… just possibly… get any sane person out of their car and up for a midnight run, regardless of the view or ‘hip-status’ of their actions!
Pity poor Toby; he’s now running for his life.
And because I’m a visual thinker - this song goes with this track.
Interesting start to the story, I'm only sorry it took me so long to get started on this story.
Thank you, V! An intriguing beginning! I’ll probably be a super slow reader, but I will definitely read on! ☺️