Short Little Stories

The writer rose from his desk, pencil in hand, and flashed a grin and a smirk. He knew the demon to be bad news, lovely female form or not, but he knew her weakness too.

“Sorry to disappoint you, babe. You won’t be stealing my stories today.”

Grabbing pencil and journal in hand, he pulled open the shade, and leaned against the window to let the sun shine down on the pages.

And then he began to write.

“You see, my dear, you can take all the stories I’ve ever dreamed of writing, but that doesn’t mean I can’t come up with more. A writer can find inspiration in anything – and here I am, faced with a being out of my darkest fantasies, most vicious nightmares. Here I am, faced with proof that there is more to the world than us mere mortals know? How can my mind not fill to bursting after an encounter like this?”

Obsidian eyes flashed hatefully at him, ruby lips curled into a snarl. But the vampiric form stepped away from him with every word. It could feel his imagination swelling into overdrive, could feel his mind filling with far more than it could handle.

The writer pointed his pencil at her, and she recoiled from the outstretched graphite as from a sword. “So you can go on and get yourself out of here, darling. You’ve taken your share and left your mark. I’m sure it wasn’t what you planned to leave, but what’s done is done – I’ve got no more time for you!”

The light shining into the room reflected off the small mirror laying upon his desk. Light shimmered through the room, and whatever spell had let him see into the world between mortal and magic… was broken. He could see the room again, in all its banality, and it was glorious and wonderful to him.

And though he could not see her, he knew that she was gone. And he knew that he may dismiss his memory of what truly happened from his conscious mind – but deep within he will always know it to be true, and carry that spark of magic – foul or fair – through all his works, and to his very grave.

And so a story ended, and so a story began anew.