Ill Winds

Wrote this for Jo Fletcher’s 140 word fantasy and horror short story competition, before I realised that it was only open for UK residents. So now you get to read it instead.

 

She stood silent, staring up at the sky. The setting sun had dyed it deep crimson and behind her the first stars would be appearing.

The wind blew over her, through her, from the forest to the north. It filled her with dread and thrill all at once.

She felt something stir in the earth beneath her feet. Something ancient and dark and powerful and altogether wonderful. There was movement, somewhere behind her, and she turned slowly, squinting into the twilight, but could see nothing.

‘I know you’re there,’ she whispered. ‘I know you’ve come for me.’

Like a patch of darkness, of vacuum and dark matter and starlight, it swept forward, then, enveloping her in its velvety blackness, swallowing her whole, filling her soul.

Then it vanished, leaving only the wind and sky behind, and took her with it.

And the united nations, where fellows have extraordinary write my paper for me access to senior policymakers, diplomats, legislators, journalists, and leaders of nongovernmental organizations

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