cwof

[cwof]

off she goes. to wander the disparate paths of the earth. where she’ll stop, nobody knows.

#poem #short poem #short poetry #poetry #mysterious wanderer #wanderer #wandering

[cwof]

sharp eyed. like the cat— watching the bird fly from side to side of the cage; watching the fish swim from side to side of the aquarium. waiting for the opportunity to strike, and claim a meal.

#poem #poetry #short poem #short poetry #cats #cat #fish #bird #birdcage #aquarium #waiting to strike #patience #patient hunter #hunter waiting to strike

[cwof]

judas, most loyal.

#jesus x judas #jesus/judas #jesus and judas #queering the bible #poetry #poem #narrative poetry #queering the narrative #god x human #god/human #m/m pairing #free will #predestination

[cwof]

(also on ao3)

***

i heard Apollo sing—

you are walking through an olive glen, when you hear a rich voice carrying on the wind, in words you don’t necessarily understand. it is dark and twilit, and you are alone in the glade, but only minutes from your village. you walk through this glade every night, because you like to watch the branches of the leaves blowing in the wind, because you like the feel of the cool crisp air on your skin as a respite from the day’s long hot swelter. you could walk the opposite way, to get a kiss of the sea breeze instead, but you’ve always liked the trees better than the waves in the port. the port has its own charms, with merchants unloading their wares at all hours of the day, but it is the ever presence of men there that dissuades you. here you can find blessed solitude, can revel in the beauty of nature around you, like Bacchus – but your solitude is disrupted now.

the voice is rich and deep, and though it sounds far away, somehow it feels impossibly close, winding around you and blotting out the setting sun, so heavy in the air you can almost see it on the wind, can taste it on your tongue, feel it between your eyes, in your lungs, smell it like a heady flower in your nose. it is a song unlike any you have ever heard before – none of the cheerful skips of a folk song, yet without any of the droning of a ballad. it meanders from note to note, in no particular rush, yet each tone is so perfectly robust and full it brings tears to your eyes. it spools out as if it proclaiming great truths, yet retracts as if it is confessing intimate secrets. though there is little repetition, it never becomes bothersome or tedious – each new piece of it remains novel and enticing.

you realize you are no longer walking through the glades, but standing stock still, only listening now. It shifts with each moment, always becoming something new. you wish you could only understand the words, because the emotions the voice carries and conveys are moving you to tears. you cry silently, but go on listening as the song winds through emotion after emotion, story after story, from low places to high, conveying ancient forgotten places and distant impossible futures, all at once. it so completely fills your mind you feel as if you are standing inside a rainbow, the quiet beauty of your favorite glade forgotten, paling in comparison to this strange song that goes on and on and seems to unspool you as it goes.

you think all music must be ruined for you after this. it is something beyond music, what you are hearing – something a human could never create. Joyful and proud, boisterous and determined – but with soft edges that pull back. you understand – you’ve caught a god singing. and if this god, if he goes on singing for the entire span of your life, you will have no hope of escape – you will have to stand exactly here, listening exactly as you are until the moment you die – and you will waste away like Narcissus, caught in this beguiling song, and die much younger than you otherwise would have. and if the men come to harvest the olives from the trees, they will be caught too – and if their families, and the other village people come looking for them, they also will be snared. hundreds, thousands of people – the entire nation of Greece, the whole empire, as many as can fit in this glade could be standing around here listening, and you would barely notice them. the nation, the empire could die here, trapped in this song and unable to escape – and as far as you are concerned, it would be worth it. this song is worth all those deaths, worth complete eradication and disappearance from the face of the earth, and even knowing it would be the case, you would still stand here and listen.

you have never been particularly religious. but this song is enough to make a convert of you, enough to amaze and dazzle you. it is like staring openly into the mind of the god, like receiving the smallest glimpse of understanding into a god’s perspective, and it is great and terrible, majestic and heartbreaking, and you think it has been enough to break you. your mundane life will seem even smaller now, even more insignificant. the days will be even longer, even more interminable. you already know you will never hear this song again.

for you weren’t meant to find it in the first place. gods move about as they will, and there are many beautiful empty places, far from villages and their citizens where a god might find blessed solitude to sing his heart on the wind this way. it is only sheer luck, only the lightest intervention of the fates that has made it so he happened to choose what you have come to think of as your glade on this one evening, this one eternity, this one eon. he did not know you would come, even now probably does not know you are here, listening. he will not become attached to this glade as you did – he will choose the millions of other places on this wide earth, places deeply, troubling beautiful that no human eye will ever see – places you now think he must have been singing about in this song, in the more beautiful parts. that he may be singing about now.

for one night, he chose a mundane glen of olive trees out of the whole world. He will never choose it again. you know now that not only are you ruined by the terrible beauty of this song, but the glade is ruined too. you will continue to walk here in the long nights of your life – but you will always hear the whisper of a memory behind you as you go, and each moment will be pregnant with the desperate hope that you were wrong, that he will grace the same glade a second time, that the first notes of his song are only a breath away. and your ears will ache from straining to hear the music that will never come, and you will walk home, not restored as the glade once made you, but depleted by despair at what you have lost – a treasure you never should have been given to begin with.

you will begin going to his temple. you know it. you will give meager offerings as you can in Apollo’s name. you will look upon his statue and imagine it is singing to you. you almost wish you could see him, but it is a foolish wish you know. his song has so devastated you – to behold him would be even more terrible.

you will haunt his temple as his song will haunt you. you will wander it, hoping at every turn to hear his music there, but you will not. you know he has never sang like this in any of his temples – if he had, they would be perpetually overflowing, with lines streaming down their steps. you will even become so desperate that you consider joining his order – and eventually, give in. you will rise through the ranks, always imagining that at the next level of devotion, finally you will reach the level who is blessed to commune with him personally, blessed to hear this song again. but you won’t.

for the rest of your life you know you will try to find the song again, through any means – returning to this glade, night by night, travelling to distant spaces and searching out the most remote locations, unintended for human eyes, in the hopes of catching him there, will settle and become one of his monks and rise to the level of high priest, will consort with conjurors and charlatans, praying that somewhere there is a charm that works which will put you before him so you could only hear his song one last time.

you know, as the song is dying on the breeze and Apollo is departing unseen, that this will be your life. you will search for him all your days in desperation, you will try all you have thought of and more, at any cost, and you already know you will never find it again. you will do all you have planned, knowing all plans will already fail, and you know you will pray every night, and all prayers will be unanswered, but still. You will do it all anyway.

you will do it all anyway for the delusional hope that you are wrong. you will bring yourself into alignment, into true expression of the ruin you have already become, and you know you will only face failure in all you try.

but you will do it all anyway, with his song in your heart.

***

(if you like god/human as a trope, consider checking out my novel. it's basically this, but more. see for yourself in this excerpt.)

#prose poem #prose poetry #second person pov #prose #greek mythology #apollo #my poetry #one-sided #god x human #god/human #poetry #poem #original poetry #greek gods #greek god

[cwof]

shadow, sign of where you are standing in the sun in the present moment, casting back on the space you’ve stepped away from.

#poetry #original poetry #shadows #shadow #short poems #short poetry #my poetry #carinawrites

[cwof]

the most beautiful

remember that the most beautiful is the most deadly. remember that beauty always comes with a risk. the sense of wonder and awe it gives asks a price in exchange. will it be your blood? or your life?

nothing more lovely than the wonder of space, but its beauty is held in vacuum. with no air support— no life. only observable by human eyes from the safety of a space station, if at all. that space station could at any time fail.

the siren’s song may call the lonely to drift through that vacuum and see galaxies from a closer angle. but without a tether, endless drifting will end life. to say nothing of black holes or meteors.

nothing more lovely than the depths of the sea but the deeper you go the more dangerous. the adventurous may be called into that deep blackness, but even a chink in their vessel can spell death.

the most beautiful is the most deadly— too terrible to behold up close.

#poetry #original poetry #space #ocean #ocean depths #my poetry #carinawrites

[cwof]

raised.

raise me up in iniquity. you killed and raised me the death of that moment, from which you returned me but never quite the same

cruel necromancer. cruel neuromancer. you may play in my head but as long as I remember what it felt like to die I will always be wrong.

what greater control is possible than to give and take life, than to give and take the life of a woman and force her to feel nothing for it?

but I am wrong. I feel. I remember what it is to die so I am become your Creature; I have the knowledge that isolates. I am become your Creature, born of my own death. I am not the one you thought you would get back. there will be no return for her. you killed her permanently. but I am your Creature now, and creator, I may kill you yet.

#original poetry #poetry #horror poetry #dark poetry #necromancy #revenant #zombie #poems about zombies #my poetry #carinawrites #poem #zombies #necromancer #dark #raising the dead #returning from the dead #resurrection

[cwof]

night flight

sad, sad witchly figure, sit down and speak to me. I think I see a grim twist of your lips, as you dip your head and say, I go flying all around the world every night.

(when I ask, do you ever cross over to other realms and bring something back? when I ask, do you walk in other worlds, and pull your magic through with you?)

but there is a sadder tilt of your head when you add: I go all around the world every night. but before sunrise I always slip back in through the window, and shut it behind me. I go all around the world every night, but I always come back to the place I started from.

#original poetry #poetry #poems about witches #spooktober #spooktober vibes #spooky #spooky poetry #halloween 2020 #my poetry #carinawrites #witch #witches #around the world by broomstick #witch on a broomstick #witchy #witchy travels #poem #magic #broomstick

[cwof]

Declivity is now listed on goodreads! You can leave me a rating or review there (and make my day!) if you’ve read it, add it to a shelf, or as “want to read.”

#original fiction #original horror #my writing #horror novel #horror novels 2020 #horror novels october 2020 #novels october 2020 #books 2020 #books October 2020 #new books #recent releases #declivity #carinawrites #horror #2020 book releases #October 2020 book releases #new book releases

[cwof]

I wrote an erotic horror novel. For a while I had it posted online, free to read, but I’ve polished it, formatted it, and published it for sale as an ebook on my website. Buy for only $5.89 CAD. 

If you’re looking for a disturbing, gore-y autumnal read, please consider giving me a try. Also, if this interests you, please reblog to help me get the word out. 

Warnings for consensual grey areas, graphic violence, the general evil and disturbing themes you’d expect in a horror novel and the sexual content you’d expect of an erotic novel. 

Declivity

The dark god Caspian is making steady progress across the universe with the aim of expanding his empire. When his forces reach Alinia’s planet, she is faced with a choice: submit herself to the faceless rule of said empire, or seek Caspian out directly to offer him service.  She opts for the latter, and steals passage to his palace. She offers herself to him out of curiosity, to see what he might do with her. 

Caspian has spent eons repeating the same patterns of evil, and arrived at a place of complete boredom. Alinia’s offer is the first intrigue he’s had in recent memory, and he accepts. But though both Caspian and Alinia think they know what they are undertaking, the dynamic they engage in may be more than either one fully grasps. Will they each get some spark of interest out of their entanglement? Or will something else, dark and unknowable, arise from their continuing interaction?

buy here | read an excerpt from the first chapter | or download the complete first chapter, free |

#dark fiction #horror fiction #original horror #new horror release #new horror releases #horror fiction 2020 #horror fiction 2020 releases #horror fiction 2020 new releases #october 2020 new releases #my writing #carinawrites #original fiction #erotic horror #fiction october 2020 new releases #declivity

[cwof]

(excerpt from my novel)

*         *          * 

Black obsidian filled the throne room. The floor was black obsidian, the walls, the pillars— and the throne, where Caspian sat.

The sight of him was terrifying. Alinia knew he could kill her with less than a twitch of his finger. Still, the sheer power he exuded was undeniably attractive. Despite the fine marble and stone, and the jewels inlaid in the walls, he was by far the most awesome thing in the hall. Though to the unknowing eye he was only a man.

The guards led her through his hall, towards his throne. He sat, watching. She could already feel his eyes on her… thought she could feel his presence in her mind, combing through her thoughts, one by one.

She was surprised she'd gotten this far. Sure, it was farther than she’d hoped, but even she thought she would fail. Any of his guards could have killed her too. He lent them very small pieces of his ability, enough to kill or torture using only mental concentration. Part of her had believed she would die on discovery. When she'd turned herself into the first guards she’d met, and asked to be taken to him, she’d been shocked to find they actually agreed. 

As she approached the throne, her heart stopped in her chest. The closer she got, the more terrifying he seemed. The throne should have dwarfed him, but instead it amplified him.  

He watched her, with his dark eyes, saying nothing as the guards led her to the base of his throne. Their task completed, he dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and she was alone with him in the hall.

She dropped to her knees immediately, without having to be told, and bowed her head. She did not dare speak until he addressed her. 

“That won't save you,” he said, sounding almost bored. 

If she couldn’t sufficiently interest him to hear her deal, she really would be dead in the next minute. Time to get… risky. 

“I don't pretend to think anything or anyone can save me. I am at your mercy. I place my life in your hands.”

“You couldn't find more capable hands than mine?” He sounded…  slightly amused. “I do have something of a track record for… ending the lives that come under my care.”

“I know that,” she said, in almost a whisper. “There is no military force that can defeat you, and no people who can escape your rule. Since you were soon to be my ruler, I thought I would present myself to you now, to do with as you like.”

“Look up at me.” He said, his voice suddenly cold. She did. 

He stood from his throne, and clasped his hands behind his back. 

“What is your name?” He asked. 

“Alinia,” she answered. 

“Well, you have twenty seconds to tell me why you are really here, as I am rapidly losing patience with your riddles.” His tone was serious.

“I have nothing left to live for,” she answered promptly. “And living the life of one of your subjugated peasants would be unbearably tedious for me. Since I'm almost guaranteed to be killed no matter what I do, I thought perhaps you might be interesting. Might do interesting things to me, I mean. Since I had nothing to lose, I figured I'd take a shot. I'm prepared to die at any time. I know you can kill me. And I fully expect you to be the cause of my death. I just thought… you might have interesting uses for me before I die.”

He snorted; it jarred her.

“Let's just speak plainly, shall we? You thought perhaps my ‘interesting use’ for you might be sexual in nature.” 

She opened her mouth to deny it, but then closed it again and nodded. She’d forgotten he could read her mind. 

At that, he laughed. A real, full body laugh. “Oh, that is precious. I've really seen it all now.”

She said nothing. 

“Do you know, I could have any woman in the universe? That I could bend the forces of linear time and have any woman that ever existed or will exist? Do you know that I could bend the will of any woman alive now until she wanted to pleasure me more than she wanted to live?” His voice had grown incredulous.

“I understand that you are all powerful,” Alinia replied, with a touch of annoyance. “As I said, you might be able to interest me. If not, go ahead and kill me.”

“Interest you?!” He snapped, his voice echoing through the hall. “Why on earth would you be of interest to me? You said you understand that I could have any woman, by her will or not. Some new information for you might be that I do not desire to have any woman. The idea is unbelievably, unbearably tedious to me. I am above such things.” 

Alinia shrugged. “As I said. I am here to provide service to you, to be of use to you. All on the off chance something interesting may happen to me. Kill me whenever you like. Right now, if you wish. I just thought it was worth asking.” 

There. She'd said her part and now… it was time to call his bluff, and see if she'd been interesting enough to live through the next five minutes. 

“You really are prepared to die,” he remarked. “That's… almost intriguing. Most of your kind hate facing their own death.” 

She waited.

He gave her an appraising look. “I see what you do not say… you think you can change me, make me feel something human in my divinity. But you are wrong. I am a god, and you underestimate what that truly means. I could end this universe right now, and make another.”

“I do understand!” She snapped, and climbed from her kneel to her feet. “I understand completely who you are and what you can do, and the repercussions of what I am doing. I am not an idiot! If what you are going to do next is list all the reasons I should be afraid of you, save your breath and kill me now. I already know. I'm already terrified! That's why I am here. So don't insult my intelligence!” 

When she finished, she was panting, and her chest heaving. She knew death was coming at any moment. He did not allow anyone to speak to him like that. He killed for nothing, and she'd given him a reason.

Well. Unlike anyone else in existence, I can honestly say I yelled at him before I died. One interesting thing at least. 

He stepped down from his dais, until he was right in front of her. She looked to his face, and was surprised to see he was… not exactly attractive but… something.  She had not gotten a proper look before; she had been distracted by the power radiating from him. 

His nose was sharp, and his jaw crisp, and straight. His eyes were as dark as the hall surrounding them. It terrified her even more to be looking into them. They led to a mind which possessed endless knowledge. But she forced herself not to flinch, not to blink, or look away. 

One more interesting thing. Not many have the nerve to stare him in the face. Nor would they come as close to him as I have. 

“You're easy to please, Alinia,” he remarked, his voice dry. “And before you mentally berate yourself for forgetting I could read your thoughts again, save it. It's wasted energy.” 

She held his gaze. 

“No,” he said. “I don't think I will kill you. Congratulations. You've succeeded in your task. I'm intrigued. Never has anyone come to me with such an offer, and certainly, no one has had the bravery to stand before my own throne and yell at me.”

She fought back a smile. A gutsy move, but it had paid off.

“What interests me even more,” he went on, “is that you have been entirely honest with me, and have not even attempted to resist my intrusions into your mind. You are no rebel plant— you are here for the reasons you state.”

She didn't react. She could tell he was done letting her speak for now.

“Which means you are obviously either very stupid — which I can safely say we've ruled out — or you are prepared for the worst possible treatment, and are anticipating it. Which means you are insane. Or very, very twisted— which, coming from me, is saying something.” 

She still said nothing. 

“Time will tell,” he concluded. “However, since you have offered yourself for my service, I believe a contract is in order. I'm sure you've heard of my contracts?” 

“If they are broken, the treacherous party will be killed.” She recited.

“Hmm,” he agreed. “I think in your case, I will modify the clause so that you must find me and tell me the details of how you have broken it, and I may kill you at my leisure— since you seem so prepared to die by my hand.” 

He was pacing, circling her now. “Since you were so angered by my underestimating your intelligence, I will also add a clause to that effect. In all my dealings with you, I will treat you as someone with an intellect equal to my own, and if you fall short of that standard… well, I believe you're smart enough to understand the implications of that.” He was smirking at her now, sure he could easily catch her downfall with that clause. 

We'll see, was all she thought.

“I find those terms acceptable.”

“Ah, and, how could I forget. If at anytime you grow tired of being in my service, ask me to kill you, and I will.” 

*         *          * 

read even more, if you like:

download the entire first chapter free | or buy the ebook from my site

#dark fiction #horror fiction #original horror #erotic horror #dark #evil god #god x human #god/human #my writing #excerpt #excerpt from published work #excerpt from my novel #declivity #declivity excerpt #carinawrites #original fiction

[cwof]

Chapter 17

#horror #original horror #original fiction #my writing #declivity

[cwof]

Chapter 16

#horror #original horror #original fiction #my writing #declivity

[cwof]

Chapter 15

#horror #original horror #original fiction #my writing #declivity

[cwof]

Chapter 14

#horror #original horror #original fiction #my writing #declivity

[cwof]

Chapter 13

#horror #original horror #original fiction #my writing #declivity

[cwof]

Chapter 12

#horror #original horror #original fiction #my writing #declivity