Welcome to this week’s installment of many micro stories, ranging in length from 100 words to 500 words.
With each story we hope to deliver a little whimsy into the lives of our readers.
THE WHORE OF BABYLON
Witch. Whore. Unnatural.
My father’s condemnations echo in my mind.
I raised you to reject all wickedness, but instead you have spurned all morality and virtue.
I deny nothing. I am guilty, and your God does not excuse the guilty. So I found a new way to worship.
The devil has filled your heart.
It’s not like I had a choice. I sought delight in the Lord, and he left me wanting. Eisha never leaves me wanting.
…after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin…
Every touch of her hand, every press of her lips, every moment of pleasure was worth it.
In the stocks beside mine, Eisha sits with head bowed. Pale yellow moonlight highlights her black curls. I pick at my split lip, a parting gift from my father. The sharp sting wakes me, brings me back to myself.
Woe to the wicked!
With a blood-smeared fingertip, I reach for her.
Eisha’s head snaps up. Her mouth stretches into a wide smile. Then wider. A warmth spreads through me at the sight of her pointed teeth, recalling how they scraped against my neck.
It needn’t have come to this. We hid in the barn, where I thought only the goats could see. Our trysts were only when Father went to town or slept under the blanket of night. We did not flaunt our passions, as he claims. As if we welcomed his intrusion.
It needn’t have come to this. But I’m not sorry.
…the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulphur…
Father will light our pyre in the morning. He will watch the fires snatch our souls to hell, and our bodies burn until nothing but ash and charred bone remains. Maybe that will finally make him happy.
I bite down and blood wells. I lick it up, savouring its potential.
“Eisheth Zenunim,” I invoke her full name. Her name of power, that summons her true self in the light of the moon and the gift of blood. “It’s time.”
In one sinuous movement, she breaks the stocks from our ankles like cobwebs and pulls me into a passionate kiss. Bruising pain becomes pleasure.
“Will we run?” Eisha asks. Her eyes burn crimson as my rage infuses her.
“No.” I will be their wicked witch. “Eye for an eye.”
Aggie lives with her wife by the beach in Australia, where she spends most of her time hiding from the sun and heat. She writes around studying for her pharmacy degree and entertaining her three dogs. She loves all kinds of speculative fiction and often draws inspiration from Slavic folklore and mythology. When not writing she can be found drinking tea and reading everything in sight. Her published works can be found in Hexagon, Flash Fiction Online and more! For the full list see http://aggienovak.com
If you enjoyed this story you can find it and more in the Hawthorn & Ash 2023 anthology.
Iron Faerie Publishing 