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Charlotte Bedford

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2021

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29 Stories

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The Devil's Game

I had been there before. I remembered the dampness that spread across the black room like a disease and the decaying flowers that littered the obsidian floor. I remembered him. Red eyes that pierced my soul from the corner and his silhouette that made the black of the room look dusty grey. The devil.“We meet again,” his haunting voice rang.“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” I replied.A wide smile spread across his face as his shadow moved along the wall closest to me. His body never materialized but remained one with the shadows, onl...

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Butterfly

I first noticed it when I was walking past the old antique shop at the bottom of my road. I don’t usually look at my reflection in the shop windows due to the fear of seeing something I don’t like, but I had caught a glimpse of a golden butterfly necklace on the display board. I had an unusual obsession with butterflies at the time, I viewed them as the perfect combination of beauty and freedom; two words which never went hand in hand in todays society. So, I took a double take and that was when I saw her. I wouldn’t be able to describe what...

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Shoemaker

Our story begins in the dead of night. The moon, full from eating the evening light, hovers in the sky not sure whether to leave or stay because it too is scared of the shadows. The woods stretched for miles, engulfing the land in a mixture of greens, browns, and darkness; a small village was located in the centre, isolated from the rest of the world. This village was called Elfen, translated to Elves. This was due to the old wives tales that circulated through the village, being passed down through the generations of the Elves that lived in...

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The Border

Her name was Light. Her hair was arranged in corn-rows, each braided with threads of light which spread down her back like luminescence from a lamp; her eyes were glowing golden, the lightbulbs of her body, which were positioned midway down her round face. Freckles radiated across her cheeks, each in the shape of little stars that twinkled in the light from her eyes. Light’s fingertips bled into the glow around her, so that she was one with the energy, and her legs faded into a ray of sunshine; not dis-similar to a mermaid. She was breath-ta...

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The Wave's Secrets

Cobweb cove. That is the name of where our tale is set. The large, towering rocks built the walls of this fortress, while the foaming waves built the tomb. Sedimentary rocks piled high on each corner, with deformed, warped and confused layers which twisted and turned in unusual curves and bumps. Salty sea waves stroked the edges of the cove with its fingers and jumped to lick the tips of the stone, as if tasting the natural lollipop. Unlike most shores, this cove grew every year, in reverse erosion, as it was constantly being built upwards. ...

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The Secretaries

I had just placed my files down on my desk on a dreary Thursday morning, the files colour coded from ‘urgent’ all the way to ‘I could probably get away with saying I forgot’. As a secretary, I tend to keep getting work and nothing, but the urgent jobs get done, for example, I have some files here from a year ago and therefore some poor man from Georgia probably hasn’t got his pension in a while. But is that really my problem? Yes and no. But I choose to look at the latter most days. Today was slightly different from a normal Thursday; I was ...

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The Sea's Voices

If one travels to the edge of the map and a little bit further, they will pass into the borders of the Pearl Sea; where the waters run as glossy, thick stretches of shimmering fluid, viscous as pudding and sweet like sugar cane. The waves lap over each other like folds of dough when making fresh croissants and mist climbs the sky, emerging from the heated waters that steam its contents like buns. This is the home of the Perle Verdi. The Perle Verdi were a peaceful tribe of sea and land creatures; having both flippers and feet attached to the...

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The Final Act

The date was 1836, the month was October, the day was the 31st and the night was coming. The wind was howling at the moon as it ran through the trees and the rain drops punched the delicate leaves of the oak tree forest, cascading down like shards of glass from the opium sky. Crackles, Crunching, Choruses of lightning shook the murky clouds that infested the sky, snuffing out the stars and covering their tracks; thundering claps rung in the abyss as it applauded the rain for drowning the wasteland; purifying the earth once more.  Streak...

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Fireman Sam

A deep ocean blue, skin-tight dress clung to her curvy figure; a pair of black wedge heels dangled from her ankles and her hair was down in luscious coffee waves. She strutted through the doors of the night club into the smoky aroma of the bar and through to the garden to puff a cigarette. She took a lighter out of her purse, along with a cigarette from a full packet and fumbled to light the end. No flame flickered and the lighter only made clicking sounds in its own rhythm, following an opposite beat to the music blaring out of the speakers...

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Hearts

The light penetrated her fluffy eyelashes, causing dancing dandelions to prance across her vision; opening her eyes further she gazed around at the expanse that stretched up to the horizon as if pulled taut by the sun. Unconsciously she flattened down her jet black hair and patted down her blood red dress to try iron out the wrinkles and hide the grass stains. She was sat in the middle of the dancing daffodils and singing sunflowers; the buzzing bumblebees bumbled about, and the dragonflies exhaled small puffs of smoke after drinking from th...

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The Light

“Madam Tempest’s Tellers Tavern,” read the large golden letters on a burgundy wooden sign that flapped hysterically in the wind. The metal gates towered over them as they stood at the entrance to the abandoned building; they hung wide open. Bates held Cassandra’s hand in a tight grip, his knuckles turning ghost white. Cassandra had always wanted to go to a fortune teller, Bates knew this, the delight on her face was almost too hard to ignore. Her grip loosened from his hand as she swivelled in front of him and battered her long pony eyelashe...

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Winged Angels

Prologue. Passed down through generations there is a story of old that deep in the heart of the Amazon rainforest, underneath the flowing fresh water of the Amazon river, in the underground caverns live the Anjos Aldos. Beautiful, copper skinned women who are said to have the wings of crows and the voice of a charm of hummingbirds. In their underground world, these women live off of the plants that grow at the riverbed and their sorrowful tears at night replenish the waters that flow through the jungle. At every full moon, the Anjos Aldos g...

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Stark

In hindsight I should be more careful. Down amongst the bustling crowd, beneath the podium, I tried to get a glance at the speaker. A coarse, harsh voice vibrated around the stadium like a game of ping pong, it echoed in my ears, the voice of a man who had come too far to give up. Above the ponytail of the girl in front of me I could just make out his angular bone structure, dark bushy eyebrows, and silver tinted hair; across his face was the expression of disgust as his eyes glared down on us. To be honest he sounded insufferable, trailing ...

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My Favourite Little Planet

She held it in her delicate fingertips; a tiny sphere with ocean blues and pasture greens freckled along its surface. Half of it was encased in darkness; only small pin pricks of light could be seen spattered across the beautiful green blotches. She hung the sphere back in place. Universe was her name. She lived in a stunning black room, the walls were pillars of pure obscurity that stretched upwards for eternity and the floors were encased in murky dust that swirled around into holes of darkness as Universe elegantly tiptoed across the room...

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PETS

Fury. Remove the “y” and you have fur. Because there is no “why?” with Cruella, there is only fur. No questions asked. She was a furious woman. Her hair jolted up like lightning bolts, with streaks of white and black electricity surging through them, it was thick, coarse, and matted, much like the coat of a husky. Her angular cheek bones cut the air like a dog whistle, were as pale white as the milky fleece of a westie and cold to the touch as if she had been dead for months. She had long, thin, spindly fingers that curled round at the ends ...

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