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Kathleen `Woods

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2021

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123 Stories

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Ice & blood pudding

The building is old, and the skeleton of it is historied, but it’s current use is scarcely less so, having been some variety of bar restaurant combo for most of its run. Lucian has taken up many roles in the current establishment, but he’s always done well on the nightshift. Even as it seems during the holidays. It’s early in the night like always it seems, when he sees a regular of his, slip in alongside a group of seasonal pub-crawlers. This regular, would frankly be too young by appearances, but got away with a correctly dated I.D. They ...

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Sandy's still a B!tch~workable 3000

Warning: real commentary has been edited for comedic effect. It was hard getting into the mind of a creep, especially when you don’t want to think about what they like and how they are. Sandy had never been a target of anything like that, but she knew that people didn’t generally like it, so she thought it would be an easy enough thing to write about without much research.Surely between that, her scrupled editing, and the fee, nobody would overlook it, right? It didn’t matter if she won or not of course. Anyway, she wanted to start...

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Dream House Sympathetic – Citehtapmys Esouh Maerd

There’s a box in my hand, and given the style of sweet contained it’s a bit small, one inch by three inches by six inches. Their sweethearts, and they are a little big with flat One-inch dimensions. I take one into my mouth and instead of the usual compacted sugar-ashes, its sour. I feel electricity down my back, but I do not wake up. I look around the room. The space is broadly compact, the room is painted in eight shades of purple. The floor is carpeted, shaggily but in a strange print. I get up from my spot on the floor, and I measure th...

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Snakes on a Train

He watches her as she looks out the window, the weight of the locomotive a heavy crash to the rails with each plunge of steel pistons. He’ll follow her to hell and back given what else she is, cold-blooded lacking the manners of a proper human.In this the seventh day of April in the common year he’d chosen to follow a serpent. A daughter creature to the Amar by the name of Belinda Bryaxis, suitably too given her supposed pedigree.Only there was no tenderness in the monuments she built.She was an asset to a known terrorist organization, nowhe...

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Some Pigs find a truffle in an ashen forest

She’d been marching more so than running, as the vines did creep, too careful in the once dappled light above her to really see. It’s touch in her mind, a leading whisper. She’d been too young to die, though the hold of death on the young is unmistakable. But Claudia was not lost in the roots, no, she was, she was still tied down beneath the forest, as she felt the lesser King’s fire eat it away. The forest had swallowed only the edge of her senses, but the urge to run from it all, was too much to avoid. Even as all her edges went numb, an...

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What do you do when the Shifter argues with the Forest?

Alina bereaves herself of sensation, her path numbing her as she walked. She wonders if Claudia felt this way when she fell, she wonders if she’s still somewhere on this path, but she knows at the very least, she can’t trust it. Even if her vision is clearer now, Alina knows, anyone can lie. It’s one of the few things that most everyone does, if not to others than themselves. She didn’t really think that the forest is any different. ‘You shouldn’t show off your thoughts to “something” like me’ it sighs into her mind. “Your right about th...

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Lost are the First and Last, but Who’s Left to look down the Well?

He was looking into the wellspring of their discontent, the rope run taught from where it was tied, until it wasn’t. There’s oil in his throat, and he retches right beside it, his world is too small. Was that the stone? or was it simply shame? Twelve hours. Twelve hours and they’d lost them both. Alex pulls himself up- tries to, as his legs give out. He waits it out the expected. And he gets up. And walks back home. He feels it in his bones, trying to say the words. Alina, Claudia. Isabel won’t even speak to them. She’s too angry. “Don’t ...

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A Maid in Cereraghu

The Kettle sings shrilly this morning, as boiling bubbles pop in the canister. A fine last act of the night, as the sun pulls itself up the mountain side, and Yawa relinquishes her name. First tea was churned along with a breakfast, if you could call it that, of Narama-Bohne, Seed-of-Vakar and the Yi-Kopuklu the usual thing made for the ladies of the Aavabanu. An Inn built right into mount Ohchayaah, on the outskirts of Cereraghu, a majorly agricultural town. It is the early hours of this mountain side, and the meal was not so different ...

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Nomgifpous Namtilpus, A stupid Numbers game.”

It was a dangerous thing to be directionless in a desert. More so at any hour before or after dusk, but these things happen. To put it politely, whatever led up to this rather large happenstance was likely very stupid, and was sadly very much in character. It didn’t change the dissatisfaction she had with her friend. Sharla would drag her anywhere if she let her. The thing was that it wasn’t a singular issue. Sure there was a faulty wire, or a flat tire, or some manner of linchpin, but they were lost now, and she was certain that if there ha...

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Who’s Eating Rich? (An experiment in writing cannibalism.)

We start in an air-conditioned bathroom, with a cleaned body hung above the tub. Bleeding out, dark black to ruddy brown. This man was killed a little while before, but that doesn’t matter right now. She was hungry, and he was not to be eaten by her. It was onerous work, but someone had to do it. ‘What brings you low will make you divine.’ This is what Damasis was told. When she was young, and worlds away, it was all that they could believe to stay in place. Ever tame. When the world was old, and she was new. And these things were much...

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Here’s some Alien Nation fanfiction… Just you try and judge me!

“So I caught my wife with a younger man the other day, I say the other day because I don’t rewrite my jokes until my cue-cards get dusty.” “And I say, ‘congrats, I assume you got that promotion. She of course doesn’t respond beyond nodding because to my surprise she’s riding, like, well, like some kinda, cowgirl? Is that the right word?” “And I go, ‘honey, I thought we had an agreement about erotic-acrobatics.’ Hon, it’s a’ you me thing! What the hell?” “And she’s holding out on me because again, preoccupied.” “Silence, perfect. Just...

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The many Downsides of an Open Face

“Oh come on, it’s just chocolate. Have I really never shared before?” It was the most bitter thing he’d ever tasted at the time, but as an adult with a much clearer memory of high octane coffee, it was now the sweetest. There is nothing more childish, more decadent than the simple want for candy, and at the moment there seemed to be no craving more particular then for chocolate. Not just any chocolate, but for the rather absurdly specific type that was the memory of bitterness he’d had from the first chocolate his mother ever gave him.&...

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If Faith were a book, than I lost it. But the Forest in the Well is kind for all its Cinders.

And so the cord was cut, pulled away as it had gone slack. The curve of the wall, floor, sealing of the labyrinthine forest gaping with her decision. She could finally see clearly the forest blight of roots that had decided to bare itself to her as an enemy, but Alina knew as sure as her feet beneath her that it was sleeping. She’d felt it as soon as she did it, like that too short lifeline was the thing blinding her. For a moment she concerns herself with Isabel’s certainty, her tragedy, her grief. And the ferocity she felt against it, t...

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Yet another AU-UBER, (swap for &) when will it end?

The porchlight flickers, and Ivan thinks for a moment. He should go back inside. And face her. Look her in the eye, and tell her why he lives by his guilt. Why her kindness broke and burned him like coal or ice. The infatuation he felt for her charitable nature, and how grounding it was to see it in her Lamented, in the Grim. Why it hurt so badly that hers was not the face of his wife and the shame he held inside that he’d ever wanted that. The ring that would’ve stolen her body for him to use. And how his fingers traced it with th...

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What the Eye won’t swallow

They watch the ever-eye that was the sun glaring down, peaceable, affable, at first, toward them. To spite the threat it held bare to them both. “We’re running out of time.” One of them says, a horrid admission. Their too soon failure.Their daughter half finished and lonesome. Their allies lost to a system in longwinded collapse.Cowardly, his wife thinks, martyrs all for a cause long lost.They were doomed.“It doesn’t matter. We can rebuild.” She doesn’t say it. They can’t he knows. Not that quick.Not without a mate.Afonya would go alone.Last...

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