They Came at Night

This weeks response to The Writer’s Mess Friday Picture Prompt is a little odd, as the image makes me think of ink monsters. So I went with it, and you can read along with the story of a man who didn’t believe, and got everything he asked for…

He lit the candle, and said the words, but he hadn’t expected for anything to happen. Everyone knew that magic wasn’t real, and he did too, right up until the black smoke started drifting up in blobs from the centre of the circle. 

He tried to reason that he had set something on fire with the candles, but the smoke wasn’t behaving like smoke.  It wasn’t ever rising, diffusing, it was moving like a jellyfish made of inks, lazily making its way towards the window. 

He let it go, not out of ignorance, but out of fear. If it was real, if this was real, if magic was real, then he had released terror into the world, and he didn’t know what they would do to him if they stood in their way. 

He knew there would come a point, where if they were as he thought, that he would have to try and put the genie back in the bottle, but that was a problem for another day. 

After they had taken care of his enemies of course…


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