Chapter 3

After we had stored our things and had a quick look around outside, we went over to the bigger farmhouse to help get the lunch. Apart from the three of us, there were only three others there, with Magnus, the Unit Leader, telling us that the others were all in the field.

He introduced Nora and Petra, the communications expert and the ‘dresser’. The first thing that surprised us was that when he introduced us, he gave us different names. I was Alex, Matilda was Mary, and Hortense was now Hope.

I woke Janet up with a glass of water and two more paracetamol. She wasn’t that bad; I just wanted her to be in good nick for her meeting at 11am. As usual when I was there I got breakfast; pancakes with maple syrup and bacon. We ate together and I headed off, going against the incoming traffic. I really needed to get some work out of the way so was planning to just get my head down for the day. I slowed down coming into the cul de sac which led to my apartment block and drove in, keeping an eye out for anything unusual; just what that might be, I hadn’t a clue.

Victim
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

Every crime scene is different, even though they all look the same after a while. They even smell the same, when you walk past the uniformed cop on the door and smell the iron in the blood, and maybe a trace of feces from the fear or a pierced gut.

Noise; lots of it. I’m cold: I must have shivered as someone wrapped a warm blanket around me. Drift away again…

Noise again, light… My mother’s voice:

“I think he’s coming around.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Male, foreign, heavily accented.

“Ah; you back to us, yes?”

“Grunt”

“Whatyouname?”

“Huh?”

“He’s asking you for your name.”

Mother’s voice again.

“Name… Aisling…”

“It’s his stage name…”

Opening eyes, lights on ceiling, a man standing over me, white coat, stethoscope.

The sun was warm, even at 10AM. I collected the oars of the rowing boat from the machinery shed where we kept two pairs hung carefully on the wall. This was my first time using the boat this year, the first time I had felt able to bring it out. I walked the 200 yards to the lake and waded in. The boat, fastened by its painter to a post on the shore, was deliberately left some way out to stop the cows causing damage by scratching themselves against it.

And now, as they say in the classics, for something completely different. This is a pair of stories triggered by watching a very realistic British crime series on TV. The term ‘flower’ further into this, is used in York, in a similar way that ‘pet’ is used in Tyneside.

Chapter 1

Short part, this time.

Part Three

Chapter 11: Fire and Fertility

The livestream build-up was a masterclass in suspense. Before a single face appeared, the feed flickered to life with jittery, disjointed shots: the moon caught in the lens, a boot crunching over brittle grass, the distant echo of voices just out of range. The narrator’s breaths quickened, and every shaky pan of the camera suggested something forbidden waited just beyond view. Then, as the tension peaked, an ominous caption stamped across the screen:

"WITCHES CAUGHT IN THE ACT — DARK RITUAL EXPOSED LIVE!"

Chapter 10 — "Snow, Snacks, and Small Quests."

*Location: North of High-Forge*

*Weather: Frosty with light snowfall*

Sexpiation
A Short Story
By Maryanne Peters

When the world is on fire, how far would you leap to escape the flames? That is how we looked at it. We were not escaping from justice – we were escaping from madness.

Author's Note: Hi, thanks for reading my story. Now that Christmas is over I can return to these darker chapters. This is a flashback, 11 years ago. Hopefully illustrating how much Whit and Lucy have been through. On a personal note I had a wonderful Christmas. My wife bought me a jewelry box with a little spinning ballerina, something I've always wanted. I had my second HRT appointment and found despite my conservative plan I'm getting very close to female levels. Still, fully coming out seems impossible.

Chapter 6 — “Return to Silverleaf.”

Scene 1: Feedback