WEP August 2022 Contest Piece

My first entry for the WEP challenge this year was inspired by Celtic mythology, to be more specific, the legend of Leanan Sidhe. The Leanan Sidhe is an evil fairie known to inspire poets and musicians, making it an oddly perfect fit for the Moonlight Sonata theme. However, the muse’s cost for the creative energizing comes at a steep cost for the artist. While I choose a more unusual take on the victim’s end fate, I feel it suits the narrative overall. Humbly, I present my tale entitled A Chance Encounter.

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Six months have passed since I initially encountered the strange luminous figure lurking amongst the dark and foggy moors. Yet, I cannot shake the sight from my waking mind or my dreams. Nor can I forget the enchanting chorus that seemed to emanate from around this unknown presence. The mystifying tune will be forever etched into my thoughts, giving rise to images that are equally beautiful as they are disturbing. As this mesmerizing sonata repeats throughout my day, subtly being seduced by its call. Unfortunately, the more I resist the choruses summoning, the urge to return to the moor grows stronger. I know I will have to travel back to the plateau soon. As the fortitude required to fight its hypnotic call falters, madness will be all that remains. My research since that evening discovered nothing in the six months since my initial encounter to suggest who or what they might be. Nor could I uncover a reason for my abnormal symptoms since that very night. An ill omen of what my future may become, I fear.

The moors’ air was humid, and still, on the night, I reluctantly returned to visit. I could hear the owls call out as they hunted their prey. Every once in a while, another owl would hoot back as a response. Creating a nocturnal symphony, only punctuated by the buzzing of insects and the belching ribbits of frogs. Fortunately, the moon hung bright against the sky. They bestowed some of its light on my meager camp and a small fire. The smoke helped keep the insects at bay. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling something hidden in the darkness was watching my every move. If that were the truth, it would remain a factor I prayed was false. Other than the animals that called the swamp home, the unseen eyes would likely belong to the mysterious specter. The figure was directly responsible for my mind’s growing rapture.

Suddenly, the air fell still and eerily silent, leaving me alone with my racing mind. Without warning or reason, I felt the hairs on my arms raise against my jacket’s spun fabric. My suspicions and heartbeat rose to the point I feared for my life. My eyes rapidly searched the immediate area to fathom the reason for this uneasy quiet. It took me longer than I would have liked to notice the subtle blue hue of my fire. The sapphire color steadily expanded until that was all that remained. Tragically that was when I observed the flame transform its wild essence into that of a glowing figure. An entity was gradually taking a feminine shape, enveloped by a smokeless pale blue fire. A short chorus of distorted, unnatural sounds shattered the paralyzing silence between this mysterious presence and my being. Yet, its lack of movement from the burning embers further unnerved me. I forced myself to challenge this stunning state and reach for the small flask in my jacket’s pocket. Desperately I hoped that its contents would provide the courage necessary to break this creature’s spell. However, regardless of size, each movement forced an unbearable agony to course through my body. Screaming out against the night, I wondered if this was my end or just the beginning of some twisted hell. I watched in terror as the specter’s right hand closed, causing my scream to fall silent.

This mysterious entity finally spoke through the unnatural sonata that inexpiably emitted itself from her. “Is e seo a’ phris airson brosnachadh*,” was all it said before the maddening sonata consumed my mind and soul.

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Word Count 595

Critique level: Comment Only

* Translation: This is the price for inspiration.

44 thoughts on “WEP August 2022 Contest Piece

  1. HI,
    To be honest, I don’t know what to say. The story in itself reminds me a lot of Goethe’s Faust who sold his soul to Mephistopheles for a big price and when he changed his mind he could never get it back. To sell your soul for fame is a horrible path to take. A very interesting take on the prompt.
    Shalom aleichem

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hi Christopher.

    I can’t help think that your atmospheric writing is very similar to my own. Eerie, passionate, dark, intense, and intriguing. Such and abominable muse to suck the soul out of an aspiring artist. So much like the Dementors in the world of Harry Potter.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Your story grabbed me from the beginning and held me tight until the end. I love scary stories and this myth-based tale is dark and frightening and well written. What a costly price for inspiration. Good take on the prompt. Thanks for a good read.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Hi Christopher – you certainly drew me in … that necessity to return to the moor, with its swampy occupants … then how the mind will conjure things for us … real or beyond our world – I hope the spirit is kind for him. Good to see you again – all the best – Hilary

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Dark and gripping, you portrayed the inevitability of the trapped soul’s journey. Very atmospheric. I find all mythology fascinating.
    Pleased to see you back at WEP!

    Liked by 1 person

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