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I cannot be sure if I smelled him first, or heard his silent step. But I knew he was there, hiding in the bushes behind me. Watching. Judging. Deciding.
The sunlight covered the canopy of trees like a muslin cloth of gold. Soft, warm, translucent. But not down on the forest floor, where the light barely trickled.
I stood there, motionless, breathing in the cold dark and dampness. Drinking in the beauty of it all. Sensing the touch of the soft ground and wet leaves on the soles of my bare feet. The absolute quiet. My escape from the yoke of ‘society’. In the forest I could be myself. I was free.
I opened my arms seeking to embrace the darkness. My white dress and pale skin contrasted against my long black hair. I closed my eyes. My open tresses hung behind me, moving with the slight wind.
That is when I sensed him.
A minute slipped away, having witnessed this silent dance between predator and prey.
Then he stepped forward. I twisted my head just a little –enough to let him know that I was aware of his presence.
He arced around me in a half circle, each step measured and careful. He stood on my right now, a few feet away, where I could see him clearly.
Tall. Naked. Huge. Heavily muscled. Copper skin. Dark hair.
And red eyes. Bright red. Hard red. Like rubies.
Seemingly reassured that I wouldn’t go anywhere, he began his transformation.
Fingernails and toenails became claws capable of ripping an elephant to shreds. Luxurious golden brown hair covered his body. On all fours, muscled limbs rippling.
Then he smiled, revealing his teeth –pointed little spears. I imagined them shining with the blood of his past victims.
I smiled back at him, baring my fangs.He was a worthy adversary.
We vampires just love battling werewolves.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author’s Note: Written for a writing prompt on a writer’s group a few years ago. Had been posted earlier on the writer’s group and on my Facebook page. The prompt is as below: Post a 500 =/- word scene of a first time alien encounter. It can be from the perspective of the alien or the non-alien. For both Sci-Fi and Fantasy writers it can be a first encounter with any new species (aliens or fairies or werewolves, etc).
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Being a writer, Nivedita Louis recognises the struggles of a first-time woman writer and helps many articulate their voice with development, content edits as a publisher.
“I usually write during night”, says author Nivedita Louis during our conversation. Chuckling she continues,” It’s easier then to focus solely on writing. Nivedita Louis is a writer, with varied interests and one of the founders of Her Stories, a feminist publishing house, based in Chennai.
In a candid conversation she shared her journey from small-town Tamil Nadu to becoming a history buff, an award-winning author and now a publisher.
Nivedita was born and raised in a small town in Tamil Nadu. It was for schooling that she first arrived in Chennai. Then known as Madras, she recalls being awed by the city. Her love-story with the city, its people and thus began which continues till date. She credits her perseverance and passion to make a difference to her days as a vocational student among the elite sections of Madras.
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