Storytime Blog Hop October 31, 2018 Have a Hallowing Halloween!


So it began…
 The Fey Wars overflowed into the human world the magic cracking the ley line grid that laced throughout the earth. Magic hit the human realm like a nuclear explosion changing its face and human awareness forever.

The Apocalyptic effect brought much death, human and other, alike. Fey magic mixed with ancient earth magic having an odd effect on the world’s technology. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn’t, and sometimes the unexpected happens.


August hated old cemeteries. Especially now, that three fourths to half of every city was littered with them, since the Emergence that changed the face of the globe.

He hated that relentless nagging pull deep within that propelled him in compass accuracy like a ticking time bomb toward this place, this city. The Seer had spoken of his destiny, not the reason he was here. He was no hero. His family was here. He needed to know if they survived.

He combed through the ruins of what had once been his childhood home. What was left was piles of rubble. He scooped up Spiderman toy that belonged to his youngest brother. He’d be thirteen now if he survived. No bodies, anywhere, unlike others towns he had traveled through.

That didn’t mean they were alive considering the cataclysmic events that had transformed the world for the last three years. It had taken him that long to return.

“You won’t find them here August.”

Mr. Myrrh was a long-standing neighbor. The Myrrh house was one of the few that still stood in this neighborhood. It stood untouched as if it existed outside the disastrous event that occurred. In fact, his house was one of seven that still stood. “So they are alive?”

“I don’t know. Everyone in this area was buried in the east section, lot 490 in Weeping Willows Ridge. If you don’t find them then there is a good chance they are still alive.”

Mr. Myrrh offered his hand. “You’re Sam’s oldest aren’t you? August?”

“Yes, sir. You okay here. You need anything?”

“I”m good. You go find your family. If you come back through,” he nodded at his house, “stop by. I don’t plan on going anywhere.”


Weeping Willow Ridge had tombstones lined domino style, row after row, its edges surrounded by a city in collapse. A suburb of graves.

August spent two hours scouring the entry wall for names and lots. He found one he knew.

Emily April Singh.

He squatted tracing the letters on the stone. Emily had been two last time he saw her. She lived six years.

“August, why you crying?”

August’s hands hit the dirt stilling his backward fall before his butt found the ground. His breath hitched as he inhaled deeply trying to slow his heart. He shut his eyes against the small apparition that was his sister.

A touch like breath caressed his face. “It’s alright. I’m the Har.. Har-bring- ger, Harbinger. He said, ‘Its my destiny’.”


Emily pointed toward the east. “He’s coming.”

“Who?” Emily didn’t answer. She just took August hand and tugged hard. He turned. A dark figure rode toward them on a motorcycle. There was no sound.


This was not how August imagined Death: black leather, long dark hair, piercing silver-blue eyes and tattoos. Tattoos that sometimes moved. It was hard not to stare. Death’s aura felt physical. And that irritating tug that had been nagging for three years, well, it was screaming at him now.

“August William Singh its taken you long enough to arrive. Time does not stop for the living. Let’s go.”

“So I’m living. Good to know. Where are we going?” The shock was wearing off. The sinking feeling in his stomach eerily warned he already knew the answer.

“To raise the dead, Reaper.”


Death paused arching a brow. “My second lieutenant. Remember.”



Reaper, by Juneta Key ←YOU ARE HERE!
 Snow White Tabloid Style, by Fannie Suto
 Starving Artist, by Samantha Bryant
 The Halloween Dance, by Barbara Lund
 The Ghost In My Yard, by Elizabeth McCleary
 Her Majesty, by Katharina Gerlach
 Chris Bridges Posting Storytime Blog Hop. Give her shout out and say Hello!
 Black Moon, by Lauren M. Catherine
 Poe’s Heart, by J. Q. Rose
 Hanks A Lot, by Joe Bouchard
 In The Gray Lake, by Karen Lynn
 The Right Honorable Brotherhood of Spirits, Poltergeists, and Ghosts, by Vanessa Wells
 Life of a Pumpkin, by Bill Bush
 Why Should I?, by Gina Fabio

Originally published at Juneta Key.