Sunday Snippet: Urban Grit

First week of August down and in the books. Next weekend we move my daughter to her dorm and pray for the best. They're doing a shortened semester, very similar to what a college quarter used to be. She'll be moving back right before Thanksgiving and won't return to campus until January.

Busy week with projects and random things that needed attention. I did get more of my desk cleared off for the big overhaul organization.

Limited viewing time this week but I got a few things watched. I did start Gabriel's Inferno part two and have about half of it finished. I actually decided to dedicate actual time to watching and not do anything else while it's playing. Hence the reason I'm only halfway through.

I watched another episode of Danger Man and also started a new episode of Blue Heelers. Like I said, busy week where I couldn’t spend the time I wanted to catching up on television.

I did have Ovation's morning mysteries on as background noise during the day. Murdoch Mysteries, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, and Midsomer Murders for the win. I also caught a block of Numb3rs on Friday.

That's pretty much it for this week. Tonight's post is from Urban Grit, a novella that got a start with a writing community prompt.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Keeley Fitz and Holt Matterworth produce and star in the reality docu-style web drama, Urban Grit. They shamelessly drag their friends along on their adventures where they try to bust and debunk urban myths … except they quickly learn most legends all have a basis in truth.

And a preview snippet…

Holt led the way up the ornate staircase with Dean backlighting the area. "The research on this place is sketchy, but we had an opening to get some filming done." He held the camera and did a slow sweeping shot of what the steps looked like.

Dean cocked his head. "So, it's what? Haunted? Possessed by something? Do you know?" He moved ahead and adjusted his angle to illuminate the long, wide corridor.

Holt shrugged. "The legend talks about running footsteps, growling and scratching sounds, and claw marks in some of the rooms." Honestly, nothing that would be overly difficult to replicate if anyone had a mind to do so.

Dean caught up, casting a shadowy glow ahead of them. "Hmm. Who owns the place?" He paused beside the first door.

Holt snorted. "Apparently, that's in question. Records have Margaret DuBois listed as the last title holder. But the guy we got permission from claims he has the deed. His name is Mortimer Sparrow." The document certainly appeared to be authentic.

Dean barked out a laugh. "Seriously? Now that's a name for scary tales." He entered the room and swept the light in a wide arc. "Yo, Holt. Check out the corner over there." He wiggled the beam back and forth to indicate the location.

Holt trained the lens on the spot and moved forward. "Ahhh, yeah. Scratches or claw marks." He met Dean's gaze. "Hoax or real?" Hard to tell in the waning light of the evening.

Dean shrugged. "Who knows? But if it's fake, it's a damn good job." He got closer, giving Holt some good backlighting.

Holt zoomed in and panned from one edge of the swipe marks to the other. "About a six-foot arch, yeah?" He glanced over his shoulder to get confirmation.

Dean nodded. "At least. Weird that it's only one, right?" He turned and directed the light in a wide circle. "I'm not seeing anything else on the walls."

Holt moved toward the window and leaned down to get a better look. "Hmm. There're some marks here, too." Directing the camera, he got some footage of the scratches on the sill.

Dean wandered out into the corridor. "Wanna check the room across the hall?" He tried the knob but the door wouldn't budge.

Holt got a kick of warning. "Locked or stuck?" He made his way over to Dean's side.

Dean set the light down. "Stuck, I think." He put his shoulder to the wood panel. "Lemme try to give it a shove." Putting his weight into it, he moved back and lunged forward.

The door gave way and the nasty stench of something disgusting rolled out. Dean coughed and grimaced, backing away. Holt pulled his T-shirt collar up over his nose and grabbed the light. Shining it inside the dimly lit space, he blinked at the sight greeting him. The walls were spackled with feathers and dotted with pock marks—maybe from a beak pecking at the surface?

Dean pulled a mask from his pocket and put it on. "Man, that's some epic aroma. Think a bird got trapped in here?" He moved forward and took the light, giving Holt a chance to grab a mask also.

Holt put the covering on and entered the room. "Eh, this couldn't be from a single bird. No way." The sheer number of feathers littering the floor and walls indicated multiple numbers.

"Holy shit. What the hell happened in here?" Keeley winced and covered her nose, quickly backing out of the room. "Joanie, trust me when I say this, break out the masks and gloves."

Leave it to Keeley to state the obvious. But, damn, if she didn't have a valid point.

This story can't quite decide if going to be super scary or more of a tongue in cheek romp. Either way, I'm having fun writing it!

That's it for this week.

Cheers!

Skye