Continuing a "Wicked" Week!

Last Wednesday I threw out the challenge of writing a quick story, snippet, scene based around my word challenge of WICKED! It is always fun to see where someone's mind goes when a particular word directs them..hence the reason I love Wednesday's Written Word!

My Royal Court never disappoints. Here are the other entries I received:

from Christa:

“Wicked sweet,” he slapped me on the back.

I smiled and popped my skateboard into my hands. He doesn’t know what wicked is. “Yeah, yeah,” I shrugged him off. “I’m headed home.” Once I turned the corner from the skate park, I dropped through the pavement and dirt, pausing to watch a worm inch by as I loosened my hair from its ponytail so it fell to my shoulders, then landed in the den at home.

“Hey honey,” I kissed my husband on the cheek.

He set down his book and smiled up at me. “Good day?”

I shrugged. “It was fine, but I’m glad I’m home.” I plopped into the couch beside his chair. Sure, the beginning of the marriage had been rough, but we’d settled into a nice routine together.

Coming home to the God of the Underworld wasn’t too bad, if you thought about it.

from Riv Re:

I tossed in the final bit of powder into the pot. It made a loud boom, and I checked to make sure that no one heard and was coming in to check on me. The door was still closed and locked. I looked in the pot and it was a golden color. I held a plastic spoon over the pot and it began to sizzle and disintegrate. Smiling I opened up the little package and tossed it in. Another boom. And then the pot drained. I looked in and jumped back as a little cloud of mist rose. I shivered as it began to circle me.
"You call yourself wicked?" a voice hissed at me. I couldn't speak, so I just nodded.
This earned me a cackle from the mist. The hair rose along my spine.
"Sacrifice something for me, and then you will be under my protection," he commanded.
I nodded and rolled my sleeves up. My classmates wouldn't DARE mock me after this.
I picked up the little package with some tongs. I gave it a small squeeze and all of the liquid drained back out, now a silver color. But it was more steel gray than silver.
I held my hand over the pot. As I hesitated, my palm became hot, like the spoon. I gulped.
"Do it now," the voice hissed, right in my ear. The mist had mostly disappeared, but a bit was left, and it seemed to make the voice stronger.
I clenched my teeth together and plunged my hand into the pot. A silent scream escaped my mouth and I fell to the floor, unconscious.
I awoke to find my arm looking the same as before, but stronger, colder and full of dark magic. "Yes," I whispered to myself, smiling despite the lingering pain, "They won't dare make fun of me again."

from Kirthi:

He was wicked, in the bad way, with tattoos and black leather, and that horrible scar running down the side of his face. I guessed that he must’ve smoked too, and maybe did drugs. What scared me the most, however, was the way he looked at me. It was as if I were a thousand gold bars or as if I were a free, unlimited buffet or something. I didn’t want him to look at me like that, I didn’t want him to look at me at all, but I was afraid. What if he beat me up or stalked me? I knew one thing, that I didn’t like wicked people, that I would never like wicked people, that I never have liked wicked people.
Ironically, we’ve been married for 18 years now, and we’ve been in love for every single one of those years.

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Okay now there happens to be an AWESOME contest over at the wonderful Frankie Writes!

Frankie's 500 Follower Contest Extravaganza ends June 6th

GO! CHECK IT OUT! - Oh Tell her The Princess sent you! Now go, scoot, enjoy your Tuesday!

Have a Terrific Tuesday!