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42 responses to “Writing Group: The Shadows are Watching”

1. 

   Gilfredy Acevedo

   November 8, 2019

   The Ramblings of a Domesticated Animal

   By: Gilfredy Acevedo

   It’s over. The only thought I could muster as I ran for what seemed to be a never ending passage through the forest. If I miss a step, take a wrong path, give the slightest hint of my whereabouts, and I will be forced to suffer an unimaginable death that no living being should ever bear witness to, let alone experience it. The dread of knowing all the different forms of mutilation and slaughter that I could possibly experience firsthand is slowly peeling at the few layers of sanity I have left. Tell me what you would do, because I am at a standstill. I don’t know what to do, could you please tell me? I’m begging you, please show me a bit of humanity for God’s sake and end my life. I’m asking you, why are you just listening to my ramblings, as if I am solely speaking for your entertainment? Wait, do you hear that? They’re here. All I asked from you was to spare me from the monstrosities that I will have to experience do to your incompetence. Look at them, the satisfaction on their faces. The grotesque black and white patterns, freakishly large ears, and the hanging gut that lies below their oversized body makes me convulse in fear. Their dark, empty eyes all glaring towards me at once, as they imagine the different ways they will prepare me to enjoy the highest degree of cuisine available in the market. They tell me it won’t hurt, and that it is for the greater good. Should I have to suffer because I am not their equal? Regardless, all I can do now is pray that I will cause them a lethal infection as they gnaw and chew through the meat in my bones, so they can suffer at least a fraction of what I am going to feel. Even though the human harvest is an inevitable part of life, I wish for once they could feel what we feel. And yet, the only word they can seem to ever say, is moo.

   Reply
2. 

   Darragh Counihan

   October 25, 2019

   “Lux Tenebris”
   By Darragh Counihan

   Order Only Through Domination
   Purity Only Through Eradication
   Life Only Through Consumption
   All Hail The Light

   This is the Dogma of the Queen-Mother, to whom I have dedicated my life. It is the shield of my soul, the blade of my will, and that which protects me from the lies and trickery of the Shades.
   Since the Ascension, it has been the duty of the Inquisitors to protect our kin, to eradicate the filthy vermin which mire our blessed heartland. Today, another infestation has been destroyed, but I fear I have been afflicted with their impurity.

   The slaughter was magnificent, and as I turned to cut down one of the Shade hatchlings, another threw itself into the path of the blow. They are hideous creatures; a pink membrane surrounds their endoskeleton and soft innards, covered in patches of keratin strands, with short tentacle-like appendages. This one was no different, squealing, roaring and crying as an animal fearing for its life will do. But something in it’s eyes stayed me for a moment. As it cradled its hatchling in the face of death, it almost made me believe for a moment that these creatures could have a soul. But only for a moment.

   I cut them down, their weak forms ripped apart by my claws. Once they were dead, my mandibles and proboscis picked the remains clean, blood spattering my white armoured carapace, as my brothers watched. Wasting even the corpses of our enemies is unacceptable.
   My mind returns to them often, but I will not falter in my duties. Be they more than animal, it does not matter.
   They Shades will watch from the dark as they are exterminated, one by one.
   The Age of Shaodw is over.
   The Age of Light is now.

   Reply
   1. 

      Samantha DeShong

      October 25, 2019

      Oh, I liked this. Humans are considered to be “The Shadows,” Shades, soulless vermin to be destroyed by a better, higher force. All for a greater good. I’m curious to know what they are, aliens or something else? This was chilling, I’ve seen similar stories with aliens but I like them all the same. I enjoy reading stories where us mere humans are hunted and seen only as vermin. I dunno what that says about me, but an excellent story.

      Reply
3. 

   puzzleddev

   October 25, 2019

   “Green Shadows”, Tim Zygor |

   Sheep and lambs lay or stood in the fields. Most slept through the cold, only the dogs stayed vigilant in this night. One of them raised its head slightly, turning towards a shadow, only distinguishable because it was darker than the new-moon night. The shadow froze in place: Had he made a noise? Had a glint of metal caught the dog’s eye? Was his camouflage slipping? For thirty glacial seconds, the dog peered into the dark, then it slowly lowered its head onto its paws again and the shadow relaxed visibly. Sliding through the grass he continued until a window came into view. He checked his webbing and lowered himself onto the damp earth, the massive rifle now comfortably rested on the ground. Once more the green shadow peered through his scope, through the window, onto the tiny bed, where a tiny figure slept quietly. Too close to speak now, the shadow just depressed a button twice.

   Not a kilometer away another shadow in green heard two clicks and noted: “0300: Sound asleep.”.

   Reply
   1. 

      Darragh Counihan

      October 25, 2019

      Definitely an interesting take on the concept of a “Shadow”. I guess when someone says shadow, they so often think in terms of horror or fantasy, they forget the modern military context it can exist it as well.
      I particularly like your use of the word “glacial” to describe the moment of potentially being spotted. I think its a perfect fit to describe that deathly cold feeling of initial fear and momentary panic, while also perfectly encapsulating how slowly the time passes as well.
      Only small bit of critique I would give is on the formatting. I think perhaps breaking this down into a few smaller paragraphs or even just maybe starting on a new line once or twice would help your pieces readability a lot.
      That aside, I really enjoyed Green Shadows!
      Nice work Tim!

      Reply
4. 

   Pedro Hernandez

   October 25, 2019

   “Tunnel Vision” By Devourer

   It was strangely comforting, this forgotten corner of the world with moss and vines taking up every dusty surface where warm light spilled through the cracked window panes above. The train tunnel had been abandoned a long time ago, sealed up and left to rot. I loved to paint here, amongst the ruin and decay of yesterday, slowly being consumed by time and nature.

   After a while though, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, goosebumps crawling all across my skin. I looked at the tunnel mouth on my right.

   Two red eyes peered back from above in the dark.

   Then the shadows moved.

   It was as if the shadow of the tunnel had come alive, dragging itself into the light with monstrous arms of black bone. Wicked horns curved down from its head, and a dense black fog clung to its fleshless body. Dark mist spilled from its gaping jaws, red glowing eyes fixed on me.

   I turned and ran.

   The tunnel shook and groaned, dust falling from the ceiling as something massive dragged itself through the tunnel, with the rusted rails screeching in agony.
   It’s hellish scream echoed off the stained walls, magnified a thousand times by the narrow tunnel and all around me. My heart was in my throat, feet crunching on the gravel below. I could feel each time it’s monstrous hands slammed down, dragging its putrid body forward.

   The outside world shone into the tunnel, just a few more metres away. Something barely scraped my back, whizzing past. Then I was out, stumbling into broad daylight. I snapped my neck back to see if it was following. It remained just inside the yawning mouth of the tunnel, almost invisible in the pitch black shadows, eyes ablaze with hunger.

   Reply
5. 

   Zendrelax

   October 25, 2019

   A Candle in the Wind, by Zendrelax

   There is terror in the night, it is said. Who knows what lurks beyond the edge of sight? So tremble and they quake for fear of what might be looking back, what might be able to see you. ‘Tis only proper.

   Fools. More wise to fear the day. Life is to toil in the light, trudging through sweat and grime and muck and mire. To kneel and sing and hail and pray, that the sun might grace them. And if you are struck blind by the light of day, you have only yourself to blame, to have presumed to look on the sun’s celestial splendor.

   Doubly foolish, for all fires die. So too shall the luminous tyrant. Thus shall be the last of all days, and when it comes all shall be free. It shall be preceded by slowness; one by one the little lights shall fade and vanish, as the yawning shadow, and in time there shall be only the sun, and its gibbous mirror. Then all will be in readiness; shadows are made stronger for the death of light.

   And then the night shall come out of the abyss and swallow the sun.

   But until then, here we remain, in the restful arms of the shade. For you see, we are those things beyond the edge of sight, but you need not be afraid, for we have learned from our aegis and patron. The shadows are watching, waiting, lurking with patience unyielding. The spine of time is long, and it stretches far beyond mortal sight.

   All you know is a candle in the wind.

   Reply
   1. 

      Pedro Hernandez

      October 25, 2019

      The imagery here is fantastic, title ties in perfectly with the piece you’ve written here. Good rhyme in “trudging through sweat and grime and muck and mire.”

      The tone here is also very effective at delivering the condescension of the narrator to those who fear the dark. Favourite line has to be “Doubly foolish, for all fires die. So will the luminous tyrant.”

      Also, I recognize the “The spine of time is life long” from a piece you’ve written before. Very nice.

      Overall, the piece has a beautiful and twisted soul, highly vivid and is highly effective.

      Reply
   2. 

      Darragh Counihan

      October 25, 2019

      You’ve really made some incredibly efficient and effective use of the limited wordcount for the prompt Zen! Awesome work!

      The story has an incredibly evocative tone to it. It creates a really strong image of old storytellers and oracles crowded around fires, espousing their tales and wisdom to spellbound youths and wizened adults alike.

      At the same time, there’s a wonderful sense of menace a futility to the story, and your choice to personify both light and dark as malevolent figures lends the piece a surprising weight of oppression.

      However, while the mood and writing of the piece are incredibly strong, if we’re to judge it on the criteria of plot or “things happening”, that’s the only part where it falls down. Unfortunately, with no events or characters to contextualize this piece in its current form as a kind of monologue, while it is excellent prose, it’s not technically the best “story”.

      But then again, is does much more in 300 words than I’ve seen many writers do in ten times that much space.
      Again, awesome work Zen!

      Reply
6. 

   Connor/Dragoneye

   October 25, 2019

   “The Abyss Is There” by Connor/Dragoneye
   Paris sluggishly paced around the smooth jet black monolith, his eyes consuming the readable contents, regardless of the blindfold and mask obscuring them. He thumbed through the scrawlings that were his notes to review what he witnessed: the ashes, the vessel of water, the heating time, the gestation period within the Mouth. But something was missing. The rest of the components. The runic inscriptions. It would take Paris and the rest of the Watchers ages to crack the rest of the formula.

   “Materials required is what’s left. But, what else could be required?”

   A Watching Maiden, Rhea, took up her own paper and quill as she circled the monolith herself, scribbling away. The feather’s tip resembled a thin claw scrapping against wood, with the stain of ink seeping into the paper’s very fibers.

   “Perhaps myrewood dust?” she piped in.

   Paris shook his head. “Old Threllish alchemists didn’t have access to refined myrewood, and they were able to create batches of Embers over the course of a couple of days.” Paris rested his head against the monolith in defeat, whispering “Abyss, help me.”

   Suddently, a familiar gentle voice rung within the back of his mind, as faint as a breeze of wind.

   “Rose.”

   Of course! “Rose thorns, Rhea. Get the thralls to fetch some rose thorns.” The sting of beauty was surely what the Abyss needed to create Embers. “I thank you, Mother of Night. You will not be disappointed.”

   Reply
7. 

   Arun Rampersad

   October 22, 2019

   “Modern Wizardry”, by Arun Rampersad (@a _wandering _storyteller)

   Little digits, they click and clack as are furtively danced across white scrawled glyphs. They aren’t remotely close but remain nearby to share your problems, your quarrels and respite. Not counselors, they comprehend your dilemmas, unravel secrets woven in the household as your life plays like a fiction in their eyes. And eyes are everywhere, quite plainly where they shouldn’t dwell.

   Portals of the sight and sound lay agape at your fingertips during morning ablutions and reliefs. A cranny in the bedchamber accommodates the dark web along which the spider weaves its trap. That red dot shining on the widow’s abdomen is as clear a sign as any but you are pettily troubled and pass with an invisible cane.

   You scrutinize an elegant figure with and without undergarments, before and after a painted face. Then to fuss over a looking glass in that pale and frilled corset. They think you are beautiful regardless, even with shot eyes painting ebony ribbons down your cheeks. Their playthings hum, enraptured in your grace.

   Your sorrow grows and there is none to console you, hold you close and stroke your hair. But they would never hurt you my lady, not like the others. They are a gentle folk, dwelling in peace like hermits. You seek comfort in solace, warmth in visions of a portal, images of pleasure you wish you had but cannot provide yourself. Only you can simply try with your given devices.

   The yellow werelight flickers its response then, a reminder of the wizard’s intimacy. He heals naught, but all ordeals and pleasures remain in his glass sphere to be reviewed afterwards, high in black towers, a downtown apartment with a brisker than wind connection.

   Reply
   1. 

      ArkansanDragon

      October 24, 2019

      I don’t quite understand this one, but at the same time, I’m very intrigued. At first, it seems to be describing computers, social media, youtube, the dark web, etc. The character’s struggle with loneliness is made very clear. The “shadows” in this case, those they meet online? The ending with the yellow werelight is where it lost me completely.

      Reply
   2. 

      Samantha DeShong

      October 24, 2019

      At first I didn’t quite get this one, but all the same I found it a very interesting read. As much of a marvel that the internet is, it can lead to a state of loneliness that’s in some ways more disturbing than without it. We have so much at our fingertips, but it has a dark side to it that we don’t often see, or don’t want to see.

      Reply
8. 

   Kestrel

   October 22, 2019

   Ever Watching
   By K.S.D

   Humans are strange in how they perceive us. They see their silhouettes cast onto the ground and think nothing of us, but an abstract form on a wall illuminated by light is enough to send most running. I wonder what they would do, knowing that our kind exists in even the most unassuming bit of dark. They fear the tiny arachnids that scurry about in their homes, how would they respond to the thousand invisible irises that watch their every step? We are not escapable, unable to be killed under a tissue like our many legged friends. Their sun, their lights provide us the habitat we need, ever observing. Sometimes they feel our gaze in the complete black. “True darkness”, as they call it. We run free in the black, swirling around them in a writhing mass of judgemental glares, their fear a decadent feast to us. They usually only last a few seconds in the cold, bony hands of the void of true black. Their lights send my brethren scrambling back to their shadows, hurrying before the stark light can touch them, but it’s enough to sustain us.
   They scare their young with tales of our kind. To them we are what keeps their children from getting up at night, monsters under the bed who threaten to swallow them in one fell swoop. Such stories make our hunt much simpler. Settling in the deep, forgotten corners of a scared child’s room is a steady fold source, at least for a few years before they decide they’re ‘too old’ to be afraid of us. Little do they know we don’t disappear with age. Our gaze is inescapable. We are the ever relenting watchers, lurking in the shadows and waiting for our next meal.

   Reply
   1. 

      Arun Rampersad

      October 23, 2019

      I like how you took something most people overlook and personified the hell out of it, giving them restrictions, a little backstory and a seemingly endless population that nobody notices. The little details in this bring everything together nicely.

      Reply
   2. 

      Samantha R DeShong

      October 23, 2019

      I didn’t need to sleep anytime soon. But seriously, this was very good and eerie. The monsters under the bed and in our closet, having their own culture? Plus their own backstory with restrictions and no one seems to notice the endless horror in the dark? Chilling and a great story.

      Reply
   3. 

      Pedro Hernandez

      October 25, 2019

      I really like this entry. It’s a clever use of the very limited 300 words, delivering effective imagery that I personally loved. One way to conserve one more word could have been to cut the “we are not escapable” with “we are inescapable”. Also a small grammar error with “fold source”

      Reply
9. 

   ArkansanDragon

   October 22, 2019

   “Who are the Shepherds? Who is the Flock?”, by Magan (300 words)

   The small class of shepherd apprentices gathered around their campfire against the autumn chill, their herding bells tinkling softly. It was a rare night with Dracora’s two moons absent from the starry sky. The leaves in the firelight shone back their fire colors, with cooler blues, browns, and greys peeking through, having shed the purples and yellow-greens of summer.

   It was the first of the month this class would spend alone in one of many massive herd craters. Journeyman rank required one month of survival skills in each habitat the crater-pens contained, along with knowledge of healing, herding techniques, and their various animal wards.

   The dragon fledgling admired his flamework, feeding it more wood, as the other teenagers passed around food and hot chocolate. “Heard any good rumors?”

   “All the animals are getting bigger,” said the centaur, “The horses are larger than my parents now! Smarter, too, they think.”

   The elf added, “All the herds are restless; they steal crops, stalk hunters and shepherds. It’s creepy.”

   “Ridiculous!” said the feathered serpent, “They’re cunning, sure, but still animals. And we’ve magic! Predator and prey alike fear it. Besides, they know our bells, that we shepherds care for them.”

   Low growls surrounded the camp, and the apprentices startled, seeing eyes glow in the undergrowth. Sudden roars as three giant felines burst towards them! Tiger, lioness, and leopard, double their usual size and unafraid of fire. No time to react as the cats leaped–

   –A great bellow and a fourth shape rushed forward, hooves and horns gleaming as it kicked and gored.

   Yowls of pain, anger, frustration, and the big cats fled.

   The elephant-sized aurochs bull, horns bloodied, bowed to the shepherds, calmly leaving. They stared after it, huddled together in fear and shock.

   “What just happened?!” asked the kirin.

   All sat dumbstruck.

   Reply
   1. 

      puzzleddev

      October 23, 2019

      I do love the reversal in the story, with traditionally mythical creatures in the role which is traditionally human. The setup is cleanly executed, invoking images of campfires on a dark night. I would however question if details such as the existence of two moons is worth including in micro fiction. I would write more, but alas I can not.

      Reply
   2. 

      Zendrelax

      October 25, 2019

      I find the idea of a dragon shepherd funnier than I probably should.

      This is a nice one. I kinda like how the principal characters don’t actually know what’s watching them from the shadow for most of the piece. That is, after all, the point of hiding in the shadows.

      And at the same time as their physical awareness is limited, so too is their awareness of their situation in a more abstract sense. As your title suggests, they might not be the shepherds they think they are. Both of these together play off the theme in an abstract way that I think is really cool.

      And you know what? I think a dragon being kept like a sheep is even funnier than a dragon being a shepherd.

      Reply
10. 

    Samantha DeShong

    October 22, 2019

    “Eyes on Me.”
    by Samantha Realynn

    The eyes were on me again.

    I expected no less, and I felt a shiver run through me and my heart beat faster as my adrenaline spiked. I clutched the edge of the bed tighter to keep my hands from shaking. I kept myself still and silent, even as my heart seemed to echo. I could feel the eyes roam over me, and despite being fully clothed I felt vulnerable and naked.

    The room was pitch black, keeping me blind. It was foolish. I was at the mercy of the shadows and what dwelt within them. The lamp was next to me. All I had to do was flick a switch and I would be as safe as I could be. Light created shadows after all, and though they could not reach me, they could still watch.

    I stood and stepped away from the bed. I could feel the darkness pressing around me, enveloping me. I could feel the eyes coming closer, even if I couldn’t see them. I let out a small gasp, the sound almost deafening, as something cold pressed against the back of my neck. I felt a prick and the light slice into my skin.

    Another scar added to so many others.

    “We watch, and you offer.” I shivered again as the words forced their way into my skull and gasped as the claws ran up my arms. “So willingly…you let us taste. Feed. You spurn the light for us.”

    I bit my lip as the claws dug in, but I never tried to fight. Instead, I felt myself sinking into it. I couldn’t help it. The darkness, and what it offered was addicting. I whimpered as I felt more scars being added to my ever-growing collection.

    “We shall cherish you.”

    Reply
    1. 

       Kestrel

       October 22, 2019

       I love the idea of the main character being addicted to whatever it is the shadow monsters have to offer them. The line ‘so willingly, you let us taste’ sent a shiver down my spine, it’s just so ominous. Really well done!

       Reply
    2. 

       David Wiseman

       October 22, 2019

       Wow, a dark and mysterious story! Evokes fear and titillation. You create the horrifying scenario then bend it to convey a sense the victim is actually growing a desire for it to come each time like an addiction. Well done description of the contrast of light and dark and tapping into our primal fear of the unknown.

       Reply
    3. 

       Arun Rampersad

       October 23, 2019

       I like the idea of the victim developing a kind of desire for it. It seems they don’t want it but at the same time know there is no escaping the inevitable and have developed some unhealthy coping mechanisms, maybe even a strange curiosity towards it. Nicely done!

       Reply
    4. 

       Zendrelax

       October 25, 2019

       That’s certainly a toxic relationship. It made me feel sick. Good job.

       The atmosphere is very strong in this piece. The “eyes” are an oppressive presence all throughout, and when it makes contact just makes my skin crawl. You leave exactly what this thing up to the imagination, and makes for a far more fearsome presence. And the revelation that the perspective character desires this really amplifies that.

       The only real critique I have is the use of the word “addiction.” The *idea* is a good one, but it feels more like telling rather than showing, which hobbled the tension for me. As a consequence “We shall cherish you” didn’t hit quite as hard as it could have. Of course, that may not be a fair criticism, considering the strict character limit.

       Overall, it was definitely good.

       Reply
    5. 

       Gilfredy Acevedo

       November 8, 2019

       I enjoyed how it starts off describing a very unsettling yet familiar feeling in regards to spirits or the like, and then suddenly reveals the masochistic relationship between the protagonist and the spirits, which is was an interesting turn of events, as the contrast between horror and pleasure was nicely detailed even though it was brief. My only criticism would be that the last line, while you got the point across, could have been a bit more haunting, to leave a dreadful feeling for the reader. Overall very good, considering the word limit.

       Reply
11. 

    David Wiseman

    October 22, 2019

    The Stranger
    by David Wiseman

    Ambrose Blevins was a purveyor of antiquities. His small eccentrically decorated shop was quiet, when The Stranger walked in. To this day, Ambrose could not remember The Stranger’s face, but he could never forget his voice. For his voice rang with discordant resonance forever etching into his mind. In The Stranger’s arms was carried a small green velvet covered box, of which contained something of great importance and nothing, based on the perspective of the onlooker. Upon opening the box Mr. Blevins, at first saw nothing, then upon the first utterance of the strange man’s voice a shape began to appear. What he then saw was that of a dark mottled carved stone intricately detailed in the semblance of a leviathan shape with no perceivable tool marks, whatsoever. Ambrose took the figurine into his hands to examine the work and it felt impossibly cold, as though it would frostbite his skin. Though, as he turned it in his hand, an unnatural warmth began to emanate that he felt flow through him. So deep in his examination he did not see The Stranger leave, nor observe the passage of time. For when next he saw, it was dark outside the window and shadows crept all about his shop. It was then that he again heard The Stranger’s voice, but not as though he was there, but from the shadows and within his own mind and felt the weight of eternal ethereal sight upon him.

    Reply
    1. 

       Samantha R DeShong

       October 22, 2019

       Kinda eerie, I definitely felt a shiver of my own as I read this. Very nice imagery.!

       Reply
    2. 

       Kestrel

       October 22, 2019

       I love how unsettling this piece is, and you have some really great imagery, specifically when describing the figurine. In a way it reminds me of one of my favorite horror podcasts I listen to, which was also cool. Really good job with it!

       Reply
    3. 

       puzzleddev

       October 23, 2019

       You really nailed the eerie nature of antiquity collections: The places where things go to die. To me it always felt a bit like a graveyard and this captures this feeling perfectly. I also like the mystery: Of course you cannot explain in micro fiction, but mystique is still not a given. Well done.

       Reply
    4. 

       Samantha DeShong

       October 25, 2019

       This story was haunting. I kept getting this image of dreaded inevitability, the same as when I see a graveyard. All things change and die, it’s simply the way of the world. Even man-made, artificial things die. This is full of great imagery! I really enjoyed the way it made me feel.

       Reply
12. 

    revisis

    October 21, 2019

    “Hunters and Stalkers” by Excelsius

    A small group walked through the pitch black undergrowth.
    The Sky above dark with what the humans called “The Shadow” as its massive shape blotted out the stars.
    This darkness was only increased by the dense canopy overhead, if that was even possible.

    But the group was not hindered by this. Their eyes glowed in a variety of colour, from yellow to red to even a dull green. What they possessed wasnt just night vision, as this would require residual light to work. They were in possession of vision so powerful, that even absolute darkness was only like a late dusk.

    They were Amatus, the most supreme hunters of this world. No magic would pierce their skin, and normal weapons were fruitless efforts.
    The gods had made them to slay monsters in the night to keep humanity and its allies safe. But once they had become the apex predator…all others were just prey.

    The leader of this small hunting party was a especially big white-scaled specimen, it’s dark claws and yellow eyes stark contrasts to its bleak colour. He was one of their strongest hunters, slaying humans and monstrous beasts alike. But in this night, the longest and darkest night of the year, something was different.

    His head flitted back and forth, and this near-invisible aura whipped out from his body to inspect the underbush left and right of the group.
    He was sure he felt eyes on him as he lead the group through the night.
    And no matter how often he changed course, the eyes did not vanish.

    His group might only think him cautious…but he had seen them.
    The shapes of darkness his superior vision could not pierce.
    He did not know how many there were, but the shadows remained.
    Kept watching.

    Reply
    1. 

       Talon

       October 22, 2019

       Reminds me of a kind of folk lore almost, or a greek legend. Not bad ^^ 7/10

       Reply
    2. 

       David Wiseman

       October 22, 2019

       You have established a twist in which the hunters are now possibly the prey. Fleshed out and you would have the makings of a richly detailed backstory and enthralling tale. A little more description of the Amatus would help the reader have a better mental image of what they are and let the reader see through the character’s eyes.

       Reply
       1. 

          revisis

          October 22, 2019

          I would have loved to do so! But the 300 Words limited into how much detail I could go xD

          Reply
    3. 

       Samantha R DeShong

       October 22, 2019

       The hunters becoming the hunted! Very well done!

       Reply
    4. 

       Samantha R DeShong

       October 22, 2019

       I definitely like the theme of the hunters becoming the hunted, as I stated with my earlier, quick reply. I definitely want to know more, but I get the word limit. In any case, it’s a good story. I’ve been rereading a few Grimm Tales for an online class and this seems like it would fit right in.

       Reply
    5. 

       Arun Rampersad

       October 23, 2019

       At first I thought you were turning the prompt on its head and making the Amatus the ‘shadows’, putting a face to the creepy unknown. I was pleasantly surprised by the end and would have happily read more if not for the word limit. Also, props to getting all that worldbuilding into such a short piece.

       Reply
    6. 

       ArkansanDragon

       October 24, 2019

       The worldbuilding in this has me curious to learn more. Good job with telling so much with so few words. I could easily see how such powerful creatures would go from being guardians to hunting everything with them being invulnerable to damage like that. I like the idea of these apex predators sudden having a new threat to worry about.

       Reply
       1. 

          revisis

          October 25, 2019

          For anyone curious, this is what a normal Adult Amatus looks like:https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/477632999127515146/637180765557358602/image0-17.jpg

          without any changes or adaptions.

          Reply
          1. 

             revisis

             October 25, 2019

             All Credit to: https://twitter.com/Jaborix

             Reply
    7. 

       Gilfredy Acevedo

       November 8, 2019

       I think the concept of the Amatus is very intriguing, as it could develop into a story enriched in lore, as there are many ways you can take the direction of this group of hunters, and despite having a maximum word count, I think you established necessary details that while simple in execution, is effective and can lead to much more.

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