Writing Group: Your Heart in My Hands

Hello, Doctors and Sorcerers.

Have you ever felt… unguarded? Vulnerable? It’s a scary feeling, isn’t it? But maybe that depends on who you’ve put your trust into. It’s so hard to be sure. I hope you can let your guard down just one more time, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Your Heart in My Hands

RULES AND GUIDELINES BELOW!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

Even at a first glance, this prompt gets so many conflicting ideas going in the mind, doesn’t it? There’s so much potential here for some romance, or a bit of realism… or perhaps something more sinister.

If we take it figuratively, it plays into the idea of vulnerability and trust, or even a lack thereof. You could write about two lovers trying to rekindle the spark they lost so long ago, opening themselves up to one another. It could be someone taking the initiative to help a friend with a problem they’ve been having for a long time, and addressing the main issue rather than looking for bandaid solutions. Perhaps it’s not a heart at all, but a child, cradled in the loving arms of their father as he vows to protect them from the cruel world. 

Of course, there’s always the more literal route we can explore as well. An assassin fulfilling a contract, a druid igniting the heart of an Elemental, an evil queen after the heart of her niece over jealousy. You could write about that time in middle school when your friend told your crush you liked them. Or you could write about how a heart surgeon is one of the few people you never want to hear say “oops”. Perhaps you’ve chosen a mechanic, who spends their spare time trying to bring life to a robot. Maybe even go from a robot’s perspective, letting its guard down and letting this new human into their secluded, automated world. Or you could even simply go the route of a parent sewing a felt heart into their child’s new teddy bear, a symbol that their love will always be there.

As always, the possibilities are endless! And knowing all of you, anything you create from this will be spectacular. 

So go forth and spill your heart on the page! We’ll handle it with care, we promise.

—Shawna

Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Saturday at 7:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

The whole purpose of this is to show off the creativity of the community, while also helping each other to become better writers. Lean into that spirit, and get ready to help each other improve their confidence in their writing, as well as their skill with their craft!

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    3. Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
    4. Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
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Comments

95 responses to “Writing Group: Your Heart in My Hands”

  1. ClockworkPigeonz Avatar
    ClockworkPigeonz

    “At the End of a Rough Day.”
    By Clockwork Pigeonz

    The shop was dim and empty when Anton slipped inside to be greeted by the chime of the shop bell. The pedestrians and automations passing outside traced their long shadows across the floor. Dust motes danced between beams of sunlight over boxes of cogs and gears.

    Across the room, he watched as Marcus pulled away from his magnifying glass. Lit by the dim glow of the fireplace, Anton could see the small, smile that pulled up the edges of his lips.

    “You’re back!”

    “Work let out early.” He replied, striding forward to hang his coat on its hook behind the counter.

    Marcus only hummed leaning back over his desk, elbows braced on the worn surface, fingers dug into his hair. Anton frowned, stepping closer until he could see parts strewn over the desk- some blackened and warped. A mug of coffee sat half-touched and the fire burned low in the grate.

    “Rough day?” he surmised, placing a careful hand on Marcus’s shoulder.

    “Burnt a fuse…fried a circuit board, and who knows what else!” Marcus huffed. “I was hoping to have it finished by the summer…but now?” what escaped his throat was a heartbroken and defeated laugh.

    “None of that, you’ll get there.”

    “Don’t you get how many lives this could save!” Shooting to his feet so quickly that Anton was forced backwards. The inventor gestured down at the mangled contraption, before turning away to pace by the fire.

    The unexpected shock of it sent a harsh curl of anger up his throat. His lips parted, tongue sharpened with pain until he caught the look in his husband’s eyes. Exhaustion and hopelessness in an ordinarily bright face. Warm, green eyes left glassy and distant as if one more stumble away from tears. The sudden harshness melting away into something apologetic.

    “None will be saved if you work yourself to death.” Anton replied gently, reaching forward to draw Marcus into his arms.

    “I-I just…”

    “You WILL get there and I’ll help you.” He soothed, drawing back to plant a quick kiss on his husband’s nose.

    “Sap.”

    “I’m your sap, though?”

    “Always?”

  2. Makeshift Mousepad Avatar
    Makeshift Mousepad

    A Familiar Face

    By Makeshift Mousepad

    Joseph held a child up from their armpits to present them to Ariadne. “Oh, come on. Look at how cute they are! I even held off on naming her until I showed you.”

    “Joseph. Why the hell is it holding an arm?” Ariadne asked.

    Joseph and the child glanced down in unison then back up. “Well… I might have cut it off of them… When I was trying to kill them.”

    “So, this was one of your drones. Why didn’t you just absorb it into your network?”

    “It missed a few software updates. One thing led to another and it had to shrink to accommodate the loss of mass.”

    “Alright. So, why does it look like us!”

    “Well, uh… Your skin cells were still on my hand when I attacked them. So, they must have used that to rebuild their body.”

    Ariadne took a deep breath and rubbed her temples, “Are you telling me that we have a child now.”

    Joseph sat the child on his shoulder and, in unison, she placed her spare arm on her shoulder. “Uh… yeah, kind of. But just look at how cute they are. They remind me of a flower.”

    “I know you’re aren’t necessarily a human but how can you be so calm?” Ariadne asked.

    The child, watching Ariadne’s movements, turned and patted the severed arm against Joseph’s head. “Bonk.” She said softly.

    Ariadne snorted and turned away to cover her mouth.

    “I saw that.” Joseph smirked.

    “No, you didn’t.”

    Joseph lifted the child back off his shoulder and stood close to Ariadne. “Hey… Want to hold them?”

    The child batted their wide eyes at Ariadne. They stuck their tongue out as if they were catching a snowflake.

    “Awe… You taught her to do that didn’t you.” Ariadne blushed. Ariadne took the child from him. After a moment the child tucked her head against Ariadne.

    “They learned to catch snowflakes with me, but I didn’t teach them that.”

    Ariadne took a deep breath, “Okay, fine. Let’s think of a name.”

    1. This is adorable.

      I have no idea how any of this works, but it’s adorable nonetheless.

      1. Makeshift Mousepad Avatar
        Makeshift Mousepad

        Thanks, this story is a follow up to the previous writing prompt:
        https://thetalefoundry.com/2021/02/01/writing-group-the-quiet-of-fresh-snow/#comment-14311

        The only thing I would do differently is making the whole nanobot situation a little clearer. And maybe I would make the environment a little clearer.

  3. Value of the Heart (Tales from Adfidem – Book of Boghos)
    By Alan Baker

    Then Boghos returned from exile to The Golden City and began teaching in the slums and outskirts. Great crowds gathered to hear him, but they knew not who he was. They asked one another, “who is this man that he speaks with such wisdom?” Boghos addressed the people around him:

    “If someone comes to you offering their heart, take it and share yours in return. In doing so, you will have gained a great treasure.
    But beware those who falsely share their hearts, for they seek to ensnare your good nature. To these offer your heart and follow their actions carefully. They will soon reveal their true nature.
    As it is said, ‘by his actions you will know the good man’ and as for others, the only way they might learn is through separation.
    Do not fuel sin by tolerating its presence.”

    It happened that Vahagn, a counsellor of the king, was passing through. He alone recognised Boghos having been in the service of the Bagrat dynasty for many years. Doubling his speed he hastened to the King to inform him of his brother’s return from exile.

    Hearing this, king Gohar sent soldiers to arrest Boghos. But arriving at the place where he taught, they did not act because they were afraid of people. Instead, they sought to turn them against him.

    “Tell us, teacher, if a king is the head of the nation and the people its limbs then what is its heart?”

    Boghos answered them:

    “The heart are those who keep the nation alive by providing truth to both leaders and those who are led. If the head goes astray it takes the body with it, so it must be directed to sanity. If the limbs are weak the body can’t protect itself and so it dies. Thus the heart must strengthen the limbs.”

    The king’s men retreated seeing that they held no sway before the crowd.

    1. Johnny Saguaroseed Avatar
      Johnny Saguaroseed

      This is a wonderful piece. I love formal style that gives it both the character of a holy book and strengthens the parable. (Is it a parable? I’m not sure, but I can’t think of the correct term). In any case, I think it’s completely successful, and works entirely within the character limit. The sentences are also very nicely composed, clear and effective. A pleasure to read. Thank you for sharing!

      1. Thank you for such a heartwarming response. It’s always nice to know, as a writer, that someone enjoyed you’re work.
        It’s not quite a parable. In a parable Boghos would tell a story with some deep meaning here he’s teaching the crowd through something like advice.

        1. Johnny Saguaroseed Avatar
          Johnny Saguaroseed

          Yeah I don’t think parable is the right term either. I think there’s a specific word for the technique he’s using but it’s completely escaping me.

  4. Chronicles of The Dragon: Sinners
    By Makokam

    “Cassandra?” The voice was confused and amazed. “You got out?”

    “Yes. After eighteen years we escaped.”

    “Eightee- Wait. ’We’?”

    Kat couldn’t help peaking around the corner at the vile nephilim. Revenge was about to be had.

    “Yes. We. Katerin!”

    She stepped around, pulling the clawed gauntlet firmly on to her arm.

    The nephilim looked at her, confused.

    “Don’t recognizer her?” her mother taunted. “I’m not surprised, but I did hope you’d recognize your own daughter.”

    What.

    The nephilim looked at her, and their expression turned from confused, to searching, to wonder, to…tears. “My baby…,” and she held out her arms.

    “Kill her.”

    What.

    Hope and joy swelled in the nephilim’s face. She felt acceptance and warmth wash over her.

    “Kill her!”

    She didn’t understand… Her enemy was… Welcoming her? … Her mother?

    KILL HER!

    The command rocked through her mind and she launched forward, stabbing the claws deep into the nephilim’s chest.

    The nephilim’s cry was choked. Tears filled her eyes and blood stained her lips. “I’m still just happy you’re alive.”

    “Sera?” a voice came from the hall outside.

    “Be ready!” Her mother said, “The real challenge is coming.”

    She didn’t know what was happening anymore.

    “Sera? SERA!”

    She jumped back as a man rushed in, catching the nephilim as she collapsed to the floor. “J- Jon… our daughter… she– she’s alive.”

    The man looked up at her, his face a raging torrent of emotions she couldn’t read. She backed away.

    The neph… her moth… the woman reached up and barely touched the man’s face. “Don’t-” she gasped and choked, “Don’t hurt….her. It wa- wasn’t her… fault,” and her arm fell limp.

    He looked up at her, rage and grief winning the emotional war. He looked past her and locked eyes on her mother.

    For one moment, the world was perfectly still and silent.

    The man moved faster than she could blink, lifting her mother by the neck, his eyes burning like molten flame.

    She felt a heat that somehow felt worse than hell.

    In that moment, she saw the monster she was told he was.

    1. Yup, that’s definitely a way to piss off Jon lol. The real challenge indeed. It’s almost one of those, provoking the bear moments where if you know anything about Jon at all, why in the blue Hell would you actively anger him like that? It was very touching that Sera was so happy that her daughter was alive that she wasn’t even angry that she was murdered by her.

      Though I will say that this story probably could have benefited from being told in first person. It’s so close to first person already and some of the pronouns tripped me up a little on who was doing what. Though I did get it on the second read.

      Well done though! Very powerful piece!

      1. I considered changing it a bit to be less confusing, but I made an artistic call thinking the confusion the reader might feel would only enhance the confusion Kat was feeling. I might change it if you or others think it needs it.

        As for why they “poked the bear” … Well, Cassandra knew John was the failure point. So they had to kill her first or they might not get either of them.
        She also mistakenly thought that Kat would be equal to him. Or close enough.

        Oh, and it’s been 18-ish years for them, but only two for Sera since she lost her baby, so the wound is still relatively fresh. That was one of the things I was struggling with. Had to really think about and decide on motivations. Character changes. etc.

        Happy you liked it though.

    2. Makeshift Mousepad Avatar
      Makeshift Mousepad

      The extremes of human emotion are on display. The daughter’s fear of the cult like ways that control her are so strong that she killed her own mother. The mother’s love was so strong that she used her dying breath to defend the daughter that killed her. And the father’s anger seemed to turn him into a creature only heard of in legend.

      I love seeing story’s that make use of very intense emotional highs and lows in very brief moments. Great work.

      Constructive criticism: It was unclear what a nephilim was. Was this a part of a larger story?

      1. Thanks you for reading!

        This is part of a larger story, but I actually chose “nephilim” to shorthand the backstory/context. It’s not technically accurate to the original biblical meaning, but in pop-culture it generally means a child of an angel/demon and a human, or a child of an angel AND a demon.

        The rest of it is kind of complicated, but I was trying for multiple instances of “your heart in my hand”, or variations on it.
        Obviously “mother’s love” is a big part of it, but there is more context to why even after she was stabbed she was still happy her daughter was alive. I don’t think that’s particularly important to this scene though, but I did give one hint to it in the story itself.

        Thanks again for reading! I’m glad you liked it.

  5. Your heart in my hands
    By OMS

    It rained as he went from the office out the city onto the field of sorrows. HIs clothes were hidden beneath a tattered and worn grey military issue greatcoat, on his head, a square topped shako and on his feet the dark brown boots of a cavalryman. As he walked, his mind cleared of thoughts of demobilization and paperwork as he approached a stone that he had visited each evening on his way home.

    Finally he stopped before the stone and sank to his knees. A carved face over a name and two dates greeted him. “Hi Xfali I hope you are well, wherever you are. I made mayor today.” He smiled, indicating his shako insignia. The smile did not reach his eyes. “I think they have something in store for me.”
    Again his face had a neutral expression, though his eyes still shone with emotion. “Yesterday Yssenia started reading goodnight stories for Cooper, I had gotten home earlier than planned and could hear them when I entered.” His eyes blanked. “You should have been there. She’s gotten really good lately. But of course you’d know that, if you were listening when I came here.” He smiled a bitter smile. He took a shaky breath calming himself, or at least that was the idea. “The elders aren’t happy, they say we are corrupting her with our ideas and way of life. Each time they start complaining too much I lay my hand on my pistol or saber and they shut up.” He said, a bitter laugh escaping him. “So much for being a hero.” Sadness again reached his green eyes. They then grew distant as if gazing at something far away. “You always seem to ask the same question… When will I take it back? But it lies in your hands, though they do not seem to clutch it tight, still, it feels like it… I don’t know when I’ll return for it or if ever I will” He rose, eyes lingering on the empty grave once more and without ceremony, turned homewards. As he did she smiled.

  6. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
    i-prefer-the-term-antihero

    [Removed]

    1. This was a strange one, but no less beautiful than your others. I honestly thought this might be Frankenstien’s monster continuing the doctor’s work, to justify his own existence and make a better version of himself. To prove his creators ambition wasn’t folly.

      The telekinesis was unexpected, even among all the rest.

      Is this the same (sort of) world as the one you made the Peter Pan reference in? And the It Was And Accident story?

    2. Johnny Saguaroseed Avatar
      Johnny Saguaroseed

      Hi Antihero, I love this wonderful piece. I think you’ve very successfully realized the the voice of your character here and conveyed their passion and perspective. Your language as always is beautiful and compelling. My favorite lines here: “like a frog I’d caught in a pond; slimy and gross, yes, but also small and precious, and altogether hard to hold onto,” “giving the heart to the cavity like giving the ocean back a fish,” “at least I’d be doing something good.” This is really successful.

      A minor (minor!) criticism:

      “I asked the heart to dance, the feeling against my skin—(I’d forgone gloves. I didn’t want to dilute this. This part. The heart.)—like hot chocolate on the coldest day, comfort spilling from my fingertips to my insides.”

      I don’t think I’ve ever seen parenthesis enclosed in em-dashes before. I don’t think it’s technically a grammatical mistake, though it might be. It works for me though, as it gives the aside a lot of emphasis, which I think is appropriate. (I love the gloveless detail by the way. Super effective.) However, the placement between “skin” and “like” reads jarringly to me. “Like” is telling us that the skin has something of the quality of hot cholate, but with the aside inserted “Like” has to stretch across 13 words, three sentences, and a handful of punctuation. It feels like its straining against the boundaries of its reach.

      Alternatives might be to move the aside into prepositional phrase, though then you end up with a period, parenthesis, em-dash, and comma all in a row:

      “I asked the heart to dance—(I’d forgone gloves. I didn’t want to dilute this. This part. The heart.)—, the feeling against my skin like hot chocolate on the coldest day, comfort spilling from my fingertips to my insides.”

      Sadly, because I like the effect of the phrase as an aside, it probably works better as its own sentence:

      “I asked the heart to dance, the feeling against my skin like hot chocolate on the coldest day, comfort spilling from my fingertips to my insides. I’d forgone gloves. I didn’t want to dilute this. This part.”

      Something like that maybe.

      In any case this is just some observations on a minor road bump I felt when reading. Really this is a wonderful piece and a very successful one. I really enjoy your work and look forward to your submissions. Thank you so much for sharing.

  7. LumiKat117 Avatar
    LumiKat117

    Necklace of Hope
    by LumiKat117

    In an echo of what must be true irony, Jacob stands before the wooden platform that promised to be the end of his life with a solemn expression. It had only been 3 years since he had been on the other side of this scenario, guarding the pirates about to be hung to death.

    Now it was his turn to be dangling from the noose.

    He could only hope that his fellows had escaped, having not seen them in the prison where he’d been kept. More importantly, he wished against all hope that his Captain had chosen to abandon him to his fate. He could never forgive himself if Captain Runihura was captured once more, this time with no easily won over guard to take advantage of.

    Of course their love was a genuine affair, full of passion and danger as the former guard was taught the cruel but exhilarating lifestyle of a pirate.

    His own hands certainly weren’t as clean as they’d been the day that he took his beloved Captain’s soot and bloodstained hand on the docks, joining him on the seven seas as his hometown burned to ash behind him. Jacob didn’t bother to pretend like he was a Saint, fully embracing his new life so as to be there to protect his Captain.

    Which he supposed was how he’d got into this mess. They’d been restocking supplies in a port town when Jacob had spotted the Navy’s approach. He had only moments to act before they would be surrounded.

    Without thinking, he tore off his gold necklace, a gift from Runihura, and pressed it into a stunned Captain’s hand, kissing him deeply before telling him to take the crew and run. Before his lover could protest, he was already moving.

    He fired his gun at the Navy, taking down one of them as he ran, forcing their attention on him as he fled. It hadn’t been much of a chase.

    As he felt the rough rope of the noose be tightened around his neck, he closed his eyes, accepting his fate.

    Then he heard a gunshot.

    1. I quite like it, it was a pleasant read and had a good nice and steady flow. The last sentence set a spark of excitement through me. However the love story is confusing the first time through, as the characters of the guard, Captain and Runihura meld together, if this is intentional then bravo. On rereads it becomes clear that Jacob is the former guard, the captain is the lover and that Runihura is the ship. Although i think that “he tore off his gold necklace, a gift from Runihura,” would make more sense if it referred to the captain and not the ship.

      1. LumiKat117 Avatar
        LumiKat117

        Thank you! But actually the Captain’s name is Runihura 😂 I was trying to tie it in as a symbolic way of him handing his heart to the Captain. I suppose I should probably fix that somehow then if that’s not clear.

        -Lumi

  8. A Touch of the Heart.
    By: AdaraTheShallot

    Everyone’s hearts are pierced by any long sharp object. Be that a knife, arrow, sword, or staff. Because everyone suffers the most with themselves. If you move your piercer, you bleed until you yourself stop moving it or you faint. Eventually, the blood will get replenished and the vicious cycle will repeat. The piercer comes to a person when they experience their first moment of self-deprecation and hatred. The reason why each individual moves their piercer is because every person believes deep down that everybody is allowed to fail, make mistakes and overall be imperfect. Everyone, but yourself. it’s a mutual belief that it’s futile to get rid of yours or anyone else’s. Self-hate is unavoidable. Inescapable. we all wear masks as well; to hide our shame and to create the social illusion that we are all normal. That’s how it always was. that’s how it always will be … Or so I thought.
    Once upon a time, I met a woman that had no piercer and wore no mask. I hated and envied her In silence. Until it consumed me and burst out. I filled her with Loathing and spiteful words. But instead of coming back at me with even more hostility, She instead answered me with a blunt sort of kindness. As if understanding my hate but not tolerating it. She sat me down and explain to me why she was able to move her piercer. she told me that we can’t choose to never suffer but we can choose to work on bettering ourselves so that we can suffer less. She told me that it’s not easy, has why our world is what it is today. But it is possible you just have to find your inner strength.
    that day that she talked to me, the arrow that was crushing my heart somehow felt a little bit lighter. It’s been a long journey and I’m still working on myself But that one act of kindness completely changed the world to me.

    1. Wonderful message and great concept, had to reread the explanation of the piercer but that might just be because i’m tired. My only real critique is on the occasional missing punctuation and big letters after it. Sometimes you forget the punctuation but start the next word with a big letter and sometimes its the other way around. I found seven different instances of this. Once you also forget to inflect the word correctly. And this sentence “She told me that it’s not easy, has why our world is what it is today.” gets its message across but the has confuses me.

  9. T.C. Holmes Avatar
    T.C. Holmes

    Wrong decisions…
    By: T.C.Holmes

    The child was dying. Sindra knew that just by looking at her. The shallow breathing, the pale skin, the sweating, and the shaking, this child wouldn’t make it through the night. When her father pulled back the covers and showed the wound to Sindra it only confirmed her suspicions further.
    The girl couldn’t be more than 9 years old, and an inch deep into her chest was a foot long slash mark that ran the length of it. The wound was blackened, rotting, filled with poison, but the worst kind of poison, the kind only truly evil creatures produced, the kind that made the world more like them. When she bent to look closer she could see the girls heart beating in her chest, her lungs expanding and contracting rapidly in time with her breathing. If this girl died like this she wasn’t going to stay dead. “This kind of rot”, she said aloud,”only results in bad things.”
    She turned to the father,”You said it never bled?”
    “No, it never shed so much as a drop”, he responded his expression growing even more worried somehow.
    Sindra cursed slightly under her breath, and after a long moment she spoke,”Understand something farmer”, she said reaching down and pulling a dagger from her belt,”I don’t do this lightly.”
    She whirled on the girl dagger held high hearing the shout from her father as he reached out to stop Sindra. Too late, as Sindra plunged the dagger down and into her own hand, her blood pouring over the wound of the young waifish girl, binding it shut as her breathing began to grow deeper and more stable. “If she begins to manifest powers I will know, and I will return”, said Sindra as she strode toward the door and out into the night.

    1. very nice! i like the imagry you used to describe the wound. I’m kind of curious at how she got it and more about whats going on however XD I feel really bad for that dad having his daughter killed without any permission or anything TuT overall, jolly good (yet sad) show :’v

      1. T.C. Holmes Avatar
        T.C. Holmes

        She didn’t die. Sindra closed the girls wound.

  10. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “Love Falls in Autumn”

    By Arith_Winterfell

    The cool winds of autumn blew through the trees pulling out leaves one by one scattering them to the ground. I had loved her, but she no longer loved me. A simple and common enough tale. This one though, this one was mine. When Jenny and I first kissed it was both awkward, but also electric, racing hearts with an ache for more passion.

    “It isn’t you. It’s me,” she said her back turned to me, not wanting to look me in the eyes. Of course, it was me who wasn’t what she wanted anymore.

    “Please,” I begged, “don’t walk away from all we have built, all we have loved.”

    “I can’t, Mathew.” She looked at me over her shoulder. “I can’t stay anymore.” Her arms were crossed, a closed off gesture. Nothing I was going to say was going to matter, but I’d try anyway.

    “Look,” I said, “we’ve been through so much in our lives together. Whatever it is, we can overcome this too. If you just stay –”

    “No,” she said with sharp emphasis. “I can imagine how you feel, but I can’t stay. I need to be free from us.”

    “If its freedom and time you need, you know I’d let you go to have your space. I love you enough to let you go for a time.”

    “You are not letting me go!” she said angrily, “I’m not giving you that choice!”

    I recoiled as if burnt by fire. I sighed. She had turned away from me again. Without any further words, I sat in silence as she quietly gathered her things and left the room. I could hear the front door shut and turned slightly to look out the front window. I could see her there taking a deep breath of fresh air, and then smiling to herself she stretched her arms to release tension. She was smiling, I could tell, at her new found freedom. As she walked away, I look now at the falling leaves fluttering in the wind.

    1. damn son! not even one single reason why she’s leaving? matthew must of been an awful boyfriend for you to have mention the word freedom so much. my wild guess is that this was a bit of an abusive relation but that’s just guessing blind. but yeah, short, simple and nice. i lived it. keep it up! :3

    2. LumiKat117 Avatar
      LumiKat117

      This is a very touching and relatable story. Many people have been in a situation like this and you can feel sympathy for both of the characters because she clearly had felt trapped in the relationship and he was simply oblivious to her pain. I like how your writing makes you initially feel sympathy for the narrator but towards the end you realize that she was doing this for her own health and you just understand. Very well done.

      -Lumi

    3. Makeshift Mousepad Avatar
      Makeshift Mousepad

      Ah yes, a story that many know all too well. Was Mathew the one at fault? Was it the girl he loved? The reader and Mathew will never get to know.

      Silence is a painful thing. When it matters the most to understand one another, people tend to prefer to shut out the people close to them.

      It has been an unfortunate walk down memory lane but I enjoyed it none the less.

  11. RVMPLSTLSKN Avatar
    RVMPLSTLSKN

    Of Hearts and Hands
    By RVMPLSTLSKN (Saga of The Deep One’s Wake)(Repost from Private)

    There are fewer animals less suited to eating than dogs. For Vienas, the reason is simple: dogs eat vermin and carry diseases; this is known. Yet she did not complain. She knew Padas had been too poor to indulge in the luxury of killing useful animals. He relished meat the way she had once relished prayer-spelling. The dog meat was a break in the monotony of tastes, however taboo.

    ‘Still,’ she thought, ‘waste not.’

    They sat next to the Everflame, Padas staring into the light while Vienas stared into the void. She was pensive and chewed the heart-meat he had given her. She was worried by a feeling of familiarity. A soft cut, he had said.

    As Ziniu’s high priestess—high scribe and scholar really—she had been heir to certain gifts of that office. She knew the games of godhood from tedious study. She knew the intuition she had received, before The Deep One rose, had not been herself. It had been part of the office and had gone away when The Deep One called. That was why she had hidden. She was more afraid of that loss than of The Deep One itself.

    But it came back. An impossibility in degrees. She had felt it return as she gripped Karas’s sword. She felt the whisper of awareness not quite her own. The spatial knowledge and desire to protect her books. To live.

    How; it was the only question worthy of asking.

    But she knew the games of godhood, so her mind turned to the pearls and rang with a dead god’s message. “…for you, the Living.”

    A prayer and reminder to keep living.

    She leaned into Padas and breathed deep. She relaxed, the anxiety of the day leaving her muscles. Rather than a matter of passions or carnal necessity, perhaps this could be a matter of convenience. For both of them.

    “Do you think others survived?” she asked

    He grunts something indecisive.

    She smiles, remembering the pearls and suddenly feeling very glad he was who he was.

    “What?”

    In response, she kissed him and felt his arms fold around her.

    1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      This story is interesting in relation to the prompt, because its ending involves what would normally be romantic interaction, doesn’t seem to actually involve emotional involvement (the essence of the metaphorical “heart”) as the high priestess describes the romantic engagement as “a matter of convenience” for both characters. Giving the impression there is no love, just what the high priestess needs regarding her connection to her god. So I find the story curious in that regard.

      1. RVMPLSTLSKN Avatar
        RVMPLSTLSKN

        Truth is this is a budding—and very slow burn—romance. These two are a play on the “sole survivor” archetype and I wanted to avoid the YIKES of “it’s just the two of us…”

        1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
          Arith_Winterfell

          Ah, I see. And I couldn’t see the longer elements due to the word limit stuff. I get you 😀

          1. RVMPLSTLSKN Avatar
            RVMPLSTLSKN

            I’ve been using these two characters for a couple months now. You can always go back and read more if you’re interested in more of their interactions. This is the third piece in a sequence that started in Map to Nowhere and continued in The City of Dust.

  12. Danny Gilhooley Avatar
    Danny Gilhooley

    Preventative Maintenance
    By Danny Gilhooley

    Carl thought the maintenance wing of the hospital would be louder. The walls were a sterile white color. The hallway extended down to the point where it was difficult to see where it ended. Simply shuffling his feet was enough to cause an echo.

    Mary sat next to him. He still struggled to think that the shell of carbon fiber and circuits was her. Had she not done the procedure, she would’ve been fifty-seven years old. Now, she was ageless. For hours, the two of them sat there. Carl fidgeted his feet. Mary sat motionless like a trophy.

    Carl remembered Violet’s face when Mary first got home from the procedure. It was like an intruder walked in the house.

    “You’re not my mom,” Violet had said.

    “I am, sweetheart,” Mary had said back. “I’m still myself. I remember what I made you for breakfast this morning. I remember your first soccer game and your first goal.”

    After her accident, Violet seemed even more afraid of her.

    “Mom, I don’t want to get it!”

    “But the doctor said you’ll never walk again.”

    “I don’t care! I don’t want to get it!”

    “Oh honey, it’s painless! They put you to sleep and after, you wake up so refreshed and beautiful! The technicians do such a great job!”

    Carl remembered feeling more responsible for Violet then. So long as he was in the room with Mary, Violet was calm.

    To not trust your own mother, Carl thought. He shuddered.

    And it wasn’t until one day he left her alone with Mary that he heard her condition got worse. That they brought her here.

    The door opened. It sounded like an earthquake. Carl jumped up. Mary gently stood and rotated.

    A technician walked out. A smaller robot followed him.

    “How do you feel, sweetheart?” Mary asked.

    “I feel great! You were right, the technicians do such a great job!” The robot turned to the technician and curtsied.

    “How do I look daddy?” the robot asked.

    The robot smiled. Carl forced one back.

    ‘You’re not my daughter,’ he thought.

    1. Such a great story, with so much at stake and so many feelings involved. The process of replacing loved ones with robotic copies that may or may not be them is super eerie and thought provoking. The untrustworthy mother as well is a strong image.

      You created loads of tension by starting in the hospital room and then gradually building up the scene with flashbacks and thoughts, bravo. Although I wonder why Carl allowed Mary to take Violet through the process in the first place? Especially as he seems a bit suspicious of Mary himself. Perhaps you could’ve shown how she went behind his back, or how he gradually changed his mind about the procedure?

      Thanks for sharing this awesome story with us all!

      1. Danny Gilhooley Avatar
        Danny Gilhooley

        Hi, thank you for reading!

        I really like the ideas you gave for elaborating on how Mary took Violet through the process. They’re definitely worth exploring for sure. It’s stories like this where I wish there wasn’t a word limit…

    2. LumiKat117 Avatar
      LumiKat117

      Oooo I love this. It’s very subtly dark, something that you’d miss on the surface until you begin to start thinking about what it could actually mean when they receive the “Procedure”. It leaves you speculating just how much is the original and how much is the robotic body, wondering about what exactly do they do to the originals to place them in these synthetic bodies. I love it. Very well done.

      -Lumi

      1. Danny Gilhooley Avatar
        Danny Gilhooley

        Thank you so much!

    3. This is honestly sinister and I can’t believe that wasn’t 100% your intention.
      Why couldn’t they just fix her legs, or her spine? Why did her condition get “worse” when left alone with Mary? How old was Violet? Is she just going to be…a child forever?
      What did Carl think of his wife when she came back, and the years(?) since?

      At best I can imagine they put their brain into a synthetic body…but the daughters change in attitude just says that…no. There is something else to this. And Violet may have been, and Carl may be, very right.

      1. Danny Gilhooley Avatar
        Danny Gilhooley

        Thank you for reading! I always thought the best way to induce suspense was to make the reader do the work, and I hope I was able to accomplish that.

        I hope you enjoyed it!

  13. Your Heart in My Hands
    By Chengir

    Under siege for over a year, the city defenders had torn up every stick of furniture inside the walls to make arrows to fire at the hideous creatures investing the walls. Flames had licked the roofs clean of every house from the palace on downwards. Now the city looked more like the skeleton of an urban area than a place once freely inhabited by so many.

    The Dark Lord sat on his onyx throne beneath his grandiose tent outside the siegeworks. His long black hair flowed over his dark robes and blew back behind him… even though not a lick of breeze moved the stale air still fresh with death upon it. The thin wisps of his braided beard ran down his chest. His gaunt face was a terror to behold. The Dark Lord’s cheekbones practically poked through his shallow flesh. His eyes were sunken far into his head and his face was locked in a persistent grimace. The kind of look that sent a cold chill down a warrior’s spine.

    His voice was grating. “What have you heard of the duke?”

    The lord’s councilors and sycophants trembled. “Blessed demons, oh Dark One, no word about him has reached us since the walls were breached. But we have captured his wife.”

    “Bring her to me,” he demanded with evil glee.

    The duke’s wife was a slender and attractive thing, with long flowing hair. Her multicolored robes were tied tightly about her exquisite form. The woman’s face was angular, a paradigm of royal grace and beauty.

    “Where is the Duke?” the Dark One demanded in a tone that thundered across the room.

    She stood quietly facing a creature even brave men trembled before. “I know not my lord. I can only offer you the city which lays prostrate at your feet. As for me, my heart is in your hands.”

    She spoke a common saying of submission; one the Dark Lord was only too familiar with. “No,” he replied, “It isn’t. But it will be… soon.”

    1. Samurai Jackson Avatar
      Samurai Jackson

      I’m not good with reviews or any kind of deep analysis, just making this clear. I really like the story, the end scene with the Dark Lord is so similar to a scene that I did in a D&D campaign a few years ago, I just love it. Great work mate, I really had fun reading this.

    2. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I really enjoyed this piece, especially the descriptive nature of it. While classically evil, you don’t just tell us that, you go into the details of his form and face to generate a sense of rising drama before getting to the climax of the capture of the Duke’s wife. I also really liked the way you twisted the meaning of “my heart in your hands” to be something that goes from common “turn of phrase” to something much darker at the story’s closing. The only thing I can think of that might have improved the story is just a touch more detail on what drives the Dark Lord to be doing all of this in the first place. That would add a bit more depth to the Dark Lord and make the piece even more interesting.

  14. EggOnToast Avatar
    EggOnToast

    Clockwork Birds
    By EggOnToast

    Diana’s footsteps echo through the hall, but they could never mellow out the sounds of the bell tower. She made her way to the east wing and down a spirl staircase to cubicle of a library. Clicking in place one of the books and sliding through the secret door, she found herself in her mentor’s laboratory.

    As she fully entered, she glared at the mass of scattered pages she would likely be unstructured to organize. Completely ignoring the unfinished machinery, she signed, noticing mice scurrying about the room and masses of dust clouds floated through the room. Finally at the back of room, she found her mentor, Frederick Merrill, sloutched over at his desk tinkering another one of his machines.

    “Sir, the Bastille has arrived.” Diana voiced in a melancholy robotic tone.

    Ragged haired man jolted at the sound of his company. Still clutching the stranged trinket, he snapped his head to sound with a pale striken shock, but his shock quickly subsided to relief.

    “Hello to you to Diana.” He chuckled trying to tuck away his small project.

    “What are you hiding, sir?”

    “Me? Oh. Well I suppose I have been caught haven’t I.”

    Shaking his head in defeat, he reveal the source of his secretary. Diana didn’t understand why would hide this. It was a brass clockwork bird with two sapphires for eyes and a winder on its back. Merrill noticed Diana’s puzzled expression.

    “I noticed how you would look at the birds in the window of the Puis; I thought I’d give you one of your own. I now it isn’t much, but I hope you like it.” Handing the bird to Diana, he gave a small smile. “Who did you say was here?”

    “The Bastille.” Daina answered as she winded up the bird.

    With in a moment’s notice, he was gone, and Diana was left alone with the bird. Once she finished winding up the brass songbird, it came alive. As it jumped and fluttered around her, she did something she had never done before; she smiled.

  15. VeryBoringName Avatar
    VeryBoringName

    Shy
    By: VeryBoringName

    It was a normal night, a club, some DJ playing some techno music with bass boosted more than necessary, I was not expecting anything except the usual, drunkenness, and passing out in the cab. I think you can understand why I was not that concerned when a stunning girl came near me, I just sorta accepted that drunk people talk to strangers.

    To my surprise, she was not drunk, but you know, the drunks are the most straightforward people, and she was straightforward as a drunk.

    “You look cute”

    She timidly said and then blushed, like a high schooler who just confessed love to a crush, except we were perfect strangers, I felt weirded out.

    “Thanks, I guess”

    I responded awkwardly, I’ve known nothing of that girl, except that she looked good, if I didn’t know better then the only other thing I could say is that she seemed glowing, in the literal sense, I chalked it up to some light.

    “I-I sorry, I didn’t mean to”

    She responded timidly, I felt kinda sorry for her, and, she looked good, so I didn’t mind getting to know her.

    “Hey, don’t worry, let’s start over, maybe let’s buy some snacks, you know, the stomach is the best way to a guy’s heart”

    She brightened up, and tilted her head to the side playfully.

    “Really?”

    “Yeah”

    This came as a surprise to me, but before I knew it, I felt pain in my stomach area, looking down her hand was jutting out of it, I had no idea how she had so much strength. I wanted to cry out for help, confused, frightened, and in pain, before I could, do so, I felt pain in my chest, and then saw as she was showing me something red, with both hands

    “You weren’t kidding, it’s really the best way!”

    Nobody saw, I had no idea how, but I guess it explained itself, I mean, you know, because we’re in hell and all that, I dunno if there’s any moral, don’t trust demons, they’ll tear your heart out? Eh, lame moral

    1. EggOnToast Avatar
      EggOnToast

      Okay, I was not expecting that twist! This was a good take on the prompt. After first I thought it was going to be a cute then twisted into horror in a single moment. I liked the foreshadowing as well. You did a great job, however, you did forget some punctuation at the end of some sentences your sentences, but other than that this was a great story and a great take of the prompt.

    2. Samurai Jackson Avatar
      Samurai Jackson

      I really enjoyed that the story had that horror twist at the end, It’s well constructed within the narrative, because you feel there is something wrong, and something is about to happen, you just don’t get a grasp on what, I really liked it. I just liked the fatality at the end too, good stuff.

  16. Samurai Jackson Avatar
    Samurai Jackson

    Before you judge me, know that english is not my native language, and I don’t have enough knowledge to write anything in this foreign language, so I’m just doing this for fun and learning experience.
    PLUS; I’m really liking the stories that the people in here are writing, I can’t write well in english, but I can read well, everyone here is very talented.

    Talking To An Old Friend
    By Samurai Jackson

    I’m heading towards the school, I did this path so many times that I could walk with my eyes closed, I feel good in this path, I feel safe. Stormy clouds take over the sky, It should be bright with sunlight at this hour of the day, but It’s dark like if the night had gained a few more hours.

    I hear a familiar voice coming from behind me.

    “Hey old friend, how’re you doing?” says the voice.

    I answered that I was not doing well. That life each day seemed more harsh, sad and lonely, that it doesn’t matter what I do, things just don’t work out, that I don’t have the strength to keep going, and I was thinking on giving up, and go to the place he is, this way I wouldn’t be lonely, wouldn’t suffer anymore.

    “You’re not alone, I’m always there to back you up” He puts one of his hands over my chest “I’m always with you old friend.”

    This person in front of me saved my life once, a long time ago, from that time onwards he became my best friend, a source of strength, even when everything was bad he was there for me, and even with the distance that exist between us at this moment, he still is all that to me.

    “Life is worth living, sometimes It can be hard, but there are a lot of good moments too, that validates every bad happening.” He hugs me “One day you will reach those good moments, so keep being strong, keep living old friend.”

    I wake up…

    “Thank you old friend, you saved me again.”

    1. EggOnToast Avatar
      EggOnToast

      Dude, you’re English is great! This was an amazing story and a great take on the prompt. Good job! I liked your use of tone in this story. It was that of great sadness then turned uplifting. I liked it very much. Your use of weather in the beginning was a good use of tone as well. The story all around felt like comfort in place of sorrow. Like I said this was a great that on the prompt!

      1. Samurai Jackson Avatar
        Samurai Jackson

        Thank you! This is actually a different take of a bigger project that I’m working, the only big difference is that the big project is more dialogue focused.
        But again, glad you liked it. This is actually the first time that I write publicly, I never posted any of my writings before.
        I still don’t feel confident writing in english, but definitely was good for training.

  17. Johnny Saguaroseed Avatar
    Johnny Saguaroseed

    Valentine’s Plunder
    by Johnny Saguaroseed

    A bang from the cargo bay doors brought AulusAtiliusCalatinus-AWDD0890128625\\1A1998YM3B-9’s awareness to attention. It scanned the room: abandoned and dusty and decrepit as it had been for the past—AulusAtiliusCalatinus consulted its interior chronometer—one hundred to ten hundred thousand years. That couldn’t be right. Allied Weapons Development and Distribution guaranteed all its product’s systems were precise and infallible. AulusAtiliusCalatinus attempted to run diagnostics only to discover they were compromised as well.

    The doors shuttered open, metal grinding horribly, and three humanoids entered. Their garb was extravagant: plumed hats, long coats, and brightly colored sashes. AulusAtiliusCalatinus’s database identified the intruders’ outfits as appropriating 17th century piratical.

    “D’you think this is it, Captain Valentine?”

    “Aye. This be Magistrate Zyxxz’s cruiser for true. Soon the Heart of the Universe will be mine.”

    AulusAtiliusCalatinus’s database recognized the leader as female, though her precise genetic makeup was unfamiliar. It attempted to stand but found its mechanical systems weren’t responding. By testing its appendages one by one it discovered that it still had control of its weapons. It diverted power to its turrets and aimed them at the captain’s heart.

    “Hoy!” yelled one of the pirates. “Yon AAC unit be operational!” AulusAtiliusCalatinus fired. Nothing happened. The pirate captain approached with curiosity and AulusAtiliusCalatinus noticed how well structured and symmetrical her features were.

    “An old AAC unit. Why Zyxxz, you salty dog.” Captain Valentine turned back to her crew. “Zyxxz’s wired up this robut’s central power control to a safebox. Got it tight as a rum barrel’s bung. Pop that safe and the whole ship’ll blow sky high. I’d wager all the gold in the starry seas that’s where he hid th’ Heart of the Universe.”

    She began picking at the exposed wiring that entangled a metal chest at its feet. “Don’t worry me lads, ain’t no booby trap ever got one over on Victoria Valentine!” And as she plunged her hands into its central power control, AulusAtiliusCalatinus, turrets still trained, noticed the passion of her concentration, the confidence of her grin, the arch of her eyebrow, the tint of her complexion, the bright gleam of her eye.

    1. This is a very cool take on the prompt. I read it as the heart in your hands can be found twice here, once as the AAC aims at Valentine’s heart and once more when she plunges her hands into the robots power control. The setting is intriguing as well and supplies us with many interesting questions to ponder. What caused the ship to be abandoned in the first place, and what is this heart of the universe. I’d also like to draw attention to the way the pirates talk, it’s awesome! Good job.

      Now, I would’ve like some minor implication early on regarding the general look and shape of the AAC. It’s harder to imagine I think when you don’t know whether it’s a humanoid robot, an R2D2ish being, or something else entirely. I don’t think I quite understand the ending description of Valentine either, did the AAC fall in love with Valentine? Also, how does a door shutter open?

      Thank you for sharing this cool space story with us. Best of luck!

  18. A. Persson’s Plight
    By T.E.

    The setting is a sterile room, devoid of furniture. A blank canvas, if you will. Enter here with me, dear Reader, and witness the birth and demise of poor Mr. A. Persson.

    Upon the white-tiled floor lies a dry body. Shriveled and lifeless, mummified. Here we make our entrance. In our cupped hands, a beating heart gleaming with the gift of life. Its warmth fends of the relentless cold from our bare digits. “Whose heart is it we’re carrying,” you might ask. To which I’d reply “It might’ve been yours, it might’ve been mine.”

    We kneel beside the mummified A. He’s lived and will do so again. Indeed he is revived, when we place the beating gem of life in his empty chest cavity.

    Limbs inflate and luster emerges. Blue eyes clouded by fear stare into ours. What do they see, dear Reader? They see you. With a massive inhale and shaky limbs, A. scrambles to his feet. “What have you done to me? Please, just let me rest!”

    Poor A. Persson blames dear Reader, for I am nowhere to be seen. Two lost souls in a blank void. An eternity passes by so much faster in decent company, wouldn’t you agree? We can furnish this room however we see fit, but our host may never leave his special place.

    A. Persson is not much comforted by dear Reader’s feeble explanation of events. Someone must know what’s going on, he assumes. All the while my voice echoes in Reader’s mind. “End him,” I say. “We must move on, there’s more to see and other lives to live and end.”

    Reader is a curious one, compassionate and kind, yet often passive. How easy it is to give life, how difficult to take it. Time passes, an indeterminate amount. But poor A. has little more to give, and Reader grows bored. A heart is ripped from a chest. We leave A.’s body once more in torpor.

    We move on, dear Reader and I, towards new adventures. While A. Persson awaits his next visitor.

    1. This one is very interesting! I like the concept of narrators being more involved in the story than it first seems (used that trick myself once or twice) 😉 I’ve never seen it with a reader or more percise a dear reader before though. And I can’t help but wonder if A. Persson (is that a wordplay on A person?) is a metaphor for something……Well done! I will certainly have to think about this for a while

      1. Thank you for the kind words. It’s always interesting to play around with concepts like these, and I find the short form of flash works exceedingly well for it. Interesting that I tried something you haven’t seen before, did you think it worked? (And yes I went for the most obvious name pun there could be, haha).

    2. PixieWings Avatar
      PixieWings

      Ahhhhhh, clever! I love it. I dunno if this is what you were going for in writing it, but I got the sense our narrator is a sort of universal narrator. Like the meta of this story is that all stories end eventually, and the narrator-the voice in our head that reads the story-and the reader-being us-will move on when the story is over. But the story itself-A. Persson-ends until another reader with their own narrator picks it up. Super fun read T.E. ^^

      1. I’m so glad you liked it! Of course the meaning of any story is in the eye of the (dear) Reader, and any interpretation is as good as any other. Still, you’ve interpreted it almost exactly as I did myself while writing it. It’s very fun to see my own thought process glean through the text.

        I’m very glad that you enjoyed this little thought experiment.

  19. An Infinity of Distance (Forsaken Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    The name over her door read ‘Jackie’, though that was untrue. Her real name was unpronounceable by anyone, who didn’t have satari vocal chords. She hadn’t heard it spoken in a long while. Outside a recorded message, that is.

    She was sitting on the floor, her legs spread out in front of her. Her long dirty blonde hair was messy and unkempt, her golden eyes rimmed with red, along with the yellow gemstone-like feature on her forehead. She’d spent the past hour crying. In front of her, on a screen, a message was playing.

    It showed her parents, her brothers and, most notably, her girlfriend, who was beaming at her through the screen. Pride shone through their eyes. After being rejected by every science academy she had applied to, Jackie had finally been accepted to the fleet academy on Earth. This message was a good-bye gift from her family. They had been so proud of her, when she’d disembarked for Earth.

    Then, in her second year as cadet, she had been assigned to the Fugere. An incident in subspace had left the ship severely crippled and flung it into an unknown region of space. This message was all that connected her to her loved ones.

    That and the necklace.

    It was customary on her home planet Auru to give the one you loved most such a necklace, when they left for a long journey. Jackie had given her girlfriend an identical copy. She’d said the gemstone on it represented her heart.

    Now, Jackie looked down at hers. The violent impact the Fugere had endured had shattered the gem irreparably. A scar was traced along her neck, where the splinters had cut her.

    “I’m sorry,” she whispered, holding a hand to her mouth. “I broke your heart.”

    There was a knock on the door. Jackie jumped up.

    “Just a second,” she called and moved to a mirror.

    She concentrated. Her eyes began to glow, as the red and tears vanished behind a veil of illusion. Then she straightened up, took a deep breath, turned off the recording and opened the door.

    1. Oh no! Poor Jackie. Poor girlfriend! I see what you mean by star-crossed lovers now, and how this sort of accidentally fit XD. It *is* indeed a sad story and the heartbreak is quite literally as well…. I quite enjoyed this story. Give Jackie a big hug for me kay? She sounds like she needs one. 😉

      1. Thank you for your review! Yeah, I had totally forgotten about Valentine’s Day, when I wrote this. The thematic link was a happy accident. I’m glad you enjoyed. (Knowing me, it may be a while, before Jackie will start accepting hugs.)

    2. PixieWings Avatar
      PixieWings

      This was a lovely read, Spectre! I think you hit on some great emotion in the second half that pays off a lot of the slow set up in the first. That “I broke your heart” line really just punched me in the face in the best possible way.

      If I may offer one piece of constructive criticism, I’d almost say to lean on that line a bit more. You have the line “She’s said the gemstone on it represented her heart.” but I dunno if you need it. In the first half how important her family and her girlfriend are to Jackie, and how broken she feels without them. I think you lead the reader to the point your trying to make without needing the extra line.

      Definitely just a minor suggestion though. Feel free to take or leave in the future, because this was wonderful. ^^

      1. Thank you! I’m glad the emotion was carried over effectively. I did debate on whether I should include a line about the gem on the necklace, but I decided for it, because I wasn’t sure if the reader would make that connection, if I left it out. But reading your reply, it seems like you did.

  20. Alex Lewis Avatar
    Alex Lewis

    Holding On
    By Broken Earth

    “Over here!” Jules shouted. I turned, trying to shine my flashlight onto it, but it ran farther down the hall. Farther into its lair.

    “Did you see it?” I asked.

    “Not clearly.” Jules said, slightly calmer now. “But it had sort of the shape of a rat, except massive. At least three and a half feet long.”

    “Do you think that’s the monster?”

    Jules nodded. “No doubt about it. Let’s get going.”

    The two of us walked on high alert. Every shifting floorboard, every bug flying past our flashlight caused us to jump just a little.

    We checked every room on the way, to no avail. Some were empty, others had furniture, and some had bones of small animals like squirrels. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, and we marched on.

    At the end of the hallway was a stairwell heading up to the second floor, and down into the basement.

    The basement was the obvious choice.

    I handed Jules the flashlight and pulled my gun from the holster on my ankle, and began the decent. The basement was, fortunately enough, much smaller than the first floor, with four rooms and a hallway connecting them.

    As if to make up for this, the bones littering the floor were much bigger. Cats. Eagles. Humans.

    I took a step forward, and suddenly I was thrown to the side by an unseen force, my gun knocked out of my hands. The monster pinned me to the ground and roared, its breath reeking of the corpses it lived among.

    BANG.

    The monster went limp. Jules stood behind it, gun raised, and let out a sigh.

    “Thanks.” I said. I shoved the monster off of me, and in doing so heard a chain rattling. I waved Jules over, and we finally got a good look at the monster.

    It was a massive, dull green rat-like creature with half as much tail as it should’ve had, and arms that looked way out of proportion. Light glinted off of something tied around the monster’s neck.

    A small, gold, heart-shaped locket, holding a picture of a family.

    1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      This was a cool little horror-adventure story moment here – you built up the tension veyr well throughout, with a described glimpse of the monster, the escalation in threat implied by the growing size of the bones in the house, and of course the classic descent into the basement to confront the monster themselves. The atmosphere was good in general – my fave line was the ‘bugs flying past our flashlight’ for that.

      And the final reveal opened up a lot of questions too! It turns the tale retroactively from a horror tale to one with a hint of tragedy – the rat monster seems to have once been human, with a loving family at that. Now it is a monstrous beast, and the family may well remain in the bones strewn around the basement…hopefully not, maybe.

      Good story overall, well done! 😀

  21. Michael Case Avatar
    Michael Case

    The Letter

    By MD

    Dear Silverton family,

    I regret to inform you that your family member died in battle. The details of the battle, that took place on the 23rd of April 1867, had been hidden from you. I feel that as one of the survivors of this battle I have an obligation to inform you of what happened.

    Early in the morning on the 23rd of April the Union Army with support of a few Naval ships, started to secure the hill near the Willington Annex NY. At first it seemed like an easy task, the Southern Army was nowhere to be seen, and there was no indication of any resistance.

    The Southern Army revealed themselves through the smoke of their guns. There was no place to go but back down the hill. The Naval ships were supposed to fire on the hill at that point but didn’t. The ground had become slick with blood from the dead.

    It was my order that encouraged the remaining men to charge up the hill one last time. Upon taking the top of the ridge we discovered that only eight of us survived. Four Union Army soldiers and four of the Southern Army. A member of the Southern Army started to surrender pointing out that the ships were beginning to unload more men. As we all breathed a sigh of relief what we saw chilled us to our collective bones.

    Those men that came off the ships, tore open the men that were laying on the ground, and with their hands, started ripping out the hearts of the soldiers that were wounded and then gorged themselves on it.

    We, the surviving eight made a pledge that day to hunt down every one of those on the ship and take revenge on them for this action. I write this letter to you now because the last of those on the ship have been dealt with. I can only hope that this letter gives you some closure as to what happened to your family member.

    Captain James Thomas
    12th of September 2014

    1. Michael Case Avatar
      Michael Case

      Thank you all for taking the time to read this story. I wondering what everyone thinks of using the “Letter” format as the story delivery device?

      I also hope you like the story, and yes the dates being used are deliberate.

  22. PixieWings Avatar
    PixieWings

    (Reposted from Private)

    Plasticity
    By PixieWings

    He’d named her Wedge after she’d pushed first herself through the door to his lessons, then both paws into the clay under his fingers.

    “Take it out, Vitale!” The Potter had demanded, swatting the air above Vitale’s head. “This work requires precision!”

    Vitale is trying to be precise, trying to keep his fat, rust colored tears from dripping into her opened chest.

    From what he can tell, she’s been hit by a car.

    He’s placed her on the work table, peeled back her skin and fur like he’s been taught, delicately pulled apart her ribs. Her heart sits in his palm, still and red, half wrapped in wet earth. With shaking hands he traces the veins, molding clay against the chambers. He hasn’t thought to bring extra water, and it’s quickly drying out.

    If he can’t work fast enough, it will crack.

    “Accept the pain, Vitale.” The Potter had said, thrusting the ceramic eye into Vitale’s face until it sunk into the socket. “Make it your own.”

    Vitale stares into her glazed, gold orange eye and swallows, trapping his sobs behind his lips.

    He twists his hand at the wrist and begins the other side. Tenderly he drags the metal loop of his tool under the arteries, carving holes for them to join to his work. He dabs at where they meet, smoothing the line into nonexistence.

    The finished product shocks him with its being.

    He hasn’t got a kiln.

    “Do not fear death, Vitale.” The Potter had breathed, driving the shard of terracotta between Vitale’s ribs. “There is nothing it can take from you.”

    Vitale cups the heart in both hands.

    He seals the hole between his thumbs with his mouth.

    He breathes out.

    He breathes out his heartache and horror. He breathes out soft trills and chin scritches, the warm weight on his chest when he’s allowed to sleep. He breathes until his lungs claw up his throat to plead for his mercy.

    He gasps in.

    And whimpers.

    Something butts against his knuckles.

    And purrs.

    1. This is really interesting. I feel there is a kind of juxtaposition between what the Potter did with Vitale and what Vitale is doing to Wedge. From what I could read, it seems to me that Vitale is either someone created by or healed by the Potter; something he is now trying to replicate with the injured cat.

      I like how you’ve placed snippets of the Potter working on Vitale in between Vitale’s work on Wedge. It really makes it seem like the two instances are mirroring each other. There is also a certain sadness to the earlier parts of the scene, which makes the end much sweeter.

      Well done!

  23. Insania404 Avatar
    Insania404

    The Secret Beneath Oneiron Corporation (Oneiron Universe)
    By: Insania404 [Private Repost]

    It had been a week since he fought the shadows, a week that ended with the director slumped on the floor. The corporation was under Alfred’s command, but he never fancied himself a leader.

    Alfred slipped his key in the elevator, allowing him access to the research facility hidden deep underground. The elevator doors slid open into the dimly lit hallway and Alfred headed into CiRFiS #6, a prototype that he and the director were working on. He opened the door and was immediately greeted by a malnourished creature that only barely looked human and spoke as if his veins were filled with caffeine instead of blood.

    “Hello director – it’s still weird saying that – Have you come to check up on the other director? He’s not doing well I’m afraid – His memories are completely scattered”

    “H.C, Isn’t there a way to steer him toward his memories? Can’t you build a few environments for him to find?” Alfred said.

    The portly Architect responded, “With a more forgiving CiRFiS, yes. This one can be tricky to design environments for since they are often corrupted by the occupant’s mind trying to dream. Essentially, creating an environment is like trying to do heart surgery while holding the organ outside the body. It’s possible, but the potential for failure is exponential.”

    “So creating an environment while the mind is integrated could-”

    The caffeinated skeleton interrupted, “We could make an environment that we control entirely – one that we can send him to if things start to corrupt – Maybe use something that he remembers fondly?”

    “Thirteen! That’s genius! I could recreate his apartment and use it as a safe mode, fooling his brain into thinking that he’s awake and each environment is an organic dream! It’s crazy, but it might work.” The Architect said, beaming.

    Alfred chuckled, “Looks like you’re performing heart surgery and I’m handling his baby.”

    Alfred walked over to the comatose body laying on the table. “Don’t worry, we’re all here for you. We’ll find a way to save you and together we’ll bring your brother back. I promise.

    1. Alex Lewis Avatar
      Alex Lewis

      I think it’s cool how you tell us about these important mechanics in such a fluid, casual way. What’s the CiRFiS? Well, from the way they talk about it’s a person they’re using some SAO style technology on. If I’m wrong, then I know it’ll be clarified soon. It’s a really nice, easy to read piece.

    2. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      Safe to say that the Oneiron Corporation isn’t having a swell time. Now they won’t even have some sweet tunes in the background as they go mad.
      It’s good to see the Architect and Thirteen again, as well as Alfred who was in the story where CiRFiS was first mentioned. Now I kind of understand what it is. A sort of immersive virtual space. In Alfred’s story it was being used for an interrogation and this chamber is being used for the preservation and rehabilitation of the director, who fell hard to the madness.

      I continue to look forward to more. Very noice.

      1. Insania404 Avatar
        Insania404

        Thank you for the review! Unfortunately, as this is technically the end of an act, it will soon be time for intermission. You are absolutely right about the CiRFiS, but the question remains; How does this help fight off the Madness?

  24. Mango Gravy Avatar
    Mango Gravy

    Hunger Unquelled
    By Mango Gravy

    “I’m sorry.”

    He hears it all. Howling in the moonlight and screams in the dark. Screams silenced by the sound of snapping and tearing, before only the howling remains. That was hours ago, but he recalls it as if it’s still happening.

    It’s everywhere. Gore covers the floor and walls. It drips from the ceilings, glistening in the rising sun.

    The taste of iron dances upon his tongue. It’s invigorating, energizing after the exhaustion of the hunt, yet terrifying. He had reveled in the savagery, and with so profane a display there was no hiding. He would be hunted now.

    He tastes salt too. Tears. But not his victim’s. These are his own, streaming from his eyes as he sits there, frozen. He contemplates the monstrous acts he had committed that night, and the suffering he will endure when the hunters find him. The sting of silver isn’t lost to him, but he doesn’t move. Part of him welcomes judgment, so he sits still.

    But another part of him wants to live. It wants to run and hide, to not be seen red handed and red faced. Shameful and cowardly.

    He looks at the corpse before him. It’s face was torn beyond recognition. Limbs bent in too many places and ending in lacerated, bloody shambles. Entrails strewn across the room.

    And there, in the mess of it, sat a heart.

    As he climbs to his feet he bumps his head on the ceiling, taller than before. He tries to turn away but walks straight towards the mass of viscera instead, his eyes fixed on the gleaming, red heart at its center, licking his lips.

    He bends down as he reaches for it, fur already sticky with blood. He grasps it, clutches it tightly in his claws and raises it towards his waiting jaws.

    He stands there, hunched over in the vermilion light of the rising sun. A beast frozen with a mix of despair and elation, savoring the taste of the heart and the salt of his own tears.

    Howls echo through the woods. They almost sound sorrowful.

    1. Shades of Mr Hyde with maybe some werewolf overtones. Some werebeastie for sure. Hideous transformation, bubbling jets of gore. The whole spectrum of horror in tones of “what have I done?”

      Monster or man is always a good one for the horror scene. Same with guilt versus necessity. A countryside werebeastie in a cityscape, since the protagonist is shown bumping his head on the ceiling.

      Is he hearing his pack howling? Is he lost? Does he need to escape? Maybe I’ll learn something if you do future installments.

    2. Insania404 Avatar
      Insania404

      The mental state of a newly turned werewolf. An intriguing concept, Mango. I love how the story uses the grisly scene as a driving force for the main character’s own sorrowful self-reflection. They now know that they are a monster and will be hated for actions that they have no real control over. The power of bestial instinct fills them and consumes them until the only thing that’s left is a hollow voice, crying in the woods.

  25. Connor A. Avatar
    Connor A.

    Before the Test (Sword Isles)
    By Connor A.

    “I’m not sure about this.”

    Henry peeked his head over the vial. He wore a playful smirk on his face. “You’re not getting cold feet now, are you?”

    Liamik’s shoulders tensed at the question. “About the experiment, no. However, I draw the line at you testing the concoction yourself.”

    “There aren’t any ingredients that can poison me.”

    “Separately, no.” He took the vial before Henry could grab it. “In addition to not knowing what this can do to humans, you would also be risking your lineage.”

    Henry sensed what Liamik’s next question would be regarding that point in his argument and sighed. “I wish it was simple, but you know how Oscara is. He’d invoke laws that no one has used since the War for the Isles if it meant getting what he wants.”

    Liamik deflated a little, but held his ground. “Well, if Oscara is that much of a problem…” He waved the vial slowly.

    Henry chuckled, though it was a tired chuckle. “A tempting offer, my friend.”

    The royal wizard set the vial down and walked around the table. “If I may share my actual thoughts on the matter. Assuming this potion has the properties we hope it has, I don’t think you even need it.”

    Henry was about to speak up, but Liamik lifted a hand to signal he was still talking.

    “Evil people do not care about how their actions affect people. The fact that you cried over accidentally running into a dog is enough to tell me that you still care.” He kept himself from laughing at Henry’s embarrassed face. “If you still want to go through this, at least tell me about your heir.”

    Henry thought about it, then pulled out his dagger. “The information is hidden in my journal. The cipher is ‘harvest.’” He offered it to Liamik in a way that the hilt was pointed at the wizard. “If anything goes wrong, you know what to do. Straight through the heart, no hesitation.”

    Liamik took the dagger and handed the vial to Henry. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

  26. Ceci N’est Pas Un Coeur
    C. M. Weller

    Plaesir crept down into the cellar to work on her project. Insomnia worked for her in this case. Her life was eaten up by doing little things for everyone else. Her children thought she took in sewing to help pay the bills and they were right. Sort of.

    She took in a lot more.

    She took in scrap. Machines. Clockwork. She had taken in an education and used it. She saved so much already by doing her own repairs on the family automobile. Those who assumed came to a rude shock when she pointed out everything they’d already done wrong.

    They’d never believe what she was building down here. Right now, it was hummingto itself. If Plaesir could just get it finished… she could change the world. Not just for her, but for everyone.

    Twin lights in the gloom turned to face her. “Bonjour Maman,” it said.

    French had class. That, and nobody around here understood a word of it. Her own children barely used it. She code-switched. “Quietly, my little. You must not wake the babies.”

    “Yes, Mama. How are they?”

    “Doing well.” She organised the parts for this evening’s work. Modification of the systems. Babbage’s difference engine had more than one application, with small enough gear linkages. Line up the machinery in parallel, and… it could think like a human being.

    The special opal was in her way. The one with interesting properties that powered everything inside the chassis. The fact of its shape never hit her until the machine said, “That’s my heart. You’re holding my heart.”

    Long ago, it was an interesting stone she found. She had polished it smooth. She hadn’t thought about its shape. The lights flickering within matched the movements of her babbage brains.

    In that moment, she was not looking at a mechanical servant in progress. She was staring down at her daughter. With a heart in her hands.

    She put the heart aside and patted her one copper cheek. “That’s right, my dear Bitzer. That’s your heart.”

    Plaesir may never change the world with her invention. She certainly changed her life.

    1. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      This story served as an excellent look into a universe where gems have the ability to power robots. You did forget a space between “humming to,” but I believe that is the only grammatical correction I could find and it does not detract too much from the rest of the story.

      1. Uuuuhhh… If I fix that I’ll be over the word count… (blush)

    2. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      I love the homely feel to this. The mention of babies sleeping and the humming gives this a very cozy mood. Which fits with Plaesir’s character as she very much seems like a mother who’s essentially created a mechanical child. So the gentle, comfortable tone of this story fits very nicely.

      Very nice.

  27. You Probably Shouldn’t Have Done That
    By Marx

    There’s a reason fairies are typically chosen as the familiars of good people. They do have a dark side, their shadow as it were. But it can be purged. This leaves the fairy a pure creature.

    Usually.

    When a fairy perceives themselves wronged, the shadow’s purpose changes. It becomes an avenger of the fallen.

    Matt finds himself the unfortunate victim of such a shadow. He thought his nightmares were nothing more than his guilt about the circumstances of the fairy’s death. But the shadow had simply gotten inventive. Physically, it stood no chance against a being of Matt’s power, but in his mind, he was just as vulnerable as any other being.

    “Please… You need to stop this…” Matt pleaded, forced to not only suffer through his literal torture but also watching as his loved ones worried over him in the physical world, unaware of the true nature of this ‘coma’.

    It was Hell.

    It was made worse because he knew what was going to happen if this continued.

    “And why would I stop?” The shadow gleefully carved another scar into Matt’s soul, watching him writhe in agony. “You deserve this. Lynette was unjustly murdered. You could have stopped it. And now you must pay for your inaction.”

    “You don’t understand…” Matt groaned. “You’re killing me.”

    The shadow cocked her head to the side and grinned so widely that it became unnerving. “I know. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

    “Did you know your current form is a construct of your own mind? This is all technically happening in your head. Even so, if I were to do something like… THIS…” She reached inside his chest and squeezed where his heart would be. “…it becomes quite excruciating. Wouldn’t you agree?”

    Matt howled in pain. “You don’t get it! The closer… I get… to death…”

    “The closer Death gets to him.” Death finished, appearing behind the shadow out of nowhere. A powerful aura surrounded Death as her eyes narrowed. “Killing my beloved is a VERY stupid way to get my attention, foolish shadow. Well congratulations. You have it.”

    1. Things not to mess with:

      1) The Fae
      2) Anthropomorphic personifications of mortality
      3) Their BFF’s/SO’s

      I’m prone to believe that the fairy was harmed by accident, but that has never really stopped the Fae. I agree with the title. They DEFINITELY should not have done that.

      …that said, I did read it in a Hagrid-esque mumble…

      1. Lol! I’m not going to say that Hagrid did not partially inspire this title, because I’d be lying if I did. And Lynette was most definitely not killed accidentally. It was entirely of her own doing but being “wronged” is subjective. Though the funny thing is, Lynette died in the first place because she irked Death(which triggered a Final Destination-esque series of events)

    2. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      Every time I see something from this world, I become more fascinated. This was a great way of explaining what a shadow is while tying it to this prompt. I assume Matt will get out of this with his life, but I am curious about the relationship between him and Death now.

      1. Thank you so much! I’m so glad you enjoyed it! As I have done quite a few prompts set after this timeline-wise, your assumption on Matt’s survival is a pretty safe bet lol.

        Matt’s actually fated to be Death’s mate. At this point in time, he hasn’t accepted it yet, but he’s aware enough to know that getting anywhere close to killing him would provoke her and Death doesn’t do warning shots, which is why he kept trying to warn the shadow.

    3. In another scenario, this would in fact be a balls out way of getting in contact with a God or representative of Death. Perhaps even misunderstanding Death’s view on life.

      In this scenario however, it’s funny that the closest Matt will probably ever come to being killed is by a pissed off Fae spirit. Not totally surprising knowing the Fae, but still a great “not so invulnerable” moment.

      Poor Lynette though. Just…fucked over entirely. Especially if what she did wasn’t really her fault, but more part of Death’s line of dominoes to get her killed and away from her boyfriend.

      Feels bad man.

      1. It’s one of those tricky things. The moment Death had beef with Lynette then she was a goner. But she had full free will in what she did, it was just always going to lead to her death. So she still technically tried to kill those close to Matt so she’d be the only one left, which doesn’t exactly make her an innocent and in fact her poisonous and possessive way of thinking is what made Death turn on her in the first place.

        But, of course, if she’d never met Matt in the first place(which was Laila’s fault) then none of this would have happened to begin with. So… it’s tricky.

    4. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      Ah, Lynette doesn’t ever get a break does she? Not even when she’s already (heh) a shadow of her former self. It makes sense that a fae being would know well how to circumvent the ‘rules’ of immortality such as with Matt, it’s just a shame she never fully understood all of the factors in play. Well, a shame for her anyway, rather conveniant for everyone else’s happiness though. XD

      I do feel for Matt though. Even though he is *literally being tortured to death,* all he’s trying to do is stop the shadow from being inevitably ganked by a very angry Death. He really is the one person wholesome enough to actually deserve the ridiculous power he has, I suppose.

      Another lovely story of yours Marx! Always happy to read them. ^w^

  28. Calliope Rannis Avatar
    Calliope Rannis

    Routine Core Examination 3026 (Corespace Universe)
    By Calliope Rannis

    Clay pushed himself off the metal walkway, floating gently in the humming air. Behind him was the metal wall of the gargantuan cavern in the centre of the world. Ahead, freefloating in the gravity well and anchored in place by many hanging cables, was a huge, shimmering platinum sphere. The central AI Core of the city-planet Vang.

    Her heart…

    Using bursts of air from the propulsion pack on his back, he crossed the abyssal gap towards the Core. Beside him was a solid-light projection of a golden-haired woman, smile bright and confident, cheerily floating along without effort. As Clay reached the shifting, semi-liquid surface, he looked around in confusion.

    “Down here!” He shifted his gaze back to his companion, as she gracefully flew to a lower section of the sphere. Following close behind, he watched as the fluid shrank away from her glowing touch, exposing the port he needed to access.

    Reaching into his pocket, Clay took out his diagnostic key, comparing it with the port. Yup, definitely the right place. He moved to put it in, before pausing.

    “Freya, are you okay with this? I have heard the Core diagnostic process can be pretty-”

    “Oh!” A hint of surprise. “I have had these examinations thousands of times before, you don’t need to worry about me.”

    “…You sure?”

    “It’s okay, really.” Her smile was warm and gentle.

    Clay nodded, and inserted the key into the Core. He couldn’t help but notice Freya’s wince as he did. The sphere shuddered beneath his hands. Her projection flickered uncomfortably, as though it could shatter with a breeze.

    Instinctively, he reached out to hold her hand, warm skin clinging to shivering light.

    Freya looked up in shock for a second, before he felt her grip tighten in his.

    A moment later, it was over. The sphere went quiet, her projection stabilised. The key slid automatically out of the port with a triumphant bleep. Clay turned back to the shining woman before him. “There. All done for another year.”

    Her smile was weak, but thankful. “Yes. All done for now.”

    They were still holding hands.

    1. I love the phrase “shivering light” – it’s so very evocative. So poetic and descriptive and emotional all in one neat package.

      Also the cuteness with still holding hands. Just… aaaawww… They’re so cute.

      Naturally I just walked in on this universe, so knowing nothing about it, I have to say “nice science fiction”. Does FREYA stand for something or is it a name like Siri or Alexa so that the AI’s in our houses seem more companionable?

      Fixing a city’s AI sounds like something that shouldn’t have to happen. Regular maintenance schedules should keep that from being a necessity. Then again, we all know real cities with shitty roads and decaying infrastructure because of the New Years’ fireworks budget or whatever.

    2. I will say, this story is really sweet. I couldn’t help but smile at Freya and Clay the entire way through and that moment, when they don’t let go of each other after Clay is done, is just the cutest little cherry on top.

      What really stood out to me here, is how you handled characters. In a short space, you’ve conveyed both Freya’s kindness and Clay’s consideration clearly, making the final lines all the sweeter. I gotta say, my heart skipped a beat, when Freya was fritzing and I thought for sure she was going to disappear. I am so glad that she didn’t.

      Well written!

    3. Alex Lewis Avatar
      Alex Lewis

      I like the dynamic Clay and Freya have, and I have to wonder if, in this world of course, why they decided to name her Freya. Was it just because fertility goddess, or was it an acronym? And I wonder, too, if this was a longer story, how these diagnostics would play in. What I’m saying is you’ve done a great job o leading me into your world, and as a reader I can only wish for more.

      1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
        Calliope Rannis

        Thank you for your review! Freya is a Planet-Class AI, and all of her kind are named after a god – either an ancient god like Freya was named after, or perhaps newer ones too. They don’t tend to be perfect matches to the gods they are named after though, both by design and also due to personality evolution often ending up slightly different then the expected archetype the name conveys.

        I have several other Corespace stories too in the backlog of these posts, though I can also send you others directly if you are on the Tale Foundry discord! 🙂

    4. This story is just so ridiculously adorable for its length. As has been mentioned before, the dynamic between Clay and Freya is absolutely the glue that holds this piece together. It makes the futuristic setting pop out that much more, so that some as mundane and everyday as a diagnostic process becomes this heartwarming adventure.

      There’s a chance I have a biase because I’m a sucker for humanlike AIs, but I stand by my statements lol. Very well done!

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