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122 responses to “Writing Group: Functionally Immortal”

1. 

   Nick

   April 22, 2021

   The Block
   By NictheGreat

   There once was a village. A small busy village. A village that loved doing what they do most. Farming, trading, blacksmithing, and potion-making. Who could ask for more?
   Except for one villager named Edward who did not like doing the same routine repeatedly. Stuck in this endless cycle. But today is different.

   As Edward traveled along the path, he has known for so long he sees something in the distance. He spots a block that he has never seen before in his life. So, then he decides to grab it and take it back to his house.
   After the long supply-grab trip he takes his new prized possession into his house without anyone noticing. He then placed it down carefully examined the block with cation. “What is this thing, “he said as he slowly moves back to get a closer look.

   Then suddenly the block starts flashing and changing different colors and textures. After that, it stopped. Until a very bright white glow in his house, it faded out.
   Edward opened his eyes and discovered that the block was gone with a patch of smoke left behind. But then he looked down. He was flying. Edward was scared and surprised at the same time as he saw himself three feet off the ground. But why was he flying?

   He then checked his inventory, and he was surprised again that there was a block that was not there before. So, then he took it out of his inventory, and it started to spawn all different types of blocks all around his house. Gold, Diamonds, Emeralds; you name it.

   But he wanted more so than he used the block to spawn every block in the game.

   After that, he spawned and multiplied every block in the game until it consumed the entire world and him with every living creature. He then flew up and looked at the damage that he had done to the whole world. “What have I done,” he said. He then decided to fly up and so high that he will fall to kill himself. So, he did but it did not work. He didn’t die. He was immortally stuck in a new cycle of being the only one alive.

   Reply
2. 

   Frei

   April 17, 2021

   We Cheated Fate
   By: Frei (Please do not select for stream)

   “We are here by their grace, and that alone. That is the gift of the Ka’si, to us. This stone monument from which I emerged is a creation of theirs; as am I. This I learned from the etchings They left behind for me to glean in the walls of this great Tsa Valeer. It is quite a climb to exit the confines, and above us is the Tsa Kohi, a world of dense trees, water, and wild beasts. It’s a frightening prospect, but I needed to explore it…I’ve learned much. What is good to eat comes to me as does my speech, and our script, a wellspring of distant thought. The Rishl Sona’al. The meditation that brings enlightenment. The racing of the mind that makes the world make sense.

   “But you have yet to experience that. Unless…You feel it in your sleep? I wouldn’t know. I’ve…I’ve messed it up, quite a lot. Sona’al gives me clarity, but it says nothing about salvaging living beings from these containers. Too many mistakes. They weigh on me, you know…They never knew life, but my pain is greater, for I have held every single one in my arms. This burden is great.”

   Vlu’xilkik stood fully, and stepped toward the obsidian dome. Whether it was opaque, or the fluid inside was merely that black never occurred to her. She pressed a cold hand to the surface. Were those thrums of a pulse her palm felt? Or was it her imagination? Maybe it was hope? She’d needed that in spades, ancestors forbid. A lesser heart would have given up by now, but empathy forced her to soldier on.

   “…So please, wake up for me. You have been asleep for a very long time. The great danger They protected us from has passed. Naught but a bad dream.”

   She sighed, and then chirped, “I didn’t name them. I-I don’t know if my soul could take it. But I’ve told you much. I…Think your name is… X’ihvinh. Your name is X’invinh.”

   Silence. Her hand drooped away from the pod. Her head lowered in prayer.

   Then, a crack.

   Reply
3. 

   Lunabear

   April 17, 2021

   Rational Function
   by Lunabear (Private Repost)

   Davey’s home stands exactly as Erma and Sheam have described it– two storeys with chipped, blue paint.

   The crystal skull of my cane becomes a rounded, golden knob as my hand passes over it.

   In the reflection of the door’s glass, I check my illusionary magic. Dark skin. Curly black hair. Eyes a deep violet.

   Floating beside me, my sprite, Zum, is disguised as a butterfly.

   “Your eyes stand out too much, Boss.” His wings flit nervously.

   Three blinks see the shade become a heavy amber.

   Zum nods approvingly.

   Before I can ring the bell, the door opens. Davey’s father releases a spider into the grass.

   I arch one brow at this act. It further confuses me as to why he treats Davey so poorly.

   He straightens and sees me. “Oh, hey. You’re the guy from the circus.” He points to Zum. “Buckeye. Nice.”

   “Hmm. Yes. Keen eye for insects. My apologies for the intrusion. I’ve merely come to amend my terrible behavior for frightening Davey. My CABARET is departing soon, and it wouldn’t be proper to leave things as they are.”

   He crosses him arms over his chest and leans against the jamb. “Don’t worry about it. Boy needs strengthening up. ‘Sides, he’s out shopping with his mother.”

   I contain my bristling anger. Must he be so hardened in his parenting? Zum lands on my shoulder. Warmth seeps in.

   “Pity. I was hoping to personally apologize.” I pull a wrapped gift from my pocket and extend it. “See that he gets this? I noticed he’s fond of surprises.”

   The father narrows his gaze. “This a trick?”

   “I assure you, sir, this is no trick.” A piece of my very essence lies therein. Should Davey choose the path revealed to him, I shall know.

   “Garrett.”

   “Big Top.”

   He takes it and rotates it between his palms. Curiosity resonates in his eyes. “I’ll be sure he gets it.”

   His tone sounds dubious. I bow regardless. No one except Davey can open it.

   “My deepest gratitude, Garrett.”

   “Right.” Garrett waves and reenters the house.

   I believe in Davey’s resolve. And even Garrett’s.

   Reply
   1. 

      Alex

      April 17, 2021

      Interesting story. This Big Top guy both fascinates and distresses me. He may be one of the good guys, but he is acting sketchy as heck. I wouldn’t put it past Garrett to throw the box away, before Davey can see it. I do like how you write Big Top, though. He clearly tries, but he is really not a people person, is he.

      A few things spring out to me, though. I’m not sure, who is the immortal one. Is it Big Top? Is it Davey, when he makes contact with Big Top’s essence? Also, and this is more a semantic thing, but is there a reason why the word ‘cabaret’ is in all caps?

      Good story!

      Reply
      1. 

         Lunabear

         April 17, 2021

         Thank you so much, Alex! I’m really glad you enjoyed this. Garrett can definitely try to not give the gift to Davey in some way. I’m not very sure how successful he’ll be on that one.

         Big Top is most certainly not a people person. He is the functionally immortal one, although, there might be potential for more in the future where Davey is concerned.

         We’ll definitely have to see what happens when Davie comes into contact with Big Top’s essence, if that happens. I will say that the arc is moving in a new direction after this, though.

         Cabaret is in all caps because Big Top is correcting Garrett. He’s kind of petty like that. Thank you so very much for reading and reviewing. I’m very glad you found some kind of value out of the story.

         Reply
   2. 

      Makokam

      April 17, 2021

      Ah! I should have realized what this was from the first line but I honestly forgot about Erma and Sheam. Even Davey didn’t do it. Sadly I don’t think I caught on until “CABARET.” But I was so happy when I did! It feels like forever since we’ve seen these characters and I’ve grown super interested in this story and what’s going on.

      I feel like this would be a great opportunity for Davey but either he’s just too young or Big Top and his people just keep approaching it wrong (probably both), but it doesn’t seem like they do anything but scare him more each time.

      Maybe a time skip…when Davey is like…13 and he still has the gift hidden in his closet and he decides to go actually look at it, figuring he must have been over reacting or flat out imaging it.

      Or Davey could surprise me (though not Big Top), and actually open it and decide to go down the rabbit hole.

      I look forward to seeing more of this story/world.

      Reply
   3. 

      Marx

      April 17, 2021

      I do love this series. I was there for it as soon as I saw the word circus. Big Top is an interesting character as always, and it was interesting seeing his frustrations throughout the conversation. The other thing I like about this is the prompt isn’t exactly obvious. It could apply to Big Top just as much as it could apply to Davey should he should he choose Big Top’s path. There’s also the part of his essence that it could apply to.

      All in all a very interesting tale that, as it should, just makes you want to see where else this story is going to go. Well done!

      Reply
4. 

   Makokam

   April 16, 2021

   Chronicles of The Dragon: Thicker Than Water
   By Makokam

   Imogene sipped from her cup, then set it down before taking another look around the apartment.

   “How do you live like this?”

   “Like what?”

   “Normally.”

   Mira smiled, “I don’t live normally.”

   Imogene gestured around them, “You don’t call this normal?”

   “I barely spend any time here. At most I sleep here occasionally. I only keep this apartment at all because it’s near you.”

   “…You keep an apartment just in case I accept one of your once-a-decade invitations?”

   “Well, only since the WLP formed. Before that a lived more like dad.”

   Imogene snorted, “I find it hard to believe you could live in a cave for any longer than you absolutely had to.”

   “It was usually more of a hut. No more possessions than I could easily carry or replace.”

   “I remember the nomadic lifestyle. It was almost nice…”

   “Surely you must have had some good times once you took the mantle of Queen?”

   “I did it because it was necessary. Not because I wanted to rule.” She shook her head and sighed. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder how you and the old man can keep on living.”

   Mira stirred her tea.

   “Perhaps it’s simply part of human nature to want what you can’t have and to hold on to what you can lose.”

   “You’ve never wanted to die?”

   “There were a few times I thought I was ready. But I always pulled myself back.”

   “It’s strange. I watched the sun rise once. It burned terribly… but it didn’t stop me. And then I just woke up again. You could’ve died peacefully of old age, and yet you keep pulling yourself back. Even after all these thousands of years. It’s hard to imagine.”

   “Perhaps it’s because you know you can’t die. I’ve allowed myself to sustain injuries that would kill a normal person, because I know it wouldn’t cause me lasting harm. Maybe if you didn’t know you’d come back you wouldn’t be able to stand in the sun.”

   “Perhaps. It’s certainly something to think about.”

   Reply
   1. 

      Chengir

      April 17, 2021

      I know a number of people who write like this… almost all dialog. As if the work isn’t the written word, in the form of a story scene, but a radio play. Visualizing it for television or film, you’d have to shoot the scene looking at the back of everyone’s head. The conversation would be heard only from this angle because the author never describes any facial features… so, you obviously can’t see any faces. It’s rather like listening to two people while sitting behind them on a bus.

      Not that radio plays are bad… quite the contrary. Although you do need different actors to read the parts… and when you are delivering text to one reader at a time, that becomes a tricky maneuver.

      In such a work, distinct voices become paramount.

      Reply
   2. 

      Marx

      April 17, 2021

      I know how much you were battling with this one and for what it’s worth, I do think it works awesomely. Having a story that’s almost all dialogue works when the voices and what they’re talking about are interesting and that is a definite check in both cases. It just feels like you’re watching a conversation between two immortals and it’s a great use of the prompt this week. Well done!

      Reply
   3. 

      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      April 19, 2021

      I agree with Marx!! Even though of course it would have been nice to have some description, I think it works well as just dialogue because the topic of conversation is so fascinating. And for those of us who have heard them described then the lack of description isn’t too much of a hindrance.

      Unfortunately I don’t have much to say that I haven’t said already for the long one. I think this is a great take on the prompt, and I love discussions about the nature of immortality. And I just love vampires in general.

      My favorite part here was “It’s strange. I watched the sun rise once. It burned terribly…but it didn’t stop me.” as well as “Maybe if you didn’t know you’d come back you wouldn’t be able to stand in the sun.”
      Can’t remember if you phrased it differently than the long one but I just love that image. I love the idea of a vampire wanting to watch the sun rise. (Though perhaps it’s not so much that, and more than she wanted to check if it would kill her.)
      I’m curious what she means about how Mira could have died peacefully of old age, though.

      And I am curious what made you decide to change some parts at the end. You had Mira ask her “You wanted to die?” in the long version, right? I’m curious as to why you decided to change it. Did you mean the same thing you said here and decide to make it clearer here? Or did you really mean to say that Imogene had wanted to die at some point?

      Hoping to see more stories about these two in the future!!

      Reply
5. 

   Iceburgh69

   April 16, 2021

   The immortality of mountains. (reposted from the Private post)
   By Iceburgh69

   Time. It marches on. One of the few things more ancient than I. I remember being born of fire, my peaks razor sharp. I remember tiny, odd things creatures blinking in and out of existence. The wind playing with my brethren and I. I remember the seasons, turning from one to the next to the next. Time marched on. I remember great crashing and upheaval, a violence unlike any other.

   Time would pass.

   Water would make its mark upon me, carving itself into me bit by bit. I would lay down to rest, and in my slumber drift away in the water and on the wind.

   I would awaken to a thunderous clash, and scream forth with fire, reborn! I would see that I was no longer where I once was, the land having drifted with time. New, wondrous things wandered the earth, great monsters and curious, tiny things. I blinked, and they were gone, destroyed by fire from the sky. I would blink again, and a new wonder would take their place, carving their home in the frigid world.

   Time continued to flow like a river. The great beasts would cease to exist except as a memory. Then, curious things would walk the land. Scarcely a moment would go by and they are carving their way through me, into me, under me. They would create mountains of their own, and wind paths through and around me. They would give me a name, though I would never know its meaning. Theirs is a fast language, one that I could never comprehend.

   They are gone, now. The world is not as it once was. I lay down to sleep, to drift once again on the water and the wind. I would have the name the carvers gave to me remembered, as it was my first; Appalachia.

   Reply
   1. 

      Chengir

      April 17, 2021

      An interesting take. There’s a theory that without time, there is no gravity. There is no energy, no forces not even light exists… for it has no speed. There is only mass.

      So, there is an interesting twist to seeing mass musing on the existence of time. The one thing that creates everything else.

      Reply
      1. 

         Iceburgh69

         April 17, 2021

         And destroys, hence “laying down to sleep, to drift on the water and the wind.” That was to represent erosion.

         Reply
6. 

   Mr. Cloudy

   April 16, 2021

   Aeon

   By: mr clouDy#3337 (Discord)

   It was a night covered in the shade of clouds. Two people walk down a winding path toward an imposing mansion. A man and a woman, wearing similar garments with a sigil. They came here on a request to investigate a missing person’s case of over twenty people. They continue to the entrance and opens the doors that practically tower over them.

   They’re greeted to a large ballroom. Their minds are filled with images of people dancing across the room only being block out by the sheer darkness of the room. Agitated by this, she takes out a touch, using spare flint to light it. This shows the full beauty of the ballroom, with the only stain being that of time. Not wanting to idle on for too long, they head toward one of the doors tucked in the corner. But what they find contrasts the elegance of the ballroom.

   It was a room of unfinished machines and notes spouting about nonsense. They wander toward blueprints on the wall. The man tries to look at it, he can barely make out the details, despite the light from torch. He tries to take out another torch, but suddenly from behind him, a blinding light fills the entire room, dazing the man for a moment.

   Regaining his senses, he looks back, only to find that the woman is gone. Confused, he looks around the room to see that the door that they came through is open. He runs back into the ballroom to search for her. He yells out, only for his words to echo across an empty room. Just before he starts to worry, he hears footsteps from behind. But when he turns around, he sees someone different. A man covered in cloth and a hood hiding his face.

   The clothed man speaks in riddles that only he can understand, with the only things he’s able to make out is that his name is Seth and that he’s the self-proclaimed savior of the world. The sheer insanity of Seth’s word’s makes the man stumble back. Seth goes onto apologies, to achieve his goal, he’ll need the man’s life to end, all the while playing with a sigil like the man’s own.
   Realizing Seth’s intention’s, he tries to run back to the entrance, but it’s for naught, as he sees the same blinding light from before beneath him. When the light subsides, the man is frozen in time. Seth then walks toward him perplexed. Once near, Seth tears off the same sigil the man’s partner had, assures that they will both be remembered, before raising his hand to the man’s head. The blinding light bursts out of Seth’s hand, the man catching a glimpse of Seth’s face before death. It was nearly rotten off, a fitting image for what would be his grim reaper.

   -DM me for extended cut-

   Reply
   1. 

      RVMPLSTLTSKN

      April 16, 2021

      Tagback!

      This is a fun piece. I really like that you make the nameless characters empathetic. The last paragraph feels clunky. It may just need to be broken up though.

      There are quite a few misspellings. You may want to use a spellcheck in the future. I know Grammarly will catch most basic syntax mistakes as well.

      Good job!

      Reply
      1. 

         Mr. Cloudy

         April 16, 2021

         Sorry about the spelling mistakes, still hoped you enjoyed it though.

         Reply
7. 

   i-prefer-the-term-antihero

   April 15, 2021

   [Removed]

   Reply
   1. 

      Alex

      April 15, 2021

      As soon as you mentioned Kronos in Peter’s Story, I suspected this would involve Neverland somehow. However, I expected some kind of origin story and was pleasantly surprised, when you flipped the tables on me. Seeing Neverland from this perspective was quite interesting. And I’m glad Kronos returned. He is fascinatingly creative in his cruelty.

      Like I mentioned, I love how you took Peter and Neverland and flipped it into a darker side. It also shows a nuance of Peter, where he makes a wish, of which he does not know the consequences. You can’t please everyone and sometimes immortality is a curse. That’s a lesson Peter has yet to learn. Only thing I wonder is, what did Kronos punish him for?

      Well written!

      Reply
   2. 

      Tamela Redfin

      April 15, 2021

      Yikes! Nice dark turn on immortality. Also loved the line “Pretty sure it was supposed to sound ominous and foreboding. Sounded great to me.”

      Reply
   3. 

      Chengir

      April 17, 2021

      Now this is a nice story. It’s beautifully written, but more than that it has gravitas. There is a feeling exhibited by the character that the reader can get attached to. But beyond all that it calls to the reader to think… something many stories skip altogether.

      You also expand on a theme and make it your own. Instead of just channeling Rod Serling… you when beyond. Nice.

      I hope you continue to write many more like this.

      Reply
   4. 

      Makokam

      April 17, 2021

      A Peter story! I should have suspected.

      I can certainly see how his wish, taken as he probably worded it, would turn into an existential hell. Eternal life only really feels like it would have appeal if you were eternally…somewhere between 15 and 30. Maybe as young as 13 or as old as 50. But think of all the poor babies that will never age in a properly functional person. I’d rather be eternally 5-years-old than eternally 5-MONTHS-old. And it can vary a lot, but age definitely starts to take it’s toll after 50. And even if you were a very healthy 57 I can easily imagine them being resentful of everyone eternally 27.

      Better wish would have been for everyone to be eternally young…but then Kronos might have made the world full of 7-year-olds.

      Reply
8. 

   Tamela Redfin

   April 15, 2021

   I lived?
   By Tamela Redfin

   Adam seemed to calm down about the burn, but ironically it was me in the doghouse. I only kept near Fuselage during this time. That was until the end came.

   We were tracking down Neon Eyes, our next bounty. Fuselage, Leo, Libra and I were in a pod.
   “How’s the fuel looking?” Fuselage asked me.

   Libra stared at the gage. “We could use more fuel. Leo…”

   “Me? I’m not getting dust on my outfit.” Leo shuddered.

   “I’ll do it.” I raised my hand as if I was still in school. Fuselage nodded and I went off. The fuel room had many crystals inside and like coal, they left soot. I didn’t mind it much, in fact it had a sweet scent that I liked so much I stuffed a little in my backpack.

   I looked up and noticed the hatch was closed. That was odd. It wasn’t usually closed. To my knowledge, it was never closed. But then I realized what happened. We were under attack.

   Fuselage was flying in a very zigzagged pattern, but it was not enough. He hit the gas, still flying in the pattern. I kept hitting the walls. But then Fuselage made a fatal mistake by braking.
   I hit the glass panel and everything turned white and I heard a horrible snap.

   I woke up, hearing the dripping of the cave. Wait, how I was here? I looked at the Tiger’s Eye, which I was still clutching. Did I live? Hmm, must have been a bad dream.

   Time to get out of the cave again. I took a deep breath. Something sweet was in the air. I quickly opened my backpack and reached in pulling out a cyan rock. No way!

   Reply
   1. 

      Mr. Cloudy

      April 16, 2021

      Seems like an interesting premise for a story. I can get a sense of the larger world by the mention of things like the Neon Eyes and the pods they use to fly (sorry if the pods are something else). It’s also an interesting take on immortality as well, being more like a reset to a certain point in time and being able to bring object with you to that point. I was a bit thrown off by the pace and feeling like I’m lacking Information, though this may be because of the word limit.I feel like this can be something special with proper time given.

      Reply
      1. 

         Tamela Redfin

         April 16, 2021

         Yes, you are correct. I plan to write a whole story (told by Virgo and maybe Leo and Libra) called Stellar Rebirth. These are only small chunks of the story told my Cameron.

         Sorry about the pacing, I do admit to that being a weaker point in my writing.

         He has something that gives him powers, but he doesn’t understand them himself.

         Reply
9. 

   jesse fisher

   April 15, 2021

   Out of Touch
   by Jesse Fisher looked over by Edward

   In a broken and poorly lit room lay a mechanical clicking and clattering as if some machine was left to rot as it ran unseen and uncared for.

   “Touch,” A mix of robotic and natural with minor glitches filling the still air. “I remember touch.”

   Optics looked at hermetic sealed objects; an instant camera with an old straw hat, a roughly done painting, and other personal items known only to them. The clicking and almost shuffle before it was stopped as if hungry but it did not need food as the room seemed to fade.

   —

   It awoke to a half forgotten world and for a moment thought all that it recalled was a dream. Or nightmare. However once it was dressed and in a car going to work the radio began to play it’s own voice in a rhythmic tone.

   “Home.”

   “Hold on.”

   “If love is the answer, you’re home.”

   It could not stop itself as this played out, this was that moment that would lead to it’s nightmare of a life. The pastself did not notice the vehicle as it tore through it’s car and the world briefly went black be for a happy rhythmic tune as cry-laughter filled it’s ears and people celebrated it living.

   Machine and organic worked as it slowly noticed the time go by, life moving while it was stuck in time.

   The rhythmic tune slowed down to a melancholy tone as the world began to turn to dust and ash.

   “Touch, sweet touch,” It stood looking towards a life long gone. “You’ve given me too much to feel.”

   “You’ve almost convinced me I’m real!” Rage filled it’s speakers before it slowly moved back to the terminal that kept running data behind it.

   “I need something more.” It concluded one more before repeating it again. “I need something more.”

   Reply
10. 

    Tyler Desperado

    April 15, 2021

    Best Deal Ever
    By. CosmicDesperado30

    The Devil sat on Kevin’s bed, his mouth agape in shock and horror. Kevin was happily stabbing himself in the chest bloodlessly with a butcher knife while flipping him off.

    “I cannot believe this,” the Lord of Lies gasped, staring at the scroll of human flesh and inked with the blood of the damned. Kevin screamed obscenities in his ear then scrambled off to chase down his father’s handgun.

    “Of all of my years on the human plane, how did I become so complacent in my superiority?” He mumbled as he flipped through the terms and conditions of the contract. Several bangs were heard in the distance. The sound of small bits of metal hitting hardwood floors came later, followed by Kevin’s raucous laughter.

    “No harm or injury may come to the undersigned by any physical means, direct or indirect, as long as they desire it,” The Devil shrugged a bit while reading the contract aloud. Too many throughout the centuries had caught on to how pain was essential to a fulfilling life so he had to sweeten the infernal deal somehow. Kevin pulled out his phone and called his friend John, urging him to come over immediately.

    “Once the undersigned has reached the mortal age of their choosing, the contract holder may claim ownership of the signed individual’s sole, to do with as they so wish.”

    The Eternal Shadow’s eyes widened in shock and horror as he read back the amended text. There it was, a simple grammatical change that made all the difference in the world. Caused by a kid’s pricked finger, and the initial shock of a Jesus Loves You poster on the wall.

    Satan’s jaw remained open in befuddlement the rest of the day. The parents had come home, dinner was eaten, and Kevin had decided to wash it all down with a gasoline and rubbing alcohol cocktail. It was strong but the aftertaste was disgusting.

    He left only after Kevin threw his sneakers at him and said he was paying in advance.

    Reply
    1. 

       Lunabear

       April 15, 2021

       Man, Tyler! When you mentioned this was DARK humor, you really meant DARK. Wasn’t expecting that first paragraph. It is pretty funny, though. I can’t say I wouldn’t give the finger to the devil, either.

       I feel like this is a continuation of a previous story by you. It’s cool how Satan has to look over his own contract because of his hubris.

       Critique:

       The Devil shrugged a bit while reading the contract outloud (aloud).

       One little word can bring the whole thing crashing down. This was a really fun read despite the lengths Kevin goes to in order to test the limits of the contract. I also genuinely love him throwing his shoes at Satan. Nice touch. Thank you for writing and sharing this.

       Reply
    2. 

       Chengir

       April 17, 2021

       Nicely done. Just enough exposition to give the reader a clear view of the situation. With quite the nice twist thrown in. And unlike many of the other writers here, it tells a story and isn’t just a conversation between two characters for the edification of the writer.

       I do like the throwing of the shoes. there are a number of cultures where that is quite the insult, even more serious than the finger.

       Reply
    3. 

       Makokam

       April 17, 2021

       I mean, if The Devil really wanted to, he could skin the soles of Kevin’s feet off. Might be the only pain and harm the contract would allow. After all, the soles of the shoes are the shoes’ soles. Not Kevin’s.

       Also, screaming obscenities at the Lord Of Darkness and Lies might not be the best idea. As he could theoretically decide to void the contract just as Kevin is showing off to his friends his new “trick”.

       Reply
11. 

    Karl Aegnor

    April 14, 2021

    Elixir of Life
    By Karl Aegnor

    Connor O’Neill looked down at his drink. Some folks across the bar were singing a song, something about drinking and lost love. That’s Ireland for you. “Why do they sing’t, Liam? I thought we drank to forget those things.”

    The older man sitting next to Connor took a long draught. “’Round this part o’ t’ world, folks just feel feelings. T’ drinkin’s incidental.” Liam smiled as he said it, but Connor seemed unamused. “All jokes aside, Conner, d’ ye know where the McDowles come from?”

    “Lots of drinking in yer genealogy, eh?”

    Ignoring the gibe, Liam continued. “My ancestors were vikin’s. Came here to rape and pillage ‘till they got ‘t in ther heads t’ stay. And my theory fer why they stuck around is they found people with similar feelin’s toward t’ bottle. Why do ye drink, again?”

    Connor sighed, and slouched a bit more. “It all feels like so much, sometimes.”

    Liam nodded. “T’ Norsemen drank afore battle, ‘cause then ye don’t feel that yer bein’ stabbed. Yer invincible! Now, some people take this t’ an extreme. Hell, I’ve been out drinkin’ me own death fer years. ‘Course, then the old hag’s ridin’ me ass t’ next day.”

    Connor let something of a chuckle escape. The old man tended to ramble, but there was something in what he’d said. “Is’t really all worth it, then? The drinking, I mean.”

    “’Course‘t is! Long as ye do yerself two favors.” Liam set another glass on the table. “Make yerself invincible tonight, and don’t ever get married.” He smiled with a grin that could be called toothy if he’d had more teeth.

    Connor shook his head, “It’ll all still catch up to me. I’ve got commitments, paperwork, people to talk to…”

    “Then make yerself a fohkin’ to-do list or somethin’! I’m not yer councilor, I’m yer drinkin’ buddy; and I’d like to get back to the drinkin’.”

    Connor cracked a smile for the first time that night. “Maybe ye’ve got a point. Cheers!”

    Liam returned the gesture, his grin widening. “Now yer talkin’. T’ t’night’s immortality!”

    Reply
    1. 

       Lunabear

       April 14, 2021

       I really enjoyed this story, Karl. It’s a very unique and fun twist on the prompt. The thought of alcohol making one feel immortal and also showing certain effects by not feeling pain. Very nice.

       I also enjoy the framing of this story as two buddies drinking and sharing how they feel about the world and life in general and bonding over drinking.

       The only sore spot for me in the story is the use of the R word in regards to Vikings. But that is 100% from a personal aspect on my part. It’s a tab bit daunting whenever I see it, but that’s not a slight on you at all.

       Overall, I really got a kick out of this one. Great job. Thank you so much for writing and sharing it.

       Reply
    2. 

       Chengir

       April 17, 2021

       Nice use of accent in language. The scene has an interesting flow to it. It’s a well written scene.

       Reply
12. 

    RVMPLSTLTSKN

    April 14, 2021

    Functional Immortality
    By RVMPLSTLTSKN (The Saga of The Deep One’s Wake)(repost from private)

    It is a truth, uncommonly acknowledged, that prayer requires no higher power. Prayer is an act of the soul. A function of distressed minds. A torment of spiritual inclination.

    Vienas was poorly equipped to act as a healer. She was no midwife, no cunning woman, no worker of old ways. She was a curator of knowledge and blind at that.

    Padas coughed in his fevered langor and she longed, wished, prayed, for his health.

    Time is illusory without the cycle of day and night. Without others to agree upon time.

    Vienas sat with Padas until his fever-heat rivalled the Everflame. Until he was too warm to stay beside. Until she was sure he would die without divine aid.

    She was not sure of many things. She was the kind of person who had worked with proofs and so was taxing upon new information. But she knew he would die by his ragged breathing. By his mumbled, incoherent words and sweatlessness and her own hunger. She couldn’t cook and time crawls when the stomach eats itself. She could bring no water to him. Without him, she would die. But she wouldn’t die alone.

    She knew the temple layout and she knew where Padas kept the pearls. Her questing fingers found the orbs before the bowl they sat in. She heard a chorused

    —For you, the Living.

    and prayed.

    Gods, she prayed. For Padas, for herself, for the unborn thing she hadn’t told him about yet. For his future fatherhood. But mostly she prayed for healing and hope as she stumbled back to her lover and poured the pearls upon his dying body.

    The pearls clattered as they fell. She heard them strike like the pitter-patter of mice running. They didn’t roll away, of course, but evanesced. She dropped them all. All his prized pearls that he’d gathered with copper tongs and iron knife. And her prayer, unanswered, manifested itself with her will.

    Padas’s fever broke in that heure. His body healed the harm done by the fever. Padas would live and be a father. Vienas would live and be his wife.

    Reply
    1. 

       Mr. Cloudy

       April 16, 2021

       I’m honestly very impressed by this piece. Each word is placed with such intent, it’s almost like an art piece. Immortality is also well included, functioning more as hope for a full life, rather then it simply being an extension of life. Though I do at time feel lost by the wording, though it may be since I lack understanding of some of the phrasing. You should be very proud of this work.

       Reply
    2. 

       Chengir

       April 17, 2021

       I enjoyed the way this started out. You have a nice way with words.

       Isn’t the rest of “For you, the living…”
       … this mash was meant too
       When you get to my door, tell them Boris sent you.

       As in the Bobby Pickett song? Does that make it a Transylvanian prayer?

       Reply
       1. 

          RVMPLSTLTSKN

          April 17, 2021

          Not quite 😉 but thank you for the kind words!

          This piece isn’t entirely selfcontained in that it references earlier pieces. The pearls have appeared a couple times and Padas/Vienas are characters I’ve stuck with for a while now. The pearls are a divine message of hope and nostalgia in this damned world.

          Reply
13. 

    Chengir

    April 14, 2021

    Functionally Immortal
    By Chengir

    You are about to retire after forty years of teaching history at William Henry Harrison High School. You live alone on the south side of town. It’s an unseasonably warm Saturday in May when you receive a letter in your mailbox. The envelope appears quite old-fashioned, with the address handwritten in an ornate cursive style.

    Opening the letter, you find it’s from a place called the University of the Yazoo. You are offered a revered place in the Immortal Society of Retired Teachers. You call up a friend of yours from the local university. “Sorry. Never heard of a place like that. Hold on…” You can hear the clacking of a keyboard. “No, there’s no university listed with that name either or any such society.”

    Butterflies fill your stomach. Your palms sweat. “Thanks, Mike.” You crumple up the letter into a ball and deposit it in the trash, where it will be soon forgotten.

    On Sunday night, you pick up the phone when it rings, thinking it is your friend Mike. “You really should consider joining. It’s quite the honor.”

    “Who is this?”

    The phone goes dead with a click. Replacing the telephone handset on the cradle, you notice a wrinkled piece of paper on your desk. It is the offer letter you had thrown in the trash. The wrinkles were still there, but it is no longer in a tight ball, but neatly flattened out on the desk.

    Monday morning you get in your car and pull out of the driveway to go to work. The street is empty, and the sun is out again. Unexpectantly, there is a man in a black leather raincoat and a dark, wide rim hat right next to your car. You’re sure you didn’t see the man. You roll down your window.

    “We haven’t received your acceptance yet. You should seriously consider joining.”

    You unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door to find out who this man is, but once out of the car, you notice the street is strangely empty again…

    Reply
    1. 

       RVMPLSTLTSKN

       April 14, 2021

       This is a haunting piece, Chengir. The escalation is well executed and clearly well thought out. You play with space the audience is familiar with and rely on that with just the right amount of exposition.

       I’m not sure the second person perspective was the correct choice. It certainly changes the story’s telling and the emotional weight to tale. If you’re experimenting heavily with 2nd Person (I seem to recall you’ve done a couple prompts with it), I’d say this is a medium success. It’s a good tale, but could be better by offering a proxy for the audience to empathize with. A main character, if you will, to guide the audience’s feelings.

       Well done! Looking forward to more!

       Reply
14. 

    Neurotoxin

    April 14, 2021

    Nowhere
    By Neurotoxin

    The man opens his eyes to immortality. White walls extend outwards in a room with no borders, filled with nothing but emptiness. Taking a step, the man can still faintly feel their physical body, yet it blends into the infinite pale. The man continues his journey into the void. Each step being mute with the potential sound having nothing to reverberate off. Breath is all but silent, with no air to be inhaled the action of the mouth becomes more so a formality to the non-existing audience perceiving nothing. The man continues aimlessly, relying on useless eyes to lead to any which direction. They stop for a moment, lifting their phantom-like hand to their chest to check for any semblance of a heartbeat. Yet his arm seems to move an infinite mile, never reaching its destination. The man begins to ponder such a perplexing place, yet no thoughts can be formed in the clearness of their head. The man lies his hollow body down on the ghostly space.

    Alone. Such is immortality. A destination completely unknown to a traveler seeking it. Many dreams and ideas fill a traveler’s head of seemingly eternal life. Yet at the final resting place of immorality such dreams are void in the tide of endlessness and complete lack of the world. The removal of all things human is present here. Joy, pain, anger, thought and the like are banished to a mortal world wiped away from the traveler like the absolution of a black hole. Immortality becomes double-edged. A body may survive due to the gifts of eternity, yet the mind falls to victim to its curse. All meaning in anything is lost to the sands of an hourglass that does not move.

    As the man finally gained immortality, they fell victim to these trappings. Enticed by the treasures of potential knowledge gained in the beginning hundreds of years of renewed and continued life, they failed to see what the future would have in store for them. Gifted eternal intelligence only for it to be stripped away and leave them bare in the void of their own mind.

    Reply
    1. 

       Iceburgh69

       April 14, 2021

       Oof! You illustrate the heavy price of immortality quite well! It’s something that people rarely think about when they ponder immortality. Because Science did a video called You Don’t Want To Live Forever, where he goes into the limits of the “storage capacity” of the human mind, and the fact that experiences are finite while true immortality is infinite. I think you brushed on both of those extremely well here.

       Reply
    2. 

       RVMPLSTLTSKN

       April 14, 2021

       This is a wonderfully philosophical piece. We don’t get enough of those, methinks, and this scratches that itch nicely. I found it well written and even a little rhythmic.

       I only have one critique:
       Pronouns are becoming wildly more important to folk. In this piece, you swap between ‘he’ and ‘they’ several times when ‘he’ is sufficient for the piece.

       Otherwise, well done! I don’t think I’ve read your stuff before, but I’ll definitely be looking out for your pieces in the future.

       Reply
    3. 

       refreshing firecrumb

       April 16, 2021

       A well done story, mate. You capture the true evil of immortality pretty well here. Specifically about how, while the body may remain immortal, the mind definitely does not. Really my only complaint here is the constant swapping between he and them, which confused me really hard at first. Nevertheless, this was an enjoyable read.

       Reply
    4. 

       Chengir

       April 17, 2021

       Okay. Now that’s terrifying. Forget your monsters, gore, and bad language. A world of nothing built upon nothing. For a reader’ who depends on the author to send them to places they can’t yet imagine… this would truly be the delivery of a malevolent curse that would make even Egyptian mummy maker’s cringe.

       Reply
    5. 

       Marx

       April 17, 2021

       Oh wow! This piece is amazing! It is awesome to see immortality described as the double-edged sword that it is. And you described it beautifully. I’ve always thought that the human mind just isn’t geared to be immortal and this story details some of the reasons for that. Its a very intense read. You did a great job with the prompt on this one!

       Reply
15. 

    Preserves Roses

    April 13, 2021

    The Lost City
    By Preserves Roses

    Cecil perused his shelf of ingredients, he started to grumble as he found that several of the jars that he needed for that afternoons research were empty.

    “Margret!” He bellowed.

    Margret bustled into the room a few moments later, carrying a basket full of paper packets each carefully tied with a string.

    “Well, I see you did get my ingredients, why didn’t you bring them up sooner? I gave you that list 3 days ago.” Cecil took the basket, and began sorting through the contents.

    “I’ve only just returned sir, I can’t get to market and back in less than 3 days.” Margret let her arms fall limply to her sides.

    “3 Days? Cecil said gruffly, “what nonsense, we are in the middle of the city, there are no less than 3 different market squares in a 10 minute walk of here.”

    Margret ran a shaky hand through her hair. “We aren’t in the middle of the city anymore sir,” her voice wavered a bit. “ The city died an age ago.”

    Cecil banged his fist on the table. “ Don’t be absurd! Cities don’t die! I helped build this city 1000 years ago, and it will be here for 1000 more!”

    Wordlessly Margret moved to a nearby window, and opened the shutters wide. Cecil followed her and looked out. From their third floor window they could see far across the landscape. Cecil looked in awe at the sunken rooves and weeds choking the streets. He registered for the first time the silence that surrounded his tower.

    “There was an earthquake upstream 100 years ago; the river changed it’s course, the boats could no longer reach the sea. The residents started leaving soon after. We are the only ones left now.” Margret spoke softly.

    Cecil looked towards the river port. He could see the remains of the wharves reaching out, disappearing into what was now a forest, with no sign of the calm river that used to flow past. “I was… I was busy doing my research, my experiments.”

    Reply
    1. 

       Lunabear

       April 13, 2021

       I do enjoy this story, Roses. It’s quite sad to see Cecil’s realization to the changed world around him. He’s been so wrapped up in his experiments that a century has passed.

       It feels very much, at least to me, like Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. It reminds me of Victor being locked away, toiling over his creations.

       Critiques:

       Cecil perused his shelf of ingredients(.) (H)e started to grumble as he found that several of the jars that he needed for that afternoon(‘)s research were empty.

       “3 Days? Cecil said gruffly(.) “(W)hat nonsense(.) (W)e are in the middle of the city(;) there are no less than 3 different market squares in a 10 minute walk of here.”

       the river changed it’s (it’s) course, the boats could no longer reach the sea.

       These critiques did nothing to dampen my enjoyment of the story. I love that Margret is an anchor for Cecil. Their relationship is very much scientist and assistant, but there is definitely care and admiration between. I also really like the inside look of the lost city from the perspective of someone who’s still in the city instead of from an outside perspective. Very nice job. Thank for writing and sharing this.

       Reply
    2. 

       Karl Aegnor

       April 14, 2021

       I like this. Cecil is so wrapped up in his work that the world moves on without him, leaving him alone and confused. It seems like there is something there. There is one place where you missed a quotation mark: ‘“3 Days? Cecil said gruffly’ should be ‘”3 Days?” Cecil said gruffly’. That’s all I noticed. Great work.

       Reply
    3. 

       Chengir

       April 17, 2021

       Excellent. You do an outstanding job painting a picture with your descriptions. The interplay between the characters is also an first-rate touch. I like his denial of the obvious and then his reluctant admission that he wasn’t paying attention.

       A little clean up and you really have something. Bravo.

       This is an excellent example of a story scene, rather then a simple discussion between two characters with uninteresting attitudes… as so many authors write here. Definitely a cut above. My only regret is that I can give you only one like. I should have liked to have given you at least ten.

       Reply
16. 

    Mike D

    April 13, 2021

    Pre-owned Meat Suit
    By Mike D

    Ah, that’s better… a brand new meat suit. Well, it’s new to me, at least. What? Don’t look at me like that. He wasn’t using his body. I think you humans call it a “persistent vegetative state.” Just think of him as a body without a soul and me, a soul without a body.

    Hmm? What was that you said? Oh, you want to know what it’s like to possess someone. It’s not possession exactly; that implies one entity enhabiting a body that already has a soul. Possession is nasty business. Have you ever tried to fit two people into one suit? It gets rather crowded. I wouldn’t say I’d like having to struggle over who gets the left arm and who gets the right.

    It is interesting, though. When I put on a new suit, I have his memories and experiences. Joeseph’s wife, Melissa, is the love of his life. I know this whole thing sounds rather creepy to you humans, but Melissa would rather have a broken Joeseph than no Joeseph at all. I’m not doing this to get Melissa. This is a matter of survival for me.

    It’s a fair trade; Melissa gets her husband back, I keep living. It’s a win-win. Oh, she will notice that I’m different. I can’t fake his personality, but the doctors will explain that she should expect to see some changes. I will mostly try to stick with enjoying the things Joeseph liked, but there are some things you just can’t fake enjoying.

    I’ll do it right. Pretend to be “recovering” for a few months, let her give me suggestions and help me “figure out who I am”. You’ve seen how it goes in the movies. And with the knowledge I’ve gained through these millennia of musical meat suits, I will be the perfect husband. We’ll live happily ever after.

    Or, at least, until this vessel breaks down and I have to find a newer model.

    Reply
    1. 

       Nicki Snyder

       April 13, 2021

       Lol! Great line “musical meat suits”. And at least this sounds a lot less terrifying than the decomposing Eger-suit from Men in Black.

       I like how this entity is willing to live the lives of the bodies it inhabits. It shows it cares and honors the gift it was given. You figure most would change bodies and not care about the family, but just do their own thing.

       Reply
       1. 

          Mike D

          April 14, 2021

          Thank you so much. There was so much I imagined about this entity that I couldn’t figure out how to fit in this 350 character limit. For instance, I imagine that he already knew something about the type of life Joeseph had before deciding to use that particular body.
          Thanks again for the comment.

          Reply
    2. 

       Alex

       April 13, 2021

       This is a really interesting concept. Souls taking other people (or at least their bodies) as hosts is not a new concept, but I really like your take on this. Seeing it from the soul’s perspective is fairly rare, at least as far as I know, and it very much works with the new soul justifying their actions.

       I like how you present the situation here. Especially the line about how ‘a broken Joeseph is better than no Joeseph’. It lends the scene a certain poignancy, as it not only shows how this new inhabitant tries to justify their actions to themselves, but it also implies that things can go wrong down the road. It feels like the perfect setup for a tragedy.

       Nicely done!

       Reply
       1. 

          Mike D

          April 14, 2021

          Thanks for this. The concept relied heavily on other stories/shows/movies that had to do with possession.
          In most of that lore there are demon souls and angel souls and they tend to deal with good and evil. Demon evil, angel good. They often don’t leave room for something between the two.
          That was the idea here. What if there were an entity, like a soul, that could only survive outside of a vessel for so long before it dies? What if its only goal really is survival and it fell more into the Chaotic Neutral (freedom) alignment.

          I want to explore this entity even further.

          Reply
          1. 

             Iceburgh69

             April 14, 2021

             I hope you do!

             Reply
    3. 

       Karl Aegnor

       April 14, 2021

       Wow. The imagination of this piece is astounding. It presents something of an ethical dilhemma as well, though it offers no answer. I like pieces of writing that leave me with something to think about, so that gives it points in my book. This seems a very straightforward take on the prompt, but it did not occur to me exactly like this. Very well done.

       Reply
    4. 

       Chengir

       April 17, 2021

       I like the way to use the very cold term “meat suit” but juxtaposition that with an interest in the entities obligations while inhabiting the body. That’s unique. A well told tale, sir.

       Leave them thinking… that’s what I always say. Nicely done.

       Reply
17. 

    VeryBoringName

    April 13, 2021

    At Every Cost
    By: VeryBoringName

    The young man entered the cabin, the sleek metallic walls were left bare, and two stools were the only thing for furniture in the room across a big window that allowed to see hundreds of thousands of stars. He sat down on one of the stools, the other one was occupied by an old machine that still roughly resembled a human.

    “Tell me, because I never understood it, why do so many of you still cling to biology?”

    “And why do you cling to metal?”

    “To live of course, I am one thousand years old, while you live only to upwards of 140 years.”

    “That is the exact same reason why so little people decided to not switch, you have reduced yourself, no longer breathing, eating, drinking or sleeping, what is there left for you?”

    “To live, and to consume whatever entertainment people have conjured.”

    “You won’t enjoy it, you couldn’t feel it between your fingers or smell it.”

    “My memories of doing those things are still preserved in the cloud, hell, I remember those things from Earth, the globe we’ve escaped.”

    “Remembering and living are two different things, memories are foggy and experiences are vibrant.”

    “And yet I live, and will live longer than you, I outlived your parents, grandparents, grand-grandparents, and previous generations.”

    The man scraped his fingernail against the limb of the old thing.

    “And yet rust sets, you aren’t immortal, you have just extended your lifespan to immeasurability.”

    “And? I will just keep on exchanging bodies, you won’t be able to do that, my memories are in the cloud and on several back-ups, a functional immortality.”

    “How long until one link fails?”

    “Too long, you won’t see it, maybe your grand to some power grandchildren.”

    The young man stood up and looked down upon the being, it exchanged its humanity for life.

    “Why did you do it?”

    “To see the end of everything.”

    “At what cost?”

    “At any cost.”

    The thing shook its head and pointed to the door, it did not understand the young man, how come none wanted to see everything.

    Reply
    1. 

       Mike D

       April 13, 2021

       I enjoy your writing style. You make sure to add enough description so that the reader can paint their own picture, but you don’t go overboard and try to force precise images.

       Reply
    2. 

       Preserves Roses

       April 13, 2021

       A great story. If you take us out of our bodies, are we still human? It’s one of those questions that technology is pushing us towards. Having a conversation between someone willing to be uploaded to the cloud and live in a hunk of metal, vs someone holding on to being a living being is a nice way to illustrate the questions of how far we should let technology go.

       Reply
    3. 

       Chengir

       April 17, 2021

       I like it. The story concept is excellent. The philosophies pertinent.

       Although I strongly disagree with Mike D. I hope you expand this story with more detailed description. I’d love to read that version. Because no one walks into a bookstore and says, “Show me the section with the stories that don’t have much description!” (They listen to radio plays for that.)

       All I could think about was how much more powerful the organic character’s responses would be if they were accompanied by a description of their facial features… something the robot would not be able to emulate. Yet another difference in the two philosophies. The window to a person’s thinking that can only be transmitted by the face. What a difference it makes in a single line of dialog when it ends with “he said with a wry smile.” It can change everything… without overdoing it.

       Reply
18. 

    refreshing firecrumb

    April 13, 2021

    Living In The Light
    By refreshing firecrumb

    It first came to me in a dream, the voice of God. It spoke with the warmth of a dying star, and with fury that could rival the Hammer of Pompeii, yet with the sadness of a forgotten lullaby. Unto me, it spoke its true name:

    Tipota.

    That night I awoke in a cold sweat. I tried to rationalize it at first, telling myself it was a mere nightmare. But it spoke to me again and again, telling me only its name. Eventually, I asked it to prove itself real.

    My bedside lamp turned on. I was standing in the middle of my room. I was awake, and yet God was speaking to me. It confessed how much it loved me, and how special I was in the vast sea of ignorance and idolaters. That I was well and truly worthy of what happens after.

    …

    The power drill weighed heavy in my hands. It shook with the rage of a warhead, yet with the precision of an assassin. I looked at myself in the mirror. Only the cold shell of a human being stared back, with bloodshot eyes and black tears.

    The angelic tool lifted itself to my forehead, my hands attached. Slowly, it found the mark I carved and began performing. The pain writhed and screeched, and yet drilled deeper and deeper. But the pain began to fade, and the drill began to slow, and eventually, the two ceased.

    …

    It took me a moment to pull myself off the drill. It lingered in the air, watching me marvel at the ghost in the mirror.

    A voice came from behind me. It spoke nothing yet I understood it all the same. I followed it out of the room and saw the world at large in stasis, and as I walked, the universe began to unravel. Yet still, I kept walking.

    After what felt like an eternity, I met the source of the voice.

    …

    But all I found was a God shaped hole, seething with empty light. Reality cracking at the seams.

    And so I stepped through.

    Reply
    1. 

       C. M. Weller

       April 13, 2021

       Yeah you’re right. This is DARK. A measure of insanity, a measure of inspiration, a measure of haunting… perhaps a dose of Coraline with the world unraveling around your protagonist.

       [Then again, I had that kind of nightmare once upon an eon ago, but it was grey goo eating everything I loved and not an unraveling… TMI]

       Do they become a deity, or were they one already? Or is this an afterlife journey to some other beyond?

       So many interesting threads you’ve sewn into this little tale. Colour me interested.

       Reply
    2. 

       Adrian Solorio

       April 13, 2021

       Those first four paragraphs are magic. So much wonder and mystery there. I enjoyed this read a lot, it was a fascinating take on the prompt and very well written. Good job!

       Reply
    3. 

       Lunabear

       April 14, 2021

       I’m so glad I got around to reading your story, Refreshing. It’s highly intense, morbid, and mysterious. I’m always fascinated by “God made me do it” plotlines, and this one is really, really good.

       The psychological aspect of it hits me in an interesting way. Like having voices in your head that aren’t yours. Was it actually God? Or was it a psychotic break?

       I love the ambiguity of it all. Very great job.

       Thankyou so much for writing and sharing it.

       Reply
       1. 

          refreshing firecrumb

          April 14, 2021

          Aww, thanks, thats really sweet of you to say! Personally I’m very glad at how this one came out, because I really didn’t plan for it to be so morbid and horrid, but the second the idea of a power drill entered my mind the story’s path was defined instantly. Admittedly I think the power drill was inspired somewhat from some dark part of the SCP wiki. It was my pleasure to write it, and I’m very glad to hear that you enjoyed it so much!

          Reply
19. 

    Arith_Winterfell

    April 12, 2021

    “The Barrow Mound”

    By Arith_Winterfell

    A loud thump could be heard, now deeper within the barrow mound.

    “Spirits!” my companion Fenrik looked around nervously with his sword drawn.

    “Spirits don’t usually make noise, Fenrik,” I replied quietly, “still, keep your wits about you.” We pressed onward through narrow dark hallways.

    As a necromancer I could manage most spirits, either drive them off or enchant Fenrik’s sword to deal with them. I was more worried about the draugr who shambled though these halls. We had already slain several along our way so far. I felt certain this barrow mound held the key secret I needed for the alchemical potion. We crept along quietly as we finally entered the large chamber ahead of us. Gold and silver glinted in the light cast by my spell which illuminated our path. I held up a hand to halt Fenrik from rushing to gather the treasures. The thumping echoed through the chamber, as we approached the sarcophagus on the dais in the center of the room. What lay within, it seemed, could hear us. Something was wrong though, the light didn’t reflect off the sarcophagus like stone, it was a dark metal. Slowly it dawned upon me. It was alchemical Black Lead. The dark metal covered the sarcophagus completely as one solid piece, with no lid or seam with which to open it.

    Fenrik stared at it saying, “Why would they spend so much, just to make that much alchemical Black Lead? It costs more than its weight in gold to make it, and the stuff is far heavier than gold too. All that to keep thieves out?!”

    “No… it wasn’t to keep us out,” I said softly in awe. “Behold the forgotten resting place of King Eldoth the Undying,” I intoned softly. Another loud thump, as if in response, echoed in the chamber, followed by a low keening groan. “Undying, a fate worse than death.”

    Reply
    1. 

       Lunabear

       April 13, 2021

       Oooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh, Arith. I really love the Scandinavian lore that you’ve incorporated into the story. (I only know that it’s Scandinavian because I had to look up the word drauger). Thank you so very much for teaching me a new word.

       I love how well you blend adventure and suspense with that little horror stinger at the end. The king must have been one bad dude if they’re using black lead to contain him. I’m very interested to know more about him. To know that he’s still among the world of the living and is able to respond to people outside of his sarcophagus is really chilling.

       Critiques:

       There are a few run-on sentences that I found, as well as a few comma splices.

       Please take these critiques with a grain of salt, as this is a very great story. I would definitely love to see more of this duo’s dynamic in future installments. I’m especially excited to know more about the necromancer. I love the atmosphere here. Thank you so much for writing and sharing it.

       Reply
    2. 

       Iceburgh69

       April 14, 2021

       Taphophobia (fear of being buried alive) is a powerful thing. So much so that many of our founding fathers in the US had it (not without reason, since some sources say that as many as 2% of burials were people that were in a coma or stupor and only appeared dead), and many patents were put in place so that if someone WAS buried alive, they would be able to let the living know somehow. I think that you illustrated this well!

       Reply
    3. 

       Marx

       April 15, 2021

       This does just hit you somewhere deep, doesn’t it? Being not only buried alive but to be stuck that way to never completely die would be horrible. Not to mention the idea of a sarcophagus that’s all one piece is really interesting way to do it. Very cool use of the prompt.

       Reply
20. 

    Lari B. Haven

    April 12, 2021

    The place you lost (Haven’s Tale)
    By: Larissa (Lari B. Haven)

    “You entered the void with no exit anchor?” Jack said in a suspicious tone.

    “I told you, I entered by accident, I don’t know how to get out.” Haven sheepishly responded.

    Jack looked at Haven in utter disbelief. He rubbed the inexistent temples of his mask and tried to maintain his calm tone. “You are beyond helpless…”

    She curled her tails around herself again. “Do you know anything about this place?”

    “I’m a void magician, and I know a lot, but not all.” He took a deep breath and sat by her side. “The void is the reality of the in-between, it behaves like a liminal space, standing between dimensions. You can learn a lot, experiment a lot, live all kinds of unimaginable wonders.”

    She turned her big round eyes to him with curiosity.

    “As long as you’re here, you won’t grow old, you can’t die from any wounds; hypothetically, you can live forever inside the void. Centuries can pass before you realize.” He stopped and looked at his own feet, as he seemed to talk from experience. “Anchors are our only connection to our original reality, once lost…”

    Haven sobbed uncontrollably. If his words were true, that meant the world she left could no longer exist. As far as she knew, everyone she ever met could be dead. All because of her carelessness.

    The demon took pity on her, giving a long tight hug. “Where did I leave my manners? I never meant to imply what you are probably thinking.”

    “I just want to go home!” she whimpered in his soaked vest.

    “I’m not usually a charitable person, but Miss Haven, I will help you. I know of one person who could build anchors from the inside, but they require extensive research, and I’m not an expert on it.” His calming, deep voice helped her hiccups disappear. “Given the price of such endeavors, Miss Haven, I’m afraid I will need some return from my investment.”

    He flicked his fingers, and a document appeared on his hands. “Miss Haven, would you be my apprentice?”

    Reply
    1. 

       Adrian Solorio

       April 13, 2021

       Nicely done! A deal with a devil, or in this case a demon, but you held off the reveal until the end. I especially like the last paragraph, that really captures it…, and it’s a cliff hanger.

       The idea of losing oneself in the void without an anchor is very interesting and cool. Thanks for the read!

       Reply
    2. 

       Preserves Roses

       April 13, 2021

       A great read. To be so lost, in such a strange place must be very disorienting. To suddenly be told everything you knew could possibly be gone. There are so many things to think about in this story. Like the person who could build her an anchor. The world of learning magic she seems to be about to enter. Maybe even coming to understand how she ended up in the void to begin with. This could be a fun world (worlds?) to expand on.

       Reply
21. 

    Adrian Solorio

    April 12, 2021

    By the Power of the Plow

    By Adrian Solorio

    When the sun rose on the fertile fields of Migos, it brought with it a heavy dread which hung over the city-state like a fog. Turan stood with his people, nobles, priests, women, and children, behind thick adobe walls. In the fields, he stood with his men, sons, fathers, and grandfathers, watching the horizon, where a cloud of dust grew larger.

    Turan walked amongst the faithful. He listened to their many prayers and placed a reassuring hand on their shoulders, giving them strength. A young wife with four children stopped crying after he passed his hand over her heart, then she touched the knife in her dress firmly, finally resolved what to do if the walls were breached. Outside, Turan touched the arm of a shepherd boy who felt weak, lending him courage, and the boy grew firm, for he knew his sling would aim true.

    Then the enemy arrived.

    Pounding over the cultivated fields, crushing the crops, horse and man—together as one—moved in perfect savage harmony. The men of Migos, farmers and herders, faith wavered. And with a ferocious charge, the horsemen plowed into them, cutting them down like dry wheat under the scythe.

    Each death opened a wound in Turan.

    The remaining men of Migo’s, their faith shattered, broke, and ran for the protection of the walled city. Inside, the women wept, screamed, and cursed their weak God. All faith lost with the dead men in the field. A noble stabbed the high-priestess in the throat and threw her body over the wall.

    Turan collapsed outside the city gate . Blood, power, and mana seeped into the earth from his many cuts and wounds.

    Then, shadowed by the sun, a four-hooved woman stood over him. “Your people have lost faith and will soon be gone from this Earth,” said Scytha, The Exiled Goddess. “Father’s curse has proven to be a blessing. Those who ride the horse are more powerful than those who push the plow—wouldn’t you agree, brother?”

    And Turan’s immortality—tied to the Migosian’s and their worship—finally ended. And like them, he vanished.

    Forever wiped from mankind’s memory.

    Reply
    1. 

       C. M. Weller

       April 12, 2021

       Faith powered immortality. Sounds like a band name 😀

       Or was he a deity all along? It’s a little hard to tell. When the Gods war, mortals suffer. That’s a certainty. Of course, the whole “who’s mightier” debate kind of ignores the dependencies. Those who ride the horse need those who plough to _feed_ both them and the horse…

       Maybe Scytha’s in for some long-term repercussions for this one-upsmanship [one-ups-gods-ship?] and that’s going to be interesting to watch. From a safe distance.

       Reply
       1. 

          Adrian Solorio

          April 13, 2021

          Thanks for reading and commenting C.M. Weller.

          If all those who believe in a God die, does the God die too?

          I imagined this as a first encounter between ancient neolithic peoples. An urban society (Agriculturalist) and a nomadic society (horsemen). I was gonna include a bit about the men of Migos laughing at the horsemen, as horses aren’t used for war but for farming, but I ran out of space 🙄

          There was quite a bit I wanted to include on this one. But, I’ll just have to use it as a springboard for a longer, more detailed story. Which is why I love The Tale Foundry, the prompts really get the creative juices flowing.

          Reply
    2. 

       refreshing firecrumb

       April 16, 2021

       Damn, this one was a really great concept. It probably took me too long to realize it but it’s quite clever that you based immortality around belief. Makes me imagine a modern-day scenario where one of these “Gods” are the head of some cult, living off the belief of their worshipers.

       Reply
       1. 

          Adrian Solorio

          April 16, 2021

          Thanks for commenting. I’m glad you liked it. To be honest this is an idea Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman have covered in “Small Gods” and “American Gods”, so credit goes to them for planting that seed inside my head. Jared Leto has a cult…, I wonder how powerful he’s feeling these days.

          Reply
22. 

    C. M. Weller

    April 12, 2021

    The Kindness of Strangers (Unlikely Heroes)
    C. M. Weller

    Eons ago, when all magic was wild, a young Elf put hir hand to a God’s heart and did a foolish thing. Ze said, “I vow to make this world a better place before I die.” Gods take things like that very seriously indeed. So far, the Elf known as Wraithvine had lived too many years to count. So far… so good? It was often hard to tell.

    Such as now, where ze was tied and dangling upside-down from a tree while a bludgeon of Ogres was debating how best to cook hir.

    “This forever Elf,” said one. “Want magic. Want live forever.”

    “Hungry,” countered another. “Want FOOD.”

    Ogres are generally renowned for eating anything that couldn’t get away, so there weren’t a lot of alternatives around. The current stew was bark and fungus. It smelled poisonous, but so did all Ogre cooking. Three of them were arguing how to extract ‘forever magic’ and three were arguing how to cook hir. One was silent, watching Wraithvine.

    “You really live forever?” said the quiet one.

    “So far,” said Wraithvine. “I took a sacred vow seven eons ago and I haven’t died yet. Of course, I haven’t tested it by trying to die. Call me selfish, but I like being alive. Of course, by killing me, you could incur the wrath of the Gods…”

    “Me no want live forever,” said the quiet one. “Me no want angry Gods.” Saying that, she picked up a large rock and crept up behind the others. It was advanced strategy for an Ogre. Sneak up on the ones not paying her any attention, then stove their skulls in with the rock.

    She cut Wraithvine’s bonds and said, “They call me Stoopid ‘cuz me think too much,” she said. “Me no want bad things. Me see bad things before happening.”

    Wraithvine massaged hir wrists. “There’s no such thing as thinking too much,” ze said. “People willing to learn from the lessons of the past are smarter than many.”

    “You say me smart?”

    “Very smart,” said Wraithvine. “How do you like the name Pondermoore?”

    “Me like,” grinned Pondermoore.

    Reply
    1. 

       Alex

       April 13, 2021

       Aw. I like Pondermoore already. She seems really sweet. I bet she’s gonna become a sidekick to this Elf of some sort. Also, I’m always a sucker for a good pun, so I really love the name Pondermoore, given the Ogre ‘thinks too much’.

       I find the Elf really interesting. Ze’s been alive for a very long time, but ze doesn’t seem to be quite as lonely as many other immortal characters you see in stories are. On the contrary, it’s Pondermoore who is lonely. The Elf seems fairly content with hir fate. Or just used to it. Interesting characterization.

       Well written!

       Reply
       1. 

          C. M. Weller

          April 13, 2021

          Wraithvine is never friendless for long. Ze counts a lot of adoptees as hir children, and ‘drops in’ on the relatives from time to time… and the descendants of those relatives… for centuries on end.

          Wraithvine chooses joy. Every time. A mind and heart motivated to improve the world kind of has to.

          Reply
    2. 

       Adrian Solorio

       April 13, 2021

       Well done with the Third Person Omni. The narrative was clear and nothing got confused. I would have liked to see a line, maybe a snippet of sound, or something to give us a visual of Pondermoore turning on her comrades:

       “Thunk” and “Crack” and the ogres collapsed.

       Limitations though! Pondermoore and Wraithvine seem set to be friends for a long time. I wonder what their next adventure will bring? Maybe they’ll have a Holmes-Watson relationship 😂

       Reply
       1. 

          C. M. Weller

          April 14, 2021

          Well, if Holmes was teaching Watson how to improve the world by varying means, then yeah, I can see that 😀

          For the record, Wraithvine doesn’t really do any inebriants stronger than wine, and maybe smokes the odd bit of dandelion when things are really stressful. Though things are very rarely stressful. Ze has like… thousands of plans.

          Reply
    3. 

       Makokam

       April 17, 2021

       The Adventures of Wraithvine The Eternal Elf and Pondermoore The Clever Ogre sounds like a great book.

       Reply
       1. 

          C. M. Weller

          April 18, 2021

          More like Wraithvine the Doctor Who Expy and his Parade of Companions lol

          Reply
23. 

    Calliope Rannis

    April 12, 2021

    His Greatest Betrayal (Mary’s Story)
    By Calliope Rannis

    I…

    I’m…ugh…

    I’m…awake. My eyes flicker open. Gray stone ceiling, arched and held by pillars. The great hall? Why am I here?

    I have to get up. I don’t care how much it hurts. I pull myself up into a sitting position, and the pain…never comes?

    “Ah, you’re finally awake.”

    I turn my stiff head to see Father. He looks like a shadow of himself. His skin, hair – even his eyes? – are all grey and worn, and his robes are filthy with dust. But there is an uneven, twitchy smile on his face.

    “Father…” my voice heaves out of my throat like tar. My mouth feels as dry as burnt bark. “You…were right!…I don’t feel any pain…how?”

    His bent smile widens. “I told you, my dear. I told you I would find a cure for your awful affliction, and now I have.” Father’s eyes go bright with mania. “The disease is dead! Dead! And you are freed of its chains forevermore!”

    I try to share his joy. I should be happy, right? My suffering is over. But I just feel hollow.

    “Here. I have a gift for you. One to celebrate our victory over cruel Nature.” He gives me a bouquet of wildflowers, with various shades of white, grey and black, and nearly scentless.

    Wait.

    No.

    I know these flowers. I picked them again and again from the woods outside.

    These flowers should be reds, and blues and purples and yellows and all those vibrant colours of life. Their scents should be flooding my nose. They shouldn’t be like this!

    And then I realise something. They haven’t changed. They still have their colours. They still have their scent.

    But I don’t. My eyes are wrong. My nose is wrong.

    “What…What did you do to me?”

    “Oh Mary, don’t be scared. You don’t need to worry. You need not fear pain, or disease, or even the torment of aging anymore. I have taken them all away. Now, you are free to live.”

    What? Wait, no, he can’t – I can’t –

    …I can’t hear my heartbeat…

    Reply
    1. 

       Arith_Winterfell

       April 12, 2021

       Knowing Mary’s background so well, I have to say this story is really awesome! I love all the details, especially the bit about the flowers where it slowly dawns on her that her sense of smell and sight have changed. Also really good were the details about her father, exploring how his work has changed him, and how Mary’s has that interplay of relationship between herself and her father. Lastly, its just really fun to see more of Mary’s background really “brought to life” and explored in this really good scene. Great work!

       Reply
    2. 

       C. M. Weller

       April 12, 2021

       Considering I’m the instigator of this prompt, I never thought of Technically Undead as Functionally Immortal.

       This is more like “alive… but”. Alive, but not totally. Alive, but you had to die first. Alive, but you can’t really LIVE. Alive… but there’s not much point.

       Also strong shades of “Who wants to live forever” because now she’s deathless, she gets to not only not appreciate the little things any more, but also watch everyone she knows fade, wither, and perish. Very much slow sock in the gut to the emotions. I appreciate it.

       Reply
    3. 

       Connor A.

       April 13, 2021

       This piece has a quiet sense of brutality to it. Quiet because nothing is jumping at the reader’s face, but brutal because it reveals a dark nature to the relationship between this father and daughter; one where the father was more than willing to take away what makes people alive if it meant not having to part ways with her. Great job!

       Reply
    4. 

       Mike D

       April 13, 2021

       I read some of the other comments on this post. I’m new here, but it sounds like this is a piece of a universe you already write about. This post makes me want to read more of your work. Thank you for sharing it.

       Reply
    5. 

       Alex

       April 14, 2021

       That ending has quite the gut punch. I did not expect it, I must say. Given Mary’s love of flowers and nature, this makes the end even more tragic. Sure, she’s alive and no longer disease ridden, but at the price of being cut off from her favorite flowers.

       I really love how you manage tonal shifts. They are difficult enough to do in a longer story, but here you manage to go from ominous, to hopeful and joyous, back to ominous and finally end on the most tragic note. What a roller-coaster in 350 words. Mary may be healed, but I still feel so sorry for her.

       Amazing story!

       Reply
    6. 

       Marx

       April 14, 2021

       Oof! This one hits hard. I will say that I laughed initially when I saw that it was a Mary story, because that alone is perfect for the prompt. To the extent that I wish I would have guessed it ahead of time. That said, the moment she didn’t know where she was, I got this immediate feeling of dread, especially with this being in first person.

       You wrote it wonderfully. I loved that Mary was initially happy. And that does make sense. The first thing she would notice would be the lack of pain. You did a great job with slowly escalating the problems. First, she didn’t feel excitement when she should have and then it was everything with the flowers, and finally capping that off with the lack of a heartbeat.

       Given everything that I know about her father though, his wording of her being free to live comes off especially hollow in every sense of the term. Great take on the prompt!

       Reply
24. 

    Nicki Snyder

    April 12, 2021

    Every Word Matters
    by: Nicki Snyder aka cannibalbananas

    With a heavy sigh, Anne finishes writing down the last word. The side of her hand hurts. She rubs the cramped muscles as she stares down at the page. Knowing the ink is dry, but needing to make sure, Anne blows across the paper. She pauses in the massage of her hand and tentatively touches a few of the words.

    No ink comes off or smears, and she nods in satisfaction.

    With her non-dominant hand, Anne closes the book, picks it up, and places it into the fire and water proof chest on the floor. She uses her foot to kick the lid down before stooping to fasten the thick lock. She tugs on it, ensuring it’s sealed, and shoves it into the wall of the mausoleum.

    As she leaves, Anne glances back at the crypt once more. She hopes this will buy her another 100 years. If only the fae that granted her immortality wasn’t so specific about what medium she had to use to write her story on, this would be far easier now a days. She could have multiple copies backuped in the cloud, on a flash drive, and on a hard drive, for extra measure. Rewriting her tale and her predecessor’s tale would be as easy as copy and pasting.

    Anne heaves another heavy sigh and walks back towards her life, a life she tries to live as mundane as possible. But it’s hard. There is still so much traveling she wants to do. And every time she does, she has delightful new experiences and meets such wonderful people, that it nearly makes the task of recording it all worth it. Nearly.

    She rubs her hand again. This pain is the least of it. Should she ever forget something worth mentioning again… she shudders as she remembers wounds that had formed when words were skipped. With a grimace at the memory, Anne climbs into her car and drives back home.

    Reply
    1. 

       C. M. Weller

       April 12, 2021

       ::joins the chorus:: “Never f*ck with the Fae!”

       If only Anne knew about Cricut and its ability to pilot a pen around according to a set of pathing instructions. Then all she’d have to do is bind the thing. [I’m a nerd, we learn about cool tech solutions to problems that may or may not exist]

       Edit note, I’m pretty sure when talking about multiple things with the same suffix it’s word1- and word2-suffix. I remember seeing that somewhere. I’m willing to be wrong about it though.

       It may well be a punctuation convention that’s fallen to the wayside after 1980-something. Grain of salt.

       Reply
       1. 

          Iceburgh69

          April 14, 2021

          “Edit note, I’m pretty sure when talking about multiple things with the same suffix it’s word1- and word2-suffix. I remember seeing that somewhere. I’m willing to be wrong about it though.”

          That’s how I usually do it. Like “pre- and post-mortem.”

          Reply
    2. 

       Marx

       April 15, 2021

       Oh wow. I can’t help but to think, yeah, the fae do be like that though lol. I’d assume she can’t write things down digitally and then copy it onto paper later.

       This is such good twist on immortality that Anne has to live a boring life, because the more interesting it is, the more she has to remember and the more of a chance that she’ll mess up. That’s a very intriguing take on the prompt. I would definitely say this fits the curse that’s wrapped like a gift sort of deal that you associate with the Fae. Very well done!

       Reply
25. 

    ThatWeirdFish

    April 12, 2021

    The Shepherd (Repost from Private)
    By ThatWeirdFish

    Their Master and guarding place had long since been stolen by Death and their accomplice, Time. Yet that didn’t phase the golem. Nothing did.

    The golem watched over the herd. These creatures were strange beasts, unlike any the golem had seen in the Melania of its existence. Yet, they were the last living creatures that the golem could perceive beside themself. That caused something besides the eternal instinct to protect to keep the golem there. Some longing that the golem could not understand.

    A playful tap of a stick against their leg drew the golem back from their musings. Beside them, the youngest of the herd waited with a wriggling tail. The golem smiled at the memory of the Master’s son playing the same game with another creature.

    “Fetch?” The golem asked, bending down to grab the stick. The youngling yipped and hopped in place. With a gentle toss, the branch flew across the field, a blur of scales close behind. A pang of sadness hit the golem as it watched the youngling stumble through a pile of bones on its return. The sight reminded him of the truth.

    These creatures will die. Like everything else around the golem, Time and Death will steal them away. He could feel the gods’ eyes on him and heard their mutterings in god-tongue. They were talking about the golem again.

    The golem couldn’t understand the words, but they knew what they meant. It was a wager. A wager on how long the golem would live.

    “Clay life-bearer.” The golem startled and dropped the stick. It was unusual for the gods to address the living, especially this one. “Do not be afraid, I-”

    “I know too well who you are, Death.” The golem replied and turned to face the Old Ones.

    “Well. That simplifies things.” Death regained their composure and addressed the golem again. “Tell us, clay life-bearer, the inscription on your chest.”

    “As long as there is light, be whole and full of life.”

    Death grinned and nudged the disgruntled Time. “Thank you, immortal one.”

    Reply
    1. 

       Alex

       April 13, 2021

       Aw. I like the golem. They feel so at ease and happy with their animals. It might just be a kind of spell or programming, but there is still something peaceful about the golem. Yet, especially in the later sections, they seem almost sad in a way. It’s almost like the golem is continuing their watch because they have to, not necessarily because they want to.

       Like I said, there are two sides I can see in this. The golem, who is happy and at peace with their job and the golem, who is lonely and very aware that everything around them dies. This poignancy really makes me want to give this golem an immortal clay dog to play with until the end.

       Great story!

       Reply
    2. 

       Neurotoxin

       April 14, 2021

       The sheer power of loneliness is something that I always comeback to and I love how you’ve touched on such a subject with your writing. Someone who has yearned for the accompaniment of another being finally being fulfilled yet knowing that he will outlast them. The golem somewhat clings on to such a fleeting moment which greatly relates to our own feelings of being alone. Humans are so obviously social animals, take away the social aspects of our life and we almost seem to lose ourselves to the darkness. And yet such endeavors are mocked by those who do not suffer such a fate, which is represented by the gods simply watching him as a game. Parallels like this can be drawn to deemed outcasts and less fortunate people being mocked by their polar opposite. Overall excellent piece.

       Reply
26. 

    Connor A.

    April 12, 2021

    Complicated Questions (Sword Isles)
    By Connor A.
    (TW: Brief implication of abuse)

    Jen sat in front of the fire in silence. It was an uncomfortable sight for Oberon. Not as uncomfortable as the fact that they were outside of the city without proper protection from the weather or wildlife, but close.

    He passed a small bowl of cooked meat to them and watched as they nodded in thanks.

    “I did not think you would have the courage to leave the city,” Oberon finally spoke, keeping a growing concern out of his voice. “The entrance guards are skilled.”

    Jen’s grip around the bowl tightened. “Can…”

    “Sorry?”

    Jen took a shaky breath. “Can gods… die?”

    Oberon’s throat tightened. “What led you to have such a question?”

    The human flinched at the tone of his voice. Their hands shook at an unspoken memory and tears gathered in their eyes, threatening to fall at any moment.

    The sight left Oberon with a pang of guilt. This child needed the kind of support he could not provide. Still, he moved around the fire and sat next to Jen. He stiffened as they leaned on him, but did not move them. “Life and death is… complicated for gods. For the Isles at least, we have the Rule of the Land to worry about.”

    Jen wiped away their tears. “The… what?”

    “In this case, ‘The gods serve the land, and the land serves the gods.’ If we do not serve it, the land strips away our connections to existence. In a human sense, we would still be alive. To us, it is death.”

    Oberon moved a piece of Jen’s hair so it would not touch their meat.

    “I never cared to learn about the dust god, so I do not know how he is staying tethered to this world. But I do know that he is on the brink of death. No god can survive five hundred years of this kind of onslaught.”

    Jen lifted their head. “Can I stay here for the night?”

    He gave a single nod. “I will return you before dawn.”

    “Thanks.”

    Reply
    1. 

       Lunabear

       April 13, 2021

       Connor, I love this story. The way in which you focus on emotion is really well done. What really hit me with this story is the fact that the Oberon is a god (I’m assuming), and even though he is not used to giving comfort or support, he still does a really great job with Jen.

       I also really enjoy the way that you portray death for the gods. The description of it is delivered with such quiet, but there’s still a weight to it. It carries a lot of gravity, and it’s really easy to see how much it affects Oberon.

       Critique:

       Their hands shook at an unspoken memory and tears gathered in their eyes, threatening to to fall at any moment. (Delete a ‘to’).

       The World building you’re doing here is really awesome, and I hope to see more of Oberon. He’s very interesting character. I really like his and Jen’s dynamic, as well. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing it.

       Reply
       1. 

          Connor A.

          April 13, 2021

          Thanks for catching that second “to.” I never really considered how gods could die before this prompt, so it was a good exercise. It did turn the Isles into a bit of an eldritch horror, so that is something I will (gladly) contemplate in the near future.
          Oberon is a fun god to write about because he’s a bit of a contradiction. He’s a hermit that has a deep distrust in humans, but he loves company and took two humans under his wing (Jen and another human I don’t think I’ve talked about yet). He definitely will have a lot of exploration in the future.

          Reply
    2. 

       Marx

       April 17, 2021

       I totally love this sort of thing. Both that the previous prompt moved into this one(or at least it feels that way lol) and the rules of godhood when it comes to death. I like that there’s a mutual hierarchy between deities the land they reside. It’s also sweet to see the growing relationship between Oberon and Jen and how uncomfortable he is with it, while still being accepting of them. You built it up very well. Great story!

       Reply
       1. 

          Connor A.

          April 17, 2021

          Thanks! Oberon and Jen’s relationship was a pretty new development meta-wise, so it’s good to see it’s working out. One way I want to explore it in the future is to showcase Jen’s relationship with Hardrock; there are enough differences that will hopefully show why Jen seeks answers from Oberon more than their own “guardian,” for lack of a better term.

          Reply
27. 

    Marx

    April 12, 2021

    Curiosity Killed the Cat, You Know…
    By Marx

    Will raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re dating Death?”

    Matt blushed slightly and looked away. “We’re not dating! It’s just this… whole thing. We’re apparently… destined or something like that.”

    Will nodded. “Is she, like… a death goddess or…”

    “No.” Matt shook his head. “The actual concept of death didn’t exist until she did…”

    “Wow… older woman. I can dig it.” Will stated, grinning at Matt’s responding glare.

    “Now if we could change the subject-”

    “What’s she like?” Will asked, genuinely curious.

    Matt looked down, lost in thought. “She’s… intense… And downright terrifying… Now, if we could PLEASE change the-?”

    “Wait! Wait! Does that mean you can’t die? Or do you have to die to go on dates and stuff and she just brings you back? How does dating Death work exactly?”

    Matt’s glare intensified. “We. Are. Not. Dating. I’ve only met her twice.” He sighed as he realized Will was still waiting for an answer to the rest of it. “Look, I can die, alright? Technically… She just… doesn’t let it stick…”

    Will’s eyes bulged. “So, if I decapitated you right now, you wouldn’t die?”

    Matt’s glare immediately returned with a dark edge to it.

    “Dude, relax!” Will threw up his hands in surrender. “I’m only half demon, remember? I don’t have anywhere NEAR the juice to kill you. I was talking theoretically.”

    Matt’s intense look remained. “About a month ago, an unexplainable fear overtook you. You didn’t know why, but you knew something was wrong and it scared you shitless.”

    Will paused as his expression became worried. “How-?”

    “A month ago, someone almost killed me and Death struck them down so hard the entire world felt it.”

    “…damn…”

    “Yeah. Damn.” Matt grumbled, “Do not joke about that. I don’t know how much of a sense of humor she has and… she’s Death, so… she’s kind of everywhere at once.”

    Will nodded back. “So… is she hot?”

    “I literally JUST said-” Matt began before pausing as his eyes darted to the corner of the room. “…I’m not… answering… that…”

    Will followed Matt’s glance, seeing nothing. “Is she-?”

    “Change. The. SUBJECT!”

    Reply
    1. 

       Nicki Snyder

       April 12, 2021

       Funny! I love the humor Will brings to the story, while poor Matt is trying to be serious and wrap his head around the enormity of it all.

       Like Will, I’m also curious how Matt met Death. Did she have other partners before now? She has been around for a long time.

       Reply
       1. 

          Marx

          April 14, 2021

          Thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoyed it. Lol and I think part of the fun of this piece is that I tried to have Will ask the questions most people would be curious about if they found out someone was dating the literal embodiment of death. To answer your question though, Matt would indeed be her first and only partner. Kind of. As you can see, he hasn’t exactly accepted her advances yet so it’s a little one-sided for her at the moment.

          Reply
    2. 

       Arith_Winterfell

       April 12, 2021

       This story was interesting Marx, exploring how Matt’s relationship with death causes all sorts of interesting problems, chief among them of course our week’s prompt his functional immortality. I really liked the interesting layer that death could smite someone so hard it could be felt across the world by different people. The layer of her potentially being everywhere, watching, and with the power to kill. It sounds like an almost dystopian tyranny in some ways. This will really all depend on how Matt reciprocates Death’s feelings, if he loves her back it will be interesting, if he can’t feel the same way she feels about him, then it could get really dark! An interesting and solid piece Marx! Well done!

       Reply
       1. 

          Marx

          April 14, 2021

          That’s exactly the feeling I wanted to get across lol. I did clearly want this to be funny of course, but the fact that Death is in a way always around and sees herself as fated to be with him is a bit terrifying. And there is a lot of ways I could go with that dynamic. Especially since Death is clearly the more powerful of the two. Thanks for the review!

          Reply
    3. 

       Connor A.

       April 13, 2021

       Not gonna lie, I think my friends and I would have a conversation like this. The piece accomplishes two things that I noticed: it clarifies an important aspect of one of Matt’s character relationships, and it gives Matt a much-deserved break in the form of a more lighthearted conversation (relative to the rest of Matt’s life). As always, I loved your piece.

       Reply
       1. 

          Marx

          April 14, 2021

          Lol I’m really glad it came across that way. I did really want this conversation to come off as casual as possible. It does say something about Matt’s life that a discussion that involves Death smacking down someone so hard the world felt it comes off as lighthearted. Though Will does have a lot to do with that. Poor guy does deserve a break every now and then.

          Reply
    4. 

       Lunabear

       April 13, 2021

       Man, oh, man, Marx! I never tire of these works you do. Especially in this universe. It’s cool to see Will integrated into the team. Intrusive as hell questions, but most definitely funny reactions from Matt. I don’t blame for not wanting to say too much about Death.

       I love how Death herself can bestow immortality upon Matt that way. Very handy. If their relationship isn’t built upon romance, then is it built on necessity? I know you’ve explained this, but I’m having a hard time remembering. Matt’s the ultimate decider of the world’s fate, right?

       I really love this hysterical, intense story. Great piece. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing it.

       Reply
       1. 

          Marx

          April 14, 2021

          Matt and Death’s relationship is kind of… complicated. She knows that they are more or less soulmates and she has basically been waiting for him. But she’s also aware(because she’s everywhere at once) that he needs time to see her that way because he sees the world as a person would, whereas she sees the world like Death would, so they’re just at different places mentally.

          And that does extend to Matt indeed being the ultimate decider of the world’s fate, which also makes their relationship awkward. For all he knows, fully accepting Death could doom the world.

          Reply
    5. 

       Neurotoxin

       April 14, 2021

       I really enjoy the natural dialogue between these characters, with it being so easy to follow and getting a good grasp on the relationship between these characters. The plot too is an interesting one, flipping what is normally perceived as a detached construct to something seemingly humanized. This writing makes me want to learn more about the characters and story, serving as an excellent introduction to what I could see becoming a full on book.

       Reply
       1. 

          Marx

          April 14, 2021

          Thank you so much! A full book is indeed the end goal. Kind of just having fun with the idea at the moment and experimenting. But with the 30+ stories I’ve done here in it so far, I’m really glad this comes across as an introduction. Lol it’s always the intention but I’m not always sure how well I succeed in doing that for the people who don’t read week to week.

          Reply
    6. 

       Calliope Rannis

       April 14, 2021

       While humour is often part of your stories in this universe, it’s particuarly strong here. Will has some great funny lines, and the fact that the whole conversation is about Death, a Super Serious Subject that Matt wants to be treated as such, makes it all the more funny when Will just keeps being flippant about it. Especially asking ‘is she hot?’ *after* being told about her annihilating someone so hard that everyone in the world felt it. XD

       Just generally, the contrast between the casual, devil-may-care attitude of Will and the serious straight-man of Matt absolutely makes this story shine. And the fact that Death is *totally* evesdropping on all of this too is a fun thing to think about too. Especially however he reacted to the ‘is she hot?’ line, which I for one am also interested in Matt’s opinion on. 😛

       Great and hilarious story Marx! ^w^

       Reply
    7. 

       Makokam

       April 17, 2021

       Being able to be killed but having Death waiting on the other side to pat you on the head and send you back is quite possibly the most literal “functional immortality” the world is likely to see outside of whatever jellyfish have going on.

       Matt’s frustration and embarrassment about the whole situation is delicious. I can only assume this is the first time someone was brought into their group without already knowing something of what’s going on with him.

       Was the guy who got smote Alex?

       Reply
       1. 

          Marx

          April 17, 2021

          Lol oh no. Alex is much too bright to try to kill Matt. The one Death made an example out of was Lynette.

          And you’re right. For the most part when people are brought into Matt’s circle, they’re either aware of the situation and that’s why they’re there or they were added as the situations happened. But Will and his group just kind of dropped in, so they all had to be caught up.

          Thank you so much for your review! I’m glad you liked it!

          Reply
28. 

    Alex

    April 12, 2021

    The Apex Predator (Darkspell Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    We’re just flesh to him.

    It’s cold. So cold. Like ice down my spine. That’s how I would describe the breath of this monster… No, not monster. That would be inaccurate. Predator sounds better. This predator, who treats us like we treat chickens on a spit.

    How should I start? How do you… describe something like this creature that calls itself Yuri? What words would suffice?

    I’ll start with what I saw. He is thoroughly unremarkable. That is it. It’s all I can say. I would compare him to a man in a suit or some kid on the street corner, but that wouldn’t do him justice. Those people have something about them to identify themselves. Yuri has… nothing. It’s not even that he has no features. No that would make him stand out. Fact is, he’s just… thoroughly unremarkable.

    And that’s all there is to it.

    How do I describe what he does? Have you ever had a splinter in your flesh? Or a spike? And then, without warning, it is wrenched out, along with chunks of your body. That is almost what it feels like to have your soul ripped from you.

    No one really knows what the soul is. We use it, harness it for spells, but what exactly is it? Popular theories suggest that it is a kind of backup, a safety drive for you to go to, should your body fail. But that can’t be it. The hard drive should still be working, when the backup is removed, right? But I felt myself die. I felt my body give out, as I was pulled out of it.

    And yet, somehow, I still live. I live in this… silent, cold void, alone with my thoughts. If the gods are merciful, maybe they’ll relay these… thoughts I have. If anyone even listens.

    I am… immortal. I don’t know if I can die again, in this void. Stuck forever in this dark oblivion. No feeling, no sensation. I am alone. Alone with… Yuri. Or whatever his name really is.

    Reply
    1. 

       Connor A.

       April 13, 2021

       Yuri lore! When you mentioned that you would write a piece about him, I half-expected it to follow Yuri and how he came to be, but talking about him through the lens of one of his victims was fascinating. The description of how Yuri rips souls out of people’s bodies was an amazing touch. Great job all around!

       Reply
       1. 

          Alex

          April 14, 2021

          Thank you for your review! I’ll admit, I was tempted to show a backstory for Yuri, but I think it better to keep it mysterious for the time being. Instead, I wanted to highlight what happens to a soul, once Yuri devours it.

          Reply
    2. 

       Lunabear

       April 13, 2021

       I really enjoy the story, Alex. You could have so easily had Yuri bragging about how he was immortal and how he’s the best being ever and how he is going to take all the souls he wants because he’s just that much of a boss. Instead, you perspective shifted to a soul he has already consumed. The speculation of the kind of being Yuri is is really well done.

       And you could have just as easily made the soul crossover into the Afterlife. But I like that because this person was consumed by Yuri, then they stay in not exactly an in-between, but a nothingness. That in and of itself is incredibly terrifying. But to have to be stuck in the nothingness with Yuri is even more horrendous. And it would appear that no matter how many souls Yuri consumes, the souls remain out of connection with each other. They don’t float around in this either together.

       Crazy powerful stuff. Absolutely love it. This does bring up the question for me if it is possible to kill Yuri, then is it possible to return the souls back to their bodies, given post-mortem and decomposition, that is. Excellent job. Thank you so so much for writing and sharing this.

       Reply