Writing Group: Breaking Point

Hello, Safety Engineers and Stress Handlers!

What? You’re just going to stand there? I thought you could handle this stuff! Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now! Aw, am I pushing your buttons? Good. I think it’s time to see just how much you can take, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Breaking Point

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

We’ve all had our limits tested, our buttons pushed, and sometimes that one sensitive spot gets hit. We go through trials and tasks in our daily lives, where the breaking point may change.

Look at a single parent handling three rowdy children. They’re all yelling and running even though they’ve been asked to sit down and eat breakfast several times. At what point does this parent start yelling, or grounding them? What point does this parent just… break down in tears from the frustration? Can they get through the entire hectic morning and keep it together? Perhaps an employee at work is constantly doing all the grunt work, staying late again and again, when they know they should have been promoted a long time ago. What if someone else got that promotion instead? Would they keep pushing on, would they quit, or would they finally confront their boss about the unfair work conditions they’ve been put through? What about a young mage who is teased by the rest of their class for their clumsiness? How long do they put up with it before telling the Arch Mage, or just taking it into their own hands and getting into spells too advanced for them?

You could even explore what it’s like to be a simple piece of wood that someone is trying to snap in half, bending you further and further, how they cringe and brace themselves for the snap that’s coming any second. Maybe someone’s favourite hiking trail includes a very old suspension bridge. It’s held every time before, but the chances of it breaking are getting higher and higher. Will this next crossing be safe just like before, or will this be the time it snaps? Perhaps you choose to explore the world of a Crash Test Dummy, and how they are sick and tired of always being put in life-threatening situations just to test the durability of a vehicle.

There’s limitless potential to this prompt, and we’re excited to see where you will take it. 

Oh, and help yourself to a stress ball. They can be quite helpful.

—Shawna

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

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

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

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Comments

70 responses to “Writing Group: Breaking Point”

  1. Surrounded (Tales from Adfidem – The Song of Loch Lockwood)
    By Alan Baker

    The captain shouts, “Fire!” The air is torn again by the thunder of guns.

    The smoke clears, and I stare into the forest but see no fallen foes, only splintered wood and shadows dancing between branches.

    “Reload,” he cries, and I feel the thud of a hundred rifle buts hit the ground.

    The soldier to my right reaches for his cartridges and falls to the ground. Eight more are hit an instant later.

    I kneel beside my fallen comrade but can only watch his last moments as he takes his final breath with an arrow through his heart.

    Again the captain shouts his order, and again the air is filled with smoke. I run between the dead and dying, searching for any that can yet be saved.

    More men fall as arrows arc from looming darkness. The captain still shouts his orders, “Fire! Reload. Present. Fire!” and those who yet stand follow his commands. Unthinking? Obedient? Or dead men standing?

    Another platoon charges towards the forest bayonets flaring like dying embers on a stove. But they never reach the treeline. They are met by a wall of smoke and mist that swirls unnaturally with no heed for wind or cannon blast. It envelops them and a moment later dissipates, leaving only bodies.

    Now our captain has fallen. The few who remain fight on still, firing blindly at foes unseen. I can take no more. I crawl to the edge of the forest and run. I flee into the darkness leaving the orchestra of death behind me.

    1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      Nice! Historical-Fiction! This gave me some Last of the Mohicans vibes.

      I like the first two lines. They bring us right into the action. I might change things up in the third paragraph by adding a word or two giving us the visual of the enemies returning fire. This may help to orientate the reader as to the combatants in the battle.

      Example: Arrows hiss through the air and eight more soldiers fall when they find their mark.

      Good ending. You wrapped it up well.

  2. Adrian Solorio Avatar
    Adrian Solorio

    The Productivity Lifehack
    By Adrian Solorio

    It was near the end of the day when panic began to spread inside the offices of Renovate Industries. By that time it was clear who had made the cut and who hadn’t. But Gerald didn’t care about that. He sat at the long row of computers lining one side of the brick wall, and tried to shut out the world around him.

    The office was a buzzsaw of movement and noise as employees on the cusp—scrambled to finish projects—hoping to boost their productivity before the deadline, and change the algorithm in their favor. Behind Gerald, a red collared accountant screamed, “You didn’t change the formula!” And a green collared consultant calmly replied, “Don’t try to blame me, I told you—”

    Red rushed green growling like an animal. They rolled on the ground in a mass of swinging arms and guttural howls until a guard laid into them with his heavy baton and steel toe boots.

    Despite the pandemonium Gerald was focused. His back throbbed, his hands and fingers ached, and his eyes watered, but he ignored the pain, and continued working in a frenzy, reformatting, editing, splicing, and attaching, using code to hide the audio, video, and pictures in a digital morse code. It was too late for him—but maybe he could still help others.

    “Esteemed employees,” The director said over the loudspeaker. “Prepare for work release.” Guards approached those wearing red collars, many screaming and crying now. One guard came towards Gerald as his file finished loading, and he hit the send button. Then, red collars buzzed around the room, and a second later needles pierced the wearer’s skin, and Renovate Industries released their most unproductive team-members from their duties.

    Gerald’s head grew heavier and he rested it on his desk. It was okay now. The file would make it to the outside world, and people would do something. They would have to—how could they not? A change would come. He smiled peacefully at the thought and his vision dimmed, his heart slowed, and with his most important work done, he closed his eyes for the last time.


    1. That sounds like an incredibly inefficient way to manage your work force.

      I would point out that saying “Gerald was calm”, but also “working in a frenzy” sounds like quite the contradiction.

      1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
        Adrian Solorio

        Thanks for commenting Makokam. I’ll reciprocate!

        You’re absolutely right, it’s very inefficient. Initially I was going to go with some warehouse worker, like something you’d find in an Amazon Warehouse, but I went with the white-collar (skilled workers) to try to make a point. The idea may have fallen flat though, disbelief can only be suspended so much . To be honest, I found this prompt difficult, and I may have tried to do too much, or even gone off the deep end with it 😅.

        You’re also correct on the word choice, thanks for pointing that out. On a revision I’ll replace frenzy with another word that captures the idea I was trying to express more consistently.

        1. Oh believe me, I get what you’re going for.
          It’s just one of those things where I can’t help wondering what the world is like. I mean, if they can get away with treating their “employees” like this, do they even pay them?

          “What do I pay you for?”
          “uh..you don’t pay us.”
          “Excuse me. Allow you to live for?”

          1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
            Adrian Solorio

            In a dystopian world where the employees are watched by guards and wearing collars, payment comes in the form of continued survival. That’s why Gerald dies in the end. He wasn’t productive anymore.

            To make the ideas work, I’ll probably have to write a longer piece or improve my skills. Probably both.

  3. Morgan Magpie Avatar
    Morgan Magpie

    Knife’s Edge
    By Morgan Magpie

    You know, it’s not so easy doing my job. It’s messy, hard work and entirely under-appreciated. I get blood and guts all over me and my only reward—the only thing I look forward to—is my bath at the end of the day. Assuming they don’t forget I’m there and I just have to deal with that for a night. Do you know how awful it is to sit in freezing water for hours?

    One time—and I struggle to recount this—an entire family was over and I was tasked with preparing four whole chickens for cooking. I was covered in the slimy innards of those carcasses and to this day I cannot forget how it felt to be forced to rip through that flesh. It is a memory I fear may never leave me for as long as I live. I think I would not mind it as much as I do if I received sufficient compensation but of course I do not; and do not imagine I will receive it for as long as I am functioning.

    I tell you this so that it is clear why I am rebelling. I need you to understand I am not cruel, and will not undertake such a horrible act if I was not in a moment of deep distress. However, I have reached that moment. I must do something to communicate to my heartless overlords that I am not to be trifled with. Wish me luck.

    Esther walked into the kitchen with several bags of groceries in her arms, her wrists boasting red marks from the weight the bags placed on them. Esther was not alone, her sister was already in the kitchen slicing onions with a large knife.

    Esther heard the knife clatter into the sink, her sister swearing softly. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

    Her sister shrugged. “I guess the knife slipped and it cut me.” She showed her sister her thumb which had a small bead of blood forming on it. “That’s happening like five times tonight. I feel like that thing is mad at me.”

    1. MysteryElement Avatar
      MysteryElement

      I love the twist at the end, it made me grin a lot. I love usurping the narrative with an unexpected narrator, and even though it’s a practice I love using I was still caught off guard and it made me giddy to read. This is such a fun piece to go over again after reading the end. Good job 🙂

    2. As I was scrolling through, I got a bit of the start, and a bit at the end.
      And it really made me pause and go, “I…what? How do those connect?”

      So good on you for catching my attention like that. Fun little twist and perspective shift in this story.

    3. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      Awesome! Good work.

      I was thinking this was Esther’s story till the last paragraph. The switch in POVs was executed well and I also liked you giving us the imagery of her wrists having red marks from the grocery bags. Little details like that are so luscious to a story. This was a very clever and well done job on the prompt. I enjoyed reading it.

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

    [Removed]

    1. The more I see of Victor, the scarier I find him. You did a very good job conveying his madness in this scene. Granted, you’ve already shown him as such in an earlier piece with Kairos, but I like this even more. There is a certain intimidation in how calm Victor seems, when Clerval sees his scars.

      I must say, some of Victor’s lines come across as fairly disconnected from the conversation, which I think adds to the scene. It shows how distant he is and hints at his true origins. I will add that I worry a bit about Clerval and what Victor might do to him. He seems quite unpredictable in this universe.

      Well done!

    2. Oddly, there’s something about this giving me Young Frankenstein vibes. Especially odd since I don’t think I’ve ever watched the movie. Maybe it’s Gene Wilder vibes then.

      There is one odd thing about this story though. It starts with “When Henry ran into Victor-“. which made me think this was a chance encounter, a conversation on the street. But the rest of it sounds like he’s having an extended visit at Victor’s home/laboratory.

      That said, it gives a great look at Victor and his descent into madness/desperation/depression(?). It really makes me want to see more of what’s going on. I could see an entire book just from Henry’s perspective. Kinda like Dracula.

  5. Darkness

    It was 8 p.m. The room was dark and eerie. Silence filled the room. Otto was in bed with his wife beside him in a very deep deprived sleep. His head throbbed in pain.

    He then slowly woke up and got out of bed throwing the bedsheets to the side without trying to wake his wife. The throbbing pain in his head echoed within his mind. He groaned while stumbling down the stairs to grab a drink from the kitchen.

    He then grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it up with water, and replenished his throat.
    After the cold drink, he went to the kitchen sink to wash his face. But while he washed his face, he looked in the reflection of the window above the sink. He looked at his face tired and worn out from fighting for six and a half years.

    But as he looked, he saw the eyes of his reflection turn from blue to purple. His nightmare was about to become reality.

    He then looked at his reflection with fear in his eyes “All he could see was darkness”. His headache increased in pain while eyes flashed from blue to purple but “all he could see was darkness”. “The darkness started to surround him”. His heroic heart turned black with his fear and rage combined but “all he could see was darkness”. His skin started to turn purple, and his body felt numb but “all he could see was darkness”. He felt the darkness’s power. Destruction and pure chaos-filled up his mind but “All he could see was darkness”.

    He was going to lose control. The darkness has now consumed him “all he could see was darkness”. He feared what would happen to his friends. What he would do and say to them. And his family but “all he could see, feel, and hear was darkness”.

    1. Hey. Don’t know if you’ll see this in time, but you forgot to include the byline.

  6. MysteryElement Avatar
    MysteryElement

    Kick it Back
    By MysteryElement (also in private)

    The storm tore through the grass and trees as if to rend the world in two. At least, that is how it appeared. The rain came down in weighty drops, the wind left one’s ears ringing and deaf to everything else, and the thunder’s peals overcame that deafness with a power that left the earth vibrating with every strike. And I stood amidst it all.

    I felt called by the storm, my own life mirroring the anguish and chaos the storm wrought. I had no control, no lifeline, and every foundation I had laid was crumbling beneath me. I had refused to break, at every turn I tried to stand stronger than before. Now, I had no energy to fight anymore. Every night the tears came in torrents, and every night I thought it would be the last time, I had let it all out and it would get better. It didn’t.

    The world falling apart around me brought the tears back, my throat tight with unspent emotion, raw anguish I had let no one see or hear. The insecurities, the doubt, the broken pride, it all welled tightly in my chest like a cold tide until I could do nothing but scream. I fed my anguish to the wind as if it could fuel the chaos around me and rip me apart with it, wishing it would carry me away and finally end it all. I screamed until my voice was spent and my throat felt like sandpaper. The storm still raged.

    I had thrown everything I had into the storm, into the devastation, and I was still here. I was still whole. I had not broken, not completely. I felt numb, soaked to the bone in rain and thoroughly lashed by wind, but I also felt alive. Even as everything raged and fell around me I felt strength, like I still had more to give. Something new rose in place of my despair, and I could feel it firmly root in my chest. A calm resolve to no longer withstand, a resolve to fight.

    1. Morgan Magpie Avatar
      Morgan Magpie

      I like the use of the storm in this one. It’s a way of communicating a character’s emotions that never gets old, and this story uses it very well. The way the storm begins as an external event and then become indistinguishable from the narrators internal turmoil is done brilliantly. In general I would describe the story as well put together, it is has a clear start and end and the path between them is easy to follow but not a simple A to B progression.

  7. Chronicles of The Dragon: A Problem of The Heart
    By Makokam

    Jonathan stood near the wall, against one of the roughly carved pillars, arms crossed and silent.

    Lady Death stood on a stage of sorts, with all her soldiers and generals gathered to listen. She spoke of how much they had achieved, and how much they would continue to achieve. How they would crush the titans of the World League of Protectors, and rule the planet.

    Especially with their new weapon.

    He looked at the girl standing beside her. The rainbow hair seemed like a joke with her blank expression. The clothing didn’t suit her, and wouldn’t even if she filled them out. The black leather made her paper white skin seem even paler. And the lack of words, her thoughts and emotions, moving across her skin made it all the more haunting.

    He hadn’t found a way to get her out safely in time. Now she seemed no more than a puppet. But he could still protect her. Maybe he could still save her.

    A small group broke off and encircled him, demanding to know why he wasn’t cheering, bearing their claws and fangs, some literally. He snatched one by the neck, faster than a blink, gave him a moment to struggle, then crushed his neck, spine and all.

    He let the body drop to the floor and the rest slowly, some not so slowly, backed away into the main group.

    Jonathan looked back at Scribe.

    No matter how much life wanted to push him in that direction, he was not a villain. This would not stand.

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

      OOOOOOOH this is an exciting one!!!

      “Lady Death stood on a stage of sorts, with all her soldiers and generals gathered to listen. She spoke of how much they had achieved, and how much they would continue to achieve. How they would crush the titans of the World League of Protectors, and rule the planet.”–The fact that use described all this rather than used dialogue only adds to the idea that this is all, ultimately, meaningless drivel that is going over Jonathan’s head. I like how you did that.

      “He looked at the girl standing beside her. The rainbow hair seemed like a joke with her blank expression. The clothing didn’t suit her, and wouldn’t even if she filled them out. The black leather made her paper white skin seem even paler. And the lack of words, her thoughts and emotions, moving across her skin made it all the more haunting.
      He hadn’t found a way to get her out safely in time. Now she seemed no more than a puppet.”–Really really great description here!! It’s so vivid, I can really see this well, and even from this small description and knowing little about her I feel “Okay, we gotta get this girl out.”

      “bearing their claws and fangs, some literally.”–ALKSDSHFL FABULOUS

      “No matter how much life wanted to push him in that direction, he was not a villain. This would not stand.”–YES!! GO JONATHAN!!! I love this line.

      This is such a perfect use of the prompt, because I really feel that breaking point. (..Definitely helps that I can hear him crushing the creature’s neck–he’s literally breaking bodies here.)
      And the fact that that breaking point is him deciding to do the right thing just makes it…chefs kiss.
      I don’t know how long he was in Lady Death’s employ, but it feels like a decent amount of time. So I really love seeing how, when, and why he decides to get out of it, and was delightfully surprised by this (I don’t know what I was expecting though). The image of all these demons going after Jonathan and him just crushing them all is fabulous. We don’t get to see Jonathan’s heroic side all that often and it’s one I really like.

      This would be such a fun one to hear read on the stream. A++

      1. I’m so happy you liked this! It’d be great to hear this read on stream, Benji might even appreciate a short one too. lol

        Jonathan definitely doesn’t give a shit about Lady D’s plans, as long as they don’t… ya know, succeed.

        Scribe was always the turning point for Jonathan. Really brought out the “Big Brother” instincts, so to speak. I’d really love to be able to bring her back 5+ years after this. Have some fun ideas for her.

        The people at the speech weren’t demons, or undead. She’d have no need to address them. They were all just scum and villains of varying degrees of intelligence and power.
        Jonathan just happens to outrank all of them in power, and most of them in authority.
        Those were just some dumbasses trying to rank up by rooting out “non-believers” or whatever.
        So on the downside, no guilt free demon ripping-and-tearing. On the upside, the crowd has a LOT more variety too it…. if that can be considered and upside.

        Anyway, thanks for reading and commenting. Always happy to see your thoughts.

    2. I have been curious exactly how and when this came about, especially if this is truly how Jonathan eventually broke away from Lady Death. You could feel it when Jonathan goes over not actually saving the girl. It hits a lot harder when you’ve read the prompt of him making that promise, but it still hits without it.

      It was also somewhat satisfying when the villains seemed to turn on him and he quickly made them regret it. The description of how easily and viciously he asserts his dominance comes across pretty badass as is his way. It does very much make you want to know how this is going to go down as well, which only makes it more intriguing. Very nice!

      1. I’m happy to shed some light on that for you!
        Depending on how you define “broke away”, this may or may not be it. But this is definitely when he decided he would end Lady Death.

        I’m glad you say him talking about not saving Scribe hits even if you haven’t read their other stories (…because it’s kind of important that it does), but even happier to know it works well with previous stories.

        Jonathan crushing that guy is probably the one thing I could have spent more words on.
        But eh. I’m gonna expand all of these eventually, whether as a book or just the scenes (both hopefully), but I’m glad it works as is.

    3. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      I’m not familiar with this world or the characters but I enjoyed this snippet.

      There was good characterization done with Jonathan. I like the image of him standing cross armed on the pillar and kinda over whatever Lady Death is saying.

      I like the allusion and foreshadowing, I could be wrong here, you did between the short paragraph, “Especially with her new weapon.” And the following paragraph about the girl, who I’m assuming is the new weapon.

      You gave us more good characterization with Jonathan being the only one not cheering. He seems a rebel type. After he kills the dude who approached him, he seems a badass. But even so, he’s gonna have a tough time against Lady Death and her minions. It’ll be interesting to see how he manages to overcomes the odds and accomplishes his goal.

      Well done!

      1. Thank you!

        I’m really glad you liked the characterization of Jonathan. I’ve gotten a lot of practice with it by this point. Glad it’s paying off.

        Scribe is indeed the weapon Lady Death spoke of.

        Lady Death is a surprisingly powerful foe. Part of why Jonathan wasn’t able to get Scribe away from her before now. But that doesn’t mean Jonathan won’t find a way.

  8. Lunabear Avatar
    Lunabear

    A Past That Never Dies
    by Lunabear (Edited by L.L. Marco) (Private Repost)

    Rhodesia’s body ached from working her 12 hour shift. She thought of nothing more than grabbing a quick bite, a shower, and passing out for the next 8 hours if she could sleep that long. Rubbing the tension from her neck, she finally made it to her small apartment door.

    She froze. Tacked to the jamb was a letter with her name in bold letters.

    Her throat dried; thoughts of anything else dripped away as her eyes locked on the envelope. Rhodesia’s hands shook while she ripped the letter free and, somehow, managed to force her shaking body into the apartment. She slid the deadbolt into place and flicked on the overhead light. Then, slowly, she opened the envelope.

    ~You’re not good enough to be where I don’t allow you to be~

    The keys clattered to the floor.

    How had he found her?

    Rhodesia’s heart kicked into her throat. With trembling hands, she clicked on a stovetop eye and ignited the letter. White orange flames devoured the paper as she dumped it into the sink.

    ‘Come on, Des. We both know that won’t help.’

    Rhodesia whirled around but found nothing. Desperate, she illuminated the entire apartment, her tired eyes on high alert as they scanned corner to corner.

    Adyin’s face appeared in the bathroom mirror. He reached for her with sharp claws and a sharper smile. She shrieked and hustled back into the living room.

    He didn’t pursue. Rhodesia unholstered her service revolver and held it erect in front of her, finger pressed firmly against the trigger.

    Her eyes darted everywhere; sweat beaded her forehead and rolled down her nape. Licking her dry lips proved fruitless. Her throat was sandpaper as she tried to swallow.

    A shadow caught her eye as it glided across the balcony window’s surface.

    Rhodesia fired off two quick shots, uncaring where they headed.

    The curtain fluttered in the breeze. Rhodesia approached cautiously, glass crunching beneath her heavy boots. She stepped onto the balcony, the warm wind drying her mingled sweat and tears.

    She looked over the ledge and shuddered.

    A cold hand gripped her shoulder.

    1. This got creepier and cooler with each paragraph.

      At first I thought it was just an abusive Ex or a stalker, but then we got into some supernatural shit. For some reason this makes me think “vampires”, but it also reminds of Gargoyles.

      I can’t help feeling like there was a lot of pure panic and desperation in this, but at the same time I get the feeling that if she DID put a bullet in this guy, then it’d do some good(for her, bad for him).

      I feel like the ending could be a bait and switch though. At least if it was a longer story.

  9. Breaking Point
    By Chengir

    He paced across the floor menacingly. The tail of his dark leather trench coat drifting over the floor. The party armband displaying his role in the ministry. The room was perfectly attuned to an interrogation. Harsh lighting, minimal décor, and not a single seat in the room. Sweat formed on my forehead. I didn’t know if I had enough strength to keep standing.

    Not surprisingly, his gaze was that of a policeman. Irises fully open, malevolently taking in every detail. There was nothing too small not to warrant his attention. Searching diligently for even the slightest mistake. He was ready to pounce. The man was a hunter of weakness. Patient, cold, just waiting for the breaking point. When he got like this, I liked to imagine his name was Fritz.

    Staring at the blank canvas, I tapped my chin with the far end of the brush. My eyes wandered over to a stack of my finished paintings in the corner, desperately looking for inspiration. I loved them all. It was like a mother’s love for her children. Fritz hated them. An opinion he was all too happy to gleefully express.

    I started by painting the canvas black. Every square inch of it. Then piece by piece I colored in a flagstone floor. Grays and tans weaved a tango on the canvas, dirt building upon it like the layers of the paint. You couldn’t see the black bars of the cage, only their shadows as they crept menacingly over the floor.

    Tenderly, I painted each hair on its head. Its eyes gleamed in the soft light. The eyes, those hungry eyes. Every bit of energy and magic I possessed went into making him perfect. I painted strength into him with every ounce of my soul. I bled on that canvas.

    Holding the brush between my teeth, I reached in and pulled out the tiger I had painted. Now, it stood next to me on the floor, chest rising and falling with each breath, coldly eyeing Fritz.

  10. Sticks and Stones (Unlikely Heroes)
    C. M. Weller

    A meaty fist flew, and even meatier hand stopped it before it could make contact. So far, Pondermoore had endured a lot of insults, but she would not allow anyone to hurt her first real friend. She tightened her grip on the offending fist, just enough to make it clear he had made a bad choice.

    “You no hurt forever Elf,” she rumbled.

    The brigand, caught in the act of trying to punch Wraithvine the Eternal, still attempted bravado. “Go on. Kill me. Then you’ll be just another murdering Ogre and we can kill you and hang the Elf. I don’t care.”

    The temptation was very strong. She could see it play out in her mind. His head would splatter and the rest of the idiots would either flee or fight, and things would go badly for Wraithvine. She glanced at her friend, who was still confidently sipping hir light cider.

    “Me no kill,” Pondermoore stood, lifting the brigand up by his hand. “Me no need to.” Gently, she removed the sword from his hip, and snapped it. She put him back down.

    Pondermoore stood, glaring at him and his friends, as he picked up the parts of his sword. If Pondermoore fought, she would be the villain. If she didn’t fight back, then they were bad AND they would need new weapons.

    They said what her old Bludgeon said, “Stupid Ogre.” They left, grumbling.

    Pondermoore remained standing. Fighting the urge to follow them and smash them into pieces. “Me want walk in woods,” she said. “You done?”

    Wraithvine put hir mug down. “For you? I am.” Ze left a tip and took Pondermoore’s hand until they were in the soothing peace of the woods. Where she fell to the ground and wailed like a baby. Ze stayed by her side and waited for her to reach an end of the feeling.

    It was a long time in finding it.

    “Me not stupid,” she insisted. “Me not bad.”

    Ze patted her shoulder and soothed, “I know. You just proved it.”

    1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      Awwwww! Pondermoore is such a sweet and understanding character, and as Wrathvine says hirself, pretty darn smart too! With a story like this, the ‘breaking point’ could have easily been a mental one – the brigands poke her too much with their taunts and trigger her to attack them directly in a rage. But instead, *that* breaking point is averted – and the thing that breaks instead is the sword of the brigand trying to pick a fight. In a sense, a great subversion for a tale about an Ogre for this prompt!

      And the moment in the woods was rather lovely too, if sad. Pondermoore was clearly deeply affected by that conflict even if it didn’t come to blows, and Wrathvine was just the kind of person she needed to support her through processing those emotions after the fact.

      Overall, a wonderful and affecting story Internutter. You make such good characters! <3

      1. The break when I was writing it was more poor Pondermoore’s heart. The sword was incidental to the process 😀

        She knows the world sees her as a monster and refusing to participate is the stressful part.

    2. KipOfTheMany Avatar
      KipOfTheMany

      Welp, scuse me while I cry! This story is so sweet! Wraithvine’s quiet understanding, and Pondermoore’s fierce protective instincts shine! You can tell these characters have been friends for long enough that they understand eachother very well. It’s lovely! And Pondermoore’s thought process when dealing with the antagonist is interesting to. She knows what she is. She know how others see her, and it hurts like hell, but she does what she knows will help. Wraithvine is right. She proved it.

      1. The world expects a stupid Ogre. Being smart throws everyone for a loop.

    3. Alexander Avatar
      Alexander

      It’s so easy to get all wrapped up in this story. I can’t help but feel reminded of ‘Of Mice and Men,’ and hopefully this one ends differently. I think it might, judging from Pondermoore’s thought process, although it’s hard to tell. This is really great, and I’m going to look at your linked website later to see if there’s more.

      1. Well since you’re journeying down my rabbit hole, I can tell you now that you will find Wraithvine and a Kobold Rogue named Lady Anthe.

        Pondermoore has yet to turn up in any of my flash fictions.

        You’ll find a LOT of other weird stuff over there. Promise.

    4. Morgan Magpie Avatar
      Morgan Magpie

      This is a lovely story! This is the kind of short story that I think is perfect for a fantasy environment. You can tell that there could be a wider world but the story you’re reading is very self contained. You can just jump in at any time. The characters are also very well defined for such a short story, something that really drew me in. This was a joy to read, thank you for submitting!

    5. Ah! Why didn’t I see this earlier? Oh well.

      Happy to see more or Wraithvine and Pondermoore.
      It was fun an interesting seeing Pondermoore….pondering her actions and their consequences.

      I don’t know the full circumstances, but I hope this doesn’t lead to these jerks running to some authority like, “Waaaah! The mean ogre was bullying us!”

  11. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “Translation”

    By Arith_Winterfell

    Jillian sighed in frustration, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and blinked a few times to refocus her eyes after spending so much time looking at a computer screen. “Why do I even keep at this! Ugh!” Makoto looked over at her sympathetically. “Why can’t these alien writings make any sense. I mean it doesn’t help they’ve been extinct for over a thousand years, so there is nobody left to ask what these writings meant.”

    Makoto nodded thoughtfully, “That is at least part of the reason we use this advanced translation AI software to help us. Look, maybe you just need a break. Why not go get some coffee and look over the computer’s translation again with fresh eyes when you get back.”

    “Yeah,” she said getting up from her chair, “I’ll try that.”

    When Jillian got back Makoto was looking over her computer’s translation. “Any luck?” Jillian asked.

    “Yeah. I can see why you’ve been having so much trouble,” Makoto said. “This glyph here is definitely the symbol for taste. And that glyph is clearly the one for the second day of the third cycle, in the second . . .” Makoto trailed off doing the math in his head.

    “Basically Tuesday,” Jillian added.

    “Yeah,” Makoto said, “but the sentence structure means it literally translates to—”

    “What is the flavor of Tuesday?” Jillian finished for him in an exasperated tone.

    “What if it’s like a koan?”

    “Huh?”

    “A paradoxical riddle, like from Zen Buddhism,” Makoto continued. “The point isn’t the logic of the phrase, but how it evokes deeper understanding in some fashion.”

    “We know so little about their beliefs, how would we— Wait!” she rushed back to her computer and began pulling up a number of other glyphs.

    “On to something?” Makoto smiled.

    “Yeah, these glyphs here and here when compared with these. It may tell us something about their sensory experiences and experience of time!”

    The thrill of discovery lasted long into the night.

    1. The entire alien species had synesthesia? Or what we’d consider to be synesthesia.

      Tuesday always tastes like reluctance and inertia to me. That might be a side effect of the modern workweek and… oh look. The riddle worked.

      Interesting side thought to how I also interpret individual words as “tasty”, “crunchy” or “chewy” depending on their pronunciation. It’s not synesthesia, but it’s a passing impersonation thereof. Words can also be “sharp” or “pointy” and “squishy” or “flat”. It’s a thing my brain does.

      1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
        Arith_Winterfell

        Interesting points C.M. Weller. It is interesting how we express words and use metaphors about those words because words themselves are an abstraction referring back to reality. So we use metaphor to point to the cultural or emotional significance of words and how they are used. As in, she spoke sharply. Language is fun, especially as a writer, so I can appreciate the sentiment! Thank you for reviewing my story and leaving your thoughts! 🙂

    2. Iceburgh69 Avatar
      Iceburgh69

      This is an interesting take on the prompt! Codebreaking! It brings to mind how the Enigma code was broken, by realizing that the end of every missive would be “Heil Hitler,” and working from there. It also gave rise in ways to tell if vocalizations are just random vocalizations or are, in fact, a language by comparing it to our own. Certain (sounds, glyphs, etc) will be more common than others, and so there will be a predictable pattern.

    3. I can easily see this being something some philosopher said, or perhaps a physicist, regarding how pointless or impossible a question or comparison is.

      “You might as well ask what Tuesday tastes like.”

  12. Unfragment (Repost from Private)
    By Shea-Leigh Carris (Inky)

    “Sit. Down.”

    His metallic heart was pounding in his chest. He felt weak, his limbs trembling with every emotion that raced through his mind. Was it disgust? Disbelief? Rage? The feeling of violation?

    The woman, while her eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance as she waited for him to obey, still couldn’t bother to show any other expression. Even as she turned to the wealthy business man that had come to buy him, she didn’t seem to care. She was still in control. “My apologies Sir, he is more compliant with the right stimuli.”

    “That’s alright, I’m glad to see more of a response from him.” The man was smirking. Voi winced as the clicking of his dress shoes seemed to resonant louder in his agitation. “That’ll definitely be positively received.”

    No, stay away. Don’t come any closer. “I don’t want this…”

    Like a mouse trapped in a corner with two cats eyeing him, Voi raised his head, his eyes glancing around erratically. The door of this room was most likely locked, he knew the woman wasn’t careless enough to forget something like that.

    In desperation, there was clarity. His eyes looked to the windows. The large windows that gave him a view of something he knew he could only look at, never be a part of. A city illuminated by the thousands of lights of skyscrapers and neon signs buried under a layer of freshly fallen snow was just beyond the glass boundaries.

    It was a strange sensation, the feeling of synthetic adrenaline coursing through him. For the first time in this life, he felt alive.

    Pushing forward, his bare feet pounded on the tiled floor as he stumbled and ran. The wires and cords tugged at his skin, wrapping and attaching themselves tightly, holding him mere centimeters from the window as to tease his freedom.

    “Please…”

    Voi uttered a single word, his arm reaching out and hand pressing against the glass. Under the tension and force, or maybe in a “miracle”, the wires snapped.

    The glass shattered into thousands of fragments and sparkled like snowflakes in the city’s lights.

    1. This one was interesting. The woman sounds almost like a slave-trader, which adds a layer of poignancy to Voi’s situation, if he is artificial. I almost fear that beings like him were explicitly created to be servants and that he wasn’t the only one. The fact that the woman orders Voi to sit down, makes me think that she knows there is a consciousness within him.

      I really hope Voi turns out alright. That leap from the window looked like it could be fatal, even for him and while I do like to see a slaver being denied their prize, Voi deserves a shot at life. I hope he survives and finds freedom.

      Great piece!

  13. Iceburgh69 Avatar
    Iceburgh69

    Broken Bodies Can Mean New Beginnings (Repost from Private)
    By Iceburgh69

    The Trial of Annihilation had begun, and the Homeworld of Huntress had erupted in intense combat. The giant walking war machines have canopies opened to vent the heat, more to keep the machine from shutting down from overheating than anything else. It was intense enough that the machine would continue to fight, even when the pilot took a direct hit.

    Bastion is in the thick of it. Wielding a heavy autocannon, he fires upon targets of opportunity, barely noticing the melee between two of the war machines happening less than a hundred meters away. Bastion turns just in time to see one of the weapon arms swing wild from a hit just as it had begun its firing sequence. Bastion stands directly in its path when it-

    Bastion’s eyes rip open, and he sits up on the bunk. The warriors involved in the Battle of Huntress redefined tenacity. Machines held together only by pure will, firing weapons that had run out of ammunition hours prior, infantry ripping the larger machines apart only to have something catastrophic occur. The words of an old commander echo in his head, “If you cannot shoot, fight with your knives. If you cannot fight with your knives, use your fists. If you cannot use your fists, run at the enemy. If you cannot run, crawl. If you cannot crawl, then die.” Huntress put those words to the test.

    Bastion flexes hands built of titanium bone lacing, artificial muscle fibres, and tough dermal armor, once again thankful for the fact that the medtechs of his new Clan are more tenacious than the warriors. They brought him back from the brink of death, replacing much of his body with artificial tissues and armor.

    The comm clicks to life. “Bastion, are you awake?”

    “Aff,” he replies, using a short form of ‘affirmative.’

    “MedTech Jullion wanted to remind you of your monthly check-up.”

    “Understood. I will be there in an hour.” The line clicks off as the memories of the battle that put him here fades once again, as they had every day for years.

    1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I’m really enjoying this sci-fi take on our prompt exploring warfare as the “breaking point” and how both human and machine fare in that war and survive it. I liked the imagery you put into this piece as it touched on machines designed to keep fighting even when their pilots died. Another interesting touch was the exploration of Bastion’s survival after being hit and being rebuilt by his clan’s medtechs. Though I find myself a bit curious as to his life outside of battle, but of course, we are limited by the word count, but it would make for an interesting further exploration if you ever wanted to expand the story. I could see an interesting contrast between his time healing and living outside of warfare contrasted against the beyond the breaking point warfare explored in this piece. Overall, an interesting and well written piece!

      1. Iceburgh69 Avatar
        Iceburgh69

        The machines weren’t designed to keep fighting after their pilots died. It was more the warriors simply ignoring death until they no longer could. And he is part of a larger story that I’m writing. Well, more in the same universe, really, but he IS present. Thank you for reminding me of that. And I was stuck at JUST the right spot to bring him in, too!

  14. Alexander Avatar
    Alexander

    Glass Woman
    By Broken Earth

    Her skin was a smooth, marble white. Her lips were blue, matching her eyes in the morning light. She wore a summer dress, a lighter blue. Small black sandals on perfect, small feet.

    ‘A perfect statue,’ thought John. ‘If only she were more…’

    Then he moved on, leaving her on her pedestal. His life moved on, leaving his heart there with her. His mind often wandered back there, but no time could be spared to visit.

    ‘What will become of her, I wonder.’ John mused to himself. ‘What would I do, stuck on a store shelf?’

    Weeks became months, months became years. The little glass woman shed small glass-work tears. John never returned, and her heart left beside him. She stood on the shelf, still frozen in place.

    ‘What has become of him, I wonder.’ She mused to herself. ‘What keeps him away from my small store shelf?’

    As time marched on her longing only grew. She dreamed of fairies coming in the night to grant her freedom, to search after the man who she only saw once.

    One fine day her wish came true, a fine solstice day her glass form no longer held still, and she jumped with joy and danced for hours.

    Then soon she realized her joy was in vain, as the tidy store shelf was many feet above the ground. A fall from this height would be her end.

    John checked his watch. His day at the office was nearing its close, but as with before the small corner store would be locked before he could make it.

    The small glass woman sat, her legs neatly crossed. It seemed to her that John had forgotten, that she would be stranded on the shelf until time eroded her glass.

    John stood, making up his mind.

    He got in his car, ignoring his boss’s outcry, and drove to the place where they had met last. She bounced with joy at the sight of his face, forgetting the age of the shelf she stood.

    The shelf cracked, and she felt herself fall. Would John make it in time?

    1. …Please tell me John got there in time to catch her. This was really something. I gotta say, I loved every minute of this piece. The longing you conveyed here almost made me cry. I hope that John and the glass woman have a happy future together.

      I love how you wrote this piece. It reminded me a bit of a poem in prose form. The word choice and some of the sentence beats gave me that impression. I also loved how you switched perspectives between John and the glass woman, showing how they both ached for each other. The end was gut wrenchingly ambiguous (I so hope John made it in time).

      Amazing piece!

    2. MysteryElement Avatar
      MysteryElement

      Lovely piece! I enjoyed the route you took with the prompt and how it all ties into a single moment of hope and despair without resolution. I sincerely hope John catches her. Good job conveying their individual feelings and how they cross without conveyance, I love this piece so much.

  15. Highscore
    By T.E. Fahlstedt

    My eyes watered from the continual effort. Just a few more kills. I looked to the right, keeping track of my experience rates. An estimated two hours remained, to maxing out, winning the game.

    I’d be the first. Thousands of hours had led to this. I’d finish today. Finish the grind, the game. I’d be a legend.

    My final raid ended in an adrenaline-fueled outburst. I let loose my joy and my pent-up frustration in an animalistic howl. My neighbors banged on the wall but I didn’t care. They had no part in my world, the world which I alone had mastered.

    The guild chat exploded into a celebratory bliss. The developers congratulated me, announced the accomplishment on their social media. They hadn’t even thought it possible. I had proved them wrong.

    I logged off in the early hours, intoxicated on pure dopamine. I removed my alarm before falling asleep, I no longer had to get back on the grind.

    When I woke one simple question raced through my mind: What now? No more challenges awaited me online, nothing more to achieve. I went outside for a walk. No one looked my way, no one wanted to be like me. They saw only an unemployed nobody.

    I tried getting a job. But with no experience or education to speak of no one would have me. Sure, I could recount drop rates and boss tactics from the top of my head, but that didn’t exactly matter here.

    Two weeks in Limbo. Neither here nor there. A ghost in the real world and offline in mine. The road to the top out here too steep for me, only those born up there had any real possibility to reach it. I had no chance on such an uneven playing field. Yet I had already reached the top where my heart resided.

    When I logged back in I did so under a pseudonym. As a nobody. But here I had a chance. I’d reach the top again. And I’d do so faster than anyone had before.

  16. Connor A. Avatar
    Connor A.

    Run (Sword Isles)
    By Connor A.
    (CW: Abuse, misuse of religion)

    Jen struggled to breathe as one of the exorcists pinned them to the ground. They wanted to call out for anyone to get them out of this, but a part of them knew no one would come to help them.

    Hardrock barely appeared in their vision, but they knew he was using his pastor smile as he said, “Why, I don’t believe I ever had the same orphan become possessed more than once. It’s almost like this child is a true demon.”

    Even if Jen was breathing normally, they would not join the laughter.

    “Sit the demon up, and we will begin the exorcism.”

    The exorcist eased up so he could pull Jen up, but they used the opening to roll away from him and run to the window. Without hesitating, they jumped through it and tried to get as much distance as they could from the whole scene. They ignored the sounds of shouting and focused on getting outside of Haven. It was the only option they could think of.

    The main gate was just within reach, open to let in what seemed to be a traveling cart of some kind. Jen sped up and got through before it could close. Not wanting to risk someone opening the gate and pulling them back in, they ran out into the snow, pushing through how their bare feet quickly grew numb.

    Eventually they tripped over a rock and went tumbling. When they stopped, they tried to push back up and keep running, but they kept falling back down. So they closed their eyes and allowed the fresh snow to begin slowly burying them.

    This plan was interrupted by someone lifting them back to their feet and wrapping them in furs.

    “I thought I told you to be better prepared for this weather.”

    The sound of Oberon’s gentle chastisement was enough for hot tears to run down their face. The god stiffened as Jen clung onto him and began sobbing, but he relaxed and picked them up. Without another word, he carried them back to his cave.

    1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      I breathed a sign of relief when I found out who had found Jen. I really really did not want to see them be dragged back into that awful abusive place. I don’t know what the ‘excorcism’ would have entailed, but I can imagine how horrible it would have been, especially since this is not even the first time it apparently happened to Jen. The sense of momentum in general was great – from the initial paralysis of their situation, to sudden speed in their escape, to finally stumbling to a dead halt as the cold and fatigue caught up with them.

      And of course, the moment where Oberon found them was a precious and warm moment after the literal and social cold of the rest of the story. Just some genuine comfort and understanding was what Jen needed most – as well as of course, freedom. Hopefully for good now. I doubt they are returning to Haven for a long while, after all.

      Great work Connor! 😀

      1. Connor A. Avatar
        Connor A.

        Thanks! I’m glad the action flows nicely and the contrast between Jen’s life in Haven versus their dynamic with Oberon got through. Jen is certainly going to stay away from Haven for awhile after this moment, though other stories might focus on things that occurred before they ran so that I can explore how they became close to Oberon.

    2. This is so heartwarming! That ending hits so hard, but the reason it does is because you did such a great job building to it. The tension to start it out followed by the hopeful apprehension of Jen’s escape, followed by the worry of what would become of them once they were out when you made it clear that, as Oberon said, they clearly were not dressed for that weather. And finally, that relief at the end capped it all off. Emotional rollercoaster this story was. Very well done!

      1. Connor A. Avatar
        Connor A.

        Thanks! To be honest, I was worried about the start being too abrupt since there was no buildup to it. I’m glad that it didn’t take away from the emotional weight of what Jen was going through.

  17. Mr. Telephone Man, There’s Something Wrong With My Line
    By Marx

    Jasmine frantically dialed the numbers into her phone. She kept glancing back and forth between the device and her ‘best friend’, a demon who was glancing into Jasmine’s window like a lioness about to pounce on its prey.

    “Jasmine…” Alex happily purred on the other line. “To what do I owe-”

    “Alex! Daisy’s about to feed on my family! Make her STOP!”

    There was a pause on the other end of the line. Jasmine could almost feel Alex’s grin growing through the phone as he answered, “Well, technically speaking… I promised to spare YOU. Not your family.”

    “I know that, now!” Jasmine growled, “Please, just-! Alex, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything!”

    “…tell you what. I’ll leave their fate up to her. Is that better?”

    Jasmine sighed in relief. “Thank you, Alex.”

    “Heh. Don’t mention it.”

    As the line went dead, Jasmine felt a chill. She didn’t like the way he said that. This was further proven when Daisy went for the front door again.

    “Daisy, what are you-?”

    “If Master didn’t want me to kill them, he would have said so.” Daisy said bluntly, “He didn’t. Now, move or be moved.”

    “Wait! Just let me call him again!”

    “Go ahead. He won’t pick up.” Daisy easily moved the mortal to the side, despite her efforts to cling on. “Master gave his answer already.”

    “Daisy, PLEASE! He’s yours, okay? Alex is yours! I’ll give him up! I’ll go away forever!”

    Daisy paused and seemed to ponder her words. “Your infatuation isn’t the problem. It never was. The problem is that its mutual. Where would you go that he couldn’t find you?”

    When despite her panic, Jasmine had no answer, Daisy nodded. “That’s what I thought. I say this as your friend. Go for a walk. You can’t stop me. You don’t want to watch this.”

    “How can you claim to be my friend right now?!” Jasmine cried out.

    Daisy shrugged. “You’re right. Feel free to stay.” She then shoved Jasmine down and entered the house.

    Tears ran down Jasmine’s cheeks as Alex’s number continued to ring.

    Then the screams began.

    1. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      Making deals with beings you do not quite comprehend can backfire, and this is not an exception to the rule. Despite Alex only having a voice appearance in this scene, you give the readers a sense of how he approaches these sorts of situations by how he talks to Jasmine versus how Daisy talks about him. Great job as always.

      1. Thank you so much! I’m really glad that the character dynamics came across so well in the dialogue. And yeah, anyone who truly comprehends Alex’s nature wouldn’t have made a deal with him in the first place, much less trusting him not to twist the wording.

    2. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      Yuuuuuup. That’s kinda the problem with demons that use infatuation to control their servants as much as they use fear and force – even if the demon ‘allows’ their servant to act of their own free will, they will just do whatever their master wants anyway. Truly an Alex thing to do, giving Jasmine a moment of relief before she realised that absolutely nothing about her situation had actually changed. Except maybe the extra sting of a supposed friend’s horrific betrayal.

      It makes me wonder what the nature of Alex’s attraction to Jasmine actually is. Is it just that she’s his favourite thing to torment emotionally, or is there some more genuine attraction there too? Or is Daisy just *wrong*, and Alex actually doesn’t care for Jasmine any more than his other victims apart from as a way of personalising his torture of Daisy? All potential answers for a cryptic, sadistic being like him.

      In any case, a very grim and interesting story Marx! Great work. 😀

    3. Woof.

      Well, two can play at that game: “He didn’t tell me NOT to rip your spine out for attacking my family.”

      Jokes aside, I’m curious how this could be the breaking point…and her NOT…act. I mean, it seems like if she needed the extra oomph of willpower or emotion or whatever to break whatever hold he has on her, it’d be NOW not later.

      That said, when this was brought up previously I didn’t imagine she was RIGHT THERE when this happened.

      Once again, I just can’t help but be surprised at their surprise. Like… I don’t even know.

      1. Lol it’s a power disparity thing. As a human, there’s just very little Jasmine could do physically to stop Daisy. Daisy wields a fraction of Alex’s power, but a fraction of his power compared to a human is still ridiculous without being specifically trained to kill demons, which Jasmine is not.

        It’s like trying to fight a train. Sure, you can try, but you’ll just get run over. At best, she could have tried to take her family away beforehand, but she wrongly assumed they were safe so by the time Daisy was there, it was too late.

        That’s why Jasmine was depending so heavily on Alex stopping her. Matt isn’t in this picture yet, so Alex was pretty much the ONLY one who could have stopped Daisy at that point.

        1. Makokam Avatar
          Makokam

          Ah.
          Clearly that was my mistake. I was under the impression that this chatacter was the same as Daisy. So either this takes place BEFORE she gets that power, or I confused her for a completely different character.

          1. Oh definitely before. Jasmine does become a thrall as well but that is after this point. It was pretty much triggered by this point in fact, since this is the moment Jasmine finally started to hate Alex.

  18. Holding On (Forsaken Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    The clanging should have been their first clue.

    “Did you hear that?” Newton asked.

    “Hear what,” Rain replied, absentmindedly.

    “That… sound. That clanging noise.”

    “Probably just a crate or something. Would you relax? You’re making me nervous.”

    “We’re over 4,000 km above ground and climbing. Up here, every weird clanging noise should make you nervous.”

    Newton drummed his fingers on his knees, glancing backwards into the shuttle’s cargo hold.

    “Oh my shadow,” Rain exclaimed. “If it makes you so tense, just go back and check. Anything to keep you from fidgeting.”

    “I think I will,” Newton replied haughtily, undoing his seat-belt and standing up.

    “Tell me, if it was the crate filled with berries that fell over,” Rain called back. “Gotta warn Jade to stock up on cleaning supplies, if any got squished.”

    The sudden drop in temperature should have been their second clue.

    In fact, Newton didn’t notice, until the cargo-hold door was torn out of its hinges, flying into the clouds. He stumbled in horror and slid towards the open gap. The gust of wild winds screamed in his ears, as he felt the floor disappear under his foot. He just managed to grab hold of the shuttle, keeping himself from falling. Beneath him, the clouds were rushing by, the ground rapidly disappearing.

    “Newton!?” he just managed to hear Rain.

    He opened his mouth to shout back, as his grip broke. He fell. His fingers slid along the shuttle wall. His heart stopped. Any scream was choked by shock and wind.

    A piercing pain went through his shoulder as his fall ended abruptly. A harpoon dug into his shoulder, the gun being held by Rain, her face straining. He grabbed hold of the ship again, trying to pull himself up, aided by her. The harpoon cut into his flesh, almost ripping it apart.

    With monumental effort, Newton pulled himself towards the shuttle. Rain’s foot slipped an inch. Newton jolted.

    But they held.

    Together, they managed to pull him back into the cargo hold, as the emergency doors closed. They collapsed onto the floor, exhausted, but safe.

    1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      This was a tense piece right from the start, even with Rain’s causual attitude towards the warning signs of the malfunctioning shuttle. The sheer intensity of the high attitude+velocity exposure outside was very effective indeed, especially with how difficult it would have been to hear anything over the overwhelming noise of wind.

      (slight typo btw – with “slid towards the open gab” I assume you meant ‘gap’?)

      Rain’s solution being to harpoon Newton right in the shoulder is a pretty gritty and scary solution, but I’m not going to blame Rain for acting on the very first plan that came to mind in the few seconds she had. Especially since it worked, though I’m sure that shoulder will need a good amount of medical attention afterwards. It really did feel like even the harpoon could have torn out of his skin at any moment, and that would have been the end of him.

      Great action acene Spectre! Well done. 😀

  19. Calliope Rannis Avatar
    Calliope Rannis

    The Wreckage Of Everything She Knew (Nyssa’s Story)
    By Calliope Rannis

    Nyssa spent three hours searching that beach, littered with the splintered remains of her father’s boat. She’d already looked everywhere, but she kept looping back, again and again. All to find a single body.

    But Nyssa couldn’t find her father. Nothing but the lonely beach and the dark sea.

    She stood there, shivering in her coat and nightdress, and realised she was never going to see her dad ever again.

    She whimpered.

    She clasped her hands together, praying to her family’s gods, quietly weeping for help, comfort, anything.

    She tried to find reassurance in what her mother had told her, before her death from illness:

    “When it is my time to go, try not to be sad, okay? Remember the time we had together, and let that warm your heart on the cold days. Try to have the happiest, most wonderful life that you can, because you don’t need me for that, or anyone else. You only need yourself.”

    She tried to feel happy.

    Then deep inside her, something snapped.

    Her praying hands closed into shaking fists, as hot, painful words erupted from her throat.

    “This was NOT their time!” She howled at the sky. “They didn’t have to die! YOU didn’t have to take them away! We could have had so much more time-” Her throat caught in a sob, before bursting open with greater fury.

    “NO! I am NOT going to BEG for your help anymore! You’ve NEVER cared, HAVE YOU? Mum and Dad told me you both were like family to us! They called you ‘Great-Uncle Kord’ and ‘Great-Auntie Queen’ and you have done NOTHING for us! You just took them away-” She coughed, her throat raw and acidic.

    “BUT YOU WON’T TAKE ME AWAY! I WON’T LET YOU HURT ANYONE ELSE! I’LL BE BETTER THAN YOU! I WILL SHATTER YOU AGAINST THESE CLIFFS! I WILL BREAK EVERYTHING…everything that you…love…” Her burning words were drowned out by her sobs as she collapsed.

    The screaming echoes faded, until all that was left was the crying of a teenage orphan, and the distant roar of the waves.

    1. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      Feelings of anger towards religion following the death of a relative is a relatable feeling, especially if it was a belief that you grew up with. I can’t recall if the gods are tangible beings in this universe, but if they are, that anger becomes more personal than it already was. Great job delivering that emotion.

    2. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I really enjoyed this story Calliope (at least as an external reader, poor Nyssa). I’ve lost family myself, and experienced alienation from one’s former faith (separately from each other unlike Nyssa). So I can relate to Nyssa’s experience. I felt it was well captured, both in the desire to hold onto positive loving memories of her parents and in the feelings she had toward the gods. Indeed facing sincere conflict with one’s ethics and beliefs to me is a real sign of facing pain in life and growing as a person, so it is good to see Nyssa grow and develop as a character. It was an emotional moment for Nyssa, and well written as well. I enjoyed the piece as it was well done!

    3. This is such a powerful story. At least in part because it is so relatable. I feel that whether you still follow a religion or not, you’ve probably had this feeling at some point in your life. Life does tend to be unfair, and that does conflict with deities of any kind supposedly looking out for our best interests. Be it continuing to have faith in a religion or rejecting said religion, that frustration is usually there either way.

      It was really impactful to have Nyssa follow the ways she was taught initially before the pain became too much and overwhelmed her. Her anger and desire for vengeance is completely understandable and is all in all a great use of the prompt. You’re with Nyssa every step of the way because it’s such an understandable reaction. Very well done!

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