Writing Group: Little Sounds in the Night

Hello, Darkness Lurkers and Nightowls!

Did you hear that? What do you think it was? Have you heard anything like that? I want to check it out, but I don’t want to go alone… can you come with me? But you’re going first, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Little Sounds in the Night

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!

Ah, nothing like lying in bed, peaceful and snug and almost asleep… and then hearing a creak in the hall when no one should be out there. Was it your imagination? Was it the family pet? Maybe dad is getting some water? Are you brave enough to go investigate?

There are plenty of things that make noise in the night, and just as many stories can be conjured up from such an idea. Perhaps a thief has snuck in through a window in search of money or jewels, but wasn’t counting on such a lavish house to have such creaky floors. Maybe a young child is unable to sleep because of the storm outside, and the wind is causing the house to settle. It creaks and groans under the force, making the little one hide under their blanket with their stuffed toy guardian. Or maybe you choose a group of friends having a slumber party, and decided horror movies right before bed was a fantastic idea. 

What if those little sounds are from something not so small? A tiny, faint scratching at the door. Must just be the cat, right? But then you open the door, and something else is standing there. Something much bigger, and much more eldritch looking. Maybe you write about someone woken from their slumber by their sibling sleepwalking. Or perhaps instead of sleepwalking, they’re sundowning. It could even be as simple as a child sneaking out of bed at two in the morning for cookies, completely forgetting how every step makes their little ankles crack.

One tiny, out of place sound is all it is, but oh, how it can make the imagination wander and spiral out of control.

So go on. What are you waiting for? Get your flashlight, put your feet on the floor, and go check it out. I’m sure the under-bed lurkers will thank you later.

—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 3:00pm 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! Get ready not just to share what you’ve got, but to give back to the other writers here as well.

Rules and Guidelines

We read at least four stories during each stream, two of which come from the public post, and two of which come from the much smaller private post. Submissions are randomly selected by a bot, but likes on your post will improve your chances of selection, so be sure to share your submission on social media!

  1. Text and Formatting

    1. English only.
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    3. Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
    4. Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
    5. Use two paragraph breaks between each paragraph so that they have a proper space between them (press “enter” or “return” twice).
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  2. What to Submit

    1. Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
    2. Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
    3. Write something brand new; no re-submitting past entries or pieces written for other purposes
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Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.


Comments

81 responses to “Writing Group: Little Sounds in the Night”

  1. “Night”
    By Merlin

    Cold dew settles on my shoulders as I look up at the fiery-orange sky. Slowly, it turns crimson as the sun vanishes behind the hillside—strewn with the yellow, red, and brown splotches of late autumn—to my west. The dark blue of night slowly crawls over the heavens, slowly unveiling the brighter of stars as the sun sinks below the horizon accompanied by the last songs of the birds. Somewhere a crow lets out a lonely caw. At last, the voices of the birds give way to an orchestra of chittering bats and chirping crickets and night finally lays its dark veil over the world. I look down the empty street. Blurs of shadows now hide the rubble that is strewn about every corner of the town, and the empty window frames of the surrounding houses stare down on me like the hollow orbs of a fleshless skull.

    I bow down to pick my backpack off the ground when I hear a light scratch to my left. It sounds like the tiny claws of a careless rat, although the sound has a deepness to it that seems suggests something bigger. Perhaps just a rat in one of the knocked-over rubbish bins. My heart squeezes slightly in my chest as I back away from the origin of the sound and, when nothing jumps at me from the darkness, turn to make my way through the rubble-littered streets back to my decrepit family home in my desolate childhood town. A muffled thud makes my head jerk around so suddenly that I nearly lose my balance. My heart jolts with trepidation. I squint as though I could then better penetrate the nightly shadows.

    Minutes pass as the air steadily cools, and apart from the chirping crickets and the lonesome call of an owl the night is quiet once more. Despite my racing heart, a laugh escapes me.

    They were just little sounds in the night.

    Or so I tell myself.

  2. King_Nix Avatar
    King_Nix

    “Scratching at the Doors”
    By King_Nix

    [An entry in the field journal of Francis Plantagenet, Captain General of the Inquisitorial Dæmon Hunters]:

    October 18th

    First night of our vigil in the American state of Arizona. As I began preparations to retire for the night, I heard a tapping at the window. The untrained might have thought it was merely the branches of trees or grains of loose soil, caught in a sudden breeze. I know better.

    Sure enough, the door to my bedchamber was thrust open, and in came Michaël.

    With a salute, he began to speak, “Captain General. It has come to my attention that Private Thomas has laxed in his blessing of the perimeter.”

    I responded, “I’ve noticed. We will have to decide on a penance after the expedition.”

    “I am afraid,” he said, “that he has already reaped the fruit of his negligence.” Michaël’s eyes lowered. I would only later find the body of poor Thomas, his skin flayed off, apparently while he still lived. How his screams were kept from us I cannot say, such is the danger of our foes.

    “I see. Let us pray, then, for his swift passage into Heaven.” Thus, we held a minute of silent prayer for our fallen soldier. “Rouse the others if they’re not already aware. There’ll be no rest tonight, it seems.”

    Michaël gave another salute, and departed. The night was spent in tense vigilance. Cries and howls echoed in the night, some more animalistic and others too human. Sebastian thought he heard the sobs of his mother, five years deceased. At the edge of the cabin’s lights, shapes haunted our vision – twisted forms of beast and man that stalked like hyenas in the cold night – filling the air with an odor of blood and rot.

    Among the horrors, I know I saw the face of Thomas, stretched and distorted over a canid muzzle in a sickening grin.

    The confrontation subsided by morning, and we wasted no time in blessing the perimeter, and steeled ourselves for the nights to come.

    [End of entry.]

    1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      Great story, King. I liked the approach you took with making the format in the form of a letter. It’s something different. You also had some great descriptions, I especially liked this one:

      “Among the horrors, I know I saw the face of Thomas, stretched and distorted over a canid muzzle in a sickening grin.”

      That was a very disturbing picture.

      The idea was great and you got us right in during the action.

      For critique, I’d stick to past tense. It makes more sense if we’re reading a letter, no?

      Also, they are on an expedition and it sounds like they are out in the desert, but the following description doesn’t fit with that and gives the impression that they are in a building of some sort:

      “Sure enough, the door to my bedchamber was thrust open, and in came Michaël.”

      Do tents have doors or bedchambers?

      Maybe I was confused 🤔

      Either way, great piece. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

  3. Mr. Teddy wants to play
    By Josie

    The small child woke up to the sound of small footsteps and giggling. He pulled his covers tighter around himself wondering what could be making that noise. As he woke up he realized the sound was coming from next to his bed and his teddy bear was missing. Finally curiosity got the better of the child and he leaned his head over the edge of the bed. On the floor was Mr. Teddy. He was the one walking around and giggling.

    The child reached out to the bear, “Mr. Teddy, you’re alive? What are you doing out of bed?”

    The bear stopped dancing and looked at the child with a grin slowly coming across its face, “Hello Timothy. I wanted to go for a little walk but now that you’re awake we can play.”

    Timothy picked up the bear and hugged it to him tight, “You scared me at first Mr. Teddy. I thought you were a monster. We can’t play right now though. It’s sleepy time. We can play in the morning.”

    The bear’s eyes turned red as it hugged the child back. Tighter and tighter it squeezed with far more strength than any stuffed animal should possess. The child’s breath started to come out in wheezes, “No Timothy it’s time to play now.”

    The child woke up again screaming. He looked around wildly for Mr. Teddy and found him laying right next to him like normal. It had just been a bad dream. The child snuggled into his bear now, “It was just a bad dream. You’re not alive right Mr. Teddy?”

    The child saw a red glow coming from the bear’s eyes

    1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      Wow! That was creepy. I loved it. It was like a demented demon bear from that movie A.I. Exceptionally done Josie!

    2. Hey moderators I have a question. I’m on a writing website that features 40 of my other works. Is there someway for me to comment a link to my author page via your stream?

  4. BlueCafe Avatar
    BlueCafe

    Silvia
    By BlueCafe

    Silvia was fully alert, miles away from her tribe’s village located in the heart of the Howling Woods. She had fled the night before, slept high in the trees during the safety of the daylight, and now picks her way carefully through the knarled tree trunks and wild underbrush. Every few minutes she pauses to sniff the air and her ears never stop swiveling. These woods are known for its wolves. Luckily, the moonlight is bright enough to see by. Barely.

    SNAP!

    She drops to her stomach, wincing slightly as white-hot pain radiates from her shoulder blades. Focus. The sound came from ahead and slightly to her right. Roughly 80 feet away. She strains her ears but there’s nothing but the wind.

    Curiosity wins over what little self-preservation Silvia has left and she begins her slow crawl toward the noise. 20 feet later another SNAP pierces the air and she freezes. Calculates. Whatever is making them isn’t moving. Odd. She closes another 15 feet with excruciating slowness, pulling her way under bushes and brambles, biting her tongue to not cry out in pain when her wings get snagged. The fifth time they get caught she decides to make her way using the intertwined lower branches of the forest.

    Part of her notes that these branches aren’t as tightly woven as the ones in her village; part of her recoils at the thought of her village in general. A much larger part of her notes the smell of cooked meats nearby. Fear forgotten, curiosity strong, Silvia pushes through to the source of the noises and finds herself in a small clearing occupied by a human… who isn’t screaming at the sight of her or cursing her like she’s used to. She blinks at him, stunned. He blinks back.

    “Hello.” His voice is… kind. She’s more confused. “Are you hungry?”

    She nods and he smiles with delight.

    “You can understand me then?”

    “…yes.” Her voice is quiet, uncertain.

    “That’s amazing.” She’s never heard that word before. It sounds… not mean. Maybe he’s a friend.

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

      I like the mystery in this one. The fact that you only give suggestions of Silvia’s past lends itself well to her being something of an enigma that I would want to learn more about.

    2. Interesting piece. I was rather caught up with the feeling I had of Silvia crawling through the brush. When her wings caught my shoulders tensed up because of being so involved. I can smell that meat cooking too my mouth started watering a little. The kind man worries me though.

  5. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
    ThatWeirdFish

    The Sound of Heartbreak (C.W. child abandonment)
    By ThatWeirdFish

    Paldacer’s fur bristled against the cold, and he held his treasure closer to his chest. The angry voices had died off long ago, replaced by the soft crunch of snow under hoof. His weary eyes scanned the forest for any sign of shelter. Surely the must be a cave or something… there. The glow of fire drew him close like a lost dog to its master’s voice.

    It was a small inn, typical of those along the roadside. A carved wooden sign with the image of a spotted boar’s head creaked as it swung gently in the night breeze. Paldacer’s lips eased into a relieved smile… they’d be safe here…

    Then the muffled clinking of glasses and laughter rang out from inside and snapped him out of his stupor. Those voices… belonged to humans. He shuffled to behind a pine tree and slumped against it, cursing his luck. His eyes drifted from his newborn foal’s sleeping face to the tattoos on his arms. Green marks screaming to all louder than his bestial form ever could.

    Here be a monster. Fear him.

    A monster who dared to love a human woman too recklessly. And… now…

    His daughter’s weak whimper brought his eyes back to her. “I know it’s cold,” He whispered and rested his forehead against hers. “There is no shelter for me here, but….” He looked back at the inn, hope stirring courage within. “They might have grace for a monster’s daughter….”

    His heart screamed at him with each step towards the door.

    No. Don’t do this. Don’t let her go. She needs you.

    He pulled off his shirt and wrapped his foal tenderly in it over her swaddling cloth. His arms felt heavier than stone as he gently set her down on the steps. He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead for… possibly the last time.

    “I promise to always watch over you, my treasure.” He whispered before tearing himself away to knock on the door. He then hid behind the corner of the building as the door opened.

    A woman gasped. A man spoke. A child cried.

    1. Wow. That’s my initial reaction. I’m already engaged with this character and their poor child. I could feel the sadness and loneliness coming from the father. It’s cold where I’m at right now and yet I could feel the chill gathering around me as I read. I hope they will take pity on the poor child.

  6. Dreamer of worlds Avatar
    Dreamer of worlds

    The children of the night
    A story by Dreamer of worlds

    Ethan lay in his bed watching the tattered purple curtains flicked from this way to that. He sighed frustrated at his inability to sleep shattering the deafening silence that had persisted all evening. He clambered out from under his blue football duvet and made his way towards the door of his room. He reached towards the door handle but snatched it back when a tiny scratching came from what seemed to be the other side of his door.

    “Is someone there?” He whispered. The scratching stopped but there was no answer. Ethan frowned and gave a small shudder, his parents should be asleep. “Moses?” He asked, The family cat moses had never asked to sleep with him before he opened the door wincing as it creaked open. Suddenly the door was slammed into him and Ethan stumbled back as something made its way into his room.

    Ethan dived towards his bed and looked back at the thing and froze. The thing was around the same size as him and had black flaky skin that left a blackened trail wherever it walked. Long claws hung limply from thick scaled hands twin tails twisted and turned behind it as if performing dance. The most unhuman part of it was its face. Snake like slits housed neon green eyes which stared cunningly at him. A thin line with no lips showed teeth like knives stuck unevenly from its mouth.

    It advanced till a few paces away from him blocking the door. It made a deep throated noise. It took Ethan a few moments to realize it had said “you will join us” Before being able to object, the thing bared its teeth and lunged.

  7. Tyler Chancey Avatar
    Tyler Chancey

    After The Slaying
    By CosmicDesperado30

    Adrian limped from the ruins of the gothic castle, the bloody stake cracking in his white knuckles. The deed was finally done. The devil of the night was dead. The hordes of the night were without a master. The people were safe.

    Exhaustion and blood loss finally overtook him. Adrian collapsed in the woods, his chainmail losing whatever cohesion it was holding on to. His weapons and vials of holy water unhooked from his belt, the boiling blood of his latest triumph rotting them to nothing, his holy symbols of the Lady of the Night fell to the barren earth.

    The silence around him didn’t last long. He felt them more than heard them; the last vestiges of adrenaline keeping him alert and aware. The snarls and growls of the wolves. The shambling and shuffling that was the perversion of life made to walk again. The chittering of insects large enough to consume a man whole.

    They were coming. And Adrian had very little to defend himself.

    He shuffled his way to the trunk of a gnarled tree and began speaking one last prayer of peace and serenity. The sounds continued to grow. Adrian felt no fear or terror from their approach. His soul was prepared and his heart was content. They couldn’t terrorize anyone anymore. What’s one more life weighed against an entire country’s future?

    The cacophony of nocturnal predators continued to bear down on Adrian. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, accepting his fate.

    Twigs snapped. Pebbles clattered. The pattering of paws grew in urgency. It was all over.

    The next thing Adrian felt was the wet tongue of a hunting hound on his face. The hound’s master recalled him shortly after, hobbling forward with his cane.

    Without a master indeed.

    1. Oh, this was EXCELLENT. I sincerely hope this one gets read.

      I loved how even though the battle was won, the war was far from over. It was actually the first thing I thought of when you said, “the hordes of the night were without a master”

      And this whole thing is why after you kill the Boss, if getting OUT isn’t a problem, make anything else getting in difficult and then take a long rest. Cause you can never doubt the possibility of having to fight your way back out.

      But I love how in the end (maybe) it was all in his head and that the minions of Darkness were never breathing down his neck.

      (Not since Boss feel at least)

  8. TheAssassin Avatar
    TheAssassin

    Night
    By TheAssassin

    [Private Repost]

    The harbinger of darkness, the villain of unknowable evil, the looming threat that brings wrath and ruin -the night – pulsed to the beat of a boy’s broken heart. It pulsed to the beat of sorrow, suffering, and sadness. It pulsed to the beat of protection, shielding, and health. It pulsed against its own rhythm in its desperate attempt to help that sad boy.

    The night saw what few else could. It knew the world in all its detail. It saw the ants scurrying in the sand and the tides raging in the sea. It saw the mighty mountains standing ever-stalwart, and it saw the seeds of flowers gently dancing in the wind.

    It also saw the horrors that unfolded when it touched the world. It knew the creatures that lurked under its shadow. It heard every scream and felt every wound. It felt that terrible sensation of claws ripping through tender flesh, that burning, visceral fire that paralyzed the mind.

    Those beasts always hunted, seeking their next victim. The night ached for those slain by its denizens. It did not ask for such creatures, yet they always came.

    Always.

    They came now, hunting the young boy whose heart beat in tandem with the night. The night heard the cracks of branches, the rustling of leaves, and the salivating growls that preceded an attack. These things the night knew well.

    Lightning splintered the dark sky, and the beasts pressed forward, the lone boy in their sight. They circled their prey.

    The boy cried as he heard, but could not see, his predators. A final tragedy for the boy, a final cruel act to conclude his play. He clutched a small teddy bear and knelt in the storm, awaiting his execution.

    The night rumbled with a vengeful fury.

    “NO MORE!”

    Raining bolts of electricity smote the beasts, their anguished howls mixed with the night’s own suffering, for he felt their pain too.

    Each agonizing bolt shredded the night’s soul.

    But the night saw that the boy was safe.

    That was all that mattered.

    That was all that ever mattered.

  9. Samurai Jackson Avatar
    Samurai Jackson

    English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes.
    Hunter
    By Samurai Jackson

    I’m hearing a child’s voice, a very familiar voice, one that I hear in my dreams every night since that day, a voice that I wish I could hear again outside of my dreams, it’s my son’s voice.

    I open my eyes thinking that the voice would go away, but I’m still hearing it.

    “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” I hear, but I can’t believe it.

    “Johnny are you really here my son?” I say while getting up of bed in an instant, knocking of countless bottles of cheap Whiskey. I look frantically at every corner of my room until I lay my eyes on him again, a tiny kid holding a super hero toy. I always see him in my dreams, but his eyes were always lifeless.

    “Johnny it’s really you, my son!” I look at his eyes, they are full of life and joy, it’s been soo long since I saw his eyes this way. I hug him tightly, his hair feels like before in my hands… I start crying, it’s my son!

    “I’m so sorry Johnny, daddy wasn’t able to save you.” I look him in the eyes “Could you forgive me, my son?”

    “Daddy, it’s okay, mommy and I understand that you failed us…” he holds my hand “You were suppossed to have died with us. Just say the words daddy, and you will be with us again.”

    He’s clearly my boy, he came here to take me with him. Me surviving that day was a mistake, and my suffering over the years was my punishment, I hold his hand tightly, look him in those eyes full of life and joy.

    “I want to go with you my son.”

    I close my eyes.

    1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      An interesting take, using the “Dying Dream” trope to express the prompt for this week. I really like the emotion in this story. It really carries the sense of the narrator’s loss and longing for his lost son. I’m actually reminded of a film “Jacob’s Ladder” which explores the same general idea, of a man facing moving on into the afterlife with his son there to guide him. So its a very good use of that idea. I didn’t notice any particular mistakes in the spelling or grammar, so given as you noted its not your first language, you did just fine! An entertaining and heart-warming story of a man’s reunion with his loved ones upon his death.

    2. This is a tough one to say much about… But it really hits hard.

    3. Dreamer of worlds Avatar
      Dreamer of worlds

      Very emotional writing loved it

  10. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “Hauntings”

    By: Arith Winterfell

    I can hear them. The small whispers in the darkness. They swirl around me amidst the darkened trees, children of the night even more so than wolves. The spirits of the dead. Most people can’t even hear their whispers. Some few who have learned the secrets of necromancy become attuned to such things, even if like me our hearing is poor in other matters. It isn’t exactly sound, but something more ethereal.

    Their voices crawl and writhe into the consciousness of those who care to listen. Sometimes the dead share knowledge we wouldn’t otherwise have. Sometimes they only bemoan their existence or their longing for something lost. Sometimes they even share things humans aren’t meant to know at all. The dead themselves don’t exactly stay human really.

    I imagine that raised up your curiosity. At first, the spirits of the dead are very much the people they were in life. They cling closely to their lives as if they continue living them. Yet, something curious happens with time. When we are alive, we are always changing, in death we are no different. Even more so when we are divorced from bodily needs.

    The spirits of the dead slowly become more and more entangled in themselves, in their own flaws or virtues. Often becoming obsessed in some fashion or another, making the spirit world their own private heavens or hells so to speak.

    Some simply forget themselves. Time rolls on like an ever-rolling stream. Those who knew them in life pass away, and eventually their name erodes out of living memory. Those who forget themselves utterly, however, lose themselves as they slowly fade away into nothing more than wisps of spiritual energy. They lose their voice becoming even less than whispers in the night. Yes, that is a terrible fate indeed.

    And so, here I remain to ponder, which is it a worse fate to have? To be obsessed ever pursuing endless urges or longings? Or to fade away into nothingness, extinguished like a candle?

    1. I’m tempted to try to answer the question…but I don’t think I will.

      I like the idea that the spirits are drowned out by…the generally liveliness of the day and can only be heard, even by those listening for them, at night. Or perhaps they’re just stronger at night? I supposed that’s a possibility.

      It’s also interesting that their afterlife is of their own creation, and they don’t actually go anywhere. Even when they lose enough of their sense of self that they…dissipate into nothing.

  11. Johnny Saguaroseed Avatar
    Johnny Saguaroseed

    Midnight Snack
    by Johnny Saguaroseed

    Shinnaninam, the wandering wizard, reclined on one of Magistrate Tuskh’s opulent couches scattering cheese crumbs on its jacobean upholstery. The magistrate had paid Shinaninam five copper styca to watch his bedroom door and determine why—(“I suspect a jinx has been placed on me by my opponents in the Cortes,” he had told Shinnaninam, “I caught Rexpedius discerning me with what I believe to be an evil eye just last Tuesday.”)—he woke each morning feeling phlegmatic and stale. Lads! never cheat a wizard or gibe a beldame; but Tuskh had grown imperious in the soft bosom of abundance and so when Shinnaninam, sometimes called Shirnaninan, passed the styca under a weir-light he saw them for snail shells.

    This is why, when Shinnaninam heard a clattering from the baseboard, he returned to the Mimolette.

    Presently an ambulatory skeleton, no more than three inches tall, emerged from a mousehole carrying an apparatus of arcane design. The skeleton was misshapen, with overlarge skull and too short limbs. It had something of the marmoset about it, but also something of the rat. The apparatus was a Macairion, a type of scalpel with long bone handle and short but sharp flint blade that, when cut into flesh, impelled the wounded to follow any single command. The night-spirit clacked across the antichamber floor looking like a hoplite tramping its way to battle or perhaps an early morning fisherman dreaming of its first catch.

    It scrambled under the bedroom door and Shinnaninam rushed to push his eye against the keyhole. He witnessed the spirit make a small incision under the magistrate’s left ankle and then climbed inside. Immediately, Tuskh rose and proceeded to a hidden passage and down into what, Shinnaninam following, found to be a lab for necromancy. Here, Tuskh put the finishing touches on a Macairion of obscene size. It was a type of zweihänder with long horn handle and short but sharp granite blade. Nearby loomed a massive skeleton that had something of the gorilla about it, but also something of the josephoartigasia, and it waited to make an incision in the world.

    1. ate_house Avatar
      ate_house

      I love this, it absolutely captures the feeling of whimsical absurdist fantasy while not falling into the trap of being too silly for the sake of it. I also love the writing style, it feels like a ye olde history book of dubious truthfulness.
      There is maybe a small problem of front-loading in some places, where I had to go back a sentence or two and read over it again to get a proper picture in my head. For instance, when describing the spirit you give relative information about the sizes of the head and limbs before describing the overall shape. Overall though this isn’t much of a problem.
      Also, I love “Shinnaninam/Shirnaninam.” Absolutely feels like a wizard name. Have you by any chance read the Septimus Heap series? I find myself reminded of that when reading this piece. Very fun.

  12. T.C.Holmes Avatar
    T.C.Holmes

    A girl dies…
    By T.C.Holmes
    Drip, drip, drip went the distant sounds of water dribbling in from some far off hole no doubt promising a false and fleeting freedom to the young girl laying beneath a fallen bookcase. For 3 days had she lain there, arms too weak to lift the massive heavy piece of wood, slowly getting weaker and weaker with each hour that passed with no food, no water, and no relief from the mind shattering pain in her leg.

    Drip, drip, drip the dripping sounds had started on the second day as if to taunt her with its promise to relieve the dryness in her throat if she could only summon the strength to free herself, but she knew that was something beyond her reach. The first day had been filled with struggle and tears, tears she no longer had the water to shed, now there was only numbness and immobility. The girl smacked her lips, she knew the end was soon, she had prayed to the gods for salvation, for freedom but each in turn and made themselves clear with her continued entrapment.

    She summon what effort she could and prayed one final time in a voice like sand on stone,” Oh, Ni, Goddess of death I beg of you please free me from this torment, take me, and let me know your sweet icy embrace”, and with that the girls eyes slipped shut and darkness took her. The girl had hoped that Ni would take her, she who brings relief to the pained and dying, she who takes without mercy, without warning and without hesitation surly she would give the girl what she so desperately desired.

    The next day the girl woke up, not even death wanted her pain to end, the gods had truly abandoned her, so she abandoned them in turn. That was the last anyone ever saw of the girl, only a beast of rage remained.

    1. BlueCafe Avatar
      BlueCafe

      I love this so, so much. I’m curious about how the girl got trapped under the bookcase! I also love the repetitive “drip, drip, drip” at the beginning of the first two paragraphs; the sound (but not the sight) of the water really helps drives home how much the girl is suffering.
      Praying to the gods but getting no answer from any of them… wow. Even the gods have abandoned her. What has she done to deserve that? The speculation is thrilling. Adore the line “with a voice like sand on stone”– not only do we get a clearer understanding of what she sounds like but sand and stone are both devoid of water, further emphasizing the lack thereof.
      “The next day the girl woke up” is a great plot twist and a real gut-punch (in the best way) to those rooting for her suffering to end. Abandoning the gods in return and turning into a beast!! Metaphorically? Literally? Did she shed her mortal form in spite? That last paragraph is so much fun. Love this.

  13. ate_house Avatar
    ate_house

    Of Royals And Resolve
    by ate_house

    ‘Thwip,’ came an echo down the cave.

    ‘Thwip,’ again. Tara thought back to yesterday afternoon.

    She had been sitting with Princess Matilda around a campfire Tara built, deep in the woods. Lord Tennyson’s forces were a day or two behind them now, so they could afford the light.

    “I… I wish I could help.” The princess was sitting with her knees to her chin, and she spoke softly.

    “What do you mean?”

    “With anything. I can’t build fires or hunt like you can. I can’t run or climb like you, so we’re slower, and I know you’ve been eating three-quarter rations.” The princess sucked in a breath. “I couldn’t even- when Tennyson attacked, I couldn’t even fight. All those lessons, but my rapier was useless against a proper sword. If it weren’t for you, I’d…”

    “Well, I am a royal guard, your highness. It’s my job.” Tara gave a lighthearted shrug, but the princess just curled in on herself more.

    “And now look at me, sitting around your campfire crying over my faults, when you’re doing all the actual work. I just- I’ve got no resolve.” Tara couldn’t even see Matilda’s eyes anymore, hidden behind her arms.

    Tara frowned, then sighed. “Here. Take this.”

    “What… what is it?” Tara had taken from her pocket what looked like some kind of small leather pouch, with pieces of string tied to either end.

    “You’re not strong enough to use a bow or sword, but you can use a sling.” Tara placed a rock in the pouch, then began to swing it around her head. When she let go of one of the strings, it made a quick ‘thwip’ sound, and a nearby tree branch exploded with a loud ‘crack.’

    “It’s no crossbow, but it’ll crack skulls at short range. Here, try it.”

    The princess looked at the sling with slightly puffy eyes, and took it.

    ‘Crack,’ came the echo down the cave.

    As the princess tiptoed back and climbed quietly into her bed, Tara couldn’t help but think that secret three-hour nightly practice sessions were an odd habit for someone without resolve.

    1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      I really like how you used dialogue to provide us with exposition and backstory. This is something I’m actively trying to practice and improve on. The dialogue and the beats let us know how Matilda felt. Guilt, uselessness.

      So, something you might consider tweaking is the last paragraph. I was slightly confused. Had Matilda secretly been practicing with the sling before Tara gave it to her? It sounds as if Tara just gave it to her in that moment, but Matilda had been practicing for a while with it before this point. Is that correct, or am I missing something?

      Anyhow, good job. You gave us an interesting little moment in an interesting little world.

      Also, slingers…, underappreciated. I’ve actually gotta an idea for a young slinger as well 😉

      1. ate_house Avatar
        ate_house

        Ah, no, the idea is that the princess has just begun to use the sling, but has been practicing hard at it over the last two days. Thanks for pointing that out, I did feel like I maybe cut out some necessary stuff to get it under the limit. Thanks for the feedback!
        Also, agreed. The sling is a weapon that deserves more screentime in medieval fiction and fantasy. Those things are scary, man. Crack your skull right open. The one fantasy series I know of where a sling features prominently is Ranger’s Apprentice, and even then it only gets used in two or three fights.

        1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
          Adrian Solorio

          No problem. Glad I could help. I agree, despite their heavy use in ancient warfare, they’re never really explored in stories. But it looks like I’ll have to put Ranger’s Apprentice on my reading list. Thanks for the suggestion!

  14. Awake In The Night (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By: Makokam

    The house was old and, despite the luxury it offered, creaked like it.

    On windy days it was exceptionally egregious.

    Sera didn’t mind though. She could easily afford an actual penthouse in any of the highrises in the city, but there was something about being able to point at the old mansion and say, “I live there,” that made it more appealing. Even if the only part of it that was actually hers was the attic apartment, and she was responsible for maintaining the lower floors and their historical accuracy. When she’d first come to the city, this job had been a godsend. Now it was barely an inconvenience and the creaks and howls were a comfort.

    As she lay in her bed, half asleep and wondering why, she listened to the house. It creaked and squealed and shook. She imagined it was trying to sing and rock her back to sleep.

    But then there was a rather distinct scrape of a door, and the complaining of the floor as it was stepped on. There was silence from the floor for a moment, and then half a squeak. She rolled over and smiled.

    He always tried to sneak in, but no matter how careful he was, the house would always tattle on him.

    There was no noise beyond the shaking of the house for several moments. She sighed and stretched before sweeping her hand across the bed and pushing the blanket back. “John. Don’t just sit in the shadows.”

    There was a sigh. Then he stepped through the door into her bedroom. “I wanted to surprise you.”

    She smiled and ran her hand across the bed. “You already have. I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

    He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

    She reached up and pulled him into a kiss.

    After some time she pulled away and ran a hand across his face. “You’re hurt.”

    “It’s just a bruise.”

    “But still a rough night.”

    He nodded and she pulled him into the bed.

    1. Lol I think I’ve been watching too many Pitch Meetings on YouTube. I hear “barely an inconvenience” and it makes me chuckle. I also imagine this must be what it’s like when people try to sneak up on Batman. He’s just like… nice try but I’m Batman so… not happening lol.

      As for the actual story, this is really cute! I do absolutely agree with the idea of being able to say you live in a mansion being rather appealing and it’s true, in those old houses, you do get used to those noises to the point that you can just know when something is off. You did a great job describing Sera’s relationship with the house to the extent that the line where the house “tattled” on Jon, got a little chuckle out of me. Great use of the prompt!

      1. Thank you muchly!

        I’m not familiar with Pitch Meetings so you might have to explain the joke.
        And yeah, nothing worse for stealth than a creaky ass house.

        I’m really glad you liked the “tattled” line. I came up with it the next day and ran to change that line as soon as I could.

    2. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      I really like the buildup. I enjoy how you allow Sera and the house to simply breathe. It’s very atmospheric, and I could feel its presence.

      This is also a side of Jonathan that you do not often show. I like it. It’s sensitive and vulnerable and a bit laid back. It’s very teasing like and flirty. I would definitely love to see this side of him more often, but I understand why it’s difficult for him to show it. You can’t feel this way around people you don’t trust and who don’t trust you. There’s also the matter of the way he and Sera fit together differently from his other relationships.

      Critiques:

      He always tried to sneak in, but no ma(t)ter how careful he was(,) the house would always tattle on him.

      I really love the way you used the prompt. Quiet, cozy, tranquil. I also really love this peaceful moment. I’ve said it before, but it is worth repeating: the moments of action are fun and thrilling, but for me, the quieter, more humane, reflective moments
      like this make the characters. Great job, Mako.

      1. Thank you!
        I’m glad the laid back, almost a character study, mood worked for you. And for the critiques. Once pointed out i immediately saw the improvement and made the changes.

        I was worried there was too little going on, so I’m happy to hear you liked that.

        And as for Jonathan, he’s younger here than in most of the stories I’ve posted . I wanted to portray their relationship as tentative but hopeful. I’m glad it worked out like that.

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

      This is absolutely lovely. I don’t really have the energy for long reviews today, but this was a wonderful story.

      “but there was something about being able to point at the old mansion and say, “I live there,” that made it more appealing. Even if the only part of it that was actually hers was the attic apartment,”
      –I love this so much. I don’t know what to call it but its such a cool and vivid detail.

      ” She rolled over and smiled.
      He always tried to sneak in, but no matter how careful he was, the house would always tattle on him.”
      –Also so fun. What a great use of the prompt.

      The atmosphere is so vivid I really feel like I’m there. The details of her character and life are cool. And the use of the prompt is wonderful.

      Amazing job!!

  15. Connor A. Avatar
    Connor A.

    Midnight Trick (Sword Isles)
    By Connor A.

    “Would you mind explaining yourself?”

    Tasha gingerly tugged at her head wrap so it stayed over her ears, taking extra care not to mess with her best attempt at keeping her curls up and out of her face. She stared a hole into the plate in front of her to avoid looking at the hole in Dara’s chest.

    “I didn’t think it was your home,” she admitted. “Mama told me it’s bad to break into a Wyld’s home.”

    “And I am sure she will be relieved to know that I do not wish to see a child go to prison for attempted robbery. Do you remember where you saw her last?”

    She let her eyes fall to her balled-up fists. “She went through the tear in the sky.”

    “…I see.”

    Tasha did not want to look up, but she knew she had to eat. Dara made no sound as she scarfed down her food. It was nothing fancy, but she found herself feeling a lot better than she did before.

    “Do you have another parent?” Dara spoke again.

    “I have a father, but I never met him. All I know is that I can do tricks like him.”

    “‘Tricks?’”

    Tasha stopped moving and closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she opened them, she found the courage to look at Dara as he looked around the room. She pushed herself up so she could stand on the chair and leaned over to grab the cup in front of Dara. The creak of the chair broke her concentration and made Dara turn to look her in the eye.

    “Invisibility,” he stated. There was an odd look of apprehension and curiosity on his face. “If you are willing, I would like to hear more about what you know about your father. Perhaps I can be of some assistance.”

    Tasha backed up slightly and held out her hand. “Deal.”

    Dara chuckled and shook her hand. When she yawned he said, “For now, it would be wise to sleep. Senan can show you to a room.”

    Tasha smiled back at him. “Thank you.”

    1. I like this story. I assume, Tasha is the sound in the night, given her invisibility and all? Or is it Dara and the other Wyld? They remind me a bit of fae, given the in-universe folklore that seems to be connected to them, of not entering their houses uninvited.

      Tasha has some nifty gifts, though I am slightly concerned about what Dara’s planning. He only seemed really interested in her, after she revealed her power, which makes me think he might not have her best interests at heart. I’m concerned he might want to use her for her powers.

      Nicely done!

      1. Connor A. Avatar
        Connor A.

        Thanks! The short explanation is that humans can’t do magic naturally in this world—a general rule is that the more complex a task is (teleportation, mind control, etc.) the less likely a human would be able to do it. So for Tasha to turn invisible without any dire side effects is more than enough to raise some eyebrows. So rest assured, there’s no malicious intent here; this is just Dara being curious about what’s going on and trying to help as best as he can.

  16. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Just a gem

    By Tamela Redfin

    The thought of Radon Cecilia didn’t leave me. It was starting to worry me. Suppose Feldspar Augen found out. That meant I could lose a lot, but something about her scarred face, her beautiful grey skin and that rogue attitude kept bringing me back. What was I to do?

    It was a few days after my birthday, and it was getting late. Would I ever get a response from Sulfur Cora about my research? She was usually much faster to reply. Maybe I could speak with my supervisor, Phosphorus Max, tomorrow.

    As I was drifting off, I heard an ever so quiet noise. It was a scratch, I concluded. “Haha, very funny, Phosphorus Valerie. I’m half asleep over here.” That dumb little prankster, but she was new to the place, so maybe I shouldn’t be so harsh.

    But she didn’t do or say anything, and the scratching only got louder. I knew it wasn’t a cat. Something or rather someone was trying to get my attention. Well, they had it. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”

    I heard a giggle on the outside of my house. A child? “No, I don’t wanna.”

    I gasped, “Wait a minute! You’re Radon Cecilia’s cousin, aren’t you? Well if you won’t see me, I’ll go out to you.”

    There she was, a young cypha sitting down. Unlike her cousin’s jet black hair and pale silver eyes, she had brown hair and sapphire yellow eyes.

    Sapphira waved. “Hi Cameron! I had to dodge a lot of lights tonight to get out here. You’re creeping out my cousin. If you hurt her…”

    “I don’t mean to hurt her.” I replied.

    “I don’t believe you! Cecilia told me humans are bad. Well, she said a different word, but that doesn’t matter. Leave her alone.”

    “I promise I won’t hurt her. I’m trying to help her.” I love her too much, I thought.

    “She doesn’t need your help, okay? Now I have to get home before mom notices I left.” She stood up and ran off, leaving me in shock. Was I that open about this?

    1. I like this story. The cypha interest me, but mostly, I really like how you wrote about the characters here. The conversation between Cameron and Sapphira is laden with emotion and really shows the relationship between humans and cypha, which doesn’t appear to be all that great.

      I wonder what happened between humans and cypha here… Why is a human like Cameron taking care of cypha, when there seems to be so much tension between them? Like I mentioned, the lore here really interests me. One moment, the cypha seem merry and kinda friendly, the next we get Sapphira confronting Cameron about being a bad person.

      Well written!

      1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
        Tamela Redfin

        Hi Alex!

        I can tell you a few things. So our leader, Sulfur Cora, is (to be blunt) racist. She hates that cyphas don’t live like humans.

        This is mostly true, but there are what is known amongst the cypha community as “Badger Cyphas” as they like living in larger groups where they hunt like badgers and sometimes rarely live alongside humans. However, this is a minority.

        Sulfur Cora’s solution is one of darkness and malice. She forces them into a cold desert (since cyphas’ eyes aren’t meant for sand, they can’t dig) so they can learn “to be more human.” It also sends the message to humans “If I can domesticate these creatures, I can rule you too.” This made a barrier between the two groups.

        Hope this answers some of your questions!

  17. Lydia Santiago Avatar
    Lydia Santiago

    “An Authoresses Apotheosis”
    By: Lydia Santiago

    Constant click and clacking can be heard in one midnight eve, despite the tantalizingly comfortable bed right next to her the Authoress would rather spend her caffeinated spent nights with her typewriter. A fascinating invention she could get with the times but the sounds were too addicting much like her coffee.

    There’s an audible snap from behind just outside her window, which must have been a tree branch. Then another and another the snapping continued in an agonizingly irritable pace mockingly so as the snapping sound grew closer.. As the snap turns sickeningly horrific as the branch turns to bone followed by the stretching, stripping, ripping of fabric no skin..?

    “Not again..”

    There’s a sense of dread suffocating the room; the gravity itself pulls you closer to the earth, beckoning you to join the soil as intended.

    “Why.. have you come here..” she knows but she dares not say, spinning her chair to meet the mangled amalgamation of flesh in a pale imitation of a praying mantis. Scythe – like bone paired with a mouthless visage towering over with a hissing cackle.

    It tilts its head sideway in a dog-like manner, boney arms raised over imitating a hug creeping like a centipede.

    Its voice is like chalk on a board straining in a sing-song tone, mockingly.

    “Little.. Author.. Poor Autho..r.. You Write…our Stories… Not Knowing.. Every Word.. makes.. You… Beacon… I Will..Savor… every Bite Little.. Litt..le.. Moth.”

    It lunges.

    The lamp desk shatters, casting the room in darkness, crashing sounds echo in the night.

    Green light slowly glows dimly revealing her hand securely choking the being’s neck that wrecked her beloved typewriter her third eye opened, eldritch symbols etched on her forehead framing it like a halo painting the room green as the earlier feeling of dread heightens tenfold her voice distorts.

    “You could have left me alone.. I would have Immortalized your name in Humanity’s Memory This is the thanks i get? no… you are the moth little one. there’s always a bigger fish you lot’s seem to forget.. You will always be prey and..”

    “I. Am. Hungry.”

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      I love the fear factor. It’s unknown what’s going on, but it covers the uncertainty of the noise at night we’ve all heard. Way to go.

      1. Lydia Santiago Avatar
        Lydia Santiago

        Thank you kindly though id hope the concept itself where clear enough despite the vagueness of it all, i heard that one of the best way to scare people is to leave holes for others to fill in the blanks!

  18. Lorreke_96 Avatar
    Lorreke_96

    Music to our ears…
    By Lorreke

    Luna wakes, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She’s looking out her window. It’s night outside?

    The 6 year old tilts her head as a wonderous melody reaches her ears.

    “That… sounds amazing…”

    The kid grins as she gets up. She goes to grab her coat from the chair before starting to climb down, going outside. A childish curiosity making her go explore the source of this wonderous music.

    Even though it sounds distant, she starts making her way towards the source. “If I can find the people playing, I can bring them home to let mom and dad listen!” She thinks as she follows that wonderous music through the tall, edgy woods.

    Along the way a little Raven, a swift Fox and a rotund Hedgehog join our brave little miss Luna. Keeping the little girl entertained with all sorts of games: racing through the woods, hide and seek, … But always making sure to follow that joyful, pleasing melody.

    Soon, the night turns into day… and Luna has found numerous other animal friends. Creatures being as big as bears, and as small as little mice.

    By now, they all have travelled miles through the woods. After a bit more walking, they finally catch up with the mysterious source of the luring music Luna and the others were following. It seems to be… a single woman, playing nothing but a simple lute.

    “Aaaah, I see you lot finally made it, did you now? Please… why don’t you beautiful creatures go rest from your epic journey? After, we can play together even more!”

    Too exhausted, Luna and her animal friends agree. One by one, everyone falls asleep next to this kind stranger. This’ll become a better home than home…

    ******

    On a morning in September 1996, one topic rose to haunt the town of Bredon forever. The disappearance of all children under the age of 11. None of the families had found their children in their beds when they woke up in the morning.

    Up until today, no-one has laid their eyes upon any of these missing children. Nor heard from any of them.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Whoa!
      At first it reminded me of an author I read as a child, Jan Brett. Her books usually feature various animals and lots of hedgehogs. But then the woman reminds me of a siren, using music to lure her prey. Quite the opposites if you ask me. Great job!

    2. So…were the other animals the other children and she just didn’t notice she had become one too… Or were they part of the lure?

      1. A bit of both 😊
        Kids not realizing they became animals. And luring each other in.

  19. A Needy Little Devil (A Tiefling Tale)
    C. M. Weller

    Lord Kormwind Arachis Felbourne Whitekeep IX, age four, had never slept an entire night in his life. This was a point of contention amongst everyone he knew. He had learned not to seek out Papa in the grey of night, lest he be called ‘Demonspawn’ or worse. Nani, his nurse, would give him lines to write by the light of one candle, which just made the rest of the dark even worse.

    Mama was with Papa, so he could not seek her out. Which only left Bothari, his guard.

    One problem. Kormwind had no idea where Aelechi Bothari had his bedroom, and the castle was immense. Second problem, he was already afraid of the grey of night. ANYTHING could be out there beyond the circle of his vision.

    Nevertheless… he needed somebody.

    Walking in the middle of the hall, navigating by furniture legs and the hems of tapestry because Nani hated it when he gawked about at everything. Kormwind firmly believed that Nani would catch him at any time. In the grey like this, it may well be a relief.

    Knockings and squeaks seemed to follow him as he wandered. Cracks and snaps made monsters in his mind. Sneaking out from closets and under the bed or inside the privy.

    A voice in the dark, “HALT! Who goes?”

    Kormwind remembered the scar he’d got from surprising a guard once. He put his hands up. “Viscount Kormwind, son of the Earl.” And, because he was not a dishonest little demon-kin, he added, “I can’t sleep and there’s noises. I’m scared.”

    The glare of a dark lantern burned colour into his world. Turning him from grey to blue and showing him he’d wandered into the Red Wing.

    “YOU’RE scared?” said the guard.

    Kormwind held on to one of his stubby horns with one hand and his tail with the other. “There’s monsters under the bed. There’s monsters everywhere. I want Bothari. Do you know where he is?”

    It became a hullabaloo. A seneschal was summoned. A co-ordinator was summoned. Eventually, Bothari arrived in his nightshirt.

    “Oh, lad,” he sighed in disappointment. “Again?”

    1. Lorreke_96 Avatar
      Lorreke_96

      Ooooh, I really like this. Brings me back to when I was little and living in a large house. The dark was terrifying!
      The build-up for Kormwind’s little journey, and the disappointed reaction of Bothari, were both golden.
      The story in its whole bring up a nice warm nostalgia as I’m reading.

      1. I remember watching scary stories on TV and then having to traverse a dark hallway as a kid. That kind of memory sticks with us even when us allegedly rational adults occasionally fear things that aren’t really there.

        Kormwind can’t tell himself “mind spooks” like I did. He has Bothari resignedly standing watch as he goes back to bed.

    2. Lydia Santiago Avatar
      Lydia Santiago

      Prop’s for accurately depicting Night vision in greyscale, Tieflings are my favorite dnd race i love how you factored in their biology, while still depicting the fear a child would have with that kind of ability on hand.

      makes the disbelief of the guards all the more relatable, the one who has to hold a lamp to see.

      1. When your view of the world just… drops like a stone after 60 feet, you have to wonder what’s beyond that boundary 😀

        I just love the idea of a self-declared monster being frightened of the dark as a kid.

    3. ate_house Avatar
      ate_house

      I really like the tone of the piece and the general story. It feels comfy, but in the way that the start of the adventure in a fantasy novel would.
      Some small nitpicky points: the double use of “worse” in the first paragraph feels a bit clunky, and the first sentence of paragraph 5 doesn’t make much sense grammatically. I’d assume at least the second one is a result of cutting down on words to fit. I’ve made those errors many a time, and the way I get around them is usually by reading it aloud once or twice before submitting. When proofreading in your head, it’s easy to skip over parts you’re sure are correct, and miss errors.
      Apart from those comparatively small problems, this work is great! I really like how you’ve portrayed the typical prejudice against tieflings, filtered through the eyes of a small child.
      Also, the rhythm of the piece is great, especially in the two paragraphs at the end. Nice!

      1. Agreed on the double “worse”s but child perspective and COULD NOT think of a different word to save my soul.

        I should think of different ways to say things. I know this. I wrote this in one hit and hit EXACTLY 350 words. So shocked I didn’t think to edit. Whoops.

    4. AWWW! Little boy needs hugs!

      And I get that he’s a “Demonspawn” but… he’s still the heir. Shouldn’t there be somebody a little closer to his room just in case? Guess his dad really doesn’t give a damn.

      I like that you worked with his darkvision, but I can’t help but think it’d be worse if he couldn’t even see his own hands.

      Or maybe not. Maybe being unable to see anything is better than being able to see…and then NOTHING.

      Hopefully Bothari can help him out.

      1. Yeah I’m pretty sure Earl Valiant is secretly hoping Kormwind meets with an “unfortunate accident” so he can weasel out of naming a Tiefling as his heir. Nothing he could have done boo hoo etc.

        Yeah Earl Valiant’s not the nicest dude.

        Bothari can only help so much and… it’s hard to keep up with a smol Tiefling with insomnia.

    5. Aww, this is just the cutest thing ever. Scary things being scared always lands with me and it’s even better because he’s CLEARLY harmless, but even so he’s also as clearly not seen as a child by at least the guards just judging from their reactions to his fear. The exasperation clear in Bothari was also a really nice touch to wrap everything all up. Great story!

      1. I just love babby monsters being regular babbies. You can tell.

        FTR Bothari’s probably the only regular person in Kormwind’s childhood who actually treats him like a human being.

    6. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      This was a really cool narrative explanation of how darkvision works and how it can affect characters who have it. I won’t lie though, it took me a moment to remember that tieflings have darkvision. The fact that Kormwind confides more in a guard than his own father is really telling about the dynamic he has with him. Great job.

      1. Yup. Also the fact that Kormwind only knows four total people by name. A baby monster in a gilded cage with _no windows_… such a sad baby, and I can only hope my DM gives him a happier later life.

    7. BlueCafe Avatar
      BlueCafe

      I really, really love this one. The character’s name being so long suggests royalty (at least in my head), and then it followed up immediately by such a young age… instant sympathy points for the kid. The relationships he has with the people around him are made clear in so few words! Kormwind’s voice here was also very distinctly child-like, good job! Poor kid just wants to sleep but no one is around to comfort him. I also really really like the darkvision description you offered– shades of grey and then nothing.

      Oh, and the way he sticks to under the tables and behind things as he searches the too-big castle because not only is he frightened of the dark but he’s frightened of Nani catching him… ahhh. Can I hug him?

      Also also— Kormwind grabbing his horn and tail as an attempt to self-soothe? Somebody get this poor boy a stuffy.

      1. Yeah the boy’s a Viscount and there’s History behind the name. Well spotted.

        I’m glad you want to hug him. I want to hug him too. And give him at least a teddy bear 😀

        You might not like him as a grown demon-boy though. He’s a thorough-going asshole with a heart of gold. And a very understandable Attitude.

        [If you want to see the ENTIRE FOLDER of stories I’ve written including my blue Tiefling lad, PM me and I can hook you up]

  20. Adrian Solorio Avatar
    Adrian Solorio

    The Final Farewell
    By Adrian Solorio

    Two weeks had passed since Noah left home. Two weeks which had become an eternity. He felt like a stranger, and hesitated before he entered. Inside the house, everything was quiet, nothing had changed, and Noah wondered if he’d be able to wake Rita.

    From the sofa, Yuri, Rita’s cat, meowed. The yellow-eyes of the big black tom glowed like embers, and he licked between his padded pink-paws before he spoke. “It’s best to move on, Noah,” he said. “No good can come of you returning.”

    Noah’s eyes sharpened. “Nice trick, but this one’s not gonna work either. You almost had me with my dad, maybe you should have saved that one for last.” He stalked towards Yuri, and the cat raised up before bolting into the shadows.

    “You don’t understand what you’re doing,” said Yuri, from the darkness.

    “So why don’t you explain it? Everything you’ve said since”—he paused—“everything you’ve said has been a puzzle. I’m gonna see Rita no matter what the hell you say.”

    Yuri stepped from behind the TV, stretched, arched his back, and then stared at Noah. “I’ve tried to explain, but you don’t listen,” he said. “Purgatory is what you humans call it, but it’s worse than that.”

    “Purgatory be damned,” Noah glowered.

    “Those who stay past their time are consumed by their pain and anguish. The dead aren’t meant to be in the world of the living. Do you really think rattling cupboards and shattering dishes will change anything?”

    “You said some can communicate—”

    “Some. Very few, actually. Most lose their sense of being, and wind up wandering for eternity. I’ve guided you your whole life—that small voice that kept you out of trouble—but only when you listened. Two weeks ago, you didn’t listen—and you’re not listening now.”

    Noah frowned. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t leave it the way it was. I need to say goodbye.”

    ****

    “Noah!” Rita awoke. Although she saw nothing of her dead husband, she sensed him in the room, felt his presence, smelled him even, and by some miracle, heard him when he said his final farewell.

    1. ate_house Avatar
      ate_house

      This is great! I love how the reality of what’s happening sets in slowly over the piece, it feels like it would make perfect sense both on its own or as a section of a larger story. Also props for having a ghost story with a happy ending, you don’t tend to see many of those.
      If I were to pick one issue with the piece, it would maybe be overuse of the word “said,” but honestly that’s barely a problem and could be fixed by substituting just one or two instances of it for something else.
      Very hard to find fault with. Good work!

      1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
        Adrian Solorio

        Thanks. I’m glad you liked it!

    2. Aww this is such a wholesome story. You did an amazing job building the suspense to the revelation of Noah’s true situation. It’s one of those stories where you get to the end and immediately have to read it over so you get everything in context, which is always a good thing. And I love the ending. I was absolutely gearing myself for an ending where things either went badly or were left up in the air and instead he actually got to say goodbye, which tugs right at those heartstrings. Very strong piece.

      1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
        Adrian Solorio

        Thanks for the positive feedback, Marx. Much appreciated!

  21. The Night is Dark and Full of Beauty (Forsaken Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    Rain sat on the ramp of the shuttle, staring into the darkness ahead, her kaempii eyes seeing perfectly in the night forest of the planet Ozymandias. She saw the shapes of the animals rushing through the tree line, too nervous to approach their lit shuttle.

    But she didn’t want to see. She wanted to listen.

    Behind her, she heard some beeping noises, followed by footsteps.

    “I’ve run the plants we found through the scanner,” Newton reported, sitting down next to her. “No detectable toxins, so… they might be safe to eat, unless the scanner just doesn’t recognize them.”

    Rain nodded, letting her companion talk.

    “Rain? Are you…”

    “Shshsh,” she put her finger to her lips. “Do you hear that?”

    Newton listened.

    “The… rustling leaves?”

    “The animals.”

    She closed her eyes, as a soft chirping mixed with a silent hooting and the occasional howl. Together with the rustling of the wind and the scuttling of tiny rodents, it merged into a symphony of the night.

    “The sounds,” she added. “They’re so… soft.”

    “They’re barely distinguishable.”

    “I know. They’re quiet. A calming kind of quiet.”

    “So is the ship’s engine.”

    “Yes, but that just…” Rain sighed, her gaze shifting downwards. “That just brings back memories. Bad memories. I need a break from space and machines, okay?”

    “I understand,” Newton put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Rain. It is peaceful out here.”

    “Thanks, Newton,” she smiled at him.

    A soft screeching rang out and Rain laughed out loud. It was a clear, powerful sound, she hadn’t heard out of her mouth in weeks.

    “That’s a sound I haven’t heard in a while,” Newton said.

    “I know, right? Sounds like a sirsian, from Obsedia! Like that… what do you call it? Owl?”

    “I meant the laugh.”

    Rain gave Newton a sideways glance, smiling.

    “Didn’t know I still could.”

    “Neither did I,” Newton chuckled.

    Rain leaned her head against him.

    “I miss Obsedia.”

    Newton put an arm around her shoulder.

    “I miss Earth.”

    For a moment, they forgot that they were stranded far from everything they knew and just enjoyed the alien forest.

    1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      Nice! Lovely little story. I really like how you use dialogue and beats, it gives the conversation a natural feel while giving us some solid imagery. This was light and I enjoyed it. Thanks for sharing it, Alex!

    2. ate_house Avatar
      ate_house

      I audibly said “aww” at the end, so if you need any evaluation of how good this piece is then you can just refer back to that. Feels very grounded and un-jargon-y, which is hard to get in sci-fi, and also thank you for acknowledging that ‘scanners’ aren’t magic and wouldn’t pick up a toxin they didn’t know existed.
      There’s a misplaced comma in the paragraph where Rain laughs, and that’s about the full extent of criticism I can give this piece. Maybe the word “added” is a bit out of place? Honestly I am stretching to find any points of improvement here, this is just great and it put a big ol’ grin on my face.

    3. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      There’s some excellent implied character backstory here. Based on the pieces I recall reading set in this world, I don’t think I ever saw Earth mentioned before now. The apprehensive part of me assumes that Earth is in pretty rough shape, but it could just be that Newton’s homesick. Great job as always.

  22. VeryBoringName Avatar
    VeryBoringName

    Surrounded
    By: VeryBoringName

    He stepped onto a branch, it was dead for a long time and dry, snapping like an oversized twig. The sound sent shivers down his spine, especially since he knew what would happen next. The forest was too calm until now, too quiet, he knew what will happen.

    On weary legs he took a step forward, nothing yet happened, then suddenly, a scratch under the leaf of a nearby plant. Then a scritch just up on a branch. Muted, quiet, it was only just beginning, he began hyperventilating, attracting even more sound, he was panicking, for he knew what happens next.

    Then a bzzt just next to his ear, a snarl off to the distance, muted, mocking laughter in the tree roots, a bang behind him, rumbling below him. But most importantly, there was the indescribable sound of pure shimmering, as if a hundred tiny fly wings, all flapped in unison, coming closer. He began to calculate his chances, running would only worsen it, generate more sound as his panicked stampede would crack even more twigs. Yet that was his only option, for he knew what happens next if he stayed in place.

    With the click of two insect’s fangs behind a newly grown pear, and a click and clack of a toy just before him, he started to run. Snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, twig after twig snapped under his boot. A bell just under him, a crack from the branches slowly subsumed as the sound of shimmering was getting ever closer, to him it looked as if the entire forest was getting closer towards him. Yet he spotted his end goal, his home village just after the tree line, he could see the shimmering lights off in the distance. He rejoiced for he didn’t need to experience what always happened next.

    And then the next happened, and villagers would for a long time talk about the thing they found just at the edge of the forest they never wandered into.

    1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      Hmmmm, well this dude should not have gone into the forest, hahaha. I wonder what his purpose in going into the forest was? If he knew the risk, he must have had a really good reason for being there. Well, you gave us a lot of sensory details, mainly through auditory noises. That’s good—I’m actually pretty weak at including auditory details, so I applaud you! Well done!

    2. Lorreke_96 Avatar
      Lorreke_96

      I really adore this thriller! There’s so much hope build up throughout the story… and the way it’s shattered, that’s the way I like my stories 😀
      I’ve read it out loud to my brother when I was first reading it, and we both got goosebumps the more I read out.
      Really good job in my opinion 😀

    3. I love that the consequences are never explained. It adds an air of horror to it because the mind of the audience is firkin great at picturing horrible consequences.

      The thing found at the edge of the forest was definitely the horrible remains of our poor protagonist. A warning to all those who would dare flaunt the forbidden area.

      Little singsong refrains of, “My mother said I never should/play with the faeries in the wood…” come readily to my mind.

  23. You Keep Using That Word, I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means
    By Marx

    There were times when Daisy almost appreciated what Alex had turned her into. Her eyes shot open as beyond the snoring pair of bodies beside her, she could hear the soft footsteps in the distance. Someone was coming towards them and they were moving much faster and quieter than a human.

    Quietly leaving her sleeping companions, Daisy made her way to the door and out of the house, squinting in the direction of the noise. Daisy could see her now, about a mile or so in the distance. The first thing that stood out to Daisy was the girl’s smile. It only grew when she realized Daisy was waiting for her. There was a sudden burst of speed and then-

    “Hi sister! I’m Sabrina!” She exclaimed, appearing in front of Daisy with her hand extended.

    Daisy looked down at the hand and left it there. “Firstly, I’m an only child. Secondly, even if I wasn’t, my family is dead. Thirdly, keep your voice down. Fourthly… go away.”

    Sabrina’s eyes glowed a familiar gold that mirrored Daisy’s own. The smile never left her face, nor did she lower the offered hand. “You are most certainly NOT an only child. Nor is your family dead. There aren’t many of us, but the strong remain. Baptized in his love. Bathed in the pain only he can bring.”

    Daisy’s eyes immediately narrowed. “You’re… Alex’s? One of his thralls? I thought they were all dead…”

    Sabrina’s smile faltered for a moment. “He allows you use his name?”

    “He doesn’t ALLOW me to do anything anymore. I’m free of that asshole. I want nothing to do with him and no offense, but I want nothing to do with you either. I can barely keep my OWN crazy under control. Really not trying to deal with whatever it is you have going on.”

    Sabrina seemed frozen in time before her smile slowly returned. “I understand now. You don’t yet realize how much he loves you.”

    Daisy almost laughed in Sabrina’s face. “Alex only loves himself. I… genuinely pity you if you don’t get at LEAST that much…”

    1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      Okay, this was interesting and left me with a lot of questions. Sabrina seemed so nice, but she’s a cult member. Even though she’s not her older sister, Daisy comes off like an older sister, which was very well done by the way. This did have a tint of sadness to it. Poor Sabrina is lost and confused and Daisy seems very prickly towards her. But, I guess if you left the cult and one of their member’s comes a knocking it’s going to be an awkward encounter. Good job!

    2. When the cult tries to drag you back in to their shitshow… but with vampires[I remember this is about vampires?? I think???].

      Honestly, vampires could easily be a metaphor for cults. They’re already pretty much MLM as it is. Bite ten thralls and you have a chance of winning your very own haunted castle in a blasted moor…

    3. Oh. So that’s how last week happened. lol
      Sabrina is interesting, as she seems to have pre-dated Daisy and … Jasmine(?) yet they didn’t know about her. Wonder what she was up to… And of course she also implies Alex has other thralls still running around.

      Sounds like the intro boss to a new story arc. Or quest line. Like in the RPG where if you go outside during the stay at the in you see a secret conversation and get a new quest.

      Honestly kinda interested in how we got from here to “like a pez dispenser” I mean, I know there was a fight. We just don’t seem to be at the fight yet.

      And Sabrina seems like she could have been a fun character… she seems crazy enough that she could just become more and more desperate for Daisy to rejoin the sisterhood as more of Alex’s thralls fall. Then maybe joining their group as she somehow manages to outlive Alex. … or something. I dunno. Maybe in an alternate universe. Or a fanfic.

    4. Dreamer of worlds Avatar
      Dreamer of worlds

      Good piece captures vampires in a cool way. Very well defined Character in daisy and she really leaps from the page. Sabrina is also interesting. Seeing them just discuss a off page character gives them a lot of humanization which vampire pieces usually fail at in my view. Well done!

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