Writing Group: A Reason to Scream

Oct 25, 2021

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Hello, Thrill Seekers and Pranksters!

What, me? I-I’m not scared! Nothing scares me! Not roller coasters, not scary movies, nothing! What about you? Are you sc-scared? Yeah, m-me neither! I just hope nothing jumps out at us, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

A Reason to Scream

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!

What a perfect prompt to close out this spooky season. And a very fitting prompt, might I add. What defines spooky season more than monsters and tricks? Why, the screams caused by these things of course!

Let’s explore some causes for screaming, shall we? There’s the classic, of course; a group of friends exploring a haunted house. Is it the sort put on by a scout group for fundraising, or is it the kind that everyone talks about but never dares to go near? The scares found within either are very different, after all. Is it all just people in costumes and animated wall decor, or is there someone, or maybe even something, that wasn’t part of the plan? Maybe you decide to visit the local Halloween festival with your lovely date. You have some cheap scares from the dressed up staff, play some games and have some fun. Then happen across a competition where the scariest competitor wins anything from a free game to a dinner coupon… or even a special after-hours tour of the park.

Perhaps the reason you have is less theatric. After all, who wouldn’t scream when coming face to face with actual undead in their backyard? Or perhaps the monster under the bed decided it was finally time to up their game a little. Maybe you’re just tidying up after closing the restaurant, only to see one customer is still seated at their table… and they look oddly transparent. Or maybe your screams are simply caused by the screams of another who had the daylights scared out of them, like your arachnophobic classmate finding a spider on their pencil case, or someone’s partner sneaking up on them with a creepy mask.

There’s plenty of reasons for screaming. Some are good and just in fun, others, not so much. It all depends on the circumstances leading up to it.

So don your masks, practice your monstrous noises, and get the spooky lighting ready.

Let the scaring begin!

—Shawna

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Comments

54 responses to “Writing Group: A Reason to Scream”

Lunabear

November 2, 2021

The Sweetest Haul
by Lunabear (Private Repost)

Chadwick, Horace, and Delaney prowl the streets with full packs and pumpkin buckets. They regale the blustery night with songs of graveyard denizens and laughing skeletons.

“Man, we made out like bandits!” Chadwick grins from ear to ear, his lion’s mane ruffling.

“I can feel the dentist chair already.” Horace rubs an imaginary toothache through his mummy bandages.

Delaney blows a bubble then giggles after it pops. “Yeah, but it’s worth it. Mrs. Albertson gives out the best gum.”

“Hey! No eating any until we get back to my house and check it!” Chadwick’s face wrinkles. “AND we need to count it!”

Delaney pulls the skin beneath her eye down while sticking out her tongue. “Nobody made you boss, Chad! I will turn you into a frog!” She waves her star wand at him and dust sprinkles to the ground.

“That doesn’t even work! Magic isn’t real, Del!”

Delaney marches up to Chadwick and swats at him. His bucket sways. “It IS real; YOU just don’t believe because you’re constipated!”

“What does that even mean?!”

“You’re grouchy,” Horace chimes in quietly. He swings his heavy load to the ground.

“Yeah! My mommy said–”

“Ow!”

Horace is knocked over by a large man. He’s wearing a dark mask.

“Argh! Damn it, kid! Move!”

The man reaches for something in the dark.

Two more masked men breeze by the confused trio.

“Great plan, Uros! ‘It’ll be easy! Like stealing candy fro–’”

“Shut it, Arbor! Get up, Rhines!”

Rhines lurches to his feet, gripping a black pack. He clutches at his stomach and looks at each child in turn. “You say ANYTHING, we’ll find you.”

The children nod emphatically, unable to make a sound.

The night swallows the three men. Distant sirens wail then fade.

Chadwick and Delaney help Horace to his feet. With shaking hands, he gets his pack back on. Tears wet his face.

“W-were they–”

“No, Del! Those were costumes!”

“H–he, he s–said–”

“They were pretending, Horace! You know; a prank! Let’s just get home, ok?”

Chadwick looks over his shoulder as they hurry to safety.

Reply
1. Adrian Solorio
  
  November 2, 2021
  
  Excellent tone setting, dialogue, beats. The dialogue between kids was believable and each one really came through. The disturbance was fitting for a Halloween night, were the men wearing mask, or not? Great job, Luna 👍🏽
  
  Reply
TheAssassin

October 29, 2021

To Drown
By TheAssassin

At the edge of a jagged cliff stood a young lord, lost in thoughts of war. The sun blazed violently, and the clouds churned overhead. Gusts of wind tore through the air and coiled at the lord’s rippling cape.

In his mind, the lord could see only destruction. The war pressed forward. It was like a wave and grew ever larger, eclipsing the horizon. A tsunami scraping the clouds, an imposing shadow suffocating all things – it prepared to crash. With it, the world would fall.

The lord let slip a tear.

An old hand fell upon his shoulder. The frail fingers squeezed gently; the lord’s grandfather never left him alone. For that, he felt both an overwhelming joy and a crushing grief.

“For whom do you cry, m’lord?” asked the grandfather, though the wind nearly deafened his words.

“For myself,” answered the lord, feeling the weight of his failure like a chain dragging him down in the raging sea.

“A selfish thing then, to cry?”

“I am a selfish man.”

“Or you are a noble one,” asserted the grandfather, his voice calm and sure.

“And crying for myself is noble?”

“It strengthens you, gives those for whom you care a window into which they can embrace your soul.”

“And this would be noble? Nobility is strength and weeping gives no strength, as you’ve claimed,” retorted the lord.

“To mend a broken thing strengthens it, yes? So do our tears mend us. They pour into the cracks left by woe, allowing us to confront our weakness and grow accordingly.”

The lord sighed, anger brewing within. “I cannot be mended, grandfather. Can you not see it? I drown in a pool of innocent blood!”

The grandfather shifted his eyes to the sun’s fury and said, “Aye, lad. I see it.”

A moment of tense silence passed. The grandfather’s hard eyes looked at the sun’s burning flames. The lord felt he was losing something important, though he could not describe what.

The grandfather turned and grabbed the lord’s shoulders.

Their eyes locked.

“But you can swim.”

Reply
1. Adrian Solorio
  
  November 3, 2021
  
  This is the story of a king who’s weighed down by guilt which has been brought about by warfare. His grandfather tries to reassure him, and comfort him, and in the end I think he does so with some wise words.
  
  I really liked how you tied the metaphors together at the end. Excellent syntax!
  
  As for constructive feedback, there’s nothing that really comes to mind. This was a great piece of writing. Well done!
  
  Reply
King_Nix

October 28, 2021

“The Eve of All Saints”
By King_Nix

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

October 31st

All has been made ready.
The horses have been prepared.
Father Rodrikson has provided us with ample holy water and blessed ashes.
The munitions are blessed.
Our arsenal has been inspected thrice over daily, and surpasses standards.
The Greek Fire has arrived from the chemists in Rome.

For thirteen days we’ve toiled. We fooled the enemy into thinking our position vulnerable, yet strong enough to necessitate greater numbers to overwhelm. Estimates from the first night placed the enemy at eight; last night’s watch reported no less than fifty.

Their howling screams have mocked us from afar with increasing fervor every night, drowned out by the chanting of our choir. They took the bait, and tonight we spring the trap. No more will the fiends of the wilderness find comfort in the night.
In the witching hour of All Saints’ Day, we give these monsters a reason to scream.

November 1st, the Feast of All Saints

We let them approach our perimeter. The usual shrieking commenced, taunting us to leave our hallowed circle. The one wearing the skin of Private Thomas led the coven in their mocking screams. It had grown into its new attire since I last saw it – no longer did it sport the slavering jaws of a hound, yet it was no closer to appearing human. Its glare always met my own gaze.

Together, we cast our fire into the brush, and the night burst into day. The choir broke into the chant of Saint Michaël the Archangel, keeping time with our rifle volleys. Bullets coated in blessèd ash erupted from guns sprinkled with holy water and tore into the shape-shifting witches. The enemy broke, screaming in terrified agony, but none would survive. We mounted up and I led a charge. We cut them down to the last, by pistol and sword, by shotgun and bayonet.

As the Sun broke over the desolation of our foes, we doused the smoldering earth, and celebrated Mass.

[End of entry.]

Reply
Tyler Chancey

October 28, 2021

Ignorance is Bliss
By. CosmicDesperado30

It was after the third night of pure ecstasy that I could tell something was wrong. That primal survival instinct honed over millennia of evolution tucked away in the back of my mind. I kept ignoring it.

This was first contact, after all. It wouldn’t do well for diplomacy if we ran off like neanderthals in the face of new intelligent alien life. And after so many clinical sessions of honest mistakes and mutual respect, this was a step forward. Like Captain Kirk before us, to boldly go.

My fourth morning with the visitor started off about the same as before. Waking up to a beautiful sunrise set over my childhood home with a passionate kiss on my lips. Their features continued to shift under my scrutiny, but somehow always managed to be attractive. After some playful protestations I’d leave the bedroom for coffee, eggs and bacon. All of it was perfect, Norman Rockwell would freak.

I mused at how well done the illusion was. Holistically, it was perfect, but not at the same time; the uncanny valley on steroids. I knew it wasn’t real, but I also knew they were doing it for me. It was downright romantic, this kind of psychic melding of memory.

It was only after I threw away the newspaper I couldn’t read for the fourth time that things didn’t add up. I knew I hadn’t shaved in weeks, and yet it felt clean. My heartbeat sounded wrong in my chest. Even my strength seemed hollow, distant.

In a hurry, I went to the washroom. Where I once saw a gruff face plagued by bad life choices and bullheadedness, I saw a pristine face, untouched by adversity. But it wasn’t my face. My hair had changed to platinum blond, my eyes were now a glassy cyan.

The same kind of face that had greeted mine for the past three days.

I felt them press into me from behind. My lizard brain’s screams echoed into the ether.

“Come back to bed, honey…” they crooned.

Reply
1. Makokam
  
  October 29, 2021
  
  The whole scenario is pretty cool and subtly horrifying… but I’m very curious as to how this whole thing started. It sounds like he might have been chosen for this…but at the same time this could just be an “abduction” type situation.
  
  Curious what the point of it all is. Perhaps a Borg “You Shall Be Assimilated” type situation?
  
  Reply
  1. Tyler Chancey
    
    October 29, 2021
    
    Some of that did get cut due to word count limitations but I’ll leave that up to the reader to fill in the blanks.
    
    Reply
Adrian Solorio

October 27, 2021

Atonement
By Adrian Solorio

Large bulbous clouds swept down from the snow capped mountains and blocked the moonlight from the forested valley. As the light went, Kaan stumbled blindly over thick roots, and he had to grip a low-branch to keep from falling. He leaned on the tree, giving himself time to adjust to the darkness, for he would need all his senses to find the children taken by the beast.

The villagers—parents—had found him in the tavern. A lone soldier homeward bound. They saw his sword, saw his scars, saw his empty eyes, and they saw how he drowned the emptiness with tankard after tankard of ale, and they knew they had their man—a man with nothing to lose—or in their words, their hero.

“The beast comes in the night and breaks the windows and takes our daughters.” The villagers talked over one another. “It’s the witch’s curse!—The beast was once a man!—Tis a man-wolf!”

Kaan, eyes adjusted, left the tree with a sneer. What fools believed in heroes these days? If they had seen the things he’d done during the war, they wouldn’t think him a hero. But then, maybe this was his chance for penance. Maybe, this would end the nightmares.

Starlight seeped through the cloud cover now, fell through the foliage, and lit up the forest floor. From above, among the branches, owls called; from below, amid the dead leaves, mice scurried; from ahead, within the glow of a campfire, children sobbed.

Kaan unsheathed his sword and entered the clearing. Girls with matted hair, tattered clothes, hands and feet chained, sat in wicker cages above and around the fire. One of them looked up, with large pleading eyes. “Please,” she cried. “Help—”

A kick to the post shook the cage. “This one just won’t shut up,” said Yara, the wild witch of the forest. She glared at Kaan, saw the sword, smiled, and petted an enormous black wolf beside her. “Looks like we have dinner.” She raised her hand, the wolf leapt, Kaan’s sword flashed, and the night was pierced by a furious unending shriek of rageful torment.

Reply
1. Makokam
  
  October 29, 2021
  
  Cool story. I liked how you ended it ambiguous to how the rescue attempt went, but I feel it implies the wolf had a bad time.
  
  I’m curious as to why the things you described where what made them decide they had their “hero” aside from the sword and scars. Did they think he was suicidal? Too drunk to be afraid?
  
  Reply
  1. Adrian Solorio
    
    November 3, 2021
    
    Thanks for the comment Mako, I revised the story after reading your feedback and I think the story is stronger for it. Thanks for the help!
    
    Reply
Makokam

October 27, 2021

By A Thread (Chronicles Of The Dragon)
By: Makokam

Imogene struggled to haul her companion though the forest, cursing (for what was surely the millionth time in her thousands of years of life) her small frame, and her father for doing this to her. She also cursed herself for her hubris and shortsightedness in not studying a broader range of magic.

“Stay with me Vlad!” she cried as she stopped to cast a spell and pulled the life from the plants around them and pushed it into him. It did little to solve the problem, but at least it was keeping him alive.

She did her best to carry him gently over her shoulder as she struggled to get back to his castle where she could actually do something to save him.

Maybe.

It wasn’t even his weight, it was his size. Over a foot taller and twice her width, carrying him was an awkward task and dragging him would add insult to injury. As well as more injuries.

If only she had a cart! Or SOMETHING to use as a stretcher.

She couldn’t even leave him behind to fetch what she needed and bring it to him. As fast as she was, he’d still die before she got back.

She heard movement behind the trees and sapped the life from the creature to sustain him. Whatever spell or enchantment had done this to him still resisted all her efforts to heal him.

She could drain the life from every living thing for miles and it wouldn’t solve the problem!

The only thing she could do to save him was something unforgivable.

And that was something she was willing to do if it stopped her from losing him. She’d studied the spells, the ritual. Every aspect of it was carved deeply into her mind. She’d worked and studied to fix it. But the only way it could work is if he didn’t DIE before she could do it!

She stopped again to siphon up whatever life she could and pour it into him.

“Come on my love. We can have eternity together. You just can’t die yet.”

Reply
1. C. M. Weller
  
  October 27, 2021
  
  This smells a hell of a lot like the origin of Vampires. But that might just be me reading into things because Vlad –> Vlad Teppisch –> Vlad Dracula –> that interesting little novel by Bram Stoker…
  
  Was I meant to connect those dots or nah?
  
  I get the feeling Imogene is going to be in a lot of trouble.
  
  Reply
  1. Makokam
    
    October 27, 2021
    
    >_>
    
    <_<
    
    *cough*
    
    Thank you for the comment!
    
    Reply
2. Marx
  
  October 29, 2021
  
  I think what I love the most about this story is the… practicality I suppose. The fact that Imogene is physically strong enough to carry him, it’s just too awkward to do safely. The situation just paints this picture of frustration in my head. Not to say I don’t love the emotion as well. You can feel her desperation growing throughout the story, and I do love a good saving the one you love in a way that might make them resent you later kind of story. Great take on the prompt!
  
  Reply
  1. Makokam
    
    October 29, 2021
    
    Thank you! I’m glad you liked that part.
    I haven’t read every story, but when I decided on this I figured not many people would go with “frustration” as the “Reason To Scream”.
    
    Reply
3. Adrian Solorio
  
  October 29, 2021
  
  What I liked most about this piece was the magic. It seems Imogene could be necromancer of some sort, using spells that are powered by the life force of living things. Which makes me wonder how Vlad was inflicted with something that doesn’t improve with that sort of magic. Vlad, eternal life, if this is a vampire origin story I wonder if Imogene knew what she was doing with her magic or if she maybe made some sort of mistake. Anyway, good job, you got me the various vampires could have come into being. Well done!
  
  Reply
  1. Makokam
    
    October 30, 2021
    
    Thank you for the comment and good questions!
    I too wondered what could be so aggressively life threatening that Imogene couldn’t heal it by “normal” means. So after thinking about it a bit I concluded that their enemy would know about Imogene and what she could do, and thus took their own efforts to find, or create, something that would actively resist healing through magical means.
    
    You’re also correct in that she is a necromancer. She is also a vampire. The spell/ritual she’s talking about fixing is what made her.
    
    Reply
4. i-prefer-the-term-antihero
  
  November 3, 2021
  
  AH so I’m introduced to your version of Dracula at last!! How exciting!!
  I’ve heard you talk about this scene before so it’s real fun to read the actually read it!!
  
  Something I find really interesting about this story is Imogene’s attitude. In most of her stories there’s a sort of calm resignation to her. Having lived for so long, nothing really fazes her, or even really incites her emotions. (Warriors coming to kill me? *Disappointed sigh* I hope we can clean all the blood off by 8:00). This is I think the first time I’ve seen true passion from her. Even though it’s not technically told from her perspective I can feel her emotions in the narration itself. That she’s desperately looking around for something to heal him. That tells me just how much she cares about him, which I think adds a lot to the story.
  
  The first paragraph is great, and it’s also interesting when you put this in perspective of the other stories with her. She’s cursing for the millionth time…I wonder if today she doesn’t even have the energy to curse anymore.
  
  I really like all her little spells. Taking life from the plants, and then from the animal.
  
  “The only thing she could do to save him was something unforgivable.”
  –Love this line. I don’t know if it’s clear what she did to people who don’t know the larger universe but, knowing what it is, I like how you don’t come out and say it directly. Makes it feel heavier, in a way.
  I also like how becoming a vampire is a really big and horrifying thing to do to someone in your universe. That’s probably how it should be treated in most vampire stories, but it’s really not.
  
  Great job!!
  
  Reply
5. Josie
  
  November 18, 2021
  
  This is intense. It’s short, but most definitely demands all your focus and attention because OMG //he could die.//
  
  Reply
Papileser

October 27, 2021

Just the Wind
By Papileser Eilitharl

The dense shadows of the woods seemed impenetrable to Cedric, the orange glow from his torch barely piercing the darkness. The winter winds whistled through the bare branches of the trees like a choir of lost souls, the icy cold piercing his iron-plated armor. The gathering snowstorm had burst overhead just in time for Cedric to take watch.

When Boris had jostled Cedric awake earlier, he grumbled, “You’re up Ced. Might wanna bring a cloak.” Cedric cursed himself for not taking the advice. His bones felt like they were covered in a thin layer of frost, though the torch gave some warmth. He rounded the southern corner of the camp and was blasted by the frozen droplets in the wind.

As Cedric lifted his hand to cover his face, a strange sound echoed across the forest. A woman’s scream came from the woods. “Was that just the wind… No there it was again!” Cedric bolted toward the distressed sound.

He ran for what he thought was five minutes when the sound suddenly stopped. As he was whirling about, he realized his tracks had been buried by the snow. The wind suddenly roared with a mighty gale, knocking the torch from Cedric’s hand, smothered by the snow. The shadows of the forest rushed forth, leaving him blind, cold, and hopelessly lost.

Cedric stumbled about searching for a path or landmark. He searched frantically in every direction for nearly an hour, until he could move no longer. Limbs frozen stiff he collapsed against a dying tree. In his fading vision he could see something moving closer.

A horrific figure of snow and ice crept toward him, it’s icy gaze pierced him more than any cold. The monster let out that ear-splitting shriek of the woman he heard. Cedric realized his helplessness as the monster leapt toward him, all he could do was scream.

Back at the camp, Boris heard a sound like a scream from the woods. He strained his ears listening for another. Hearing nothing else, he thought to himself, “Just the wind.”

Reply
ate_house

October 26, 2021

The Martyrdom of Saint Rosalind
by ate_house

Rosa’s covered in scrapes and cuts, some from the undergrowth, some from Magic, but she can’t stop running now, not with demons at her heels. She turns, whispers a Word quieter than a moth’s wingbeat, and the treeline bursts into flame behind her as Magic cuts a new wound into her cheek in return.

How could the demons be this far north? Every report they’d received for months said that the attacks had halted. Was it possible they had only been gathering strength? If so, they were taking land quicker than any messenger could ride. What monsters could be capable of that?

A horrid, skittering thing with ten legs, black as coal and bigger than any wolf, leaps at Rosa from her right. She whispers another Word, but in her panic she says one of the syllables too loudly and takes too much. Instead of cutting a hole into it, she obliterates the demon in its entirety. The vision in her right eye goes red as Magic pays her back for the theft.

Rosa realises that she doesn’t know where she’s been running. Her village could be anywhere. She tries to reorient herself, but the treetops are thick with leaves and the sun is hidden.

She runs, heedless of direction, but the demons are gaining on her quickly and her adrenaline is fading. She uses another Word, but she’s speaking almost audibly now. Ten demons break apart and her left leg collapses beneath her, twisted backwards with a crunch.

The village is visible from this cliff, she realises dully. Even her one working eye, blurred with tears, can see the tide of scuttling black encroaching. There’s nothing she can do that will save her family and friends. Nothing but this.

She forms the Word in her mouth and screams it, and every demon in a thousand miles curls up dead. And Magic, that ancient and terrible creature, hears her.

The traditional offerings to the clifftop temple of Saint Rosalind are silver pins or coins, white roses, and soothing salves. The priestesses apply these salves to the statue when it bleeds.

Reply
1. ate_house
  
  October 26, 2021
  
  Not sure if this is kosher or if it’s too violent, please tell me and I’ll delete it if that’s the case.
  
  Reply
  1. Papileser
    
    October 27, 2021
    
    I don’t think there’s too much violence in the story. I believe that it is a necessary part of the story in this case so it’s acceptable to use it.
    
    Reply
2. Papileser
  
  October 27, 2021
  
  I really enjoy the idea of Magic being something of an entity rather than just another ability characters have. It gives it more of ancient, unnatural appeal that you don’t normally see in most depictions of magic. The concept of having Magic be an even trade off with the user is also a very interesting concept to me, making a far more dangerous ability than wondrous. The idea of using magical abilities being theft from the entity, Magic, is a slight bit confusing but I can see how it ties into the “eye for eye” concept. Overall a really good work!
  
  Reply
3. Connor A.
  
  October 28, 2021
  
  There is so much I love about this piece. The immediate consequences to using magic and ways to lessen the damage, the way the action starts and doesn’t stop until Rosa does, and the idea that demons seem to at least be common enough to need messengers about what they’re doing are the main things that I could pick out of this piece.
  
  I would say that the one piece of critique would be that the ending paragraph seems really disjointed from everything preceding it; after a second read through I realized it was something people did to honor Rosa’s sacrifice, so it might have just been how I read it. Aside from that, this is a really solid story.
  
  Reply
4. Marx
  
  October 29, 2021
  
  Holy crap! This story is amazing! I love it so much! This is such a unique take on magic and that is hard to come by. The fact that Magic is a being that Rosa is technically stealing power from is very intriguing. And you did a great job showing how the power is supposed to work and how it works when you use too much of it, making the ending a great pay off. That is definitely not the best power to use in such a hectic situation but that just made it that much more enthralling.
  
  Very well done!
  
  Reply
5. Makokam
  
  November 8, 2021
  
  A rare universe where a Wizard needs Constitution as their highest stat.
  
  I assume the temple was built TO this character? I’m curious as to the statue bleeding though… was she turned into a “statue” as payment?
  
  Reply
Alex

October 26, 2021

Predecessors (Darkspell Universe)
By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

Max turned on the light of the stairs leading down into the basement underneath the charred ruins of the old manor, which once belonged to Azamod Aerenhardt. It was the anniversary of the legendary engineer’s death and Lilith Aerenhardt was here to pay her respects. She’d asked Max for company and he’d agreed, if only for a chance to see the manor.

“What did you keep down here, mate,” he muttered to himself, as he looked into the basement, totally untouched by the flames. “Is this where you kept the secrets to creating your golems?”

Max descended the stairs, slowly and carefully. The smell of clay became extremely pungent. A soft moaning echoed from the room. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“Did you mess with ghosts as well?” Max tried to see something in the barely functioning ceiling lights.

The ground was uneven and he had to take great care not to trip. It felt soft, not like cobblestones or floorboards, like he expected. Maybe Azamod just hadn’t bothered making a proper floor.

“I need more light,” Max cupped his hands, muttered a spell and released a ball of light into the air.

He immediately wished he hadn’t lit the room.

The walls, ceiling and floor were covered with faces. Half-dead faces, some mouths hanging open. Faces made of clay and with glowing eyes. Faces in agony.

Faces, whose bodies had been fused together in some perverse unity, stuck together, crushing and cutting each other forever.

Max recognized them as golems.

“Aerenhardt?” he asked, hoping he wouldn’t get a response.

One of the faces nodded, slowly. Max approached it, placing a hand on its cheek. So this is how Aerenhardt treated his so-called failures. Not just unloved, but thrown away like garbage and forgotten.

“I’m so sorry,” he said to the golems and stepped back.

If he still could have, he would have screamed at Azamod Aerenhardt, the greatest mind of their generation. How many of Lilith’s predecessors were sentient and had been thrown away, because they weren’t what he’d wanted? I couldn’t bring himself to ask.

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Tamela Redfin

October 26, 2021

All Seeing Augen

By Tamela Redfin

The secret must be kept inside. But, is there such a thing as a secret that truly remains secret? My mind was filled with the lovely Radon Cecilia. Someone was bound to find out.

I was walking when I saw Feldspar Augen. “Guden Mort Phosphorus Cameron. I’d like you to come with me.”

“Uh yes Feldspar Augen. But why me?” We walked through the sand and snow on the ground. I should have known something was up.

“My dear sweet Sulfur Cora is worried about you. She said she received a recording in the mail from about a year ago? It was talking with that wretched traitor.”

“You mean Radon Cecilia, right?” I curled my eyebrow.

“If that’s what you want to call her, sure. Your tone was positive and we aren’t sure why.”

“What’s the problem?”

“After March 14th, you started acting strange. Kindness. Especially being kind to the ‘Radon Cecilia’. The glowy look in your eyes. Talking with her cousin.” He pulled out a bonesaw from behind his back. “I know what you’re up to, Cameron!”

“Wait, were you…”

His pale red and blue eyes twitched “Aware? Yes dear boy. Don’t worry, I won’t use this. Not on you.”

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” I screamed.

“Who’s going to stop me? Not you for sure. Or maybe I’ll make you do it.” Feldspar Augen smirked. No! “It will be okay. Sometimes to remove the poison, you need to cut the wound.”

“What would Sulfur Cora think?” I gasped.

He gave a large twisted smile. “She’d love it, Cameron!”

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1. Alex
  
  October 26, 2021
  
  I like this one. I love the voice you give Feldspar Augen here. Every word he says sounds like he’s speaking in a really soft and scary voice. He seems like a really intimidating person (I might even go so far as to say villain). Not gonna lie, when he took out that bone saw, all kinds of nefarious images moved through my mind.
  
  Cameron seems genuinely scared for Radon Cecilia here and it does lend Feldspar Augen even more weight. I don’t think he is a cipher, but he certainly seems the type to treat them pretty horribly. Especially, because of the way he talks to Cameron about his “kindness” towards Radon Cecilia.
  
  Well written!
  
  Reply
  1. Tamela Redfin
    
    October 26, 2021
    
    Glad you liked Alex. And yes, that is how I picture Feldspar Augen talking. It adds to him.
    
    Reply
ThatWeirdFish

October 26, 2021

The Mountian and the Wind (The Depths Files)
By ThatWeirdFish

Trip peeked through the peephole into Downcast’s office. He was out on an assignment. Perfect! It took a few tries with a paperclip, but the door opened. After slipping in and locking it again, he grinned.

“Alright, mate,” Trip rubbed his hands together. “Let’s see what ya got.”

Sure, Downcast didn’t have the most exciting life. But he couldn’t be that boring… could he? Trip tried every drawer he could reach and climbed up to the ones he couldn’t.

Files. Just rows and rows of case files. A few of the mortals looked cool, but that wasn’t what Trip was here for.

He perched on top of the cabinet and scanned the room. “Where else could ya be stashin’ stuff….” Trip mused as he stroked his goatee.

Plant? Too obvious, and it bites. Desk? Also, too obvious. If there was a rug, maybe. But the whole floor was a dull grey carpet.

His eyes lit up when he looked at the bookshelves. Of course! There were books he hadn’t tried yet! He leaped to the ladder of the far one and leaned, so it rolled to the end of its track.

“Alright, from the top,” Trip said as he started pulling the books out one by one, working his way down.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No string, no lever, not even one of those laser thingies. Trip groaned and checked his progress. He was on the third shelf of nine. And there were four more sections on this side alone. So… too many books to check each one.

“ARG! Ya know what, mate!” He yelled and jumped to the desk, knocking over a lamp and a pencil holder. “COLOR!” He flung his arms out, and the room’s color scheme switched from greyscale to garish technicolor. Then he crossed his arms, sat down, and sulked as he waited.

Five hours later, Downcast returned.

“I redecorated,” Trip huffed.

Neutral as ever, Downcast looked over the once pristine room with an apathetic glance. “Hmph.”

Reply
1. C. M. Weller
  
  October 26, 2021
  
  Speaking as a self-confessed riffler of bargain bins, it’s moderately easy to sequentially tilt entire rows of things to see if any of them are switches to secret rooms. Trip gave up a little too quickly IMHO.
  
  Though I do love their version of petty revenge, turning the room into an eyesore.
  
  Fun alternative punchline – there IS a secret room, but all that’s in there is a safe containing a single note that reads, “Nice try.”
  
  Reply
  1. ThatWeirdFish
    
    October 26, 2021
    
    To be fair, Trip ain’t the brightest lad.
    
    (Also the curse of word count. Arrrg!)
    
    I like the safe idea, though. Downcast defiantly has a safe hidden in his office, but it only contains legal documents and maybe some currency. In other words, it would be just as disappointing to Trip as the note.
    
    Reply
Connor A.

October 26, 2021

Unexpected Turn of Events (Helsing: Vampire)
By Connor A.

“And you’re sure you didn’t catch what the guy looked like?”

Quinn stared at the interrogation room’s table. Would the officer even believe them if they told the truth? That their new professor was a vampire and saved them from becoming a serial killer’s next victim?

“I…” Quinn began, completely giving up on trying to hide the quiver in their voice. “I just want to go home.”

“And you will,” the officer responded with a fake sincerity, “but I need you to tell me anything that can help this case.”

Before Quinn could insist that they did not know, a figure entered the room. The officer was the first to respond, “How did you get in here?”

Quinn turned next, and their teeth almost pierced their tongue as they held back a scream.

There he was. Professor Van Helsing. He was in fresh, non-bloodied clothes and appeared like the nice middle-aged man they met earlier that day. But the faint scent of metal reminded them of what they witnessed.

“I am terribly sorry officer,” he spoke with a Dutch accent, “but I heard what happened and came to make sure my assistant here was alright.”

The officer looked back at Quinn. “Assistant.”

“Ah, how rude of me.” He took off his hat to reveal reddish hair with a few gray streaks near his temple, “My name is Abraham Van Helsing. I am the new professor at the local university.” He took a card from his jacket and handed it to the officer. “Perhaps we can discuss this when my assistant has calmed down from this night’s events?”

Quinn watched as the light faded from the officer’s eyes. As she took the card, she looked over at Quinn and said with a monotone voice, “You’re free to go.”

Quinn stood up slowly. It took Helsing clasping a hand on their shoulder and guiding them to the door for them to start moving their feet.

“I know you have questions,” he whispered as the two walked out, “and I have answers.”

“Then tell me.”

“Tomorrow, in my office. Alright?”

“…Fine.”

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1. C. M. Weller
  
  October 26, 2021
  
  Interesting twist on the original _Dracula_. Van Helsing is _also_ a vampire and is going around doing hero stuff or at least saving his immediate concerns from having a very bad night.
  
  [Shades of _Forever Knight_? I dunno. I’ve absorbed a lot of vampire media over the years]
  
  Is Quinn going to get Turned or work alongside Van Helsing as a mere mortal? Enquiring minds wish to know.
  
  Reply
  1. Connor A.
    
    October 28, 2021
    
    Thanks! The vampire Helsing idea was something that came up while I was reading Stoker’s novel; I think it started as a joke relating to how he calls Dracula a child a few times, but then it took a life of its own after that.
    
    As for Quinn, I don’t plan on having them turn into a vampire. They’re sorta a blank slate aside from their in-universe role as the one that read the sources pertaining to Dracula the way it’s presented in the novel, so this stance could change in the future.
    
    Reply
2. ate_house
  
  October 26, 2021
  
  As C. M. Weller said, I like this twist on Van Helsing being a vampire.
  
  This piece feels like the middle of a plot, and what I can read here makes me want to read what comes before and after it. The fact that it’s a run-of-the-mill “real world but with vampires” means that you have to have characters and situations compelling enough to stand on their own, which you’ve definitely got here. I wonder how the conversation with Quinn’s professor will go?
  
  If I have one criticism, it might be that the second paragraph is a bit too expository, and it gives me in one sentence information about the situation that I would’ve liked to infer from context, but to be fair it’d be hard to set that up under the word limit.
  
  I really like this piece, it felt very natural and smooth to read, and delivered an interesting situation to boot. Nice work!
  
  Reply
  1. Connor A.
    
    October 28, 2021
    
    Thank you for the input! I agree that the line explaining the context for the scene wasn’t the best. The piece was supposed to be the actual scene that the line referenced, but for some reason I couldn’t get it to work for me the way I wanted it to. It’s a shame, but there’s always time to do it outside of word limits.
    
    Reply
C. M. Weller

October 25, 2021

Message in a Corner (Cordelia’s Journey)
C. M. Weller

She found the letter in the bottom of her chest. The last thing to unpack in her new life. That poor devil-kin, what was his name? He’d asked her to read it when she felt safe in her new life. She’d nearly forgotten it was there at all.

Reading it was overdue.

He hadn’t begun it with her name, he didn’t even use the word ‘dear’. Just, Lady, in ornate swoops. The rest of it was a far plainer hand, economising with the space on the page.

I can only hope that your life is proceeding well, and that you are happy, he had written. If all has gone well for you, you have found a place you belong. Everyone deserves that luck. My simple wish for you is that you find your peace and happiness.

But first, a confession. You promised to find me when you have your legs, but I know that you may not want to. To find me is to come willingly to the fate you have avoided. I was not just born in Whitekeep. I AM a Whitekeep.

My true name is Kormwind Arachis Felbourne Whitekeep, ninth of the name. Firstborn of the Earl. You would be better to stay away.

He signed it with a K, but Cordelia barely looked at it. The page crumpled in her white-knuckled hands.

She wanted to punch his handsome blue nose in. Black his glowing golden eyes. How DARE he? All those looks when she said she’d rather eat glass and chase it with acid than marry a Whitekeep… and he’d never said more than, “I was born in Whitekeep.”

As if that was all he could say in defense.

The rage at the man built up inside her heart. He could have said something, anything at all. Yet he chose to bow to her wishes and open statements instead of giving her the truth.

Not her brother-in-law. Her HUSBAND.

Damn the man, and damn her for loving him still.

She could not give voice to a scream. All that came out was a whispered, “You asshole.”

Reply
1. Alex
  
  October 27, 2021
  
  It’s interesting to see just how much can be said about a character and a dynamic, just by looking at a letter. The fact that Kormwind decided to start with “Lady” implies that he might have a certain distance to Cordelia, but the tone suggests that they have a past (also, by what is implied about Kormwind maybe proposing to Cordelia at some point?).
  
  I love how you convey emotions here, especially in the latter half. First, it’s just Cordelia recounting the letter and it is a bit neutral, but I do really like her reaction to the letter. Her body language and the capitalized words really show how angry she is and I can totally see her being about to scream. And the cold, silent phrase at the end was amazing. Cordelia’s angry strikes me as the kind of anger that hits slowly and quietly.
  
  Well done!
  
  Reply
  1. C. M. Weller
    
    October 27, 2021
    
    Trying to distance, at least. I have a whole bigger thing in my mind for both Cordelia and Kosh and it will NOT fit inside 250-350 words. As I stated, I have no intention of selling this, so the complete thing may turn up on AO3 one day.
    
    Assuming I ever sit down and write it complete. I have fragments. I may eventually stitch them together.
    
    BUT… Kosh and Cordelia were arranged to be married, Cordelia thought she was marrying Kosh’s brother [who’s an ass] hence the whole broken glass thing.
    
    There’s going to be stupidly dense pining and I’m loving it.
    
    Reply
2. Connor A.
  
  October 28, 2021
  
  Man, if Cordelia did scream out of rage at the end, I would have said, “Good for her.” From my vague recollection of your past works I can see why Kormwind would want to hide this from her and I can respect that he asked her to put some distance from him as a way to respect her wishes, but that kind of moment can still pack a punch. Great job.
  
  Reply
  1. C. M. Weller
    
    October 28, 2021
    
    I’m definitely going for “they were arranged to wed and didn’t know it and now they’re being confused doofuses about their feelings” type long-distance-pining slow burn.
    
    Plus or minus a dash of fake death/presumed death and hefty mourning. I dunno if I want that much angst juice yet.
    
    Reply
3. Makokam
  
  October 28, 2021
  
  This was both heartwarming and terribly sad. Though, I suppose a lot of things can be.
  
  I love that she almost lost/forgot about the letter. Just puts even more distance between them.
  
  I really like Kormwind. I’m not particularly familiar with your other characters, but he’s the first one I really came to recognize, so that says something at least, right?
  
  This story really makes me curious about Cordelia. I’d love to see what came between this and the last time we saw her, as well as the next time they meet. As I’m sure they will.
  
  Reply
  1. C. M. Weller
    
    October 28, 2021
    
    Depending on the prompts, it may even be the first time they met 😀
    
    Who knows.
    
    I’d love to develop Cordelia a bit more. Make her a real character. And draw out the ridiculous romance between these two.
    
    Reply
VeryBoringName

October 25, 2021

I’ll give you a reason!
By: VeryBoringName

He twirled the knife in his hand, as if it was a commodity, a stylish addition to their fancy, if blood soaked dress. He hummed to himself a whistling tune as sounds of gunshots ranged in some faraway tunnels, he wasn’t particularly bothered by them.

“Please, man, I just work here!”

Pleaded the man in what looked like riot armor, now with holes ripped, exposing pockets of skin. A condensation on the screen of his helmet indicated breathing. The man with the knife placed his finger under the screen, then gently, as if unveiling a lover’s gown, he lifted it up.

“I don’t really care.”

He said, as a twisted grin on his face formed, while his hand placed the knife on the man’s cheek, cut.

“Please! I have a family!”

“I’ll send some condolences, and some bits.”

The man with the knife straightened up, looking at the pitiful figure of the guard slouched against the concrete wall. His mind racing ax it pinpointed some fun spots to…

“What is your name anyway?”

“Reinforcements will be here soon, just let me go and I’ll- ah!”

The man winced in pain as an unseen force squeezed on his guts.

“More playthings, I really don’t care, you’ve jailed me, and others like me for too long. Now, what is your name?”

“Why do you ca- AH!”

Yet again the guard was cut off.

“I said: NAME!”

“Dave! My name is Dave Simons!”

The guard cried out. The man with the knife crouched down, and lifted the man’s head up.

“Dave, do tell me, do you have a reason to scream? I don’t mean, a whisper, or a squelch, or a whimper. I am talking an ear-bursting scream?”

“I do not.”

“Well Dave, I’ll give you a reason.”

The man with the knife patted the helmet of the guard as if he was petting a pet, careless of what he was about to do. He could hardly care about the fact that the riot will be put down eventually. At least once, he’ll have some fun.

Reply
1. Papileser
  
  October 27, 2021
  
  This story builds the tension and suspense rather well. The man with the knife is definitely a good reason for the guard to scream, especially as he seems to be seeking some sort of pleasure from the moment.
  
  My only complaints are the small spelling mistake in the 8th paragraph and the name being a little bit on the nose. Otherwise a really great story!
  
  Reply
Marx

October 25, 2021

Deal or No Deal
By Marx

“What do you want?” Matt grunted, narrowing his eyes as he sat on the bench. “I thought you already refused to help me.”

Lilith moved seductively closer as Matt took the offered seat. “That, my dearest Matthew… was Hell’s offer. This is mine.”

Matt raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What do you want?”

“Relax Matthew, it’s nothing you wouldn’t do anyway.”

Matt crossed his arms. “If it’s that easy then why are you willing to betray your boss for it?”

“Always so suspicious, Matthew! Honestly! The things you must think of me.” Lilith leaned against Matt, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Seriously… What do you want?”

“Your protection.”

This caught Matt’s attention. “My protection? From who? Lucifer?”

“Silly boy… I chose to work for Lucifer. He isn’t a threat to me.” She giggled. “YOU are.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s very simple really. I’ll help you with your incubus issue and in return, you spare me in the apocalypse.”

Matt’s features immediately darkened. “For the last time. I’m not the horseman of Death! There will be no apocalypse.”

Lilith playfully booped his nose. “Then promising not to kill me in it should be easy.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“Excellent! Just say the words, Matthew. Say your officially decree to spare me and I’m all yours.”

Lilith was grinning ear to ear at this point. This had been so easy! But her smile began to fade when Matt opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out.

“C… come on, Matthew. You just have to say it.”

Matt continued trying to speak and still nothing would come. Lilith could tell he wasn’t messing with her because he somehow looked even more surprised and frustrated than she did.

“…Matthew…?” She whimpered quietly.

“I… I can’t say it…” Matt grumbled in both shock and irritation.

“Matt… please, just… try again…” Lilith insisted, her panic not even hidden. “I can wait…”

And Matt tried again. Over and over. But the words refused to come. He looked over, attempting to give Lilith an apologetic look only to see that she was gone. She’d run away.

“Dammit…”

Reply
1. ate_house
  
  October 26, 2021
  
  Ooh, I like this. Matt clearly doesn’t want to be a Horseman of the Apocalypse, but he sure as hell is one. You’ve managed to get me hoping that Matt and Lilith and the ragtag group they inevitably collect along the way will find a way to stop the end of the world, and you did it in 350 words or less.
  
  Maybe a little more elaboration on some things would be good. I don’t know what Matt’s “incubus problem” is, or what Hell’s offer was, so it’s a bit difficult for me to fully grasp what the stakes of the situation are.
  
  Lilith’s character is great, and you managed to establish it with a fairly small amount of writing. I’ve got a list of positive and negative character traits for her in my head already, which makes her immediately feel interesting and human (despite not being one).
  
  Reply
  1. Marx
    
    October 28, 2021
    
    Thank you so much! See, I actually do the same story for all my prompts, so believe it or not all your questions from Matt’s group, his goals to not cause the apocalypse, his incubus problem and all that have been answered in previous submissions. But I just can’t get into all of that in the 350 word limit. So I tease lol. Really happy that you enjoyed it and want to know more though!
    
    Reply
2. Makokam
  
  October 28, 2021
  
  Well shit.
  
  Apparently the only thing stronger than him is Fate. (and /maybe/ God. Like GOD God. Which, I think in your universe, is not the same entity that tried to SMITE him earlier. Or am I wrong? They seemed on good terms the one time we saw them meet.)
  
  But I kinda love and hate how she just ends up panicking and running. Cause like… he clearly wanted to promise to spare her and… Just seeing him apparently unable to even say the words was clearly terrifying for her.
  
  I don’t think I’ve felt pity for a character like her as much as I do right now.
  
  Reply
  1. Marx
    
    October 28, 2021
    
    That’s the main reason that I made fate more of this… force as opposed to a being. I didn’t want its rules to be something that could be bent by talking to them, nor did I want them to be an immovable being that refuses to budge. I just wanted it to be a situation of, these are the rules. That’s that. There’s no fighting it. It’s basically that realization that truly breaks Matt in the “dark” timeline. Fate is what he really wants to go to war with.
    
    And fate is also the reason why God was so cool with Matt lol. He’s just like, do what you want bro. You’re GOING to destroy all of this even if your efforts to not destroy this are what in fact destroys this because the ending is written. You’re just filling in the pages up to that point.
    
    As for Lilith though. Yeah. Definitely one of those situations where the longer you live the more you fear losing that life. And it’s kinda like… meeting Goku or Saitama in real life. They’re so chill and unassuming, you could absolutely see yourself just bro-ing out with them. But YOU know they can break the planet with their pinky. So if you found out that they’re going to kill you and that’s basically written in stone, it would be pretty terrifying being around them because… what can you possibly do about it? Lol
    
    Reply