Writing Group: The Sinner and The Saint

Hello, Troublemakers and Goody-Two-Shoeses!

You know those little voices in your head? Some refer to them as a conscience, but others talk about a devil on your left shoulder and an angel on your right? Do you think those are real? Could you tell me about some experiences you’ve had with them, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

The Sinner and The Saint

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

We’ve seen it everywhere. Different genres, different stories, different times and worlds. All of which have one thing in common. 

The duality of good and evil. Yin and Yang. For every light, there is a shadow. So on and so on.

But now is our chance to explore this duality ourselves, really see what the differences and similarities are between these driving forces. You could write about the classic, of course, a devil and an angel’s conflicting views on a situation. Perhaps the angel is trying to guide a soul to do the right thing, while the devil whispers in the other ear to follow temptation. But you could further break this down. Yes, the angel is guiding them to do right by expectations and what path is set for them, but maybe the devil is telling them to follow their own heart, what they themselves want to do with their life, to live in a way that they would be truly happy with. Break from the path set before them by tradition and live for themselves. Perhaps the Saint and Sinner here are a pair of twins who both love to play mischievous pranks on their family and friends, but one always blames the other and manages to get a lesser punishment for it. One is painted as good, while the other is painted as trouble, yet the roles are actually reversed. 

But maybe they aren’t conflicting at all. Maybe another way to look at this is how the two sides can work together. What if the sin is simply “I’m gonna have an extra piece of pie for dessert” and then they compensate by working out a little more the next day? Or perhaps one person is viewed by many as bad and untrustworthy, but one person decides to step up and actually talk to them? The two could, against all odds set by the world around them, become best friends. They could learn one isn’t so bad, and the other isn’t as perfect as others make them seem. They feed into each other and balance each other perfectly.

They say good will triumph over evil, but without any evil to compare to, there is no real good, is there? One must exist for the other, and vice versa. Good and bad, light and dark.

Yin and Yang.

So listen to the voices whispering in your ears. Which will you listen to… or do you know of a way to make them work together?

—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.

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Comments

123 responses to “Writing Group: The Sinner and The Saint”

  1. Knight’s duty
    By Pryzma (Drago)

    It was insufferable. Truly insufferable!
    She hated herself and everything else about this situation. She hated the nauseous feeling every time guilt was suffocating her after feeling a hint of attraction. Hint of appreciation. Hint of twisted yearing.
    And she hated. That gods damned smile.
    Especially now. Especially now when the blood was soaking into the earth. When lifless body was laying in front of The Beast.
    She was a knight. Bound to protect those in need. Bound by the oath. To be the sword upholding the law. To be The Justice.

    “You know sweetheart. Your life would be much easier if you’d just let go of your silly naivety. ” dragon mocked her while cleaning his claws. Black scales painted in red. White sharp teeth now pink, sending her another smile. She could not determine whether or not he was genuinely smiling at her or just plastering another layer of irony. Knowing him, probably both.

    She could not understand why she was so attracted to this show of brutal power. It was disgusting, and she failed her duty. Someone DIED because she was too weak. And yet, her body was warmer than it should. And once again she wanted to throw up.
    He. Just looked at her with quiet pity.
    How dare he.
    How dare he looking at her like that.
    There should be no place for an empathy in that monster.

    “You know. ” he started with gentler, quiter voice “I don’t really think of you as an enemy. Just… a little misguided.”
    SHE’S the one who’s misguided here? What a smug insufferable bastard.
    She was the human, and he was the beast.
    Yet, she was the one who growled like animal right now. She raised her sword.
    “Right, right. I’m leaving.” he said while dragging the dead body behind him.
    He just turned his back on her. What does he think? That he can just walk away after all atrocities he’s done?
    She will kill him now. And break the cycle of violence!

    She watched him go, in silence.

    1. Interesting story. Curious as to what the context is. Or at least what happened in the last five minutes. Is she bringing him…”offerings” or something? Or is she just constantly trying to kill this dragon and it keeps killing her party but sparing her?

      Also, might want to give this another look over. There were a few missing words and other small mistakes.

      1. A little bit closer to the second interpretation but not exactly!  (they are both saints and sinners haha) I am kinda hoping to get more of their story as series of (awfully unchronological) one-shots with this tale foundry prompt thing. (Literally joined discord yesterday and had to wrote it immediately because the promt was perfectly fitting this story I had in my mind.)

  2. RubyFlash15 Avatar
    RubyFlash15

    Would it be better laughing with the sinners or crying with the saints?
    By RubyFlash15

    A teenager attempted to do a kickflip in front of a crowd. He failed and launched off his skateboard into the asphalt, getting a good cut while doing so. As he looked at his cut and got help from a stranger, a chuckle loomed from a man on a park bench nearby.

    “What are you laughing about?” a woman close by to the chuckling man said.

    “You know what I’m laughing about: you just saw it happen.”

    “Yeah, but why are you laughing about it? Someone getting hurt is not funny.”

    “I mean it’s a little funny. You know, watching someone try to show off and messing up.”

    “I disagree. I think it’s sad and should be seen as such.”

    “I don’t think there’s any merit in being sad about such things. I mean, bad stuff happens all the time: if you’re always sad about it you’ll never find yourself being happy.”

    “I mean sure, not being happy all the time isn’t the best, but it’s certainly better than getting a kick out of other people.”

    “I don’t know about your guys’ little philosophies, but I think both of you are wrong about one thing.” The stranger who helped the kid tend to his wound spoke up, having quietly watched the conversation from the sidelines.

    “Oh, and what’s that?”

    “Y’all actually need to help the people out.”

  3. Lunabear Avatar
    Lunabear

    Tilling the Heart’s Soil (Detective Ryan Norton)
    by Lunabear

    Bitterness clashed with the whiskey churning inside of Detective Norton’s gut.

    Casey Nelson. A vivacious, invigorating young woman. Beaten and mutilated like an animal. All because some perverted psycho slinking through the shadows wanted to play God.

    Detective Norton was sure that for as long as he lived, he’d never forget the wretched wailing of Casey’s father.

    With the morgue in his rearview, he turned his collar up against the bracing wind. New evidence revealed that Allan Greer, a previous suspect, had been exonerated in the case. More to the point, their Jane Doe still hadn’t been identified. Even more frustrating was the fact that DNA found on both the Jane Doe and Lacey Fairchild, a surviving victim, hadn’t provided any matches either.

    Back to square one.

    Norton scowled as his hand gripped the empty cigarette carton in his pocket. The pressure increased so viciously around the offending package that he was sure he heard his knuckles crack.

    Gnashing his teeth, Norton stopped and forced a harsh, calming breath through his nose, holding it for several heartbeats.

    He studied the people ambling about, blissfully oblivious of the danger on the streets. What type of panic would ensue should the disgusting underbelly of the city be exposed? The very thought turned his stomach. He released his breath in one guttural exhalation.

    In his left peripheral, a church stood tall and proud. Its pristine, stained glass windows beckoned with light and warmth. Its facade offered a comfort and refuge he hadn’t sought in decades.

    The heavy bell doled out nine solemn clangs. Norton was transfixed. His heartbeat doubled its speed.

    Norton swallowed thickly.

    Head bowed, he shambled inside. The empty oak pews shone within the flickering candlelight.

    The eerie quiet was far too loud.

    Norton glanced briefly at the huge cross then ran one hand through his salt and pepper hair. The Hail Mary hung precariously on the edge of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak it.

    Instead, he rolled his shoulders back and cast his gaze heavenward. He glared at the arched ceiling until his eyes misted over.

    1. A saint living in a world of sinners. At least, that’s how I would interpret your take on the prompt. This was a seriously interesting piece. I can’t help but wonder, are Casey and Ryan Norton related? The way Ryan talks seems quite detached, but they do share a last name. Then again, his detachment can also just be a coping mechanism.

      I love your vocabulary, especially when it comes to describing Norton’s state of mind. This case is weighing on him and it shows. He seems like he cares a lot (maybe a little too much). It’s a good setup for a Noir-type story.

      Well done!

    2. I found this story to be a little hard to get into at first. I think the fact that there’s so much backstory made the intro feel a bit too exposition-heavy when parts of it weren’t necessary for the emotional payoff.

      All in all, however, I like the story. The POV character seems very interesting, and his reactions to both the good and evil in the city tell me he has things he’s hiding. Reminds me a bit of a Sherlock Holmes quote (which I can’t find right now except for the adapted version from the BBC Sherlock show) that goes something along the lines of “I am not a good man, but I fight on the side of the angels”.

      1. Lunabear Avatar
        Lunabear

        Thank you. I’m very glad you enjoyed this piece. Admittedly, I understand that the intro is incredibly expository, however, I found it necessary for the story. Granted, I could have just left it at Casey’s death, but I kind of like having it in there. This may be my writer bias, but I think it helps him to catalog certain events. He also prefers to get bad news first and analyze the more negative side of things.

        I’m very thankful that you like Detective Norton. However, I did not see him as a Sherlock Holmes type. He’s more Humphrey Bogart with just a more stoic, hard-boiled edge. But I really do like that quote and your take on him.

        1. Oh, no, he definitely doesn’t come across as the Sherlock Holmes-type in his actions, Norton is certainly leaning more towards Noir. It was merely the quote that came to mind.

    3. This was a really cool story. Sounds like it could be the start of a whole detective noire story.

      I was surprised this went on from the one victim. I thought it was going to focus more on trying to find the killer, but the theme of struggling against a… city of sin (Man, you could make a comic series (and maybe a movie) out of that.) was pretty cool.

      The ending was kind of odd though. Wasn’t sure if that was just supposed to be him crying or if something else was going on. You’re no stranger to writing the supernatural after all.

  4. Ballad of the Eternal Recurrence
    by Alexsander Edwards (Eddy)

    I cannot sleep. In my head, millions of voices scream to be heard, each one louder than the last. They pray for attention, for guidance, and for their fate.

    Most of them are doomed, fated to fade away. As, with my right hand, I can call fire and burn it all down when these worlds don’t interest me, while the left hand freezes others in time, in the hopes that I one day find pleasure in it again. And then, as I breathe, new worlds are born and their denizens spread throughout the cosmos.

    It’s a constant death and resurrection show, except there’s no audience.

    The cycle has been with me for longer than even I can remember. When it first started, most of the creatures I watch over had no concept of time to begin with. And now, most have no idea of the many preceding universes that I have destroyed. Ideas come into play, I create them in search of meaning, and then I destroy it all when their menial lives reveal themselves to be useless to me. And so it goes.

    The ever-recurring events are tiresome. Nothingness preceded me and there will be none to be my successors. I play both creator and destroyer. To these beings, I do not exist. Every denizen of these uncountable worlds is incapable of seeing me. And yet, their fate and mine are intertwined.

    And so I still maintain the cycle. Looking for something ever-elusive. Breathe life. Observe. Burn. Rethink. Repeat. And I am tired. The voices never leave me. Beings wanting a world to live in, humans desiring company, or mortals wishing for their dismantled worlds to be returned. A constant barking of ideas and desires that never goes away.

    Perhaps I should simply drop my pen and walk away. There’s no point in pretending to be an artist, after all.

    1. Ah, see, here I thought I thought I was being clever when I planned to comment “Sounds like the life of an author”.

      Unfortunately I can’t really say much else about it. It’s a metaphor, but that seems about it? I’ve obviously felt the same though. There were a few “bio” sections over the years I filled in with “Creator and Destroyer of Worlds”.

      So…good story! Very relatable.

      1. It was, admittedly, born from a moment of extreme frustration with being unable to come up with stories and then deciding “fuck it, I’m using that frustration as the premise, ‘cuz if that’s all that’s in my mind right now, I might as well use it.”

        I’m glad it’s enjoyable, even though I can’t help but look at it and feel like it’s lacking.

    2. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      Aha. Love the subversion of the deity archetype, Eddy. I love how the last line changes everything about the story. This narrator is the sinner and the saint.

      You describe the frustrations of an artist incredibly well. There’s a push and pull here that goes unseen. I especially love how you describe the artist as burning the worlds with the right hand and freezing it with the left. This, to me, reads as the artist being ambidextrous. Burning could indicate a fast moving hand across the page, flying through creating the character or the world or setting. We could also mean setting the paper on fire or tossing it away or erasing it. Freezing can be a gradual slowing down and eventual stopping all together of the current artwork.

      I know you expressed trepidation about it sounding too preachy, but I love it. If I dig enough, I can find the religious connotations with the right side of it, but this is an overall really well executed story. There’s a lot of angst and vivid descriptions here. Can’t wait to see more. Thank you for writing and sharing this.

      1. I honestly didn’t even think of the idea of ambidexterity, but I can see it. This was born from the frustration of being unable to write any piece of fiction for the entire week, so the line was essentially a metaphor for throwing away story ideas and shelving others.

        I feel like I might’ve overdone it on the angst aspect, since that was my state of mind at the time of writing (probably in great part thanks to depression, since it has its ups and downs that we just can’t control), but I’m glad it’s at least enjoyable to some people.

    3. Oh wow! I love it! There’s such a nice harmony in your words! They read almost like singing, one melting with another. I also like how you slowly build the scene, our understanding that we are dealing here with some godly power. I’m also sucer for existential crisis and inevitable death of universe so. Aaaand then skipped the last line and realised my mistake only after reading comments xD
      Plot twist was very funny! Love, what’s better than suffering of the author. (Suffering of the characters obviously)

  5. Twangyflame0 Avatar
    Twangyflame0

    A Message on Dusty Wings
    By Twangyflame0

    It was the dead of night when the priest heard the sound of wing beats outside of his home. The elderly priest grabbed his holy symbol and shakily held the candle from his nightstand. The wind shook and the branches outside rasped against the windows and walls. The floorboards creaked under the weight of his slow, tentative steps, sounding like moans in the back of the priest’s mind.

    That sound, that buzzing which slowly pushed a dirge into the priest’s sanity. What horrific manifestations from the black pits of the mind could he have conjured up? It must be a dream… right? But that sound…

    He walked from his bed chamber into the rest of the church where the buzzing got louder and louder. It wasn’t cacophonous, but it felt heavy, weighing on his very soul. He could feel his dry, wrinkly skin become drenched in sweat, like someone walking towards some kind of unseemly doom.

    He then walked into the sanctuary of the church, where he found the origin of his newfound, pulsating, and paralyzing fear. With only his small, singular candle to illuminate the space, no form could be seen clearly. The only tell of its massive, not-entirely-human frame was its red eyes that glistened against the darkness around it.

    “Back, foul creature!” The priest held out the symbol of Alyna.

    The only reply was that droning sound increasing in volume. The red eyes glowed vividly and the priest could see the beginning of a vision. It beheld disaster and fire. Ruin and chaos. Terror and the cries of the innocent.

    The priest gritted his teeth and held the icon of the goddess forward. “No! I shall not partake in whatever dark deeds you have designed! Now, by the power of the goddess, I banish you– I banish–”

    The creature suddenly flew upwards and away. Its message was ignored, and the town’s fate was sealed. The priest would breathe a sigh of relief tonight only to end up the last man standing tomorrow.

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      Twangy, I’ve missed your stories, man! Excellent form with this one! It feels very much like a throwback to the demon fighting of old. I got a very Middle English century vibe from this.

      The descriptions are very expressive. I felt like I was right alongside the priest in the story.

      The floorboards creaked under the weight of his slow, tentative steps, sounding like moans in the back of the priest’s mind. (This line is a particular favorite of mine.)

      Tension is so strong and palatable here. My heart was pounding right along with the priest’s. You give enough description of the monster for it to be frightening while also allowing the reader to fill in a lot of the details with their own imaginations.

      You leave the reader off in this fun and interesting middle ground. You show the events leading up to the ending of the story, and then you give the outcome of this without showing in between details. It’s really great.

      I really phenomenal story, and I’m so happy that you got to post this. I’m so happy that I got to read it. It is outstanding. I look forward to what you post next. Thank you for writing and sharing it.

  6. LewdCharizard Avatar
    LewdCharizard

    The Enemy
    By LewdCharizard

    “You could have lived the last decade in a monastery and the stink of depravity would still rest upon you, Demonhost.”

    “It’s the law of the city. All are welcome for Saints’ Day.”

    “You see any buildings yet? This isn’t the city.”

    The knight rested his hand on his hilt.

    Then he smiled and said, “You know what? If you want to burn under the saint’s eyes, be my guest.”

    The knight brushed past, showing his back to me.

    —————————–

    I took room in The Demon’s Finger inn. Horrid little place to match their horrid little sign with its horrid little severed finger. The innkeeper showed me its namesake.

    “It’s from one of your kind!”

    “Yes… I can see that.”

    “If things had gone different, it might be me staying at The Human’s Finger, eh?”

    He laughed.

    ———————————

    I waited for the saint in the mouth of the alley, at the back of the crowd. My teeth and nail beds itched, ready to extrude into claws and fangs. If I let them, the itching would stop. If I let them, blood would flow. The saint was near.

    The crowd began to shout and cheer, then, like a hurricane, silence fell.

    She was carried on a platform by four, horned attendants. Each one was a match for the entire human honor guard that flanked the precession, and each one was within claws reach of the saint. Even one of them would have been too much for me.

    I freed my throwing knife at my waist, holding it loosely. Repetition etched the shape of the hilt into my hand. Practice replaced thought. In two heartbeats, the saint would die.

    I raised my knife-

    She saw me.

    -and I burned.

    And so long as the saint lives, I will continue to burn.

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      Lewd, this is an incredibly excellent story. It took me a few readers to understand most of the context, but that’s simply because that’s how my brain operates, and you layered this so well. The prompt is front and center, and I absolutely love it.

      You show up front that the demons are outcast from the city, but because it is Saints’ Day, they are granted a pardon. You show how some people, ie, the knight, openly despise demons. And you also show how other people, ie, the innkeeper, seem to treat them as a novelty and not really take them seriously.

      Aside from the demon trying to kill the saint, demons don’t seem to be as malicious as myth would suggest demons are. I feel as though Demonhost wanting to kill the saint at all is compulsion from his part. As the last line states, he burned again under her eyes. It feels very much cyclical, as though it’s a dance destined to be hosted by fate forever.

      Repetition etched the shape of the hilt into my hand. Practice replaced thought. In two heartbeats, the saint would die. (These are awesome sentences! These show that he is an expert at wielding the weapon and creating an incredibly vivid image for the reader.)

      I have no idea how you managed to get so much character and emotion in this short story, but I support it. Very great storytelling, and really great emotional highs. I have no idea if you have any plans to continue this storyline, but I would love to see more from it, if you haven’t already introduced it before the story. Demonhost appears to have so many depths waiting for exploration. You do an outstanding job of getting the reader inside of his head. He seems detached and intriguing. I am super excited to see what you post next. Thank you so much for writing and sharing this one.

    2. This is a neat story. Though I don’t feel like I understand the full context. Is the perspective character a full demon, or half? Were the “horned attendants” also demons? Was he literally burning? And if so, why weren’t the other demons? IF that’s what they were, that is.
      Why did he want to kill the saint? Aside from being from opposing factions. What does he or his people gain from her death? Is she a war hero, and the reason humans won against demons?

      I’m mostly curious about all this because, well, it’s a really interesting story! But I also feel kinda bad for the perspective character. Maybe if he’d succeeded it could have helped his people, but since he failed I feel like that’s only going to make things worse for them.

      Maybe I shouldn’t care though. Maybe he’s not a good person trying to do anything for his people. Maybe he’s just trying to kill her out of spite or anger and they don’t care about what happens if they succeed or fail, outside of the saint living or dying.

  7. When The Man Comes Around (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By Makokam

    Jessica curled under the bed, eyes wide and staring at the door.

    From outside she could hear shouting, screaming. There were gunshots. She could hear the crackle and thunder of lightning. She could smell burning.

    There was the cracking of wood and the shattering of brick.

    There was crying, sobbing, and dripping.

    A louder crash than the others, followed by a long scream from outside the apartment before another, distant, crash.

    And then all that was left was the sobbing.

    And then it was quiet.

    Jessica waited. And heard…footsteps. Walking around the other room.

    Curiosity got the better of her. She slowly crawled out from under the bed and across the room to the door. She tried to breathe as quietly as possible as she peaked through a bullet hole.

    There was a man. One she’d never seen before. He walked from one person…one dead body to another. Eventually kneeling and tearing the shirt off one. He used it to wipe blood and dirt from his face, then his hands, before tossing it to the ground.

    He reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He shook one out and put it to his mouth, already lit. He took a long breath, and held it as he looked up at the ceiling. Then let it out slowly. The smoke drifted out through the hole in the wall.

    He sighed and the cigarette went out. He put it back in the box and the box back in his pocket.

    He turned and stepped towards the door.

    Jessica gasped and scampered back to hide behind the bed.

    There was a knock at the door. “Jessica?”

    She sat up, but didn’t speak.

    “Do you mind if I open the door?”

    “It’s locked,” she answered, reflexively.

    “Doesn’t matter.”

    There was a moment of silence, then the door opened with the splintering of wood.

    The man took a couple steps into the room then crouched down and looked her in the eyes. “My name’s Jonathan. I came to take you home.”

    1. Yes! I love it! I think this puts me in the mind of the Daredevil hallway scene but from the point of view of the boy he saved. Just utter chaos going on on the other side of the door but unable to see any of it. Probably for the better in the case of Jessica. The sobbing being in the background of it all until its last and then that being silently snuffed out paints one Hell of an image lol.

      In fact my only real criticism would be that I wanted more lol. Kinda like… Jonathan using a dead man’s shirt to wipe his and hands. I’d assume that was blood? But knowing he was covered in blood(if he was, he could have just worked up a sweat lol) would have added to how terrifying he would have initially looked to Jessica, just for that payoff at the end, that he’s also the saint as well as the sinner in this one. I did really like how polite he was about coming into the room.

      All in all a very cool take on the prompt!

      1. … Apparently I refreshed the page without posting my comment. (Or, worse, I submitted on some other story by accident. O.O )

        Anyway. I fixed the them/then problem, and added the mention of blood and dirt on him, which I swear I meant to include in the first place.

        I’m glad you liked it so much! I was disappointed that I ended up liking my last story so much when it couldn’t be read, but it seems people are liking this one too!

    2. Lantis Armstrong Avatar
      Lantis Armstrong

      He’s the saint and the sinner. The action hero from the point of view of the person they’re saving actually would be pretty terrifying, right? Imagine seeing John Wick outside your house and wondering “okay, did I upset a dog recently??” But for real, that’s kind of cool, we have all the same context for this rescue that Jessica had, which is that there’s a crazy person killing everyone outside. It’s so tense right up until we realize what they’re there for. I like this story!

    3. LewdCharizard Avatar
      LewdCharizard

      Is the title a reference to the Johnny Cash song? The beginning has the vibes of like a WWII firebombing. And, I since I felt it was a widespread destruction, I figured Johnathan was a looter, which I suppose he was, but not like an incidental looter, but the cause of the destruction. To reference back to the song, he would be Death that sits on the horse, and the destruction would be the Hell that follows with him. The descriptions of the destruction is 10/10, real good stuff.

      1. It IS a reference to the Johnny Cash song. To a degree at least. I’m not sure just how well it fits, but it reminded me a lot a scene I loved that used the song, so I thought it fit at least a little. But I’m glad you think it does as well!

    4. A nice interesting take on superheroes here, I like it. Reminds me a bit of Marvel Comics, where there’s always a new reason for civilians to hate superheroes.

      Except, in this case, Jonathan really does make it easy to be afraid/hate him, with all the violence. He’s really not a good guy, and yet he’s also a savior at once. The dialogue also feels very natural to me, and the entire atmosphere really captures what I feel things would be like if superpowered beings truly existed.

      1. Thank you thank you. ^_^

        Fear, yes, hate though? I dunno. Maybe without the context that this was a rescue, but any time I thought about bringing up her being kidnapped it felt too early or drew the attention away from what Jessica was paying attention to.

  8. Calliope Rannis Avatar
    Calliope Rannis

    Grinding The Gears (Nyx/Alice’s Story)
    By Calliope Rannis

    I was trying out a new tavern for the first time. It was a little inelegant and crowded, but the secluded booth I found was quiet enough for reading. Overall, it was a pleasant experience. Until SHE walked in.

    I walked into my old haunt, stinking of sweat and booze like it always was. I was a little tipsy and that felt good, but the patrons were the same as ever. I expected it to be another dull evening. Until I saw Her.

    She slipped into my booth, casually sitting opposite me like she owned the place.

    When I sat at her table, she looked up at me with a strangely plain expression. Almost innocent-looking.

    Her breath stank of alcohol.

    Her clothes smelt like oil.

    Her eyes were dark and hungry.

    Her eyes were bright and calculating.

    “You’re new.” She stated the obvious with a thin, fanged smile, not seeming to care what that revealed.

    “I travel.” She said, her face unchanging. Her head tilted slightly. “Do you talk to everyone like this?”

    I glanced around the room, seeing how the drinkers at nearby tables had discreetly moved elsewhere. Great. She was THAT kind of tavern-dweller.

    My eyes pored over her face and body, looking for weaknesses in the armour of her expression. Because I KNOW she saw my teeth, and people always react.

    “Most people are boring. But you look interesting.” Her smile turned into a self-assured smirk. “Pretty, too.”

    Aaaah. There it was. That twitch of the jaw, the slight frown on her face, the tightening of her fingers. Actual emotions!

    Ughhh. Of course she’s trying to seduce me. And probably feed on me too, that’s what her kind does, right? I should go.

    She abruptly stood up. “Good-day to you Miss. I must be going.” Awww, so soon? Typical.

    “Oh, it’s Nyx.” As if I would ever want to know her name. “Hope to see you again!” She said with that same horrid hungry smile.

    She almost ran out that door. A darn shame. Maybe I should…nah. Too early in the eve for that. Another time, perhaps.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Nice!

      I like seeing the back and forth between the two. It feels real.

    2. LewdCharizard Avatar
      LewdCharizard

      It looks like you’re doing a sort of back and forth structure, but the three sections from “My eyes poured over her face…” to “Aaaah. There it was…” are the same character. The change in the pattern makes it a hard to parse who is who from that point forward without second guessing. The structure, while a bit of a departure from the norm, works very well to show contrast, especially in the descriptions of their smell and the look in their eyes. The echoes are very nice, too. The capitalized words in THAT and KNOW and especially in aaaah and ughhh.

      1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
        Calliope Rannis

        Actually, the paragraph beginning with “Most people are boring” is from the other character’s perspective! I can see how it got confusing though – because the dialogue of one character is always heard from the *other* character’s perspective. XD

        I am glad you liked the overall piece though! ^w^

    3. Lol I could absolutely see this being confusing for anyone not catching onto then perspective changes. But I frickin loved this. For multiple reasons. It was a very interesting way to tell a mirrored story and being familiar with the characters just made it all the more fun.

      It was also interesting to see Nyx in that… drunk but still having fun because she hasn’t taken it too far yet state of mind. And likewise, the other story I remember of Alice in a bar, she was completely oblivious to the person flirting with her, so I’d assume this happens after she’s had some experience with this. Or the fangs were just a no go. Safe way to be in this case either way. Don’t see Nyx as the follow instructions type she would need lol.

      Was pretty much on board as soon as I realized who the sinner and saint were and this was not a disappointment. Well done!

    4. Twangyflame0 Avatar
      Twangyflame0

      This is a very interesting story. I don’t know these characters but I can see the relationship between, as well as all the romantic shenanigans that I want. I also really enjoy the way you set up this story. The formatting was a really interesting, even though I did kind of struggle with it. I kept reading lines that were in the wrong headspace and I didn’t really know who was supposed to be who. I’m interested to see where this goes or if you have written any other stories about these two.

    5. Fun story. The formating could have used some work though. I was able to follow “each paragraph swaps perspective” for the most part, except for one point where i’m 99% sure it didn’t.

      Curious what Nyx wanted. If she was really just looking for a bite then she wouldn’t have intentionally flashed the fangs, right?

      And she’s a vampire right? I seem to remember her dissmembering something in another story and that feels more…werewolfie. (Not that vampires can’t and haven’t) But Alice seems to not see the prospect of being “fed on” as a life threatening prospect either.

    6. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I really liked the shifting points of view in this story. Seeing each of the characters from different points of view and their inner monologues and reactions as well as speech. It produces an interesting effect, and its an extra treat that it is two of your characters interacting with each other.

      I confess though, I had just a little trouble keeping track of who was speaking or whose thoughts we were hearing. I understood for the most part who was speaking/thinking in each line though. Just that it was a little hard to follow at times too. But I expect that is sorta just the result of having to explore interplay between two character’s points of view combined with a short amount of words to work with. If you had had more word space you could have perhaps had more expanded details and full paragraphs from each of their points of view, which would have reduced the confusion. Or perhaps doing something like writing the story like a play script, with each character labeled before each line to make it clearer to the reader.

      Still overall a really neat and fun story!

  9. Bubble Gum
    By Wingman

    The sweetest smile reflected back at me in the mirror as I reflected on my outfit. The bubble gum pink jacket perfectly matched my boots and leather purse. I slid my lip gloss into the cross body bag that landed mid-thigh, just above the hem of my white cotton dress. The ringlet curls and natural makeup completed the look.

    A stop by the convenience store on my way gives me a chance to pick up a melon popsicle and a pack of Double Bubble to add to my purse. The smile I give the cashier gets me an employee discount. I blow him a kiss on my way out the door and he tells me to come back again soon.

    It’s fun to alter people’s perception, like a game. I can craft exactly the person I want them to see me as with just a touch of effort and a soft tone to my voice. A smile and sweet words get most people wrapped around my little finger.

    I continue down the street with a touch of a skip to my step. The park is a couple klicks from here but my window of opportunity would be open for a while yet. I meandered down the riverside and ate my melon pop as I went.

    The first park trashcan took my popsicle stick and gum wrapper. I glance around the park, reconfirming the layout I had previously studied. The brush on the far side, my destination. A path wound around the brush, but I slipped into it. The leaves concealed my presence without blocking my view of the gazebo near the other entrance to the park.

    From here I can slip onto the path that wraps around the brush and to the mall. I double check my target at the gazebo matches the description as I pull the matching pink sidearm from my purse. A quick check of the slide and suppressor sets the stage. A final pop of my bubble gum and I take aim.

    After all, the saints must die.

    1. As an aside: I wrote this wearing bubble gum pink sweat pants and fuzzy jacket.

    2. First thought: Oh no the look-into-the-mirror-self-describe cliche. Nuuuuuuu…

      Second thought: OH, there’s a REASON for that.

      I love the imagery of a pink fluffy assassin being dismissed as a threat by anyone because “haha girl” [I mean it takes a CONFIDENT cis man to wear that outfit] and that’s the reason they get to skip away without consequences

      If you’re wondering about the mirror cliche. Every middle-aged English professor writing a book about a man’s conflict in leaving his wife for a younger prettier student has the Perfect Pixie Dream Girl describe herself in a mirror. Along with “breasted boobily onwards” it’s become quite the red flag to me. But you’re good. You have a good reason.

      Also liking that the self-insert fantasy persona here is the sinner XD Not many writers do that.

      1. Haha yeah, the self description in the mirror thing always has its drawbacks… But it was definitely purposeful! I’m glad you like it!

  10. Lantis Armstrong Avatar
    Lantis Armstrong

    Old Sinner
    By Lantis Armstrong

    Archbishop Lanfranc had come to a wicked place unaccompanied by his stalwart crusaders, knowing full well the mortal peril in doing so.

    Death and decay clung to the air like so much mold clinging to the cold stone walls. The vile swamplands surrounding this immense gothic castle had invited so much of itself into these poorly maintained halls; the archbishop’s once pure, white robes became caked in mud and mildew before he’d even made it halfway to his destination.

    Lanfranc grimaced while looking down at the grime coating his attire. Was a shame, he’d taken so much care in making himself presentable to the castle’s lord before leaving the caravan which brought him here. To the archbishop, appearances were everything.

    The doors to the throne room creaked open, the hinges crying out like the moans of the damned wailing in torment.

    “Again you come,” the three hundred year old vampire slouched so deeply on his throne that he was nearly laying down.

    “Yes, Lord Balearic. But this time you did not send your minions to try and slay me,” Lanfranc replied.

    Balearic rolled his eyes. “The gall of you. The nerve. I told you if you returned with your guard again I would put your heads on pikes. And you had the audacity to take my words literal, and returned without your guard. I should flay you alive.”

    “And yet you lift not a hand against me. Have you reconsidered my words, old sinner?”

    Silence hung thick as the stink of the swamplands around them for a long moment. Balearic faced Lanfranc for the first time.

    “Yes. I have reconsidered. Even after these long centuries, it seems I’m still the same naïve dreamer I was in my youth. Take my immortality, Lanfranc. Show me what a man of God would do with such powers. Prove to me that true good exists.”

    And thus came to pass Archbishop Lanfranc’s unopposed thousand year reign of darkness and tyranny, by the end of which the land would be scorched irreparably and no life would ever flourish again.

    1. I really liked this. It was obvious from the beginning that the archbishop, while being a man of religion and stuff, was definitely not a good person, and I kind of wish Balearic really put his head on a nice shiny stick – but he gave him his immortality. Which I instantly thought was really stupid, but maybe I’m just way too pessimistic; I don’t think there can be something like ‘true good’. And I was right, as the end of your story proved, but… I kinda wish I wasn’t.
      So… yea. This is a good one, it was also very easy for me to picture the scenery, thank you.

    2. Ooohhh I like this. No true villain ever sees themself as one and this story holds that theory SO very well.

      I am in awe.

      Like, I TRIED to write a villain who saw himself as a hero for my entry, but yours is just way better on doing that theme than mine. Props. The whole thing with the protagonist causing a thousand years of darkness and tyranny after most of the story is him calling the other guy a sinner? Chef’s kiss. MARVELLOUS.

      10000% love.

    3. What a fascinating take on this. The idea that a saint can so easily be turned to an “Old Sinner” by taking the power and immortality of the vampire is much like how power can corrupt some of the best people. The last sentence threw me off a bit because it seemed to be written in such a different tone compared to the rest of the story.

    4. LewdCharizard Avatar
      LewdCharizard

      I was wondering if Lanfranc was going to be corrupt in some way because of that line about his pure white robes being caked in mold and mildew. Great subtle forshadowing. Love to see it. And the description of Balearic slouching makes it seem like he does have some motivation behind transferring his immortality, even if, as a naive dreamer, he would have some motivation to keep it so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. Nice work

  11. Can’t Be Undone (A Tiefling Tale)
    C. M. Weller

    He expected the devil to arrive, but not to see his perfect angel son at the beast’s right. As if he belonged there. Valiant found it offensive, but did not know where to direct his anger.

    Spitebane seemingly chose to be there. The spawn of evil was the one dragging his feet, glaring Valiant down as if it was HIM who was a fate worse than death.

    Look in a mirror, sometime, Valiant thought. He took command. “Well? What in the seven hells have you done to my wife?”

    The devil in the family defied his anger. “What do you think I’ve done to her?”

    “She’s laughing at me,” Valiant growled. “Every time I chance to see her, she’s… SMILING! She’s started to skip in the halls. She’s… she’s… she’s out of control.”

    “Out of your control,” said the blue devil in black. Everything he wore was black, even the diadem hung on his horns.

    “You dare? Need I remind you who is leader of this house?” Valiant barked. “I am! My word is law!”

    Spitebane said, “No. You’re not, and it’s not.”

    “Betrayer! That demon has corrupted you, heart and soul…” Were it not for the guards, he would have grappled the beast by his collar. “What have you done to them? What have you done to my house?”

    “Not your house, any more,” corrected the devil. “You don’t light the throne. I do. You are not the Earl. I am. As for what I did… All I did was subtract YOUR influence from their lives. I moved our mother to the other side of the castle and assigned a guard to keep you away from her. All I did to Spitebane was show him what honour and integrity looked like.”

    “I liked it much better,” said Spitebane.

    “That creature’s misleading you,” he pleaded. “Integrity from a devil is a plot to steal your soul. Come back to me and be good.”

    Spitebane said, “You were giving consideration to strike the oldest laws from Whitekeep. Explain to me how letting people starve is a good thing.”

    Valiant could not.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Good as always. The demon adds a lot to it and the characters are well written.

      1. Glad you enjoyed 😀

    2. This was such a fun read! I like how thoroughly immersed in your ‘sinner’s head. That he viewed himself as a saint even as he let people starve to death. A couple knit-picks. When you say that he wanted to grapple him by the collar threw me off. I view grappling as a full body attack more akin to a tackle. The other thing is that when the blue devil is talking about owning everything that the sinner thought was his might be more powerful by making “I do.” its own sentence like you did with “I am.” Overall great story!

      1. Cheerfully corrected and I hope it works to the power necessary. [Of course the blue demon is our boy Kosh] I thought ‘grab’ for the collar wasn’t fancy enough, so I’ll take that loss in stride 😀

        No villain ever sees themselves as evil and I am INTO that.

    3. Haelamon Avatar
      Haelamon

      You can kind of trick the reader into thinking that the ‘saint’ actually is a saint with the whole devil thing. You can feel the pretentious thought of superiority that they have though. Then how the ‘saint’s’ ‘righteous anger’ compared to the ‘sinner’s’ calm makes one figure it out pretty quickly. Then at the end where its reveled that the saint is the sinner and the sinner is the saint. I mean, how can one reasonably justify letting people starve.

      1. It’s easy to vilify someone when they look like a literal devil.

        Upsetting that kind of trope is my entire jam.

    4. That ending is really, really good. Three short words that carry a lot of impact.

      My only criticism is that it’s hard for me to say this story can fully stand on its own, as some of the backstory/worldbuilding is needed to understand a couple aspects of the plot, but the execution on a whole was really, really good, and the characterization of the main players is on point, as is usual for your stories.

      Really nicely done once more.

      1. Word limits are hell, and Valiant refuses to admit that Kosh/Kormwind is his son, so there’s that too.

        The battle betwixt telling the story and filling in the back is eternal with me. Still working on it.

    5. Spitebane: Look in a mirror sometime
      Me, remembering “The Monster In The Mirror”: So, you’ve chosen Death.

      I was curious where this took place in the timeline. It feels like you’ve done a lot of “Kosh is the Lord” recently. Are we just generally moving forward in time, or, now that you’ve shown him lighting the throne up, you’ve opened up a world of possibilities you want to keep exploring it?

      Regardless, I love how it’s easy it’s been to just destroy Spitebane’s world. Like, I don’t know what has given him this attitude, but seeing Kosh maintain, and even gain, loyalty and respect through kindness and generosity while he maintained it through force and fear (it seems) seems to be slowly breaking him.

      Isn’t there a phrase about closed fists and open hands?

      And honestly, is there any burn greater than, “Why is my wife so giddy?!”

      “I removed you from her life.”

      1. I will cover whichever parts of the story the prompt leads me towards. The Monster in the Mirror happened way back during his Adventuring career, before Spitebane and Cordelia tripped into his awareness.

        [Pst, I think you confused Valiant and Spitebane here. No worries, I know what you mean 😉 ]

        Valiant has kept a white-knuckle grip on control and being controlling for all of his life. Having sired a Demon Lord actually marked his descent into perma-rage though. Blaming the kid for something that couldn’t be helped is just… totally him.

        Working towards Valiant’s descent into madness is kind of delicious, all the same.

        I might remember that burn for when I do the pro book. ::yoinks::

    6. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      Another interesting story from Kosh and his family. I really liked how pissed off the former Earl was over his wife’s happiness and how Kosh had improved all of their lives by removing the former Earl’s influence over them.

      It was also gratifying to see Kosh straight up pointing out / declaring how it wasn’t the former Earl’s house any longer and he no longer had all the power he formerly had. I also really liked the how (Kosh’s brother?) Spitebane could see the decency and honor in Kosh (the saintliness) compared to the cruelty of their father the former Earl.

      An interesting look into the world of Kosh after the change in power in the court!

      1. Yep Spitebane and Kosh are brothers. Kosh is six years Spitebane’s senior.

        Kosh IS getting used to deflecting Valiant’s horseshit, but the longer version has a bit more aftermath [not the one I wrote for here, the one I’m writing for funsies].

        Every time someone says, “X is out of control,” what they REALLY mean is “X is out of MY control.” Prove me wrong.

  12. Ship Wars
    By VTRwriter

    “Team Asger is better!” Aria stood firm on her belief.

    “C’mon, Team Agi is the right choice!” Parisa said. “Agi is kind, hard working, and honest. He’s perfect for Fiore!”

    “Boring! Nice people are annoying and unrelatable. Fiore deserves emotion in her life. A bad boy is perfect because…”

    “Bad people are lazy! It’s easy to be mean, just act on impulse. Fiore deserves better than a reckless maniac.”

    “Like what, an arrogant upstanding citizen like Agi? He’s so full of himself with his ‘moral superiority’ that he might pop and fly away!”

    “Oh, and how is Asger better? People who live on whims like him would leave Fiore for the lamest reason. He only cares for himself!”

    “Team Asger for life!”

    “Team Agi Forever!”

    The air was tense with opposing energies. Sparks could fly at any moment.

    “You two are discussing ‘Sundown’ again?” Elise, with a sleepy face, entered the kitchen. “This is not very healthy.”

    “Hey, nothing wrong with defending your ship to the end” Aria said proudly.

    “Just don’t get too excited about it.” Elise got herself some cereal and milk. “I don’t want to deal with the neighbors and police again.”

    “What about you, Elise?” Parisa asked. “What is your team?”

    “Easy. Team Hanako!”

    “Ugh, fanfic writer!” Aria and Parisa said in unison.

    “C’mon, like you two didn’t notice.”

    “Even if Fiore swung that way, these two barely interact with each other. Hanako is just a chilhood friend. It wouldn’t make any sense.” Parisa argued.

    “You’ll see when the next movie comes out!”

    “Willing to bet on it?” Aria smiled maliciously.

    —–

    “I love winning bets!” Elise smiled with her three ice creams!

    “Worst fandom ever!” Aria and Parisa agreed.

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      I’m absolutely blown away by The whimsy and fun of this. The argument feels incredibly real and so heated. I don’t think I’ve ever been in the middle of a shipping argument that had to get the police involved, but then again, I do try to avoid those types of situations for this exact reason. Lol.

      Do not step in between fans and their ships. You’ve also captured how fans will raise their ships on a platform, treating them as saints and all others are sinners. I love the subtlety in the use of the prompt.

      Critiques:

      The air was tense with opposing energies. Sparks could fly at any moment. (This is really great. It tells you everything you need to know as a reader before going deeper into detail. I wish that it would have been the opening. For me, personally, this would have been a much stronger and more interesting start to the story.)

      “Agi is kind, hard work(ing), and honest. He’s perfect for Fiore!”

      Fiore deserve(s) emotion (i)n her life. A bad boy is perfect because…”

      Fiore deserves better than an (a) reckless maniac.”

      Overall, this is a very wonderful, fun story, VTR. You capture the black and whiteness of certain fandoms quite well. I also love Elise coming in on the tail end and just winning the whole thing. It’s so fun. Really great job. I am excited to see what you post next. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing this.

      1. Thank you for the review. Already made the changes you suggested. I don’t know how, after so many years, I still make english mistakes.

        Again, thank you for the kind words.

  13. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
    ThatWeirdFish

    Second Chances (The Depths Files | Content Warning: Self Harm)
    By: ThatWeirdFish, reviewed by Specter

    Trip followed the trail of glowing feathers with a curious gaze. These fluffs of bloodied white had a different feel to them than other feathers he’d encountered before. Something… not demonic for sure. As he crept through the forest, he noticed a glowing creature in the clearing ahead that seemed to shift between every hue imaginable.

    “Woah… that’s a cool trick there, mate,” He called out to the bundle of wings.

    “Penance…” Though they whispered, the being’s voice rung like thunder. They shuddered as more feathers fell to the ground.

    “Eh?” Trip came closer, cocking his head to the side. “What’s that?”

    “Penance…” They whispered again. Then their hundred eyes turned towards Trip, some scrutinizing, some crying tears of gold. “…What are thee?”

    “I’m whatever I am,” Trip shrugged. “What about you? Never seen the likes of you before in Exile.”

    “I… was… a sanctum,” An elegant hand emerged from between the middle wings, pulling out long feathers with it.

    “Oi, mate,” Trip reached out to stop it but recoiled when he was met with intense heat. “Ow! Anyway, don’t hurt yerself like that. The wildlife ‘round here will do it for ya.”

    “Thou… fear me not?” The sanctum asked softly, looking at Trip again.

    “Well… ya are a bit intimidatin’,” Trip confessed, glancing between different groups of eyes, “but ya ain’t the scariest thing I’ve seen. If anything, ya look like ya need a friend.”

    “Friend…” The sanctum’s wings folded closer, and many eyes shut. “I deserve no such compassion.”

    “Why not? Everyone needs ‘em.”

    “I… have fallen.”

    “Mate… bein’ clumsy is no reason to beat yerself up,” Trip smiled reassuringly.

    “Nay… I am cast out of Heaven. I am beyond redemption.”

    “Oh!” Trip exclaimed. “That’s why your feathers felt odd. Yer an angel!”

    “Was… I see myself not now….”

    “What do ya want to be then?” Trip asked casually.

    “I… do not know….” The sanctum murmured, looking to the sky and pulling their wings around themself as if they were cold.

    “How’s about bein’ my friend?”

    The sanctum looked back with soft eyes and nodded.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Great job, Claire.

      I totally get the feelings of the narrator. Doing something “wrong” and feeling like the world should swallow you whole. But I also like Trip.

  14. ate_house Avatar
    ate_house

    Nightly Habit

    By ate_house

    Ranna sets to cleaning the blood off of her clothes.

    First, the outside: this is red and vibrant, though it’s turning brown now. A reminder that she has stripped the world of something properly living.

    Next, the inside, though ‘blood’ is a stretch. It’s thick black ichor, oil and coal and rot. As she scrubs, her joints make sounds like ratchets and meat, enchanted metal moving beneath old skin. It should hurt, but weapons don’t feel pain.

    Once the blood is gone (the stains remain; her cloak has been dark a long time now), it’s time to fix.

    In and out the needle goes, pulling cuts closed and patching holes with leather. Sometimes the damage is deeper, and she needs pliers, but mostly it’s only flesh. Weapons are durable.

    Look at yourself, some part of her says, and truly it isn’t self-hatred or self-pity. Those parts were scooped out long ago. Weapons don’t feel.

    Look at yourself, it says again, and she does. She sees blackened skin stretched taut over copper and iron, covered in symbols she doesn’t understand. Some are likely necromantic, because why else would a construct be built into a corpse?

    She sees an undead. She sees a brutal warrior, one who slaughters all manner of things and lives. She sees a weapon, but weapons don’t read books.

    She sits down to rest (not to sleep: weapons don’t) and opens her holy text and, once prompted, the words flow from her tongue as though she’s said them all her life. She probably did. She was probably some kind of priest or paladin, a saint, a warrior who purged things which could not be reasoned with, things which must be destroyed. Monsters.

    Weapons.

    For a moment (the thousandth moment of its kind), she contemplates destroying herself, and discards the idea. Whoever made her (used her, twisted her, kill them kill them) is out there somewhere, and they made the mistake of leaving her anger.

    She slows down, prayer book in lap, and remembers the feeling of connection to her god. That part’s gone now, too.

    1. Lantis Armstrong Avatar
      Lantis Armstrong

      I wonder if she’s killing the targets she’s meant to kill, or if she’s slaying her way across the countryside in her pursuit of slaying the necromancer that made her (I’m assuming the “kill them!” refers to her maker..? Maybe not, but I got that impression). OH! I just put together that the person that made her a zombie and the god she once prayed to are both “her makers,” and she’s turned away from both of them in this story! That’s a cool parallel, actually.

  15. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    The War in Me (From Sapphire in the Rough)

    By Tamela Redfin

    Did I say that right? Thanking that evil man, Phosphorus Cameron? As Mica pointed out, I could have blown up the fence at any time. Also, thanks to him, we were in this mess.

    “Sapphira, are you okay?” Cece asked.

    “I don’t trust them.” I huffed. “Mica or Cameron!”

    “Hey, what did I do?!” Mica screamed.

    “Hush, Cam is trying to sleep and they might be looking for us.” Cece replied.

    But Mica looked concerned. “Sapphira? I think he’s sorry. I know I am.”

    “You? But you’re a meanie, and don’t you mean Slagphira?”

    He shook his head. “I didn’t have a good life. Try being the child of a chain smoker and a suspected human.”

    “At least your mum loved you. It was always about Jasper.”

    He held my hand. “I know, and I didn’t help.”

    I bit my tongue, yanking my hand away, and feeling the thoughts flying through my head.
    ***

    “Yeah, and if you knew better, stop.”

    “You saved me when I needed it.”

    “Learn your place, Mica!”

    “If I legally could, I’d kill you here!”

    “This isn’t your home.”

    “If I had half a mind to, I’d gouge your eyeth out, Mica!”

    “I’m glad you got us out of Snos.”
    ***

    “Sapphira?” I jumped seeing Cecilia sitting down by me.

    “I’m scared.” I sobbed.

    “Shh, we’re here for you, Sapphira.” Cece assured me. “All of us. Wanna help me dig?”

    “Y-yeah.” I sniffled.

    As we dug another room, I looked at my cousin. “Why do people change, Cece?”

    She shrugged, “A lot of reasons. Emotions, introspect, better or worse understandings. Why do you ask?”

    “Just curious.” I nodded, wiping some dirt from my hair.

    1. This is the same universe as Feldspar Augen and co. I recognise some of the characters. Alas, for the life of me, I can’t fit it into the continuity. Very possibly my bad. I’ve been doing some heavy lifting in the emotional department of late and… yeah. TMI stuff.

      Sapphira is obviously doing some of the same here. She sees Cameron as a villain, but that’s changing with the circumstances around her.

      It’s the conversation in the middle that completely befuddles me. No indication of context, who’s having the argument [though Mica’s involved, I think I can guess it’s a sibling fight?] when or why it happened… where Snos is…

      I’m having a lot of Dumb today… T_T

      1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
        Tamela Redfin

        I accept your Dumb.

        Who don’t you remember? Also, I’ve never mentioned Jasper because Cameron doesn’t know Jasper. He is Sapphira’s deceased(?) younger brother. (Their mother, also never mentioned, Reagan tends to act like Jasper would have been the best child ever, and puts Sapphira down.)

        Okay, sorry it’s unclear but if read it would made more sense at the middle.

        The thoughts (Between the asterisks) are all her. These are all lines she has said at some point, usually to Mica, but the last is to Cameron. (Taken directly from last prompt, so it’s okay if you don’t remember).

        Snos is a barren desert they just escaped. Cyphas don’t like desert because they can’t dig easily in sand. It’s a torture method, done by Feldspar Augen and co.

        Hope this helps. 🙂

        1. I couldn’t remember who Mica was [watching too much She-Ra also “helped”] and the flip between Cece and Cecilia might have overpowered the sludge I have in my head rn…

    2. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
      ThatWeirdFish

      I love this piece because it paints introspectiveness in an interesting way. Of course, everyone does it differently, but it is still cool how you wrote it here. I also appreciate how you put the asterisk breaks between when our narrator was in her head and not.

      My only criticism is that it feels like I’m in the middle of an argument for which I have no context. I don’t quite understand her accusations outside of her being bitter. Perhaps that is all or I read it too hastily.

      Either way, well done and I look forward to more of your works.

  16. Connor A. Avatar
    Connor A.

    An Heir’s First Prayer (Sword Isles)
    By Connor A.

    This isn’t Haven.

    Jen double checked the prayer instructions one of the temple keepers gave them.

    This isn’t Haven.

    With shaking hands, they poured the incense into the bowl and drew a small fire sigil in it with one finger. It hovered over the sigil for a moment, but it was long enough for Jen to look over their shoulder, unconsciously checking to see if Pastor Hardrock would walk in. But the memories of what happened weeks prior brought them back to what they were doing.

    This isn’t Haven. And they would be damned sure no one else would make another city like it.

    They activated the sigil and pulled their hand back before the flames could burn them. The smoke rose up, and they followed it up to the statue’s eyes.

    “Uh, hello sir,” Jen began, then shook their head and looked back at the paper. “Sorry, um… Overseer of the Dead, Ambrosius. I… I ask that you may grant me your… au…audience?”

    The smoke curled around the statue as an eerie feeling fell over the room.

    “My name is Jen. I might be the heir to a monarchy? That’s not why I’m here though, so I’m not sure why I brought it up.” Jen laughed nervously, then sighed. “Sorry, I’m not used to praying like this. It’s a lot different from what I’m used to.”

    “I have heard that from many Dust Cult survivors.”

    Jen scrambled towards the statue and turned around to see who spoke. Aside from what looked like the most expensive set of robes they had ever seen, the man looked like the other people they came across in this part of the Blade. But in their gut, they knew the eerie feeling in the room was coming from him.

    “Are you…?” Jen trailed off, cursing their shaky tone.

    “Few people contact me in this manner unless it is dire.”

    Jen took a deep breath. They fumbled through their bag and pulled out a beat up journal. “What can you tell me about Achmed Chaibi?”

    1. Prime awkwardness during a séance/prayer, I love it. Usually, when people summon deities, especially ones like Death, there is a lot more reverence in their voice. But Jen seems to air more on the awkward side, which is nice to see. They feel a lot like me, when I have appointments to talk with professors.

      I don’t remember reading the name Achmed Chaibi in this universe before. Are they a new character? If so, Jen seems pretty intent on finding them, for better or for worse, if they are willing to ask Death himself.

      Well written!

  17. Perfection
    by Taja DaLeen

    Lucifer took another selfie. It had to be perfect, just like everything he did. But this wasn’t it, not yet. He took another one.

    This one was better, although the lighting was a bit off. He needed to fix that. After all, he prided himself on magnificent aesthetics. It had to be perfect, so he took another one.

    Everything he did had to be the best of the best, from his work as a leader to his art. He wanted everyone to be happy, after all. So, everything had to be perfect, but this wasn’t it. He took another one.

    He was proud to be called a perfectionist. He knew it to be a term of endearment, after all, every single citizen of his domain was happy. Which was exactly what he wanted them to be. But this selfie, it was not. It was even worse than the one before. He took another one.

    There were a lot of things he could be proud of. The happiness of his people, his abilities, his relationship with his siblings, his art. But to be able to maintain this pride, everything had to be perfect. This selfie was close, but the angle was just a tad off. He quickly took another one.

    And this was it. Finally, everything was perfect. The lighting, the angle, everyone in the picture was smiling, enjoying themselves. They were happy. And they would be even more so when they saw this piece of art.

    And he would be the reason of it. He was the center, just like he was in this selfie. He could once more be proud of himself, as he should be. He was the demon lord of pride after all.

    1. Lol okay, so my wife is so damn picky about the pics she takes, selfies included, so this story just had my eye twitching. Especially since it seemed like others needed to be smiling in the background to make the story perfect. It makes me wonder how reliable this particular narrator is and if everyone is actually as happy as he believes they are.

      That said, this was definitely another fun take on Lucifer and I’m here for it lol. Great story!

      1. Thank you for your review! And sorry about that particular side of your wife. Lucifer annoys me a lot too, but I still love my babies…
        And well, he’s the demon lord of pride. How reliable a narrator can he be. ^^’
        Happy you picked up on that!

        Thanks again!

    2. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      I love a good character study piece, especially when it comes to a concept as familiar as the personification of one of the seven deadly sins. I can’t name too many examples of perfectionism as a characteristic of an avatar of pride, but it is one that is really fascinating to see since it adds more to him than a simple, “I’m the best and no one can surpass me,” mentality.

      1. Thank you for the review! And yes, I think only the ‘deadly sin’ aspect would be a little too one dimensional, so I tried to think of a way that it could ‘grow’ in a way. I’m happy you like it!

        Thank you!

  18. Occultic;Z Avatar
    Occultic;Z

    Burial
    By Occultic;Z

    Attending his funeral probably wasn’t the smartest decision. The lying bastard he was. Sorry, the ‘truths omitting bastard,’ as he would put it. Either way, I went. I had to do it, for myself, for me.

    I stand at the back of the church, and as I look around, I notice the sombre tone. I almost feel as though I’m the outlier in this all. Who am I kidding? Of course, I’m the outlier.

    I hear the cries of the woman at the front. Her sniffling and wails echo through the building.

    This is my first time meeting his wife. I hear that she truly loved him. A shame, really, she seems too good for him. She doesn’t know who I am, but that’s probably for the best.

    The sermon begins, and we get to hear how much of a good man he was. I find it hard at some points not to laugh. It was when they called him “a real family man” that got me.

    Towards the end, I find that I’ve had enough of it. All of the bullshit. I take a step outside to give myself some headroom.

    How is any of this fair?

    He gets all these kind words. These tears. And what do I get? Shunned.

    I’m soon joined by an oldish lady. Not too sure who she is but, in all honesty, I don’t exactly care. I just light a cigarette and hope she doesn’t engage in conversation.

    Honesty huh… What a fragile thing.

    “It’s always such a shame, isn’t it?” she begins, looking at me as she wipes her eyes. “The good ones always go so young.”

    I don’t respond verbally. I just give a side look. I try to grit my teeth but find I have bitten down on the butt of the cigarette.

    “How did you know him?” She asks. The one question I’ve been half expecting to hear. I take a deep breath and brace myself for the words that are about to leave my lips. I look her straight in the eyes.

    “I’m his bastardised daughter.”

    1. Interesting take on the prompt. It’s often the case that some people might see you as the most gracious saint, while other see you as the most horrible sinner. I like to think that everyone lies somewhere in the middle, though the deceased’s daughter seems to have a different opinion.

      I can’t help but sympathize with both her and the old woman. Nuance is a difficult topic to deal with and often people tend to call someone saint or sinner, without realizing they’re both. Though I am curious as to what the backstory between the narrator and her father is, I can pretty much put together that it has something to do with him never telling her, her true parentage.

      Well done!

    2. Haelamon Avatar
      Haelamon

      I enjoyed this little piece too! A man hailed as a ‘saint’ by the majority and a daughter hailed as anything but. Even reinforcing the point that she isn’t perfect and potentially been in rough spots/shunned by the smoking (sorry if that is a poor or insensitive opinion, it’s a cliché I think I see.) Then the fact that the father isn’t actually a saint and could (and likely should) be considered a sinner in both the moral implications of his actions along with literally being a sinner due to having a child born out of wedlock type situations. The sinner and the saint are one in the same. Thank you for this piece.

      P.S. the final line made me go, “oh, that makes sense now.”

      1. Occultic;Z Avatar
        Occultic;Z

        Thank you for the kind words!

        As a little insight to the behind the scenes of this piece, originally she was going to be the mistress until I spoke it over with a friend 😅

  19. Maxer4000 Avatar
    Maxer4000

    Not so royal
    By Maxer

    Down in the canteen of the underground base, a group of janitors are cleaning up the place before serving hours, then comes an imposing man, his gem green eye gleans over the scene, then he grabs hold of one of the cleaners

    “Oi, get me a mop.”

    “Sir? please, this isn’t your kind of work, we can handle this.”

    “Shut it, ya always can use a hand, hand me a bleeding mop.”

    The head janitor strolls over with a mop and bucket

    “Here you go sir, can you help with a section over there?”

    As he leaves, the junior staff ponders to the head

    “So… why is boss doing menial work?”

    The head janitor lets out a tired sighs

    “Medical overruled him to take a break, again, and he can’t just take it by lying down and rest. That’s why he find any excuse to keep working.”

    “So, he just want to be busy?”

    “He takes pride of keeping the base running, even by just doing menial works.”

    “I swear this is the same story with Lunafang hanging around the kitchen”

    “Oh, him, well boss isn’t wrong, the union could always use an extra hand, besides, the staff love Lunafang’s cooking”

    “Is the union viewing them as saints? coming in and just take take the heavy load off us?”

    The old man chuckles, sitting down on one of the tables

    “Saints? where did you get such comparison, boy?”

    “I-I don’t know, you all seem so welcoming to have the leading figure of the organization to mop the floor for you, for us, just… why?”

    “I asked him the same, and he said this: sitting on the top hill ain’t let ye see shit below the cloud, mate.”

    The aging man laugh, coughing up the words

    “How can he keep up that accent!?”

    The boss walks over and put down his mop, looking over to the young janitor

    “Ya new here?”

    “Yes, sir”

    “If what I do works out for ya, just let it happen, also I done me part, y’all can take it from here”

    As he leave the canteen, the head janitor leans back to the table’s corner, talking in a relaxed tone

    “How much red did you cleanse this time, sir?”

    “Shut it.”

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      I really enjoy the group dynamic in the story, Maxer. The fact that the boss has to come down and help the janitorial staff clean up something is very telling of the type of corporate world that they’re a part of. Not that he seems to mind. The boss seems very incapable of taking an off day, even when it’s needed. I also find the humor very entertaining. Also, I am usually a sucker for the young intern that doesn’t really know anything being taught by the older, more seasoned veteran.

      Unfortunately, the amount of mistakes in the story detracted for me. It wasn’t that difficult to get the main gist of what was happening after a few extra read throughs, but your story does need some work in the grammatical and technical areas. Might I suggest a proofreader and other reading / writing sources? Also, practicing writing really does help to strengthen the weak areas.

      You do paint a very good picture, and I like that the younger janitor is very much awed by the big man on high coming down to grace the lowly staff with his presence. But then the older janitor sets him straight. I do love the use of the prompt in that manner.

      Overall, I really enjoyed the story. You have a good grasp on fun and whimsy, and you’re able to provide levity to a situation that could have easily been depressing. Very well done. I do hope you keep writing and submitting and honing your strengths. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing this one.

  20. The Ink Chimera Avatar
    The Ink Chimera

    Too Many cooks
    By The Ink Chimera

    “Oh no. Not again. Please.”

    I woke up, my head splitting like someone Splintered it with an axe, and a pit in my stomach from the weight next to me.

    I looked over to see another unfamiliar woman, lying in my bed. Surprisingly, with her clothes on. I couldn’t remember the night before, but I didn’t worry about it. Those memories simply belonged to someone else.

    I sighed and went to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. Or, rather “ourself” would be more accurate.

    “That party was awesome,” came a voice from my head. “Those people really know how to throw a banger.”

    “I have to disagree,” I replied, rubbing our eyes. “We can’t keep doing this every time we hear about a party.”

    “I’ll second that notion.” A second familiar voice. “We have things to get done. We can’t get everything done if we’re partying, and getting drunk. Sleeping is bad enough.”

    “But if we don’t sleep, we won’t have any energy if we need it.” And Three appears. “I mean, what if someone were to attack us when we weren’t ready? And being drunk isn’t any better.”

    “I’m with you on that one. Being drunk is so annoying.” And Four to round it out. “And sleep is important for energy, or whatever. And all that stuff we have to do can wait a few days. We should really just sleep and chill out. Just relax.”

    “that’s not what I meant. We can’t only sleep all day. Other stuff is important too.”

    “Yeah. Like living life like there’s no tomorrow. We gotta get out there and live life. And we can be totally chill about it too.”

    “You know that’s not what I meant!” Three and Four shouted in unison.

    “We know that’s not what you meant,” Two spat at Four. “You just want to laze about and let everything around us fall apart. You don’t know anything about responsibility. Any of you.”

    “Well, none of you know anything about relaxing.”

    “Well, none of you…!”

    They continued bickering as I washed down two aspirin. I’d sort them out later.

    1. Lol this is such a fun story. I think we’ve all felt like this one way or another. Needing to do things and just being too lazy to be bothered or the opposite. It’s just that the poor protagonist here has to deal with all those normal voices in a much more literal way. The title is definitely a great way of describing it all.

      Very cool take on the prompt!

    2. Twangyflame0 Avatar
      Twangyflame0

      Ooooo, this was very funny to me! Might just be the way I read it. The mention of the perspective character being attacked makes me think that this is some sort of fantasy universe of some kind. I couldn’t help but see all the voices sitting around at a table inside the perspective character and arguing with each other. I can also see this being analogous to something like multiple-personality disorder or possibly schizophrenia, in a totally healthy way too! I think you did a great job. Very well done.

  21. Naerahine’s Story (Exile Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    She stood in the sand of the vast colosseum, dressed in clothes the colour of clay, protected only by a sheet of thick cloth and wearing neither shoes nor gloves, as was tradition. She held her long, barbed spear aloft, listening to the cheers of the crowd.

    She’d won them over. She’d participated in this contest she’d grown to hate often enough to earn favours. An underdog from the border, risen to one of the greatest stars the colosseum had seen in decades.

    They’d celebrated her. Clapped and cheered, as her spear tip was thrust into flesh after flesh. She’d stopped seeing them as people. She had to, if she wanted to keep her sanity. And through it all, her mask had earned her the praise of vast swaths of demons and cambions, fallen gods and deadly sins. She was Naerahine, the glorious lady of war, from iron chains to golden ones.

    As she faced down her final opponent, a large warrior, wielding a long pole axe, it had been one of her hardest duels yet. She’d already found it hard, keeping up with this much younger warrior, old scars and wounds showing themselves. She felt centuries older than she actually was.

    Still she persevered and sent her spear through her opponent’s gut. He’d survived, by mercy of the Silver Count, who had come specially, to watch her fight. She’d bowed humbly, as was expected, accepting the honour of being allowed to entertain one of the highest monarchs the Exile had to offer.

    That night, she died in her cell.

    She was hailed as a martyr, a paragon of martial skill.

    Her death had allowed her to slip away. All it took was the bribery of the colosseum’s undertaker and she was free. Free of this kind of war.

    “That’s… an interesting story,” Janeah interrupted, when Naerahine paused for breath. “But you haven’t told us why you became a gladiator in the first place.”

    “I sinned,” she said, knowingly. “The greatest sin any sapient life form can commit.”

    “Which is?”

    “I told people to be nice to each other.”

    1. I’m usually not one for this type of story, I’m not a fan of those gladiator-ish characters, but this one really fascinated me. Especially this concept of a world in which everything we deem sinful is not, and the moral thing becomes the sin. It also kind of shows that this question of what is good/evil is pretty much a matter of perspective and culture. And I was happy for her that she got away from that situation. Thank you for the story, I really enjoyed it!

    2. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
      ThatWeirdFish

      I love the jarring contrast between mythic storytelling and casual conversation. It highlights the difference between past and present.

      I also like the way you’ve woven worldbuilding into the narrative here. We learn the Exile has some form of civilization and has a cast system. Where this once gladiator falls, who can say, but it is still cool to think about.

      My only complaint is the dreaded word count striking again. Well done! I would love to read more from this universe.

    3. Connor A. Avatar
      Connor A.

      Ah, the classic “I got screwed over because I asked people to have some basic decency,” character. Jokes aside, it is really cool to see the reality of being a gladiator, especially the detail regarding how she copes with all the murder she has to do. Great job as always.

    4. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      Ah. Sanctioned savagery. I’m always intrigued by people faking their death to escape a difficult life/start anew. I really love how you showed the disturbing side of gladiator fighting outside of the pure barbaric, gruesome nature of it.

      Even though Naerahine was the best, she’s wasn’t infallible, but neither was she jaded. That means she more than likely has an enormous amount of guilt for all of the lives she took in the ring, no matter that it was for survival. Even the strongest of warriors are affected by so much violence and blood shed. I do not blame her one iota for wanting out of that life.

      The duality of this being world building AND a conversation without it feeling forced is just MWAH! Chef’s kiss.

      I also really love that she found her way to Janeah in Exile. I’m sure they’ll have much to talk about.

      I don’t have any critiques,other than the pesky word count getting in the way. Excellent story, Spectre. You always write so introspective and fascinating ones. I can’t wait to see what you post next. Thank you so much for writing and sharing this one.

  22. Water Lilies

    By Hastaw

    Everyone sinks into the water; before a cold, untouchable wasteland takes over.

    “Everyone, get into your positions!”

    A bulb grows in my throat.

    “The hibernation season comes upon us!”

    A heavy rock pulls on my chest.

    “We are going to harvest the energy-”

    -As we sink into hibernation. I finish the sentence in my head.

    The first changing leaf. I dip my toe in the water, causing an electric shiver. The water flowers will provide me with the energy to withstand the cold.

    Sinking my head into the pond, I begin to have reservations.

    I get to the bottom of the pond, immediately plunging upward.

    I grasp the rubbery, somewhat feathered anchor for balance; I instinctively know what to do.

    I pick a groove in the stem. I give a precious piece of my life to it. Light shoots up into the flowers up above, shooting back into me.

    The gentle flow of energy courses through me, the sudden warmth breathtaking. I drift off into a gentle sleep, waiting for the youth of spring to wake me.

    I bolt awake, feeling a grip of death overtaking me; something feels like pure terror.

    A paper wasteland appeared right before my very eyes. The gentle petals gave way to rot, the stamens lolling to the side.

    Everything looked like hopelessness, Giving up.

    Solitude clouded my vision.

    A reflecting light shines into my eyes; I sense life.

    The round, slimy ball had another life inside it.

    I can continue the life of the flower I had lost. The protection against the cold I had sought after gave me another chance.

    Death gives life to those who lost it. Thus the lives of the water nymphs goes on, even in despair.

    1. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      This story is simple, rather sad, and a little eerie. It reminds me of a scene from Avatar: The Last Airbender where Hama was teaching Katara some of her skills. In an earlier lesson Hama showed Katara how to draw water out of plants, leading to a scene where she summoned a large blob of water, but in the process killed all the grass and flowers around her. Well done!

      1. Thanks! It was actually inspired by “Black Waterlilies” by Aurora.

  23. Haelamon Avatar
    Haelamon

    The Watcher:
    By Hael Amon

    Black and white. Yin and yang. Red and blue. Even concepts like chaos and order. All representing the concept of good and evil. But what is that, why is it, and why am I the ‘evil.’

    I’m the one trapped in an inescapable prison, a ‘mere orb.’ At least it looks fancy with its gilded lines and tawny hues as the base. Such a consolation for eternal punishment isn’t it. How do you think being in an orb is? What if you don’t even have a physical body anymore to boot?

    It isn’t even my fault that a kingdom was slaughtered, mind you I didn’t stop it or even try. I sat and watched as The Regretful slaughtered their king and delivered the people to the nether realm. If that actually exists.

    In addition The Wrathful was actually, and passionately, trying to wipe out humanity. He was onboard with the mayhem and murder, and all I did was sit and watch it. I didn’t even agree with the slaughter and death, it’s a horrid affair. Just dreadful.

    It’s unfair, so unfair. Why’d The Unnamed help the humans and turn against me? She literally made this prison, she’s the sinner. She’s the one who made an inescapable prison in which I’ll have to not rot, but sit, alone. All I have are my thoughts. My only power is to talk with whomever decides to pick up this orb.

    Unnamed is the saint and I the sinner. Even Wrathful and Regretful aren’t called sinners, but I am. Why me? What did I do to earn this title? All I did was watch, all I did was sit. ALL I DID WAS WAIT FOR IT ALL TO PASS.

    Regretful was a disaster, Wrathful a monster, Unnamed a saint, and I the sinner.

    What’s my name, you ask? What even am I, you ask? Little human who listens to my rambling I say to you, what does it matter.

    Fine…

    My name is Apathy. And if you don’t know what I am, read a history book. You need it.

    1. I appreciate the personification of all these different character archetypes. You clearly defined the exchange between Apathy and the reader. I feel like I am part of the story when I read the conclusion.

      The conclusion also caught me off guard, like when some stranger calls your name and you ask,”are you talking to me?”

      Apathy and unnamed seem to have beef between them. Also, the “Unnamed” sinner? Love that! It basically means Apathy takes the place of someone, and the name
      ”Unnamed” made the unidentifiable person personified! Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant!

      Really wish I could use emojis in this comment. However, that would be unprofessional. So I’m just gonna say, “thumbs up”, you earned it.

      Thank you for writing this piece.

      1. Haelamon Avatar
        Haelamon

        I know I reply slowly compared to other people, but thanks! I will make a small admission real fast, “The Unnamed” was me adding a character then not knowing what the heck to call them. Then I realized I didn’t really have to… Thank you for seeing meaning in it though: that’s the new head cannon for what’s happening.

        Have a good day!

    2. The Ink Chimera Avatar
      The Ink Chimera

      I love this one. Each one is directly relatable to myself in some way. I recognize all of them and they’re portrayed so well in this.

      I love the compare and contrast of the characters too. Pairing them together (whether intentional or not was a really good, effective choice, since they’re all similar, yet different. Keep up the good work.

      1. Haelamon Avatar
        Haelamon

        Paining them up was intentional as they are similar, and I thank you for enjoying it! The fact that people are actually commenting on something I wrote makes me extremely happy. I am also happy that I made something that is in someway relatable to somebody! So I hope you have a good day!

    3. Occultic;Z Avatar
      Occultic;Z

      This is definitely a good personification of these traits. At first, I was a little lost but reading that final line was like having all the pieces fall into place and blew my mind into different thoughts and opinions.

      It’s an accurate reaction to the cause and effect dilemma for apathy but leads to… maybe not sympathy, but an understanding of how narrators actions and how their own thoughts, even existence, has led to them to view their imprisonment as unjust. It is for them being who they exist to be.

      The line of, “My only power is to talk to whomever decides to pick up this orb” is one that instantly changes everything and puts the image of us being the one who has given Apathy its chance. someone who has picked up this orb and has given time to tell it’s story.

      A very thought-provoking read!

      1. Haelamon Avatar
        Haelamon

        Thank you so much! I want to say that I wrote the entire piece thinking that it was missing something critically important, and went, “Wait, who’s perspective is this?” and just revealed the name as ‘Apathy’ as one of the last 3 or 4 things I did. Heck it was meant to be an internal monologue of whatever entity was thinking at first and changed into some unknown being ranting at a random person.

        Either way, hope you have a good day!

    4. I really like this concept. And there’s so many ways it could be taken. That these are just people who have the titles put upon them, or they’re actual representations of the title. Either way it’s a very intriguing idea. You do a great idea if getting into Apathy’s frustration.

      But my favorite part is that you can both sides of the argument make “sense” and I love it when that happens. You can’t really blame the Unnamed from closing Apathy away from everyone and leaving him with only his thoughts as the ability to warn others of where apathy could lead them, but you can also understand Apathy feeling that they didn’t do anything, so how could they have done anything wrong?

      It’s a very thought provoking story and an excellent take on the prompt. Well done!

      1. Haelamon Avatar
        Haelamon

        I did leave it open on purpose! In my head they were draconic beings, or maybe even devils/demons of some kind. Also that was what I was going for from Apathy’s view. “I did literally nothing? Why lock me up?” was what I was going for, and now I kind of want to write this same event from the perspective of the other titled beings mentioned… So thank you for triggering something?

        Have a good day!

    5. The sins of omission are sins all the same, I see. For evil to prosper, all that is necessary is for people to do NOTHING.

      I love it. You’ve made a mythology out of descriptions. Are they anthropomorphic personifications or entities named after/for their attributes?

      Apathy [or sloth?] might be fine with being in an orb to contemplate their choices. For a being that’s purely apathetic, they seem to care a lot about being shut away forever.

      Which leads me to wonder what a world would be like with apathy shut up in a container like the woes of humankind in Pandora’s Box. I think it might be better for everyone if nobody’s allowed to “not care”. Hm. I hope there’s some worldbuilding happening around this concept.

      1. Haelamon Avatar
        Haelamon

        This was actually made based off of something I was worldbuilding, just modified and made a tad vague. Mind you, said worldbuilding isn’t nearly done at all. Also on why Apathy cares so much about being trapped: don’t you want to have the choice to do something, even if you know you won’t do it?

        Have a good day!

  24. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    Heated Game
    by Lee Strangely

    I could see the building burning through the window. I always make sure to find just the right place for a perfect view of the action. Perhaps I was a little too close this time; I could feel the heat from here.

    The sirens began to blare out. The firefighters came right on time. Their numbers seem to have doubled this time. However, they are no match for an overcrowded building!

    As they exited their vehicles I could pick him out of the crowd immediately. I never knew his name. I always imagined his name as Saint and I bet that’s how he probably views himself. You can tell it’s him by the way he positions himself: somewhere in the front, leading the charge.

    The pen in my hand shook while it hovered over the notebook as I waited for people to start coming out of the building. The anticipation was killing me.

    Eventually, one firefighter came out of the building and with her came two people. They were in rough shape but destined to recover.

    Two points to the home team. I drew the notches in the notebook under the appropriate section.

    Another person was carried out. They didn’t appear to be moving… A large black bag was brought out.

    Point to the visitor!

    I think about maybe an hour had past when
    everything started winding down. I don’t know, I honestly lost track of time trying to keep score. It was close, but I was losing. The Saint was the last to leave the building with no less than two people in his arms… Showoff.

    One victim appears to be breathing, but the other…

    The Saint took off his mask, revealing a look of concern. A paramedic checked for a pulse.

    And what’s the verdict? My hands began to sweat.

    The paramedic shook his head.

    Point to the visitor! But it wasn’t enough, I still lost the game. I always enjoy watching the Saint deal with my handiwork and the challenges he brings me; even so, he can be so infuriating.

    1. Haelamon Avatar
      Haelamon

      It takes the concept of the sinner and the saint, and drags it into real life. This is something that could happen it’s realistic. And the dynamic between the saint and the sinner are both in the sinner’s mind, and from his/her perspective. You can almost think that the sinner is a reporter at the beginning until they start making tally’s and while it doesn’t explicitly state that the sinner started the fire. Seems likely. I want to see a book or something with a dynamic like this as the focus. Once more, have a good day!

    2. “Point to the home team”, brilliant. I love how you designed this competition between whoever started the fire, and the saint. You wonderfully encapsulated the air of rivalry between the two, although one of them doesn’t seem to be aware of the competition. Nice work, putting the “visitor” on the sideline. Thank you for this work.

    3. Occultic;Z Avatar
      Occultic;Z

      The way you have set this piece out is amazing. The way you’ve put us into the perspective of this narrative character and how they view all of it as a game is very well laid out. It gets us deep into their twisted views and how they do what they can to challenge their rival- someone they don’t even know by name. Whoever Saint is, you can tell that they have saved many people from this kind of situation.

      It makes me wonder if this is a ‘villain always loses’ situation and whether the narrative character would stop once they had scored more points, or maybe even once they’ve put an end to their nemesis. overall, a well-done piece!

    4. ate_house Avatar
      ate_house

      Not an easy thing to get the reader into the head of someone like a psychopathic arsonist, but you did it beautifully here. And disgustingly. Not a place I’d want to hang out for long.
      I really like that the Saint here is morally ambiguous, possibly a firefighter more for the hedonistic glory it brings, the same way the Sinner is an arsonist for fun. Then again, it’s quite possible he really is selfless, and the Sinner just can’t comprehend that. You’ve got me asking questions about them, which is great.
      One slight typo: “hour had past” should be “hour had passed.”

    5. I always like stories where you’re in the head of the villain and you did an absolutely amazing job with the mind of this one. I do love how the Sinner clearly sees this whole thing as a game and you lead into that wonderfully. Just the little things like acknowledging that there were more firemen this time, giving the reader a hint that this has happened before.

      It’s a bit chilling how oblivious “Saint” is to his part in things. He’s just doing his job, unaware that someone is not only actively working against him but is using him as an opposing team in a sport, or I suppose the home team as it were.

      A great glimpse into a psychotic mind. Very well done!

  25. The Devil’s in the Details
    By Marx

    “You… want to… free Lucifer…?”

    Matt looked back at Laila with a sigh. “Okay, I know how that sounds, just hear me out.”

    “You want to free Lucifer.”

    “Look, I get it. It’s-”

    Laila held out her hand to stop Matt from talking, her massive feathered wings glowing even brighter in her frustration. “Matt I just… I need you to hear this outloud. You… want to free Lucifer!”

    “It’s because she’s hot, isn’t it?” Mara teased, her spade-tipped tail lewdly running along Matt’s cheek.

    Matt batted the demon’s tail away. “It’s not because she’s hot!”

    “Mhm…” Mara grinned wider. “I say this because ALL angels have really attractive human forms. I mean… look at Laila.”

    Laila began to talk again but paused because of Mara’s uncharacteristic compliment. And then she began to wonder if it even WAS a compliment. This gave Matt time to defend himself. “It’s not because she’s hot. It’s because she’s stuck alone in a cage. In Hell.”

    “Because she’s LUCIFER!”

    “That would have meant a lot more to me if Heaven hadn’t tried to smite me for existing. If I hadn’t met our great ‘creator’, and He hadn’t told me that the four of us are supposed to destroy existence because He’d grown bored with it. There are two sides to this story and I’m willing to listen to hers. I can’t… see the black and white anymore. It’s all grays. I just see a sad fallen angel stuck in a cage in a place meant to torture you.”

    “And… how do you know she’s sad?” Laila asked suspiciously.

    “Well… she was singing. That’s how I found her.”

    Laila facepalmed. “My God, he’s been enchanted…”

    “I’m not enchanted!”

    “You don’t even know what that means!”

    “I can figure it out by context!”

    “What Laila is trying to say here Matt, is… we’re with you.” Mara smiled warmly. “Of course, we’re with you. We just want to make it clear how stupid this is. But we’ll back you anyway.”

    Matt gave Mara a similar look to Laila’s of not being sure if he’d just been insulted. “…thanks…?”

    1. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      I enjoyed this fun “I can’t believe you’re doing this, you’re insane!” type moment. A lot of times these are just tacked on afterward to add conflict or for logical reasons, but sometimes they are done well and to good comedic effect like it is here. I enjoyed the back and forth between the three of them and moments like when Mara tease Matt over a potential reason for his idea being that Lucifer’s hot. It was funny, yet still was able to communicate the seriousness of what Matt was intending to do. Great job!

      1. Thank you so much! I’m really glad it came across so well. That was exactly the idea I was going for. It being funny but also acknowledging the seriousness of the situation. Its always fun going back and forth between these three.

    2. Haelamon Avatar
      Haelamon

      I like this because it encourages the thought of looking at both sides. Maybe Lucifer had a reason, maybe not. And the take that God is actually bad isn’t terribly original, however I still enjoy it nonetheless as it just seems fun to poke at religion. Then the amusing banter makes it fun and gives the characters an understandable personality while giving background on situation. Good job and hope you have a good day!

      1. You know the funny thing about this is that the “God” of this world isn’t technically evil. It’s just the equivalent of and old guy whose had the same thankless job his entire life that he can never escape from and he’s just done and over it all.

        The problem being in this case, being “done” means the entire workplace just straight up won’t exist anymore. So naturally everyone at the job is like, “Dude, what the Hell?”

    3. Ya know, I almost forgot about the smiting thing. And honestly, it makes me wonder who or what was behind that. Because it CLEARLY wasn’t “Bob.” I doubt he cares enough about what Matt does, and, even if he did, smiting him seems to go against his plan for Matt to destroy creation. Right? Or was he “just checking” if this upstart…nephilim is really THE Horseman of Death.

      I’m honestly kinda surprised Mara wasn’t more on board for this. Seems like she’d be all down for freeing Lucifer. Laila’s reluctance is more understandable. Makes me kind of curious where this takes place in the timeline…and just in general what Laila’s feeling’s are about Matt being The Horseman of Death and destined to destroy all.

      1. Funny lore fact. Bob isn’t actually in control of Heaven. At least not any more than he’s in control of everything. But there’s definitely no way to get that idea into the word count and it works as a story whether you believe he’s in control of Heaven or not.

        Lol I’m also not 100% sure who IS in charge of Heaven. Metatron is the obvious choice, but I’ll see how it goes. But yeah Bob was basically just sitting around somewhere with popcorn as Heaven tried to smite Matt. After all, Death wouldn’t let him die. He, and as such the apocalypse, were never in any danger.

        Lol though the smiting going through does actually lead towards the bad ending version of the story. His potential and actual familiars would have still been killed. Matt’s the only unkillable one.

        And as for Mara. She hates Hell lol. It’s the equivalent of a High School full of sadistic jocks and she was the weak geek.

    4. The Ink Chimera Avatar
      The Ink Chimera

      This is really fun. For one, I love playing devil’s advocate, and having god as a less than benevolent force.

      But I also love the absurdity. Not to say it’s bad. Just the idea of “This is a crazy, dumb, bad idea. But we’re gonna do it anyway.” Is absurd, but with a point.

      And the characters have such good chemistry between them. I love it. Keep up the good work.

      1. Lol I completely take the absurdity as a compliment! The chaotic nature of it all was very much intended. I’m so glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for the review!

    5. I really enjoyed this story. As another reviewer said, this concept of role-reversal isn’t exactly new, but I still like it a lot. Who is to say that only because most people see something as good, it really is? Who is to say that only because the devil/demons/whatever else in that direction are seen as these malevolent creatures they are? Maybe they’re just really misunderstood, who knows. And this little dash of madness made your story even more entertaining. Thank you for sharing.

      1. Thank you so much! That’s actually one of the main reasons that Matt has both an angel and a demon on his side. And they’ll end up fighting and teaming up with both. It’s less an idea of good vs evil and more opposing perspectives that can’t coexist. Or at least that’s the plan lol

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