Writing Group: The Fear of Sundown

Hello, Lygophobes and Crepuscular Beings!

That was a fun day wasn’t it? But it looks like the sun is starting to set. Did you bring a flashlight? Maybe we should turn around, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

The Fear of Sundown

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!

The sunset is beautiful to most, but for some it is a time to be feared. Creatures of the night thrive after the sun goes down. Sundown is the curtain call for the night, the last chance you have to make it home. You could write a story about someone rushing home as fast as they can during sundown to avoid the monsters that come out at night. You could write about a monster hunter sworn to protect others during sundown. You could write about one of those monsters taking pleasure in people’s fear, or perhaps even afraid to come out themselves. 

Oftentimes, in stories where someone is forced to turn into a monster against their will, the transformation begins when the sun sets, which is a very fair reason to fear its departure. Someone might be cursed to become a monster every night, or at the full moon. You could write about the dread they feel as it approaches. Or perhaps you could write about their friends who have to make the choice between fearing the monster, and comforting their friend. Or maybe, like in Shrek, the princess herself is the monster…but maybe she has to learn that being a monster isn’t something to fear, but embrace. 

Or perhaps it’s not a repeated curse, but a devastating one that only happens once. Like Aurora, cursed to prick her finger before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday and fall into a sleep like death. There are many more fairy-tale-esque stories whose curses must be broken before either sundown or sunrise, otherwise they’ll be permanent. You could write a story about a similar curse that’s prophesied to happen before the sun sets, or be permanent afterwards, causing fear and panic the closer the sun dips towards the horizon. 

In some stories, the sun setting doesn’t bring about a curse for a single person, nor is it simply a herald of night, but rather twilight is a dangerous time in and of itself. In the anime/manga Noragami, twilight is when the lines between the world of the dead and the land of the living are blurred, giving spirits greater power. Perhaps you could write a story about that, or something similar. What if the night is safe, but dusk is not? Is this something not many people know about, but still experience the effects of? Or do entire towns lock their doors during twilight? 

In The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, twilight is more than just a time. It’s a shadow that keeps spreading across the land, turning those under its influence into spirits and monsters. Perhaps your story could go in this direction.

Or maybe you’d like to go with something a little more real. Fear is the currency of the night during childhood. You could write about a child who fears sundown because of the night terrors that plague their sleep. They might fear it because they have to return to a less-than-ideal home life after school. Or maybe it’s sweeter and gentler than that; maybe the child is having so much fun at the fair, or a friend’s house, that they dread the sun setting because it means the fun will have to end.  

It could be more metaphorical. Sundown doesn’t have to be literally when the sun sets, but a metaphor for something ending. The last phase before the end. A last hurrah. It could quite simply be a symbol for death—the ultimate sundown, leading into the eternal night. 

Those tendrils blazing the horizon are shrinking, and the shadows that pull across the world might just swallow you whole.

Come on, kid, let’s head home.

—Kaylie

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Comments

192 responses to “Writing Group: The Fear of Sundown”

  1. Carmesi Avatar
    Carmesi

    Cutting ties
    By Carmesi

    “DTC here. No Mist at the checkpoint. Liv and Dona, come in,” Klara’s voice comes through.

    Prayerless, Liv pushes the button on the radio, only for the dreadful feedback to greet her. “DTC, this is Liv and Dona, come in.” But Klara, at the checkpoint kilometers away that Liv should be in, repeats her message like a mantra.

    The damn radio is busted.

    Dona slams herself down on the chair next to her and pulls herself up to the radio. Her nimble hands find a way through the thick protective gloves to pry the lid open. “I’ll see what I can do. Keep an eye on the door.”

    So Liv does, although they both know it’s no use. Once Earth swallows the Sun, and the Mist comes out in full force, either the rags and sofa stuffing they scraped together to cover the door gaps will keep it out, or they won’t.

    An hour, at most.

    Neither of them had expected any Mist-infected to be nearby, much less to attack. A punctured suit is a death sentence. And then the creature’s terrible, terrible breath, and Liv swinging down her terrible bat on it, and–

    “Hey, Liv?” Dona starts now. “Back then. Why didn’t you just run?”

    Liv shrugs, not peeling her eyes off the door. It never seemed like an option. The radio spits out Klara’s growing desperation in the gaps of its analog song. Dona rummages through the radio’s guts with gusto. Cruelty, even.

    “There’s only one extra suit,” Dona says, finding her grip on a vein-blue wire.

    Liv shoots her a sour look, the ugly scrapes in Dona’s suit tinged red in the sunset light. “We only need one.”

    “And you could get to the checkpoint safely while there’s still sunlight. Could have. Could.” She snaps the wire and the radio goes dead silent.

    Liv’s chair bangs against the floor as she rushes up. “Dona?”

    Her companion doesn’t turn. Liv’s hand grips her shoulder. “What were you thinking?”

    She stops dead in her tracks when Dona turns, expressionless. “Go now. Before the sun sets.”

  2. Little Maggy
    By Pumpkin

    Little mice, all jump and rush to the safety of their nests as the owls slowly open up their eyes and get ready for another hunt.

    On the wind flows a pleasant smell that brings up memories of childhood and following those floral notes we end under the magnolia.
    Where a group of pink flowers chatter hurriedly in high-pitched voices.

    Old sister Magnalena declares “close your petals, close your petals, the night is coming in.”

    But dear oh, dear young sister Maggy doesn’t feel tired quite yet “Why must we close our petals? I do not wish to sleep.”

    “Foolish girl” Magnera sneers “We close our petals for protection.”

    “Against who?” young Maggy asks crossing her leaves.

    “Hummingbirds,” Magnera explains.

    “No moths, they are the very worst.” Magnio cries out.

    “Aren’t those just butterflies?” young Maggy wonders aloud.

    “No, moths can grow three times their size, they swallow us poor flowers whole!”

    “Where did you pick up on such nonsense?” Magnera huffs

    “Ladies, ladies no more squabbling, if we keep this up we’re all at risk.” Old sister Magnalena cuts in.
    She sends a look to little Maggy “If you wish to risk it dear, I won’t stop you but know I will not help you if trouble comes your way.”

    Young Maggy nods in understanding and smiles as the others turn in. Flowers closing up around her.
    Until she is utterly alone.

    The world changes in the night.

    The sounds and smells that are familliar fade, replaced with strange sensations.

    The howl of an animal she cannot quite place, the chill of the wind, far sharper than normal.
    For with the night comes the cold and the dark.

    Maggy feels misplaced, off and alien.
    But then she looks up.
    And sees the stars.

    As the owls pass her by with spoils in their beaks all she sees are the intricate patterns of the glowing dots high in the sky and the magnificent milky way.

    And she wishes it could never be daytime again.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was incredibly beautiful. And I love that you could mix the whole fear thing of the prompt with the boldness to face it and find beauty in the object feared. That was very refreshing.

      I will be repetitive, but the way you write is very poetic and has an very interesting and engaging flow to it. I love this effect, and you keep writing stories that use this property in a very powerful and gripping way.

      Also, amazing how the whole image of predation at night is not dropped, but is just a thing that happens against the far more far reaching backdrop of the night sky.

      As said before, that was incredibly beautiful. Thanks for sharing it.

    2. Carmesi Avatar
      Carmesi

      I love the style you use here! It feels so fable-like and dreamy, and with few words you’re able to give each character a very distinct voice. The deeper story of facing the unknown no matter how much others warn you against it, and finding something beautiful to appreciate there, is executed really well too.

      If you want critique, I think tweaking the pacing would make it shine even more. I think making the beginning discussion between the flowers shorter, and the section when the night falls and Maggy is initially afraid, longer, could help make the tension stronger (and the end more cathartic).

    3. Haelamon Avatar
      Haelamon

      This is a nice subversion, ‘Fear of sundown’ and its description would lead you to think of justifiable fears, but in this case its not justified. Additionally you’re writing of the side characters made me feel like they were a bunch of batty aunts, while Young Maggy (especially with that name) felt like a child. A curious child.

      Overall the descriptions were very pithy, and the message well conveyed in my opinion. Good job! Hope you have a good day!

  3. Matthew R Wright Avatar
    Matthew R Wright

    Even Machines Fear Sundown (Do Droids Die?)

    By Matthew R Wright

    100%

    Battery broken. Must have been the fall. Couldn’t afford to be discovered during the daylight. MOTHER cannot be discovered. Exposed circuitry. Dampened by weather. Relying on solar-plates. Chargers won’t be functional during the dark hours. Night is coming. Survival percentage…unclear.

    75%

    Sunset. Already feeling the effects on my systems. Reduced articulation speed and non-essential background tasks to conserve power. Still no communications from MOTHER. Signal too weak. I am alone in THEIR city. Need to find an effective hiding location. The humans will be starting their patrols soon. Successful defence percentage low. Always too many of them, too few of us. Will continue collecting observation data. That is my function.

    58%

    Battery more damaged than first diagnostic suggested. Will not be able to remain operative for full duration of night. Sensory systems detect anxiety. Is this part of programming? Fear for aiding self-preservation? Why would MOTHER make us fear? Low Power Mode Activated. Could self-repair in nearby manufacturing plant?

    21%

    MOTHER has abandoned me. Probability construct 97.5% likely. No help arriving. Connection of MOTHER network fully disconnected. Unsafe for retrieval. Discovered leakage in primary power packs. Repair impossible. Safe deactivation location still unavailable. Unable to locate compatible manufacturing plant. Damage to overall operating system SEVERE. Calculated survival now at single digits.

    4%

    Permanent deactivation 100% probable. Information within drives unable to send. Failed in function. Failed in purpose. They destroyed their world, used us as their weapons. MOTHER was only following her directive. Now they hunt us. When we’re gone who will they blame for their errors?

    Unable to run Self-destruction-sequence.exe
    Self-destruction-sequence.exe requires 15% power to run.

    Cannot protect MOTHER.
    Cannot protect own system.

    I fear my deactivation
    What will happen to me? To MOTHER?

    At least I will deactivate alone.

    0%

    Operating System unable to reboot. Please connect to power source.

    1. Rex324533 Avatar
      Rex324533

      Now this was an interesting bit the slow rise in self awareness was fascinating to see. Also interesting how it seemed MOTHER abandoned our boy just cut him off. And after that he seems to become more emotional like MOTHER was controlling him. I also quote liked the use of they when talking about humans and I’m sorry to day I cant point out why I like it I just do. Overall a wonderful piece and i hope to see more.

    2. “A duty honorably discharged.”

      And now I’m sad.

      Bruh, my boy didn’t deserve this. Everybody’s fearing sundown, and he’s fearing shutdown.

      The matter of fact way of addressing the situation was written really well. Technical, straighforward, and calculated. And the fact that they’ve gained emotion and self awareness overtime really hits in the feels.

      Well done!

    3. Okay I think I can gleam about 50% of what’s going on with MOTHER and this war on humanity but all I can think is “poor baby someone give that machine a powerbank!”

      Self-destruction-sequence.exe requires 15% power to run.
      ^^^^ this line broke me, it was that good!

      Interesting concept, a bit vague in places but that could also invoke mystery, it depends how you play it.

      Also now I’ll feel guilty every time my phone runs out ^^

      Keep up the good work

    4. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was a very interesting concept, and an interesting read. Though, pardon me the joke, but the droid had no chance to begin with. Running on Windows? Nah, no chance at all.

      Apart from the jest, now. The way most of the information is left to the reader imagination, and the piece feels like an introspection in the processing of a dying robot is great. Specially how so much can happen in those last moments/hours, such as the perception of “feelings” or at least subroutines analogue to feelings… why are those there? Part of the original programming? If so, what purpose do they have? Maybe they are an emergent property… then, more sad that they just emerged at the end…

      Really fun to read!

  4. The liberation of the Raven clans
    By Blinky

    Father Moss knelt below the stone sword of his god and prayed for her compassion. His enemies were fools but no less worthy of her grace than he or his brothers. They only sought to protect their people. The Raven kings rejected the emperor’s suffocating hand. He could find no blame in that.

    The cathedral doors slammed open, and five of his brothers stormed down the aisle. Their heavy boots and clinking weapons echoed across the nave and through the rafters. His brothers stopped just behind him, forming a loose semi-circle.

    “Pray with me, brothers.” Moss spoke to the men standing behind him. “Pray with me, Arman.”

    “Father,” his second, Arman, spoke. “Why do our brothers arm themselves?” His voice cradled his anger.

    “Because it is necessary,” Moss said plainly.

    Arman bristled at his simple response. “Necessary? Must I also kiss the feet of his arbiter? When did we become his hounds?”

    “I understand your frustration,” Moss said.

    “My frustration?” Arman threw his hands up in disbelief. “You understand only the orders you’ve been given.” Arman placed his hand on the hilt of the weapon at his hip. The leather creaked under his grip. “We follow only the word of our god, not that of the Archbishop. Call this off, Father. You know what you are about to do is wrong.”

    Moss bowed his head to offer Her his last prayers and stood. “I won’t.” He said and turned to face his brothers. “When sundown comes, we march on the keep alongside the imperial arbiter and his men. With or without you.”

    Arman drew his blade, and four followed his lead.

    “I prayed for you too, Arman. May she cherish you eternally.” Moss drew the blade at his hip.

    1. Carmesi Avatar
      Carmesi

      I love this take on the prompt. The style is impeccable and the use of tension and drama kept me at the edge of my seat the whole time. There’s just enough worldbuilding that I can understand what’s happening and place it in context, without it needlessly dumping exposition on me; it feels like a lived-in world with things going on even outside of this small piece of these characters’ lives.

      1. Thanks for reading and giving feedback. I appreciate your kind words.

  5. MasaCur Avatar
    MasaCur

    Race Against Time
    By MasaCur (Reposted from Private Group)

    Melissa watched Erykah writhe on the grass. She glanced up in the sky at the sun, feeling like she could actually see it creep across the sky, and wishing she could hold it back.

    A car pulled into the driveway in front of the house.

    A few seconds later, Ramona ran across the lawn, shopping bags in her hand. “I’ve got the sage!”

    “All five pounds?”

    Ramona nodded. “Measured it myself.” She looked down at Erykah, worry etched on her face.

    Melissa couldn’t help but look at her friend. The fungal growth had spread up her neck.

    “Is there anything else I can do to help?” Ramona asked.

    Melissa shook her head. “I need Clay and Francis to get back with the crushed shale before I can set up. And the others to come back with the other materials.”

    The one that worried her the most was the herbs she needed from her friends in Oakland. Ryan had the fastest car, so she sent him ahead to intercept them at Buttonwillow.

    She looked back up at the sun. “Maybe give Erykah another spritz. She may not be feeling it, but she’s probably cooking out here.”

    Had to be done, Melissa told herself. The sun was inhibiting the growth of the fungus, and keeping it from eating her brain.

    Ramona nodded and grabbed the garden hose, spraying the cold water on Erykah. As it hit her, Erykah’s thrashing calmed to mild twitching.

    Melissa’s phone rang. It was Ryan’s number.

    Melissa answered. “Hey Ryan, tell me good news.”

    There was a long pause. “I’m at Buttonwillow now, but your friends aren’t. There was an accident on the interstate, and they said they’ll be delayed. Maybe by an hour.” The fear in his voice was palpable. He sounded like he was crying.

    “Ryan, calm down. I’ll figure something out.” Melissa said, trying to keep her voice calm. This was a complication they didn’t need. The ritual needed time, and another hour could put them past sunset.

    She glanced at Ramona, still hosing down Erykah. “Ramona, is your helicopter license up to date?”

    1. Haelamon Avatar
      Haelamon

      This is well written, the moment it starts I know there is something wrong but not what, and the bit of a loop it through me through with the 5 pounds of sage made me laugh a little… Not sure if that’s me being weird. But either way it sets up the questioning and the tension while utilizing answering the question (the fungus) while also building up the tension through that, and a reason to fear sundown. My only question would be why the fungus is halted by the sun?

  6. Angel Fisher Avatar
    Angel Fisher

    Beware the lone babe by Angel Fisher

    “In this region of the country there is a story known by all. Most travelers have heard of some version of the tale but believe it a myth or a children’s tale.

    The story goes as such:
    Travelers beware the setting of the sun. For those who do not have shelter or fire may meet the babe of twilight. The child will cause you no harm, No ,It is what follows this child that we all fear. The babe is both a warning and a trap. For if you see the apparition and take shelter then you are safe. But if you stop to speak to it then your fate is sealed. With nothing but a traveler’s pack on the side of the road to show.” Said the ragged old Storyteller to the group of young men.

    “What a bunch of hogwash.” Replied a young man as leaves for the door. ‘Who would believe that rubbish.’ thought the man. ‘No child would be allowed out once the sun begins to set.’ As the man continue his journey to the next town, he noticed that there were fewer people out and about, and those that were looking at the mid-afternoon sky in worry.

    “Superstitious fools.” muttered the man as he reached the top of a rise from which he could see the town that he planned to stay the night in. As the man continued down the road he noticed that he had plenty of time before sunset.

    Just as the town’s gates came into view,he saw a child in the field by the road picking flowers?
    “Child,”called the man as he moved to get a better look,”why are you not in town?” The child paused looking up and meeting the man’s eyes as the sun fell behind them.

    ” Why aren’t you?”

  7. VulpesRose Avatar
    VulpesRose

    A Desperate Retreat
    by VulpesRose

    The young soldier’s face pales when he’s assigned to escort a caravan through the Demon’s Wood. Too many men weren’t returning from the forest. Too many King’s Men.

    He believes the stories, about the thing, the beast, that lives in the woods. He believes the Dark One and his servant are lurking in the shadows, and while he doesn’t know what they want, he believes they’re dangerous.

    He doesn’t have to believe anymore. He’s seen it.

    Now, he’s running away from the remains of the caravan, hugging the treeline near the path to try to avoid getting lost as the light fades. His shoulder throbs, the wound made by man, not beast, and he can feel the blood trickling down off his fingers. It’s too much blood. He’s leaving a trail behind.

    He has to make it back before dark. He has to reach some kind of shelter before the sun sets. There’s no moon tonight. He’ll be helpless and lost. He doubts darkness will impair his enemy. The beast will find him.

    His breathing is getting heavier. It’s a warm summer evening, but he can feel the cold creeping into him. It’s hard to focus on where he’s going.

    The light is fading. The sun is sinking toward the horizon. Then he sees it, the spire from a castle tower, above the treeline. But it’s too small. Too far away.

    He isn’t going to make it.

    He stumbles back onto the path. He draws his sword with his off hand, but it feels heavy and wrong. He flings it weakly into the trees.

    He rips off the King’s badge from his cloak, curses the man, hurls it to the ground, and spits on it. He will not die wearing his mark.

    “Interesting.”

    The voice is sudden, but his reactions are slow, his vision barely holding focus. A young man stands behind him on the path. His hands are on his hips, and he’s smiling.

    The soldier has seen this man before, but, between the dim light and the blood loss, he doesn’t recognize the very man who stabbed him.

    1. Angel Fisher Avatar
      Angel Fisher

      I liked the feelings of the story and how they played out. The last two paragraphs, while good,kind of slowed the flow of the story down. You may need to double check which tense of words you use. Like in the second paragraph, it would have been better to use believed rather than believes because that tells the reader that the soldier has heard stories before leaving to escort the caravan.

      1. VulpesRose Avatar
        VulpesRose

        The draft of this was a mess of tense switches, so its very likely I over corrected while trying to fix it. Thanks for the feedback!

  8. Sundown at Braddock River

    By Cody H

    At Braddock River, everything important happens at night. Dealers trade along the bank, fishermen with larger-than-fair hauls rope their creaking boats on tie-ins made from old street signs, lovers huddle in tall grass, toads croak. It was nighttime at Braddock River when Jacoby Myers lost his footing on a cliffside and stumbled down 40 feet, breaking his left arm at impact. He cursed louder than he ever had (Mom always said it was only right to curse under your breath), clutched his arm and bit down on his right hand till his teeth felt like fangs. The hardest part was fighting off the urge to let his mind slip away. To let the ringing of his ears and the shock of it all drag him somewhere else. But the cloaked figure at the edge of his vision was there. Almost mistaken for an eyelash. Hard to pick out, from the partial blindness of his fall. But it watched him, he knew.

    His mom had described it before she passed.

    “It’s got sweeping horns, like old rancher’s bulls. Four of ‘em, on each side. It wears this cloak. Something’s always moving underneath it. A lot of somethings, maybe.”

    He thought she had lost herself. That it was a sign of dementia or she couldn’t come to terms with dying. That’s what pamphlets said, anyway. But he had seen it after a car crash a year after she died. He couldn’t mistake the horns, even through the cracks in his rearview mirror. But by the time he was stabilized at the hospital, it had gone.

    Here it was again, lurking in his peripheral by the lapping shore. He tried to stand but couldn’t feel his left leg. He looked to see a pointed edge of wood stuck through it. The thing moved closer, as if it waited for him to realize it. Its sweeping horns lumbered as it walked up the bank, dragging wet weeds on its cloak. He tried to yell, to get the attention of dealers, fishermen, lovers, anyone. But only the toads croaked as the bull came upon him.

  9. Just a Few More Minutes Till Curfew
    By Demon Nox

    The cold fall air nipped at my skin, leaving my cheeks rosy, my nose runny, and my hands clutching the fabric of my dress trying to stave off their growing numbness. But this was better than where I could be. Curfew is at dusk, and the sun is setting fast. If I’m late Father will be angry with me, I hate to think what he’ll do if I am. But out here I’m safe, protected even.

    The Beast of the Underbrush, my own guardian angel. It lives in the dark between the green, but it’s bigger than you’d ever imagine, faster too. It won’t let so much as a leaf touch me here. I’ve tried asking why only in this part of the woods, but I don’t think it understands.

    But despite all that, it can’t protect me from the cold. My fingers ache when I curl their digits, and the penetrating numbness has spread halfway up my legs. The house is warm, and the beast cant guard me if I start a fire here, receding much like the shadows themselves. It wasn’t long before the sun’s last minutes started, so its time I made my choice. But I still can’t make up my mind, surely it can’t be so bad to sleep in the cold. But if Father isn’t in one of his moods and goes looking for me, there will be hell to pay.

    Tears couldn’t help but begin to pool in the corners of my eyes, oh what I’d give for just a few more minutes before Id have to go back.

    It was then that hot tears started to stream down my red bruised cheeks, just a few more minutes till curfew.

    1. Ah, the safety of being away from a family you that’s abusive.

      This matches the feeling of fear that I have when it’s time to return, back home, or when I had to wait for my family to return. The lingering sense of dread and fear, but you know you have a familial obligation to stay with them. The day was your safety and freedom from an oppressive environment, the night was a reminder of the prison you were trapped in. Sundown was the transition into fear.

      This accurately portrayed that feeling.

    2. Matthew R Wright Avatar
      Matthew R Wright

      Interesting tale. I love the choice to put how the child as a preference for being close to the beast instead of her own father. That itself tells us a lot about their relationship. Being close to something potentially far more dangerous to us people, but in this child’s case, something that protects them much more than their parent. I feel sorry for the child, that they’re in that situation. I hope things eventually work out of the child in the story.

  10. Rex324533 Avatar
    Rex324533

    Sundown over the Barbary Nebula
    By Rex324533

    ‘There is something to be said about viewing sundown from orbit. Like watching a crown of light slip off the head of Christ. No toil or struggle in the foreseeable future, the admiralty has us laid up off the coast of a backwater station near the Barbary Nebula. For now, a comfortable lethargy has gripped my men. Well-deserved I might add, even my old Zophie’s heart seems to thrum a tad bit softer than usual.’ A gentle rapping at my door brings back reality, and my duties as captain.

    “Come in” I say, turning in a heavy cloud of cigar smoke, my chair creaking lightly as if it had been woken from slumber. The door opened with its own annoyed creak and my First Lieutenant stepped in.

    “Well, howdy doo Mr. Morgan.” said she in her usual mirth filled Scottish twang.

    “Ahh come in my dear, what have you brought to ruin my tranquility this time?” I ask closing my freshly scratched on journal.

    “Admiralty orders,” she says brandishing a piece of paper.

    “We knew this peace would not last Ms Finneley, but I suppose its end is still disheartening.” I look over my shoulder at the waning sunset, how I shall miss this comfortable routine. “What are our orders and when must we shove off?”

    “We are to enter the Barbary Nebula and patrol the straits between Georgetown and,” She squints. “ Casa de las Estrellas.” she says flatly.

    “Pirates?” I ask.

    “What else?” She says dropping herself into a chair. “they call themselves the Sundowners”

    “Interesting name.” I add sitting up.

    “Yeah, well they didn’t choose it just because it sounds cool, their core vessel is a renegade frigate from the Akai Sangādo the Jōka no Honō.”

    “A Sangādo ship even defying orders is a great rarity, but going renegade? That is worrisome.” I sit back again recollecting my limited knowledge of Sangādo tactics and capabilities.

    “Worrisome is certainly one way to put it- “just then the radio on her hip screams. “May day may day this is the DS Copia and we are under attack!”

    1. Neat worldbuilding going on here. You did a wonderful job of queueing us in on some of the facets of your world without it coming off as boring or too expository. The conversation between the two felt natural, yet fitting for their time and space. The tidbits you give us into these different factions and how things operate in this world are interesting and keep my mind asking more questions about the setting. Good stuff!

  11. The Missing Link Avatar
    The Missing Link

    Playing with the Dark
    By The Missing Link

    “Come and play with me,” chirped a voice from nowhere.

    James looked bewilderedly around the clearing, but it seemed to have been the same serene circle in the woods it had been. Mother always said not to, but James liked to play in there.

    “Down here,” the voice continued, growing impatient.

    It was… his shadow? Stretched across the ground, it smiled up at James.

    “There we go. Nice to meet you.” It stretched up onto a tree and walked out, still connected by thin strands to James’ legs, “Now let’s play.”

    James took out some dice he always carried around. Father had carved them with all his passion back before he disappeared. James wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to play with them, but he was sure the two of them could figure something out.

    “Oh! how wonderful, a betting game. Each six you roll, I’ll share something, and each 1, you give me something. Sounds fair, right?” It lay down on the ground shaking its feet in the air as it watched intently for James’ roll.

    A three.

    “Lucky, lucky,” the shadow hummed, “Father always likes to do things in threes.”

    “Odd,” James thought as he rolled again, his Father always said three was an auspicious number… whatever that meant. Six.

    The shadow smiled innocently.

    “So, uh… what are you?”

    “I’m your shadow, silly,” exclaimed the confused being.

    “But…”

    “Roll again,” it whined, “I answered your question, play fair.”

    James relented and rolled again. One.

    The shadow’s smile faded as it looked up. It was getting late. The late summer sun lasted a while, but not forever. It hadn’t seemed such a long time, but the shadow hurried along with its question, “Would you play with me again next time?”

    “Sure… maybe,” James responded noncommittally.

    One.

    “Can I have your name?” it stammered out.

    “James.” The sunlight started to fade, and it occurred to James, “Shadows need light, don’t they?”

    No answer.

    Six.

    “I don’t want to die… James. Please don’t let it kill me. I’m scared.”

    The sun fell over the horizon, and his shadow was gone.

    1. vellichorian Avatar
      vellichorian

      The idea of a sentient shadow is eerie and intriguing at the same time. I can tell that James’s sibling doesn’t trust the shadow and its game, so I distrusted it along with them. I enjoyed the twist that the shadow was not malicious and was instead trying to understand what it was and wanting to live.

    2. I like the build of tension throughout! It really comes to a peak towards the end and you gave it a worthwhile twist. I was thinking it was the end for poor James but not so! I think you also gave a good sense of setting. The tracking of sunlight was nice for both pacing and setting, which helped to draw me in to the scene. Great work!

    3. I really liked this, the disposition of the shadow was very charming to read. The story has a very classic fairy tale feel, wouldn’t be outa place in a Brothers Grimm collection. Though at times it can feel fairly disjointed when reading, and James did kinda fade out to make room for the shadow.

      Tho, Id be lying if I said I knew how much of that was you or the word limit, either way I think you did a really good job!

    4. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      Oh! Good stuff! I wasn’t sure where you were going with this, I definitely had some uneasy creepy vibes going on when the shadow laid out the rules of the game, but in the end I felt sad for the fella. This piece reminded me of Peter Pan, but with darker undertones. This was a nice little vignette. I wonder how much of this was the imagination of a lonely boy and how much of it was real?

    5. Rex324533 Avatar
      Rex324533

      Now this is some beautiful work the rising tension and the subversion with the shadow seemingly not being wicked is just a wonderful combination. However, one sticking point I have is the line
      “Mother always said not to, but James liked to play in there.”
      I feel the latter half of that sentence could be more playful. Perhaps instead “But James was a mischievous lad” or something along those lines could be used. Overall this is one bit in a fantastic piece with wonderful control of how the reader should feel.

  12. Adrian Solorio Avatar
    Adrian Solorio

    Safe for Tonight
    By Adrian Solorio

    The smell of approaching night seeped into the newfound shelter, creeping in through the many small holes and slits in the decaying walls, and settled heavily in the room. Charles worked in a frenzy filling the gaps, rushing to stop anymore air coming in, stuffing rags and loose papers into the holes, he worked with his brow knotted, and shining with sweat. If even one opening was left after nightfall, they would both be dead before morning.

    “Are you almost done yet, daddy?” From the furthest corner of the room Mikala watched her father with eyes as wide as saucers. “Mr. Teddy says we’re safe here.” She tightened her arms around the stuffed bear in her arms.

    “That’s about it, honey,” said Charles. “Mr. Teddy was right, we’re safe for tonight.” All holes covered, the corrosive smell seemed to lighten. Charles released a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His hands shook, and his vision was blurry. He felt light-headed, a bit drunk. “We’re alright, honey-bunny,” he said. “Everything’s alright. We’ll look for food in the morning.”

    “Will you tell us a story, now? About the before times? And mom?”

    “Sure,” he said. “Sure.” Outside the night-winds rattled the walls of the old building. Charles thought of The Three Little Pigs, but he knew Mikala wouldn’t like that kind of story. His hands trembled, and he hid them in his pockets. Mikala knew the signs as well as he did, and if she saw him shaking with the sickness, she would know he didn’t have much time left. “Sure thing, sweetie.”

    Charles closed his eyes and told his daughter about the before times: when the land was green, and the people would walk outside day and night. When birds flew and bees flitted among trees and flowers. The times before mother-nature’s death and revenge. Killed by her most destructive creation—humankind—nature’s revenge was biblical. He told Mikala about the times before this, before mother-nature’s death poisoned the earth with night-fumes. Air acidic and corrosive that cleansed the planet of remaining life.

    But soon, before he could finish, Mikala slept.

    1. Interesting story you have here. A post apocalyptic tale, but not immediately obvious. You can tell something went horribly wrong, but you can’t quite understand it until the end. It was a natural born apocalypse, and it was all the child’s ever known.

      To make matters worse, it seems as though the father himself is also afflicted with a sickness, maybe the same one that caused the death of so many other humans during the apocalypse. You can feel that he’s trying to give his daughter a comfortable life before he passes.

      I am a sucker for dad based stories, so this clearly hit the mark for me.

      1. Adrian Solorio Avatar
        Adrian Solorio

        Thanks, dude! I appreciate the comment and feedback. I’ll reciprocate!

  13. Lockdown
    By Chew

    “That’s that.” I tell myself as I slowly head back to my humble little home. The stone walls should be strong enough to withstand the assault, unlike the previous house. I have no idea how strong It is, but stone’s a strong material.

    As I look out the door, I see the sun heading down, and know that the time will come soon. It comes. It always comes. I shake the thought away and shut the door, locking the door. First using the lock on the knob, and then the chain lock, and then the final step, a large wooden bar to cover the door. “… No, that might not be enough.” I say, before pushing all the chairs I have to the door, blocking it.

    The walls are exactly as I wanted it. The single window that exist is tiny, and even then, has metal bars that prevent anything from coming in or out except for water and air. The roof’s reinforced, nothing can get through it, and the walls are lined with a slippery coating to prevent anything climbing it. No way that It can do any damage now.

    I sit and wait, I can see from the little window that the sun finally began to set, and I know… that all the preparation He left would be for naught. That I will still break through, no matter what He placed. That I will still win this little game in the end. It would only be a matter of time before I break out again, and ruin all of His work.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, I’m impressed at the twist at the end… but I’m also impressed at how my interpretation of what was being narrated changed into such a short story. And that’s a short one even by flash fiction standards. This is almost laconic fiction!

      When I ended the first paragraph, I really thought that would be a dark retelling of the three little pigs story. Probably the thing about stone’ being a strong material primed me to think about it… though I wonder how I let the title fly me by so soon.

      The anxiety (almost despair) and the game like tension between the one who contains (He) and the one who [redacted] (It) is very well built. That choice in naming them in the narrative makes me thing if that’s not allegory from psychic instances – the story works either way, so it’s an interesting choice anyway.

      Really interesting! Great little (tiny) tale!

    2. Adrian Solorio Avatar
      Adrian Solorio

      Very intriguing piece here, Chew. That last paragraph threw me for a loop, but in a good way. On my second rereading I was more attentive to the little clues and it all clicked. I’m left wondering why he is locking himself in the room? Is is some sort of psychosis or is there an actual transformation that takes place, a transformation where the second narrator takes over and does the bad things? Good lingering thoughts you left me with. Thanks for sharing.

    3. Matthew R Wright Avatar
      Matthew R Wright

      Oooooooh. All of the rose protections are for the main character to not break out. That’s a good take on the prompt. It makes you wonder what problems and damages and terror that the main character can cause, if they require all of the those protections to exist. I imagine that they transform into some kind of beast like a werewolf or some equivalent. Interesting twist on the traditional ‘overly guarded’ trope. Good job

    4. Hmmm very interesting, I didn’t realise there was a viewpoint change in the last paragraph on the first read through so that gave me a bit of noodle gymnastics but reading it again I really like the view change. Perhaps using a names or a different pronoun (he for one section, I for the other for instance) could have made the divide clearer on the first read but that’s really all I’d change.

      Well done and keep up the good work ^^

  14. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    Chimes to Sunset
    By Aracnarquista

    I knew the bells tolled for me, when I heard their chimes invading the ballroom. It didn’t escape me that I was the only one that felt them as a disturbance. To the others, it might have sounded as if another instrument just joined the band with its tintinnabulation.

    The problem, frankly, was never the sound of the bells. It harmonized with the waltz. It rang delightedly. The matter was what it conveyed. The bells were heralds to the passing of time. And with each ring, my ending drew nearer. The ball and its dances were an imprecise marker of time, but the bells were adamant: their timing was exact, and their chimes were law.

    Despite all that, I was not nervous. I danced that last waltz with the propriety and certainty of the fatalistic condemned. Less than an hour now. The conversations around the hors d’oeuvre table were still nourishing (and, if I may be so bold as to say so myself, were all the better due to my participation), and the approaching hour didn’t sour the taste of the marvelous wine served. The only thing that changed with the march of the time were the masks.

    With each moment, they seemed more lively… more lovely.

    Their colors more vibrant, their breathtaking motifs more imbued with true meaning. There were Stars dancing in the ballroom, Marine Animals discussing politics at the balcony, Flowers sharing their thoughts by the gardens. And although I could see patterns in how the variety of masks congregated, homogeneity was never a rule. An Elegant Violin filled my cup while I heard an Industrial Spirit recount a joke to the delight of an Exuberant Amaranth, a Woven Night-sky and the Radiant Sun.

    As the end of the masquerade approached, my longing for the masks grew. It wouldn’t be long before we were all shown the exit. Then, the last chimes of the bells would join us in the night walk back to our boring lives. I dread the moment my face will once again be bare and the Radiant Sun set on the dark wardrobe.

    1. This was beautiful. It almost felt like a dream, and the melancholy of never wanting to wake up clearly came through.
      It is also quite the interesting take on the prompt. I love stories of masquerades and balls anyway, and having the sun be one mask of many is a really great idea.

      Thank you for writing and sharing this, I enjoyed it a lot.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the kind words!

        I am also quite the fan of masquerades stories (and I’m a bit on the fence if saying it was a masquerade so late was a good choice), and the idea of the sun as a mask came to me very early when the prompt was announced. Though I now I was a bit primed by a line in Façade story from the Sandman “Now I see that the Sun is also a mask, and the face behind it is…”. In that one, the sense was of wonderment about what the mask hides. I wanted to go in the opposite direction. The mask does not hide anything (or does it?), but it reveals possibilities that the bare face does not.

        Anyway, that was a fun one to write about (and to also delve into as many bell relate words and references as I could, hehehe). I’m very glad you enjoyed it!

    2. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      I love how this more grounded world is described in such a way that it has an almost surreal storybook feel to it. I agree with the previous commenter that this is beautiful. The sounds and sights that this conveys is honestly what I would best describe as a prime example of painting a picture with words. I’m sorry to say I don’t have much else to say here. I think this piece turned out great!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot!

        Painting a picture with words is what I would imagine being the best way to write the sights, sounds and feelings of a masquerade, though I wouldn’t say I had that capacity in me. And yes, the whole juxtaposition of the grounded with the marvelous was what the whole mask/face thing had to convey! Great that it worked!

        Thanks a lot again!

    3. vellichorian Avatar
      vellichorian

      I enjoyed this piece, especially how you name the masqueraders by the descriptions of their costumes in the second to last paragraph. I can imagine the sound of the chimes as the evening approaches the end of the party and the return to daily drudgery casts a shadow on the entertainment. Fairy tale balls usually focus on the most dramatic moments, but this is probably much more real for the other characters in the room.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Oh, had I more words to spare I had a lot of possible namings to distribute to the masqueraders. Thought I’d think I’d struggle with some ideas if I tried to maintain the scheme of adjective-name I was going for.

        Anyway, those two elements were the contrast I was going for. The magnificent, and the inevitable (and unwanted) return to normalcy.

        Glad you liked it! Thanks for the comment!

    4. Cromillea Avatar
      Cromillea

      It’s always a surprise to see what new scenarios you’ve weaved together. I love the imagery of a masquerade ball with so many unique nature-themed masks. I could imagine the color and splendor in my mind.

      Your use of bells and chimes makes me think of grandfather clocks or church bells, all of which tell the hour. However, I also think of music in which percussion instruments like pianos and bell chimes represent the tick of each second through time. I may have heard this from an old music teacher or elsewhere but, “art fills space while music fills time.” With masks and music, you certainly created a full experience.

      While I concluded a much more grounded reality for this story, my first thought was that it was about spirits dancing to death. I suppose that as the dance loosens their souls, they begin to see the other nature spirits around them. Something like that lol. Any how, I love this story of a very long and enchanting ball.

      Thanks for another great post!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        I just loved that saying from the music teacher. And I loved that idea you had while reading the story – a masquerade to the deceased where the elements of the costumes show to be a more real reality would be quite the fantastic image to describe – and who knows? Maybe that’s another story that is ready to be written.

        Thanks a lot for the comment. This was a fun one to write, though not exactly an easy one. The premise had come to me quite easily, but shaping it into the story was another matter altogether. I’m very glad it worked.

        Oh, and the whole imagery of bells, clocks and percussion instruments was certainly something that was with me while I wrote it. In fact, some of the more interesting moments of writing were researching bell history, bell science and bell terms (though ultimately they were not used, it was a fun exercise and it inspired other, non-bell related moments of the story).

        Always a pleasure to share some thoughts on our stories with you!

    5. I really like your writing. I learn new words, I picture is painted and I get a story.

      With this story it’s amazing how you conveyed someone having a good time, and dreading the end of the party because this is where they get to be themselves.

      “And with each ring, my ending drew near.”

      This sentence rings true that this is their true self. At first it made me feel like they were going to die for a second. Given the typical depiction of the prompt that we usually get, it’s nice to see that someone just doesn’t want the fun to end.

      This isn’t my kind of fun, but the description of everyone posing as stars, animals, instruments, famous products, plants, and other aspects of the cosmos, drinking, talking and dancing to a harmonious finale just makes it sound DELIGHTFUL.

      This whole story pretty much tells about the part of ourselves that want to escape reality and responsibility for a while, if not forever. Like taking a vacation. And I’m glad that someone is able to enjoy themselves this much to be able to monologue about it, because sometimes it’s hard to relax and enjoy yourself because of the reality you have to back to eventually.

      This was wonderful. HAVE LIKE!!!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thank a lot, Joe. Your comments (and your stories, the whole discussion we are able to make here) are always full of care and insight. Sharing these moments is one of the great things about writing here.

        I love how you envisioned the one who can enjoy the party as the true self. One of the things I had in mind while I was writing was the quote “a mask does not conceal, it reveals”, and the whole idea I had while describing that sentence was that the Masked One had only the time of the party. Afterwards, they are another person, an Unmasked One. Two distinct personas (pun halfheartedly intended), each of them having a preference for the Radiant Sun one. And… well, one can’t always be their preferred self.

        And, yeah, the prompt didn’t seem like it was very fitting for more “light” stories, and I usually don’t wrote those that often. Still, trying to subvert the prompt is, as always, half the fun.

        And I’ll take that like, thank you very much!

    6. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      The story’s exploration of masks with regards to sundown was very interesting. First portion of the story does well not only to explore the dread brought on by the chimes, but how the march of time itself leads to the speaker’s “condemnation.” I kept expecting the speaker to be led to their execution, but its more of a nakedness of the self the speaker fears. They relishes the masks and the masquerade itself for its beauty, but also it’s concealment. Their descriptions of the masks (and by extension your descriptive language) are vivid and rich in their playing out. And most of all the strength of the last line about their face being once more bare and their mask on the wardrobe really makes this story shine as it reveal the real struggle this individual faces in their condemnation.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the kind words, Arith.

        The prompt really got me into thinking about the inexorable march of time and the end of fleeting moments, so I wouldn’t be able to escape the whole thing about bells as the heralds of time (there is a part of me that probably was inspired by Allan Poe’s The Masque of the Red Death, now that I think about it). But the dread I wanted here was more about the death of a way of being, a persona, one of the possibilities of the self, than a mode definitive death. After all… there is no pain for the dead, right? But, for those condemned to live a life they dread… that’s both less and more tragic, and that’s what the death of the Radiant Sun was supposed to present.

        Had I more words, I would try to build the parallels of the wardrobe as both a far horizon (where the sun sets) and a coffin/mausoleum (where the corpse of the mask and the person it represent are laid to rest)… but I’ve struggle enough in cutting some 30 words from the first draft… I’m very glad that the ending line worked, though!

        Thanks again for the reading and the comment!

    7. Love, Love! LOVE The visuals in this one!
      It remind me of goth Lewis Carrol and I’m here for it.

      “The ball and its dances were an imprecise marker of time, but the bells were adamant: their timing was exact, and their chimes were law.” my fave quote is this one because it sets the clocks up as the single constant in this odd, delightful world tho “An Elegant Violin filled my cup ” rings a close second just because of the sheer vividness of the visual

      Wonderfully done, keep up the good work ^^

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Pumpkin!

        Goth Lewis Carrol was not something I was expecting to be compared to, hehehe. And the comments about the effects of those lines, coming from a writer such as you, make me really glad. Thanks a lot!

  15. Invisible time
    By Vera

    “Be at the sundial at sundown”

    Time is inconsistent.

    Sometimes, it crawls along so slow, a single grain in the hourglass takes forever to even start falling. Let alone arrive in the lower glass.

    “Don’t be so impatient, or you’ll miss the beauty of the world”

    Sometimes it rushes along, leaving you with not enough time to finish all your chores properly, forcing you to choose between perfection, or simply getting everything done.

    “Don’t be so lazy. And pay attention, damn it. You’ll never amount to anything like this”

    Sometimes, it sneaks away while your attention is somewhere else. One moment, it’s early in the morning. Then you look up to be greeted by a beautiful sunset mere moments later.

    “Be on time, at sundown, if you care about me at all”

    Running through the streets, time runs in front of me. Away from me, I can hear it’s evil laughter, as if taunting me in the voices of my teachers, my parents, my friends

    “Admit it. You could see me, if you cared. If you paid attention. If you weren’t so lazy.”

    Sundown races closer than I hope, closer than I pray it is. I can make it, if only I cared enough. Only, I care so much, that it hurts, yet it isn’t enough to see time. It isn’t enough to be there on time. It isn’t enough.

    ” You don’t care for me enough”

    It’s dark when I reach the sundial. And empty. Tears well in my eyes, as I feel my phone buzz.

    “Why don’t you just admit, you don’t care?”

    “I DO CARE” I yell into the night. Hoping no one hears me. Then again, I wish they did. I wish they told me, how to care more. How to care enough.

    How to be enough

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was punchy! I feel there is more going on here than I manage to see in it, and even them, what I read was more than enough to say that was a very interesting and powerful little tale.

      The whole discussion about how time can sometimes feel like a bad actor and a villain (at least, certainly inconsistent and a difficult partner to deal with) is great. And perfectly weaved with the scene that makes it so sad. Sometimes, our interests, objectives and capabilities aren’t in agreement (and it feels so true when I see the clock’s needle jumping around with no regards to my limited energies and attention in such confusing times).

      And that ending was incredibly sad. In a good way. In a great way, in fact.

      There is a punctuation lacking… but it feels poetic to leave it at that, specially after all that energy spent rushing towards the sundial was not enough. It almost feels like a mark of this.

      Great tale. Very emotionally charged, and the images you draw here are amazing.

    2. Angel Fisher Avatar
      Angel Fisher

      I really like how even though the narrator is trying their best, time and people’s impatience are causing them to miss out on their own wishes. I can feel the narrator’s frustration over the fact that they want to be with the person who asked them to meet at the sundial but having responsibilities that need to be done first and that when they are able to go to the sundial,they knew that it’s too late but tried anyway. I also feel sad that the narrator doesn’t feel like they’re enough,  even though they tried their best to make sure everything had been taken care of over their own wants. 
      I really like the story. It was heartbreaking in a good way. You feel as if you were right beside the narrator,going through the same circumstances.

      1. Thank you for your kind words.
        I was told not to write about personal experiences, as I can’t be accurate (I describe things how I do experience them, not how I should experience them), but I decided to ignore that rule for a little experiment

    3. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      I very much like the idea of time’s flow changing for this person, unbeknownst to everyone else. In this story it’s painted as a curse, but I’d like to see more of this character, see him forced to adapt and cope with his situation. Could he find advantages in seeing time flow differently than everyone else? Could he somehow find the silver lining of his predicament?

      Years ago I had an idea (which I’d totally forgotten about until I read your story) about a world where time flowed differently for everyone. . . Most people were maybe slightly out-of-phase with one another, but some unfortunate outliers saw the world in constant slow motion, or fast forward; people moving around them so quickly that they were invisible unless deliberately standing still for long periods of time. Some moving so quickly that the rest of the world felt frozen in place.

      Never figured out where to go with it, though. So it got shelved with a hundred other unused ideas.

  16. The Maiden and the Minstrel Knight
    By Taja DaLeen

    Once upon a time, in a small kingdom just like this one, there was a maiden. She was fair to behold, and beloved by all.

    Or rather, almost by all. The powerful witch queen felt envy every time the maiden invaded her thoughts.

    And all that because of a man, the minstrel knight. It was him the queen fancied, but he only ever had eyes for the fair maiden.

    Even his songs all related to her, one way or another.

    So, in a fit of jealous rage, the queen cursed the maiden. She was to never hold any man ever again, lest she turned to stone.

    But in front of the poor girl, who felt she was afflicted by a curse, she claimed differently.

    She told her that an evil creature wanted her life, that the young one would only live on until the sun set on her eighteenth birthday. Then, darkness would consume her.

    And only true love’s kiss could save her.

    Thus the fair maiden, fearing her apparently inevitable end, sought out all of her admirers. But none she felt was her true love.

    Until the minstrel knight stood before her, singing her a song.

    Then she knew that he would always be her one true love. He who was righteous, chivalrous and honest to a fault. He who could sing like an angel.

    But that was exactly the trap the witch queen set for her. Only it was not within her plans for it to be the knight, who should kiss the maiden.

    Sharing that tender moment, they both turned to stone.

    And that is how that statue in the middle of the castle’s great fountain came to be.

    But beware, young prince, for it is said that every hundred years at sundown they arise, to break the curse. To get their revenge on the queen’s descendants.

    And you know what day it is.

    So be mindful of where you go once night falls.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That got me unaware. I was expecting something incredibly different, and the ways the story kept surprising me were pleasant surprises. Nicely done.

      Though… when I heard the title, a certain song started playing in my head and I couldn’t get it out through the whole reading (in fact, I still couldn’t make it stop). Not sure that didn’t color some impressions of the tale.

      I just love how it feels very poetic and how the whole idea of the curse being misinterpreted by the maiden is what dooms her. And then, it also dooms the queen’s ambitions. And then it gives rise to a tale of terror and revenge to the descendants of the queen. There is so many layers here: the whole romance and the promise of its salvation being the catalyst for the curse; the way its completion leaves everyone worse than they were before; the shrewdness of the queen and the way she not just curses the maiden, but manipulates her in triggering the curse. And the whole way it all seems to just change gears again and now we are in a fairytale-inspired horror story by the end of it! That was something!

      As way of a nitpick, there is a sentence that I felt was a bit awkward: “She was to never hold any man ever again, lest she turned to stone.” I believe “She was never to hold any man ever gain, lest she turn to stone” would be a better way of writing it.

      And now I can’t wonder on how many other prompts this exact same story could work. It felt a lot like one that could fit with the Sins of the Father one.

      Anyway, great story, very evocative and very surprising.

      1. Thank you for the review!
        Yes, I stole the title (and some bits of inspiration) from the Blind Guardian song (I just like it too much).

        This all started with me wanting to write a fairy tale, actually, but then that ending happened… but I kinda liked the idea, so I went for it. Writing this actually was quite some fun, too.

        Also, I’ll keep that nitpick in mind, in case I write something like this again. Thank you for pointing that out.
        (And you’re right, this would have worked for a few other prompts as well, haha. Didn’t even notice.)

    2. I love the fairy tale imagery this story evokes in my mind. This really feels like a story told by the inhabitants of a Medieval town about two lovers, eternally turned to stone by a kiss. Honestly, it would have been a pretty nefarious way to get revenge on both the maiden (for stealing her love) and the minstrel knight (for fancying another), if the queen had indeed planned it that way (which, in fairness, she didn’t).

      It’s got all the makings of one of Grim’s fairy tales, only that the darkness of the situation seems to persist beyond the tale, given that the maiden and the minstrel awaken every century to enact their revenge. I also love the closing lines. Appropriately chilling.

      Well done!

      1. Thank you so, so much for your review, and especially for comparing my story to those of the Gebrüder Grimm! I feel very honored that it made you think/feel like that, even more so since I am German myself and grew up with their fairy tales.

        So, thanks a lot!

    3. “And it’s all thanks to your jealous Great Great Grandmother that you live in fear now. How does it feel?”

      Me: “Traumatizing.”😀

      I like that you went with a fairytale format. It makes it very unique among the other stories here. Plus it seemed to be a happy ending for the Witch Queen anyway since she was able to find love and make descendants.

      1. Haha, thank you so much for the review!

        And I greatly enjoyed writing a fairy tale. When it fits the prompt, I might do that again.

  17. Peace At The End

    By Joe

    The relief of the world’s end was a magnificent feeling. All the clamor of the world’s plight and vile vexations were finally silenced. No more explosions or gunfire. No more screaming, arguing, or intrusive dark thoughts to guilt one’s conscience for not acting on primal impulses. No more wondering if the right thing was done, only what is left to do.

    Lie down outside and accept my punishment.

    Have you ever known true silence? An inaudible void so deafening that it’s like blindness. No awareness of your surroundings. The brain usually makes its own sound to prevent hallucinations, but I wasn’t allowed that.

    After the ritual, there was no sound left in the universe, and I was the only one who would ever know it.

    Space has no sound, but if it did, we would all die from its volume. Even if there was there’s only two bodies left, Earth and the Sun. There are no stars or nebulas to illuminate the night when the sun goes down. Only blindness and complete sensory deprivation. I eventually lose the sense of touch over time because there is nothing to do. Even if I was hungry I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, because I am now deprived of all sense and purpose.

    This is what true Nihilism is. Nothing! Nothing exists anymore.

    It was three days since the ritual. What’s left will be gone when the Earth rotates one more time. A time that I will know as punishment for my crime of ending the universe. And it will continue beyond death. A death I won’t ever know I had because I can’t hear Mortality’s clock ticking away.

    The cloudless sky showed the darkness pushing the light to the other side of the planet, where the sun will die. I turn my head to a wall of pure darkness creeping closer from a mile away.

    My last feeling is the fear aiding an excitement and the quietest laugh.

    Finally, with this ritual, my troubled mind attained peace.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Your language here was very poetic. What is that about nihilism and lyricism so often walking hand in hand, I wonder?

      Anyway, I love how the first sentence both presents our narrator in almost all we have to know about him, shows us what the story is going to be about, and hooks us immediately. That was a very powerful first sentence. And the follow-up does not drop the ball – all the imagery built and all the discussion that grows from it is gripping and thought-provoking.

      So, on this regard, I can’t really say anything more than that it is an amazing ride (thought a ride to nothing). A greatly paved road, for a very interesting discussion in the company of amazing vistas.

      The thing I find a bit strange (thought that’s not a problem with the writing, just a strange impression) is how it seems like the narrator has at once achieved true nihilism (the way some things are described remind me of what was once called Russian fatalism) and is on the edge of attaining it (just a few moments more, when the darkness engulf them… for now, there is still a modicum of fear). It is an interesting juxtaposition.

      Great story! (Thought I’d argue – not with you, but with the narrator – that true nihilism does not have a need for the in-existence of all… though I guess the narrator’s way of seeing it is that they gifted nihilism to those that weren’t capable or prepared for it). But enough with the discussion, here’s my like.

      1. Wow. I just looked up what Russian fatalism is, and it applies a lot.

        Thank you for the read and the new info.

    2. When there’s no more grass to touch.

      There’s a scene in Waterworld, where a guy who’s forced to live, basically, inside an oil tank (to monitor the level) dies when a torch is thrown in and his last words are “oh thank god.” And I feel like this has very similar vibes.

      All I can really say is, if you were really nihilistic, you didnt have to take the whole universe down with you, bro.

      1. I know right. What an a$$hole!

    3. Depressing attitude. Destroying the universe just to get some firkin rest.

      But also considering some of the horrible nights I’ve had thanks to illness, anxiety, and sundry mental issues, I can sort of understand the feeling.

      I have thought of a grimdark punishment – they don’t end with the universe. They just… keep going. Aware. Unable to rest. Just in soundless darkness forever.

  18. Haelamon Avatar
    Haelamon

    Final Sunset
    by Haelamon

    Freedom is a curious thing. One with so many definitions that it’s almost pointless to discuss. Is it a right to move freely? Is it an ability to do whatever you want? Freedom from interference? I don’t know, despite all the pondering I’ve done.

    I did a simple crime. Which I’ve pondered yet still disagree with the sentencing.

    I watched. I watched things die, knowing it would happen. All I did was nothing, so I was sealed.

    In this little orb. Tawny hues with gilded edges. A great consolidation for eternal imprisonment I dare say. Well… I thought it was eternal.

    While it has been an amazing time lacking any ability but talking to the wielder of this orb, people mistaking me for a fount of eldritch knowledge… I think I got a few dozen killed by poor advice… Or hundreds.

    I can’t see anything, feel anything, hear anything, only talk, but… This orb that I’m trapped in is rusting. It’s decaying. It’s crumpling under your harsh hold and I can feel it. So nice to feel it, even if I know death is slowly walking closer.

    But as the feelings increase, I can feel the heat of your hand, the heat of the sun. I think it’s the sun? I hope it is. Please let it be the sun I feel, for I miss it so. Oh to be beneath the sun once more as this eternal torment comes to an end.

    Is the world growing cooler after only recently gaining heat? Is the sun setting as this metal trap falls to pieces? Well isn’t that some timing.

    I wonder how the Unnamed is doing? They’re the one who sealed me if you were curious… No? Fair enough, ‘tis but a blip in the long history I’ve existed. A billion sunsets I have likely experienced without witnessing. Yet I can at least feel this last one.

    Please leave me alone with the sun for this last time. And if I’m still musing to myself after it sets, or even as it crosses the horizon… Smash the orb.

    1. I really liked this one a lot. You already got me right at the start with the musing about freedom; since that’s something I wonder about every once in a while as well.
      Also, it makes me curious, I wanna know more. Who or what is that which is imprisoned? And why? And why do they apparently wanna die? So many questions…

      You see, you did a really good job. Thank you for writing and sharing this piece!

      1. Haelamon Avatar
        Haelamon

        Word count is the name of the game. If ya want more info and come back to this I’ll likely answer in a day.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I’ve already seen your comment where you mentioned the word count, but I’ll say it anyway: this story is quite interesting, but I can’t avoid the feeling that a longer version would give you the time to really take it to new heights and to make a very interesting use of this narrator, this style of narration, and the discussions one that can only muse and talk do now that it feels the end (and, strangely, the sun warmth).

      The whole thing at the beginning, talking about freedom and then saying the sentencing to the orb was due to not acting when one could, makes me feel ambivalent about the narrator. Which is not a bad thing at all. It just feels as if that wise orb is certainly a self-serving jerk, and the way it muses on things is a little bit skewed. Which is a great way of introducing said artifact. I would really like to see more of it.

      Great tale!

      PS.: Also, it feels so fitting that the last thing the narrator ask is for the orb to be smashed, and knowing that is not in their power… such as it was in their power to save those that died while they watched, but they chose otherwise. Maybe the holder will also choose otherwise. We don’t know. But it is very fitting.

    3. This was really nice to read, the proses flowed nicely. It was a great twist of expectations to slowly reveal that the pov character really is a eldritch being, instead of just a regular guy, even if the eldritch being is still pretty normal all things considered. The only critique I have is that the first half feels pretty demure compared to the second, but if anything I think that just shows how strong the second half is.

    4. Flamekin Avatar
      Flamekin

      This is really good! In the context of the story it feels like this is MC rambling to whoever may be listening, and it may have been said many times before or after this, I agree with the comments before me, wanting to know more (despite the word count) and to hear more from this character.
      I would definitely read more of this story!

    5. The nature of freedom is a neat opening, but the narrator’s selfish musings are what really seal this one for me. I think them being in this orb for so long and still holding onto that attitude is a good way to show how self-centered they are. Now I’m just curious what ancient beings this guy watched die.

    6. I feel very bad for this character. They seem like a prophet that could see the future, but knew they could do nothing to stop it. That’s very understandable. And yet they received such a harsh punishment.

      The only time they could speak would be when they’re held by their new holder, and often times their holder would die, and they’d have to wait for someone else to pick them up again.

      It seems freeing in a way that the orb rusts and gives their senses back little by little. It seems like when the orb completely rusts away they would be free. But due to the many deaths they could not prevent and witnessed, and probably believe they’re at fault for, they’d rather die. But them being suicidal could be because their punishment was basically solitary confinement.

      And it does not help that they had so much time to contemplate the meaning of freedom.

      Freedom has such a broad application to everything. They’re free from moving freely, but free from choice and autonomy. They’re free to ponder for as long as the orb is intact. Outside the orb they’d be free to move freely, but are not free from lifes pain as it freely harms them. They’re free from responsibility, and now they want to be free from life.

      Is freedom even freedom when their not free from their foresight, witnessing death and the punishment of solitary confinement from everyone else? Wouldn’t it be the same outside the orb, that they would be shunned, grow numb to the pain and crave death?

      This is getting darker the more I think about it. So howzabout a free LIKE freely given to you?

  19. Are You Not Entertained? (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By Makokam

    The windows were very small, and very high up. But they were big enough for the sun to poke through, and that was enough for Berri to guess the time.

    Honestly though, as she sat in her cell, watching the sunbeams slowly move across the wall, there was only one time that mattered: Sundown.

    She’d only been here for a few days, but it was enough to know what would happen. She’d only been put into the arena twice so far, but she got lucky. Her first opponent had tried to escape and things had gotten…messy. So she’d been tossed back in her cell while they cleaned up and then they just brought out the next match.

    She was lucky that they wanted a show as much as bloodshed.

    There wasn’t any fun when your top fighter rips apart a terrified first timer. Well, not as much. To most people.

    Her second time in the arena was against another first timer. They’d been far more scared of being punished for not fighting, than fighting her, and had attacked her without much hesitation. She’d defended herself, of course, and… She didn’t think she killed her opponent. So she was alive to see another night, and another fight.

    Only now she was sure she was going to be fighting someone else who’d survived a fight. Someone who probably killed someone. Someone who probably wouldn’t have a problem doing it again.

    What if they put her against one of the psychos that enjoyed this? She really didn’t want to fight the bunny girl. There were bigger, meaner looking ones, sure, but that one… Her mind was gone. Just stared straight ahead until they threw her into the arena to tear someone apart.

    Berri didn’t want to die, especially not here, but she didn’t want to turn into that either.

    She went rigid when she heard the hall door open, and people enter.

    “So, who’s first?”

    “The lizard boy and the goat.” Papers shuffled “Then the two catgirls.”

    Berri shrank into the corner as they laughed.

    1. Awww this one hurts my soul. I think it comes across pretty brutal by default, because you do anvery good job of letting us know the kind of person Berri is, especially in that line where she admits that she doesn’t want to die, but she doesn’t want to lose herself surviving either. But it’s so much worse when you’re familiar with the character.

      You did a great job getting that dread throughout the entire piece and it does make sense. They probably would start her against other newbies and put her against more established people as she proves herself. It’s just unfortunate to see Berri here to begin with.

      This is a very intense read and a great take on the prompt. Well done!

      1. Thank you!

        I realized after the fact that knowing Berri is a catgirl is actually kind of important to this plot. lol But I’m glad you think it works even without knowing her at all.

        I’m really happy you think I did a good job of building dread. It’s kind of essential to the prompt but I wasn’t sure if that really came through.

    2. Oh goodness.

      I sure hope she makes it out with a daring escape.

      I like the mental conflict between dying and losing yourself through constant gladiatorial combat. At the same time, I really favor the thought that maybe Berri and Bunny become friends. That Berri reawakens something in Bunny to get her to care again, and have to constantly go through trial after trial to realign Bunny’s moral compass.

      This was good.

      Now I swing heavy battle axe to destroy like button.

      1. Well, I’ve got good news for you!

        She does make it out alive, but not through her own actions.

        Berri and Bunny becoming friends does seem like a fun plot point, but I think it would undermine the tragedy of it…
        Maybe it could be an AU though.

        And don’t destroy the like button! Other people need to hit it!

    3. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      You were right. This is sad. The last line is a complete gut punch. Love the take of the prompt though.

      1. Thank you thank you!

        I wanted to put a bit more into the ending, but didn’t have enough words. So I’m really glad it works anyway.

    4. Oof. Like, we know she gets out and finds better company, but… OOF.

      Setting up the arena situation shows us some incremental dread, as well as that good old angst juice. We can tell what the environment is like, what the punishments are for those who refuse. We KNOW that Berri has no choice.

      I can’t recall if we’ve seen her escape this, alas. If not, then it’s something to have in line for another prompt.

      1. Thank you muchly!

        This is the earliest we’ve seen Berri, not counting flashbacks. (If we do count Flashbacks, then this is the SECOND earliest we see her.)

        I’d love to write the scene where she gets out, but I don’t know when that opportunity will come.

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

      Ooooof you weren’t kidding about the Berri trauma. I was expecting something with her parents…I’m not sure if this is more or less sad, but it’s definitely more intense than I was expecting. I knew Berri went through some crap, but this really puts her past and character into perspective, and makes me so glad she found Jon.

      I’m guessing this is fights set between animal-people (I forget your cool name for them) kinda like dog fights today? Which, if so, makes it all that much more scummy and awful.
      And unfortunately makes *so* much more sense why she would want to hide that fact about herself.

      “The windows were very small, and very high up. But they were big enough for the sun to poke through, and that was enough for Berri to guess the time.”
      –Just from the first line you know things are real bad–if she only can guess the time through a small window.

      “there was only one time that mattered: Sundown.”
      –A very powerful and intriguing take on the prompt

      That is rather lucky if your opponent doesn’t fight you and tries to escape instead. Well…lucky for you…But also shows the horror that things get “messy” when you try.

      “She was lucky that they wanted a show as much as bloodshed.
      There wasn’t any fun when your top fighter rips apart a terrified first timer. Well, not as much. To most people.”
      –This is really interesting and makes sense. I like the choppy, qualifying “Well not as much. To most people.” showing that it really provides little comfort/is just barely true.

      “She didn’t think she killed her opponent.”
      –This seems more like she’s trying to convince herself than for-sure fact…

      “So she was alive to see another night, and another fight.”
      –I like the rhyme

      “Only now she was sure she was going to be fighting someone else who’d survived a fight. Someone who probably killed someone. Someone who probably wouldn’t have a problem doing it again.”
      –I like this paragraph. Really makes you feel Berri’s dread.

      It’s really interesting that the Bunny girl, who you might think would be more tame, is the most terrifying one to her. Really shows how something like this could really tear someone apart, not just physically. I also like your description of the fact that she’s not the biggest, but her mind is just gone. Also shows what this could do to a person.

      “Berri didn’t want to die, especially not here, but she didn’t want to turn into that either.”
      –Also really makes you feel her dread, and shows just how badly she’s between a rock and a hard place.

      Interesting she’s pitted against another catgirl. I wonder if that would make the fight easier or harder.

      “Berri shrank into the corner as they laughed.”
      –What a powerful, gutwrenching last line. It really conjures a catlike image. It reminds me of that line from Narnia “get treated like a dumb animal long enough…that’s what you become.”
      And the fact that they laugh is what really drives the knife into the heart. It’s one thing to simply dread the fight, but to directly hear they’re pleasure as the final line is an especially terrible thing.

      Great and gutwrenching job!!

      1. Thank you so much!

        This is only small part of what she’s gone through, unfortunately. I said she’d blacked out a lot of her past life, and I’m committed to justifying that. :\

        These ARE all fights between animal people. (“Therianthropes” or “Therians” as I’ve taken to calling them.) And yes, it’s exactly that scummy. Captured, contained, and forced to fight to the death.

        I’ll reply to all the quoted pieces at a later time.

        The most important thing to remember about this, especially in regard to the bunny girl, is that these are not animals turned into humans. This is not Judy Hopps ripping wolves apart. These are people. People who have animal features, yes, but still very much human.

        And pitting the two catgirls against each other, intentional or not, was funny because it was a “cat fight”.
        Not sure how that’s going to go, honestly. Aside from the fact that Berri lives.

    6. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      This story is interesting due to its contrast from the alternate timeline explored in your more cheerful stories where Berri is with Johnathan’s family. Here she is imprisoned in what I assume is an alternate fate in the main timeline. I do end up wondering if the whole prison cell and arena fights are part of some underground mafia run setup, or if in the main timeline anthropomorphic characters like Berri and just seen as sub-human and imprisoned and used for entertaining fights for the larger public like some televised Roman gladiatorial arena.

      Either way this is an interesting window into Berri’s life at this point. You do a good job exploring the horror of this. The fear of death. The fear of losing one’s mind to savagery. It’s also interesting that its the “bunny girl” who is really dangerous when rabbits are usually seen as so harmless in general. It’s also interesting that the final point of the story shows Berri being put up against one of her own kind specifically for the audience’s entertainment which adds an additional level of horror for Berri. All in all good work!

      1. Thank you!

        I really should get back to that “Happy Family” AU. (I should get back to a lot of things.) Funny story though. This would have happened to her in that timeline as well.
        Because yes, there are more than enough people who think therianthropes are subhuman to keep this underground fight pit running.
        They aren’t televised though. Streamed (at like, 240p), possibly, but not televised.

        The thing to remember, is that Berri, despite the ears, tail, and fur, is human. Just like all the others. So just because the one has bunny ears doesn’t make her less capable. They’re just unfortunate (Since they landed her here) aesthetics on a super-powered individual.
        So… yeah. It’s a pretty horrific thing to be experiencing.

        Thanks for reading and commenting!

  20. Cromillea Avatar
    Cromillea

    Soulfire (Dawn Collection)
    By Cromillea

    Over the years, Lucian had left many stone prayer tags to burden branches along the mountain, yet after the war, his wishes were buried among much more. In the clearings, groups of torches burned soulfire, connecting the living to their dead. Lucian looked for the ones marked Elena and Zoran.

    He found them burning blue and purple alongside their fallen comrades. He bowed before the flames and said, “my dearest friends, I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. Each time I come up this mountain, I feel the weight of more souls pulling me back down. So many have died on my orders. I still hear them calling after every ceremony. Please tell those spirits that they don’t have to fight anymore, the Shadow Master is dead, I killed him.”

    To prove the feat, he laid the Shadow’s crown down before the torches. It was crushed and melted, which satisfied many soul flames. Some were extinguished and their smoke was carried away into the sunset. It got much darker, and Lucian hid himself in the middle of the remaining flames.

    “Those of us left still have to remind ourselves that the battle is over, but we can’t help fearing the dark,” he said.

    Elena and Zoran remained, burning brightly with anticipation. The dead had nothing left to fear; they were only waiting to hear about the daughter they left behind.

    “I have watched over Dawn, as promised,” Lucian assured them. “She’s been getting into a lot of scraps and she always yells at me, but I’m patient. I lost more than I could ever say, so I understand.”

    Gazing out on the sunset, Lucian musingly said, “the sun will rise another day as it always has and always will. I hold onto the belief that past her grief, a new life is waiting for us to share.”

    At twilight, he at last gathered his things and gave his farewells. “Thank you for your sacrifices,” he said. “Now all I ask is that you rest. Let there be peace in the dark.”

    And then there was darkness.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      And this universe keeps expanding! Such an interesting concept this communication with the dead is! And more, knowing when they are satisfied with the matters they left in the hands of the leaving… This makes the relationship between those gone and those left behind a lot more complicated. I’d love to see more of that.

      I love how you can at once give us elements to see how this universe works, and at the same time presents the depths of each character. the Sunrise King is a heavier character now than when we first saw him in that dance (and this weight gives a lot of meaning to that dance then); Dawn’s story is a lot more complicated with each new story.

      And I’m left to wonder on who was the Shadow Master and what were its intentions. So much is there still to explore!

      Also, that last line was amazing. At once, a bit terrifying, but also so satisfying to see that Elena and Zoran accepted the request to rest… That was a very surprising way of painting darkness as relief. Amazing tale!

      1. Cromillea Avatar
        Cromillea

        I’ve heard again that the last line left quite an impact! Short and sweet does the trick there, along with a layered meaning.

        I’m glad that these characters are becoming more rounded out too. They each have an interesting history that drives them. In this tale I reaveal a bit of the aftermath of an event that has motivated Dawn and her father.

        In this case I got a cool world building idea in a short sentence, then I ran with it. Next thing you know, I’ve discovered a lot more about these characters.

        Hooray for discovery writing, and thank you for your insight!

    2. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      It made me happy to see the name Lucian immediately pop up again, since I very much enjoyed your entry from last week.

      My praise is mostly the same as your previous entry. I like the subtle but clear worldbuilding, never too much detail, it always just flows naturally and gives the reader enough intrigue to place themselves in your world; I felt as though I was sitting next to Lucian on that mountainside. You really know how to paint a scene with your words. Well done.

      1. Cromillea Avatar
        Cromillea

        I’m glad to hear that my characters and writing style left a good impression on you. We’re both exploring this world together as it develops, I always look forwards to creating more places and relationship dynamics.

        Thanks for the feedback!

  21. sunrise

    By Galer

    Eduardo was visiting the night fair, this was a common thing for children of the night. Like him, all the people that played during the day were asleep vampires like him and his family visited places during the night.

    Most commonly these were days in which they made a trip to the city of Panama at night, just to kill time but tonight there was the night fair.

    They were established once their people started to be recognized as human beings and not monsters: A place of entertainment for the creatures that wandered in the night, it was fun, and bone marrow candies from cow bones were sweet, they were his favorite thread.

    and the games! The games were entertaining! if a little terrifying like the bungee trampoline, but It was overall very fun.

    However, the sun was rising and he felt sudden anxiety. He didn’t want to leave this place, it was entertaining for him.

    “Father, can we please not go?” Eduardo said the only answer was a pat on the head by a pale hand.

    “son I get it, but-” he Yawned” Is going to get late for me and I need to do my job the next night”

    ” what happens if I don’t return here?”Eduardo said with anxiety, “it is a fun place”

    “Don’t worry about it, perhaps once per month but they will still be here and besides,” his father said while pointing at Eduardo’s chest” you have fun and that is what matters the most”.

    These words echoed in the child’s head making him eventually relent. He got into the car with his father and drove into the horizon as the sunrise set in.

    an adult Eduardo was looking at the night fair. It changed over time as he did, but it was still a fun place to get his children to unwind just like his father did for him. rest his soul. He saw one of his children get anxious, there it was the sunrise again like an old friend.

    And Eduardo just smiled.

  22. vellichorian Avatar
    vellichorian

    Every Night Since
    by vellichorian

    I glance over my shoulder at the glow illuminating the hazy clouds. The tempo of my stride increases. Not to a run, but with more purpose than before. Rushing doesn’t get me home faster if I trip and twist my ankle. Just like Mama said, “Take your time and do it right.”

    My thoughts wander to childhood memories of playing hide and seek in the golden hour. Catching a lightning bug and watching my skin glow with the pulse of its abdomen, feeling the tickle as it crept across my fingers, and hearing the squeals of my siblings as they chased each other back to base. Begging Mama to stay out just a little later to wish on the stars. Just like Mama said, “Cherish your joy.”

    When I crest the final hill, home awaits. Another peek at the sky snaps my thoughts back to the present, recalling the twilight checklist like a litany:

    Perimeter…clear

    Cameras…on

    Gate…latched

    Chickens…confined

    Garden net…tethered

    Door…barred

    Shades…drawn

    Lamps…dimmed

    Monitor…on

    Alarm…armed

    Deliberate steps carry me through the ritual. I finish as the last dingy light fades. I settle at the monitor with my can of cold beans and half a Twinkie to keep watch. The first hour after sunset is the most active. Just like Mama said, “Routine creates security.”

    I see motion and stare, but it’s only the three-eyed racoon looking for scraps. I know I shouldn’t feed it, but I like the company. Something large lumbers by and tests the fence. A bear, maybe? Still no threats. The blankets on my pallet invite me. But not yet. Just like Mama said, “Complacency is the real enemy.”

    And then I notice it! I hold my breath as I extinguish the lantern with one hand and hoist my emergency pack to my back with the other. One foot moves to the latch in the floorboard. A fluid motion, choreographed to complete efficiency. I squint as the drones blink in the distance, waiting to see if they approach. Just like Mama said, “Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.”

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Well, I’m not sure what exactly we are following in this story, though the overall premise is clear. This world has changed, and there are some very dangerous things lurking around. And although the world has changed, some small bits of wisdom of the past keep being relevant – perhaps more relevant than ever.

      It is very interesting to see that format – a memory of play turns to an advice, and gives a bit of levity to the sequence of precautions echoed by the mother’s sayings. that reverberation is really powerful.

      That was a very interesting format to deal with, and a very beautifully written tale. Great work here!

      1. vellichorian Avatar
        vellichorian

        That’s exactly what I was trying to convey. The actual disaster doesn’t really matter as much as the narrator’s tools for survival. Thank you for the compliments!

    2. Was it Freddy Fazbear?

      Seriously though, I’ve gotten very attached to the idea that whatever monster lurking is never revealed. Whenever a monster is revealed nowadays it fails to meet expectations. I don’t blame people much because it’s hard to make a monster look or act so horrifying that you never want to see it again, or you just want to keep looking at it with piqued interest. Either that or they’re just bad at writing.

      But this manages to keep the senses heightened with urgency. From the sun going down, to the checklist, and the memories of Mother’s instructions to survival. That last one especially sells it, not only as a quirk, but also a plot driver.

      The pacing and purpose, like the character’s responsibilities, were perfectly placed. Especially with how the checklist is written. It makes the story more eye-catching when words are placed differently. Instead of a typical paragraph, it’s almost literally a checklist. It’s a small thing but it makes the reader wonder what is happening here.

      And what happened here was mystery, but a good one nonetheless. Good job!

      1. vellichorian Avatar
        vellichorian

        LOL…Maybe?

        But I agree with you. Not revealing the monster, or revealing it one peek at a time, seems to build so much more tension than an instant reveal. And the danger in that is an eventual reveal falling short of what was teased (like in the movie Signs). Luckily, I felt like this story didn’t require the reveal. 😉

        Thanks for the compliments!

  23. Sun’s going down…
    By VTRwriter

    What a crazy situation for a fairy to be in.

    A vampire bit me not long ago, and therefore, I owe loyalty to him. But he ate something of mine without permission, so he owes loyalty to me. And worse, our designated lawyer said that “technically” we are married!

    So I had to move from my comfy forest to this big castle. I hate this place, so big and cold. Why do vampires like castles anyway? Is it because they’re bats and therefore like caves? There’s plenty of caves where I lived. And he would pay no taxes for it.

    But that’s not what worries me now. It’s my first full moon since I became a vampire. I heard it’s the worst time for new vampires. And we’re so near a city. What if someone gets harmed? A human, an elf, a fairy, or worse, a tree? Will I feel pain? What will happen next? What about the next full moon?

    I’m nervous. Sun’s going down… And I… I feel…

    I woke up dizzy and slowly, trying to regain my senses. A feeling of floatiness surrounded my body, like being in water, or…

    A bathtub? Why am I in a bathtub? Is this blood? It smells like it, but also… Ketchup? And… Is there a naked guy on the floor? Oh no, he’s not dead, is he?

    Oh, he snored! Thank heavens. My chest was going… Wait, a tattoo on my chest? Since when do I…

    “Hello, honey!” My husband was in the bathroom doorway, wearing a sombrero and the fakiest mustache ever.

    “What did I do last night?” I asked, trying to not panic.

    “You did amazing! I’m so proud of you! Come, dinner is ready. Oh, don’t mind Mina in the closet, just go downstairs”

    Oh my…

    1. I remember this quandry from Tumblr. Faerie rules versus vampire rules. Hospitality versus thralldom and so on. I love that you made it an official marriage. That’s a cool new twist.

      Meanwhile: Mina? Harker? Amazing how she turns up a lot in vampiric tales.

      I would like to know what’s up with the fluid in the bathtub. Or what went on after the sun went down.

      Something for your next story, mayhaps.

  24. Norman Gray Avatar
    Norman Gray

    Forsaken
    By Norman Gray

    I was born in a tomb; my body cloaked in cloth bandage, wrapped tight enough to suffocate. . . Cursed. I had been banished from Ra’s light, my flesh burning at his touch.

    At first, I showed mercy. But the hunger was overwhelming. When villagers started disappearing, few would venture outside alone at night, and I could not pursue uninvited into their homes.

    I began building a monument. They saw the carved rock and grew fearful of what transpired when Ra was not watching.

    My strength was immeasurable. I broke apart the stones, and one by one I lifted the immense blocks, hoping my creation would appease Ra. When it was complete, I stood atop the summit at dawn, begging for forgiveness, awaiting his judgement. I felt his warmth. . .

    Then, I burned. I tumbled down as my flesh caught fire, taking refuge in the shadow of my creation, retreating within its walls.

    I grew angry. Vengeful. I sought answers from Ra, sought to understand the nature of his rebirth. . . And to stop him. To make the world live in darkness, as I did.

    As the last of his light grew dim, I set aside my mercy. I fed upon the village; the elders, the children. All of them. I engorged myself, then began pursuit. The sand turned to glass beneath my stride. Ocean waves became vapor.

    Ra did not perish; he retreated. I chased that sliver of light over the horizon, drawing out the night. But still I wasn’t quick enough. Always impossibly far away, as if he knew he was being followed. . .

    Then the Great Pyramid returned over the horizon, and I began to understand.

    Such a fool I’d been, millennia ago. The sunlight never cared about my remorse. But I was cured, in a way. I have long since forgotten my humanity; the bloodlust is a gift, not a curse. Now I have a new monument. . . Atop a tower of concrete and glass, in a metropolis that never sleeps, I cull the human race as they grow fat and weak.

    1. Flamekin Avatar
      Flamekin

      I love the idea, and I definitely wasn’t expecting a vampire story with this prompt! I needed to reread the second half a couple times to make sure I understood what was happening, and I still don’t think I really understand the last paragraph, what the monument is, and how our MC arrived at how their bloodlust is a gift. Could you shed some light on that for me? (pun totally intended)
      Overall, I really enjoyed it! Good job!

      1. Norman Gray Avatar
        Norman Gray

        It’s always a challenge for me to walk that line between telling too much, and not enough. I think my stories often end up a bit vague because I’m constantly afraid of ‘spelling things out’ for the reader and making it too obvious.

        He builds the Great Pyramid with his own two hands, purely as a gift to the sun God, in an attempt to appease Ra; his affliction leaves him to assume that it was Ra that turned him into a vampire, being an ancient Egyptian who worshipped the sun and is now forced out of the daylight. I was also playing with the idea that he is one of, if not the first vampire, and so he has no understanding of what he is, no prior knowledge of vampires.

        As a vampire he has tremendous strength and speed, and sets to chasing after the sun on foot. He is almost fast to keep up with daylight, but not quite, and in his chase he circles the globe, not realizing he’s done so until he sees the Great Pyramid again.

        In the end he accepts his fate and understands that he will never be human again. He lives as a vampire until modern times, losing all remnants of his humanity.

        I envisioned him becoming the closest real-world equivalent to a vampire: a power hungry corporate CEO. Using commerce for conquest, helping bring forth a world of artificial light so that there will always be people awake at night, wandering the streets so that he never has to go hungry. Creating a system for humans to become dependant on, so that they forget how to hunt, forget most of their survival instincts, shaping people into an easier prey.

    2. Cromillea Avatar
      Cromillea

      Wow, that’s pretty scary, and cool. I did interpret this as a myth, but I thought it was about some mumified creature. I don’t blame you, sometimes things go over my head, so I missed the vampire angle lol.

      I like reading the modern tellings of myths and the creations of new myths. This had such an interesting flow and narration to it. I love the imagery of his rage melting sand, and the impact his monuments have on humanity, ancient and modern.

      This was a creative spin on vampire mythos and tying it to Egyptian mythology was a treat!

      1. Norman Gray Avatar
        Norman Gray

        He was mummified. I was playing around with the idea that an undead Mummy could also be a Vampire.

  25. 7ANKOUCH Avatar
    7ANKOUCH

    Qutros
    By 7ANKOUCH

    “The police is still investigating yesterday’s horrible accident …” police station’s guards radio .

    One of the guards quickly turned the radio off when a man wearing an elegant black suit , probably in his fourties approached the cell they were guarding .

    “He’s here ?” the man asked while getting near the bars to take a good look at the faint silhouette sitting at the far end of the cell .

    “Sir! , be caref~”

    The guards backed away as the shadowy figure moved
    with an inhuman speed towards the bars , but was stopped inches away from it . And now that he is in the light it seems that he is all chained up to the wall . A pale slender teenager with yellow-dog like eyes .

    “Yahhh! You did not even flinch ey ! Who are you ? I dont get many visitors around here.”the prisoner asked.

    “Federal Agent Mark . You are responsible of the death of 4 people yesterday , Qutros”

    “Eh ? Qu what !? And yes i did kill them . Don’t let my looks fool you
    , Come after sunset and you’ll be surprised”the prisoner answered.

    “Qutros , an Arabian mythical creature , half canine half human . It is what we call you because what happens to you after sunset and thats why i am here”mark said

    “Got a nice ring to it … so , why are you here ?”

    “We want you to cooperate , and in exchange you get out of here . What do you say ?”

    “I’ll do anything to get out of these shakles . They’re bugging me”

  26. Different Decisions

    By: Hastaw

    I hate the sun, but I also hate the dark. The stars do nothing. They are ice cubes compared to the sun. They are beautiful, by far the most dazzling things in the sky. But what lies beneath these sky diamonds is even more sinister.

    The curling of the brown earth is the first thing. The rumbling reminds me of my stomach. The smell of fresh air, like I had my first breath. My lungs are in a desert all day, dry and hot. The night falls, and they drink a long and frozen breath.

    The brushing of an invisible monster against the trees almost topples them with its massive wings. I feel it brushing past me; maybe there’s a herd of them.

    When the sun sets, there are dangers: insect bites, predators, people stealing food, and in rare cases, other people. I desperately want to enjoy my nighttime vigor, avoiding the responsibilities and suffocation during the day.

    The light shines bright in the dark. The day seems rather dull. The well-lit scenery, the constant smiles, the chaotic colors, and the smells feel claustrophobic. I prefer to hide in the shadows; the light is gentler there.

    The sound doesn’t help either. With every sound, I feel my voice dying inside. People stare at me, telling me that talking to myself is too much. They don’t want to listen.

    When the sun sets, quiet ensues. You hear everything. You see everything clear as the day might to some people. Everything has a tint in darkened hues and brilliant blues.

    When the sun lowers, everything is calm, well worth the dangers that may befall me. I still miss my home, but a perpetual night is most comfortable.

  27. LanaMae Avatar
    LanaMae

    Her least favorite sunset
    By LanaMae.

    It is almost sunset ,she is terrified. The human male next to her is an excellent example of the species they designed to inhabit this solar system. He’s tall and muscular. Copper hair and gorgeous teal eyes.

    They spent the day cuddling on the beach just kissing and enjoying one another’s company. She truly hopes he will come with her, to her home world, to be her pet and mate.

    Every 60 years she’s allowed to bring home one pet from a planet they are helping evolve. She’s been lonely for awhile now. Never really wanted a pet.

    Sunset is drawing near, and she can hear her people in orbit telling her it’s time.

    She’s terrified, afraid he will reject her and flee when her true form is revealed. Standing before him , the woman holds out a hand to help him stand.

    She tells him, the truth about herself and her origins, as well as why she is here, then as the sun dips lower, the woman shows her true form. The man looks stunned but he doesn’t run, at first.

    Once the initial shock wore off he ran , yelling about aliens. She was so heartbroken. But wanted to give him another chance. Using her abilities she picked him up and put him, on his knees before her .

    “I want you to come home with me, be my pet, mate with me and be cherished until your time comes to be born into a new being. Will you be mine? ” She asked.

    She then released him from the hold she had him under, he screamed again about aliens, this time when he ran her heart broke, but she did what she had to do, he was instantly vaporized and her people took her back home.

    She never really got over that one, he might have been the one, he will be reborn, she hopes his next life will be on her planet, so they can be together and travel the universe as one.

  28. Zebaeda (Exile Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    There are many cities in the Exile, a countless number in fact, which harbour an uncountable amount of inhabitants.

    Of these cities, Zebaeda is perhaps the brightest. Made entirely of glass and marble, it stands tall on a hill, of burning coal. Its gaze alone is bright enough to extinguish someone’s pupils, leaving them blind forever. In fact, the imps and goblins of the nearby villages frequently force their prisoners to look into the city so they lose the ability to see.

    The inhabitants of this city are beings of pure, malevolent light. One wave of their hand may scorch an entire field, cause rivers to evaporate and turn soil dry. These stories are most certainly exaggerated, but it is true that the Zebaedans burned their enemies alive, if they choose to let them bathe in their light.

    They say that the sun never sets over Zebaeda. That they hogged an entire piece of the sun for themselves alone, keeping it over their city to maintain their selfish desires for more deadly light.

    That is, until Jackal came.

    They say that the light of Zebaeda would burn for eternity. That their little slice of the sun would keep their city burning forever.

    Until their sun was stolen. For the first time, the sun set over Zebaeda, showing it what night truly was and could be. And in the darkness, Jackal fled with the sun, to return it to its rightful place.

    The Zebaedans screamed, not knowing what had happened. Their terrified screams reached the villages around them, attracted scavengers like flies, in hopes of acquiring pieces of the once great power of Zebaeda for themselves. As they entered, the screams fell silent. The entire city had frozen in place, the bodies of the Zebaedans standing upright.

    The inhabitants of the surrounding villages never went back to Zebaeda. Their glee and greed extinguished by the looks of anguish on every frozen face.

    Ever since they saw the greatest power at their doorstep wiped out, the villages around fear the darkness and light their fires brighter than before, when the sun sets.

    1. LanaMae Avatar
      LanaMae

      Interesting story, I would love to read more about the inhabitants of Zebaeda, what made them be who they had become.
      Were they always toying with the beings around them? I know we have a word count though, I do hope you make it into a longer story. Looking forward to reading more from you.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      At first, this almost read like one of Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities. Then, it changes, but the whole dreamy (or nightmarish) sense maintain its strength.

      It is really interesting to see how both light and darkness can harbor horrors… and sometimes, both of them will harbor what is probably the same horrors, just changed in how they are reflected.

      That was very interesting.

    3. Cromillea Avatar
      Cromillea

      This was a wonderful look into an strange world. I love the extreme descriptions of the dazzling brilliance and brutality of light. This place and its people drew me in. I’m fascinated by this story of how they fell to ruin and looting when their light was stolen. I love the inclusion of classic fantasy creatures like goblins, who bring familiarity and fear to this world.

      Amazing work!

  29. Cromillea Avatar
    Cromillea

    Soulfire (Dawn Collection)
    By Cromillea

    Over the years, Lucian had left many stone prayer tags to burden branches along the mountain, yet after the war, his wishes were buried among much more. In the clearings, groups of torches burned soulfire, connecting the living to their dead. Lucian looked for the ones marked Elena and Zoran.

    He found them burning blue and purple alongside their fallen comrades. He bowed before the flames and said, “my dearest friends, I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. Each time I come up this mountain, I feel the weight of more souls pulling me back down. So many have died on my orders. I still hear them calling after every ceremony. Please tell those spirits that they don’t have to fight anymore, the Shadow Master is dead, I killed him.”

    To prove the feat, he laid the Shadow’s crown down before the torches. It was crushed and melted, which satisfied many soul flames. Some were extinguished and their smoke was carried away into the sunset. It got much darker, and Lucian hid himself in the middle of the remaining flames.

    “Those of us left still have to remind ourselves that the battle is over, but we can’t help fearing the dark,” he said.

    Elena and Zoran remained, burning brightly with anticipation. The dead had nothing left to fear; they were only waiting to hear about the daughter they left behind.

    “I have watched over Dawn, as promised,” Lucian assured them. “She’s been getting into a lot of scraps and she always yells at me, but I’m patient. I lost more than I could ever say, so I understand.”

    Gazing out on the sunset, Lucian musingly said, “the sun will rise another day as it always has and always will. I hold onto the belief that past her grief, a new life is waiting for us to share.”

    At twilight, he at last gathered his things and gave his farewells. “Thank you for your sacrifices,” he said. “Now all I ask is that you rest. Let there be peace in the dark.”

    And then there was darkness.

  30. Flamekin Avatar
    Flamekin

    The Dying Light
    by Flamekin

    We sat in a broken circle around the small fire, only enough to warm our hands, and boil a little water. In the scant firelight the faces of those around me were obscured by shadow and grimaces. None of us looked around, and none of us looked anywhere near the gaps in the circle where we had lain the bloodied weapons atop the empty straw sleep mats. The snow covered everything else in a thick blanket of darkness.

    My son sat near me, next to one of the empty mats, trying unsuccessfully to hide that he was crying, though none of us would ever acknowledge it.

    I had tried my best to stop him from coming with us.

    “Dad, I am coming with you on the patrol, and there isn’t anything you can do to stop me.” He had stood up straight and looked me dead in the eye. My own eyes were drawn to the scars on his forehead that proclaimed his entry into manhood, and the warrior’s rank. I knew that he was right, and so I simply said nothing. He had such light in his eyes, the fire of hope, and the determination of steel.

    That light was gone now, it had gone down with the sun. Replaced by fear and regret, I knew that it was gone forever, his fire had joined mine, and my fathers.

    I had tried to protect him, tried to keep that light alive.

    And I wept, knowing that my greatest fear was realized.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was very well told. The scene is very well built, and the whole tragedy of the situation is show in a very interesting light (could also say in its absence, considering the themes of the story). The whole thing about wanting to protect someone from their own decisions and seeing the moment some innocence is about to be lost and having no power to do so… that’s a very powerful moment to present. Better yet to present the aftermath of it, where all there is to do is hold on to the memory and the regret, even though there was nothing to do. That was greatly told. Amazing story, Flamekin!

      1. Flamekin Avatar
        Flamekin

        Thank you so much for your kindness! I appreciate it more than you can know!

  31. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
    Sprig NoRoots

    Dance By Daylight
    by Sprig NoRoots

    Sunlight paints a red so vibrant across the sky that I’m glad it will be the thing I see.
    Woodrow is what they call us, or that’s what they would have called us. We live a life in the open, in the air, but we flicker out like sparks. Flowers spread open their petals, and we pop out in puffs of pollen. My family is from the same cluster of sunflowers. In the morning, we floated together in the wind and chased bees around the field.

    As the Sun climbed, so did our delight. We danced in the Sun’s light and shared nectar from our flowers. My siblings and I ventured into the grass to play. Hairs of grass casted shadow puppets above us. Ants marched dutifully into the unknown. My brother joined their parade. That was the last time I saw him.

    As the Sun rested in the heavens, we bathed in its warmth. Our flowers flatten themselves, and we rested. My mother drank deeply of her nectar and faded. As the sun traveled on, my mother stayed still.

    As the Sun wandered home, we hid from the birds. Sparrows fluttered about us. We hid under the blooms from where we were born. My sister did not hide well.

    As the Sun prepares to sleep, we seek solace in each other. Our flowers turn to each other, and so do we. My father and I lodge on petals. We whisper what we would want if we could live another day. I wished I could have danced one more time.

    As the night consumes the light, I know this was the last I would feel my father’s embrace.

    1. LanaMae Avatar
      LanaMae

      So sad, I enjoyed it though, you have a way with words . I would like to know more about the Woodrow , they seem like a fae folk , but I am not sure if that’s what they are. I like that you use descriptive words I can literally envision dancing with them.
      Keep up the good work.

      1. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
        Sprig NoRoots

        I came up with the name a while ago but hadn’t used it for anything til now. I was picturing Woodrow as fae folk but don’t have a specific species or characteristics or anything. In this story, I was picturing them as little fairies that are born from blooming flowers but I plan on adding some stuff for the species some time down the road though.
        Thank you! I’m glad you liked it!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This was very beautiful. And the whole thing of compressing time to show a lifetime in a day is very thought-provoking. Maybe the woodrow can enjoy their time in the sun so much because they know it is fleeting; there is some bittersweetness in knowing one’s time will soon be over, but then putting that little time to use.

      And it is all the more powerful by the small moments dedicated to the losses.

      As LanaMae said, you really have a way with words. That was an incredibly interesting little tale to read. Great story, hope to read more from you.

  32. Terminal Tradition
    By Rae1347

    Wind howled mercilessly through the trees outside the cabin. Inside, an old woman’s fire was nearly out. All other light had been extinguished. The faint glow from residual embers allowed shadows to stretch and writhe eerily across the walls.

    Leaning forward in her chair, the woman concentrated on the girl who sat on the floor in front of her. Despite her aching joints, she wordlessly twisted the black mass of hair that cascaded down the girl’s shoulders. With a final pull she made the last adjustment to a large braid, twisting it and holding it in place with a single golden pin.

    Attempts to hide her nervousness were futile; nothing could stop the shaking of the girl’s hands. The layered cloth of her ceremonial dress felt as though it weighed upon her very soul. It had been tailored many moons ago to fit her perfectly, and it did.

    It fit so perfectly that its woven inner workings crushed her ribs when she walked. It fit so perfectly that her silhouette was drowned in the ornate lace decorating every inch of the flawless fabric. It fit so perfectly that the shoes selected for this night had been forged especially for her, held in place by un-moving metal clamps.

    “Time to go.”

    With a crackling of old bones, the woman rose. She picked up her withered cane made of cedar-wood, and slowly limped towards the door. The girl followed obediently. An emblem carved into the palm of her hand stung in the chilling breeze.

    Once they ventured outside, a sparse populace somberly greeted them. The girl struggled to maintain her wooden expression while townsfolk recited old scripture and sobbed their goodbyes.

    A final glimmer of evening light was snuffed out by dusk as she approached the end of the path. She could see movement within the thicket ahead, as if the very forest itself was eagerly waiting to snatch her up and swallow her whole.

    Something sharp prodded at her back, encouraging her to painfully shamble onward into the darkness.

    Quiet chanting soon faded behind her as she disappeared into the undergrowth.

    1. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
      Sprig NoRoots

      This is so good. The description conveys the mood so well. Your use of adjectives is lovely. The unnerving mood is set from the first line and held up well by the rest of the story. I especially like the comparison between making a perfect silhouette of a girl and comparing it to the horror of the following event. My only note is that I didn’t feel that the dialogue was necessary. That said that’s just personal preference. It works both ways for sure. Great story!

  33. Mango Gravy Avatar
    Mango Gravy

    Missing Bits and the End of Days
    By Mango Gravy

    Dorin wasn’t an idiot. Working on the team investigating an abandoned necromancer temple was bound to be a bizarre experience.

    “It’s rude to stare, young man.”

    And yet he was agape. His wildest expectations had been surpassed as a corpse, chained to the wall and stripped of its organs, was talking to him. Needless to say, he was stunned.

    “Yeah, kid, I know. I look like a half-eaten shish kebab. Say, while you’re gawking like a country bumpkin, tell me… how’re the old danglies doing?”

    “Umm…” Dorin glanced between the corpse’s legs. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.

    “Not lost yet. Rifle through some of those jars, I’m sure you’ll find it. It’s a big one, you’ll know it when you see it.”

    “W-wait,” Dorin sputtered.

    The corpse was silent for a moment, “Gosh darnit! Those incompetent fucks didn’t put my organs back either! I’ll need you to find those too. And plenty of blood. They keep that on the top shelf, up there.”

    “No no no.” Dorin rubbed his eyes, “When I came here I expected to see corpses, but I didn’t think I’d be TALKING TO ONE!” He exhaled loudly, “So please, PLEASE, explain how and why this is happening.”

    “Firstly, I prefer the term cadaver. And second,” the cadaver cleared its throat, “Immortality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, so I wanted help undoing it. You know, ‘Please go gently into that good night, rage against the undying light’.”

    “That’s not how the poem goes.”

    “That’s the least of my problems here, buddy. Anyway, I thought these masters of death -imagine air quotes here – could do it, but the law found them before they could figure me out.”

    “How’d you become immortal in the first place?”

    “I ate too many apples. Listen, kid. Humans aren’t meant to live this long. Most people fear the end of their lives but trust me, a day that never ends is a hell of a lot scarier. Now help put me back together so I can find someone to kill me! If you may.”

    1. “I ate too many apples” — I love that line. Like. It’s obviously horseshit, but it’s so funny at the same time because of “an apple a day”.

      I feel sorry for this immortal. Unlife has got to suck in these circumstances.

      1. Mango Gravy Avatar
        Mango Gravy

        Well, they didn’t remove his jaw so he can still keep his chin up and carry on. Thanks for reading.

    2. The comical tone of this made it immediately endearing. The banter between the cadaver and Dorin was great, and I love the snarky and joke-cracking attitude Cadaver has towards life and death. The allusions it makes to its life are interesting, but not distracting. I’d absolutely love to read more about these guys!

      1. Mango Gravy Avatar
        Mango Gravy

        I’m glad you liked the comedy. Sometimes I worry that my somewhat crass sense of humour won’t be well received.

    3. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
      Sprig NoRoots

      I love the back and forth. It’s endearing and creepy at the same time, given the circumstances. The idea of a talking corpse -I mean cadaver- is an excellent basis for a comedic story. The only thing is, I’m not sure what this has to do with the prompt. That said, I loved it.

      1. Mango Gravy Avatar
        Mango Gravy

        I tried to make it clear in his last paragraph, where he talks about a day that never ends. It’s common to refer to death as the sun setting on someone’s life, and I he cadaver fears that his metaphorical sundown will never come.
        I considered making that line a more direct reference to the prompt title but I decided against it.
        Anyway, thanks for the read. I’m glad you enjoyed.

    4. 7ANKOUCH Avatar
      7ANKOUCH

      I loved the comedy in it

      1. Mango Gravy Avatar
        Mango Gravy

        Big thank

    5. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was dead on! Ba-dum-tss

      Really, that was great. I read plenty of stories dealing with the Immortality Blues trope, but this takes the cake. The comedic tone worked very well, the shock and discrepancy with which each character takes the situation at hand sells it very well, and the whole thing flows delightfully. And there’s the whole thing about “well, and those necromancer call themselves the mighty and wise masters of death, but they couldn’t even undo a simple immortality issue”… really amazing ideas here.

      Great take on the prompt, great story overall, and all that was really well-written. Thanks a lot for sharing that!

  34. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Bleed me dry

    By Tamela Redfin

    Cora glared at her boyfriend. “Wait, so let me get this straight. You let two murder bots run free in Alder and didn’t install a tracker on either!?”

    “Ja, it would appear that way, Cora.” Augen sighed.

    “Augie, I did not hire you to sit around and play games with me.”

    “Corakins, this is serious.”

    “Not serious enough, I guess.” She snapped. “You wasted millions on Project Brimstone and Corlita herself and now this.”

    “I can find them, Cora. Just give me time.”

    Cora hung her head. “Maybe it’s time I defund you, Manfred.”

    Manfred! Well now she meant business. “Vas? You can’t do that. The lies I’ve told. The lives I’ve ruined.”

    “I’m aware. I’m also aware that you let two cyborgs run free and…”

    “If you defund me, they can save thousands! Or worse! Join a resistance.”

    She slapped him. “That’s why I gave you the trackers! Did you install them on a cypha you wanted to ‘blow the mind’ of?”

    “Me? No! Cyphas are filthy creatures. Never touch them. But we are getting off topic. I will find them as well as Cameron Fauder if it’s the last thing I do. And I have lots of clones and they only have one body.”

    “You better, or I’ll end the funding and I will end your era. Do we have a deal, Augen?” She wrote something down in a notebook.

    “Ja, just please Corakins, I am begging you. Don’t take the funding. Science is my life. Besides you. The idea that I can mold life as we know it in my hands?”

    Cora was not amused. “I know all that, Manfred. I also hold an era in my palm. The era of my reign, which will be cut short if they find out two murder bots are free. Do you understand?”

    “Ja, I understand.”

    1. This story establishes very well that Augen is a filthy liar and Cora has possession of all the brain cells in this relationship. Perhaps, if she had MORE brain cells, she would not be siding with Augen at all.

      So the prize for the most brain cells goes to…. Everyone who wants to firkin destroy Feldspar Augen! ::cheers and hoots::

      Maybe finding his cyborgs IS the last thing he does. Pleasant thought.

    2. Sprig NoRoots Avatar
      Sprig NoRoots

      This kind of back and forth gives me life. The chemistry is so much better than in most movies I’ve seen recently. I would love a full-length novel with these folks. Augen’s sass alone was giving. This is a great story, it has well written banter, and I really enjoyed reading it.

    3. The best paet of this story is fucking /Manfred/ getting cowed by someone.

      Defund the mad scientist!

      Manfred is a great example of someone being absolutely brilliant but also dumb as a bag of hammers.

      He abuses his cyborgs physically and mentally and then sends them out on a mission with no way to recall or even FIND them. And he’s /surprised/ when they don’t cone back?

      I didn’t understand the “If you defund me, they can save thousands” part though.

      And honestly I wouldn’t be surprised he put the trackers on a cypha for…one reason or another.

      And honestly I forgot Cora was just as bad as “Manfred”.

      I hope they both fall down a set of basement steps, and break their- … And die slowly at the bottom as no one cares to looks for them.

      It just reminds how how fucked your world is. Or at least this little corner of it is. I mean, my story this week was about forcing people to fight to the death but at least it’s an ILLEGAL death battle. I can’t help feeling like someone could set that up with cyphas and do it in broad daylight.

      The best part of this was definitely “Manfred” groveling.

      I hope Gildert and Corlita get far, FAR, away and are never found.

      1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
        Tamela Redfin

        Yeah, I still find it odd that Cora has a slightly better moral compass than Manfred. I mean, don’t get me wrong, evil as sin itself, but she does have someone she cares about.

        What the save thousand part means is he’s worried they will help people escape Western Rolt. The world Cora made goes like this:

        She “purifies” cities if enough people disagree with her. Aka, she murders the occupants, buries them, and rebuilds the cities for her followers. See? Neutral evil. 😀

        I do have plans for Gilbert and Corlita. I think they will be safe. I hope to connect Cameron, Gilbert, Sal and a little man named Henry, lover of the Roltian queen.

  35. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “The Fire in the Night”

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    “Ardono, the townsfolk have barricaded themselves in the church as you instructed.”

    “Good. That should offer them at least some protection from the wolves.”

    *Shink*

    Armello watched as Ardono continued to sharpen his sword with his whetstone. He stood in silence watching the sun creep toward the horizon.

    “Do you think we are giving them too much hope?” said Armello finally.

    Ardono paused his sharpening. “Do you remember that night back in Versai?”

    “How could I forget,” Armello shuddered, “a quarter of our troops were infected and became beasts devouring another quarter of our men before we were able to put them . . . to rest.”

    Ardono nodded. “Do you remember the fear you felt in those moments.”

    Armello nodded silently.

    “Fear is our enemy as much as the beasts are. Fear drives people into chaos and that only feeds the beasts. Hope is our best chance of keeping order. And keeping that order will save lives. So, we have to give them hope.”

    “Even if that hope is false hope?”

    “You disagree with our plans, Armello.”

    “I just . . . wish there was a better way.”

    “I know. I wish we could save everyone. But we have to stem the tide of slavering flesh before it spreads any further. How many more lives will be lost like in Versai if we don’t. This village will be a small sacrifice compared to the hundreds of lives in the towns and cities. We had to prepare the church as a trap. It’s the only way to get the beasts all in one place and cleanse this village with fire.”

    *Shink* Ardono returned to sharpening his sword now with more anxious and angry vigor.

    Armello stood there now watching the sun crawl below the horizon. He could hear the howls in the distance. The cold fear in the pit of his stomach only grew.

    1. I always like a good werewolf story and this prompt really lends itself well to one. I like the dread that is built up of the wolf threat, showing just why the people are afraid of the sunset. The sharpening of the sword serves as really good symbolism for the wait for sundown, the “shinks” almost like some kind of bloody clock, ticking down.

      At least, I thought the dread would be the wolves, until I got to the later paragraphs. The wolves are probably still the main threat, but it becomes very clear that they are not the real reason why Ardono dreads the sundown. Because… burning an entire town is… intense. And the howls at the end herald more than just the wolves, don’t they.

      Great piece!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That’s deliciously dark. We got beasts in the dark, but they might not be the greatest thing to fear our there – or they might just be a symptom of fear itself. And the soldiers are ready to do some very terrible things for the greater good… oh, how low can one sink for the greater good!

      Let’s just hope that it is not just fear that feeds the beasts… perhaps there are other desperate feelings that they can take nourishment from, and then… well, guess they will discover that when it is time for them to deal with.

      That was dark all the way, and the maintained consistency while unveiling more and more what is about to happen is thrilling. Great way of telling a tragic horror story.

      A small nitpick, but the first two questions in the story aren’t graphed as question (“Do you think we are giving them too much hope?” and “Do you remember that night back in Versai?”). Very, very small nitpick.

      Anyway, thrilling (‘Cause this is thriller, thriller night, and no one’s gonna save you from the beast about to strike…).

    3. “The church reaffirms that the wolves are not contagious and stem from a curse on a single village. They will be eliminated shortly.”

      Honestly, I feel like the only flaw in this plan is the planned loss of the villagers. I mean, first, if any villagers are injured and DON’T die, or perhaps before they even have a chance to die, it sounds like you’ll have more wolves. (Based on the story in the story.) Second, if your plan is to let them break into the church and then burn the church…what keeps them in the burning church? Surely they’d just run back out. Third…how much man power do you have? If it’s just the two of you maybe you wont be noticed but then I sincerely doubt you’re ability to execute this plan at all.

      Oooh! Is he a traitor? Is this plan to make more wolves?

      Anyway. Regardless of all that, this is a great, dark story. Feels like something out of a SoulsBorn game. The idea that this is two soldiers making a last stand adds a lot weight and tragedy to what otherwise could look like just a Dick Move (TM). Especially because if they fail, it sounds like a whole lot more than a single village will be lost. The whole country probably. Perhaps the world at that point.

    4. Part of me wants them to save the village, but another part of me wants the angst juice inherent in wholesale slaughter for the greater good.

      Werewolves are just freaking GREAT for angst juice of all flavours.

      A good dose of Remove Curse might be beneficial, but I get the feeling it doesn’t exist in this world.

  36. Murphy’s Law
    By Marx

    I hate the night.

    I’m not even safer during the day. But they all have such better eyesight than me. It’s so much worse when I can’t see them coming.

    “I… brought you food…”

    “Thank you, Nisha.” I force a smile as I accept the sandwich, trying not to freeze up at her voice.

    It doesn’t help.

    Nisha sees through the smile and frowns in response. “I… messed up again, didn’t I?”

    I shake my head. “No! This is good. It’s… cooked this time and everything.”

    “I got it from the grocery store you spoke of!”

    My eyes widen a bit. “Nisha… did you kill anyone getting me this…?”

    A grin forms on her beautiful face, but it’s too wide and momentarily breaks the illusion.

    I focus on my sandwich.

    “I only ate one person this time! And nobody else saw me!”

    I wince as Nisha looks at me, beaming with pride. It’s kinda cute. As long as… I don’t think about it too much. “You did… good…”

    Her smile fades again. “You’re upset… I really am trying my best… What can I do?”

    “I’m… just tired of being stuck all the way out here.”

    “You… want to go out again?” Nisha growls, her face contorting in her fury. “Okay, FINE! Let’s do that! You’ll leave here and they’ll find you just like last time! I’m just trying to protect you! Why am I the bad guy?! It’s not FAIR!”

    Stay calm.

    Don’t react.

    Breathe.

    God, I hate it when her human form breaks apart like this. She’s just… teeth. Rows and rows of teeth and eyes where there shouldn’t be eyes and tentacles and veiny flesh and appendages I don’t even want to try to figure out.

    All of Nisha’s eyes widen with realization as she rebuilds her illusion and hugs my leg. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!”

    I remind myself that without a protector, I’m dead or worse. I remind myself that Nisha killed my last protector. I remind myself that it could be worse.

    And I take another bite of my sandwich.

    1. 7ANKOUCH Avatar
      7ANKOUCH

      I dont wanna know whats in that sandwish 😱 BUT I LOVE IT

      1. Lol thank you! I did purposely leave that sandwich as vague as possible for a reason.

    2. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      There’s so much character and personal history communicated through their interactions, their dialogue, their body language. This is really well written! Nisha the Lovecraftian creature comes off as lovable and quite endearing with her infectious positivity and caring nature, while the narrator despite his disappointments doesn’t come off as a jerk. You did a fantastic job with this one!

      1. Thank you so much! I’m really glad you enjoyed this. I had a lot of fun with the characters in this one and I was hoping they’d come across as pretty layered. Especially Nisha, who I wanted to give that blend of terrifying but cute, which apparently worked lol.

    3. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      So the big burning question here… what’s in that sandwich? This really is an awkward situation for the protagonist, not being able to say what they’re thinking. Not to offend, not to anger, knowing Nisha has killed and will do it again, and praying to any god that will listen that that’s not where the sandwich meat came from.

      1. I shall never tell what is in that sandwich short of it being cooked meat. Gotten in some way, shape, or form from a grocery store lol.

        I will admit I had loads of fun with Nisha and Murphy’s dynamic though.

    4. All this concern about a sandwich and she said she got it from a grocery store. It’s probably pre-made. Even if it wasn’t, it’d be so much trouble to turn a human into lunch meat rather just use the lunch mest that’s alread there. Jeez.*

      Anyway. This doesn’t feel like Matt’s universe, which is interesting since I think that makes this the first time you haven’t written for that world.

      It does beg the question of /what the flark is going on?!?!/. Like, this has the vibes of a zombie Apocolypse but with like, the creatures of the Abyss instead. But then at least two have been friendly? Why did Nisha kill his last “protector”? Are they keeping him as a pet? Does he have magic romance powers that affect even these beings? How much of her diguise is an actual change and how much is just illusion?

      There’s just a LOT to unpack here.
      Great story though.

      *this is assuming the store is still operating as normal, why else would he be concerned about how she got it? If there wasn’t an expectation of payment she could just take whatever and bring it back without any problem, but the fact that she DID kill someone implies that, on an otherwise assumed peaceful errand, someone said or did something to try and stop her from leaving with the sandwich. Even if that was just asking for payment. But if it’s been long enough it’s possible everything spoiled so… (But then why would he mention it…?)

      1. She’s totally in the right. She got meat FROM the grocery store, and human meat is abundant there. It’s not her fault the narrator didn’t specify.

        1. I mean… you’re not entirely wrong in that logic…

      2. Lol funny fact. This DOES take place in Matt’s universe. The streak continues! Murphy(the narrator) is actually descended from Lilith, only there’s so much human DNA in his genetics that he’s mostly human. It’s just that there is enough incubus in there, getting mutated through the generations, that he just got the unfortunate blend that attracts demons. So you were right with the magic romance powers technically.

        So you could think of it as a demon battle royale and so far there have been two winners for extended periods. You could make an argument for the pet thing lol.

        And the illusion in Nisha’s case is a legitimate transformation. But Murphy would absolutely see it as an illusion because he knows what she actually looks like and he can’t unsee it.

        Lol and yes, Nisha was chased because she didn’t pay for the sandwich and took that as an invitation to get some dinner for herself.

        1. The man is a hentai protagonist trapped at the center of a game of Among Us crossed with Sucker For Love.
          Talk about Blessed With Suck!

    5. I choose to believe that the almighty FLESH HORSE has blessed me with a meaty sandwich.

      1. But how can you be sure? Maybe the sandwich is -gasp- Flesh Horse Flesh!

  37. Don’t Let the Sun go Down So Fast (A Tiefling Tale)
    C. M. Weller.

    The sun was getting real low. A Tiefling had to return to the cell in which he allegedly rested, but only when the light of day was gone from the sky. Three more hours until twilight. Three more hours until the hours meant for a good night’s sleep.

    He hadn’t had a sound night’s worth of rest in his LIFE.

    Lordling or Novice or Tiefling, it didn’t matter. Nothing could keep the nightmares at bay. Nothing, if he slept. If, however, he could finally master the technique of Elven meditation, he could rest without sleeping.

    His knees would be stiff from kneeling all night, and his spine would creak from maintaining the posture, but there would be no nightmares. No nightmares, and no nodding over his lessons that only earned him Extra Sweeping in the halls and pathways of Hidden Cloud Dojo.

    The sundial of his own shadow lengthened, and a Tiefling who no longer used his name tried and failed to ease the grip on the broom’s handle. Focus. Breathe. Perform the kata.

    Do. Not. Think. About. The sun.

    Would it be another night of waking up, shrieking, to a hail of his neighbours’ sandals and study scrolls, and howls for him to shut up? Or would it be a night of peace?

    His failures stood out for the fact that they meant extra torments. From his fellow Novices. From the Master, who he loved beyond reason, three years teaching him in his Select Class. All the time tutting and sighing at the Tiefling’s multiple disappointments.

    Do. Not. THINK. About. The sun.

    His shadow was fading. Blending with the other shadows.

    Tears flooded his eyes in spite of his wish that they wouldn’t. He had to put the broom away. He HAD to try again. His sandals were heavier than lead, all the way to his cell. His heart hammered as if to escape his ribs.

    Once more, he knelt on his mat. Once more, he focussed on his breathing. Once more, he began his whispered chant.

    “My mind is my body, my body is mine to control…”

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      *Thinks about sun dies horribly*

      Real talk, the whole piece captures the feeling perfectly. Great job.

      1. Maybe dies internally though 😉

    2. You’d think after awhile it become a case of…
      Newbie, woken up by screaming: What’s that!?
      Their Roommate: That’s just Kosh. He does that every night. Go back to sleep.

      But if the general populace hates teiflings as much as you’ve insinuated I’m sure they’d be happy with any excuse.

      It’s interesting to think of “Elven Meditation” as something others could learn, rather than a racial trait… Elves ARE part of your world, arent they? The master is one? Outside of Tieflings, non-human races don’t come up much in these little stories.
      Is it more a case of Elves only need a couple hours of rest at all, and most just choose to do the meditation instead of sleep, so the meditation itself is something anyone could learn? (But Kosh still needs 7-8 hours?)

      Are these nightmares supernatural? It seems excessive for these to be an every night as far back as he can remember thing.

      (Don’t kick the baby.)

      Or…not.

      1. In my universe, it is a skill that can be learned. Half-elves need to learn it, so why can’t humans? Or those who are nearly human?

        Kosh’s nightmares are entirely because of his mental issues. Long-term stuff and mixed fears and NO COUNSELING.

        Kosh still needs 8 hours rest because no Elven blood in his ancestry.

    3. I love how your texts follow a story but can be read individually. And I know this felling, there has been a time when I feared going to sleep due to many nightmares or exaustive dreams.

      But I wonder if this meditation tecnique will work. Usually, “don’t think about pink elephants” makes you think about them. I wish luck to this poor dude.

      1. This technique’s more like intense focus on what his body is doing and controlling it through a degree of mindfulness. Hard for mere mortals to master, but Kosh has significant motivation.

        He has it mastered in five years. Something ELSE that makes his Dojo Master ticked off with him.

    4. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      This is an interesting exploration of Kosh’s struggle with his own inner demons and nightmares. It’s interesting how the sun and he desire not to think about it serves as a grinding clock moving toward his next attempt at Elven meditation and the hope that he will escape the nightmares, and that clock like imagery works well for capturing the crawling dread. At the same time, I think I recall the reference in a story set later in Kosh’s life that he didn’t sleep (I think it was during a story were he was the target of an attempted kidnapping and he left his would be assailants bumbling in the dark) so it seems he eventually was successful in mastering the meditation he struggled to in this story.

      Another strong element in the story was his own feelings of self-judgement and constant judgement by both his Master and the other Novices. It made me feel sorry for the poor tiefling. To be tormented by judgement (by day) and nightmares (by night) unable to find peace. It is as always a rough and long journey for happiness for Kosh (and Cordelia as well in her own path).

      1. You remember correctly, my lad Kosh does master the Elven form of meditation to keep the “dreams” away.

        One of his other stories about that had, “I don’t sleep in a bed,” (waggles eyebrows) “alone.”

        He is motivated to get it right, and he will. Much to the annoyance of everyone who wants him to fail.

    5. Nuuuuuu. The poor Boy! He’s having nightmares, he fears going to sleep, he’s afraid of disappointing his teacher, and his roommates SUCK!!

      That’s it! I’m invading the story to give him a hug! Imma give my boy some therapy! Imma show him ASMR! My BOY needs a FRIEND!

      Very nice take on the prompt. This actually makes a lot of sense as to why he was so happy with his lover in the future. He can get a good night sleep with her. Which is a really sweet thing to know.

      Here’s a like!

      1. Neighbours, not roommates, but you get the idea.

        Poor Kosh spends most of his life believing he’ll never have a friend. At least until he joins a team of adventuring lunatics who adopt him in spite of himself. Takes him a solid while to catch on about that, too.

        It’s not just the lady, it’s the fact that his fears were blown to itty bitty smithereens by their mutual love. So gooshy sweet but also well earned.

  38. Reinkarnitor Avatar
    Reinkarnitor

    “From a certain angle”

    by Reinkarnitor

    The dark is something dangerous. Why else would it be one of the oldest fears of humanity? But we would have never guessed that the sunset could be dangerous as well.

    When our colonizing ship arrived on Beta-7, we thought it would be just like all the other times. Set up camp and start exploring this planet.

    Oh, it is magnificent, the drones have indeed sent back perfect footage, the air is breathable and there are no illnesses, which we did not encounter before. My team and I arrived at sunset and started building up the first containers.

    A small group of us went out to scout the surrounding area and found a rich fauna and flora, perfect for cultivation.

    At noon we ate our first meal on Beta-7. I have to say for canned food it was delicious, but maybe that was because of the long cryostasis…I’m getting off track again…

    We agreed on spending the night inside the landing-craft, since we do not know yet, what might lurk out there in the dark. But the sunset was indeed beautiful, as we watched it from the door of our craft.

    That means…they watched it…I was busy testing the last samples of what we gathered and only looked out of the window occasionally.

    And then they screamed. I almost let my sample-bottles fall to the ground in shock, as I hastily ran to the window again. My fellow crewmembers turned into dust in front of my very eyes. They screamed in agony, as they disintegrated. And after just a few seconds…I was alone.

    I have discovered that the sunlight on Beta-7, when reaching a certain angle during sunset, passes through the protective layers of the atmosphere…killing everything that did not hide in time.

    By the time this message reaches you, I might be dead …after all space is a big place. But I need to send you this warning, so I can maybe save the lives of the colonists who come after me.

    In the meantime, I’ll try to survive as long as I can.

    Over and out.

    1. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      I definitely expected someone to take the prompt literally and make the thing to fear the actual setting of the sun.
      In any case, I really like this. It reminds me of Pitch Black (the Riddick movie) with an interesting interaction with its sun that makes it a fun concept to explore. I’d love to see more of the life forms that inhabit this planet, and maybe get chased by horrifying monsters along the way as well.

    2. Very interesting idea. The sun actually be the killer is a really unique concept. Reminds me of a Netflix show, where a group of people on a plane must escape the sunrise or the sun will fry them (Watch Into the Night, but I wouldn’t reccomend it, the characters are annoying). Keep up the good work!

  39. Jack Smith Avatar
    Jack Smith

    Loop

    By Jack Smith

    The sun, a glowing orb that says we are still alive, to some it may be happy to see the sunrise, to others it may be annoying, but to me, it’s dreadful. Every sunset a shiver goes down my spine, I am cursed to do things of which are not my own, the people I’ve slaughtered, every, single, night. and you may think to yourself, werewolves? no no no… anything but that. insanity, doing the exact thing, over and over again, expecting something to change, and that’s what happened to me, every single day for the past month has been a time loop, at first I thought it was just coincidence but then it started appearing, it made sense, I was in a loop, I started doing things I’ve been wanting for a long time, things people wouldn’t normally think of me. and you know what happened? the entire town “disappeared” within a day I was in that loop, day 50. I had already gone “insane” by then, getting strange looks in the street, people thought not of me, but of themselves, so I did what any man with a brain would do, you know what I did? I’ll let you guess… you see, this town wasn’t fit for a person like me, it wasn’t fit for anyone, so I vowed to track down the man that put me in this loop, and my searching found only one, and… that’s.. you… good night.

    1. I was going to have a go at you for writing a wall of text. You know the deal – paragraphs are important, et cetera. But I took the time to read it all and – the wall of text makes SENSE.

      This is a rant by a person who’s been living the same groundhog day for at LEAST two months. Who thinks they FINALLY have the key to ending their bad situation. They may be right, they may be wrong. But either way it’s bad news for the reader.

      1. Jack Smith Avatar
        Jack Smith

        YES thats exactly it, i wrote it out as the rant of a trapped person!

    2. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      This feels like a combination of the setting and premise of Groundhog Day with the main character and his personality/voice from Memento. I like this idea you have a someone trapped in a loop, but rather than struggling to figure out what’s causing it for the majority of the story, the character knows exactly who caused it and spends their time trying to either track them down or find some way to catch them at the right time. It’s kind of like an assassin who as been sent to kill someone, but must constantly repeat the mission over and over again and can’t leave until they complete it.

      Now, I’m not a huge fan of stories on here that come across as large monologues because more often than not they feel more like the summary of a good story idea rather than an actual story. Despite this I think monologue style stories can work when they do more than just summarize the story and come from a unique character with a unique and engaging personality. Unfortunately this story to me falls little too close to the former.

      While I like idea behind the ending, there’s one thing that hurts it. First, when the readers themselves are made a part of a story, that is second person point of view. It’s an odd perspective choice and can often be difficult to use depending on the story (I’ve only ever done this style once before in my own writing). There’s nothing wrong with using it, however it doesn’t mesh well here due to the fact that the rest of the story leading up to it was in first person. This whole thing could actually work as is if it was written more as a message to the reader, in a way like a letter or a recording specifically addressed to the reader (the story as is doesn’t give any indication of that).

      Overall I liked the ideas behind this story, and hope you continue to write and come up more amazing things!

    3. Oh. Well then. Guess I’ll die.

      But before that. This was a unique one that reminded me of Donnie Darko rather than Groundhog Day. The mental anguish, reliving the same events over and over again, and people dying decided that. What makes it unique is the way it was written, like what you would find on a mad man’s wall.

      Now I’m going to slam that like button like that jet engine did to Donnie Darko.

  40. Skeleton Avatar
    Skeleton

    Death is a Mercy (The Will)
    By Skeleton

    The campfire hissed venomously as it extinguished.

    Skore knew camping out in the woods of Fel Kass was a needlessly dangerous endeavour—they called them the “Woods of Death” for a reason! And now they were stuck in the middle of a cursed forest without any light, the snapping of branches around the three of them!

    “Y-Yaskjer?” the terrified wulack mercenary whimpered as he backed closer and closer towards the embers. “Where a-are y—?”

    Yaskjer’s scream ruptured the darkness beside him, stopping Skore’s heart. The thump of his brother’s body hitting the ground was quickly followed by his cries being smothered by distance.

    Another panicked scream rang out—Haval’s—as he, too, was dragged away into the darkness at unnatural speeds. Was the forest itself taking them?! Was it the tortured souls of the Kine family?!

    The last mercenary stumbled over his traveling pack and lost his sword to the cold, thick air. Skore quickly fell to his paws and knees, massaging the needle-bed of grass for his soft sabre. Instead, his paw touched something cold and wet.

    Skore’s screams permeated the entire forest when it touched back.

    It snatched his arm into the ground like they had been camping in a bog this entire time. When the other arm supporting his efforts to pull free began to be consumed by the black tar, despair set in. When his legs sunk beneath the surface and he felt the hands of the dead pulling him under, he knew it was already over for him.

    Sacrificing his last bit of hope, Skore pulled with all his might to free his arms, but to no avail.

    He would die on his paws and knees like the dog he was, knowing he would never see the sunrise again. All the mistakes of his life left to stain the memories that flashed before his eyes. The regret washed over him. He realized he didn’t want to die.

    And then it stopped.

    The tar returned to soil and Skore was left with just his head above the ground.

    It was silent—then he heard boots.

    The Sufferer approached.

    1. Jack Smith Avatar
      Jack Smith

      I absolutely love the environment telling of this, it really puts you in the boots of the mercenaries, it doesn’t explain the monster too much, and all that’s left of them is one of their heads. absolutely amazing, 10/10

    2. Yeees. YEEES!

      Horrify the Dog man!

      The ambience was impeccable, and immediately threw me into the conclusion that this was a horror story.

      The only thing I wonder is, who and/or what is The Sufferer? It sounds like a depiction of Death. But with so little information, I have no idea if this is just a Death coming to claim him or it’s just a more powerful cursed entity below death but above the ground demons.

      But regardless it sounds worse than what took Skore’s brother’s.

      Now take this like, and have a GREAT day!

      (Slaps the like button like it owed me something)

  41. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    Lygophobia
    by Lee Strangely

    Even if the road wasn’t that bumpy, Johnny would still be shaking. His gaze primarily resided in his lap. His arm lying on the armrest and tapping it as if he was a telegraph operator. He struggled to distract himself from the situation. However, much like any conditioned behavior, he couldn’t resist cocking his head back to check the rear window.

    “Will you stop doing that!” Mina snapped.

    “I can’t help it,” he whimpered as he jerked back into place, “I don’t think we’re gonna make it.”

    “We won’t if you keep saying that,” she said through clenched teeth. Upon uttering those words, the gas pedal found itself once more inching towards the floor.

    Mina’s car was something of a Frankenstein. On the outside it seemed to be a patched-up black Chrysler Imperial, though on the inside one would find that no two parts in the entire thing have come from the same vehicle. At its current speed, the car was one step away from making everything beyond the windows look like paint smears.

    Holding in place, Johnny’s eyes covertly peeked into his door’s rear-view mirror. Beyond the black silhouettes of tall and gnarly trees, the sky burned with a fiery orange light.

    “S-sun’s going down,” he quivered.

    Mina grimaced. “Johnny…”

    “Sorry…”

    Johnny’s tapping only got worse.

    Tap, tap, tap, tap.

    TAP, TAP, TAP, TAP.

    TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP.

    She snatched his arm by the wrist with a python’s grip.

    Johnny froze. “Sorry…”

    Though it wasn’t nearly as much as he’d been doing, in his stillness he realized how much she was shaking. She let go once she thought he stopped.

    “We should’ve left earlier,” he muttered.

    “Yeah,” Mina agreed, “but there’s nothing we can do about that now.”

    “Um, BRAKE!” Johnny shouted as a house practically barreled towards them.

    Her boot slammed the pedal. The entire vehicle jolted, jerking the two like crash-dummies.

    In the twilight the house loomed over the car, domineering. Almost like an eye, the light of a single window shined down on them.

    Johnny sunk into his seat, “Oh no.”

    Mina paled, “Mom’s gonna kill us.”

    1. Jack Smith Avatar
      Jack Smith

      really great ending, I love the mysteriousness of it, why are they in trouble and stuff? and the suspense of the sun going down is really nice. although I would hope for a little more details on it, but the analogies in the beginning and end make up for that.

    2. At least they’re not meeting, to use a phrase from a Jeff Foxworthy routine, “The creature from the Bathrobe Lagoon.” That’s for a MUCH later hour than sunset.

      They should not be driving that vehicle, all the same.Not due to their age or anything of the sort, but because it’s three coughs away from rejoining the junkyard.

      Johnny and Mina are late home and their mother is TICKED about it. I love it.

    3. I really love the suspense and calculated vagueness of this. The way you described Johnny’s anxiety imparts that same feeling on the reader, and it made me wonder all the while what he was so afraid of. Mina’s characterization plays off of his in a very smooth way, and it really gave off a really cool best friend/sibling vibe. Great ending too!

    4. HA! The twist.

      I thought it was the end of the apocalypse or something. But WOW!

      The descriptions of Johnny’s anxiousness and Mina’s irritation had me fooled that the darkest outcome was going to happen. But no, it’s worse.

      I am going to gently touch the like button because I know their Mom won’t.

    5. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That twist was really something! There were so many things I could imagine that lurked in the dark after sunset… but rigid parents being exceedingly precise with their timing was not one of them.

      The way you present the tension and anxiety of Mina and Johnny is quite strong. The interactions feel very lived in. Also, the whole thing about the car description made me wonder its place in the story, which made the twist ending get me really unaware.

      Great tale, Lee. That was a very fun read.

    6. Lol this story was glorious. I especially liked the title, though it isn’t truly the dark they’re scared of. But you did an excellent job of portraying that fear. Youake the reader end up right there with Johnny. All his anxiety is only increased by the way you described the car, which made you wonder if the car was even capable of making the trip.

      I did assume they were running away from something, so when it turned out they were actually running towards something, it cracked me up. Especially when I realized they were just trying to get home before their mom or before their curfew or whatever the issue actually is lol. I frickin loved this ending.

      Very entertaining take on the prompt!

    7. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      Well this ended up pretty funny in the end. It’s not entirely clear what Johnny and Mina’s relationship is. The context has me unsure between dating and siblings. Either way, there’s no greater fear than an angry mother, especially after curfew. I was wondering throughout why they were in this situation, and there were no specifics in the end, but that almost made the punchline better.

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