Writing Group: The Man at the Crossroads

Hello, Weary Wanderers and Will-o’-the-Wisps!

Looks like you’re a bit lost, my dear. Let me help you. Let’s see, you could go that way…but it would be dangerous. Or you could go that way…but it would be boring. Decisions decisions. Best make them wisely because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

The Man at the Crossroads

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!

Stories—especially of the fairy tales and fable variety—are full of strange roads, and mysterious men. Oftentimes, our intrepid hero will arrive at a crossroad to find someone pointing them in a certain direction. This person could be perfectly benign, or they could be a villain pointing them down the dark, dangerous path—perhaps down the road leading to their own castle. 

A good example of this prompt is Alice in Wonderland. She is faced with many crossroads along her journey, and many creatures who direct her on her way. Some help her, others direct her poorly, and others simply want to talk there in the middle. But whichever direction she chooses, she faces only more strangeness and madness. 

Crossroads don’t have to be roads exactly. A crossroad can be any sort of diverging path. In science fiction stories, a crossroad could be a crew deciding if they should go back for more fuel, or hope what they have lasts the rest of the way. A crossroad can be a difficult decision; our friends don’t always have the best advice. 

Likewise, “man” doesn’t have to be a man exactly. The human race as a whole is often referred to as “man.” A silhouette could at first look like a man, but upon closer inspection prove itself a creature of mimicry. Maybe we don’t even see the man, but assume the lantern glowing in the dark, seemingly guiding us, hangs from a human hand…only to learn much too late that it was a hinkypunk leading us astray.

Demons and devils often prey on lost creatures. Perhaps a demon appears human, whispering the wonders of the darker path. Or perhaps it offers another path, with a higher cost, and a greater reward. In real life, people often end up joining cults, or getting caught up with addiction because of a single encounter when they were at a crossroad in life. 

Or it could be something more benevolent. Maybe a scarecrow stands at the crossroad, its purpose and delight directing passerby. Or maybe it’s just the nice lady at the craft store directing you to aisle three. 

Now, you best be on your way. And keep your wits about you. Not everyone on this road will be as helpful as me.

—Kaylie

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Comments

182 responses to “Writing Group: The Man at the Crossroads”

  1. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
    Iosef Paramonov

    The Burden
    by Iosef Paramonov

    It lay on its shell in the middle of the crossroads. A foul creature, black mucus spewing from its soft underside with a stench that rotted the air, and six pairs of suckers twitching feebly. It had two buggy eyes and a black-lipped mouth, which opened and closed with jagged breathing.

    It heard the boots stop nearby. It averted its eyes from the stranger’s gaze.

    “What are you?” inquired the stranger.

    “I’m a Burden,” said the creature, “Sorry to bother you.”

    “Why are you sorry?”

    “Just… for being a Burden.”

    The stranger shuffled their feet. “What’s a Burden?” they asked.

    “I can only live on the backs of other people.” said the Burden, “I ride on their backs, wherever they go. I feed off their successes in life. I weigh them down, until they cast me off. Then I must wait for another person to bear my weight.”

    It sighed. “I’m not proud of it. But this is what I am.”

    The stranger squatted closer to the Burden. “Can’t you move by yourself?”

    “No,” said the Burden, “I only follow, never lead. I don’t have a destiny. I just exist.”

    The stranger pondered this in silence. Then they extended a hand. Gently, they turned the Burden onto its front suckers.

    “What are you doing?” asked the Burden, confused.

    “Pick a path.” smiled the stranger. “Walk down it.”

    “I can’t!” cried the Burden, tears in its eyes, “I don’t deserve to!”

    “What’s deserve got to do with it?” said the stranger, “You are your own person. If you exist, you exist for a reason. Find that reason. Pick a path.”

    The Burden’s eyes darted fretfully here and there. Then they closed. It took a deep breath, and stretched its sucker out as far as it would go. Barely a millimeter. Then it stretched its next sucker. And the next foot. Then the next. Now it was on its hands and knees.

    The person raised themselves, and gazed at an endless path meandering in the distance. They turned, glancing once more at the smiling stranger. Then they took another step forward.

  2. Semantics Avatar
    Semantics

    What the world has come to

    By Martin/Semantics

    Snowflakes drifted from the dark night sky into the lit snow-covered streets as a young man wearing nothing but sleeveless t-shirt and reaped jean pants walked home. A few other similarly lightly dressed people where walking about with yawns on their faces, saying good night to their friends whom they had just spend I lively night with.
    As the young man walked, he came at a crossroads where a man dressed with many layers, a fedora and a warm long coat sitting near the corner playing a little ditty on his old-fashioned guitar. The young man being curious approached the man saying.

    “Well, isn’t this a rare relic to see”

    The old man promptly stopped playing and looked up at the young man with a grin.

    “it’s a Yamaha”

    “I was talking about you old timer. Didn’t think your kind was around anymore”

    “Oh yeah? And what kind is that pray tell”

    “You know. The cybernetically un-enhanced. The technologically abstinent. The bodily purists”

    The man put his guitar to the side and stood up facing the young man
    “Don’t kid yourself boy. Surely there is something you desire, something more than the trivial conveniences of your gadgets. Perhaps the talent that people can only dream to be born with”

    The young man scoffed at the mans remarks and replied “Just tell me what your selling and for how much already”

    “How about limitless musical talent? I can make you more famous than Mozart. All your dreams come true for the mire price of your soul, and since most of you don’t even believe in that it should be quite cheap. What do you say?”

    The young man gently picked up the mans guitar and started playing the exact melody the man was playing but a moment ago perfectly. “This is the first time I have ever picked up a musical instrument. If there is such a thing as a soul why would i risk ensuring damnation, regardless of how slim the chance, for a shortcut while i can achieve anything i want with just a few modifications?”

    After finishing his statement, the young man put the guitar back down and waved to the man off as he went on his way.

    The heavily dressed man sighted at that. “Times where you could get a hole wish for a soul. Perhaps I should get a new job” said the man as he dissipated into black smoke.

    Now i know i post this past due and it has a few too many words but i just wanted to post it anyways since i wrote it. Hope you like it.

  3. A deal with certain Death
    By : Sevau Cilla Galya

    On a dawn blighted night, and atop a hill sat a man. Rugged is one way to describe him, barely living is another. Like a deposed king in his last seconds on the gilded throne. Maybe he was one.

    In front of him was an impaled man. The one who was supposed to conclude his tyrannical. Yet, there they were laying bloodied.

    The usual gentle bellows of wind across the plains of red, was now littered with the sounds of clanking and grating chains on the ground. Both the living and the dead were silent in the face of the newest arrival.

    As far as those around knows from their screaming instincts. “That” shouldn’t be bothered, denied, nor prevented. The Sinner, relegated by the world itself to prevent the worst of the worst…

    …and yet, here. “That” was standing in front the near-dead man. Clutching a bloodied pole.

    A dry raspy-voiced echoed from the slits and tears on the bandages and chains that covered the man. “Do you know why I am here?” it said.

    “Yes.”

    “Then, Pray. Pray that you have made amends.”

    A resounding silence came about as that question appeared. The man thought to himself, ‘What of these atrocities have I done to bear being the weighted mark of a hunted Sinner?’

    As though accepting inevitable fate, The man answered a resounding.

    “…No.”

    “No?”

    “Sometimes, To save yourself. You don’t have to make amends! I might have been a tyrant but I am still their king. End me but spare the men.”

    Stifles of laughter echo throughout the silent fields.

    “I see. Well then, Someone like you shouldn’t die in a place like this. And certainly, I am in the need of a finger to etch around.”

    Forcing a smirk underneath heavy breaths, and the will to live a single day longer. The man answered.

    “I—…”

    Before being cutoff by the Sinner with a wide grin peeking out the bandages.

    “Choose wisely, Oh unbound deposed tyrant. For this is a deal between man and death.”

  4. Wise Choice
    By Vivante

    The old woman hobbled along the rocky pathway. A path made of hot lava turned into thousands of rough knives that stabbed and tore her feet. Faded grey eyes were glued to the horizon, and an endless mantra echoed through the deafening silence: “Just a bit more…. Just a bit more…. Just a bit more….”

    The path, which looked flowery and beautiful at the start, showed more and more dangerous traps and obstacles with each taken step. But no matter how hard the road became, an alluring mirage at the end never let the woman stop moving forward. She chose this path. And, no matter what, she was determined to push till the end.

    Something at the horizon flashed. The barley-yellow line cut through the blackness of endless claws of the unforgiving earth. The woman sprinted towards the line, which slowly turned into a gravel road surrounded by the sea of wheat. She ran as fast as she could, not wanting to waste even a single second. Then… she suddenly stopped.

    “This is supposed to be the exit! There is no other way!” She shouted before collapsing to the ground. “I thought…. that… I can finally…. leave….”

    She was at a crossroad. That wretched crossroad to which she returned time and time again. There were no paths she left untried. No, she inspected every nook and cranny. At yet… she came back to where she had started. Only a statue of a white angel indifferently observed her anguish. As if to mock her, it was holding the text: “Choose wisely and you will find the exit.”

    A sudden child’s cry rang through the field. A little boy appeared in front of a statue. He stood there lost and after seeing the old lady asked: “What is this place?”

    “The crossroad that you can never leave.”

    “But it says that there is an exit.” The boy pointed at the statue.

    “I know.”

    After sitting in silence for a long time, the boy got up and went to one of the exits. The woman recognized this path. It was the last one she tried.

    “Stop! That one is not good!”

    “Why not? I like it.” Boy paused.

    “It’s very painful.”

    “Are other paths not painful?”

    There was silence. The boy started to move again. Then, the lady asked: “Are you sure you want… THAT… path?”

    “Yep.” The boy replied and moved forward. The woman sighed.

    Later, the silence covered the crossroad. On the road that was chosen by the boy, the child’s traces were left on the ground, and another bloodied traces were seen beside them. No one was able to see a smile appearing on the face of the white angel.

  5. To Define Revenge
    by Mephistopheles

    As a train rushed past the abandoned garden, a smile tugged at my lips. It had not changed at all since the day I’d found it. The little ramshackle ruin, with its overgrown lawns, musty gazebo and incomplete fence held a special place in my heart. It was here that my life had changed.

    It was a hazy autumn evening, and wearied by my aimless wandering, I had stumbled across this little retreat by accident. It had been abandoned mid-way through its development some years before and its gates were locked, but I had gained entry through a break in the fence. Large trees denied sunlight entry into the place, though little beams snuck through, laying down a net on the ground. The garden seemed eternally suspended in twilight.

    My life, until that day, had been on a perfect trajectory, so that I knew not how to deal with the sudden crisis that had befallen me. I sat there, half dazed, till the dull lamps had come on, half-illuminating the great trees. Shadows danced when the wind swayed their boughs, and the rustle of the leaves seemed to whisper in my ears:

    “Revenge!”

    I had been betrayed. Anger and sorrow filled my thoughts, obscuring any path forward. I had sworn revenge before I left. But what did that mean? What could I do against them? I had spent years working with them, so I knew how powerful they were.

    In that moment of despair, I met him. We did not know each other, but he seemed to understand my suffering. He stood by me for a long time in complete silence. I welcomed his presence, for it felt warm and friendly. Then, he spoke a simple sentence – a tiny gesture of kindness. And that was enough.

    That was many years ago. My life has never been better. The best revenge, it seemed, was to live a good life.

    I left, that day, with the man at the crossroad. And that has made all the difference.

    1. I love the message of this piece. Showing that sometimes not pursuing destructive revenge and showing kindness to others is the most important choice that a person may select. Also the scenery described at the beginning and metaphor with abandoned garden strongly conveys the atmosphere of the story and easily transitions into state of mind of the protagonist.

      1. Thank you for reading! I’m glad you enjoyed it. I drew inspiration for the garden from a real-life garden I visited a long time ago. It was so pretty (though incomplete) that it has stuck with me

  6. Mr DeBlob Avatar
    Mr DeBlob

    Caught Between
    Mr DeBlob

    Ellois hung between two realities, the one he left shining far above him while the next lay far below in darkness. He’d finally fallen halfway down this eternal tunnel when an angel flew in from the space outside universes, seizing him in its manifold wings.

    “Why hast thou trespassed the walls of thy world?” Its voice pierced his mind, drawing the truth from him like a syringe.

    “To escape your Master’s judgment,” Ellois whispered, “where he marked no sin upon me, upon the world.”

    Its eyes appraised him, shifting just so that he knew the angel recognized his countenance. He closed his eyes and awaited his punishment. What might it be this time? The scourge? Locusts? Abaddon?

    No pain came; instead, it set him down on solid ground. When he looked, the tunnel had turned and shrunk into a small corridor, realities occupying separate ends. The angel floated above, sharpening its wings as eyes surrounded him on all sides.

    With a single swipe, it split Ellois in twain as two of him emerged from one. For a moment, his mind occupied both bodies peacefully, without pain until they began walking towards their respective realities.

    “Consider this His Grace, O Marked.” The angel retreated back between realities. “Thy child bade thee return, and so thee shall. Yet thou only possess one mind.” With each step, his mind stretched further. “So choose, wayward son, choose.”

    Ellois had no time, no way to reason. He could only close his eyes and walk on.

    1. This is beautiful. I love how the angel uses old English while talking to show how ancient is this creature. And choosing without knowledge or time is a strong way to show that punishment may come in many forms and be much more painful than what one may expect….

    2. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      Gorgeous descriptive writing, and I love the use of the stylized speech. That was done exceptionally well and did not feel awkward at all.

      The story feels like a fable, perhaps a fairy tale. It really moved me, yet I am not sure how. But in any case, very well done, you should be proud of this work.

  7. Corner Gas
    By MasaCur (Reposted from Private Group)

    Melissa pulled off the cracked pavement of the country road into the gravel lot of the small gas station. As soon as she parked the car next to one of the pumps, Erykah got out of the passenger seat and stretched. Melissa got out with a groan.

    “Erykah, fill it up. I’ll see if they have sandwiches or something.” She hoped so. There wasn’t much else around but Nevada desert.

    “Where are we, anyway?” Erykah asked, grabbing the fuel nozzle.

    Melissa shook her head. She looked at the faded painted sign on the front of the gas station storefront. Tucker Gas. “We passed Goodsprings about fifteen minutes ago. Pioche will be a few more hours.”

    Melissa walked into the store, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer lights inside. Behind the counter was a young boy with blonde hair, probably no more than twelve.

    “Afternoon,” the boy laconically said.

    “Good afternoon. Have you got anything to eat here?”

    “There’s sandwiches in the left-most cooler, just above the beer. Chips in the second aisle, chocolate bars in the third. I’ve also got hot dogs.” The boy slapped the roller grill beside the register.

    Melissa warily eyed the hotdogs on the rollers, certain they had been there far too long. She wandered over to the sandwich cooler, looking over the meager selection.

    “If there’s anything you want that you don’t see, let me know. I can probably get it for you,” the boy added.

    Melissa laughed. “Aren’t you a little young to be working here? Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

    “I’m older than you’d think. And getting things for people is my side hustle.”

    “Can you get my boyfriend out of prison?” Melissa asked sarcastically.

    “Which prison?”

    Goosebumps raised on Melissa’s skin.

    Erykah entered the store. “Hey, Mel, we’re gassed up, and…what are you doing here?”

    Melissa turned to see her friend looking at the boy. “You know each other?”

    Erykah frowned. “We’ll take that gas, and nothing else.” She turned to Melissa. “This kid doesn’t look like it, but I’d like you to meet Satan.”

    1. I’m curious about how Erykah knows Satan. Even more so if he’s not actually Lucifer Morningstar but just an annoying little shit.

      I do the love the “which prison” line. It’s more interesting than a straight affirmative, because it gives a feel of “maybe, depends”.

      And honestly, unless the sandwiches are professionally packaged with a Best By date, I wouldn’t trust them more than the hot dogs.

      But I’m mostly curious if Erykah thinks there’s an actual risk to buying food. Is she only buying the gas because she already filled the tank?

  8. Where Paths Diverge (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By Makokam

    Thomas sighed into his beer.

    “How’re your ribs doing?” His friend, Sherman, asked him.

    Thomas took a deep breath and winced at the pain. “Not quite there yet.”

    “That sucks,” Sherman said, drinking his beer in one go. “Another!” He shouted to the waitress. “We could’ve really used you on the last job.”

    “Yeah? Something happen?”

    “Soldier’s good with tech, but he ain’t patient. When he didn’t get through the door the first time, he got pissed and had me break it down-”

    “Fuckin’ idiot.”

    “So the guards came running, and it was Wolf Pack guards, so it was a problem.”

    “Of course it was.”

    “Yeah, but it was a FUN problem,” Sherman said, he took his fourth beer from the waitress. “I mean, Harpy got her wing broken so she’s gonna be out for awhile. And Chimera got shot to hell so he’s gonna need to sleep that off.

    Thomas looked around the bar at the other career criminals. Super Villains even. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

    Sherman stopped drinking his beer. “Of what?”

    “Stealing. Hurting people. Getting punched in the face.”

    Sherman stopped again. “Do you?”

    It took a moment, but Thomas answered, “Yeah. Puzzling out how to get a job done is fun, but I like making stuff.”

    “Is that what you want to do? Make stuff?”

    Thomas shrugged. “It’s how I started. It’s what I did in middle school, before I started getting into  trouble.”

    Sherman grinned. “Yeah. Good times.” And he downed his beer.

    Thomas stared into his drink. Good times. Yeah. Maybe. He hadn’t had much else to do. And he’d enjoyed his friends praise when he picked a lock, or hacked a vending machine or arcade cabinet. But it was never about what he could do, only what he could do for them. And he could do a lot. For himself, and the world in general.

    He got up and said, “I’m gonna pay my tab and head out.”

    “Have him send a couple more over would ya?”

    He waved his hand and nodded as he walked to the bar.

    1. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      I like it. A lot of fun themes here that I enjoyed; the aftermath of a job gone wrong, a morally grey character who’s becoming disenfranchised with the path they’ve chosen, as they realize that being a bad guy is more trouble than it’s worth. . .

      There’s just something intriguing about a reformed villain, or a hero who’s abandoned their moral code. . . It’s a fun way to breathe new life into an existing character, having them evolve or deteriorate into something different than what they once were, using their abilities for a new purpose. It immediately places them in new conflicts, both internal and external.

      1. Thank you!

        I’ve been having a lot of fun with Thomas. And you forget the other great part about a villain reforming: Having to fight their old “coworkers”.

    2. Villains trapped in villainy. It’s a good concept. They could be antiheroes if the system wasn’t rigged against them. Or even heroes because a LOT of villains have a gosh-darn point.

      It’s just the METHOD that often lets them down.

      I blame the concussions caused by multiple hero impacts. It has to do something to their brains. Sooner or later, you have to think that blowing up a monument is going to be more effective than using your mechanical genius to earn loads of dosh and change the world THAT way.

      1. Thank you!

        These aren’t such grand villains, where it’s their means rather than their motives. They’re very basic “Get money” villains.

        But I will give you that these two, especially Thomas, and probably others at that bar, are kind of locked into their life of crime because they lack the ability to make money in a legitimate manner.

    3. You know, it took me way, way too long to get that this was Thomas as a villain lol. I think I just assumed it was him as a hero because that’s who he is in the other stories, that I didn’t see the clear flags. I was even thinking “Why is he casually talking in a bar where a bunch of villains are. I mean… I know he used to he a villain and-… ooooooh, got it!”

      Regardless, this is done very well. It is interesting to see Thomas just kinda… done and at that point where being a hero is looking better and better. If not being a hero then not being a villain at the very least but we know where he ends up lol.

      You also do a great job of showing just how banged up the life of a villain can get. Sure, the heroes get banged up as well but it just felt more visceral from the villain point of view.

      Great story!

  9. Charlie Ford Avatar
    Charlie Ford

    The Man at the Fork

    By Charlie Ford

    “This is an interesting problem,” I thought to myself. I had lost my map a while back when a bird swooped in at me and stole it. The one path continues straight, made of gravel, and surrounding this path is a beautiful meadow filled with wildflowers and sheep grazing. The other path was marked with a skull on a spike. The path itself was made of a tangled mess of roots and stones. Around this gloomy path was a huge forest of trees and vines.

    I waited until I saw more people. After a short while, I saw a couple passing through and I said, “Which way are you going.”

    “Straight I guess,” they said and continued on. I would not satisfied until I saw someone go down the skull path. Person by person, hiker by hiker, some had kids with them, some did not, but none satisfied me by taking the road most taken. That was until I met Otto.

    Otto was a short old man with a hunched back and a cane. He had one squinty eye and sharp jagged teeth. Even though he was about the size of a mouse, he looked tough and in some short of shape for his age. I said to him, “This has got to be a long way for you, hasn’t it.”

    “Yes, it is I guess,” he spoke in a coarse, uneven, rough manner. He continued to walk passed me, but when he reached the turn he took a sharp right and continued down the skull path in an uneven shuffly manner like a turtle crawling on land. It was at that moment that I knew what I would do. I began to walk down the skull path…

    1. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      This is a fun little story. It almost seems like he’s recounting the story to a group of listeners. Particularly since he mentions the old man’s name, so it’s almost as though he got to know the man later and the people he’s telling this story to also know who Otto is. That’s a nice little detail there.
      I also like how everyone says “I guess” as if they’re not giving the lost man much thought and just carry on their way.

      A few possible errors I noticed, though:

      “none satisfied me by taking the road most taken” He wants people to take the skull road but no one does so this should probably be ‘none satisfied me by taken the road least taken’. Also the word ‘take’ appears twice in that sentence, which is a bit janky, so I’d probably restructure it a bit more.

      “in some short of shape” I assume you meant to say some ‘sort’ of shape.

      “He continued to walk passed me” it should be ‘past’, not ‘passed’.

      Other than that, this was pretty good. Keep it up.

  10. Mango Gravy Avatar
    Mango Gravy

    Convergence
    By Mango Gravy

    Dry soil and grass crunching, warm wind blowing, the sun low on the horizon and getting lower. It wasn’t a cheery mood but Cassius was never one to complain. He breathed the open air, happy to be on his feet.

    A peculiar sight caught his eye, a man stood silhouetted by the setting sun, casting a long shadow. Getting closer, Cassius saw the lines on his face, the whiteness of his hair and his hunched posture. He was so old. What was he doing out in the middle of nowhere? He should be at home in bed. But then, Cassius always loved wandering the forests no matter how often his children asked him to rest.

    He wished he’d been as adventurous in his youth, when his body wouldn’t protest his every step. Now a simple stroll through a garden would leave him bedridden for days. He had been in bed, mere moments ago, surrounded by friends and family, but had wanted to muck about under the sky at least one more time. How had he wound up here, so far from home?

    “Here you are,” the old man said.

    “Here I am indeed,” Cassius said, “And where is… here?”

    The man chuckled, “Turn around for a moment.”

    Cassius did so, and saw multiple trails cutting through the short grass, all converging on the point at which he stood.

    “I don’t understand.”

    “All roads eventually lead here. Some are short, others long and winding. Some must be forged, the undergrowth cleaved and beaten out from before you. And others are easy, as it seems the gods pave the way as you coast along. Your choices can send you down certain paths, and sometimes the world chooses for you. But no matter the unrealized possibilities, regardless of the ease or struggle, this destination remains the same.”

    “I see,” Cassius said, suddenly weary. A strange wind howled, kicking up dust and grass, and the sky grew dark as the sun dipped below the horizon.

    It certainly wasn’t a cheery mood, but Cassius was never one to complain.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      In matter of tropes, I just love those “book ends” repetitions where the beginning is echoed in the ending. Sometimes, thought, the tone is not right for a variety of reasons. Here, it is just *chef’s kiss* so good!

      I love how the entire emotionality of the story seems tied to the easy-going way Cassius sees things. The destination is the same to everyone, but we are joining him in this particular journey, so it is through his eyes that we feel this last leg of the path – and it is a good thing that he is such an agreeable person. I just find it incredibly honest and refreshing that this tale takes the reality of death and considers it in its simplicity: inevitable, certainly not a cheery mood, but, well, it is something even the one participating in it can, in a sense, enjoy. Not dread, not sorrowful. A part of life, a part of the path – indeed, the only certain part of the path.

      Great tale!

      1. Mango Gravy Avatar
        Mango Gravy

        After I’d written out the somber atmosphere, and made Cassius into an aged man who’s learned to accept the way of all life, it seemed natural to have him repeat this fact about himself. Once in the moment, as if to say “this is who I am”. Then when he learns that his time has ended, he says it again, but this time it’s “this is who I’ve always been” as if he’s appraising his life. I imagined him nodding with satisfaction as he thinks it. I would’ve put it in as well but I felt it wasn’t worth making it too blatant (also world limit lol).

        Thanks for the read, and for your thoughts.

    2. This was an interesting read. I liked the character’s description, and how he reacted to what’s happening, most people probably wouldn’t. But I especially loved the way you described all those different paths life can take, since yes, there can be a huge variety, but everyone eventually must die…
      Thinking about your theme, this could have been way more melancholy-ridden. But it was kinda nice that it wasn’t.

      Thank you for writing and sharing this.

      1. Mango Gravy Avatar
        Mango Gravy

        Somber but not melancholic is probably one of my favourite tones to write in.
        Thanks for reading.

  11. It‘s not as it seems
    By aSapling

    A story may often begin with a detailed and yet cloudy description of the weather.
    „It was raining“, or „The sun shone brightly“. But really, there is no relevance to what the weather was like in this story. For the sake of not making it overly complicated, let‘s just state that it was night time and that the moon illuminated the dark forest underneath.

    Through this very forest, a Wanderer traversed, neither strolling, nor in a hurry. He knew where he had to go, or rather, how far, and so time didn‘t really matter.
    It wasn‘t long until he reached a clearing where the path split into two. And in the middle of the two new pathways stood a creature, swallowed by the shadow of a nearby tree.

    „Ah, a traveller“, exclaimed the thing upon discovering the Wanderer. „It has been such a long time since last I saw another living being. Do tell me, what brought you here to this deserted place?“.
    There was no answer, as if the Wanderer felt hesitant to speak to the creature. Instead he had come to halt, keeping a safe distance to it.

    „Oh, do not fret. I am but a mere human.“, the thing spoke and, as it stepped into the colourless light of the moon, revealed the shape of a man. No monster nor demon, just a man. But the Wanderer still seemed hesitant. He made a step backwards, seemingly deciding that this wasn‘t a path he would take. It wasn‘t about the choice he would have had to make, it was more about the being, the HUMAN, he would need to pass.

    And so, as the Wanderer turned around to walk the path he had come, a ray of moonlight illuminated his face, for just a second. A tortured hiss escaped his mouth and the Wanderer quickly pulled the hood above his six glowing eyes.

    1. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
      Jacob Guillerey

      Nice ! Even though I enjoyed the meta commentary at the start, I do feel that it could have been played with more, breacking the 4rth wall is fun though.

      I love the cliché counter cliché of the monster being afraid of the human, and having to flee.

      But to be honest I just found it plain enjoyable to read, no hard words or weird phrase turns. And I do love a digestible text. Hope to read more of your texts in the future.

      1. Thank you very much. ^^ I will definitely take your advise in consideration.
        I am glad you enjoyed it!

    2. This is a very interesting approach to the idea of crossroads. It is not very often that people consider the way back to be one of the options. There is intrigue at the end, too, and I am made to wonder what creature the wanderer is and how long the human has remained there at the crossing. The feeling you have created suits the prompt really well!

      A few small things that I think could improve:
      The first paragraph, while it serves its purpose well, could perhaps be written a bit differently. For example, you could shorten it by simply saying what the conditions were and then dismissing them as irrelevant. Something like this: “it was a dark night and a splendid moon hung over a forest, illuminating it, though these things are irrelevant to the story”

      “Through this very forest…” Since only one forest is introduced, perhaps removing the word “very” would make it cleaner?

      Instead of “in the middle of the two new pathways”, perhaps “where the two new pathways met” would flow better?

      But I’m just nitpicking.
      Great story, good job!

      1. First of all: Thank you for your comment. I definitely plan on rewriting this prompt later on (though I want to let the official version be flawed as it is ^^). So thanks for the advise. It’s probably obvious already, but this is the first thing I’ve ever published on the internet and it is just a quick work.

  12. Mark Charles Compton Avatar
    Mark Charles Compton

    After-Sunday Supper
    By: GrimSleepy

    All these years of defiance had finally culminated to this day. My throat was tight as I swallowed the lump swelling within it. Rubbing my hands together I stretched my gaze up, reaching that high steeple gleaming in the mid-morning sunlight. Every other time its image left me with such melancholy, now replaced by a foreboding feeling. I clenched my book tightly and strode up those steps to the quiet chapel, its occupants restlessly awaiting my arrival. “I’ll show these haggardly old stiffs how to truly see the light!” I thought proudly to myself smugly smiling as I passed the threshold…

    My mind muddled and the time blurred as soon as the highest-ranking member wretched his finger at me in such a disdainful and hateful manner. The interrogation left me in a kind of timeless trance, and I felt incapable to utter a single vowel through the onslaught of accusations, which all compounded on me in a tumultuous crash when they concluded that I was to be “excommunicated” for my ‘blasphemy’.

    They were telling ME I could no longer be a member of their church?! Good riddance, I can worship in any fashion I like anyhow, they can’t tell me what I identify as or how I study any religion I study! “Ya! I probably know this book better than any of them, heck better than All of them combined” I thought vindictively.

    “ME?! You’re throwing ME out?! You’re telling me how I can or cannot worship?! Maybe I’ll become Muslim!! How about Protestant!!!” I screamed as I clambered down the stairs.

    As I was holding my Bible to the sky, belching out my uproarious tirade to the public street, a gust of wind carried a piece of paper and slapped me in the face. I dropped my book, ripped the paper off my face in a rage, and looked down upon what filthy wad of trash had interrupted my monologue. I was surprised and puzzled at what I read:

    “Dreams of Hindu”
    Authentic Indian Cuisine.

  13. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
    Matthew R. Wright

    When Lost, Join a Queue (Next Number Please)
    By Matthew R. Wright

    It was a time of uncertainty. Was just another worn-down tyre thrown to the burning pile. Directionless. Heavy at the chest. Could do with some advice. Heard there was a guy hanging out by the crossroads. A good a plan as any. Too much time inside my own head. Could lend a fresh perspective. Set me on the right path.

    Headed out of town. A long dirt road. Wasn’t five minutes before I saw it: the Queue. Must’ve been a 100 persons long. Teenager, blonde with train-track braces, handed out handwritten tickets. I was #291. Last in line. The man was named Shamus. Queue this long? Must’ve been good.

    Hours passed. With each step I got closer, the more of conversations I heard. Sounded smart enough. What was his motive for being out here? What’d he have to gain?

    Queued from dusk till around 2AM. Had nothing particular that needed doing. Became next in line. Expected to be told that he was tired. That he couldn’t see me. Got lucky. Passed him my ticket. Got to have my turn. Noticed he stood by the body of someone. Throat slashed. Blood’d turned black in the moonlight. No one had asked about him.

    “What do you need?” he asked. Wasn’t materialistic. Assumed many had asked for something from him.

    “Nothing. Direction. Something to do” I replied.

    Saw him reach inside his coat. Expected a cigarette pack or a hip flask. Pulled out painkillers. Looked him over. Dark patches under eyes. A Slow sway. A light slur to his words. Black tipped fingers. He was tired. Turned, saw least another 100 waiting their turn. Stroked the heavy at my chest.

    “Ain’t your master, you have to take what you want.” He then swallowed a half dozen painkillers. Wasn’t a great answer. Expected better. “Are we done?” he asked.

    “Yeah, we’re done.” I took out the heavy at my chest, cocked it and emptied the full magazine into his head. Fell hard. Landed on top of slashed throat. Another burning tyre.

    Turned and faced the queue. “Next number” I called.

    1. Mark Charles Compton Avatar
      Mark Charles Compton

      Painted pictures of a Road Warrior-esque world in my head, steampunk. I can’t tell if Shamus was a pusher shaman or vampire, but he certainly turned out to be one tired ‘tire’ (I’m from the US). I also cannot tell if our main character is a hero or villain. Why is this such a time of uncertainty!!!

      That was pretty intense, especially nearing and up to the end. Gritty. I liked.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I loved it. The pacing is amazing, the cutted thoughts, the arrangment of the sentences – it all speaks of one who is partially living the moment, but has no roots in it. I can feel that mixture of anxiety and the whole sense of having already kind of given up.

      And the whole thing is way smarter than it has any right to be (which is a compliment here). It seems like a longer and updated version of the saying about the blind leading the blind, and it just says a lot about generational expectations (the younger becoming the old ones, who should have their shit together, but are as lost as they were before, but now have to fake it till they believe it). And the place at the front of the line must be a very tiresome place to be indeed.

      Great tale, really interesting!

    3. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
      Jacob Guillerey

      That was trippy.
      Loved the rythm, the short sentences, hit and run, felt great to read. I do wonder why those people take turns at answering the line to give help or directions, just to be killed and replaced.
      Even though the story has me beat, the amazing quality of the words themselves and the handling of the rythm really kept me going.
      I hope to read what you write next !

  14. Meds or no meds? That’s the question
    By Vera

    I stare at the small bag of herbs. They affect the way, one’s mind reacts to the flow of time, students use it to stretch their time of study and exams to get an advantage. With the herbs, time doesn’t flow consistently, but slows down, allowing for mor work in less time.

    It’s effects are known to be addictive.

    “You don’t need this stuff, just pay better attention, as everyone else”

    As everyone else. Time doesn’t erratically dance around everyone else, it walks alongside them, always the same pace, always predictable. Reliable.

    Due to some innate condition of my mind, time doesn’t work that way for me. It slows down or speeds up randomly, or jerks around in tune with my nervous heart beat. It makes me nervous.

    “It’s just medicine” I keep telling myself. People, even in my own family take medication for chronic conditions. They get it from a healer, same as me. Only difference, my illness affects the mind, not the body. Intelligent beings are immune to ailments of the mind, right? Then why would I need this medicine, these herbs? Am I really that weak? Stupid, lazy? How di I stop being lazy?

    “If you take those herbs, there’s no coming back” they warn me. It’s true, getting away from drugs is a long way, years and decades of work. So, do I try the herbs, risk becoming their slave? Or do I return to my life as a failure, who can’t handle the simple concept of time?

    Go back to all the missed appointments, where the right time passed before it came? Disappointed family, friends? Friends that left me for my inability to change. Unwillingness, they insisted. As everyone can change, the only explanation is, I don’t want it enough. Wanting with my whole heart isn’t enough.

    The medication should solve it, it does for others with the same ailment. At the price of being considered junkies, for taking drugs abused so often by the healthy.

    If I take this step, am I a junkie? Or just a sick person, dealing with their symptoms?

    1. I enjoyed reading about the crossroad that main character stays on. Would they become productive member of society at the cost of being labeled or will they refuse label of junkie to keep themselves true, but with erratic mind?

    2. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
      Matthew R. Wright

      Interesting concept, the idea of slo-mo drugs. Would take them daily to help with just existing “Just pay better attention” is something I’ve heard alot growing up, before I was diagnosed with ADHD. Can really relate to this story. All of the character’s thoughts, all the self-deprecating ones, felt those. Your story really spoke to me. I know that I would abuse those herbs, just to be able to do what everyone else seems to be already able to do.

    3. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
      Jacob Guillerey

      The dilemma you present is quite interesting, and often is a big problem for those who face it.
      Of course I am expending it away from time perception and dilatation , but I do enjoy seeing someone write about the subject in a more approachable way, as time perception is a subject so abstract that it afflicts everyone in a similar manner to everyone, which is pretty much not at all. (of what I know at least). Making it easier to imagine it (weirdly enough).

      And the indecision is strongly felt, as you understand that the character has already pondered those questions many many times.

      Even though there were a few grammar mistakes/typos, it was great to read !

  15. Norman Gray Avatar
    Norman Gray

    “You’ll find Jimmy at the Crossroads.”
    By Norman Gray

    Through the haze of the desert heat, they could see movement up ahead.

    “That our guy?” asked Gallows.

    “Looks like it,” said Graves.

    As they approached the crossroads, it became clearer. . . They saw the flapping of a crow’s wings, as it moved to perch itself atop a slumped-over body.

    Graves pulled the car up close, and got out. “He’s dead. . . I think maybe the heat cooked him.”

    “Boss didn’t say what he was doing out here?” Gallows asked.

    “No,” Graves replied. “He didn’t.”

    Gallows rubbed at his chin. “He was supposed to be alive, weren’t he?”

    Graves shrugged. “I’m guessing so.”

    “You’re guessin’? You mean you ain’t sure?”

    “Boss just said our guy would be at the crossroads. He didn’t specify whether or not he’d be alive.” He put on his gloves. “C’mon, help me put him in the trunk.”

    The two men lifted the body into the trunk, and got back in the car.

    They drove in silence, for awhile.

    “You’re sure that was Jim, right?” asked Gallows.

    Graves sighed. “You don’t know what he looks like?”

    “I assumed you did.”

    “I’ve never met Jim. Why didn’t you mention that you didn’t know him?”

    “Didn’t think I needed to. Figured we’d just roll up and ask him, ‘hey, are you Jim?’ I wasn’t expecting a dead guy.”

    A heavy silence fell between them.

    “So, we could be driving back to the Boss with a random dead body in the trunk.”

    More silence followed.

    “Or worse,” Gallows added, “The dead fella in the trunk is Jimmy, but the Boss Man was expecting him alive. . .”

    “That ain’t worst case scenario,” said Graves. “Worst case, the guy in the trunk isn’t Jim, which would mean Jim’s still out there. Which means he’ll be dead soon enough.”

    The two men turned quiet again.

    “We should’ve waited,” said Gallows. “See if anyone else shows up.”

    “We’re in the middle of nowhere. . . It’s gotta be him.”

    They didn’t say a word for the rest of the drive. It was a long, long road back to the city.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was a mixture of funny and foreboding. So much to wonder, and yet, all I can think is how funny the bit about their names were: so Graves and Gallows are to collect a guy that may or may not be the dead body they found, all prospects from them on seem dire – there is something to be said about gallow’s humor here.

      That is, if the crow wasn’t Jimmy.

      Any way, there is a difficult balance to maintain in keeping humor and graveness (pun intended), and this was very well-done here. Great tale.

    2. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      Whenever people deicide to make comedic moments between goons in a story it’s usually hit or miss for me. Sometimes they’re funny and interesting, other times they can get annoying. I can confidently say that this story is one of those times were it works. It kind of reminds me of Vincent and Jules in Pulp Fiction, but with more of a 1930’s New York vibe. This piece is very entertaining and you did a great job writing it!

      1. Norman Gray Avatar
        Norman Gray

        I actually didn’t think of it, but you’re right about it having a Pulp Fiction vibe. . . No doubt there was some indirect influence there.

    3. Jacob GUILLEREY Avatar
      Jacob GUILLEREY

      LOVELY STORY !

      man this was fun to read. The interpretation of the prompt was exact but unlike any I’ve seen. the man at the crossroad is often alive or death itself, and here he is the entire focus of the story, without even being an interactive part of it. wonderfull.

      Norman gray, one more name to check out from now on.

      the exchanges between the two characters feel natural, fun yet foreboding.

      loved it through and through, you got yourself a new fan.

    4. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      This was a joy to read. The back and forth continually giving them more reason to doubt that they got the right guy. Then the silence at the end as neither of them are willing to say anything because it seems like everything they say makes them more doubtful.
      The man at the crossroads being a corpse to be collected is a fun execution of the prompt. Splendid work.

  16. Wrong Headed
    By Taja DaLeen

    It was terrifyingly dark, and the air tasted of rain.

    A storm was coming.

    She wondered if he already knew. But by now she only cared about escaping him, it was what she wanted, needed most.

    And she knew her beloved was waiting for her at their crossroad, so they could get away, together.

    They’d be together forever, that’s what she believed. Had to believe, to not lose her sanity.

    She still remembered how they met. She was to be wedded to him, to establish a connection between their clans, and they were a servant to him. One of those he made.

    The crossroad came closer. She knew, because she was already able to see the lantern they held. She just couldn’t see them clearly yet.

    Oh, how she longed to see them again. They always were the one good thing about having to meet him. He was just nasty, both in the way he treated her, as if she was just a prize, a pretty trinket he could own, and in the way he treated them, as if they were a tool to be used.

    She hated him, with every fiber of her being. Having to spend the rest of eternity with him was about as horrifying as it could get.

    The need to get away was stronger than anything else. She wouldn’t be able to live on if this didn’t work out.

    But reaching the light, everything fell apart. It wasn’t them waiting for her, but him.

    She was furious. “What did you do to them?!”

    Surely, he had to have done something to them. They would never disappoint her like that. Maybe he finally got rid of the tool he no longer needed? Discarded them because they grew too close to her, to his prize?

    “Darling, please. How much longer do you intend to keep this up? When will you accept their death?”

    “You’re lying!”

    This couldn’t be true. She just talked to them yesterday. She knew…

    Sobbing she broke down in the now pouring rain, and with the first crack of thunder everything faded to black.

    1. Very nice! an ominous tone right from the get-go, the desperation already clear, the mystery of what’s going on. It’s all great. Your words paint a very clear picture, although what is happening in the imagery is a little hard to tell. I feel like the story could stand on it’s own without the clan exposition, as well.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This is very, very ominuos. I’m not quite sure if I get all that is being said here, but it seems like an interesting exercise in inhabiting a mind that’s coping with a lot of pain in ways that not necessarily agree with each other. There is the whole thing about her [allegedly, quite possible] dead friends [which is is not accepting], the thing about having to now be with him [at times, her ” beloved”, which she seems to need to affirm as that; yet, clearly someone she also hates and despises]… She seems about to crack, and I can’t help but read the bit about thunder cracking them as the announcement of her finally losing it (finally? maybe she has already lost it all. If not mentally, the conditions of what she is going through certainly seems like all has been lost already). And the confusion of it all seems like we are just going through the despaired thoughts of someone who is going through a lot.

      So, well, very impactful, very lived in (in an uncomfortable way, which here is a great thing for the story, and a terrible thing for our protagonist). Great tale, not necessarily an easy reading, though!

  17. Fate’s Doorman
    By Sam C.

    Where he was, he wasn’t sure, but why he was there was the far greater question. As far as he knew, he was driving home from work when suddenly he was here, in a beige wallpapered office lobby, in which the only furniture was a counter with a bell on it.

    There didn’t seem to be anything else to do, so he approached the counter. Engraved on the silver bell were the words “RING FOR ASSISTANCE” in a fancy cursive script. Looking around and seeing nothing else, he tapped on the silver bell’s clapper.

    The resulting ring was so loud that it shook the room. From the room behind the counter came a skeleton dressed in a black robe and half-moon spectacles, like the grim reaper if he was about four-and-a-half feet tall. The skeleton looked at him and said, “Okay, Let’s get started. I am The Fate’s Doorman,” he said, clearly by rote, “You, Soul #7,975,806,230, are dead. I am here to escort you to the correct afterlife.”

    “Wait, I’m DEAD?” He asked hysterically. “Nonononono… I can’t be dead, I can’t be…” He cried, tears starting in his eyes.

    “Well why can’t you be?” asked The Doorman.

    “Well, I’ve got so much work to do, I’ve got a beautiful wife, heck, I’m only 24!” he exclaimed.

    “No,” The Doorman replied, “those are reasons you shouldn’t be dead, not why you can’t be. I’ve been doing this for eternity, and I can assure you, You are nothing new. Your wife will recover, your job will be given to someone else, and you are far from the only person to die young. You are here to pick an afterlife for yourself, that is all.”

    “Can’t I go back? Can’t I have just a little more time to say goodbye? To Hold her one last time? I’d come back willingly, just enough time to change the world, to give a little more?” he asked desperately.

    The Doorman paused a beat. “Few have convinced me. What makes you think you can?”

    “You just said few,” He replied.

    The Doorman Smiled.

    1. Jacob GUILLEREY Avatar
      Jacob GUILLEREY

      lovely tale.
      it had quite a slow start,and the protagonist seems to be a bit shallow , as his life is quite the boring one, but the personality of the skeletton gardian really shines through, and the ending gives a bit of shrewdness to the protagonist and leaves me wanting for more.

      funnily enough, I didn’t enjoy the comparaison to the grim reaper, as it usually is a terrifying figure, that contrasts a bit too much with it’s run of the mill attitude.

      but don’t take my critics as a negative, I loved the text and the tentilising concept of being able to change your death by argumentation is very fun ! good luck with your writting !

      1. That was kind of the point, making the grim reaper bored and working basically an office job.

    2. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
      Matthew R. Wright

      Love the idea of there being a waiting room type place before your afterlife, a place dull and ordinary, like an office or GP. I like how this story, which starts off tragically for our main character, ends with hope. That there might be a chance for them, even if it’s just to say goodbye to their loved ones. If this were me, as desperate as I would be to return back to my life, I don’t think I’d have the persuasion check to convince lil’death that I had a good enough reason to go back. Great idea, wonderfully executed.

    3. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      I’m getting Terry Pratchett vibes from this. While not the same as Death, you humanize their anthropomorphic representative in your story. I especially love the fact that he’s only four feet tall!

      Charmingly funny and I love the bittersweet ending. I also love how you capture the protagonist’s zeal for life, to give a little more. It’s something we can all take to heart.

      Well done!

  18. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
    Jacob Guillerey

    Chosen of War
    By Jacob Guillerey

    There were a hundred of us.
    Armed to the teeth in metal and wood, clad in bronze armor, surrounding him. The chants were deafening, claiming glory, mocking defeat, giving praise. Our brother, my brother, was standing before us, as his time had come.

    Shining in the morning sun, he stood standing, three javelins by his side, head lowered, arms resting by his sides, lost in thought. I had watched him work through every combat class, Dagger, xiphos, axe, spear, pike, buckler, tear-shield, hoplon, tower-shield, hand to hand. Sletel wasn’t the best there was, but knew when to faint, how to counter strike, and used his anger to fuel his determination. But anger wouldn’t suffice here, he had failed too many times already.
    The instructor placed his hand on Sletel’s shoulder, and handed him his first Javelin.

    After a few moments, he raised his head. We all knew what he had to do, with his three javelins, hit the heart of the three targets in the distance, and finally join the ranks of the soldiers of Parate.
    A small whispering rumor spread through the crowd as he squinted his eyes. He always had a hard time seeing what layed in the distance. After a minute, he finally put on his helmet. And turned towards us.

    “Brothers ! On this day, I do not simply challenge myself to join you in battle ! I will show the might of our mettle ! PARATE AG SLAGET !”

    Parate ag Slaget, Glory to the soldiers of Parate. As his speech finished, the winds flew stronger, and a low rumble started to rise. Stronger and stronger, our feet trembled as a terrible vibration moved the land. The winds encircled Sletel, blurring his features, all but his unnaturally bright red eyes. As we lost balance and fell, he stood against the forces and aimed his javelin. And a booming voice resonated through the rumbling ground “Ag”. He threw his javelins, one by one, hitting the targets.

    Slaget shieldbreaker, God of war, had spoken. Blood and glory would come to Sletel.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Very interesting. As a stand-alone, it seems like a very crucial moment and a powerful scene, when an exemplar warrior shows its might to his fellow brothers-in-arms in spectacular fashion. And, well, considering the names here, it also works as great foreshadowing on the way Sletel works. He is a soldier, a warrior, first and foremost. I know from the other piece that he can recognize the effort it takes for administrative work to be done, but I still don’t know if he can rise to the challenge in that very particular battlefield: battling and ruling are such different beasts!

      Anyway, that was a great slice of an epic cycle. I wonder what part of the story we will receive next.

      Great story!

      1. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
        Jacob Guillerey

        Thanks ! I’m blushing again !

        And you are right, Sletel is a soldier, in his very being. And you are also right about him maybe not being the best ruler, in many ways, but also some you still wouldn’t expect I believe, and also good at it in a few points. But you will discover more as I spread out more and more stories throughout the prompts.

        And as an added bonus, the narrator here is Morhoï. I tried to write it so that it wouldn’t be necessary to know my universe to enjoy it, but would add a bit more if you did.

        I hope to one day succeed at writing one or multiple novels about Sletel and Morhoï, and these are one sure way to motivate me !µ
        I just need to finish the chore that writting my mythology has become first. But the fact that I can start writting about them is one more motivator !

        Thanks again for your very kind words ! I always look out to read yours and C.M. Weller’s prompts every week, so I do hope that you continue writting as well ! If you’ve published a book, or are going to, i’ll be happy to buy and read it !

    2. This is interesting. I have some questions. Is the brother becoming Slaget Shieldbreaker, or was he already the deity? Also why is “Dagger” capitalised in the second paragraph? What’s with the singular “Ag” near the end?

      The war might be very interesting if they were ALL deities. What the heck kind of war would that be? Probably wind up with Mahabarata levels of Everyone Dies.

      It feels like doom is looming.

      1. Jacob GUILLEREY Avatar
        Jacob GUILLEREY

        Capitalisation on Dagger was a mistake on my part. I’m used to writting poetry quite often so a capital letter after a coma didn’t raise any alarms.

        I do belive you were a bit confused. And that is only logical.
        Sletel on this instance has been marked by The Shieldbreaker as one of his chosen.

        “Ag” might be confusing, but I tried to explain it a bit with the end of Sletel’s speech.
        “Parate ag Slaget” , glory to the soldiers of Parate, Ag means glory, Parate is the name of the country, and Slaget means two things : 1) It is the name of the god of war,
        2)but it also means “the best glory seeker in war” or “soldier”.
        But I tried to write it so you didn’t have to understand it to understand the story, I guess I didn’t do it well enough. I will try and think how to modify it.

        Even though they are not all deities, the wars to come will be very much so blessed and cursed by the 7 capital gods and their children, so yeah, some chaos is about to throw down.

  19. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    Hello, there. This was a very interesting submission. I really like how you build the scene and the realization that the protagonist is dead – there is a good mix of credible reactions while at the same time the overall tone is light and a bit carefree, specially considering the character of the Doorman.

    I’d point out two thing, thought. One is a bit of critique, the other is just something about formatting. For the critique, I think the ending was a bit on the weak side. We all have to deal with the dreadful word count and its limits, but to me it felt a bit too little for the Doorman to be moved. So, I don’t know, I really like the build-up and the way the scene is set, but the ending felt both a bit rushed and a bit on the weak side. Maybe you could end with the Doorman saying that so far, very few had being able to move him, but he was willing to listen to this man story and motives in length (which would contrast with his sense of haste from before and paint him as compassionate). Still, I don’t know.

    And a second thing, about the format. If you see the other submissions here, we usually use the two first lines for the title of the piece and the authorship. The bot that counts the words in the submission only starts counting it after the first line break (the one that is usually after the authorship). Using other kinds of formatting will confuse the bot, and breaks the pattern of reading. So, I’d suggest editing it with the “title card” so that everything is alright.

    Anyway, very interesting story, full of character. Keep writing!

    1. Hey, Thanks!

    2. Also, how do you edit a submission?/

    3. Nevermind, I figured it out.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        And let me just say, I loved the effect of this edit. There is something about both characters seeming a bit more graceful with the interaction with this ending that’s just very satisfying!

  20. Maxer4000 Avatar
    Maxer4000

    An offer
    By Maxer4000

    “Due to your failure in the mission, you’re not going to receive your payment, and of course, we don’t need to fork out for your insurance.” One of the two smarmy women talks down to a girl in trauma bed, despite being catatonic, she can still see and hear. It’s unbelievable, she was tasked to go to her assigned are and the payment would be on how many enemies her team can take down, there was no talk about failure, she was doing fine until some sort of mech stormed in, killed her comrades and left her to bleed. Now she’s screwed out of her salary and further in debt.

    That night, something lurks in the dark, sneaking into the girl’s room. She felt it, reaching for her bedside remote to turn on the light to see what it was. Beside her bed stands a man towering over her, his menacing green eye staring down at her like a predator to a prey, yet it feels familiar. A memory came, it was the same eye looking back at her when she grazed the mech’s visor, at this point she can move now, she rushes to look for something to defend herself, only to face the barrel of her own gun. “Don’t even try it, lass.” He was quicker on the draw than her “Look, how bout ya relax a bit, lie down for what I have to say, yea?” the man lifts the gun and strolls to a stool, confidently leaving his back open, the girl couldn’t do more so she obliges.

    He sits down, twirling the pistol “So I heard, somewhere on the grape vine, someone got screwed out of their money!” He looks at her with a cheeky smile, the girl’s eyes widen, the man continues “I have some offer, yea? It’s rather simple, work for me and I’ll delete that debt that sweet sheila down in Basile street owes” she falls silent, she knows he mentioned her mother. He then walks to her side “Ya can choose not to” he slides the gun under her pillow “If yes, ya know what to do, mate.”

    The next morning, gunshots were heard, two bodies painted blood on a wall, a patient went missing.

    1. Hey There! I Like the core of your story, but it could use a little more polishing. You tend to swap tenses in your sentences, and you forget to punctuate some things. This feels very nice at it’s core, although it’s clouded just a little by the grammar and formatting. Fixing that can help give your meaning some greater clarity.

  21. Fate’s Doorman, By Sam C.

  22. VulpesRose Avatar
    VulpesRose

    Rules of the Road
    by VulpesRose

    If you are driving in the rain and you come to an intersection illuminated by a single streetlight and you can’t remember the last time you saw a bus stop or a gas station, do not pull over for the man hitchhiking.

    If you do pull over, do not ask him where he is going. Simply ask if he needs a lift. Resist all urges to tell the man your destination. If he asks if you can take him somewhere specific, tell him you can only take him as far as Springfield.

    Do not let the man sit in the backseat. Insist that he sit up front, even if one of your other passengers must relocate to the back. You will have to insist. Do not take the car out of park until he agrees.

    Do not let the man adjust the radio station. Suggest a tape or, better yet, that you need to focus because of the weather. Lead an unaccompanied sing along if you must, so long as he does not change the radio dial.

    Do not take anything from the man. He may offer sweets or alcohol as payment or thanks for the ride, but do not accept them. Keep the windows rolled up while he is in the car, and refuse if he asks to smoke.

    When the road starts to feel unfamiliar, when a curve you should have reached by now fails to appear or a familiar landmark is nowhere to be found, and the icy chill that was working down your spine settles in your stomach, you might remember this advice.

    If you didn’t elaborate on your destination, your family and friends should be safe. If you made him sit in the front, your passengers may be spared. If you didn’t tune in to his radio station, all memories of you won’t vanish along with you and your car. If you didn’t accept food or drink, they may eventually find your body. But there was no saving you from this fate.

    I warned you not to stop for the hitchhiking man.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was amazing, Vulpes. It oozes danger. And the use of second person here, in this sense of a concerned advice, makes the thrill very palpable. It is directed at the reader, who may be in danger. And the detailed instructions and warnings for caution sustains the whole sense of foreboding. And, well, that last line is killer – in more senses than one. Really powerful story, and a great use of the format.

      I particularly liked the warnings about the radio, and then, when the bit with the consequences of not heeding to the warnings is revealed, the whole things about the memories. This has a very dark fae like thing going on, and it was a blast to read.

      Really, I have absolutely nothing to critique here. It is a great story, and I can’t find anything else that I can think could be better in a different way. Amazing tale, foreboding warning.

      I will remember not to stop for this particular hitchhiking man in such eerie circumstances in a rainy night.

    2. Sniperaxiom Avatar
      Sniperaxiom

      I love the payoff with the reasons behind these seemingly random warnings! The last line is wicked sick too. :D. Now I can only think about a passenger spares in the backseat while this is all going on.

    3. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      This is an excellent horror story! You use repetition of warnings that echoes the hallmarks of repetition used in fairytales and folklore horror stories. You wrap things up neatly with the next to the last paragraph as you explain the warnings and how they shape things even after the character’s abduction by the strange man. Your pattern of repetition in warnings creates an excellent rising action and building dread about the mysterious man. You also really added in some good descriptor elements like if you can’t remember, “the last time you saw a bus stop or a gas station” or the lack of landmarks in the rain add in elements all add to the eerie dislocation of setting that builds the horror of the story well. All in all a masterfully told story in the vein of campfire tales!

    4. Charlie Ford Avatar
      Charlie Ford

      This is a great story and I love the way it is written. It is a perfect example of a story in the second person. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this story. I also like how you don’t reveal the consequences until it is too late for him to do anything about it. Keep Writing!!!

    5. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      The idea of a hitchhiking serial killer is scary enough, but a killer who’s of some kind of mysterious supernatural otherness is even more frightening. . . It adds a greater sense of helplessness, not knowing what he even is, if he’s even human in the most literal sense.

      I couldn’t help but be reminded of Riders on the Storm by The Doors. . . “There’s a killer on the road. . . His brain is squirming like a toad. . .”

      I like to think our narrator is some kind of supernatural detective, tasked with tracking down this killer.

    6. What a well-written story.
      I was hooked from the first sentence on. The way the tention is built slowly, with every paragraph is really subtle and the peak at the end works incredibly well. I personally love the last sentence the most. It feels like a spell-breaker and when I came to that point I really had forgotten about it being mentioned in the first paragraph. So there really was this moment of realization for me.

      Though not described in an emotional way, there really is a lot of atmosphere and suspense.
      The fact that it is about a hitchhiker à la Jeffrey Dahmer is already brilliant in the first place. It really made me want to read more!

    7. Mr DeBlob Avatar
      Mr DeBlob

      This was an enthralling story, practically a modern-day fairy tale, though I suppose more of a warning than a tale.

      You really tapped into that unnerving and mystical feeling of old wives’ tales, capturing the sense of old folklore despite the distinctly contemporary tone to it. Each rule progressively getting more insistent and desperate really adds to it, and those final three paragraphs nail in just how terrifying this man/entity truly is.

    8. This is sheer brilliance! I love the way you’ve built mystery up along the way, presenting some means of “escape” only to reveal that the first bit of advice was the only one that really mattered. The little details are so well-written and the seemingly arbitrary bits of advice really come together in a spectacular fashion in the end.
      I especially like that though the mystery is “resolved” at the end, it just creates even more mystery instead! Very well done, cheers!

  23. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “Bounty Hunter”

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    The man was dressed in an old ragged duster coat spattered with patches. He had drawn a pistol and levelled it at my head with a shaky grip. I put my hands up showing I was no threat.

    “I would know the name of my killer,” I said.

    “Jareth,” the man said without fanfare.

    My heart pounded, but I took a deep breath. “Jareth. You fire that thing in here and you’re likely to puncture the hull or a window of the space station, because we’re close to the station’s exterior. You’d likely kill yourself and several others here along with me.”

    “I – I won’t miss,” Jareth said.

    The man didn’t appear to be wearing any armor to protect him from weapon fire or blades. Nor did he appear to be wearing anything that would block my telepathic abilities. His hand holding the gun shook slightly. I wondered how much this would-be bounty hunter had really prepared when he set out to capture me.

    “Just come with me, let me collect the bounty. I don’t have to shoot anyone,” Jareth said. His gaze shifted about, watching for any sudden moves by the other patrons of the dingy diner.

    I concentrated my thoughts. His gun turned into a snake, and he flinched throwing the gun across the room with a clang as it struck the wall and fell to the ground. He didn’t seem to have realized I could alter his perceptions. He just stood there with a stunned horrified expression on his face. I focused my mind again, and vanished from his sight. Of course, the other patrons could see me rise from my seat just fine, but they didn’t want to get involved.

    Jareth, having recovered, lunged forward at where I had been, and wrestled with the empty bar stool. I quickly exited the diner out into the space station promenade. I merged and blended into the crowd. I hoped this would be the last inept would-be bounty hunter I would have to deal with during my visit to this space station.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This seems like a mix of space opera and western – which is a good blend for a story. I really like it. You start strong and it never loses the pace. I love how the descriptions color the dialogue. The gunman is not just answering, he is being laconic and with an attitude – the stuttering in his next line seems to indicate he is trying to play the part of the hard killer he is not.

      The whole exchange seems like it could develop into a stand-off (and it would be an interesting think to see a stand-off where one of the duelists is not armed!), and then we have the revelation of the narrator being a telepath. It comes very naturally, and although afterwards the balance of power seems to be a foregone conclusion, it was very interesting to see how it happened nonetheless.

      Great tale, Arith. Very well-written, very engaging.

    2. Interesting that they know each other if your protagonist dismisses them as an “inept bounty hunter”. They might have a deeper history than this encounter. Maybe they used to be friends? Or more than friends?

      The potential is interesting.

      Also there’s several very good reasons not to use projectile weapons in space and you nailed one of them 🙂 Well done. The other one has to do with inertia, action and reaction, and needs a lack of gravity to be a big problem.

      If your protagonist could alter Jareth’s perception the whole time… why not just vanish? [but then there wouldn’t be a story, shut up ‘Nutter]

    3. VulpesRose Avatar
      VulpesRose

      I love a merging of genres, and the sci fi western is a favorite of mine.

      I’m so interested in what led up to this encounter. Is the narrator’s bounty unclear on their abilities? Is Jareth just really bad at his job? At first I thought that Jareth was afraid of the narrator, but it seems like he was perhaps just a novice and completely unprepared for what he was facing.

      I find it amusing that the narrator only hopes that this is the last “inept would-be bounty hunter” they will meet and not just, the last bounty hunter of any skill set they will meet. It makes me wonder if they enjoy the chase a bit, or perhaps are waiting for someone in particular to come after them.

      I’d be very interested in a confrontation between this narrator and someone who knows what they are doing.

  24. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    Titans at the Threshold
    by Aracnarquista

    Sensorial perception fades, and I fade with it. As I fall in this vast void, memories are left behind – the iv dripping cold moisture in my arm, the warm comfort of the bed, the cacophony of beeps of the monitor machines… all displaced in favor of the Message. Which is what I am now.

    I come to be at what I expect to be the Threshold. It seems as if nothing here waits for me. Yet, I know the silent Giant expects the Message. No, not a Giant. There are Giants, battling in the checkered battlefield; but the majestic figure supervising the battle is Titanic. Clad in Darkness, concealed in hood and cloak, she is the receiver… a counterpart to the immortal who imbued me with the Message.

    The Black Titan spends a moment observing the battlefield – a lifetime, a parcel of Planck time, an eternity. A moment which spans beyond any measure. Who am I, what am I, to read such a grave countenance? Alas, I ponder on that immensity. Graveness and playfulness mixed into something else. Passion, perhaps? Presentness? While I muse these things, the Titan raises her visage to me.

    Expressing what exists concealed in those robes is impossible. What was revealed to me does not concern communication. My experience was beyond memory itself. Yet, I know the words the Titan in Black utters to me, a language older than any language. My time at the Threshold is at an end. I will not cross it, I will be sent back. The words she utters next are not for me, but I remember the code. I am once again a Messenger.

    Back then, to the world of the living. The beeps, the cold wetness in my arm. A jolt in my chest. A miracle, people would say afterwards. I see the face of a man, an immortal clad in the white robes of a doctor. Without a thought, my tongue conveys the Message of the other Titan: Bxd4. The Titan in White smiles, rejoicing in my survival, yet mostly in the continuity of their game.

    1. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      The description of the battlefield feels like a mix between an event from a Greek epic and a setting from Alice in Wonderland. The whole thing seems written in such a way that one could almost see this as a fantastical telling of someone’s experience in a hospital. At least for me, it has a sort “it might be or it might not” kind of feel similar to that of the more supernatural elements of the 2013 Lone Ranger film. Overall, great job.

      Also, due to the similar setting and premise, I have to ask, does this have any connection to your prior story of the doctor wanting a dying patient to deliver Death a message? Were they both inspired by the same thing, or perhaps from one another?

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Well, you got me. It is related to the other story, and in my mind, Dr. Finito and the one recognized here as the Titan in White are the same person. It is just that in the first story he has no way of contacting Death, and here I’m entreating the idea of a way for them to set up a new game, even though the doctor is barred from death and Death is… well, Death.

        When I wrote that other piece, I had the idea of writing a sequel that would be, in-universe, a fictional tale written by the doctor as something like wish-fulfillment. And the idea stuck – it might not have come as I initially imagined, but this is the result of that idea.

        So, yes, this one was inspired by the other one (“en passant, desperado”, which was written for the A Reward You Will Regret prompt), and it was further inspired by a recent stay in the hospital as well.

        And, well, I’m curious on how it works as a) a stand-alone piece; and b) as a sequel. Usually, I don’t write (at least, here) connected stories, but I have ideas for some. Still, I wouldn’t want them to have prerequisite readings.

        Anyway, thanks for the comments. I had a lot of things in mind for the battlefield scene (such as describing variations on the chess pieces, the Giants, and the movement the Message caused), but the word count certainly wouldn’t allow for it. In fact, in my first version, there was a representation of the Doctor in the Threshold, to make a contrast between the players and to better sell the idea of a chess game, but I had to rewrite it without this element so as to fit the limit.

    2. Wait a second. I remember there was a story about a man who won immortality via a chess game with death. Is this related? That Bxd4 bit in the last paragraph sounds like it could match a chess game.

      It’s at this point that I must fully confess that I am chess illiterate and it’s entirely possible that I did not connect ANY dots at all. Though there are a lot of chess metaphors early on. I think. Checkered battlefield is a big one.

      Similarly, black cloaked figure in a hood definitely == Death.

      I feel sorry for the protagonist. Nothing more than a messenger, but they have to die every single time. That has to suck.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        You are completely right! This one is related to the one about the man who won immortality in the chess game – that man is the doctor here, and yes, Bxd4 is chess notation for moving the Bishop to the d4 square, capturing the piece that’s there. The idea here is that this man (at the crossroads of life and death) manages to send the move of the Doctor to Death, and return with Death’s move. I’d say that probably the next move would need to be conveyed through another terminal patient, but your interpretation is also quite interesting – I tried to play with the whole idea of the dying person being just the messenger of it all (there is a bit of cosmic horror attempted here), but he being THE messenger and needing to basically stay at the frontier of life and death just for the game… oh, that’s way, way bleaker than what I thought (and I love it).

        To be true, I don’t think there are a lot of chess metaphors – I’d love to make the whole image clearer, but the word count didn’t allow for it. Anyway, thanks a lot for the reading and the feedback!

    3. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I really like this story for its surreal and vivid imagery. The details of the fading away as the character dies, only to be followed with strange checkerboard giant filled battle field. I got that this was a chess game, and that it was a continuation of the an earlier story with the immortal doctor. It’s really interesting to see how the message reached death from that story, and how it answers back in chess code.

      One minor thing, you mention Planck time in a series of long time concepts (lifetime, eternity). I was a bit confuse as I thought Planck time was the smallest measurable unit of time, just as Planck length is the smallest measurement of distance. So I wondered why a really short period of time was part of a list of long periods of time?

      Regardless this was a fun and engaging story, with some really vivid imagery of both death and the afterlife chessboard. Well done! 🙂

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment and the feedback. I was very curious on how well this story would work, both as a sequel and as a stand-alone. It is the first time I post a sequel here, and I usually am overly critical with sequels requiring previous readings as prerequisite (I’m not sure if I did not fall for this sin here).

        The thing about Planck time, yup, it is the smallest possible unit of time that still makes sense – and I went for something even minor than that (a parcel of Planck time). My idea was to mix scales of time, the immeasurably great and the immeasurably small, to paint the idea that time itself is strange in the presence of Death. But the idea seemed better in my head than I managed to execute it. Not enough words and all that – and I believe most people will read “a lifetime” as a long span of time, while in my head it basically means a span of time that is not chronologically consistent, and is more a way of evaluating time (perhaps I was thinking of Sandman’s Death saying to the dead newborn that he had what everyone has, a lifetime). So, the idea was, an incommensurable long span of time where time itself makes no sense, and incommensurable short span of time where thinking of time is for all intents and purposes an error, and a time which can be thought as time, but it is more an intensity in relation to time. Death ponders on his move in all these dimensions, and the experience of how long does it take is just unexplainable.

        But, yeah, I can see how that was not what was ultimatelly conveyed there.

        Anyway, thanks a lot for the comment and feedback. It is very appreciated!

    4. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
      Jacob Guillerey

      That is indeed an important crossroad. Death as the crossroads was something I had thought of too for my story, but I thought that someone else would tell such a story, and I was not dissapointed.

      Lovely story, even though I couldn’t help laughing, thinking that “Bxd4” was simple heard as “brlgh” by the people that reanimated the main character as though they had just coughed a breath out.

      Even though you said on the server that you tried something new, you still kept your usual quality and it felt very good to read. I got lost a bit as I often do in ore “esoteric” texts so I don’t have specific critics this time. A lovely self contained story. Well done !

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment and the feedback. In fact, this piece is something like a sequel for another story I’ve posted in the past (the one for the prompt A Reward You Will Regret, which deals with the doctor in this story), which might clarify some of the more cryptic things in it. And I can’t help but chuckle with that idea – the emergency team would certainly just get the mumbled vocalization of a near-death man coming to his senses after a defibrilation – the doctor, though, has had a lot of time to learn how to interpret strange things (and that’s not even saying his obsession with all things death and chess).

        Thanks for the kind words!

        1. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
          Jacob Guillerey

          I missed that prompt, I’ll check it out later !
          you’re most welcome !

          1. Aracnarquista Avatar
            Aracnarquista

            No problem at all. I’d post a link here for the story if links were allowed. But this story was also read on the stream on the week it was on – I believe it is something like… three or four prompts ago.

    5. Hah! This is genius.

      I love the throwback to the older prompt. At first I didn’t know what this was, but the chess game was very clear. Until it was all cleared up in the end!

      My favorite part is how you described the moment they saw death looking down on them, and they are smaller than even chess pieces. I’d like to think that it’s flattering to be important enough for the game to continue, but it WOULD get annoying after a while, wouldn’t it? And the description of a moment in time moving in such a way that it can be felt by the main character, and them reflecting on their position as a messenger between a living immortal human and Death, the Guide to the Eternal!

      This poor person! XD

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot!

        Yeah, it certainly is a poor place to be, that of the Messenger. In my mind, he has just done it this once – the doctor would be kind enough (and careful enough with his moves – he needs time to think on those) to wait for another patient at death’s door to convey his next move… still, it is a very strange place to be, reduced to just the carrier of such a packet of information as a chess move – and in the moment of one’s death, to boot.

        This was a fun one to write, though it comes more as a reflection on the way one loses a lot of agency over oneself when in a hospital bed.

        Thanks again for the comment and the kind words!

    6. VulpesRose Avatar
      VulpesRose

      As soon as I read “checkered battlefield” my brain pinged your previous story and I was so excited!

      I think this works well as both a standalone and as a follow up to that one. There is more than enough here to understand the chess game between a doctor and death, played by an intermediary of a dying patient, but knowing the previous story gives a bit more depth to the whole situation. I don’t think knowing the other story is necessary to enjoy this one, but I am biased as I do remember that story and thought of it immediately.

      My one, minor, minor critique is saying “memories are left behind” in the second sentence, because this is immediately followed by descriptions of sensations rather than memories. I suppose both are being displaced, and its perfectly reasonable that the narrator will in fact remember those things about the hospital, but as those things seem to be the immediate present that the narrator is slipping away from it felt a tad off. Possibly because of the hyphen, I expected descriptions of memories that were being lost to follow. Again, super minor, but it did trip me up a tick.

      I like your use of unexpected capital letters as it really gives those things Significance and Importance within the story. I love the instant recognition that the doctor is immortal, and love the description of his attire as robes (this could be a fantasy setting with doctors wearing actual robes, but my mind immediately accepted that this was just a guy in a doctor’s coat, but that the experience of visiting the threshold gave the patient the perspective to see the doctor as the Titan in Black’s counterpart, robes and immortality and all, even if the patient was previously unaware that the doctor was immortal and if the doctor looked normal to everyone else).

      I think I liked this one even more than the previous story. Using the patient forced to play intermediary as narrator was such a great choice, and your word choice always leads to such evocative stories. All around, great job this week. This was a fun one (although perhaps less fun for the narrator)!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment and feedback, Vulpes!

        I think it was a fun thing to choose this particular story to do my first follow-up here. And I’m glad it seems to work both as a follow-up and as a stand alone.

        About that critique: there is a bit about how we conceive the word memories, but it is fair critique. I didn’t want to build much in the way of character for the Messenger – so dealing with the more immediate things seemed like a good way to both avoid describing their previous life before (keeping him a bit like a projective test where the reader could fill the blanks however they like), and also setting the whole “death at the hospital bed” thing in the few words we have. Still, it is true that it might be a bit strange to use those particular memories (quite recent, quite immediate) as the examples of the patient fading into the whole of just the Messenger. I think what I had in mind was trying to say that this last memories were the last to fade – and all before was already unavailable anymore (though the Messenger will remember the Doctor, but maybe that is because the Sender is one element of the Message), but I get what you are saying.

        About the doctor’s robe – that might have been unintentional, in a sense. I really don’t know the proper and more common words to refer to a physician work attire in English, and I had a bit of a difficult time in trying to search for it. So the idea that the clothes could be taken as a more fantastical version of his normal work attire or as those aren’t exactly what I was going for (still, I like the idea, and as ever, the text is the ultimate authority on the tale). I guess I didn’t realized at first that the word I was searching for was coat!

        Thanks a lot again. These critiques and comments are great for me to think and rethink on how my writing is developing, and I’m incredibly glad with how careful and amazing these feedbacks are!

    7. Another really good one. I love the feel this story has, something flowing, soft, somewhere between mystery and fairy tale. You’re exceptionally good at pondering highly philosophical questions, and I’m all in for those.
      But the best part about this was that in the end, those two Titans were “just” playing chess. It’s hilarious.

      Thank you for writing and sharing this! I greatly enjoyed it.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment and the feedback. I love to write those stories – the whole idea of trying to squeeze some questions and thoughts into narrative is really gratifying (even though sometimes they can feel like a chore, most often than not they feel more like a puzzle) and I’m happy there is appreciation for it in its reading end as well.

        And, well, the chess thing was planted in the previous story, and I just got the idea of writing a series of short stories all focused in the theme of games and how they are experienced (of course, they are just one recurring theme, one of the pieces in the board – but it is great to have a bit of a restriction as a way of directing ideas), and keeping up with that game motif is just something that is in my mind a lot.

        Thanks a lot for the comment and feedback!

  25. Reinkarnitor Avatar
    Reinkarnitor

    The City

    by Reinkarnitor

    The City was unforgiving. Mary knew that when she first arrived here. A mistake here was a mistake forever and there was no chance you could ever redeem yourself. Despite that, she decided to come here. She was after all a prodigy in her town, and everyone congratulated her when she got the chance to leave that poor life behind. Surely, she would not crumble in the city.

    What an amazing illusion that was, a lie she told herself, like so many others did. In the end, the City swallows all these youngsters full of dreams and only a few can reach the top of the food chain, where the rich and mighty reign.
    Now she was at the bottom, where the gangs and punks ruled. People filled with cybertech, and implants, each one looking more eccentric than the last.

    She could go back but…the shame was too much for her. She thought she would be different, yet she was just as delusional as everyone else.

    That’s how she got into this bar, to forget some of her sorrows…but instead met him.

    Even with all the people she has seen here so far, this guy was different. He seemed to have little in common with a human anymore, his entire body seemed to be encased in a metal armour, even his face was hidden behind plates, which only slightly moved when he spoke with a rough metallic voice:

    “Would you like to earn yourself a bit?”

    “Meaning?”

    “You look like another one of those who went through the City’s mechanisms and got thrown out. And people like you often have many…skills. Skills that could be useful for my line of work.”

    She hesitated.

    “You either go home, stay here and get drunk…or you come with me, and I will give you a chance to become a legend after all…and stick it to those rich guys who deemed you not good enough.”

    That did it. Her hesitation was gone as she rose from here seat.

    The City was unforgiving. But maybe…she just got another chance…on that road she chose.

    1. Really good, we quickly get that cyberpunk vibe from the description. An interesting metaphorical crossroad where your character has to choose for her future.

      Good job !

    2. Nice to see a cyberpunk/dystopia twist to the prompt. I know that when the stream was discussing this, a lot of us had ideas involving the Fae. Or meeting the devil. Though this stranger who’s not exactly human could easily be a devil in disguise.

      I get the feeling that Mary is in for a deal she may regret.

      That ellipsis before “skills”. That has MENACE.

    3. I really like this, where a person at a crossroads takes a darker path for themselves. The exposition is very nice and gives a sense of a larger world outside the story. It’s very cool, and yet grounded. Overall a very nice piece of work.

    4. I loved the Cyberpunky twist. Point of desperation. Mary going through what I believe is Corpo mill to just be spewed out and necessity to turn around and starting to climb the ladder of the City in different way.

  26. J. J. Peterson Avatar
    J. J. Peterson

    The Way Back
    J. J. Peterson

    The weary traveller stumbled up to the crossroads, almost falling, but he managed to catch himself on a weathered wooden post. He sat down and emptied his canteen, the last few drops wetting his parched tongue.

    The path behind him extended straight as far as the eye could see across seemingly endless plains of parched dirt and withered grass. Before the man stood another three paths, joining with the one he came on in a perfect cross. A small, shrivelled green man came silently out of the forest to his left

    “Good afternoon traveller,” the small man rasped in a clear, but overused voice.

    Startled, the man jumped up, hastily dropping his canteen in his pack and hiking it back on his shoulders, “H-Hello.” The man stared around wild-eyed and weary.

    “I mean you no harm,” the small man said with a slight bow, “Only advice. You have three options before you and danger is certainly hurtling down the trail after you.”

    Our weary traveller looked behind him suddenly, startled, but the shrivelled man continued on unperturbed: “You have three choices. You can go right and traverse through the mountains inhabited by the cave trolls, but they say the paths are littered with skeletons. You could keep going straight, but no one has ever come back alive. Maybe it’s because there’s a paradise at the end of the road, but the path probably goes on forever. Or you could follow the path to your left, it’s a rough road with many roots, but after three days’ travel you’ll reach Insal, the town of many pleasures. Make your choice quickly, I sense danger fast approaching down the way you came.”

    The goblin scurries into the trees to the left and the traveller hesitates for a split second before following the goblin down the path through the woods. I step out into the open and whistle softly, a smile on my face. The trees shift, closing the path behind the man, and I turn down the way he first came. He never considered turning around.

    1. After reading this, the first word out of my mouth was a sharp “what”. The surprise inclusion of the narrator as an actor in the story is fun, and little green men are always a treat, overall the story is presented well as part of a fairy tale. That said, it feels like the important events are outside of the scene we see, or rather it’s unclear what the consequences of his decision are (which I guess is my way of saying I want to know more). Though I guess that’s the nature of being at a crossroads. Fun little tale, look forward to seeing more!

  27. OcculticZ Avatar
    OcculticZ

    A Choice Between Lives
    By Occultic;Z

    “I died again, didn’t I?” I sat on the crystalline block as these defeated words left my lips. I looked out across the infinite void of colours that expanded ever onwards before me, a sight I had grown to comprehend. I turned my head back to look at Her.

    She did not say anything. She didn’t need to. She just gave me that same look of pity that She always did and began to rest Her hand on my back. The touch made me crumple inside.

    I had been to this place far too often. I’d grown rash in my behaviour. I had started to take Her kindness for granted.

    “You know… the offer still stands,” she said to me, her voice echoing with as gentle a charm as a wind chime. “you can always take the other option.”

    “No.” I turned away from Her with a scowl. I think deep down, She already knew this would be my response. Yet every time I came here, She offered. “This time will be different. This time I can save her.”

    I wiped my cheek from a tear that I only now noticed. How long it had been there, I do not know.

    “Hmm? How might you be so sure of that?” She asked. It was in her apathetic tone, but I knew she had great hope for me.

    “Because it needs to be different. I need to be different. I have to save her.”

    I felt Herdrift back away from me. My own words rallied me. I shot to my feet and gave a last look at the void I hoped not to see again for a long time. Not until I was victorious.

    I turned to Her. She smiled. “Very well then. As is required of me.” She said as she stretched out her arms. Her presence radiated stronger than ever. Her voice began to boom.

    “As is the same when all living things come to an end, a choice is granted. You may move on to your next life, or you may repeat your last. Which shall it be?”

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, this is amazing. and so, so ominous. I wonder if the narrator remember all, or just remembers when they come to the End? This is at once so hopeful and so dreadful… I can’t help but imagine the whole idea of the Nitzschean Eternal Recurrence, and well, this is an interesting take on it (not sure if intentional or not. either way, a very interesting take on it).

      Great tale here, and I just love this Death. Seems a lot like the one from Sandman (not a lot of depictions of a compassionate Death in most media, it seems…).

      Great story!

  28. l’endroit où être
    by Donovan

    The streetlamps emit pale halos, the mist interrupting the light’s normal routine of straight lines. The night sky is overcast, so only the faint glow of where the moon must be is visible through suspended water. The paving stones are damp, and glimmer like the surface of a slow-moving river. You’ve been in this city before, only once or twice. You’re here now just for one night, as a stop on a longer journey. You’re not sure where in the downtown you are, but not in a way that worries you. As you pass down a side street a warm glow pulls your gaze. Between dark doorways and dwellings, at the bottom of a building that seems to meld into the mass of three-story city dwellings around you, there is a café, or maybe a restaurant. It only strikes you now how hungry you are, and the convenience of the timing and location is too much to resist. You don’t notice then, but later when you remember it you’re struck by how empty it was, how not even the sound of distant cars or people permeated that silent street. Above the glowing windows you can just make out the name of the place, a French name, though you are not in a French city. You pause for a moment before opening the door, experiencing the strange feeling that this is one of the moments in your life that you will not forget, something with magnitude. The air feels heavy, and your head feels light. Then you pull, and the door opens.

    The air that fills your lungs at the first breath seems thick with a mix of scents so palpable and complimentary that it can’t be anything but designed. Airy notes of mint and sugar are balanced by an undercurrent of pepper and wine. The light seems dim, but warm, you think of candle-light, but without the flicker. Somewhere deeper into the place you can hear the faint half-echoes of a quiet conversation. To your right a woman rests behind a small stand.

    “Table for one?” she asks.

    1. OcculticZ Avatar
      OcculticZ

      Very intriguing. It’s not very often I get to read something in the second tense so when I do, it always brings its own uniqueness!
      I love the tension of this story. I felt like everything ran smoothly to the point where it was almost too good to be true, waiting for something to go wrong. But in the piece itself, nothing really does. Maybe I’m just a tense and pessimistic reader? or maybe there is weight to the words too good to be true.

      A very enticing piece with a great vibe!

    2. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      I enjoy how you describe the street lamps and the light they emit. I also like how you have taken a unique spin on the tern “crossroads” as no literal crossroads appear, but he still has another choice, although there doesn’t seem to be much consequence either way he chooses. Good job!

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Really great use of the second person here. I love how alive every experience here feels, how personal, how it all seems like, yeah, this is a moment you’ll remember.

      Very mundane, very simple and self-contained, but very magical nonetheless. Heavy with that fantastical feeling of the real moments which don’t need anything out of the ordinary to be fantastical. And so, so very well-written. This was a pleasure to read, very enjoyable. Really “the place to be” (in fact, the whole building of the experience as the place to be – after all, the whole walking in the unknown place of the city and building up that hunger so that the serendipitious meeting with the place can happen – that’s all part of the experience, the “place” that is worthy to be remembered afterwards).

      Great narrative. Amazing reading!

    4. Mark Charles Compton Avatar
      Mark Charles Compton

      This was very mesmerizing, kind of ‘wafting’ at me in layers. Kept me wondering what was next and comforting me with pictures of nostalgia. Really, is there any other place to be?

      I am uncertain if spacing would take away from the experience, but that would be the only critique I can think of currently.

  29. Humility

    By jgjgj

    Disorientation like a man stuck under the waves has my mind pulled every which way, peeling my cognition back to its rawest form I forget everything that happened in the space of time before, & continue to struggle with reality in front of me.

    As effects begin to subside, my senses begin to dilate to my surroundings.

    I signal to move my hand but I feel no wind or inanimate to catch it, I breathe but feel no oxygen pierce my nose. I slither but I do not fall on the floor or become conscious of my body. I move my lips in a chewing motion as if to speak, but I hear nothing. I lean to hear but I hear only deafening darkness and isolation.

    “A nightmare,” I articulately convey to myself. “But how do I feel so calm?” I say to myself, dooming my original conclusion.

    “You are not dreaming, or in a nightmare, you are only vexed,” I say to myself– oddly.

    “You have left your previous world, and have arrived at Purgatory,” “How do I know this? How did I die? What is this thing possessing-” “You have no need to think such inconclusive thoughts, you are only to acknowledge & listen.” The demon says to me.

    “I am no demon, and I am not here to sentence you to suffer. In words of truth, I am here to offer you a choice of existence.” “I do not need to pay your understanding any mind, because ultimately either option will bring clarity with time.” The deity declares.

    “You have two options; continue to live an impoverished life of an ordinary soul, or steal the life of a soul to achieve a life of great purpose.”

    My stream of consciousness pours back in- I don’t seek to find any other answers but to this one- & I already have the answer dedicated to my subconscious; and so choose-

    Sweat trickles down the back of my neck, as I wake up in a cold sweat from my nightmare. I feel the covers touch my sweat-covered legs, my skin feeling the temperate warm temperature of summer, and the pleasure of being in my own body again giving me a warm chuckle. It was just a dream.

    The pitter-patter of footsteps comes to alarm me, & I rise to combat but fall as if from exhaustion. Two foreign faces acknowledge my presence in surprise as if I were a Spectre, & wept tears of joy, and hugged me! I was confused; but in laying in silence, I realize, touch my face-, and wept.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was an interesting read. Not necessarily an easy one, but a very interesting one.

      I’m not sure if the language implied at the beginning is intentional or not – there is some measure of strangeness that makes it more dreamlike, but it also makes it very, very difficult to correctly parse. And the language changes by the end, when the character is awaken. Also, really powerful way in conveying that by stealing the life of another, he is now living that life (if my interpretation is correct).

      I really liked the idea of the choice and the whole thing about the voice being himself, a demon, a deity… whatever it could be. The dreamlike confusing quality of it all is heightened due to it, and there are some sentences that are just brilliant. I particularly love this part: ” “But how do I feel so calm?” I say to myself, dooming my original conclusion. ”

      Very interesting reading. A bit confusing, but incredibly interesting.

    2. As Anarquista said, you did a good job making the initial sequence feel dream-like. Something that struck me a bit though is the title “Humility” given to a piece where the decision that the POV character makes is the remarkably less humble option. Does the title refer to a lesson of humility that the character will learn, dealing with the consequences of his decision? Or is the title more representative the character’s dismissiveness of a humble life, the humility he throws away to achieve a greater purpose? Or maybe I’m rambling and it’s neither, cool story!

      1. It was a lesson of humility that I would imagine he would learn when his decision finally is made clearly apparent to him in living in a body that is not his own.

        I would imagine his ‘parents’/’family members’ might see that he’s possessed if in a religious setting, or perhaps in a more scientific society, they would declare him to have amnesia.

        But as he is living a life of supposed purpose, he will eventually have to learn to confront this taboo- or fall behind.

  30. An old Favour (Darkspell Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    It would have been a dark and stormy night, if the weatherman had been right. Unfortunately, people with actual precognisant powers had better job offers than ‘weather forecast’, given how rare they were. A shame, if Max was honest. The world could use more magic-wielders who didn’t try to be heroes.

    He tied the final string around a stick and stood in the middle of the crossroads, folded his fingers and began chanting. It was an old chant, deep and sonorous, reverberating through the surrounding air, causing leaves and the string to vibrate intensely. As the chant reached a crescendo, waves of air rushed through to him from four corners and when he finished, he was no longer alone.

    The newcomer was dressed in formal clothing, which had once seen better days. He staggered for a bit, almost falling over, before catching himself. For a moment, he just looked around, trying to get his bearings.

    “It’s been a while since I’ve been summoned like this, Max Zwickau” he said, patting his coat down. “Bloody Exile, it had to be you.”

    “Aw, come on, have I made that bad an impression on you?” Max couldn’t help but grin.

    “You little… ugh,” the man had just stepped into a puddle. “What do you want?”

    “Call in my favour.”

    “You couldn’t have just called me?”

    “What guarantee do I have that you won’t hex my phone?”

    “My word?”

    “You are literally two-faced.”

    At this, the man cocked his neck and hitched up the collar of his coat.

    “Fair. Well?”

    Max breathed in deeply, knowing he had to choose his words carefully. He only had one chance to phrase the information he needed, exactly the way he needed. One favour, one question. No do-overs.

    “I have a question for the Weaver. There is a weapon. A scythe, belonging to the Last, the lord of reaper-kind. How do I find it?”

    “Ooh, the Scythe,” the man cocked his head to the side. “For someone special?”

    Max said nothing.

    “Alright, keep your secrets. You’d better get out some paper. I’m only going to say this once.”

    1. OcculticZ Avatar
      OcculticZ

      For such a short piece, this gave a lot of great lore for the universe, especially the opening. A simple little addition which filled the reader in on the state of magic, specifically precognisant power users and their status in the world.
      The scythe itself packs its own tale. Again, a lot said about it in such a short time. I am curious and hope to read more from this universe in future from you!

    2. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      Magic, summoning chants, and the like are usually used in a medieval setting, but I like how you combined it with a modern setting by mentioning the phone. I also like how there is a larger significance hinted at throughout the whole story. The puddle incident was funny. Good job!

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Ok, the beginning was golden. It hooks us perfectly, and sells the story just by itself. Really funny, really good way of setting the tone and the setting, and very engaging. And the story keeps pace with that brilliant beginning.

      That being said, I’m pretty sure the comma in “The world could use more magic-wielders, who didn’t try to be heroes” is not necessary…

      Well, anyway, there is a lot of very clever choices in building context with very few words. Great use of the short format.

      I’m at a loss of words to say how engaging and great I think this one is. Really, really amazing tale.

    4. It’s been said before, but the intro for this story was amazing. It gives you just enough information that you know exactly what you’re about to get into. You know you’re in a world of magic users and you introduce that Max might not be exactly morally flawless. And you did so with a very entertaining tone.

      And add to that the summoning and everything that happened after and I was all aboard. I really enjoyed their back and forth with Max coming across like this was all just another day for him. That said, as much as I love it when the protagonist doesn’t know the rules and is tricked, there is something satisfying about watching someone who knows what their doing.

      Great story!

    5. Mr DeBlob Avatar
      Mr DeBlob

      Very good job dipping the reader into your world, giving just enough to understand the basics and still setting up for all the potential depth hiding within it. The titles/names the characters use definitely draw me in, both for how simple they are and what they might represent of those very beings. Really hope that you get to delve deeper into this concept!

  31. Reunion
    by Spawn of Faust

    “You know if you go that way you shall perish surely. On the other hand, you go that way and you will not die horribly and maybe you can even settle for a comfy life.” Said a familiar man, dressed in plate armor and bearing a chunk of steel, which he deemed to call a sword, on his back, to me as he was pointing with his arm in the direction of the forest from which I emerged.

    “And I shall die if I stay here. You know me better. Where are those two companions of yours?” I asked the man.

    Man took a swing from his flask. “They went that way and as you can expect it did not work out as well as they intended. Now their remains are spread inside of a few different beasts.”

    “Gimme.” I said as I grabbed his flask. Cork was already popped open and I took a large gulp of bitter wine.

    “Let their death not be in vain.” My mouth crooked with a bitter smile. I would miss them, but It would not do me much good if I wallowed in my sadness. I returned the flask into the man’s hand and prepared myself to leave.

    I turned away from the hulking figure of the man. Smile was returning to my scarred face.

    “Don’t go there. Listen to my warning.” Man grabbed my hand and turned me so I faced him head on.

    “Until now all choices in my life were made by others. Now it is my turn and this is for Ilo.” I said as I plunged the knife under his jaw, thus ending his life.

    “Right move Veren Tytär. Goodbye.” Said man, his grip loosening.

    “Goodbye Kain. And say hello to those two.” I bestowed last words onto the man’s corpse and I ventured into the dark cave, leaving his still body behind.

    1. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      A nice short story, very well making use of the prompt, closed in itself. Whatever happens next is up for debate, but personally I really like this open ending. He did what he wanted to do, and after a life of letting others decide for him, I can imagine he would not even mind if that one decision he made ends up killing him.

      Last but not least I also have to say that I absolutely LOVE the old language you used, whenever they talked!

      Keep it up ^^

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I really liked how direct and open it is. Difficult to do both at the same time, and yet, here it is. There is something almost Hemingway-esque in the directness of the writing here.

      In lieu of critique, I’d do a small revision on comma placement, since there are some that seem a bit strange (and some lacking, specially those that go between vocatives and the sentences directed at the character implied by the vocative). Other than that, to me it seems really well-written.

      Great tale.

  32. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    Decidophobia
    by Lee Strangely

    The whole car practically reverberated as it made its abrupt halt. The fog moved as if to cower upon the vehicle’s entry.

    “Well?” Ike tensed.

    Brom leaned forward to look past the wind shield, “Well I suppose that’s a neat looking scarecrow, I guess…” The pumpkin-headed strawman hung there between the paths, smiling, with damp clothes and condensation making him appear to sweat more than Ike.

    “The roads Brom,” Ike reiterated, “which one.”

    “I don’t know, you pick.”

    Ike’s hands tightened their grip on the wheel, “You’re the one with a place to go, I’m just taking you there.”

    “You have the wheel, you decide.”

    Ike continued to explain, faltering, “How? I don’t know where we are, and thanks to this stupid fog I don’t know where either road goes.”

    “Well neither can I,” Brom hissed, “now will you just choose one already! You’re blocking the road.”

    “What do you mean, there’s no-” Ike glanced at the mirror, paling at a silhouette in the grey murk.

    “Just drive.”

    “It’s not a car, it looks to just be someone on a horse. They can go around.” Ike then rolled down the window. “Hey! Go around!” he shouted to the figure.

    Silence.

    Ike called again, hand signaling, “GO. AROUND.”

    Stillness.

    “It’s simple,” Ike’s mind reasoned, “just two choices. Right? Left? Right, why not go with right… But where does it go? What if it’s washed out, flooded? Well take left then! But wait, where does left go?” He panicked at the combined terror of Brom’s annoyance, the figure’s appearance, and the circle the riddle could never escape. Perhaps it was a hallucination out of this fear that caused him to start hearing the car’s digital clock actually tick as it too judged him.

    “DRIVE!” Brom shouted

    Like a whip, the one word made him move. His foot nearly going through the floorboards as the car flew past the scarecrow’s right. With it behind him, he finally calmed down.

    Something in the distance eventually forced him to slow down. He nearly cried upon being stabbed again…

    By yet another fork in the road…

    1. Samuel Gallew Avatar
      Samuel Gallew

      I gotta say, I’m a sucker for an eerie atmosphere in writing, especially with the horrors conjured up by your own mind. Plus, when the co-pilot decides to stop being helpful, and starts yelling at you to make up your mind when you have problems making that choice, I think you nailed that anxiety there.

      Of course, there are some improvements to be made, such as using single quotes for the inner monologue, and breaking up paragraphs into smaller ones to help the reader keep up with what’s going on, but the story itself is good. Could be the premise for a good horror story.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Very atmospheric, and hey, this is a very closer-to-heart phobia than the others you’ve written about for me. So, well, tense one. Most of the things here are very interesting, but I find the sentences following the inner monologue a bit confusing – and the confusion made a split on the text experience, who until then had a very nice flow. And even though I’m pointing out the break and confusion there, I just love the image of the sound of the clock as judging the one who can’t make a decision. This was just golden.

      And the ending… I’m a bit on the fence on the effect, but I am more inclined to say I’m pleasantly surprised with the shock and then re-evaluating at what the shock is about. Yup, the need to make one’s mind is quite impactful – a stab is a great way to convey it. And bringing the idea of stabbing first and then concluding at what it is is a great way to make us be in the shoes of the one suffering the tension of the experience.

      Great atmosphere, great way of building the feeling of the situation.

    3. First of all, I must admit, I never heard of such a phobia before but it works so well in this context. It also gave me the feeling like it did not even matter which way leads where, it is more about the actually choice to drive one way or another. And, of course, in this case the dread that comes with it.

      The story has a really fitting atmosphere, and even though there are two people sitting in the car, it seems as if Ike was alone the whole time, having to experienec his fear all by himself.

      A really good short story.

  33. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Confessions of a lovesick doctor (Tale of Alois)

    By Tamela Redfin

    I smoothed my hair, walked the corridors, lights flickering, after leaving my brother to his work, but then I heard crying. Should I follow it?

    “Alois, is it your business? No, but someone could be hurt and the other staff doesn’t care.” I contemplated.

    I listened for a while longer and then rushed into a sight I didn’t want to see.

    Cora sat in a bed, bruised and beaten. “Gott, Cora! What happened?”

    “N-nothing, I fell.” She lied.

    I walked closer, “Cora, tell me the truth. Was it my brother?”

    “Augen?” She flinched.

    I walked over and hugged her. She flinched again but slowly reached up and hugged back.

    “Nothing has been the same since Henry left. He’d never let Augen touch me like that.” She sobbed.

    “Let me be a hydrogen then. Your guards are meant to protect you.” I whispered back, feeling my heart beat faster.

    Wait, did I like my brother’s girlfriend? Oh he’d kill me if I did. Or was I using Cora as a way to get over Reagan? Well, it had been fifteen years and Reagan did make me a homewrecker, but Cora?

    My niece Engel entered the room, “Mum, are you feeling better?”

    “Yes Engel. Alois is seeing to that. How’s Vi?”

    “Aunt Helen is with her. Uncle Maxwell said the genetic altering of her eyes could cause blindness though.”

    Cora was distraught, screaming, wailing and shaking in my arms.

    “I don’t know what I can do, but I will do my best to prevent it. I can’t believe it! My brother has done monstrous things before, this must be a new low.”

    But was I making the right choice? Suppose Cora was lying, but could she fake her reaction? And what would be gained from lying? It was time to branch away from Augen.

    1. I really like the character building in this story. I am somewhat familiar with your characters from past works, but this is probably one of my favourite scenes. It’s really nice to see Alois giving Cora a glimmer of light in the pain Augen inflicts on her and, from what I gather, her child as well. (If my interpretation of Vi being Cora’s child is correct; her actions implied it, at least to me.)

      One aspect I find interesting is when Alois mentions to Cora that he’ll ‘be hydrogen’. I assume this is shorthand for ‘I’ll take care of you’ or ‘I’ll help you heal’? I’d be really curious about the meaning of that phrase.

      Well written!

    2. I see that Augen has been his usual “charming” self. Just wait until Alois finds out all about the genetic experiments and sundry nastiness that’s been going on.

      Nice to see that Cora is getting a rescue and some genuine comfort. The first step on her path to being a leader of the resistance.

      Alois making the _smart_ choices. He must be the one with the brain cell.

    3. Nice. Much improvement.

  34. Walking through the world

    by Galer.

    This world was a strange one, out of the many the couple visited.

    The shade and the light literary walked through it, seeing several exotic things like trees growing out of the ceiling of this world, some of them having the texture of dirt, the road itself was bizarre due to being made out of tissue, not to mention the vegetation itself that had mouths that screamed went you touched then

    Eventually, they hit a crossroad there was a creature, that had a top hat and a baton, but for the couple, the being was far from average, it was a sphere that reflected the glint, that the light was shining towards it, the creature also levitated slightly from the ground in where his shoes were, along with having three appendages one of then grabbing the baton.

    “So what are this lovely couple doing here?” said the creature with a comically exaggerated tone of voice

    “We are t just visiting this world,” The shade said with a melodious voice ” I had to say its a very…colorful place”

    “Oh so you are outsiders, Interesting we didn’t have void walkers here for a long time,” said the creature ” My name is Latarion”

    “My name is Parna and this grump beside me is Talak” Parna the shade said with an animated voice while her companion, color changed to a red one in a flash before returning to normal, he was clearly bothered by that ” as for why we are here well, we were bored so we are going on a trip,”

    “Hey! I am not that grumpy” Talak the orb of light protested ” if anything your pranks annoy me”

    “Oh please! you love then” she replied to her partner that just harrumphed at the response.

    “If it is fun you want, you came to the right place, ” Latarion said ” I will be your guide,”

    At the end of this short trip, the duo had his fill, eventually disappearing, as for Latarion? well, he just gave the pair his equivalent of a smile and a farewell.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Interesting one, Galer. Very on the surreal and bizarre side. Usually, I expect that quality of mixing the fantastical and the mundane in your tales, but this one seems to veer to a very different place.

      I love how colorful and imaginative the surreal elements of this piece are, and how you conveyed them in ways that emphasize the strangeness of it all. The two main critiques I have are about sentences construction and about the ending. You tend to write in long sentences, and I still think English is a language that does not lend itself well for those – also, it makes things a bit more confusing when not all commas seem to be in the right place. And the ending felt a little less impactful and colorful than it could be. It is as if a piece built on the strangeness of it it just… ended suddenly, which was a bit unsatisfactory.

      Still, I really liked the imagery, and I think you could make a very interesting trip (and a trippy one at that) just focusing on those. So, hey, great place you have here in your writing, would love to see more of it!

    2. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
      Jacob Guillerey

      Having weirdly physical sentient beings is hard to handle. But their dialogue and the descriptions that went with it were very enjoyable. I sincerely think this story would be better in a drawn/animated/filmed setup where you can truly understand and constently imagine the setting as they exchange words, but my imagination is a bit lacking so it might just be me !

      Excellent work as I do not find much to say in negative, if it isn’t that the crossroad was a bit litteral, but it isn’t a negative, so I don’t have anything negative to say (maybe the first sentence isn’t as clear as it should be but nothing else.)

      Good luck with the next one too !

  35. Roman Rivero Avatar
    Roman Rivero

    Clean work for the clean man
    by Roman Rivero

    The Cowboy on his horse found a cleanly dressed man waiting for him on a fork of the long desert. This man, with a straightened composure in a black suit and beige pants was unaffected by the winds or sand and stood at the crossing and stared at him. Expecting him as if he were a doctor ready to see his next patient.

    “Kindly day to you friend,” the man grinned.

    “Uhh, kind day to you too sir.” The Cowboy tipped his hat and with a quick glance to see only the barren wastes of sand prompted, “What’s a fella like you doing out in nowhere? You seem lost in this dry heat.”

    “Lost? Oh no I know exactly where I am, I was making my way east from here to Limpio Peak for a job opening. Looking to help be a janitor for the saloon.”

    “A cleaning job? You seem too clean yourself to try dirtying anything. A good suit like that would make anyone think you own the joint.”

    “Yes it’s true, this is a nice suit. Would be a shame if some drinks or vomit or just about anything really got on it. But it’s just a suit. I’m sure I can change out of it and into a new one.”

    “Right.” The cowboy nodded. Feeling he wanted to leave the conversation. “Well, good luck on the job, but I’m heading west from here, so sorry if you needed a lift.”

    “Oh no no, I don’t need a lift. Like I said, I know exactly where I am. My clothes might be at its cleanest but it doesn’t define me, it’s what I do that does. Tables and floors need to be clean. I’ll get dirty and no one will even bat an eye, but I know my responsibilities because in the end, who doesn’t enjoy a clean bar?”

    The Cowboy stared off with eyes widened as he looked back towards the storming horizon. Something creeping up inside him. He turned back down to see the man had vanished.

    Cleanly gone.

    1. Samuel Gallew Avatar
      Samuel Gallew

      Ooh, nice little cowboy western you got there!

      First, I want to point out: “…and with a quick glance to see only the barren wastes of sand *prompted*…”

      That “prompted” really stands out as awkward, and jarring since it doesn’t follow the action that was stated earlier, and doesn’t lead into the dialogue without leadup.

      Even “…with a quick glance…” stands out. What you might consider is switching it to something like: “…and glanced around at the oddly barren desert, eye out for trouble.”

      Of course I put my own twist on that, but if a phrase isn’t doing anything important, don’t feel bad chopping it out, or changing it.

      Other than that, I like the stranger’s philosophy of: “I may look nice, but looks do not define me.” And the twist at the end was also pretty good!

      Keep working to improve, and good luck partner!

    2. I love the quality of the estranged interactions, brings heart & personality to the world; speaking on its own about how strange this well-dressed man really is.

      But when talking around the end, about the spooky disappearance of the well-dressed man; “Right.” The cowboy nodded. Feeling he wanted to leave the conversation. “Well, good luck on the job, but I’m heading west from here, so sorry if you needed a lift.” you don’t really acknowledge the Cowboy has moved until he gets goosebumps and decides to look behind him, so that was a little confusing, & disrupts the pacing. But anyways, that was a pretty fun story to read!

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This was very interesting, and I just love the setting and that ending. I couldn’t help but imagine a job as a cleaner would entail some kind of disappearance (of the violent kind), but the way it was built on was very engaging.

      I’m a bit confused as to why you chose to sometimes capitalize Cowboy, and sometimes don’t. I also found it a bit confusing to imagine what could be a fork in a desert, though I found it more interesting to think about (almost as a first seed to the supernatural elements of the story) than got confused by it, so I guess there is a bit of poetic meaning to it.

      Anyway, it was an engaging read.

  36. A Kindness in the Crossroads Tavern [A Tiefling Tale]
    C. M. Weller

    “What are you doing in my pack, kleine?” The Tiefling was drunk. So drunk that one might call him blind. And yet, he could see her.

    Anemone froze. Nobody should be able to see her!

    “You hungry? Looking for money?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just handed her his meal right off the table. “I just spent my last coin on this lot. It’s not good, but it’s all I can spare.” It was half a trencher of stew, barely picked at, a heel of dry bread, and not a lot of butter.

    A man’s last meal. Even a devilborn should not be down to one last meal. And yet he gave it away without a thought. “You shouldn’t see me,” she said.

    “Too many overlook those in need,” he belched. “Pard’n. Here. You look like you need it more than me. Take it. Eat. I will not let eine kinder go unfed.”

    A gift from one in need. One without any expectation of a boon. But he would get one, oh yes. He would GET one.

    Anemone glimpsed into his future, and gave him a trinket so he might know who would help him. A little thing that bore the sigil of the family of the helper. When he found it, he clenched in fear. What a tricky creature this Tiefling was!

    She tried something simpler. A trade of gold for the paintings he ‘found’ in a nest of thieves. She saved him from trouble and gave him far more than what they were worth. He viewed it with suspicion. Anemone did not wish to gift him with concerns.

    Finally, he stated what he wanted to someone in power. Easy for a Brownie to accomplish! He need not deal with lords and ladies to get what he wished. He had HER on his side!

    It was only just that she took three tries to get it right. Things with the Fae always happened in threes. This was something he clearly wanted. THIS time, she was going to get it right.

    The third time may indeed be the charm.

    1. Interesting, we see an important moment for the characters. I really like what you did to incorporate the Fae in your story. We can feel the characters have an history and a future waiting for them. Also, I find the passage in german very intriguing. I guess it’s some reference to the german fairytales.

      Good job !

      1. The german is just Kosh speaking bits of german to maintain his illusion of being a Dumb Foreigner(tm) – one of the acts he had early in the extended story. Not an actual reference to the brothers Grimm.

        Besides, brownies are Celtic lore anyway.

    2. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Good read! The ending was nice and the conversation was engaging.

    3. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      I love it! It sounds like not only a crossroad but also a very fateful meeting all in all, even if the pointing into the directions may not be there! German parts I like very much, since I am German myself, this is a nice touch ^^

      All in all a nice job!

      1. It’s kind of fate. Having one of the Fae Folk owing you a favour is almost as dangerous as catching their ire.

        The German is a part of a continuing character from other stories. He spent a long time in foreign parts and uses this to his advantage, sometimes.

    4. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I really like how both characters here could be seens as the one in the crossroads, though they appear to be in each other crossroads. Interesting construction. There are some construction that are just plain brilliant, such as the musing on how one that has drunk himself blind can see what should by all matter be invisible (and then, he just thinking that maybe she is being metaphorical with the idea)! Really great, funny while at the same time being tragic.

      This is all very well-written, and it flows easily.

      My one piece of critique is that I found the ending to be a bit cryptic, specially as a one-shot. I have some understanding of the characters you are writing about and the world they inhabit, but even then I found it a bit on the side of “too obscure for me to get at”, and if I haven’t any clue at that, I’d say the impression would probably be stronger (thought I can see you planted enough information here for it to mostly work as a one-shot story as well).

      Still, a very interesting and engaging reading! Great tale!

      1. Word limits SUCK, but I can see why you’d have trouble. There’s parts of the larger story here that I can only allude to because WORD LIMITS SUCK. This is why the longer and more complete tale has 91 chapters and counting 9_9

        Threes and Fae go together like bread and butter. Of course Anemone believes the third gift will see her clear.

        Unfortunately for her, she picked Kosh “Mr Paranoia” Whitekeep. There’s going to be more about this later on in the novel. I haven’t written it yet.

    5. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I confess, I was a bit confused by this story. I got the general gist of what was going on. Kosh meets a brownie who he could see when she thought he shouldn’t be able to see. Followed by him giving her food in an act of kindness. Leading to two bumbled attempts to satisfactorily give him a boon. With the third attempt being a likely success.

      All that said I didn’t understand very well some parts of the story. At one point you wrote on the third desire, he “stated what he wanted to someone in power” which felt vague to me so I wasn’t sure what he actually wished. Likewise in the first desire where the brownie gives him a sigil of the family that would help me, but he “clenched in fear” as a result. So I got confused if he was grasping the sigil and clenching it, clenching something else, or what?

      All in all it was a good story, it just felt like its narration was a bit oblique to the events of the story. Resulting in it being to vague to my perceptions.

      1. I had to trim words and keep the whole thing svelte. There’s like half a chapter devoted to OG deal.

        Kosh “clenched in fear” because his paranoia is in overdrive. Someone should not have been able to get into his pack without him noticing. A small token that is obviously Not His could land him in legal trouble if found – and some law enforcement will take any excuse to hang a Tiefling. So his whole bod tensed up for a second or two.

        I had to be oblique. Word counts suck.

    6. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
      Jacob Guillerey

      I love the idea that the fae could tell what would happen, and tried to repay a pure gesture of generosity. If it was generosity anyways, as if she can see the future, maybe so could he, seeing that by helping the fae and refusing a boon, she would get an even greater one. Unlikely, but I love the idea of two divinators using each other to grow to better standings, may they know it or not.

      Otherwise, a great story told in a very fluent manner, as it is every time I read one of your texts, you and anaraquista have been the two I seek out every week to read your texts as the ideas are not only original bun fun to read !

      Continue the great work, and If you’ve written a book or similar, i’d love to buy then read it !

      1. My guy was just being himself. He didn’t know she was a Brownie and confused her with an underfed kid.

        He’ll find out about it later. I haven’t reached that chapter in the book, either 😛

        Be warned, I may seek you out for beta-reading when I reach the end of it.

        1. Jacob GUILLEREY Avatar
          Jacob GUILLEREY

          I’ll be happy to provide !

    7. Very interesting.

      I feel like the Kosh knows he’s not saying “I see you” the same way the brownie means it.

      Curious that Anemone is able to look into the future and…make adjustments to suitably reward him.

      I wouldn’t go so far as to say they’re the reason for his happy ending… But on the other hand, this is exactly the sort of thing that’s gets people happy endings.

      Of course, that assumes it IS Kosh. It might not be, but it sounds like him.

      1. It is most definitely Kosh. He hadn’t made up his name at this point in the tale XD

        The Brownie Anemone has yet to appear in the larger novel. Pity me.

    8. Semantics Avatar
      Semantics

      Well written dnd related story, easy to read and a nice finish that tide up the story in an open ended manner. The characters were well described through their actions, reactions and mannerisms. Especially love the description of the thought prosses of the chaotic fae.

  37. Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Everybody!
    By Marx

    Matt’s eyes bulged in shock and confusion. “You… got a tattoo? Of me?”

    Lucy smiled, looking down to her shoulder where the image of a chibi Grim Reaper on an adorably fat horse rested. “Yes. A friend of mine taught me the value of taking something that terrifies you and taking away its power.”

    Matt’s eyes narrowed. “I freed you.”

    Lucy downed the shot glass in front of her. “You are also the only one who can put me back. I assume the walls to Hell are breaking down without me?”

    “Yes,” sighed Matt. “I was hoping for your help with that.”

    Lucy refilled her glass. “I say this aware of the pointlessness of such an endeavor, but should you attempt to cage me again, I will fight you with every ounce of my soul and will.”

    “N… no! I don’t want to cage you again! I just-… I need help. I need something that the demons fear more than Hell.”

    This time Lucy’s eyes bulged. “You request my assistance in a display of power? Why not simply use your army?”

    Matt fought the urge to get a glass for himself. “They’re not an army!”

    “They are thousands of fallen angels, demons, and deities at your beck and call, merely awaiting your orders. This is also known as an army.”

    “They aren’t mine. I… freed them…”

    “You freed me too.” Lucy downed her drink again. “Why is it okay for you to ask this of me and not them? I’ve been trapped in Hell for most of my existence and I am… weary of it. I just want to enjoy what remains of my life in peace.”

    Matt paused for a long moment and then flashed Lucy a smile. “You should do that then. Sorry to bother you.”

    Lucy looked momentarily dumbfounded as Matt got up to leave. “What will you do?”

    Matt shrugged in defeat. “I guess I have an army to mobilize…”

    “Might I make a suggestion?”

    “…please do.”

    “When going into battle, making use of War and Conquest would be… wise.”

    Matt smirked back. “Heh. Duly noted.”

    1. Really like the metaphorical crossroad you put your character in. He is in a difficult position where he has to make an important choice. Also, I see that you remember Conquest of the four horsemen, too often replaced by Pestilence.

      I like this a lot. You can feel there is much more to the characters.

      Good job !

      1. Lol I fully agree. I can’t actually remember when I’ve seen a depiction of Conquest. It was one of the reasons I went with it. Along with it just fitting the character way more than Pestilence would have.

        Thank you so much for the review! I’m glad you liked it.

    2. It took me a moment to notice that the crossroads in the prompt here are not a physical place, but the choice Matt faces. While it’s easy to see Matt as a guy who just doesn’t want to go to war, I think the problem is more complicated. He seems willing to fight, just not willing to treat deities as his own personal army, even if they do all owe him a favour.

      It’s also a joy to see Lucy on screen. She has that good, classic sass I like to associate with characters, who are in control and know it. Even though Matt is perfectly able to destroy her, Lucy seems to either not be that scared or very good at hiding it. I really get the impression that she could dominate Matt, if she wanted to, but his power is holding her back. For now, at least.

      Great story!

      1. You hit the nail on the head there. While Matt isn’t exactly a fighter, per se, he has no problem doing so if the need calls for it. But bringing other people into the battle rubs him the wrong way, which makes quite a bit of moral conflict.

        And I’m glad you liked Lucy! I don’t get to use her too much and she’s such a fun character. Interestingly enough, she is toning down her fear of Matt but it is definitely there lol. She just knows that he’s a good person at heart or he wouldn’t have freed her in the first place. So if she goes the moral route and sticks the landing, she knows she’s good to go.

        But you also aren’t wrong that Lucy can be very manipulative if pushed to it.

        Thank you so much for the review!

    3. I think my favorite part about Matt, and it’s a side effect of his PHENOMINAL COSMIC POWER, but I like how he’s able to just have conversations with characters like Lucifer.

      I still don’t know how he relates to Death and The Horseman of Death. It feels like he is Apocolypse and Death would be HIS Horesman… The Horse(wo)man of Death. … I dunno. It’s weird. I try not to think about it.

      But honestly the big question is, “how do armies relate to his initial stated problem”? Sounds more like he needs engineers than an army. To rebuild/reinforce those walls.

      1. Lol I do get the confusion. It’s what I get for making Death and the horseman of Death separate characters. As well as making it so the other 3 horsemen are under the horseman of Death instead of equals, but I’m hoping it’s less confusing when I can devote more words to it. We’ll see!

        As for rebuilding the walls of Hell, its kind of a two part job. Finding the new power source to take Lucy’s place or an alternate way to keep it up, as well as dealing with all these demons *cough-likeNisha-cough* that need to go back. But with the Havok the demons are causing, you can imagine why getting them under control is the most important to him currently.

    4. Semantics Avatar
      Semantics

      Impressive how much backstory you feet into this short story and the symbiology on familiar figures was on point.
      If i am interpreting this correctly did Matt come to the conclusion that he can get his army by killing them and sending them back to hell?
      Overall thought provoking and interesting piece, well done.

  38. Samuel Gallew Avatar
    Samuel Gallew

    Title: Decisions of Misery
    Author: Samuel Gallew

    Elen held the dagger in her clammy hands, her thoughts a storm of misery and fear as dark and wild as the one raging outside.

    She thought of the declining health of her sister, the abuse that stemmed from her mother’s drinking problem, and the trap that low funds and too many mouths fed into. If she didn’t eat or read so much…

    The blade clattered to the floor as the implications became too much for her to bear. While her death would guarantee everything would improve, she couldn’t stand the thoughts of-

    There was a knock at the door

    “Elen?” her mother called, sober for the moment. “Are you alright in there?”

    She kicked the dagger under her bed. “Yeah, dropped a hairpin.”

    “Go to sleep already. You have work tomorrow morning.”

    “I know.”

    As the footsteps faded away, she knelt down to grab her nightgown and felt a sharp pain on her wrist, yelping slightly while trying not to let herself be heard.

    Someone knocked at her door.

    “I’m fine mom!” she said, trying to press on the bleeding wound.

    The door opened, revealing a figure she didn’t recognize.

    She yelled. “Who are you?!”

    They put their hands up, and spoke in a calm, masculine voice that was oddly soothing.

    “I’m a friend, I promise.”

    “What do you want?” Elen asked, glaring sideways at him.

    “I see you’re having some troublesome issues. I want to help you.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Your life is an unfortunate one. Currently, your only two options are to die and fix everything, or grin and bear the suffering.”

    She felt tears stinging her eyes as she shivered, glancing at her wrist. “I don’t want to die, or suffer.”

    “Nobody does.” He slid his hand across the wound, and while it hurt for a second, it stopped bleeding entirely.

    “How?” she asked, stunned.

    “There is a place that needs you to save it. You’ll find power like this, and more. You won’t die here and you’ll see your family in better conditions. What do you say?”

    She barely even paused before she answered.

    1. Roman Rivero Avatar
      Roman Rivero

      A good scene, you feel sorry Elen that this is what its led up to and the second half adds an interesting mystery and you wonder what’s gonna happen next with this stranger. I feel you could change some lines to be sound effects like instead of “Someone knocked on the door” to just *Knock knock*.

      Overall, I’m more curious to know what happens next.

      1. Samuel Gallew Avatar
        Samuel Gallew

        Cliffhangers. Am I right?

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Interesting interpretation of the crossroads here – the crossroads between life and death, but it also seems to be between different lives, and different worlds. And well, one should always suspect the tropey man in the crossroads, so one can’t help but wonder what is to come.

      It ends with the right amount of suspense for us to just keep wondering free – I have no idea if I was about to find a tragic story, or a fantastical one (with a tint of heaviness, considering that start), or maybe even an horror one. But I can see each one of them developing in my mind – and it is an interesting thought. Very fun and intense read. Emotionality, thoughts and ambience all mixed up in nice dosages.

      Great tale!

      1. Samuel Gallew Avatar
        Samuel Gallew

        Yeah, Mystery is my absolute jam, and I love writing it whenever possible. Not everyone knows how to balance the suspense with wonder, or horror, but when they do, it really shows!

    3. Jacob Guillerey Avatar
      Jacob Guillerey

      A bit on the nose, but that never hurt anyone.
      I liked the idea of the text but I have a few nitpicks (that I hope I ddon’t do myself, even though that i probable)
      1)Precising that the mother is an alcoholic isn’t necessary, as it is a detail clearly implied by the line “sober for the moment”.
      2) the “figure” is a bit too vague. I know that wordcounts are the bane of this specific writting group, but a bit more details in his figure might be interesting. Is he a normal man ? Is he a bit TOO slender and skeletal, or does he seem a bit greasy, in all manners of speacking ? I would love to know more and the lack of description did let me a bit on my hunger.

      Other than that, the promess of an almost powerfantasy as you start to describe a world that needs the protagonist specifically to save it felt kinda weird. Depending on the interpretation and developpement of the story, it could end up being VERY interesting or very cliché. Good luck !

      1. Samuel Gallew Avatar
        Samuel Gallew

        I guess the alcoholic part was a bit overstated, though I knew it was absolutely a severe problem. However, on the “figure”, I actually don’t have any extra words to spare. Sure, I could have removed some of the earlier descriptions, but I’d have to sacrifice other descriptors, and it does (as you well noticed) leave people wondering just who the man is.

        But, I’m glad you enjoyed it!

  39. It has to be this way
    By contract

    Arthur woke up.

    He had a hard time remembering what happened. He just knew it was something weird, and the following events were about to confirm that feeling.

    When he opened his eyes, he saw an old man sitting on a wooden chair, in the middle of a crossroad with four paths.

    “So she decided to send you here. Well, here are the rules, fir-”

    “Who ?” interrupted Arthur.

    “Magic, The shiniest star, the velvet vessel or whatever you call her” answered the man with his deep voice.

    “That doesn’t answ-”

    “The northern path leads to Death.
    The western path leads to Conquest.
    The eastern path leads to Famine.
    The southern path leads to War.
    Which one do you choose ?” said the old man assertively.

    He marked a short silence.

    “You can ask me four questions to help you, but since you already used one, there are only three left.”

    “That’s unfair !” protested Arthur.

    “I don’t like being interrupted. Now ask your questions and choose. And quickly, each second, the horsemen approach.”

    “What is the good path ?” asked Arthur, worried.

    “The one where you don’t die”

    “Helpful. Which horseman is the least dangerous ?”

    “For you, they are all equally lethal”

    Arthur thought for a moment before posing his last question. It was obvious he wouldn’t get a valid answer from this man, but maybe a more unusual question could help.

    “What are the rules ?”

    “The ones I explained. No more, no less.
    You have no question left. What path do you choose ?”

    Arthur looked around. The four horsemen were now visible. He smiled, for he knew the answer.

    “Up. I choose up. No rule said I couldn’t.”

    “Success. Maybe she won’t kill you after all.” he said, before him and everything else around Arthur disappeared in a tornado of dust.

    A velvet little girl appeared behind him.

    “You survived ! Impressive ! Most people die on this one !
    Well, time for our next game !” she exclaimed.

    She snapped her fingers before giggling.

    1. Roman Rivero Avatar
      Roman Rivero

      That was a fun read. It makes Arthur stand out to be a clever character from the little information he got, and leaves for an intriguing end on what this female character is. I wish there was more tension with the four horsemen approaching. I feel that would really bring more suspense to the scene.

      Overall, it was a good read.

      Good job.

    2. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      I must say, I am amzed! This was a very good story and while it sure would be interesting to know how he got there, or who that little girl actually is, I like it that way. Having said that, I generally like such mysterious characters.

      A good crossway with an unexpected ending. Shows me again how dead I would be in situations like these xD

      Maybe one day it would be cool to read what else Arthur has to play. Until then, he did well done surviving this round and you keep up your good work ^^

    3. I do find myself interested by the phrase “A velvet little girl,” it calls to mind an animate doll that could also be an intelligent construct if this is a magical reality. Also maybe shades of the _Saw_ franchise.

      When I read “Arthur” and see evidence of magic, I kind of connect the legendary King Arthur and any of the expansion-pack adventures. Honestly, a magical doll girl who can rearrange reality sounds like it can fit right in.

      I love the solution to the riddle, too.

    4. This is such a fun story and that’s besides the biase I immediately have towards it because of the use of the four horsemen. I love the old man’s portrayal in this. The first question was kind of petty, but I can’t exactly blame him for it. It was technically a question that he answered. The fact that he answered it before the rules were finished was more Arthur’s fault than anything else.

      And I liked Arthur as well. His impatience comes across very well in his use of the questions, but his wit comes across just as strongly. It makes me very curious what the other tests will be as well as the reasonings for the game to begin with.

      Great take on the prompt!

    5. Charlie Ford Avatar
      Charlie Ford

      This story is beautifully written, there is just enough dialogue and I love how magic is a person. I just want to know two things, what came to his mind to make him say up, and why would that little girl want to torment a grown man like this? Otherwise, Great Job!!!

      1. Glad you liked it !
        The way up is just a classic twist on on an enigma that I use to show a character is pretty smart.
        The reason she is tormenting him is pretty simple, she wants to play with him as long as possible, and maybe help him for what comes next…

        Thanks !

    6. This is such a nice story! I love that you’ve personified magic and given her a personality that encapsulates the essence of if so well! The dialogues are very well written, and as someone who struggles to write them, I can really appreciate the way you’ve captured the personalities of the characters through their dialogues.
      I also love that the man technically answered each of the questions and each had hidden meaning, even though they seemed to be pointless. These little details really add up and deliver an excellent finale.
      Very well done, cheers!

  40. Stains of Time (The Will)
    By Skeleton (Edited by MelodyLuna7)

    “Oh, would you quit being so cowardly!” Greda admonished, rolling her eyes at her husband. “Look, it’s just a boy.” The wulack seamstress marched towards the crossroads—towards home. Her husband, Vendrick, had no choice but to follow.

    When they reached the black-hooded, white-masked figure standing in the intersection, Greda leant down in her usual caring manner. “Why, don’t you look terrifying!” she teased the young, human boy. “Did you make your costume yourse…”

    She saw the glint of the knife, but it had already passed through her and Vendrick’s throat.

    Startled, both wulack travelers found themselves on the ground, grasping their necks to try in vain to staunch the profuse bleeding. In her final struggles, Greda felt the purse on her hip free itself from her belt and watched as the masked boy walked into the dark night.

    *****

    He could still smell the blood in the soil. The black-cloaked man stared down to the dirt of the forgotten crossroads with undying recognition. Even in this long-since forgotten part of the country, he could not forget the pain he had caused. He could still feel them writhing inside his chest—in his non-essential heart.

    “Hey, Eymir.” The man looked up from the path to see Zaila standing up the road a little, looking back to her mentor with a confused glance. “We need to keep moving if we’re ever going to meet up with Ericka and the other forces on time.”

    The man did not respond, looking back to the dirt with rare pain revealed in his eyes. “Eymir?” Zaila’s voice rang out in concern. “Are you—?”

    “The world doesn’t care about you, Zaila,” Eymir began slowly, now trotting up to the young dragoness. “The world will trip you, cut you, break you, violate you, and tear you apart until you’re nothing more than meat. You are nothing to the world.”

    Zaila looked around nervously as his hands landed and grasped her shoulders. “O… kay?” But the confusion died when she saw his eyes.

    “We care about you.” he breathed. “I… care about you. And… I always will. I promise.”

    1. I loved how the prompt was implemented into your story! I didn’t even think about it until “crossroads” was so cleverly implemented in the ‘boy’s’ self-reflection. The self-reflection in Eymir through Zaila was good, & I saw purpose in his duty to protect his sister/love/’dragoness’ through whatever means possible; even at the expense of his sanity. I don’t like dialogue without some kind of emotional tie to the characters (it’s boring), so this was nice.

    2. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      Very very cool! Even though I may lack some context as to why he cut their throats, it was a real twist when he returned to the same spot at a later age.
      The moment of regret was described very well, as was the moment between him and Zaila ^^

      Also a nice establishing of the crossroads!

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Well, the others have already said something about the double meaning of crossroads here, though I’d say it is a lot more than just double. They are at a geographical crossroads, Eymir might be standing at a personal crossroads (which seems to be the thing in most of the tales featuring him), and here he is, in a sense, in a chronological crossroads, reliving his past (and by his past, I think I can imply both as the attacker and as the victims, since from what I gather he has absorbed them).

      The time jump was very cleverly implemented here. And I just find it intriguing to be thinking that maybe “the man” might not be the correct idea to what is in this particular crossroads, in either time. Very cleverly done.

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