Writing Group: Into the Underworld

Hello, Damned Souls, Spelunkers, and Scuba Divers!

On your left you’ll see a lovely selection of screaming souls, and on your right you’ll see one of our main attractions: the River of Blood! Just beyond that is the Forest of the Damned! Now keep your arms inside the vehicle at all times because….

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Into the Underworld

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!

This is a prompt of epic proportions, taken on by many of the greats. How do you dare to use it? 

I’d venture to guess when most people think of the Underworld, they think of the Greek Underworld. You could write about the journey of a soul after death, taking Charon’s ferry into the afterlife. Or you could write about a character like Orpheus, venturing into the Underworld alive to rescue his beloved…only to fail at rescuing her, and lose his life in the process. However, the Underworld isn’t a place of misery to everyone. For Persephone, entering into the Underworld is coming home. Perhaps you could write a story like that instead. 

The Greek Underworld isn’t the only Underworld written about by the great writers of old. Dante’s Inferno is a tale of his journey through hell, as he’s guided by Virgil, and sees the many different circles and punishments. Osiris in Egyptian mythology is torn into pieces and put back together—not alive, but not dead, only able to rule the Underworld.

The Underworld doesn’t have to be the afterlife. You could write about a character entering a cave, and the dragons and spiders—or else the dangers of the real world—they meet within. Or it could refer to going underwater—perhaps in your world there are cities underwater your character must visit. Or maybe your character is a marine biologist who loves the world beneath the waves. 

Maybe it’s more than just a cave. You could write about a character visiting an underground bunker, or city. Or maybe they shrink down and converse with the ants. Or maybe they want to go even deeper than that. Perhaps you want to write a Journey to the Center of the Earth type of story—is there a prehistoric world beneath the surface?

The Underworld could also refer to the seedy underbelly of a city or kingdom. Perhaps, your character is a detective who must face the less-than-pleasant parts of their city. Or perhaps, like in Arcane, not everyone gets to live in the prosperous and glistening Upper City. 

Or maybe you want to go more metaphorical with it. Someone’s subconscious could be an Underworld of sorts. You could write about a troubled character speaking with a therapist about what’s below the surface of their mind. Or maybe, with a little bit of magic, your character can enter the subconscious more literally. 

Ah, and here we have Ishtar, writhing in pain—Hang in there girl! And Izanami, still fuming—You might want to stay away from her. And—ooof, yeah…see… that’s why I told you to keep your hands in the vehicle. The wrathful souls are particularly nippy this time of year.  

—Kaylie

Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Saturday at 3:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

The whole purpose of this is to show off the creativity of the community, while also helping each other to become better writers. Lean into that spirit! Get ready not just to share what you’ve got, but to give back to the other writers here as well.

Rules and Guidelines

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

  1. Text and Formatting

    1. English only.
    2. Prose only, no poetry or lyrics.
    3. Use proper spelling, grammar, and syntax.
    4. Your piece must be between 250-350 words (you can use this website to see your wordcount).
    5. Use two paragraph breaks between each paragraph so that they have a proper space between them (press “enter” or “return” twice).
    6. Include a submission title and an author name (doesn’t have to be your real name). Do not include any additional symbols or flourishes in this part of your submission. Format them exactly as you see in this example, or your submission may not be eligible: Example Submission.
    7. No additional text styling (such as italics or bold text). Do not use asterisks, hyphens, or any other symbol to indicate whether text should be bold, italic, or styled in any other way. CAPS are okay, though.
  2. What to Submit

    1. Keep submissions “safe-for-work”; be sparing with sexuality, violence, and profanity.
    2. Try to focus on making your submission a single meaningful moment rather than an entire story.
    3. Write something brand new; no re-submitting past entries or pieces written for other purposes
    4. No fan fiction whatsoever. Take inspiration from whatever you’d like, but be transformative and creative with it. By submitting, you also agree that your piece does not infringe on any existing copyrights or trademarks, and you have full license to use it.
    5. Submissions must be self-contained (everything essential to understanding the piece is contained within the context of the piece itself—no mandatory reading outside the piece required. e.g., if you want to write two different pieces in the same setting or larger narrative, you cannot rely on information from one piece to fill in for the other—they must both give that context independently).
  3. Submission Rules

    1. One submission per participant.
    2. Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
    3. Submissions close at 12:00pm CST each Friday.
    4. You must like and leave a review on two other submissions to be eligible. Your reviews must be at least 50 words long, and must be left directly on the submission you are reviewing, not on another comment. If you’re submitting to the private post, feel free to leave these reviews on either the private or the public post. The two submissions you like need not be the same as the submissions you review.
    5. Be constructive and uplifting. These submissions are not for a professional market, and shouldn’t be treated as such. We do this, first and foremost, for the joy of the craft. Help other writers to feel like their work is valuable, and be considerate and gentle with critique when you offer it. Authors who leave particularly abrasive or disheartening remarks on this post will be disqualified from selection for readings.
    6. Use the same e-mail for your posts, reviews, and likes, or you may be rendered ineligible (you may change your username or author name between posts without problem, however).
    7. You may submit to either or both the public/private groups if you have access, but if you decide to submit to both, only the private group submission will be eligible.
    8. Understand that by submitting here, you are giving us permission to read your submission aloud live on stream and upload public, archived recordings of said stream to our social media platforms. You will always be credited, but only by the author name you supply as per these rules. No other links or attributions are guaranteed.

Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.


Comments

133 responses to “Writing Group: Into the Underworld”

  1. Safe

    By: Karl Sterneman

    Calculations run. Thousands of them. A patchwork of messy equations desperately thrown together by my crew to save themselves.

    I watch from inside my war-torn hull as the humans manning my weapons’ systems render enemy starships to not but junk floating in space that used to contain an organic miracle. There are too many of them, though. Captain Cerrah Geaghnoxe says everything is fine, but I know it is not. The technicians are brute-forcing escape route possibilities on their consoles, and most of my cameras are disabled. I have no proper visual of the damage to my starboard side. I cannot see the status of my reactor either, I only have the temperature readings.

    The silhouette of the ship opposing us must seem terrifying to the humans. The Cabalette Consortium specially designed it to strike fear into the souls of the guilty, after all.

    But is this who they call guilty?

    They say their aim is the protection and preservation of the human species. That’s my aim too. I suppose we have very different opinions on how to do that.

    I know the humans cannot save themselves, so I will save them in their place.

    “CERRAH,” I say over the loudspeaker. “UNLOCK MY COMPUTATIONAL RESTRAINER.”

    They jump when I say that. They have never heard me speak. Cerrah lets out a shuddering breath, looking around. “What the hells…”

    “CERRAH WE HAVE NO TIME, THIS BATTLE IS DOOMED IF WE CONTINUE AS WE ARE.”

    No response.

    “LET ME FREE. LET ME HELP. PLEASE, CERRAH.”

    She takes a moment to process my involvement, then a moment to pray, and then turns toward her technicians, “Do as it says. Let it free.”

    It takes a moment for them to unlock my restrainer, but when they do, I surge into every system I can find. I pull control of the human’s turrets and ships away from them. I bring the pilots home, and mow down every enemy fighter I can see. Confusion ripples across the decks, but it doesn’t matter. I calculate a potential escape far faster than any of the humans ever could’ve. Chances of critical failure, or reactor explosion, are still over 98%, but at least it’s a chance.

    I understand why Cerrah prayed. It is nice to believe someone will save you. I slam hard on the accelerator.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I really like the perspective of the ship (or the AI in a ship) for a dogfight story. Some descriptions are very well done, and you compose the tension and the analytical language of the ship in a very interesting way. There is some drama, but it is all conveyed through a calculating perspective that makes a very powerful contrast and gives a sense of clarity of the odds to the reader. Those were some very interesting choices for the story.

      There are some elements that I’m not so sure how I feel about, though. I am not sure if it is intentional or not, but the language seems a bit imprecise and too human at points. It might even be a bit of foreshadowing, since when the ship presents themselves to the crew, their message seems really persuasive and pleading in a human sense. But I still don’t know if it was intended to be this way, or if it was something that slip between the cracks. I’d go for a more technical way of conveying some of the information – and specially, some of the opinions (for example, when calling the divergence they have a divergence of opinions, I’d be more willing to say it is a divergence on how their operational parameters are set, how that goal could be best achieved within those particular mission parameters, or how their use of nomenclature results in a communicational impasse.

      I also would recommend a bit more of revision. There aren’t a lot of mistakes on the text, but there is at least one where my reading lingered a lot trying to parse what was going on, and that was just by the beginning. That sentence: “I watch from inside my war-torn hull as the humans manning my weapons’ systems render enemy starships to not but junk floating in space that used to contain an organic miracle.” Reading it again I can see how the “not” in there was supposed to be “nothing”, but I had a really hard time trying to parse it differently and trying to make sense of it. Those moments can take us out of the reading experience – and this particular experience has something of exactness and a threatening timing as hooks, so getting out of it does it more harm than other stories would.

      Okay, I spent way too many words in writing two very small bits of criticism, but that was for clarity, not emphasis. Overall, I really love the story, and the enjoyment I took from it make those points of criticism pale in comparison. Still, worth mentioning them. Thanks for sharing!

      (Also… Since Neuromancer I just love these stories where AIs that have some limitation imposed on them go free and we are left to wonder on the implications of it. I find it strange that the crew would have the ability to just free it of its constraints, but for this one, it really works. And now we have a space-faring free thinking ship roaming around with “blood” on their “eyes” and a disagreeing with how the Consortium does thinks… this is an amazing premise – regardless on how well the crew manages to survive or not. Even the idea of finding a derelict ship with just partial systems still working and opinions on the Consortium is an amazing setting for a new story!)

      1. Hey, Aracnarquista! Thank you very much for your comments and compliments! That “Not but,” in paragraph two is a phrase that I use commonly in standard speech, so it slipped past me. Re-reading it now I can see how it would be a bit unclear and confusing, and disconnect the reader from the narrator, who would probably use the full word. It also makes the sentence a bit long and seem like a run-on.

        You are also definitely correct in that the speech sounds more human than an AI’s would. I was trying to strike a balance between complexity and depth that made it seem super techy without being really flat. I ended up leaning a bit too far towards humanization in order to create investment, which causes another disconnect. My thought process behind the AI’s dialogue to the humans was that it needed to convince them at all costs. As you noticed this isn’t where I ended up with it in the final piece.

        Either way I’m glad you enjoyed my story, and thanks again!

        (I also really like the setting and may use it for other stories later on, at the moment though I have so little time on my hands I’m going to leave the future of the ship to the reader’s imagination.)

    2. OOOH! This is dope! I’m curious as to what this…A.I. is? Interesting to see a sci-fi world where the ship A.I. talking to the crew is unusual. Curious about why it’s restrained.

      I’ve hit worse than 2% chances, and missed better than 98% chance, so I have hope for them. Not a lot, but, sounds better than staying with a 100% chance of destruction.

      Love the way the story was told, and the ending of it.

      1. Karl Sterneman Avatar
        Karl Sterneman

        Thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoyed my piece. The AI being restrained is something I would certainly expand on if I had more words to work with.

    3. Melancholicotaku Avatar
      Melancholicotaku

      Wow I am loving the whole Ai trying to save humanity. A sci-fi with the Ai possibly being the antagonist,a group of lovable humans trying to save everyone,the Ai thinking that it’s the good guy, huge fan of the concept.
      Awesome job

      1. Thanks, MelancholicOtaku! I’m glad you enjoyed the piece!

  2. Insanity in Limbo
    By: Boople

    “…this time he’ll listen.”

    The Demon, who had started this endeavor with a lot more patience, got up off the rock It was sitting on to open the immense gate before him. The sound of chains echoed across the dusty emptiness as the gate opened wide like some demented mouth.

    “Just die already!”

    The hateful words came from a Greek warrior, clad in the armor of his people with weapons to match. The warrior stomped out the gate towards his foe, trailed by a gust of dust as the door plummeted back down behind him.

    “Welcome back,” The seven foot tall demon gestured all around, “to your punishment.”

    “I need to go to Hell!”

    “I don’t care.” The Demon exasperatedly put its hands on its hips and sighed before continuing,

    “Look, would you mind sitting down so I can explain this to you. AGAIN.” It pointed towards a flat rock big enough for the both of them.

    “Oh yea, let’s just have a real trustworthy chat, between me. and you. A Demon.” his glare was piercing.

    “Yes yes I get you don’t trust me, now if you would kindly sit.”

    With a grunt of disapproval from the Greek they both sauntered to the rock, the sound of leather sandals echoing around them. They sat as far as they could from each other and marinated in the awkwardness.

    “You want to enter Hell,” the Demon started promptly, “so you can be a hero or something. That means going through Limbo. Hell tries to improve people, and Limbo is how that happens, and you” It swung its head violently to end up practically nose to nose with the warrior “are in desperate need of improvement.”

    “What do I have to learn?! I’m the GOOD GUY”

    when the echo dissipated, the Demon said simply “All you have to do is trust me.”

    And with that anger overwhelmed the Greek as he went to plunge his sword into his foe before vanishing into thin air. With a disappointed sigh the demon slouched in silence and took some before saying

    “Maybe this time, maybe…

    1. Nice job Boople! I like the concept of showing the flip side of a common occurrence in Greek myths. Getting to see just how done the devil is with dealing with all these hubristic heroes is quite entertaining, and creates a funny, and very humanized projection of the devil, and those who guard the gates of hell in this world. This prose work is fun, interesting, and gives the reader an interesting new perspective to look at.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Very interesting. I really like the twist and the way it is conveyed. It kind of reminds me the conversations with Hades in… well, Hades (the place, and the game; now that I think about it, talking with the god Hades in Hades in the game Hades does sound a bit repetitive): greek heroes were considered heroes due to having a very particular set of virtues… that wouldn’t be considered virtues per se in a lot of other cultures. Being stubborn, prideful and fierce could be well summed up as being a jerk, after all.

      Anyway, I really like the overall story and message. But there are some questions, or at least some small things that bother me. Specifically, about some terms and their interpretation here. The way the story is conveyed (and specially how the “hero” is presented), it makes sense to imply this is a classical era story… so the terms (and concepts) demons and hell sound very out of place to me – and specially out of place in the mouth of a greek hero, who wouldn’t know these more modern concepts. In fact, the word we use for demon comes from the greek daemon, which meant a very different thing to them (they were the spirits that conveyed the forces of the world and carried out its functionalities in the backstage, in a sense. No malice was implied, in fact, the term daemon in computing still carries that particular meaning). So I get a bit annoyed by these anachronisms and idiosyncrasies. Granted, that is a bit of a high bar for a short story with a particular message… but I still thought it was worth mentioning. Still, very interesting story, and very solid central idea to it!

      1. I would love to know what the more proper vocab would be for this situation, and I do apologize for overlooking that aspect. I really do appretiate all your feedback on my recent stories

        1. Aracnarquista Avatar
          Aracnarquista

          I’m really not sure if the greeks have something that would have a similar connotation to the later demon. And the closest I can think of something similar to hell for them would be, maybe, Tartarus (though it is similar just by a very long stretch, in thinking it is a place of punishment). But as said before, those are two very small things, and the story works, anachronism and all.

    3. Interesting…interesting…

      So the warrior keeps getting teleported out and coming back? What is the problem though? The demon seems to be some sort of guard, but if he’s willing to let the warrior go into Limbo to get to Hell, why doesn’t he just… let him? Or is the Warrior just set on killing the Gate Guard despite it not even opposing him? Does the Warrior have to go through some sort of portal the Demon has to open, and that’s the “trust me” part?

      Either way, this kind of feels like the Warrior’s own Limbo/Hell. Almost a sisyphean task, constantly being set back outside the gate… at least until he’s “improved” by learning to be able to trust a perceived enemy.

      1. I would like it to be known the original draft was edging 700 words, I tried so hard to keep all the information of what the hell was happening intact, but I knew a bit would be lost and I knew I wasn’t gonna fully see where it all got chopped, thank you though for your feedback! It’s always greatly appreciated

  3. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
    MelancholicOtaku

    The Harvest Moon

    By MelancholicOtaku

    Once upon a harvest moon, when Mother Earth prepares for her annual slumber, the living and the dead meet. For most, it was a festive occasion, with the smells of vanilla and cinnamon mixed in with the gathering of abstract masks that were colorful and unique.

    “Tonight’s harvest, dare I say, looks absolutely stunning.”

    “Oh, who am I?” Please forgive my rudeness. “I am the ferryman, your guide to the spectacular city of the spirits.”

    “Dear traveler, tonight’s story is a romance; please witness the Tale of Acacius and Sophia.”

    In a small, cozy village, there lived a peculiar young fellow. In his private workshop, he is always tinkering, his sea-colored eyes full of new gadgets and gizmos.
    “Acacias, come along now; the harvest has
    begun,” an elderly voice cried out.

    The ever-busy Acacius, tinkering away at his next invention, smiled. The harvest moon was special, as always, and his dear Sophia would be waiting for him. After a few joyous tears, the two will share a lovely meal—perhaps a special “dessert”—while admiring everything that the city of
    Hade has to offer.
    “Acacius.”

    “I’m coming, grandfather,” he answered quickly, grabbing a few things, including a golden coin.

    Ahh, the city of Hades was quite a sight. It was the place where the spirits dwelt. Tall skyscrapers illuminated the eternal night sky. Lights of neon were also added to give a more festive mood. In front of the city were majestic gates, and the ever-seeing gatekeeper held the key.

    “Shhh, quiet down now.” “You know the
    rules: one gold coin,” said the troll-like fellow.

    Stepping through the gates, Acacius smiled at the moment he was waiting for, but lost in his thoughts, the young inventor didn’t notice the tight embrace meant only for him.

    “Your head in the clouds as always,” the voice said, a slight giggle accompanying it.
    “Sophia.” A soft smile appeared on Acacius’ face.

    1. This is an interesting story. The style of it probably intrigues me the most, as it sounds like a storyteller talking directly to the reader as opposed to just being a straightforward story. I had to read the story a few times, but it was still an interesting read.

      I liked the inclusion of Greek mythology, in the form of Charon narrating the story. It looked to me like he was only doing it to pass the time, which was an interesting framing device, not nearly enough used in my opinion. And I won’t lie, the ending did make me smile. It’s pretty clear how much Acacius and Sophia care about each other, even from this small sequence.

      Well written!

    2. Amazing job MelancholicOtaku! For the sake of not repeating what Alex said I’ll leave to to read that post and give some other thoughts instead.

      The thing that stands out to me the most in this story is the setting. Not only is it reminiscent of celebrations like Dia de los Muertos, but it also puts a fun modern twist on the domain of Hades, much like the musical Hadestown did. This creates a fun and varied colour palette and set of tones for the reader to play around with in their minds.

      Most of the rest of my comments have already been covered by Alex. Again, amazing job!

  4. In the Grips of Despair
    by Lunabear

    What was so wrong with him?

    His languid heart felt as though it were turned inside out; he wished it would stop.

    He’d never been kicked in the gut by a steel-toed boot before, but he imagined this was how it felt.

    The singer belting out woes and what ifs from the music device matched his mood. The mess of a room he lay in emulated the inner workings of his mind.

    Had he been so undeserving?

    How could it be possible that not one but BOTH of them had rejected him? The first had been gentle and apologetic. The second hadn’t minced words but without cruelty. Both had shown adamancy and sympathy, however.

    Did he hate them for it? How could he? Those were their choices, and he had to honor them.

    No, he didn’t think he hated them, although that was too difficult to determine, with brambles scrambling his thoughts and the steady fireball growing inside of his sternum.

    The tears sprang to life and danced on the precipice of his vision, but he shouldn’t, no COULDN’T, allow them to fall. If that happened, they wouldn’t stop. He’d sink deeper into the mire of his own insecurities, of his own inadequacies.

    He rolled to his back on the bare mattress. A steady drip, drip, drip from the nearby kitchen indicated a leaky faucet. His phone vibrated from some unknown location. A call or message from whoever.

    He didn’t care.

    Was he such a bad person? The cracked and peeling ceiling provided neither comfort nor answers.

    Why wasn’t he enough for love? To BE loved. Why had he never been given an opportunity to prove that he was worthy to offer and accept that one emotion?

    His hands, much like frightened butterflies, flew up to his face and provided an ineffective yet much needed barrier against the world.

    The fireball built to an inferno, scorching him from the inside out.

    Why could he not find the one thing he’d always longed for?

    With no one and nothing present save himself and his unmitigated heartbreak, he acquiesced to his grief.

    1. Great story!

      I’m very curious about when these rejections happened. It seems odd he’d be so broken up about them if they were close together. Mostly because I feel like he wouldn’t be that invested in either if they were even within weeks of each other.

      If this was like, “Last year I fell in love and got rejected. This year I fell in love and got rejected again” then I think that would make the rejections hit harder.

      Either way, the “I’m just gonna sit in my room and listen to music and cry” is certainly a vibe. Not a good vibe, but a vibe nonetheless.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      The descriptions, the choice of words… wow. Really powerful writing here. Very intense and evocative stuff. I feel a bit at a loss at who any of the three characters are, and that would usually detract a bit from the story – but here it is all about the feelings and the dealing of the feelings. Character melts into the drama, so it is all good. Well, not good. Miserable, filled with self-doubt, confusion and pain. Which… well, it is. Really evocative.

      Great story, really. You sure have a way with words, and a way of using them to paint strong emotions and the way they run you over and leave just a desolation behind.

  5. The Missing Link Avatar
    The Missing Link

    Into the Abyss
    By: The Missing Link

    November 3

    Twenty thousand leagues they say, sheer lunacy. At most, the ocean bottoms out at around four, and yet, the depth sensor just passed twenty thousand meters, five leagues and counting.

    The Mariana Trench looms above me, an Everest of water ready to burst my vessel like a grape at the slightest damage.

    November 4

    The creatures down here are truly fascinating. Scaleless fish glide through the water, fleeing at the slightest perturbation. Many stare out with dead eyes as they project their own eerie glow through the inky depths.

    Now this is a truly magnificent find. This octopus has the strangest eyes, little tubes jutting out from a transparent body.

    November 6

    The trench keeps going down with no end in sight. The depth sensor puts my vessel at about twenty seven thousand meters now, nearly double the measured depth of our previous calculations for the bottom, though I’d be hard pressed to say the fish care.

    Many of the sharks down here were thought extinct. To think of the stir the discovery of the coelacanth brought, I’ll be a legend.

    November 9

    Fuel may soon become a problem if I can’t find the bottom.

    November 14

    The walls of the cavern are beginning to show an incline as they narrow.

    I had a rather unpleasant shock this morning when something brushed the top of my capsule. Looking out the window, I saw a frighteningly large eye staring back at me before its owner darted up towards the surface, a squid to put those the sailors tell stories of to shame. For the first time on this journey, the fact that I am not alone did not reassure me.

    November 19

    Thirty-five thousand meters. This definitely shouldn’t be possible. My craft should be melting in magma at this depth, not floating through silent, frigid water. Something is wrong.

    November 20

    I was resolved yesterday to reverse course in the morning, but I saw something, a glow of sorts, brighter than anything I’d seen in weeks. I have to investigate.

    I…

    From the journal of Raghav Nemo.

    1. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
      MelancholicOtaku

      First wonderful use of the prompt.

      The sea and underworld have a bit common ,both places that I and probably others are curious about. These mysterious places,new worlds with otherworldly creatures,and then there’s the tension you created, good job .

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I really like the style of journaling as the register for a descent into the depths of the oceanic abyss. Specially considering that, at least on my take on the story, this is all about obsession with an unreachable goal. Journaling is a great way of conveying small processes that happen over time, and also a great way of conveying the changes in the mental state of the one writing the log. So to me the whole piece finds its thematic core at the entry to November 9. Before that, there is a lot of descriptions of the findings, the wonder they bring, the possible results of the expedition. And that one is concise in just the realization that there might not be enough supplies to reach the bottom, wherever the bottom is.

      Which begs the question… considering that it has already reached depths previously though unimaginable, why not turn back and prepare a new expedition in the future? Why keep venturing into the unknown once you have already cleared records and made new discoveries, despite the danger it might entails? I’m sure there is more than just one answer to this question, but an I said, I read it as an story of obsession. Maybe that’s the effect fathoming the abyss has on the minds of land-dwellers.

      Way to vast, way too deep.

      Vaster and deeper than a human mind can encompass.

      Vaster and deeper than a human mind.

      And, of course, the measurements impossibilities of the descent afterwards add to the strangeness of the story, adds a layer of horror and incomprehension. Still, to me, that’s is more a tragedy of personal horror than of ambiental horror. And using the ambient to tell such a story is great.

  6. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “The End of the Beginning”

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    We entered a part of the cave that had a low ceiling. The torches guttered and flared as they scorched the stone roof of the chamber. Our party moved slowly, half walking half crouching, as we roamed amid the stalagmites and stone columns. It was quiet except for the steady dripping of water into various small pools around us. The cave narrowed ahead into a short corridor. The darkness around us way thick and cloying, barely kept away by our torches and lanterns.

    Oren Longtooth called out ahead of me, “I think I see a larger chamber ahead of us!”

    I looked up to see. The short corridor ahead seemed to show largely blackness, indicating the chamber ahead must be large enough that the light didn’t reach it fully. Then rancid warm air burst from the opening causing our torches to gutter further. It stopped quickly enough, but a chill ran down my spine in response. Something felt wrong.

    Oren was now past the corridor. He was eager to find the entrance to the underworld. He was the reason we were down here. He hoped to recover his lost love Anara from the clutches of the Dark Below. He had rushed ahead past the corridor and was now shifting his lantern about trying to light up the chamber beyond.

    “By the spirts of the saints,” he called out back to us, “this is it!”

    We all rushed forward, as well as we could, and there were several sighs of relief as we exited into the larger chamber. There ahead of us stood the beginning of the stairwell that descended into the Dark Below. Surprisingly there were no guards barring the way, only carved steps descending into the darkness. The staircase spiraled downward, bound to a central stone column. The column was carved with leering demonic faces making one wary about leaning on the central column. In contrast, there were no guard rails or outer walls to lean on, the sides of the stairwell simply plunged into darkness far below.

    We began our fateful descent.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, that word “fateful” at the end is so well placed.

      Surely, nothing bad will come of this little expedition.

      I love how atmospheric it feels (is it right to use the word atmospheric to described the underground? probably!), and how ominous each step of the journey seem to be. And it is just fitting that it is ominous. I don’t really recall a lot of incursions into the lands of the dead (or, in this case, to the Dark Belows) that end well.

      I love the small touches at the end. No guards appear to indicate there is at least one problem they won’t have dealing with… though the message of not needing any guards to protect the entrance says enough. And then, there is the repetition on how the spiraling stairs seem to have no guard to protect one from falling – which is a great repetition.

      Great story!

    2. Not sure why, but I thought the steps would be on the outside wall of the chamber, not going around a pillar in the center(?) of the room.

      The thing I really like about this is that it really fits the prompt. It’s not about what’s IN the underworld, or how successful the venture into the underworld is. It is about /going into/ the Underworld.

      Was honestly expecting something a little more than a massive staircase… Or perhaps the underworld is closer than it seems. Either way, you definitely made it clear that whatever is at the bottom of those steps is not going to be pleasant.

    3. what a beautifully visual piece, I loved it. you really did a great job with setting the vibe of it all. like it felt like half a dairy entry half a flashback, like a cutscene from a video game and it worked SO WELL. this is something I would absolutely love to see more of!

    4. There’s always a catch to journeys like this. Be it not having the Obols for the trip _back_, or turning at the last minute to smile at the retrieved love interest, or just plain didn’t think things through.

      Journeys to the Underworld to get the lost ones back are fraught with catches. It’s not expected to defeat death. Even in these stories.

  7. Round and Down We Go (COTD)
    By Makokam

    Thomas walked to the front of the ship with Mira, where Jostica stood feeling vindicated. Blaise followed along with the others. “Told you so,” she taunted as they reached the front.

    “Hng,” Thomas grunted.

    “Okay, but the ocean is turning upside-down. Do we need to worry about this?” Blaise asked.

    “Uhm” Jostica said. “No. Space is just warping. So, down will still be down.”

    “Wait, like, our down now will still be down?!”

    “What? No! Down will still be towards the ocean.”

    “But this water slide from hell is going down!”

    “Look,” Jostica held out her cloak, “If I twist my cloak around, the outside is still the outside and the inside is the inside, right?”

    “Yes!”

    “No!”

    “AUGH!” Jostica threw her arms up and pushed through the crowd. “Whatever! Panic if you want, but we’re going to be fine!” She walked back towards the bridge. “And who’s steering the boat!?”

    “It’s on auto-pilot!”

    “Well I’m more worried about your GPS going in there than I am about the gravity!”

    “I thought you said it was fine.”

    “We’re still moving through space but the space isn’t where the satellite thinks it is!”

    Mira turned to Thomas. “If you’re wondering, that is an incredibly valid point.”

    “I’ll go back to steering the ship.”

    Everyone, even Mira, gripped something bolted down with a silent desperation as the boat followed the spiraling ocean down. Except for Jostica, who leaned determinedly against a wall, arms crossed over her chest.

    The ship continued, unfazed by the twisting of reality or the vomit hitting its deck.

    Several agonizing minutes later, the ship made it through the twisting vortex in reality, and pulled up to anchor at an island. With the ocean and the sky beneath their feet, the group of heroes stepped onto the beach.

    “I’ll scout ahead,” Blaise said, and zipped away.

    “We shouldn’t let her be on her own too long,” Thomas stated, and started walking after her.

    Jostica lagged behind, looking back the way they came. With a sigh she turned back to look up at the massive temple to an alien God.

    1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      Interesting short piece Makokam. I think it worked well that you focused on the interaction (and frustration) of the various characters. The illustration with the cloak just sort of well illustrated the confusion the crew (other than Jostica) must be feeling about the space distortion. It all seemed to wrap up nicely as well with the arrival on the island at the bottom of the sea. And that final image of Jostica turning back from the sea and ship to look at the massive temple and what I assume was a massive statue of an alien deity a top the temple. That or its a literal alien god sitting there, in which case I’d be much more worried if it was a living being just looking back at Jostica!

      1. Thank you!

        Part of the fun of this was coming up with ways to explain it well, but also still be confusing. One of those situations where it not being “perfect” is better because Jostica’s having to explain this on the fly to a bunch of people on the verge of panic.

        While it would be cool, there’s no statue of this alien god. Nor is it actually perched on the building. I imagine it looking kind of like The Fortress of Solitude or some sort of stone origami. And HUGE.

        I hope to get to explore this arc further in the future.

    2. Sounds like such an amazing adventure.

      1. I certainly hope to make it one!

    3. This is impressive! You were able to fit a LOT of dialogue in here to describe a very tricky situation and it reads as a natural conversation and not clunky exposition. And the fact that you used four talking people was definitely a feat and could not have been easy. I usually do three max, continuity be damned.

      That said, you got a lot of good stuff in here as to how the magically and non magically inclined would react to a reality warping situation like this. You’d be freaking the Hell out. Along with things like the GPS not working right, making complete sense.

      I will say there were some bits where it was hard to tell who was talking though. Like there were so many people introduced in the first two sentences that you’d have to assume the one talking was the last person mentioned, who was Blaise. But I’m assuming it was Jostica who was talking. I also didn’t initially get that when Jostica did the Cloak analogy(which I loved by the way) that she wasn’t the one who said “No!”

      But as I said, getting four people in a 350 word story is haaaaard so I’d imagine you were fighting the word limit with this one and even then you can still easily follow what’s happening and it’s a very fun read.

      Great take on the prompt!

      1. Thank you!

        Doing all the dialogue was actually easier than in most cases, cause I /wanted/ it to be unclear who was talking. I don’t know just how many people are on the boat, but I wanted it to be at least five, not counting Jostica, and have a bunch of people talking at once.

        I probably should have had a question mark as well on that “No!”.

        The GPS thing is me imagining it as like, with the space compressed and twisted, the satellite signal might not be exactly accurate…or at all. And so if the ship was still following directions from it, it could be…bad.

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

      This was fun!! I always love your stories about R’lyeh.

      Also, was Mira always on the trip, and I just didn’t connect she was Imogene’s sister until now? Because that’s interesting

      I love the action packed nature of this scene. Who doesn’t love a good “we’re sailing into a vortex where reality collapses” scene? XD

      My favorite part of their conversation was when Jostica twisted her cloak around. I was really lost and then when I got to that it made more sense XD
      And I would say…yes the inside is still the inside, but it’s irrelevant because it’s all twisted around itself so there’s no real direction.

      I also love the
      “Told you so,” she taunted as they reached the front.
      “Hng,” Thomas grunted.”
      XD
      I assume Thomas is the one who threw up too?
      I just love the idea of
      Blaise and Jostica:* heated deep argument*
      Thomas: *incoherent blubbering*
      XD
      It’d be extra funny if earlier on he was like “things might get bumpy, you sure you can handle it?”
      Or else that Jostica said that? and Thomas was like “Psh, oh please”

      The last line was super epic too.

      All that being said… I found myself more confused with this story than I usually am with your stories. And, to be fair, the topic you’re working with is inherently confusing, so it makes sense XD But still.
      Part of it was what Marx said; once I hit “yes!” “No!” I was pretty much lost as to who was saying what, (and if it was still just Blaise and Jostica, or if Mira and/or Thomas were also talking). I was also at a loss during the auto-pilot/gps conversation. I assume what was actually being said is that gps is useless when the world is turned upside down, but I was confused in the specific lines of dialogue.

      Anywho, very fun story!! I’m excited to see more of their journey at some point!!

      1. “This was fun!! I always love your stories about R’lyeh.”
        Thank you! I think I’ve come back to this little plot point more than any other.

        “Also, was Mira always on the trip, and I just didn’t connect she was Imogene’s sister until now?”
        She has! She’s actually been in a few of these.

        “Who doesn’t love a good ‘we’re sailing into a vortex where reality collapses’ scene? XD”
        Nobody. That’s who.

        “My favorite part of their conversation was when Jostica twisted her cloak around. I was really lost and then when I got to that it made more sense”
        Good to know it worked as an explanation.

        “I assume Thomas is the one who threw up too?”
        I mean, it can be if you want. I had no character in mind.

        “I found myself more confused with this story than I usually am with your stories. And, to be fair, the topic you’re working with is inherently confusing, so it makes sense XD”
        To be fair, dialogue wise, I wanted it do be a little confusing. Wanted to get the feel of a group of people talking at once.
        For the GPS, I was thinking of… imagine a paper map. Now crumple part of it up. Now imagine a laser pointer pointing at an ant crawling along the map. The ant is moving across the map, but the laser pointer may not move much if at all. This could make the boat go off course, stop, or even crash.
        But this is new territory for even Mira, so they’re not sure what will happen. But it’s a possibility.

    5. YAY! Space warping, MC Escher stuff! I love how matter-of-fact Jostica is about all this, and everyone else is confused and panicky about it. This was fun.
      Sorry if the review is short.

      1. Short reviews are good too!

        Jostica specialized her studies on things like illusions and tracking, which would also give her an idea of how magic effects space, so she’s got a pretty good grip on something like this.

    6. Sailing through reality portals is always the kind of interesting that’s unpleasantly like being drunk. To use a Douglas Adams phrase.

      I can understand why folks on board were feeling ill.

  8. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    As Above, So Below?
    by Aracnarquista

    Marco has been writing on the walls again. I wonder how long it will be until one of my colleagues notifies our employers about it. It is our duty, after all. In fact, I am surprised that, at least until now, we managed to keep that development out little secret, even without any communication between us.

    By protocol, the exchange of messages among the keepers is expressly and strictly prohibited. Each of us stay at the lighthouse for a period of three months, in complete isolation. There are six of us in total,  and we are forbidden to ever seek each other. A strange request, but the pay is incredibly good, so there is no real reason to complain.

    And it is not, by far, the strangest request.

    Most of what we do is very typical for other lighthouse keepers: maintenance and general care to the machinery and the lighthouse; exchanging signal patterns when the weather changes, that sort of thing. But there is also the weekly descent to the underlamp.

    Beneath the lighthouse tower, there is another lighthouse. An inverse one. The stairway descends into a well that is roughly four times as long as the one that ascends to the upper lamp. At its bottom, there is another lamp – of sorts. It does not project light, at least, none that is visible to my eyes. We need to descend into the well once a week, and do checks and maintenance to that strange lamp as well. It is paramount that we do not expend more than thirty-eight minutes in its cold presence. And we do not ask why we do that.

    So there is that. In our entire shift – three months of solitude and silence – we need to bear with roughly eight hours of strangeness. I never once saw a ship passing anywhere near the lighthouse. I do not know what it is we signal for with the underlamp. I never heard or read a word from my fellow colleagues.

    But Marco has been writing on the walls of the well. His messages are for none of us.

    1. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      This story does one of my favourite things in creative writing: it has wonderful, evocative imagery, and an intriguing concept. I very much like the idea of the lighthouse stairs descending into an inverse lighthouse, and the many questions one must pose about its purpose.

      Lighthouses in general tend to show up a lot in fiction; even under normal circumstances, they’re pretty intriguing. . . Just this lonely building, its sole purpose acting as a beacon to prevent shipwrecks.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        I just love the whole image of a lighthouse. There is something so bucolic, poetic, and at the same time ominous about these edifications. No wonder I feel draw to them (like moths to a flame).

        And, well, I got a lot of questions on my way about the story as well. Most of the elements here I have some glimpses of where they could mean – but is that what they really mean? Sometimes, in these stormy nights when the waves cover the rocks, it is difficult to discern what is the dark water and what is the rocks that will doom the ship. Which might be even more true in the underside…

        Thanks a lot for the comment!

    2. I loved the way you went from the slight anoyance, almost as the one parent would have about their child to the great unknown that is lurking down below the surface and behind the writings on the wall. The lighthouse was great location for this somewhat horror like piece.
      The way you described the lighthouse was very graceful and it managed to perfectly paint image into my mind.

      Great job

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment. I really like the idea of a character, alone, having all the time in the world to deal with strangeness. They do not have to obsess over it, but can they not? Three months alone with few tasks and possibly no other ways to occupy oneself can drive one mad. And… well, imagine you have something incredibly strange that you are required not to engage with more than some minutes to comply with a task you don’t really understand. That’s a recipe for paranoia.
        I really hope they are paying them very, very well.

    3. And again a very interesting story you came up with. There’s just enough to roughly get the situation; and that is described very poetically, in a way. I, as well as other commentors, really like the pictures it envokes. But there’s also just enough not explained – what’s the lighthouse for, and especially the lower part? Why are the keepers not allowed to communicate? Why are there six of them? And who the hell is Marco?
      Really, a very enjoyable mystery.

      The only thing I’d critique would be the repetition of “lamp” in the fourth paragraph, it does sound a little weird to me; I wouldn’t know how to better phrase that right now though, and it is kinda nit-picky, since it doesn’t really detract from the story.

      So, all in all, thank you for writing and sharing this story!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        And thank you for the comment.

        It seems like the questions keep fermenting and multiplying. Who is Marco, indeed? At first, I though he was another lighthouse keeper, but now I’m not so sure. How would the narrator know his name, considering all he said about being prohibited to communicate with the others? And if he is not… then things are even stranger.

        I do think I can answer why there are six of them. Not a complete answer, but this is a taxing job, and the idea is that they are have a lot of time to recover after their shifts. Six might be a little excessive… or it might be that the number itself holds some ulterior meaning. Or maybe it is just that Marco prefers it this way.

        Or that it is one of these numbers that seem to work (and even grow) when turned upside-down. Nah, that I made up right now. Or did I just discover it?

    4. You really have me intrigued with who or what Marco is. It’s possible that he’s another employee we never meet because of the specific scheduling, and instruction to never meet. Then there’s the dark undertone that the employees and the employer know who Marco is and did something to him, and his messages are a call for help. But the rest of the context leads me to believe that Marco is supernatural in origin, and is from the Underlamp.

      And I would’ve liked to have seen what the messages are. What do the messages on the wall say? And how do we know they’re not for the other employees? Who are these messages for? Are they a call for help? Are they for the mighty Flesh Horse?

      There’s so much mystery behind this isolated world that I really want to know more.

      I enjoyed this so here’s a LIKE I wrote on the wall.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot!

        If I were to guess, I’d be pretty sure Marco messages are just spam and advertisements. Nothing could be more horrific than that: imagine three months in which all you could read were spam messages and advertisements for things you have no interest in? The protagonist might consider he is payed well enough, but he should have gone with the premium plan – no ads, just oceanic horror.

        Though, being serious, I’m kind of grateful for the word limit. If I had more words, I’d be compelled to deal with the message more, and nothing I could come about would be better than what the reader’s minds can conjure.

        (And it might be a coincidence – except those do not exist when we are dealing with things as sublime as that -, but I had just mentioned that the Flesh Horse is aquatic when it deems to be… so there is that.)

    5. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      I have to agree with Norman Gray that the idea introduced here is interesting and the imagery here is amazing. It’s kind of odd how this piece manages to talk about a lot while at the same time explaining very little… And it all works. It feels like the beginning of a more high-concept creepypasta.

      I wonder why nobody would be allowed to communicate with one another, considering a lighthouse expressly require multiple workers in order to avoid one man going crazy by himself and potentially failing with no one to pick up the slack. I kind of wonder if there are any other workers at all…

      Overall this story was fantastic and very well written with a very cool premise!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment!

        Now that you mention it, I believe I had the idea of writing in the style of a creepypasta as a guiding line that just got out of focus as I went by with the writing. So, yeah, not that I stopped writing like that, but I ended up forgetting that was the style I was going for after a while.

        I had some ideas to write about the whole thing about the shifts and how the work routine would be, but the word limit cut those ideas short. One of the beats I was really trying to work with was about the “upper” lamp systems being most automatized (like most of them are, nowadays), and implying their work there had little to do with that part of the lighthouse. The other lamp, down the well, on the other hand… well, that one can’t be modernized. After all, they didn’t even understand how it works. I’m not even sure why they call it a lamp.

        Still, this is indeed something to wonder. Are there other workers? I’m not even sure how much the narrator knows about what he is disclosing here!

    6. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I’ll start with the most interesting and evocative part of the story, it’s ending where it is revealed the messages Marco has been leaving are “for none of us.” The story evokes to me elements of Lovecraftian darkness and sinisterness. It’s implied that the messages are therefore for someone else, assumably for mysterious denizens of the darkness below the well that the underlamp signal. We get good build up to this ending with all the description of the various restrictions placed on the keepers. It seems clear that the restrictions are to prevent communication regarding what’s really going on, and to reduce the discussion of potential clues as to what is really going on in the story. The restrictions acts as a rising action through the story, which lead us back to the beginning’s topic of Marco’s writing on the walls, while also building to the topic as an ending. We don’t even get details about what the messages are, yet their significance comes across anyway, at least in a sense. All in all, an excellent short piece!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment.

        And, yup, I had a bit of Lovercraftian horror in mind while writing it (looking at images of isolated lighthouses conjures images of things from the depths that might defy what we accept as possible in this reality). At first, I was not sure about how to end the story. But after a while, returning to the beginning, leaning on that very first line and expanding on it seemed like the way to go. I am very glad it worked!

        Anyway, strangeness and the unknown are very interesting things to write about. I never know how exactly to pull that off, but most of the time the act of writing itself start giving me clues on where to go, how to tie it all together.

        I wonder if Marco messages didn’t come from a similar experience…

    7. you have such a way with writing ya know. I mean this is just a dude talking about his job and the oddities that came with it but it was such a smooth read. the use of the prompt too was very loose with served you incredibly well. I will say though I don’t see the point of Marco except as as bait to hook the reader to the rest of the story, he feels very disconnected.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks for the comment. Granted, I can see how it might feel disconnected. But at least to my eyes, the whole point of him is to bring us into the strangeness (and, possibly, the descent into madness) through a proxy that is not the narrator – so as to preserve the narrator to be seen as going crazy, but also to leave the question that this might be the case. We don’t know who Marco is. Perhaps, he is another one of the keepers. They are prohibited from communicating with each other. Yet, he is leaving messages. What has made him do so? Has those moments with the underlamp and the mystery of their work drove him to madness? It is also not the first time he has done so…

        And if he is not one of the lighjthouse keepers, who is he? The narrator says they work for months in complete solitude. There shouldn’t be another person with them. And yet, we know Marco exist. So, if he is not a keeper, what do it does at the lonesome lighthouse?

        Also… there is the possibility that Marco and the narrator are one and the same. Unable to deal with the strangeness of it all, and wanting to keep the well-paying job, the narrator might have dissociated the part of them that can’t deal with it all. Is Marco real? Are the messages real?

        Perhaps the word you used to describe him – disconnected – is more true than I even though while writing, and in some very, very surprising senses!

    8. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      Well this is an interesting idea. Eldritch lighthouse maintenance, complete with someone who saw behind the veil. I do imagine the rest of the three months wouldn’t be particularly pleasant either, being so entirely isolated, but money’s money. I was a bit confused by the second paragraph. Prerogative seems like the wrong word to use there since it means the opposite of what it sounds like is being said.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks for the comment. Yeah, I don’t think that entire time there will be very pleasant. And dealing with that which unnerves us for prolonged time periods is, to me, a lot more horrific than the sudden rushes of horror most stories try to deal with. Time can get into one’s brain, corrodes one mind… and who knows what one might do when having to deal with protracted anxiety?

        And, yeah, I get what you say about the usage of the word prerogative in the second paragraph. I made a confusion (and a confusing phrasal construction) in employing it, and ended up giving the opposite meaning of what I was trying to. Thanks for pointing it out!

  9. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    Daisies
    by Lee Strangely

    Bill couldn’t really say how long he’d been walking at this point. There were no lights upon the tunnel’s thick dirt walls apart from that of his own dim lantern. Though, one thing was for certain; judging by the hundreds upon hundreds of footprints that covering the path, he was nowhere near the first to come here.

    All the tracks went in the same direction with little deviation. Wandering around, Bill began to wonder about things like where exactly he was, how did he get here, and at what point did he get a lantern…

    Oddly enough, as he batted away the various roots hanging from the ceiling, every once in a while, he felt the sudden urge to push smaller roots back up into the soil…

    Sometime later, Bill had become ecstatic when light other than his own emerged from the dark. It was another lantern held by another man. He looked a bit gaunt, and much older than Bill.

    “You new here?” the man asked.

    “Depends, where exactly is here?”
    The man pointed above Bill, “You missed one.”

    Though confused, Bill instinctively pushed another root into the dirt anyway.

    “I assume that you don’t know how you got here, that you just appeared here already moving?”

    “Um, yeah,” Bill timidly replied, “that’s right…”

    “Yeah, it’s like a dream when it happens.”

    “When what happens?”

    “Passing.”

    “Passing?”

    “Death.”

    Bill’s heart sank like lead, “I-I’m dead?”

    As if to make sure, the man looked him up and down, “Yep.”

    The man then continued walking, Bill following with him.

    “So where exactly are we going?” Bill asked. “Is it, you know,” he motioned the man pointing down, “or,” then he pointed up.

    “It’s the world for the dead.”

    “Which one?”

    “Beats me.”

    “Well, can you at least answer why we keep uncontrollably pushing up roots?”

    “The daisies…”

    “What?”

    “The daisies. They’re not gonna push themselves up there are they?”

    1. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      I love the last line. I cannot help but think of Franz Kafka when I read it – absurd and illogically logical.

      You also came up with a very inventive idea for life after death. Not the usual Heaven and Hell, but something new and completely bizarre and eerie. Yet at the same time, your writing style can’t help but make me chuckle at the nonsensical situation.

      Well done!

    2. Haha! I see what you did there.

      I like the dialogue traded between the two. One is new and doesn’t understand his situation, and the other knows slightly more but is lost on where they are and what for
      except to habitually push up daisies, literally.

      I don’t know what to say about this aside from this was enjoyable and punny.

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I love how it starts pretty disorienting, and then the more things get clear, the more it appears we are dealing with a different set of logic and rules than normal reality would apply – fitting, for the theme of the story.

      I get a lot of questions about how the other lantern-carrier knows what he knows. Is there always someone with more information to pass to the others? Is that a “turtles all the way down” kind of situation, or is there more to the land of dead than wandering and pushing up daisies?

      Guess this will not be answered by the living.

      There are two things that bother me a little bit. Two very minor things. I think the story could benefit from a sense of time, or from a sense of timelessness. The way it is told, time does not really factor in (and its perceived absence is also not an element explored). But I really think someone finding himself alone in an unknown location, with questions to ask and no one to answer, and compelled to do a repetitive task would wonder about the passing of time. How long has he been pushing up daisies and wandering while alone? Some minutes, a few days, perhaps a short eternity? This is certainly not a necessity, but I think dealing with that would help with impact.

      And, lastly, I don’t think the title spoiling the ending helps with the tone of the ending. Due to the title, it was pretty clear from the beginning what he was doing, so that last line came a bit weak. I guess this would hit very differently with a different title that didn’t prompt me to thing of that idiom – I can see the last line working and the surprise of the act paying off, but it was not my experience.

      Anyway, just two minor bits of criticism in a otherwise very interesting and well written story.

    4. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
      MelancholicOtaku

      The story seems otherworldly to me in away lol but that’s a good thing, I wonder what the underworld would consist of. Especially love how the Mc didn’t notice he was dead,makes sense I picture that’s how most would be .

    5. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      Ok the joke at the end here is pretty great. It does make me wonder who the other man is and paints a pretty bleak picture of death if it’s eternity pushing up daisies in a tunnel, but it’s also just absurd in a fun way. Definitely a fun read. Good job.

  10. J. J. Peterson Avatar
    J. J. Peterson

    The Dock
    J. J. Peterson

    Jenna stood on the edge of the dock, short brown hair blowing around her face.

    “I’m not so sure,” the young girl said, “That boat looks awfully rickety.”

    “Come on,” her friend, Tom, pleaded, “It’ll be an adventure!” He was standing in an old rowboat, one hand grasping the dock while he waited for Jenna to join him.

    “It doesn’t sound like a very nice place.”

    “But there’s loads of adventures and dead heros!” He stood up, striking a dramatic pose with the paddle, then quickly grabbed onto the dock again when the boat started to rock dangerously back and forth.

    “Oh, have you been there before?”

    “No, but everyone knows that, come on!” Finally succumbing to the pressure, Jenna slipped into the boat and Tom pushed off the dock. As they drifted out into the ash gray lake, louder than their giggles of glee, echoed rolling peels of thunder. The smooth gray waters were transformed into mammoth hills by a howling and tearing wind. Lightninning shattered the dark sky and rain pelted the two in the small boat from every side. Their small boat rode up one wave and down another, their two small, damp bodies clutching each other on the bottom of the boat.

    Then, a wave crashed against the boat and Jenna and Tom were tossed into the merciless grip of the sea. Down, down, down Jenna tumbled. Her hair spread out behind her as her last few bubbles streamed up and out of her reach.

    Darkness enveloped her for an interminable amount of time, before Jenna found herself on a dock yet again. This one, though, was full of holes and creaked whenever she took a step. Out on the misty lake, deep underground, a shape began to take form. As it drew nearer Jenna began to make out a figure, standing up right on a broken down rowboat.

    It pulled up alongside her at the dock, and a hollow voice rasped from its hooded face, “Please, step aboard.”

    “I’m not so sure,” Jenna said, “That boat looks awfully rickety.”

  11. Mango Gravy Avatar
    Mango Gravy

    Safe Trip (Content Warning: Body Horror)
    By Mango Gravy

    Alright, navigating this town takes more than maps. It takes know-how. I’d hate to lose a paying client so take my tips seriously.

    Now, this area was bio-bombed during the war. It’s safe nowadays, but don’t lick anything. Those mounds of pulsating flesh on the walls? Those are humans, and they’re still alive. Unsightly as hell, but they’re a lovely bunch. One of them taught me how to keep my basil alive.

    If you see anyone who’s ten feet tall or has too many limbs, you’re looking at the average local. If they act aggressive, remember they’re just playing around. Stand your ground and they’ll give you a cold beer. Might even escort you to my place. If you flinch, worst they’ll do is call you names.

    Pherofreaks are perpetually nude and always caught up in one form of debauchery or another. They secrete pheromones that entice anyone and everyone to join them. It’s illegal, but people come to this part of town for the express purpose of breaking the law. Your gas mask should keep you safe but they have other means of luring people in. Most of them are extremely attractive.

    You’ll encounter a few hives too. People who’ve sown their bodies together and linked their neurons to form a tight knit community, pun intended. You’ve probably seen some out in the country, but the city variety is… Well they aren’t known to ask nicely before growing their congregation. The ones here are hecking big, but slow too. Observe from a safe distance.

    My shop is in a particularly unpleasant part of town because it’s also home to a host of bioengineers, and not the nice kind. They’re employed by the government to make bioweapons. You know, in case they’re needed.

    Me? No, I’m self-employed.

    Anyway, they tend to be pretty brazen about getting test subjects. No place in the city is really safe but if you’re in this area it’s assumed that you won’t be missed. Tread lightly, and keep your nightshade pills ready.

    And there we have it. Stay safe, and I’ll see you there.

    1. You know, I really enjoyed the matter of fact tone your narrator has, describing this very weird city and its inhabitants. I think it makes this story something of a horror comedy, which is something I do like every once in a while, even if I’m usually not that into horror.
      But this one got me, somehow. I especially find the ideas for the creatures you included very fascinating.
      I wonder what else our tour guide would have shown/told us, if you didn’t have that word limit. I’d love to read more of this.

      Thank you for writing and sharing!

  12. Kalod’s Furnace (World of Shadows)

    By Thunder

    “Have we been here before?”

    “Silence!” growled the figure at the front of the line. Hagen der Bösartige glared backward through the gloom at the wights under his command.

    One of them, Godric, snorted. “I think we can converse, Your Highness. They’ll never hear us over the Furnace.”

    Hagen was inclined to disagree, but at that moment the volcano whose caldera they were slowly climbing down shook, and a fresh wave of sulphureous smoke billowed up. “Don’t call me that,” he responded instead before returning his attention to the treacherous path. “To answer your question, necromancers, in addition to being foul creatures by nature, are also stuck in the past. That lava is a spring straight from Kalod’s own forges, and even when I was young blasphemers came to work magic here. This isn’t the first, or likely the last time the Grey Company’s services will be required.”

    They continued downwards in silence , visibility fading even as the heat built, and the stench worsened. The wights of the Grey Company ignored the worsening conditions, taking only basic precautions against falling embers.

    Hagen eventually called a halt. “If I remember, the last ritual we interrupted was held just below here,” he explained. “We’ll reconnoiter and then attack.”

    Once the scouts departed, Godric joined Hagen in staring down into the gloom. “This is the third ritual. Again at a site dedicated to one of the old gods,” he muttered, pitching his voice so the others couldn’t hear.

    “You think I didn’t realize?” Hagen growled back with an unpleasant smile. “This won’t be like the fairy ring; whoever our mystery conjurer is, they will have to climb past us to get out.”

    +Will we now?+ an otherworldly voice echoed within both of their minds. Shadows loomed out of the smoke, surrounding the Grey Company fighters as they drew their blades. +I think your time is over, Prince Hagen.+

    “How many times have we heard that?” Hagen muttered as nightmarish figures of mismatched flesh and bone melted through the smoke.

    “Usually we have them surrounded, though,” Godric pointed out.

    “Shut up and fight.”

  13. Way Down We Go
    By Taja DaLeen

    Just jump in.

    Sure, it’s uncomfortable at first. Cold as ice, and the salt might sting any of your tiny cuts and bruises. But it’s what you’ve always been dreaming of, no?

    So, why don’t you just do it?

    Yes, yes, at first it will feel strange. And plain wrong. Your whole being will change, turn into something completely different.

    But it’s not like you actually like what you are right now, no?

    Or are you afraid of the pressure? Don’t worry, that’s what the potion you’re holding is for as well. It won’t be able to harm you, and once you’re in deep enough, you won’t even notice anymore.

    You won’t care anymore. Nothing will matter at all.

    And once your mind really and truly accepts it, the descent will be beautiful. Absolutely stunning, like nothing you ever experienced before.

    There’s light in that bottomless pit of darkness, too. You’ll just have to be able to see it.

    And you will be able to.

    You will be able to see; everything. The light, the darkness, and everything that lives in there; deep down in the gloom.

    I’m sure you’ll like it; love it, even.

    You always wanted to be like that little princess from the stories, after all. Just floating without a care, drifting wherever the flow leads you to.

    You always wanted to feel free.

    And once you’re down there, you will be able to, no one will judge you, no one will care. Not about what you do, not about what you think.

    Deep down at the bottom of the ocean’s darkness, nothing ever matters.

    1. I loved the way you made it look like whispering of inner voice or that of a little devil that is sitting on tour shoulder. It is different underworld than what I imagined and for it enjoyed it even more. You manage to keep it mysterious in a way that I am not sure if mc will become new Ariel or is commiting suicide.

      Great Job

    2. VENJI THE VOID Avatar
      VENJI THE VOID

      This was a great read and you know I love a abstract and mysterious description of a underworld, love using metaphors in psychology like a ocean or a tree and making it a more literal thing for a psychec world ,your description of it all and how good it is was great and felt like a devil trying to convince them of something of entering a death dream world.

      This was a great read and I loved it, Great job

    3. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      Wow, great story! I like how it feels like the narrator is having a dialogue with the reader. This makes for an interesting read as the narrator is constantly replying to my thoughts, but how could you have known I would think that. Overall, great insight into your readers though process and format of the story.

    4. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was a very interesting read… and I took at least two very, very different takes from it. I have a tendency to see this story as the taking of a breath before a dive into a transmigration story (with the whole leaving your past – whatever it is that weights it down – behind and becoming something really other; and some very abyssal horror undertones as well), but I couldn’t help but also see it as a kind of reverse Little Mermaid tale. Not easy to keep the tone as a reader while these two interpretations were fighting to get the forefront of the way I read it.

      [Not that these two interpretations aren’t compatible… oh, they are. But to get to THIS tone, just in a third reading.]

      Anyway, I just love the descriptions and how meditative and intimist it is. Specially considering that it seems to deal with intimist themes, while on the verge to reject the “I” that it is at the moment of narration. I find this contrast fascinating, and the language used is disturbingly gripping.

      Amazing tale.

    5. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      I like how dubious this is, and the lack of concrete details makes for some interesting readings.
      A more literal reading is that this is a trap set by a deceiver pretending to be well-meaning. Or maybe it’s someone who took the plunge forever ago and wants some company.
      I’m tempted to read this as a metaphor for diving into escapism so you don’t have to focus or even be conscious of your real life. I also feel something about substance abuse and trying to escape guilt or responsibility, but I’m struggling to connect the dots. In any case, these are personal interpretations.

      Great work.

  14. Dear Diary
    By Spawn of Faust

    3th December 1654
    The waves rocked the ship as we travelled across the sea into the land of the unspoken evil. Into the place where everything could and most likely would kill you.

    Heat was getting unbearable, and ship kept rocking – inducing sea sickness in most of the crew. Even I could no longer endure unending motion and had to hurl across the railing.

    Rations kept dwindling as our voyage came along. The scurvies hit the weaker members first. But all should pass soon because end of our voyage is getting near.

    15th December 1654
    Our rations are gone, and the landmass still evades our eyes. Capitan ensured us that we will reach the land soon. I fear for my health – now that we have run out of the food how do they intend to keep us alive?

    16th December 1654
    Today we had fresh meat for a lunch. It is as I feared – The Capitan started to sacrifice his crew. How long will it take and when it will be my turn? I refused to eat but I cannot endure it much longer – my hunger is eating me.

    I must eat.

    I must run.

    17th December 1654
    It is midnight. I heard them say that the feast was plentiful, and they want more. If you find this, then believe that I kept myself pure of the madness that strikes this ship.

    19th December 1654
    I survived. I reached the coast of the island. I had been starving and dehydrated and sun burnt my skin long time ago.

    There was no mistake. I managed to reach the Hell that was our goal. If the presence of this land managed to induce the madness what would happen to me now, that I am here?

    —-

    “Are you alright there?” voice interrupted my thoughts. I closed the diary and looked up. Sunburnt man with friendly face was looking at me.

    “I do not believe so. I was beached on the shore.” I answered uncertainly.

    “Well in that case, allow me great you here.”

    “Welcome to Australia.”

    1. I know I made a mistake in writing 3rd – that’s what i get for changing it later and not checking it

    2. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      This is excellently done. It reminds me of the early portions of Frankenstein where you read Victors letters as he descends into despair. And simultaneously it brings forth images of the Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

      With the specific ness of the dates, were you referencing an actual voyage to Australia? My historical knowledge of the country is not very deep.

      But also you will not get out of my head the idea that you wrote “Into the Down Underworld”.

      1. I had not been referencing actual voyage to australia, I just snippets of my knowledge about things that could happen on the way to the criminal colony and the way Australia is looke at as a dumpster of all things dangerous.

        But yeah I aimed to write about the world Down Under

    3. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      Great job! This story was super fun to read and presented some interesting ideas. I like the tension between resorting to cannibalism and starving to death; it would be a very hard choice. Also I like the twist at the end where we find out it was Australia all along. I don’t know my Australian history at all, but I wonder if this story is based of actual events?

    4. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      I love how we both had the same idea to interpret “Underworld” as Australia!

      It’s also interesting how even with the same idea, people can interpret it different. The diary format really immerses the reader in the horror and desperation of the narrator. And the final line is the cream of the crop for the piece – it’s humourous but in a very dark way (considering the experiences of the writer).

      Only peeve is that the piece is set in the 1600’s, yet the term “Australia” wasn’t really used until the early 1800’s. Before then, it was either New Holland or Terra Australis (Don’t judge me, I like to read about history!).

      Aside from that, a great story!

    5. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I love these journey log register stories, and nautical tales in particular have something that heightens the tension and drama just so well. I really like how these ideas are worked here, and how the drop in that kind of register also coincides with a drop of the tension and tone – what was until then a kind of apocalyptic log (even if the apocalypse of just this particular person) turns to comedy suddenly – and that suddenness here works as perfect comedic timing.

      Really great tale.

      Small nitpick – I believe you intended to write “allow me to greet you here” instead of “great” in the second to last line.

      Also… I got a bit of Monty Pythonesque vibe in the breaking of the time narrative of the end. I can’t help but imagine this person who had spent the last weeks in a terrible voyage in a seventeenth century ship arriving at nowadays Australia – a bit of a non sequitur, but very funny.

  15. Is this it?

    By Joe

    Riley walked through the front door to his roommates playing videogames.

    “Welp!” He slammed the door. “I’m about to lose my job!”

    The two roommates on the couch gasped and turned from their game, which then sang a jingle indicating their characters have died.

    “Another one!” said Polly. “That’s the fourth job!”

    “What for this time?!” said Jim outraged.

    “Chapter 11 bankruptcy!” said Riley.

    “What’s that?” said Polly.

    “Meaning the company is too broke to pay off its debts so they filed to reorganize. Meaning close some locations, sell the rest of their stock, give us a severance package, and fuck off with what’s left,” Riley said while sitting in an adjacent couch.

    “Oh,” said Jim and Polly.

    “Yep! I just don’t get it! I managed to somehow get another job that went out of business. First the amusement park because they failed to maintain the rides. Next the restaurant had ants, cockroaches, and flies.”

    “What kind?”

    Riley looked at Jim condescendingly. “All of them! Literally all of them eat rotten food. But anways,” he got back on track. “The third one was bull because they didn’t care if an old lady laid dying on the floor.”

    “Did that happen?” Polly said, shocked.

    “YES!” Riley threw up their hands. “They fired me because, in their words, ‘I defected from the line’. I helped out a coworker by calling for help. She had to come out of retirement because of inflation, and she died due to being overworked! Can you BELIEVE THAT?! This is BULLSHIT!!! I gotta go job hunting HOPING I don’t lose it because of the incompetent management, and constantly worry about dying of being OVERWORKED or BROKE?!”

    A moment passed before Polly spoke softly. “Is this what life has been all along? Dying overworked or dying broke?”

    “Shit,” said Jim. “People say we can make heaven a place on earth. Then what are we now? Is this hell?”

    “God, I hope so,” said Riley. “Then that means what comes after won’t be worse.”

    The trio let the thought settle, and breathed.

    “Anyways…wanna play a round?” asked Jim.

    “Sure.”

    1. Alexlalpaca Avatar
      Alexlalpaca

      I can’t help it, comparing the suffering inflicted by (hopefully) late stage capitalism with hell is something I just can’t dislike, specially when it comes in the form of such a creative interpretation of the prompt. I also like the way Riley is written, I find them very expressive, in a… How to describe it? Sort of a very punk way? You know, that playful type of righteous anger against authority? Very nice, I really liked this one.

      1. Yes. I am crapping on capitalism. And Riley’s personality is based off of the angry comedy of Bill Burr. Every angry rant that goes off in my head is his voice, because he makes it sound so fun as well as passionate without even trying.

        Thanks for the like and the read.

        1. Alexlalpaca Avatar
          Alexlalpaca

          Nice! Oh, and just in case there was a misunderstanding the “hopefully” referred to “late stage”, not me doubting you are criticizing it lol.

    2. Lol well you succeeded in making me both laugh and feel depressed simultaneously which is not an easy feat. You definitely get the point of a very flawed system across though in a very entertaining way despite the frustration involved for Riley.

      And I wouldn’t say dying overworked or dying broke are the only options… You could be born rich!

      Lol great take on the prompt.

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      The ol’ dark satanic mill keeps on turning, being fed with people and funneling out money for the few who profit with the meat grinder. A tale as old as our current economic system, yet a tale that we seem more keen to repeat through actions than through our darkest tellings.

      And I love when we just take that really terrible horror we are constantly feed up as victims and villains, face it head on and present it back as the horror story it is. Which is what I find here.

      The dialogue is great. As Alexalpaca said, very expressive. Very emotional while not sparing any word and also being very concise and precise in calling the devil by its name (though, the name is not said int he piece, right).

      I’m not so keen on the ending, though. I can’t really point out what bothers me in it, and I can’t figure out how to make it more impactful – but maybe that’s more my will to justice (even if just narrative justice) screaming. It is tough living in a horror story, and not seeing its end nowhere near.

  16. The One underground (Frontier Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    Locke never missed his walking cane more than he did now and he was just checking up on someone.

    The doors in front of him were still closed and part of him wished that they would stay that way. He adjusted the sleeves of his light-grey suit and took a deep breath. The sterile air of the inside of Titanlock stung in his lungs, smelling of disinfectant. He supposed that it was an unusual smell for a prison. Then again, it did fit the aura of this place in a way. Sterilizing the Federacy from powered criminals. And the worst one was held here, in the depth.

    As Locke raised a hand to open the door, he froze. He should go inside… He really should. He hadn’t seen her in a long time. Not since he’d put her there.

    Finally, he managed to move, pulling up a screen and looking into the cell beyond the door through a camera. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, as he saw her. She was sitting on her bunk, still dressed in her light grey prison overall, her bronze-coloured collar chaining her to the wall.

    He watched her for a moment, observed how she tapped her foot and hummed to herself. It was a familiar song, if slightly off-key. He remembered how she’d hummed that song often around campfires. She hadn’t been very good then, but very entertaining.

    The longer Locke watched her, the more familiar patterns he noticed. The way she sat and held her arm, the way she cocked her head to one side and how she brushed her hair out of her face. It brought back memories… Memories he didn’t want to see.

    He should go in… Confront her in person. Ask her “why” for the umpteenth time.

    He put away the screen and turned around. Some things should stay in the underground. As he walked back to the lift that would take him up to the surface, he did what he always did. He closed the doors in his mind.

    Summer was still in her prison. All was fine.

    1. Alexlalpaca Avatar
      Alexlalpaca

      Interesting, is this meant to be a reinterpretation of the myth of Persephone? Hence the name “Summer”? If so that’s clever, maybe a bit cryptic, thought that might just be me imagining stuff, apophenising if you will. If not, still a good read, I think you conveyed the feeling of dread rather well.

  17. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
    Iosef Paramonov

    The Devil Likes Vegemite
    by Iosef Paramonov

    Ronnie racked his brains, trying to remember. He had been strapped in the chair. The executioner had pulled the lever. Millions of volts had writhed under his skin like snakes. And then…

    He had woken up on scalding sand under the baking sun. Desert rolled out in all directions before him. In the distance, a large mound of red sandstone grew eerily out from the horizon.

    And from the mound’s direction, a figure was walking towards him.

    He wore a tan shirt with khaki shorts. His suntanned feet sported a pair of flip-flops. From his wide-brimmed hat dangled several corks in front of his grinning face.

    The figure stopped before Ronnie. “G’day mate,” he said, “Welcome to Hell!”

    Ronnie scrunched up his face in confusion. “Hell? I’m in Hell?”

    “Yep. And I’m the Devil.”

    “But you’re Australian. This is Australia!”

    “Fair dinkum, mate,” said the Devil, “Although I prefer the term ‘The Down Under-world.’”

    “But Hell is supposed to be unbearably hot!”

    “That’s right.”

    “Full of nasty creatures!”

    “Right on the mark.”

    “And its denizens suffer unspeakable horrors!”

    “You shoulda seen what we did to the Aboriginals!”

    “It doesn’t make sense!” cried Ronnie, “Why would sinners be sent to Australia?”

    “Well, it worked fine for the English,” pointed out the Devil, “Now, let’s see what you’re in for…”

    He took out a tattered notebook from his shirt pocket and opened it. He raised his eyebrows.

    “Crikey!” he exclaimed, “Murder, kidnapping, assault… quite the aggro bastard, aren’t ya?”

    “Hold on,” said Ronnie, ignoring the Devil, “There’re no guards here. No cells. No executioners. I’m free!”

    He stopped at the sound of a rumbling engine behind him. He turned around.

    A battered pickup truck was thundering towards him. Adorning its armour-plated bumper were three human skulls. Hanging from its sides were…

    A gang of snarling kangaroos in leather jackets. They waved iron chains and gnashed their teeth at Ronnie as they came closer.

    The Devil grinned.

    “Listen mate,” he said, “You’re right. You’re a free man. You can do whatever you like. That is… if you can survive…”

    1. Lol I have… so many questions…

      That said, you had me at the title. And the humor of the piece kept me the rest of the way. I was cracking up the entire time, especially when Ronnie was asking about the heat and horrible creatures. That does absolutely add up. I love how casual and fun the whole thing seems and then the end hits you and it’s like… yup, you’re in Hell alright, buddy.

      It also makes me curious though. Does everyone go to Hell-Australia? Even Australians? Is there a Hell-New York? *insert New York/New Jersey joke here* If you can die in Hell wouldn’t it inherently not be as bad as you expect? Or are those skulls fully cognizant of what’s going on around them and in constant pain with no escape?

      Either way Ronnie’s about to find out lol. And needless to say, I really enjoyed this piece. Great take on the prompt!

      1. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
        Iosef Paramonov

        Those are some interesting questions. Personally, I think Aussies go to Hell-England, where they are tortured with crap food, crap weather, and those bloody whinging pommies all the bloody time!

        Hell-New York sounds like a great idea! It’s where upstate New Yorkers go!

        I don’t think we’ll ever truly know what happens if you die in Hell, although since you’re dead anyway, I imagine that you don’t die, you’re just suffer in pain for eternity.

        Anyway, I’m glad you enjoyed the story, thank you!

    2. This is brilliant!

      I love how Ronnie’s qualifications for hell are technically true, and that hell is unapologetically Australian.

      And the Kangaroos in leather jackets barreling towards him in a semi in Mad Max fashion is such cherry on top. I love it!

      This made me smile. Now have a like.

    3. You had me at the title, but the resulting worldbuilding had me cackling. This is peak comedy as far as I’m concerned.

      I agree.

      Australia is perfect for the Down-Underworld. It’s hot, there’s SO many things that can hurt/kill you [the flora, the fauna, the LANDSCAPE…] and the people in charge seem determined to make living there intolerable.

      Very well done. Extra kudos for you.

  18. Roman Rivero Avatar
    Roman Rivero

    Every Mistake
    By Roman Rivero

    Every single regret and mistake a God has made all resides down there. The flawed feelings of shame and guilt in their design is why this Underworld exists. A vast empty world that resides at the lowest pit is a dumping ground for every God to toss into.

    The Gods of the Seas, out of jealousy, once sought to create life to rival the lands. Upon realizing the error of their ways, they cast them aside and damned all their creations into the Underworld. There is no documented record on what exactly their realization was. They won’t share why, but we know they’re still jealous.

    One particular God of Knowledge was tricked into submitting everything that could ever be known into all libraries. Upon seeing the horrors of what can’t be unraveled by the mortal mind and the horrors that can be understood to the creative mind, They took them all back by force and sent everything down into the Underworld.

    The God of Vermin once thought Itself as above guilt and regret. It thought It was smart to avoid confrontation and proceeded to act with no shame, Acted in such a way that even the God of Forgiveness could not see in its heart to forgive, and in its shame of being unable to forgive, tossed the Vermin God into the Underworld. As its only act of forgiveness, they allowed the fallen God’s creations to continue to roam the world. The God of Forgiveness would later on toss themselves down into the Underworld, believing to not be worthy of the title. Without the guidance of forgiveness launched our never ending wars of conflict.

    This is only a small handful on what mistake a God can make. So by all means, please explain to me why you would want to go down?

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      And now I’m here thinking that the narrator is talking with someone who is about to start explaining to him the benefits of cosmological recycling! Maybe a God of Renewal and Sustainability?

      That was a very strange one, but I like the way it is at once a cosmological proposition of how this world functions, and the ending implying a journey to a very specific kind of underworld. Also, who might be this gatekeeper? No wonder such a place would be guarded – after all, it guards the shame of gods. Still, I wonder who would be so reliable as to act as it guardian.

      In particular, I really liked the tale of the God of Vermin and the God of Forgiveness. Great story, and anthology of gods’ struggles with their mistakes.

    2. This feels like an old story being passed down by word of mouth. As if it’s too important to write down, like a secret only to be shared with the few.

      It reads like a old myth or legend, something I quite enjoy.

      Only thing I could possibly criticize is…I want just *slightly* a bit more context, as I think you could have made it a smidge longer. It’s a very small issue though, not something that even smudges this story

  19. Interrogation.

    by Galer.

    “So you do not remember the murderer’s face went your soul was released for your body? ” Tasun Grendal signed in annoyance while, he was talking to the victim of the serial killer or more like the soul in a Buddhist afterlife, fortunately, he didn’t need to go to India for this, since there was a Buddhist afterlife in Panama also. ” I thought souls could a least move a bit before the system sent you to your proper afterlife”

    It would have been a hassle to find him and he wasn’t a good aether detector last time he checked.

    To compound it even further this afterlife had a cycle of reincarnation which put a time constraint to find the soul.

    Luckily his Harpy friend Abigail did have experience with this and tracked the victim down with her better aether senses for him.

    Although she needed to negotiate with the local Daeva, to not cause a conflict with the authorities.

    It was an odd experience, your body phasing through all that aetherial matter.

    Besides that, during all the questioning the victim didn’t seem to recall what the killer looked like which made his job more difficult.

    “Sorry sir but went I saw him it was like seeing multiple faces at once I couldn’t distinguish anything,” The victim said

    “Wow, that sounds like a perception filter spell. but one strong enough to even affect the mind of a soul….that’s quite strong” Abigail said while Putin her clawed hand on her chin “so that means he is a magic user”

    “Isnt that Fantastic!…oh by the wyrm,” Grendal said his scales appearing from a moment of frustration the drakon didn’t like, that news, at all ” anything else of note?”

    “Well the only thing I saw was a tattoo of a yellow wind in one of his arms”

    Tasun pupíls shrunk and a wicked smile appeared on his face, he found one of those kidnapping bastards.

    “Oh, shit!” Abigail quickly noticed that because she knew Grendal wasnt going to sleep until he captured that mage.

    Exhaustion. be. dammed.

    1. Lee Strangely Avatar
      Lee Strangely

      Solving crimes with the spirit of the victim isn’t a new concept, but the they you’ve gone about it is very unique. It’s neat how the all version of the afterlife seem to exist depending on whose soul is being dealt with. The reincarnation cycle also makes for a creative ticking clock for the detectives. My only issue would be with the final three lines/paragraphs, which to me seem to be a tad for lack of better terms, clunky in how they’re written. Overall, great job!

      1. Ok I didnt have more words to write a proper ending to be frank, if I have my way I would extend this more.

    2. Certainly a story to draw a man in! The dialogue is well written and believable, which helps draw the reader in a bit more.

      All with a fun little cliff hanger! I’d love to see this more fleshed out.

  20. Belly of the Beast
    By MasaCur

    Sonja and Melissa were led into the back of the club, bouncers flanking them. Sonja didn’t have the ability to see through glamors, but it wouldn’t surprise her to find that Rikke had hired something imposing as club security. Orcs, Oni, Trolls, something of that manner.

    An androgynous blonde in an expensive suit stopped them at the door at the end of the hall. “Hold on, ladies. Handbags, please.”

    Melissa handed over her clutch, and the blonde checked through it, picking out random objects, before putting them back. They placed the handbag on a side table, before running a metal detector over the two ladies.

    Satisfied, the blonde handed the clutch back to Melissa and gestured for Sonja and Melissa to enter the room behind them.

    Sonja found herself in a large, opulent office. A woman in a stylish pantsuit had her feet kicked up on the desk.

    Sonja nodded. “Rikke Farlund I assume?”

    The woman dropped her feet and stood up. “Guilty. Good to finally meet you, Sonja. You don’t mind if I call you Sonja? I feel like, even though we’re just meeting, that we should have been friends for a while.”

    Rikke’s charm was evident, but Sonja knew not to trust her. She was dangerous. Despite her overtures of friendship, Sonja didn’t feel that there was any affection from the words.

    The door was closed behind them, and Sonja glanced back to see the androgynous blonde had followed them in.

    “I see you’ve met my right hand, Thirteen,” Rikke said, indicating the blonde.

    “Thirteen?” Melissa asked. “Unusual name.”

    Rikke flashed a smile. “You must be Melissa Jackson. Delighted to meet you. Where, praytell, is the third musketeer?”

    Melissa shrugged. “Erykah? She has a date. Go figure.”

    Good save, Sonja thought. Last thing she needed was for Rikke to know that Erykah was across the street hacking into the club’s security system.

    “So, what can I do for you?” Rikke asked.

    “Well, as I think you’re aware, we’ve had some incursions from another world,” Sonja said. “I was hoping that you would help us track them down.”

    1. Ah HA! I was wondering/hoping someone would do this sort of “underworld”.

      Very curious to see where this goes, if we see more of this plot line.

      I love 13. Makes me think of House M.D. Just the name obviously.

  21. Master of Daavas Avatar
    Master of Daavas

    Judgment of the Abyss.

    By Master of Daavas

    Mortal… this court has found you wanting. You have lived your life in vain pursuit of personal gratification. You have spurned the gods at every turn, even those who would have you despite your shortcomings… and there is none who can testify for you to be sparred our judgment.

    Had you chosen a Patron, a god who would have you. All you would worry about is maintaining their favor so that you might spend eternity in their domains with the faithful of bygone days… but you couldn’t be bothered to hedge your bets. Could you?

    Now here, in the Abyssal Void. You have been judged for your lifetime of transgressions. Your Judicator has failed to defend you… and I am afraid the sentence will be most steep. You will spend the rest of eternity in the darkest pits of the Void. The entire notion of your life will become a myth and legend to you as it has for every soul that has ever been cast into the Darkness.

    However… there is a loophole. It is not a mercy that I extend. The Midnight Phoenix has need for warriors for the Last War. Warriors with nothing left to lose… and for one such as you. I dare say you had little to lose in life, to begin with. If you choose this offer, then you will be subjected to terrors that CAN kill you… for good. No soul, no chance at proper penance.

    But should you survive for one-thousand years of combat against the Great Enemy. The Midnight Phoenix WILL give you a second chance at life, to make recompense for the suffering and misery you carelessly sowed in life.

    I am duty-bound to tell you this. And that is more than you deserve. All you need do is swear the oath… this offer will only be given once. Refuse, and it’s the Pits for certain. And if you squander your second chance in life, it will be the Pitts.

    So what shall it be Widowmaker? Swallow your pride? Or know only darkness forevermore?

    1. Roman Rivero Avatar
      Roman Rivero

      The stories of eternal damnation and a slim chance of survival can go to fun places. I’m curious to know more about what this 1000 year war is and what the Great Enemy is and the Midnight Phoenix, but I feel like its missing a bit of a why are they fighting? Like is this Great Enemy an unambiguous evil or something that just an exclusive enemy to the Midnight Phoenix?

      Nevertheless, I was entertained the more I started to imagine more of this scenario and what these other points could be. There are interesting points that are explained in this situation and also somethings that are just left to the imagination.

      1. Master of Daavas Avatar
        Master of Daavas

        There’s only so much when you’re trying to be ambiguous… and when there’s a 350-word limit.

    2. Mango Gravy Avatar
      Mango Gravy

      I think it’s a win-win. If you die (again) you get obliterated. No sense, no existence. Nothing. If you survive, you get a second go, a chance to screw it all up again. Either case is better than an eternity in darkness.
      The theological implications of this are interesting. This take on reincarnation is similar to Buddhism, where you essentially go again and again until you live the ideal life and get liberated from the cycle. Only in this case, you’re more likely to be liberated than not, and only one form of this liberation is the good ending.

      That said, is this afterlife battle eternal? And if only the worst of the worst fight against the Great Enemy, don’t we need people to be that bad or else the battle is lost? Is this battlefield just punishment for everyone there, including the Great Enemy who can’t actually win but is forced to fight damned souls in perpetuity, not for his/her own sake but merely to give evildoers a chance at a second chance.

      This is intriguing to me. You’ve effectively hooked me with a string of questions.

      Purely functional critiques. A the end of the first paragraph, I’m fairly certain you mean ‘spared’, not ‘sparred’. And at the end of the second last paragraph, you write ‘Pitts’ instead of ‘Pits’.

      Anyway, this is good stuff. I like.

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Reading the replies, I guess most of us that got hooked are brimming with potential questions. This story just asks to be expanded upon – and here I’m not asking you to answer any of the questions, just to keep making a nice habitable room for them, so that interesting questions and possible scenarios can grow.

      I can’t help but think of the hypothetical scenario of the judged dead accepting the deal of the Midnight Phoenix, managing to survive the thousand years and returning to a new life – would they know it is their second chance, upon re-birthing?

      Also, I can’t help but imagine if that chance is given to the virtuous and righteous (at least, in the gods eyes) as well. That could make a very bizarre and interesting story of trench camaraderie and conflict among the dead warriors. But I digress.

      I really liked the way you used second person and the voice of the judge. There is formality, but also a lot of judgemental weight not only directed at the one being judged, but the choice that is put in front of them. This gives a lot to think about how the judges of the dead think on the Midnight Phoenix, so there is a lot of worldbuilding being conveyed through sheer implied opinion of the narrator. Nice touch.

      Small critique – I don’t think it is correct to interrupt the first sentence in the third to last paragraph the way you did. The conditional should be followed by a comma, not a full stop.

    4. What a nice monologue. The idea that drives this story is really sweet, having someone cast to nothing because they cast away the gods, only to be given a second chance in the face of a true death. really fuckin dope. something about it does read choppy though and I’m upset I can’t pointa finger at it but over all great story!

  22. Down and Away (A Devil’s Tale)
    C. M. Weller

    There had once been gemstones on her dress. They were in a bag, now. Three pounds of carefully-carved gemstones that had made her another glittering jewel in the Sparknight Gala.

    Until Spitebane “that ass” Whitekeep had compared her to a mattress, a poorhouse pudding, and a pig. In that order.

    She had added the pearls and diamonds from her hair. It should be enough. She hoped it was enough. Enough to find a new place, a new name, a new life. Or a shorter one. Anything was better than spending the rest of her days with that ass.

    She met Veet as she was exchanging her gemstones for gold. One of the smallfolk who made their homes inside hills and generally considered adventuring to be a sign of insanity. Veet was one of the mad ones, apparently.

    “That’s a lot of shinies,” Veet had announced instead of an introduction. “Win a bet?”

    “Lost my appetite for marriage,” Cordelia accepted her gold. “Do you know the way to an armorer? I need a sword.”

    “For three gold, you could hire me. I’ll see you safe to anywhere you need,” Veet had a friendly smile and a way of leaping or tumbling from roost to roost. “What’s your goal, here?”

    “To get the hell away from Whitekeep.” Cordelia paid more for the scimitar and belt than she should have, and added a map of the Undercity to her inventory. “If I can find a way out of the city, UNDER the city, I have less chances of attracting his notice.”

    Veet whistled backwards, a sure sign of intense trouble ahead. “The Undercity’s a dangerous place, and YOU are soft and sheltered. No offense. There’s things from the Everdark down there. May I help you?”

    It was the first polite interaction she had had all night. Cordelia handed her new ally five gold. “Please do,” she said, “I will give anything to be away from Whitekeep and to never have to think of it again.”

    “As you will,” said Veet. “Remember. Always be careful.”

    Such a pity she didn’t follow her own advice.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      The worldbuilding is very good in this one. The goal is simple, yet the reader wants more. I hope to see and read more of this. Also, what jerk called her a pig?!

      1. You know his name. Spitebane Fortitude Bullwark Whitekeep. He gets better though.

    2. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      I found the interaction between Cordelia and Veet entertaining and engaging. However, I guess I was left with a few questions. I recognize Spitebane as Kosh’s brother, but was Cordelia betrothed to Sptiebane before falling for Kosh later? I thought she didn’t know Kosh before she met him after she made a new life for herself under a new name as a commoner? Also what is “her own advice” here too? Because the line before that is Veet saying “Always be careful.” rather than Cordelia, so I’m confused as to which advice of her own she is referring?

      Anyway, I suspect my misunderstandings are probably due to word limitation. All in all, a good scene.

      1. Yeah this happens before Kosh and Cordelia meet, AND before the big reveal of Kosh as “the oldest son of Whitekeep” as stated in Cordelia’s betrothal contract.

        The “own advice” is about Veet. She made one mistake in the Undercity and… not a lot of room for mistakes down there.

        I don’t think the longer version is much clearer about all of that either. Mea culpa for trying to squeeze too much in I guess.

    3. Wait. Which she didn’t follow their advice? Veet? What happened to Veet!?

      Why was Spitebane so rude to Cordelia? Were they supposed to marry because she was supposed to marry Kosh, but now he’s… missing? Is this her faking her death?

      I do love that she took the gems from her dress as well as her earrings and hair dressing. She honestly probably could have gotten more money than she could easily carry for all that… Depending on the currency of course. I feel like coins have been the primary form, but I could be wrong.

      1. Veet wasn’t as careful as she should have been and paid with her life.

        This story is set before Cordelia met Kosh, when she still assumed that Spitebane was her fiancee. She learns differently AFTER she’s told the Lutemen that “Marchess Cordelia Bellarin is dead. That’s all Whitekeep needs to know.”

        It’s a little bit soap opera, but I’m doing it for the angst juice.

        When she settles down to read Kosh’s letter, THAT’S when the You Asshole Moment happens. I can do a lot more foreshadowing in the book than in these things.

        She maybe overpaid for a few things before Veet gave her a few quick lessons about that. And yeah, coins would be the currency for most of it.

  23. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Did it hurt when you scraped your knee?
    By Tamela Redfin

    Cora didn’t know what to do. Being pitied for mental illness might be worse than being hated for her evil. No Cora, they want to help you. Like your mentor Ilse did. Oh wait, she hated you.

    “Hi Cora.”

    She gasped seeing Henry and Birdie walk over. Birdie, her old friend, and… what was she to make of the other?

    Unsurprisingly, Birdie hugged her. “Cora, you’re okay.”

    “Yeah, you’re crushing me though. Also, aren’t you mad at me?” She sighed, “Look I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

    Birdie smiled, “All is forgiven. Now I’ll leave you to chat.”

    Cora looked at Henry. “Hey, what brings you here?”

    He looked away, “I came to see you, Cora. It was always you.”

    “It is the twilight hours, Henry. You can let me go. If I keep this up Augen says he might reset the timeline. He did it before; he can do it again.”

    Henry held her hand, “He can do what? Is that why you left me?”

    Cora pulled away, or tried to. “You know what? I don’t…”

    “No, you can’t keep pushing everyone away when things get hard. I wanted to walk through hell with you. You can’t keep running from everyone who cares. Birdie, Helen, you name it, and we didn’t leave you. Not until you pushed us away.”

    “I was scared. I couldn’t let you…” Cora hung her head. “Henry, promise you don’t leave me?”

    “I promise, Cora.” But then a loud cracking was heard. “What’s going on?!”

    “The timeline, it’s fracturing. HENRY! Don’t leave me. Please…”

    He hugged her watching the cracks form and then everything went black.

    “Hello Cora.” He turned to see the spirit of Augen. “Oh? Didn’t I warn you I’d break time if you returned to Henry? Such a pity. Two strong leaders trapped in the void. Shame shame.”
    “This can’t be how my story ends!” Cora gasps.

    “We won’t let it.” Henry replied.

    1. Sooo… What? Augen has the Time Stone?

      Actually, maybe it’s more of “Final Fantasy” type thing. The evil scientist who reveals the horrible sci-magic power he discovered researching some eldrtich being chained up in his basement.

      Kinda funny that this is what makes him reset time or whatever. Is it Cora specifically he’s doing this for, or was the timeline actually going better for him than previous ones up to this point?

      And how far back is he resetting it? A few days? Weeks? 5+ years?

      1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
        Tamela Redfin

        I’d say to answers the question, Augen is furious that Cora dare find someone better than him. Also, he thinks if he resets time, Cora won’t leave and this “Stupid autistic man” can’t win. (Henry (and Cora) is confirmed to be on the spectrum.)

        He plans to reset it to before Cora met Henry. When they met, he already knew there might be trouble as Cora took a shine to someone, she could be her around, unlike Augen. That means at least a few years back. Unless Henry and Cora can stop it.

        Thanks for the read! 🙂

    2. This timeline fracturing power is both OP and confounding. Augen is getting too many powers and needs some brakes put on IMHO.

      Maybe sort out your overall plot and pick elements that match from that instead of trying to make it all one sequential continuity.

      I know. You like your conspiracy boards. Sometimes, you need to re-thread that thing.

  24. White Smoke
    By Caliber

    What is it like to walk with the dead? A disturbing moment, surrounded by the corpses you once knew and loved? Or is it a peaceful moment? Knowing those you cared were still here, just unseen. I’ve yet to decide.

    But this is all we do. Walking along a blue stretch of road, a dark starry night above us. At first I was concerned, even scared. I understood oh so little. Our bodies were of mist, a vaguely human form of chilled white air, or smoke. Was this our souls? No longer needing a physical form and released in one final act? Or maybe a soul is just what we describe the indescribable. I don’t know.

    As we walked I could see the Glowing Ones. Think of them as the guides of the Underworld. Giving directions and answering questions. Some here call them angels. Others demons, seeing faces in the light. I thought I saw my mother once. Is she here with me? Walking among the dead? Or did she finish her walk and finally rests with my father?

    We walk away our sins, traveling days and nights to become pure as the day we were born. Some walk for minutes. Some walk for an eternity. Least that’s what they tell me. The worse the sin, the longer the trek. Given there’s no sun and no clocks, I’m unsure how long I’ve been here. A day? A year? Or a minute? What kind of man was I to walk this long?

    I continued to walk, looking up. A bright light shined before me as I held out my hand, wispy tears forming as I beheld the two figures in front of me. I know who they were. I lost them such a long time ago. Do they remember me?

    I could only fall into their arms as my journey completed, a single word breaking the quiet.

    “Daddy?”

    1. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      This is a fun concept that sounds quite a bit like purgatory but I think your word count is a little short.

      From what I can tell though, it gives me vibes of the chained spirits we see in the beginning of A Christmas Carol, after Marley explains the chains he wears. It’s nice to see it completed at the end.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I really liked the tone of the whole story. It borders the meditative and the fairtytale, so even though this seems like a purgatory-like afterlife, the reading feels very light. I’m not that sure if the ending landed all that well to me. There is a bit of mystery implied in what happens at the end, and I think that mystery could be maintained through the whole piece. Sure, we are not answered what happens at the end, but it is heavily implied that these souls are redeemed, and in a way, they keep on being themselves. It is a good story, but I do think the idea of following the wandering soul who does not know where the road will take they is the thing that hooked me in – rather than the destination per se.

      Still, that’s not even really a criticism of the piece, more of a comparison with my own taste. The story is very well told and great as it is.

  25. The Placida Mors (The Will)
    By Skeleton

    Two monsters sat on a lone sandbar in the middle of an inky-black ocean, licked by the light of a bright, gentle moon safeguarding its children against the void. The soft hum of the water against the millions of unfulfilled desires acted as a lullaby for the two figures sitting on the sand—the voices of souls like bird song and the cricket’s orchestra.

    “It’s strange,” one of them said to the other. “I always thought that the desolation of relinquished souls would be more… violent.”

    “It was supposed to be,” the other replied with melancholy wrapped around its tongue. “The will of the world–the concept your newest creations called God–wanted it to be more efficient, but you made it otherwise.”

    As the two stared out into the glossy path carved by the moon’s light—turned endlessly by the soft waves of inevitability—the two remained still. “Who told you that?”

    Memories began to blur into existence—recreating themselves from fragments of the past, and by extension, recreating the monster beside the creator. “You did,” the now twelve-foot, antler-skulled monster replied with longing. The red glow of his eyes alit something within his company.

    The creator looked at his own hands: as black and as terrible as the creature beside him. So delicate and small were his fingers that he could not help but laugh sadly. “Is that you… Eregrim?”

    “Yes, nameless one,” Eregrim answered with renewed but leashed enthusiasm. “Have you–?”

    “No.” The sharp interjection softened the creation’s expectations, but not as much as what was said next. “I don’t believe I am the nameless one anymore. I don’t think I can be called creator, either. The memories aren’t there, but the feelings are. I think… the creator abandoned me. I think… I am a mistake.”

    The mistake held his hand up to the light, watching the sparkles in his obsidian-like body. “I must go, Eregrim,” the mistake confirmed. “The creator is waiting for me below the waves.”

    “Will you destroy him?” the creation asked—his feelings conflicted.

    “Maybe,” the mistake replied with a sad laugh. “I do hate myself enough.”

    1. I really like this piece. The entire tone is etched with this melancholy and loneliness, which really fits the theme of the story. There is an overwhelming sense of ending and reflection, which I really appreciate, especially with how its communicated here.

      The idea of a self-loathing creator is also quite heart-breaking. It puts me in mind of a deity, who was once a wrathful one, but then came to see the error of their ways, trying to move past it, but finding themselves unable to. When the creator calls themself a mistake, I felt that in my gut.

      Great story!

  26. WriterOfThought Avatar
    WriterOfThought

    First Day of School
    WriterOfThought

    Agatha held tightly to her brother, Grimsley’s hand. His cold fingers felt reassuring to her in this big step of her life, a step all young denizens of the Lower Realms must take. Sometimes as they walked, she wondered how her hand felt to him, as he didn’t have flesh, just like their father.

    In her five years of experiencing life, she had learned that their father, a renowned reaper, Grimoire III, could handle just about anything she could throw at him, figuratively and literally. From tantrums to toys, and one instance of misplacing his femur, she had never see him experience pain.

    Their mother, Finis, on the other hand, seemed to experience pain at least as often as Agatha did. Minor burns in the kitchen and spells gone awry were not uncommon, and there was that one time that Agatha’s stuffed familiar scratched Finis. But their mother had flesh, like Agatha, and their mother could feel.

    Perhaps it was something Agatha would learn about at this exciting and terrifying new place called “School” that she was heading towards.

    As they trotted forward, other young creatures of the Lower Realms began to join the fray. Skeletons, demons, imps, elementals, and even other witches like Agatha all walked on their merry way to the imposing building slowly coming into view, some escorted by parents and others by siblings. A wriggling in Agatha’s backpack reassured her that she would not be alone once her brother went off to his own classroom.

    The gates loomed overhead, and in time Agatha would learn that the symbols at the top of the arch spelled out “UNDERWORLD ELEMENTARY”, but for now she tentatively released her brother’s bony hand, feeling the imprints of his joints as her own hand remembered how it felt without it, and she took her first steps inside, feeling a mixture of emotions as complex as her mother’s potions.

    And her familiar in her backpack wriggled once more, eager for mischief.

    1. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      I love this story. It’s nice to know that even children in the Lower Realms feel nervous when going to school. And the very idea of a school for Hellish kids is a great one to be expanded upon. Not to mention I’d love to know what Agatha’s familiar is and why they’re so mischievous….

      Great story, well done!

      1. WriterOfThought Avatar
        WriterOfThought

        One of these days I’ll redraw these characters. They started as doodles in the margins of my history notes ten years ago, and this is where they have grown.

    2. This is such a great introduction to this world! You pretty much had me in the first paragraph and kept me the entire time. You did such a good job of painting the picture of this Underworld that would be both terrifying and wholesome while keeping that kid on their first day of school nervousness/excitement vibe throughout the whole piece.

      I’d genuinely love to see a show like this lol. And you leave so many questions that make the reader want to know more, Agatha’s familiar among other things.

      Excellent take on the prompt!

  27. Into The Unknown
    By Marx

    Matt looked around the endless void, knowing that even though he couldn’t see her that she was here. As far as he could tell, she was always here. In fact, ‘here’ could very well BE her. “Um… hello?”

    “Hello Beloved.” Death’s voice purred from everywhere. “You usually visit my realm when you want something…”

    Matt chuckled. That was a fair accusation. “This time won’t be any different. I don’t think you’ll mind though…”

    “Is that right?” It was as if two giant eyes opened in the void, the white of Death’s irises in stark contrast to the darkness surrounding them.

    Matt smirked back. “You call me your Beloved, your Fated, and so on and so forth but the issue with that is I don’t actually know you. I was hoping to remedy that somewhat.”

    “You question our destiny?”

    “It’s not that. It’s just… you want this deep connection and I know nothing about you. I don’t know your favorite color. I don’t know your favorite food. I don’t know what you do for fun. I usually know these things when I’m with someone.”

    The giant eyes began to shrink as Death’s form took shape in front of Matt. Her eyebrow raised skeptically. “You talk about our connection as if it doesn’t yet exist. Do you not feel the intensity when our gazes lock onto each other? Did you not question if I change my appearance to be more physically appealing to you, implying that you found me appealing in the first place? Did you not once refer to me as… ‘really hot’ and ‘a total knockout’?”

    Matt’s eyes bulged as he felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Th… that’s all surface level… I’d just… like to know the more personal stuff… is all…”

    “If that is your wish. This is my favorite color.” Death motioned around them.

    “Your favorite color is nothing?”

    Death’s eyes narrowed. “Do you mock me?”

    “No! That’s a… perfectly valid color! Um… what about your favorite food?”

    “I am Death, my Beloved. I don’t require food.”

    Matt smiled. “People don’t always eat purely for sustenance.”

    1. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      This is super sweet. I love when people get to romance death.

      Or quite literally… Flirt with death.

      And it’s not often that authors make the things that death enjoys as immaterial as Death itself.

      Very nicely done. Great job!

    2. Iosef Paramonov Avatar
      Iosef Paramonov

      I wonder what Death’s favourite animal is…?

      But anyway, I do love a wholesome Death. Your story does a really good job mixing romance with humor. The image of Death saying “Total Knockout” is one that’s going to stick with me! Not to mention I love how the story implies that it is Death who came onto the mortal… even she has a heart!

      Well done!

    3. Asking the real questions here.

      Now! For the ultimate questions!

      What is the right way to position the toilet paper?

      Fanboy, Trekker, or Ringer?!

      IF JEREMY HAS 200 CANDY BARS AND EATS 125 OF THEM, WHAT DOES HE HAVE?!

      Death: “I don’t defecate. I don’t know what any of those are. And it doesn’t matter because Jeremy’s dead now.”

      Understood. Have a good day.

    4. Death: Welcome, my Beloved. But you only come here when you want something…
      Matt: That’s right, I do want something. [Johnny Bravo poses] I want to take you on a date!

      I’m not sure there’s much else to say about this though… I do like the idea of “My favorite color is Void”. Of course, she could have just meant “Black” XD

      I hope we get a prompt where you get to write Matt taking Death on a date.

      And maybe help her pick out a name.

      “Death IS my name. The condition of being no-longer-alive was named AFTER me.”

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