Writing Group: I Dropped My Soul

Hello, Phylacteries, Horcruxes and Soul Gems!

  Wait! We have to go back for something. Yes it’s important! No, it can’t wait till tomorrow! Well, um…it’s because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

I Dropped My Soul

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 prompt has a wacky chaotic energy that makes it very fun. The idea of dropping something seemingly impossible to drop leaves lots of room for creativity. 

Let’s begin with the more symbolic and potentially serious takes on the prompt. In most worlds souls cannot be physically dropped, though they may be spiritually lost. You could write about someone who symbolically “dropped” their soul by going down a dark path in life. Perhaps they were once good, and then became some sort of villain or dark lord, and as their loved one sees who they become, they feel as though they’ve dropped their soul. This could be more fantastical, or it could be realistic. For instance, someone in the real world becoming a corrupt businessman could be someone who dropped their soul. 

Perhaps it’s more like Dementors in Harry Potter. In your world, maybe when someone’s soul is taken away their body becomes an empty shell. Perhaps you tell the tale of someone trying to help a lost soul find their body. 

This prompt could also be taken much more literally, and this is where I think hilarity could ensue. Liches (or any adjacent type of character) are certainly a good candidate for this situation. Maybe a demon or reaper has collected a soul, and drops it on their way back to the afterlife. Or maybe you could write about a world in which souls are always a physical thing. What if someone could simply trip and drop their soul? Could a soul be something like keys, or a phone, that you could accidentally leave it home, or drop on the way to work? 

Where was it dropped? Dropping your soul on the sidewalk is a different story from dropping it in a burning building, or at your ex’s house, or down The Bottomless Pit of Metirchalah.  

What happens when it falls? Are souls something that could break? You could write about a soul breaking into pieces upon falling. Maybe there are soul repairers in your world to which your character must go. Maybe instead of breaking, souls in your world ooze, and your character is desperately trying to catch it before it oozes down the sewage grate. What happens when a soul is damaged? Would the person change once they put it back in their chest?

Who might find it? Whether a stray dog thinks it’s a chew toy, a homeless person holds it for ransom, a dashing prince nobly searches for its owner, or an arch nemesis uses it against the protagonist, who finds it would change the course of the story drastically. And if you hold someone’s soul, does it affect the person it belongs to? Can you control their actions? Their personality? 

My challenge for you this week is to make me genuinely laugh out loud with your story. I am not the easiest person to make genuinely laugh out loud, and this prompt I think could potentially be one of our funniest if you really lean into it. 

Well what do we have here? Hello little soul. I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me. You’ll make a lovely addition to my shelf. 

—Kaylie

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Comments

136 responses to “Writing Group: I Dropped My Soul”

  1. Gadrius Avatar
    Gadrius

    Rite of Passage

    By: Gadrius

    Halcyon exhaled slowly, focusing on the grazing buck. He steadied his heart and his hand, then released the bowstring.

    THUNK.

    A cheer rang from the bushes beside Halcyon as his brother, Solarus, leapt to his feet. Halcyon was relieved his elder brother had volunteered to join him. The First Hunt was an important rite of passage for a Spirit Elf.

    “Come, brother! Let us collect our kill before it sours!” Solarus lovingly clapped his brother on the back, “I wish you to do the honors.”

    Halcyon smiled, once again grateful for his brother’s encouragement. The two streaked down the hill towards the body of the slain deer. As the two moved, trails of soft, blue light danced behind them, the mark of a Spirit Elf’s power.

    The two reached the carcass of the deer, and Halcyon quickly pulled his waterskin from his side. He unstopped the bottle and quietly began to chant a few words. As he spoke, glowing blue particles began to collect in the air above the body of the deer. They hovered noiselessly towards one another before springing together like magnets.

    Finally the motes of light converged into a single glowing ball. Halcyon muttered the final few words of the incantation, and the sphere floated towards his waterskin before quickly disappearing into the leather pouch.

    Solarus’ face shown with a massive grin. “My brother! I am so proud!” He tussled Halcyon’s hair, then the two set to work cleaning and skinning the hide.

    Once back at camp with their prizes, Halcyon eagerly called out his approach. In response, an unseen voice, deep and booming, came from just beyond the gate. “I am sorry, son. I cannot allow you to pass. No shoes, no service.”

    Halcyon could not hide his confusion. “What do you mean?? I am properly clothed!”

    The voice boomed again, this time with more mirth, “Well, you have the leather and the tongue, but it seems you’re missing the SOUL!”

    As the voice bellowed a hardy laugh, Halcyon looked down at his side and groaned. Somewhere along the way, he’d dropped the soul!

  2. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
    MelancholicOtaku

    The Playful Spirits

    By: MelancholicOtaku

    “Elyn, Elyn, wake up!” “The old ones are gathering; you must…,” the voice whispered, and as always, the dream ends a bit too soon.

    It was always like this—the same message over and over again, warning me of some ill fate that I may suffer in the near future.

    “Elyn, you must…” the voice began again. I hated that sound, the dream; my hands were trembling as I took a glance at my sycthe. The sycthe was a special one, an heirloom that contained the fallen ones and familiar souls to help guide you on your journey.

    Getting up, I decided what I needed was a brisk walk—something to take my mind off the past events. Lucky for me, the stars were out tonight and the moon glowed beautifully. Grabbing the precious gift, I headed to the forest and began my stroll.

    Various creatures were all communicating in their own unique languages. I looked at my scythe and smiled; perhaps the spirits would enjoy the pleasing sounds of nature.

    “Meerus,” I said, placing my scythe in the ground. A crowd of small orbs of light came out. The orbs were quite playful tonight, zipping around jovially and full of glee.

    “Look,” I said, pointing forward to the two opening lanterns placed on each side.

    The souls began to quiet down, knowing that our walk was coming to an end. I smiled as the gathering hovered around my hands, and holding them in my left, I gently stroked them with my free hand.

    “Oops, sorry, little guy.” I said as the tiny orb fell to the ground. Without a second thought, the orb flew back up and joined the group once again. I sighed in relief. I knew the spirits couldn’t get hurt, but I was attached to them—they were my family after all.

    Finally out of the forest, I placed my sycthe into the ground. “Meerus .” I said once again the orbs being beckoned and absorbed.

    1. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This is such a cute take on the prompt! I really like how the protagonist is so attached to the spirits they collect, and how despite their job being collecting souls (Are they supposed to be death?) They still love the lively sounds of nature, of life.

      Good job!

      1. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
        MelancholicOtaku

        Thanks for the kind words.Elyn our Mc isn’t death but she is connected to the grim reaper

  3. Iskritt Avatar
    Iskritt

    Soul Factory
    By : Iskritt

    “Proof of soul?” Said the bored hotel clerk

    “Of course!” I responded, reaching into my bag for my soul, only to not find it.

    “I am sorry but I cannot let you check in without your soul.” The clerk said, interrupting my search.

    “Do I really look like someone who has lost his soul?” I asked, Ripping several items from my bag.

    The clerk looked me up and down and bluntly responded “Yes.”

    I looked at my hand to see that the clerk was correct. My hand was wrinkling up, showing age that I simply did not have.

    “Ah, dangit.” I said, rushing out of the hotel. Luckily there was a soul factory not to far away, so I was not in any danger of surpassing twenty-four hours without a soul, causing me to wither away and disappear into an emotionless husk of flesh.

    The soul factory was a massive building in the center of town, operated by a single robot. The government had decided recently that free souls were a “human right” so the soul factories had to take every cost cutting measure possible to stretch their government allowance as thin as they could. That included firing human workers in favor of robot ones, who did not need to be paid

    I approached the front desk and the robot, which was powered off.

    “I need a soul please.” I said, causing the robot to awaken and look at me.

    “Proof of no soul?” It asked. I presented my hand, which had already began to flake away. “Good enough.” It said. “Wrists please.”

    I extended my wrist and the robot cut it clean open, gushing blood into a small container. Once enough of my blood was collected, the robot disappeared into the back of the building and returned with a soul. My soul.

    “Thank you!” I said, moving to place it in my bag, but fumbling and dropping it, causing it to disappear in a puff of smoke on the ground.

    I looked at the robot, who let out a very human-like sigh.

    “Wrist please.” It said.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Ok, the comedic tone of the whole encounter (well, of both encounters) is great, but what really shines in all of that is the worldbuilding. Yup, souls exist. Being without one is detrimental (not only existentially, but also socially). Considering how much of a problem that is, there are systems in place to guarantee a soul for those in need. And the costs and logistics of it all are considered as well. That is quite a lot to add to such a short story, and it is all there – and it does not feel bloated with information or heavy. In fact, it feels very natural, even in more lore heavy paragraphs.

      (Still, I’m sure there is a whole soul industry lobby that don’t see a problem in making a profit by overpricing souls to those in need, and they are right now just trying to roll back the whole human right thing… and a lot of people there might just be thinking that the best practice in handling souls might be letting the free market decides those who are worth it and those who aren’t. We are just a few steps of creating a whole soulpunk genre here.)

      As I said, I really liked the worldbuilding more than anything, but the comedy is also well worth praising. The voice chosen to convey the story manages to be fitting both for the informative elements and for the delivery of the comedic beats. The flow is great and dynamic. You start strong with a very engaging and interesting first line, and ends with a great sequence of funny moments in the human-like sigh and the repetition. Layered comedy, the best kind of comedy, I’d say.

      Great story, Iskritt. That was a delightful reading. Thanks for sharing!

    2. Normally I read stories like this and have so many questions about the world and the lore…but not this time. You’ve managed to hit a level of Loony Toons where I can just sit back and be amused and not worry about the rest of it. Fun story.

  4. MasaCur Avatar
    MasaCur

    Calling You From My Soul
    By MasaCur

    “I have done it again!”

    Miguel looked up from his magazine to see his master flamboyantly enter the study. Ibrahim was a gaunt, pale man, and overcompensated with his colorful wardrobe.

    “Si, si. What have you done?”

    “I have relocated my phylactery to…” Ibrahim paused for dramatic effect, shooting a glance at his minion. “My telephone.”

    Miguel stared at Ibrahim in disbelief.

    “I know, you are speechless,” Ibraham continued. “I, Ibrahim Gonzalo Esparraguera am, myself, in awe of my genius.”

    “Si, master. I myself am also without words, as I question the low standards of whatever institution agreed to teach you magic. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the point of the phylactery to be kept somewhere safe? Safe and away from you?”

    Ibrahim waved a hand dismissively. “And run the risk that my enemies might happen upon it. Nonsense, Miguel. It is much safer kept upon my person.”

    “Si, Master. Of course, you also run the risk of not only having your enemy damaging your phone, whether by chance or design, but also accidentally damaging it yourself.”

    Ibrahim theatrically opened his bright orange jacket, and placed the phone, inside, patting it reassuringly. “Such a thing will not happen, Miguel. I can assure you.”

    “I don’t know, Master. I feel like you’re going to accidentally drop it in the toilet or something.”

    Ibrahim loudly scoffed. “That is only a problem for mortals such as you. As an immortal lich, I have no need for such trivialities as using the toilet.” He twirled dramatically. “If you have need of me, I shall be looking for potential replacement underlings on my new soul receptacle.”

    Miguel rolled his eyes, then returned to the magazine he was reading.

    He heard a bang from the next room, followed by a thump on the floor.

    “Curse you, bony fingers!” Ibrahim howled.

    “Did you drop your phone?” Miguel nonchalantly asked.

    “Miguel, do you, perchance, have your phone on you?”

    “I do, master.”

    “Then can you please call our provider to get me a new phone before my soul leaks out of my cracked screen?”

    1. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      Wow, this was an incredibly funny take. I really like Ibrahim, he seems like he gets to crazy and stupid situations a lot, while the calm Miguel has to clean up his messes.

      You deserve a like! Good job!

    2. I mean, there a pros and cons to keeping your soul on you, instead of in, say, a vault somewhere.
      But putting it in a PHONE?
      Yeah, I don’t see the advantage of that.

      Unless it turned it into something like a Rotom Phone…

  5. WriterOfThought Avatar
    WriterOfThought

    The Origin of Nyx
    WriterOfThought

    Young Agatha was playing in her room as she had done on many a day, too young for school but too old for a playpen, so she busied herself with stories of make believe, knowing that as she got older she would have the power to make them real.

    The oldest member of her physical aids of make believe was a patchwork cat, sewn in squares of varying shades of black and purple. The name she had given it, Nyx, was hard to pronounce at the time but she had grown into it being a second nature name, because of course whenever Agatha got into trouble, it was clearly Nyx’s idea.

    As she played in her room, an intruder worked its way under the door. Each of its hundred legs wriggled the next segment to its goal of anywhere it could reach, antennae and pincers ready to strike anything that would get in its way.

    Young Agatha noticed it as it scuttled its way into her room. She knew the word for the creature, but her two-year old mouth still had difficulty shaping the word. For now, she called it a “cement-apede,” wondering at why such a tiny thing needed so many legs.

    The centipede also noticed Agatha, and wanted to rid itself of this large intruder in its newfound home, and so prepared its venom. But it quickly found that it could not move. The ground beneath it had suddenly become sticky, as if it had been coated in glue.

    It had, in fact, been covered in glue. Agatha’s blossoming magic had gotten into a habit of gluing objects to the floor when she wanted to examine them. But she had no way of knowing that the place where she had placed the glue would also cover the airways of this insect.

    Within moments of its struggle, the centipede perished, and a white light emitted from its form, which Agatha happily caught. As she walked to put it in her toybox, though, she tripped, and the light flung itself, landing in her stuffed cat.

    And the tail flickered.

    1. This an interesting story, and one I assume is part of a larger one.
      Though, I suppose there’s nothing about this that really says that.

      I do feel like a centipede soul is probably not the best thing to inhabit a child’s stuffed cat. But really that just depends on whether a soul carries any traits with it, or if it’s essentially just an animating force.

      Now I have more questions.

      Anyway. Was the centipede covered in actual glue then? As opposed to just a magical force. And that’s why it died? Or is more that the magic made all it’s parts stick together?

      I imagine raising a child with Magic like that would be difficult if not harrowing. Even if the parents have magic as well.

      1. WriterOfThought Avatar
        WriterOfThought

        As far as I understand her magic, it was literal glue covering the centipede, suffocating it.

        Raising a magic toddler is pretty difficult from what I gather of this family. Even if her mom is a talented witch and her dad is a high ranking Grim Reaper.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This really caught me unaware.

      Well-played, sir, well-played. This is really surprising. At first, it seemed very innocent and whimsical… and then the whimsical turned a little bit like a dark fairy tale. And now I’m left with a lot of questions (mainly… do “souls” here carry something of their previous owners? I’m asking because there is a whole exploration of either a newly animated stuffed patchwork cat discovering how it is to be animated, or of a former centipede adapting to a new body and perhaps a new life – both stories that could work in really interesting ways in the style of narrative you employed here).

      Anyway, who would though of a small two year old girl taking souls magically and playing with them? Really intriguing concept. I love it.

      As a small bit of critique, I’d break the first paragraph into two sentences. Probably dropping that “so” particle, turning the comma before it into a full period and starting a new sentence in “She busied herself…”. As it is, it is a bit lenghty and could flow a bit better.

      But, truly this is my only bit of criticism. As implied before, this style of narration worked wonders to this particular narrative. Very gripping, very captivating.

      This is a great story, WriterofThought. Thanks a lot for sharing.

      1. WriterOfThought Avatar
        WriterOfThought

        Thank you for the comment! Agatha is also the character from the Into the Underworld story from October, so this is the origin of the wriggling in her backpack. Thank you for the feedback!

    3. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      This went from very cute to very not very quickly. I’m curious where centipede cat goes from here, but I’m worried about what it will try to do to little Agatha.

      One bit that confused me was her naming the stuffed cat. Why would she give it a name she can’t pronounce? Also, it’s hard to imagine Nyx as a difficult name for a child to pronounce, maybe not getting the x right.

      Overall, good job.

      1. WriterOfThought Avatar
        WriterOfThought

        The difficulty of it’s name to pronounce was a holdover from when I wanted Agatha to be 4 instead of 2, but I couldn’t justify some of her actions as a 4 year old. The letter “x” does take a bit more of a fine tongue movement than other letters.

        And worry not, Agatha does not get harmed by her stuffed cat. It desires mischief, but so does she.

  6. The lost Soul
    By:N0M4D3

    The weight of a Soul. Something the human mind can’t comprehend until it is gone. Something I only came to understand after I died in a battle. The defenders were ruthless and our exit was cut by the monsters that roamed the land.

    With no way out we could only push forward to the center of this land and end the person responsible. Each day we suffered loss after loss, until only I remained.

    When I broke their leader’s door I was greeted by myself, my false self let out a loud unearthly laugh. Unphased I raised my pistol and shot my false self in the chest causing them to slowly fade away like the monsters of the land. Before I left it made a promise to me that I will see the world in a new light after this.

    When I got home, I was told my services were no longer needed. I, a loyal human Soldier of the crown, was replaced with people who were blessed by the gods. And for all my brothers and sisters who fell in battle, their names were forgotten. No recognition of the sacrifices they made. It drove me into a spiraling descent.

    I, a loyal human Soldier of the crown, after thirty years of service was tossed away for something new. Something that only did what they were told after being bribed with the promises of gold, fame, and power. It was only when their angels became devils that they recognised me and. Allowed me, a loyal Soldier of the crown, the tools necessary to do what needed to be done.

    I did my job efficiently and quietly, without recognition, without honor, without mercy. Until I met her, a white cloaked priest with brown hair and vibrant silver eyes. I, a Soldier of the crown. Hesitated, in that moment I fell, within that moment I thought they would end me. But the priest looked at me with worry and began tending my wounds, I looked into her eyes and saw myself. A naive youth who wanted to protect the world from evil.

    I regretted my choice that day. A single drop was all it took for me to become worse than the monsters. I stayed with her until she passed, she told me she regrets not being able to see her daughters grow up, how she won’t be able to be there for their first word. She wasn’t even able to finish before going cold, and her once lively eyes faded away.

    I, a soldier. Returned to my false self’s Isle, and for the rest of my time on this mortal coil read every book, mastered every spell, created numerous alchemical enhancements, until finally. I was ready to destroy the ones who caused me to take an innocent soul.

    1. Gadrius Avatar
      Gadrius

      This story is very thought-provoking. I really enjoyed the repeated phrase “I, a soldier of the crown”, and how it seemed to be spoken with less assurance and force each time. It added to the idea that the protagonist was losing belief in themselves as their world changed.

      I had to reread it once or twice, and I still feel a little hazy on exactly what’s happening. If I’m not mistaken, you meant to leave it intentionally vague, which I think works well in the latter half of the story. But especially in the third paragraph, I wasn’t sure if there was symbolism or something to be read out of “shooting your false self”. A little bit more detail or focus there may have helped.

      That said, I really loved the progression of the main character. You can witness their initial pride, indignance, and hubris, and their eventual fall into loss and sadness. Well done!

  7. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “A Contract Unfulfilled”

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    The tall demonic figure loomed over Firani. Its body rippling with muscles beneath its ruddy skin. It’s claws slowly clenching and unclenching. It’s eyes glowing with the burning light of dying embers, which flickered in the dark the demon wore like a shroud.

    “So let me see if I understand all of this correctly,” the demon’s voice was deep and rumbled like thunder in the tall summoning chamber.

    Firani nodded rapidly and silently.

    “We had an agreement, mortal, that in exchange for your soul I would deliver your enemy into fiery torment. I have done as you asked, not merely to the letter, but also to the spirit of the request. You say you were coming to complete our contract, but you . . . dropped your soul. Is this correct, mortal?”

    Firani nodded again.

    “How did you even do that? I didn’t think mortals even COULD do that. Well, aside from liches’ losing their phylactery containing their soul, but given your bumbling summoning technique it’s clear you don’t have anywhere near the level of skill with magic needed to safely disjoin your soul from your body!” The demon grumbled with frustration.

    “Wait,” the demon added as an idea dawned upon him, followed by a look of even greater wrath, “Someone has been poaching my territory!” The demon stomped causing the chamber to tremble. “It was that Izaltar or that murderous Ublub! One of them stole your soul before I could collect! Not that a dolt like you would even notice. Why must I keep being summoned by idiots!”

    Firani looked down solemnly. The demon vanished in huff, a rush of fire and dark smoke. Then Firani’s eyes bulged from their sockets, and he began to laugh with manic wildness.

    “It worked! It really worked! I tricked a demon by hiding my soul with an illusion and it fell for the ruse!” thought Firani amidst his crazed laughter. Somewhere on the Otherside though, the demon was watching and smiling because the game had just begun.

    1. Oh ho ho! Fascinating! So was the demon playing along? Or did it only find out about the ruse by Firani admiting it?

      Honestly the part of this that’s funniest is the image of Firani like…removing their soul and putting it in their pocket before rushing to…wherever this is.

      I can’t help wondering if we’ve seen these two before, though. Or maybe that was just another story with a towering demon with rippling muscles entirely.

      This group does seem to love it’s muscley demon bois.

      Regardless, I look forward to maybe seeing how this plays out in a future story.

      Also, you’ve inspired an idea in me…

    2. Gadrius Avatar
      Gadrius

      I really enjoyed the cliffhanger ending to this story! It’s also entertaining to consider the supposed cleverness of Firani set against the powers of a powerful demon. It very much gives the vibe of a student who gave an unintelligent excuse for not turning in their assignment, then leaving a much more intelligent teacher to try and puzzle out how such an excuse c0uld be a possibility. Very fun!

      Your 6th paragraph, starting with “How did you even do that?” feels like it could be re-done to flow a little more smoothly. The second sentence seems to run on quite long and introduce a lot of ideas.

      Overall, very fun to read and exciting to imagine the next piece!

  8. Sheets Of Soul
    By Taja DaLeen

    The sound of scribbling.

    (This doesn’t work.)

    Even more scribbling. Erasing some of it.

    (This doesn’t work either.)

    A sigh. Desperately grabbing some hair. Frustration.

    (Why can’t I make this work?)

    Getting up from the chair, packing up stuff. No gentleness for the paper. None left for now.

    (I really need to make this work. I need to.)

    Shuffling along, eyes on the ground. A thump.

    (Oh my god! Did I just run into someone? How much worse can this day get? Oh Lord, I dropped my writing. Damn. Oh my god.)

    “Oh, I’m so sorry about that! Guess my head’s in the clouds too much lately.”

    Frantic reaching for the sheets. Even less gentleness now.

    (Please don’t help me. Please, just go away. Leave me alone. Don’t pick them up. Don’t pick them up. Don’t…)

    “Here, let me help you.”

    Grabbing at the sheets in that stranger’s hands. More frustration. More panic.

    (Nonononono…)

    “Are those… stories? And poems? You write?”

    Unintelligible mumbling. More grabbing at sheets. Desparation, and keeping them out of reach.

    (Please, don’t… I… I can’t… I’m not ready…)

    “Hey, that poem’s really nice! I like it. Can I read more?”

    Clutching to everything in hands. Standing straight. The need to run. To be anywhere but here.

    (… worst day ever.)

    Tears streaming down blushed cheeks. Frantic shaking of a head.

    “Oh, I’m so sorry! Really! … I screwed up, no?”

    Head hanging low. No more room for thoughts, only fear. Fear of judgement.

    “Let me make it up to you, please?”

    Handing over of the last few sheets. Holding onto all of it for dear life. More tears.

    “Name’s Shawn. Here, let me give you my number. I promise, I won’t tell anyone about your writing, ok?”

    (Does he… really mean it?)

    Hesitant looking up. Still a few tears, but also an encouraging smile. A careful nod.

    “And if you ever feel confident about sharing some of that, feel free to send me a text. I’d be really happy to get to know your thoughts. Bye now!”

    Running off without looking back. Alone again.

    (What just… happened?)

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      What just happened indeed.

      Wow, so many different emotions… and I’m so conflicted about how I feel about Shawn here. Guess you made a great job in putting us in the shoes of the protagonist (which, by the way, is the first loud silent protagonist I have ever read about).

      The idea of one’s production as its soul is great, specially considering we get the feeling the protagonist is, indeed, putting their soul to the paper. And even more interesting… is not liking the result. This (my soul) is not working. Isn’t that a feeling? There should be a name for such a mood.

      And… well, perhaps we are the worst judges of our work (and our souls, and ourselves). And maybe things can only be reflected back without inner distortions when appreciated by others.

      Though others aren’t always invited to see it.

      I really like how conflicted the story made me feel about Shawn. He did read what he was supposed to… but he also realized he screwed up. And he seems like a really sweet and caring guy. Strange that feeling conflicted is something I’m feeling good about. I guess this makes the connection with these two characters feel more real. That short interaction felt very, very real. Not just a scene, but a small clash of two worlds with unpredictable events resulting from it (and, hopefully, tempered with a bit of care so that the outcome may be positive).

      Still, what just happened?

      Amazing story, Taja. Thanks a lot for sharing.

    2. Sanguinerus Avatar
      Sanguinerus

      I always focus on setting the scene and using the senses.

      There really isn’t any reference to where the characters are, there are papers which are something of a focus of the story, but nothing else to help the reader envision the scene.

      As for using the senses, I always say to try and use at least 2 instances (given the word limit) to help the reader connect with your characters:

      “A sigh.” Use of proprioception, also helps convey the characters state of mind.

      “Desperately grabbing some hair.” Great use of touch, it also doubles down on the character’s state of mind without resorting to tautology.

      “Shuffling along, eyes on the ground.” Great use of sight and once against we’re getting a really clear view of the protagonist’s disposition.

      These are great, I’d normally have issue with the fact that they’re stacked a bit towards the start of the story and it’s normally better to have them more evenly distributed, but not here. You take the story inward, the whole point of using the senses is to help get into the mind and experiences of the character but here you lean a lot on the protagonist’s inner narrative to achieve the same goal and you do it very well.

      The character comes across as extremely anxious and has probably had their work or themself mocked in the past, it screams of someone who has had some very negative social experiences and it pours out through their actions and thoughts.

      Your choice of first person writing here also makes it more personal and relatable.

      Overall, great stuff, but saving a sentence or two to set the scene would be helpful too.

  9. LanaMae Avatar
    LanaMae

    Souls are overrated
    By : LanaMae

    Soul? Ha ,who needs one? I haven’t had one for centuries. Life is much simpler without one honestly. I walk past homeless people without feeling guilty for not helping them. I can slaughter someone and it doesn’t bother me. I even killed my wife ,with no regrets.

    Ever since my agreement with a Jin. What agreement? Well, let me tell you about it. I was working yet another 16 hour shift in the mines, when I came across a little silver bottle. Thinking it might be valuable I stuck it in my pocket.

    After work ,in the wee hours of the morning, I slipped silently into the house and went to shower before sleeping. I removed the bottle from my pocket and accidentally rubbed it, out popped the craziest looking woman I have ever seen, 4 ft tall, wild black hair, glowing violet eyes, and blue tinted skin.

    She glared at me asking “What do you want? You get one wish”, carelessly I said “I want to live forever.” She grinned maliciously as she ripped my soul from my body, and handed it to me in a tiny glass vial “don’t drop this, if you do you shall wander dispassionately forevermore” then she dematerialized.

    So of course, I dropped it, I was at the bar and got in a fight with a guy who was harassing some women. He tried to hit me, I dodged and dropped the damn vial, so of course it shattered, and my soul evaporated, in a puff of black mist.

    I killed him that night when he left the bar, no regrets whatsoever. For many centuries now if I see someone doing something I don’t like, I do something about it, usually leading to their death and my taking whatever they have that interests me. I live in luxury without a care for anyone else.

    What’s next? Maybe I will take a wife again as a plaything. It’s been awhile since I had some proper fun. If she pleases me I might even let her live. It’s a risk for her though.

    1. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This looks like a very good introduction to this soulless, uncaring character. I like your subversion of expectations by making him not miss his soul, it almost makes me wonder whether I should give up mine.

      Good Job!

  10. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    That’s the Spirit
    by Lee Strangely

    The carriage moved with awesome speed while smoke seemed to trail off the horse.

    Thunderbolts rained down in a furious symphony that shook the landscape. Twas a deafening fanfare, following their carriage no matter how fast they rode.

    Mort put on the brakes when he saw a shelter: a thin, crooked shed just off the road. Upon stopping, his magnificent steed finally flopped onto the ground… then promptly combusted.

    Mort called back into the carriage, “You think we pushed the horse a little too hard?”

    Clay kicked open the carriage door, carrying a bag that seemed nigh empty, yet took both his hands to drag across the dirt. Once inside Clay gave a sigh of relief. Another stressed grunt followed as he reached into the bag and lifted out a fiery glass orb.

    “At last!” Clay cheered, “We’re whole again!”

    The longer he held it, the more he felt his hands burn beneath it. He gave a loud yelp as his hands instinctively let it fall.

    Panicking, Mort grabbed it, making his own strange noises as he quickly and gently put it back with the other one in the bag, while it stung his hands as well.

    “Careful, careful!” Mort scolded him, “those are our souls you’re handling.”

    “Hey, at least we got em back…”

    “Yeah, but we still need to figure out how to put em back!” Mort shouted while pointing to his chest.

    “Why?”

    “What do you mean why? They’re in a burlap sack. They’re not where they’re supposed to be.”

    “Well, I just thought…”

    “Thought what?”

    “I thought they’d just…”

    “Just what?” Mort mocked him, “just fly right back in?”

    Clay looked away, blushing.

    “Clay, our souls got ripped out like bones out of a fish. They ain’t gonna just snap back like a rubber band.”

    “And how would you know?” Clay argued.

    “Because if they could, they wouldn’t be in that SACK!”

    “Then what the heck are we supposed do with em then? Swallow em?!”

    1. LanaMae Avatar
      LanaMae

      That last bit cracked me up. I am curious though why or how they ended up losing their souls. I don’t see any spelling errors or obvious punctuation issues. I loved the visual of the ride and the horse evaporating.

      I was for sure thinking it would break when he let go. Thankfully not , I am curious what would happen if they did break.

      I liked your story and I hope to see more stories in the future.

    2. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      That was pretty funny. The descriptions have a good feel to them that complements the
      lightheartedly macabre tone. Is the name Mort a coincidence because the tone reminds me a bit of Discworld? I really love their confusion of just staring at their own souls like, “Well, what now?” Great work.

  11. Soul drop

    By Galer.

    Yuneil was a simulacra, a being born for a simulation that developed a soul, brought into the real world, by powerful esoteric tech, and magical means.

    As such his soul was put inside a crystal that was embedded inside an artificial body that could be used as a way for him to interact with the world around him, after all, souls always needed a physical medium to interact with the world.

    That being said that didn’t stop accidents from happening.

    “Oh, dammit!” he said as he almost tripped, but his soul’s gem from his robotic frame popped from his chest, he tried to grab it but slipped from his fingers right into the dirt of the forest, it wouldn’t have been a problem to collect it if it wasn’t picked up by a wild animal, a Jutrako a strange feline creature with features of a slug that also loved shiny things too much.

    The animal picked the soul gem up and ran with it, making Yuneil quickly pursued the feline menace that waved through the forest he was capable to move due that his connection with his soul being like a wi-fi signal, that wouldn’t help if the little animal did something to the gem.

    During the persecution, the feline weaved through trees and stones making Yuneil jump or smash against the rock, yet he never gave up, his existence was on the line here.

    Then a strange shadow-like entity graved the feline allowing Yuneil to catch it and take the stone from its mouth, unfortunately, the gem was full of saliva due to being in the animal’s mouth which made Yuneil sight in exasperation.

    The shadow creature was a Liprasian natural denizen of the planet outside the simulation.

    “Looks like the little guy took a liking to you,” she said.

    “I would find it more pleasant if he didn’t steal my soul,” Yuneil said annoyed at the little bastard, which looked at him with innocent eyes like he didn’t take his soul last time.

    What a dangerous way to start the day right?

    1. I liked the story a lot. The plot especially, and the worldbuilding is what I enjoyed the most!

      Now, let me point some of the things I think you should take notice of. First of all, I feel like some of your sentences are too long. It makes it harder to read like that, so it’s better to sometimes shorten them or cut one long sentence into two lesser ones.

      For example, your fourth paragraph is a one long sentence. To shorten it, I’d suggest something along the lines of:
      ” ‘Oh, dammit!’ he said as he almost tripped. The gem in his robotic frame popped out of his chest. He tried to grab it, but it slipped…”
      And so on.
      It is only a suggestion of course, it doesn’t have to be shortened exactly like that, but I hope it illustrates my point.

      The rest of it are grammatical errors here and there, nothing to major but it’s making it harder to read as well.

      That being said, I encourage you to continue writing! In my humble opinion, your stories have a lot of potential, and you have a lot of imagination and creativity to put things together in a nice way. Working on a grammar is just a wrapping of a gift in your case. Good job! I’m looking forward to reading your stories in the future!

  12. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    Typing, Trade, Trust
    by Aracnarquista

    The thoughts all came in a torrent. First, I felt my arm touching it. Then, the sound of an audible clink as it touched the floor. Then silence, when I expected fainter new clinks to follow.

    And, lastly, the voice.

    “Dropped something?”

    My writing would have to wait. As far as I was concerned, I should have been alone in my room. I swiveled my chair and looked at the creature behind me. A biomechanical monstrosity of steel, flesh and flame, impossibly dressed in a sharp suit, with a small glass orb between its claws.

    The small glass orb that belongs to me.

    “You know, a soul is a terrible thing to misplace. You shouldn’t keep it materialized unless you are intending to part with it.”

    It was a demon. I knew it. And I knew I shouldn’t trust it. And, right now, he had my soul in his hands.

    Yet, I didn’t feel like he was threatening me.

    “I… was never intending to part with it. I didn’t agree to anything.”

    That strange maw contorted into a smile with way too many teeth – and yet again, it didn’t feel like he was trying to threaten me.

    “Relax, I wasn’t about to claim it as mine.” His mask-face contorted into a serious expression. “Though, I could if I wanted.” The smile returned, and he handed me the soul.

    “Why… how did you get here?”

    “Easily enough. You left the door open.” I was about to retort my door was closed, but then I felt sure he was not referring to the physical door to the house. “As to why… I’m worried about you. I thought maybe you needed to hear some words.”

    That unnatural smile, on that unnatural creature, had impossibly become almost caring.

    “I thought your kind only dealt with us to conduct trades.”

    “And that’s just one more thing that you got wrong. That, and the whole insecurity about your stories not being good enough. Frankly, wondering about selling a soul for better ideas and skill? That’s a terrible notion. As a story concept, though…”

    1. Sanguinerus Avatar
      Sanguinerus

      Hey there, as I always say I like to focus on setting the scene and using the senses.

      Here, you dive straight into the protagonist’s experiences and set the scene as you go. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, so I’ll flip my critique around to match.

      I like to say it’s good to use at least 2 instances of characters using their senses:

      “First, I felt my arm touching it.” An ambiguous use of touch, you leave the reader to fill in the gaps as you later fill in the scene, but at this point it doesn’t help us much get in the shoes of the character.

      “Then, the sound of an audible clink as it touched the floor.” A distinctive use of sound, this is better. It is odd though, later on you mention the character is in theri room, which one would take to assume it’s their bedroom, a clink implies a tiled floor, not common in a room where one sleeps.

      “Then silence, when I expected fainter new clinks to follow.” Taking note of the absence of a sense can sometimes be as good as its use. Not bad.

      “I swiveled my chair and looked at the creature behind me.” Good use of sight.

      Oddly enough, after that point there are no more direct references to senses; There’s a good amount, given the word limit but I feel it would be better if they were more even distributed throughout the story as it later gets very dialogue heavy.

      That being said, although it’s not considered a sense per se, your character comes across as fairly intuitive and you made it clear how the protagonist felt about the demon which helps the reader experience the story better.

      As for setting the scene we have “my room” implying a bedroom, a swivel chair upon which the protagonist sits and a very well described demon. Not to mention the orb of glass. This all give a good picture of what is going on. Great job.

      As for other notes I feel you leave a bit much to be interpreted and it requires a second read to be fully understood:

      The protagonist is insecure about their word and wishes intensely they could aquire greater ideas or skill, so much so that their soul materialises and falls to the floor, swiftly picked up by a demon who someone playfully hands it over and tries to leave the protagonist with a positive impression which perhaps he could leverage at a later point.

      I’d like to know if there’s anything I misinterpreted about the story, but overall this is great work.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment, Sanguinerus.

        I don’t think you misinterpreted anything. There are some things I’d think were a little bit more ambiguous than your description made them to be, but nothing in the description seems odd. My interpretation would only differ in that I wouldn’t say it is clear why and when the soul manifested (though I like your interpretation that it comes from the actual wish to acquire better ideas and skills) and the impression that maybe there is something to be gained by the demon from the interaction (though, admittedly, you worded it as a possibility). Maybe he is just really concerned about this guy and his self-esteem issues?

        (my headcannon is that the demon is one of his readers, and he does think his stories are fine. yup, maybe he earns his living bartering for souls, all right, but he is so much more than his work, you know? he loves poetry and literature!)

        I really like your pointers about the setting of the scene. For this one, I wasn’t really thinking in establishing the whole scene, though a little more care into those aspects would certainly improve the piece. What I had more than anything was an idea for a character and its voice (specifically, the demon), and how he would deal with a particular situation in a way that most wouldn’t expect.

        And about the bedroom having a tiled floor… I guess this ultimately boils down to regional differences in house arrangements. Where I come from, this is really not that uncommon. Still, it is interesting to know about this differences in how we envision things that we might take from granted (I would never thought that point could feel odd – which speaks of my lack of knowledge about how houses elsewhere are arranged as well).

        Once again, thanks for the comment!

    2. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      I quite enjoy the meta conversation with this Demon. It’s like a bit of a “pre-faust” kind of thing but instead of taking the trade, a trade is only suggested instead of offered.

      Quite a fun conversation. The only thing I have to ask is how the protagonist managed to… Accidentally manifest their soul?

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks for the comment, WriterofThought.

        Oh, have you never manifested your soul? It is quite easy, once you get the gist of it. In fact, a lot of people will say it is all about breathing technique, but this is the wrong way to go about it. The trick really is lifting with your knees. From there, one can figure it out.

        The thing about that, though, is that at least in my mind it was no accident that he manifested his soul. My first idea was that he had the soul at his side while he writes, and he keeps musing on bartering it for better stories. He is not going to do that, but he prefers to keep this possibility open. In the end, this part couldn’t fit the written story (and so, is not really part of it), but it was the image I had in my mind as to why he had his soul in material form nearby while typing a story.

    3. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      I really like how you set the tone immediately with that strong opening line. Then, you set tension by introducing what the reader immediately assumes is a threat to the fragile soul of the protagonist. And what a great ending! I feel like a lot of writers or artists in general would at least consider selling their souls to be better at their art.

      The meta aspect of it is great too, it feels so real, like it could happen to any struggling artist.

      One thing: “And, right now, he had his soul in his hands.” I think you meant to say “he had my soul in his hands”. Just a small correction.

      Overall, a really fun take! Good job!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Strong Berry.

        And, yip, you caught an error that flew me by! Thanks for that too.

        The prompt really asked me for a story that involved soultrade in a sense – though I thought it would be interesting if everyone (well, at least, the protagonist and the reader) to think of that idea, except maybe for the demon.

        So this started materializing when the other stories I had in mind weren’t really working.

        Thanks for the comment and the correction!

    4. Professional – as always. A blast of creativity! Absolutely awesome. Insanely interesting. Love it!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Weiss!

    5. I really liked this one. This whole concept of “yea, selling my soul for being better at writing” is probably something most of us here would have thought about at least once if it was possible (so it makes your character quite relatable in a way); but also the way the demon tells them that it’s not really necessary is an interesting thought.
      I guess if most of us are that character kinda close to selling their soul, we also are the demon to everyone else in this writing group. And I love that idea (cause frankly, I’ve been getting a little more confident in my writing ever since I joined it).

      The only nitpick I have for this story is that line of “The small glass orb that belongs to me” being in present tense while the rest is in past tense; kinda almost pulled me out of the story a little. But it’s still minor, nothing that makes me enjoy it any less.

      So, thank you for writing and sharing it!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot for the comment and the feedback, DaLeen.

        Yeah, three story beginning after trying something for this prompt, I was very frustrated with not making those work. So… well, if that was the place I was finding myself in at the moment, why not write from that perspective?

        And I like the idea of a compassionate demon that can see value where others can’t. I loved how you put it here – we are also this demon to everyone else here. Sounds a bit funny, but there is a beauty to it as well. I’m glad we manage to fill those shoes. I think this is one of the greatest things about this community: the continual support that comes with a caring reading.

        And… yeah, that one where I suddenly changed verb tenses was something I missed. This story in particular was not that I reread just once before posting and with a bit less care than usual, and even if I caught it, I’d be a bit unsure on how to better write it. The past tense seems more correct, but also seems like it gives a different emphasis to the line. Thought that may be just me struggling with the language minutiae.

        Thanks for the comment, and for pointing that element out!

    6. I see what you did there. The meta is AMAZING.

      “I’d sell my soul for a good idea!”

      “You would?”

      I love it. Very well done and I did have a laugh at the idea.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot.

        And just know I’m thinking that what the demon gave the character was, well, a prompt. Good that this one was a freebie!

    7. Oliver Enslad Avatar
      Oliver Enslad

      I really love how the first threat introduced in the story, the devil, was a question of whether or not they are a true threat. I enjoy the self-awareness the protagonist has, as if these demon visits are more common and it’s something that desperately did need teaching. I also love that the demon comes across as being there for just the person’s health. I love the slight fourth wall break, and it ties it altogether with leaving me to wonder if the protagonists life does get better. Great story! I would’ve liked knowing what they dropped a bit sooner, but even with such short time and detail you hid amongst action it still comes across as a great story. Keep it up!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Oliver!

        I answered a commenter before that, at least in my own headcannon, it is quite possible that this particular demon is one of the protagonist’s readers. That could open the question if his concern is born of altruistic reasons or not (though I really don’t think that’s the point – I just loved writing about a demon that could deliver some truths and see the value of something the protagonist did not).

        I wanted to deliberately lead the reader to think the story was to go in a certain direction and then go into another. The descriptions and the very nomenclature of the demon were used in this regard, and the thing about the protagonist questioning if what was going on was a threat was to imply it was, but also to prime the way for the idea that it wasn’t not to be so jarring. I think it worked really well this time!

        Thanks for the comment and the feedback!

  13. Definitely Not Canon (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By Makokam
    Content Warning: Blood & self-harm

    Keres fell to her knees, hands clutching the knife stabbed into her heart. Blood ran down her body and pooled on the floor. Her limbs trembled as the blood slowly stopped flowing, leaving only it’s stain on her skin, and the arcane symbol carved into her chest.

    “Welcome to Lichedom,” her Master, Thanatos, said, while placing a hand on her shoulder.

    Weak, and bloody, but alive, her lips pulled back into a feral grin. She’d done it. Only the second of her Master’s students to ever accomplish it. She pulled the knife from her chest and tossed it to the ground.

    She was still unsteady as she got back to her feet. Though no injury could kill her now, her body wasn’t able to shrug off the trauma it had received while mortal so easily. Her feet squished through the blood as she staggered towards the sculpted egg that now contained her soul.

    Hands shaking and slick, she gripped the egg. She picked it up and carried it back to him. She held it out triumphantly. He looked at it for a moment, then started to raise his hand. Before he could take it, her grip weakened.

    The egg fell from her hand, and shattered on the floor. Keres gasped as her soul was released, and slowly seeped back into her. Her wounds started bleeding, and the pain came rushing back. Her breath became rapid gasps as she collapsed to the floor.

    Thanatos sighed. With a wave of his hand, her flesh knit itself back together. “Do it again.”

    1. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      I love the phylactery being in an egg. Something so simple, designed for storing alive things, and so very very fragile.

      It makes me curious about the rest of your lich-making process. Especially if only 2 of Thanatos’s students have succeeded. Did they give up? Did something make them quit? Did they die? The possibilities are endless for a deathless one such as a lich.

    2. Should I assume this is not canon? Lol But seriously, this is such a literal and yet amazing take on the prompt. The blood doesn’t come across as gratuitous so much as the act Keres has to do would just be a really bloody act.

      I love the pride that both she and Thanatos have only for it to be dashed when she understandably is too weak to keep holding her soul egg and drops it. Lol I do question the logic of having her do it immediately afterwards when the problem the first time was her being too weak after the trauma, but Thanatos does come across as someone who wouldn’t care, especially with her being so close to doing something almost none of his other students had accomplished.

      You do a great job in showing how brutal it can be to become a Lich in your world as well as the power disparity between the two of them. It all comes together for an intense reading experience.

      Excellent story!

    3. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      An interesting exploration of what I assume is an non-canon alternate set of events around Lady Keres transformation into a lich. Considering its non-canon, I rather enjoyed the slightly comical sudden destruction of her phylactery (by her own hands no less) and her position of suddenly having to “do it again” which is both gruesome and agonizing to repeat the suicidal action of becoming a lich again. I also found it interesting to see an exploration of her experience of having her soul “slowly seeped” back into her body and the following effects it had on her. A good dark and darkly humorous story!

    4. Okay, that was horrifying.

      Getting Lichdom wrong involves feeling the wounds of becoming a lich as the soul goes back.

      Why do I get the feeling that Keres’ soul is going to wind up in an egg inside a goose that swims in a lake at the top of a mountain etc etc etc?

      Nicely horrific take on the prompt

  14. Impatient Glass (Darkspell Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    Mia wasn’t a glass-blower. She knew this. And yet, it had taken a burning bicycle and a dangerously hot boiler room for her to realize this. Sitting at her desk, she was now looking through a magical lens, trying to find impurities in the glass figurine she was now holding.

    “Snakes aren’t really my favourite…” Cynthia began, floating behind her.

    “Do you want a body or not?” Mia snapped.

    Cynthia shut up pretty quickly. Konrad, Mia’s crow familiar, cawed from the bed.

    “Don’t drop her. Don’t drop her.”

    “You’ve been saying that for the past fifteen minutes,” Mia huffed. “How am I supposed to focus, if you keep screeching at me.”

    “I’m not screeching, I’m cawing.”

    “Still,” Cynthia said. “Glass is fragile. Until I figure out how to manoeuvre in it, please don’t drop me. I may be a ghost, but I can still feel a host breaking.”

    Mia rolled her eyes, wishing her headphones would work. Every since Cynthia had phased through them in an attempt to get her attention, they had stopped working properly. She tapped her foot in rhythm with one of her favourite songs, trying to drown out the ghost and the crow.

    “How much longer?” Cynthia broke into her thoughts.

    “It’s done, when it’s done,” Mia grumbled. “I just need something… Konrad, can you fetch the red vial from my shoe?”

    “Your shoe?” Cynthia gave Mia a look through the glass figurine she was inhabiting.

    “Yes, my shoe. I keep important things in old shoes for safe-keeping. It’s soft, it’s practical, it’s… it’s…”

    “Smelly?”

    Mia glared at the figurine. She could have sworn that the eye of the snake just winked at her.

    “No arms. I’ll need to get used to this,” the ghost said.

    “I couldn’t find humanoids.”

    Annoyed and exhausted, Mia picked up her attempts and threw them in a wide arch, aiming for the bin. At the same time, Konrad returned, holding an old, leather shoe. In surprise, he fluttered aside and the sole dropped, hitting the glass figurine. Before anyone could react, it shattered on the hard floor.

    “Ow,” Cynthia moaned.

    1. LanaMae Avatar
      LanaMae

      Interesting story , I loved the ending of it in particular with the sole of the shoe hitting the fragile glass soul into the hard floor. What happened after would be interesting to hear about, poor Cynthia.

      Mia sounds exhausted as well as exasperated with the whole process of creating the figurine.

      Konrad very much sounds like he would make a good familiar for a witch or wizard .

      Hopefully Mia gets her headphones working again.

  15. Ein letztes Lächeln / Ein Lächeln am Ende. (One final smile/ A smile at the end).

    By: Brother Jacob of Washington church.

    An overlooking view.

    From an abandoned building’s rooftop, I watch.

    A view that swallows me, a world I cannot be part of, a world that cannot be part of me.

    A rooftop that made the world look so insignificant…Nevertheless, that rooftop, under the rust-colored sky, the vermillion sky…

    Under the endless, forever expanding Red sky, seemed…so small…it was but an echo.

    My dreams were blown into soap bubbles.

    I had nothing in this world that I could hold on to.

    I stood up. Took in the overlooking view one last time…
    It did not overwhelm me, it embraced me.

    I was…contempt…

    The beautiful scene was about to end.

    An ending to my empty story…

    FWISH.

    Un Ciel écarlate.

    As I fall down, I am enveloped in happiness.

    Une couleur reflétant l’amour du monde.

    …I know despair no longer.

    Un amour qui me préserve dans une bulle de savon.

    Guilt and regret spilling away, fading into a river of red as I come to my end.

    Laughing, I bite into the rust-colored blood.

    I look down;

    My inside was but scattered, scarlet marble.

    I look up;

    ” **!&&!^%@**$@##”

    A carcass that should not be able to speak makes sounds, as it sees its soul finally set free.

    An empty.Worthless.Tainted.SiNfUL.Disgusting.UNpUrE cadaver is left behind…

    As the body flew towards earth…bound by inescapable force, one which puts us in misery so often, it dropped to the ground.

    The soul flew…It was falling towards the endless sky…one of a golden vermillion.

    I regret that this end is just so mundane, but it is still one of my own making, a liberation of a life of simply being.

    A choice for myself, melancholy ended by my own hands.

    In my life overwhelmed by that view…could I have perhaps found the drive to make me happy?
    Who knows…

    But who is to say that life is worth more than these last moments, which truly are mine and mine alone?

    The body’s fall was a flight.

    The soul’s flight was a fall.

    I…Simply… dropped my soul towards the sky…

    And so…It fell towards the ever-expanding Sky, the End Sky.

    I finally…Got to fly…

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Interesting choice. Daring, even.

      I like the meditative thing on choice, life and death. Bold topic. And for the most part, I really like the language used in these meditative parts (the parallelism with that last fall of the body and the soul falling is incredibly poetic, and really compelling).

      This has a very bittersweet thing going on. Yup, we are talking about a definite ending, and a dramatic one at that, but it is more about choice and the enjoyment of it and the final moment than anything else. A curious case to be made.

      I’m not sure if it didn’t warrant a trigger warning, though, for the benefit of those sensible with these topics.

      I’m a bit on the fence on the use of French and German. Granted, there is a charm to it, and the phrases in French made me think on how certain things are best envisioned and colored in other languages (there is something reductive in translating the way some emotion come to us, when it comes in specific words). So I get an interesting effect. But I also had a bit of difficult with them (since my French is somewhere between atrocious and nonexistent), and so this moments were like rough patches in the flow of the text, where I needed to be taken out of it (either to momentarily ignored the words and try to interpret them by context or by looking it up). I’m still not sure how I feel about that choice.

      Anyway, pretty interesting take on “dropping”. Thanks for sharing.

      1. Thank you very much for your compliments an comments! Apologies, the french and german just felt “necessary” I guess said shirt story landed with my fellow bilingual or more friends better. And apologies for any hard times you might have head trying to understand the quotes XD. I hope you’re having a fine day!

  16. Skeleton Avatar
    Skeleton

    The Immortal Secret (The Will)
    By Skeleton

    “Is this the end, then?” Ericka’s voice pierced the night’s rain.

    When she had seen the shadow of a man slink away past the city walls towards the darkness of the forest, the deep-seeded fear that wordlessly haunted her dreams bloomed fully. It had always been a possibility that Eymir would give in—everyone knew that—but nobody believed it would happen. Nobody but her, that is.

    And now as the man stopped and looked over his shoulder, Ericka wondered if this would be the last time they would be allies.

    “Yes.” The answer was cold and to the point.

    The wulack commander felt the warmth of her frustration well in her chest. “That girl loves you, you know?” Ericka called out over the roaring around them. “You would betray that—the love that you say you value above all other things—at its strongest? Her dreams are coming true right before her eyes. You should be celebrating.”

    “A dream can quickly become a nightmare. She’ll learn that soon enough.” Eymir waited again for the inevitable.

    “I wanted to believe that you weren’t what they said you were,” she admonished, “but clearly you don’t have a heart.”

    The man shook his head, but controlled his anger. “We must all be what fate ordained us to be.” Ericka perked up at Zaila’s quote coming from the man’s mouth. Eymir turned fully, his disgust for fate apparent in his eyes. “If she wants to play hero so badly, then so be it, but she will quickly come to realize that heroes cannot exist without their counterparts. And what better villain is there—” he raised his arms dramatically to emphasize himself “—than a demon.”

    Ericka had no words for the man’s stupidity, shaking her head and giving up on him completely. “I left everything to her,” he continued. “My training, my skills, my sword… my love—she has what little good is left of my soul.”

    With that, the shadows fell to their place in the world. Ericka watched with hidden regret as the man slowly disappeared into his role.

    Zaila could never know. It would destroy her.

    1. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      Wow. Just wow. That was an amazing way to take the prompt!

      Although it is never directly implied, Eymir truley dropped his soul. But he did not drop it by accident, but for someone else to pick it up.

      It feels to me that he had planned for this to happen for a long time.

      The dialogue is very powerful, especially since you managed to put so much emotions in the view lines they actually speak, and the descriptions are doing the rest!

      Keep it up!

  17. Strong Berry Avatar
    Strong Berry

    I Haven’t Yet Lost It
    By Strong Berry

    Sometimes it feels like I lost my soul as soon as I signed the contract to work at this job.

    Everything in this place is soulless. In this grey building with grey walls, in my grey office, where the only colors in the room are from my notebooks that I leave here. In that office I waste my precious life on meaningless, boring tasks that serve a boss I hate, who works for a company that I hate. But I cannot quit. I am trapped inside this vicious cycle of making just enough to pay the bills, but never enough to leave without a constant fear of debt. Sometimes when I work, I check for my soul, but I do not always find it.

    My coworkers are soulless too, you can see it in their eyes. They do not enjoy this job, nor their fellow man’s company. We don’t speak to each other a lot, and when we do, our speech is mechanical and minimalist. We treat conversations like our tasks, we want to finish them as quickly as possible. Sometimes I try to have a deeper talk with one of them, but they are always really busy and have to get back to work. When I try to joke with them, they often give me this weird look, like I just did something very stupid and inappropriate. I hate it.

    The only escape I find from this miserable life is through writing whenever possible, usually during breaks. My notebooks in my office and text editor on my phone are the doors to my imagination, where I get to be alive for a little while and not just survive. When I’m writing, everything is possible. Even for me to feel human again.

    For when I come up with a very clever line…

    …Or think about the plot so hard I find myself mumbling…

    …Or when the hero of a story has finally finished their journey…

    Moments like these remind me I haven’t yet lost my soul.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I love this narrative. And, gosh, does this hit close to home, right?

      The way you describe the soullessness of office life is really great. The language is beautiful, even though it paints a very bleak image. The descriptions are at once precise and very emotive (even if describing a place and culture averse to most emotions), and it is very easy to put ourselves in the narrator shoes. Or, maybe more likely, to look down and recognize we were wearing those very same shoes all along.

      Describing the instruments with which the narrator deals with writing as the doors to the imagination is a very nice way to put it. I can’t help but think of them as a route of fugue, but also something that transport the writer to a word with more sense and meaning. And I love that they are hinted at the very beginning. The only thing with color in the desaturated world of the office.

      A small correction: you mistyped “from” in the second sentence of the second paragraph (“where the only colors in the room are form[from] my notebooks that I leave here”).

      Also, although I really love the tale, I found the break in style from the different sections a bit too abrupt. It does make sense – after all, we are jumping from very, very different moods and even world (bleakness/possibilities, soullessness/aliveness, the crude drudgery of office work/the escape into something beautiful that feeds the soul), but it is still aesthetically a bit too much. Maybe that could be better wrapped up in a longer format. And, anyway, that is just a small critique in an overall really good story (and a really well written one)!

      Very bleak take, but also very real. In my experience, the majority of people are economically trapped in jobs they hate (and sometimes, they don’t even now they hate it, as a coping mechanism), and even acknowledging it can be painful. But there is a door out of there, even if it can be used only a little bit. Even if one must return to the bleak world time and again in order to survive. Great, great tale. Thanks a lot for sharing it!

      1. Strong Berry Avatar
        Strong Berry

        Thanks for the critique and for the kind words!

    2. If you aren’t mumbling to yourself like a crazy person, are you even plotting, bro?

      Seriously though, I feel this way too much. I think a lot of us who aren’t lucky enough to have a job they love will be able to vibe with it. You used your word choice very well and you put the reader into this dreary, dead world of the protagonist before giving a ray of home with that one outlet. Which is very much something I also agree with.

      Lol no joke, the keyboard of my phone is burned onto the screen because I use it so frequently to write. And I loved the little teaser at that hope by pointing out that the notebooks were the only color. I initially took that literally and assumed it was colorful because they bought colorful notebooks, but the idea that they’re colorful because of what is in them is so much more beautiful.

      Needless to say, I absolutely loved this story. Excellent take on the prompt!

      1. Strong Berry Avatar
        Strong Berry

        Thank you so much for the kinds words! I’m glad my story managed to connect with you!

  18. Sanguinerus Avatar
    Sanguinerus

    A Near Death Experience (Trigger Warning: Dry British Humour)

    By Sanguinerus

    James Keogh wore a heavy coat and winter clothes. His tools were haphazardly scattered around his living room. He had just finished fixing the plug to his electric heater and plugged it into the wall, sending jolt throughout his body.

    “It appears you forgot which wire was live.” Said a deep voice from behind him.

    “You know about wiring?” Replied James.

    “I dabble.” Said the voice, and following a moment of contemplation, James realized that he was supposed to be at home alone. He spun around to see a figure standing there who was instantly recognizable, despite never having met him before.

    He saw a skeleton clad in a black robe holding a scythe. “Well blow me down! How did you get in here?” He asked in disbelief.

    “I let myself in.” Death replied before reaching forward and poking James with a boney finger.

    “Ouch!” James yelped. Death cocked his head, his expressionless face somehow portraying confusion.

    “Something is awry here.” Said Death. “They normally fall down and their soul comes out when I do that.”

    “What? Souls are real?” Replied James.

    “Of course souls are real, what do you think normally happens when people die?”

    “Well… I thought we just, ceased to be.” Said James. Death pondered that for a moment before responding.
    “Well that’s depressing… anyway, you’re cold to the touch and I’m literally a skeleton so from my perspective that’s quite exceptional.”

    James glanced down, then back at Death. “Huh.”

    Death looked James up and down. “Where is your soul?” He asked.

    “I dunno, I probably misplaced it or sommit.”

    “You lost your soul?”

    “I guess, dropped it maybe? My mates always said I have something loose.”

    “They’re normally quite firmly attached, hence the scythe.” Said Death, gesturing to his harvesting tool before they both stood for a moment of awkward silence. “Anyway, I haven’t the time to go looking for it, if you stumble across it, look after it and I’ll check in once I’m finished with everyone else.” Death said before vanishing.

    “Everyone else?” Muttered James, as a concerning realization washed over him.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Ok, let me just open by just saying I love this situation and this particular representation of Death is great. Endearing in its normalcy and practicality.

      Carelessly displacing one soul (without even knowing there is such a thing) and making your own death a logistical hassle is a great premise, and Death’s attitude of “well, not exactly my department problem, I’ll come back when you have figured it out” is both relatable and great bureaucratic comedy.

      And I can’t help but think that Death has not even informed James what a soul look or feel like – so I’m envisioning new shenanigans when the Reaper comes around again and James has a plethora of small things that might perhaps be a soul. Or maybe just chewed dog toys. I don’t know.

      The narration style is very on point with the kind of story being told: it is very matter-of-factly, and also well-humored.

      Great story! Thanks for sharing!

      1. Sanguinerus Avatar
        Sanguinerus

        Thank you for your comment.

        I’m really glad to see that I was able to get the right impression across.

        I really appreciate the feedback.

    2. First of all, I really enjoyed this idea and the back and forth between James and Death (although, to be honest, you already had me cackling at the trigger warning, so thanks for that); really nice comedy. And Death coming to collect a soul only to find out the person lost it? Genius, really.

      The only critique I have to share is that the first paragraph feels a little… jumpy? It just doesn’t flow as well as the rest of the story. Might be because of the word count, but maybe that could have been worded/written a little better.
      Also, the last bit of it (“sending jolt throughout his body”) is either missing an “a” or an “s” for jolt – like this it tripped me up a little while reading.

      But overall a great story, thank you for writing and sharing it!

      1. Sanguinerus Avatar
        Sanguinerus

        Spot on there to be honest, I had to set the scene at the start but the word limit made it tricky given that it’s so dialogue heavy, this is my first try at comedy and I moved away from my normal style.

        And yeah, it was supposed to be “a jolt” and now you’ve pointed it out it’s making me cringe! Lol.

        Thank you very much for the comment!

    3. This is a very funny approach to immortality. Just… lost the soul somewhere and they’ll find it the next time they clean up. Probably.

      What happens if he’d accidentally thrown it out?

      Considering the “everyone else” comment, I can foresee James doing excavations some centuries later into what used to be his old council’s garbage dump.

  19. The Missing Link Avatar
    The Missing Link

    Growing Pains
    By: The Missing Link

    Richard trailed his hand across the pictures all over his parents’ fridge. A smiling child stared back in each one, each a memory a lifetime away, each a memory that felt like it belonged to someone else.

    “You used to be so cute, what happened?” his mom would joke whenever he was over.

    The doorbell announced Richard’s relatives and their holiday smiles. He welcomed them in with a smile he didn’t feel, going through the motions, mechanical, rote. He’d tell the same jokes, they’d complain about the same politicians. They’d all laugh and eat the night away. The house itself would get drunk, and in the morning, it’d all go back to yesterday.

    For today, he’d pretend, pretend that everything was alright, pretend the child in those pictures was real.

    The morning came with its usual holiday hangover. Two cups of coffee and Richard was off to work, headache still blazing. Another day in the office with the cricket in the ceiling, another day hunched over a computer, another day with no one to talk to.

    Richard went back to his parents’ house after work. He’d forgotten his toothbrush on the way out.

    “Stay for dinner,” his mom insisted despite his protests.

    Roast chicken.

    Richard walked past the fridge on his way to the dishwasher, walked past those same pictures of a life once lived, walked past a world that could no longer be. He hated those pictures, hated them every time he saw them. His mom saw him in them, but he knew.

    That child was dead, he had killed him.

    1. The narrative is put together well. It reads fluently and easily, which is a big plus. Nice descriptions, that compel the reader to imagine what is being described.
      The plot leaves room to interpretation, and I like one of the possible options better. To be honest, I kind of feel pity to this person – their life is so mundane, repeating, sometimes fake. Their soul doesn’t shine.
      Overall I enjoyed reading it! Good job.

  20. Asher Fable Avatar
    Asher Fable

    To Pick Up a Soul
    By Asher Fable

    Vetle Berge is a kind man, the type who deserves the world but never asks for it. Which is why it’s heartbreaking to see him sitting in the metal arm chair, face in his hands and sobs escaping his throat.

    The Powered individuals, usually ‘heroes’ or ‘villains’, are a part of daily life in this world. Every person inherently knows the Powers and price that are asleep within them, awakening one’s Powers was as simple as accepting the price. Mr. Berge is a Norwegian immigrant ‘hero’ known as Istapp, a frozen King Midas with heart and skin quite literally made of ice…the special gloves on his hands, incapable of being frozen, keeps accidents from happening.

    “Mister Berge…” While Mr. Berge spends most of the year in far northern Canada, to avoid melting, New York city became his home a few years ago. New York city where now 9 year old Halla Berge, Mr. Berge’s daughter, has been kept to cure her coma and seizures since that awful incident with a ‘villain’ in Norway.

    “…” The global Powered commission called TRUST, the Transcendental Registration Unification Safety and Testing, hasn’t been able to convince the federal and municipal government that non-Powered Halla falls under TRUST jurisdiction. The government has decided that paying Halla’s medical bill for a hero barely around isn’t worth the money, so she’s being sent to Canada.

    Even Doctor Mathieu ‘Rembobiner’ Toussaint, the French-Canadian immigrant TRUST doctor with the Powers to ‘rewind’ a patient’s physical state up to 15 minutes at the price of each minute back takes a minute from his own life, couldn’t convince the government to keep Halla. Halla is her father’s heart and soul…she’s likely going to die before making it to the new hospital. Russel fears Mr. Berge may lose himself for revenge.

    “If I could help…” Being an accountant for NYC TRUST ‘heroes’ doesn’t pay nearly enough to cover Halla’s medical bills, even the salary of a ‘hero’ or two isn’t enough. Wait…HE may not have the money, but he has a list of clients who just might together.

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      Interesting story, Asher. A little girl is going to lose her soul to death because her father can’t pay the bills. Heartbreaking. The corporation doesn’t seem corrupt, but I understand how Mr. Berge might see it as such. I wouldn’t blame him, either.

      Critiques:

      Every person inherently knows the Powers and price that are asleep within them(;) awakening one’s Powers was as simple as accepting the price.

      Also, a lot of the sentences are very long and make them more difficult to read. Perhaps breaking them up would help. I don’t mind the exposition, but I feel a lot of it is not necessary to understand the story.

      Even Doctor Mathieu ‘Rembobiner’ Toussaint, the French-Canadian immigrant TRUST doctor with the Powers to ‘rewind’ a patient’s physical state up to 15 minutes at the price of each minute back takes a minute from his own life, couldn’t convince the government to keep Halla. (This line especially feels unnecessarily long. I don’t think knowing what his ability is is important. You could have just kept his status, and it would have been fine. Also, you introduce him as a doctor twice.)

      For me personally, a lot of the main point gets lost because there is so much exposition. Perhaps integrating it in a less direct way will help it? Or leaving out things that aren’t directly related to the story to make room for other things? There are simply my suggestions, and if you are fine with the way this is written, then it’s your story.

      I will say that I did actually enjoy the explanation of the heroes and villains. How it’s quite common and already understood in the story. I also like how this is more behind the scenes with the archetypes having their masks removed and just being normal people. That’s always fun.

      This is a very cut and dry take on the prompt, and it’s very grounded.

      I am curious to see which team of the dad is planning on summoning to help. I’m also curious to see if you are going to continue this plotline, as it’s very intriguing. Whether you do or do not, it’s a really good story overall. I am excited to see what you post next time. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing this one.

  21. Reinkarnitor Avatar
    Reinkarnitor

    Lost and Found…and lost again

    by Reinkarnitor

    „Nonono, this can’t be happening!” the black-haired girl exclaimed as she literally dug her way through a mountain of old rubbish which lied around in the attic unused for god-knows-how-long.

    “What exactly are we looking for again?” sounded a boys voice from another corner of the attic.

    “A small wooden box with a dove engraved on it” answered the girl.

    “That box…is it really that important?” the boy asked as he appeared from behind a pile of old furniture while stroking through his messy hair.

    Within less than a second the girl was in front of him, staring at him intensely with her red glowing eyes.

    “It is the most important thing ever to me! I cannot tell you the details but it would be seriously bad if I lost that!”

    “W-well, in that case we’ll just have to keep looking” he stuttered, and she disappeared again.

    Just then he spotted something beneath a layer of old dresses. It was a small wooden box, just like his friend had described it to him. He picked it up, and sure enough, there was a dove engraved onto it.

    “Oy, fangs! I think I found it!”

    “Really?” A loud noise followed the question, as if something was toppled over because the girl could not wait to get to him.

    “Yes this is it! Thank you so much John!” she said happily and gave him a quick peck on the cheeks, which led to said ones getting blushed. After a few seconds Fiona realized what she had done, and her face turned red as a tomato.

    “I-I…um…” she stuttered and walked backwards a bit, not realizing the old toy cars lying around there, and in the next second she slipped and fell over.

    “Are you okay?” John asked worried, having regained his composure.

    “I’m fine, I’m fine”, she tried to calm him down, but then she froze, as she felt that something was horribly wrong.

    “John” the girl said and looked at him sheepishly.

    “What?” The question was cautious, because the boy already feared the answer.

    “I dropped the box again.”

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      This is quite a cute story, Rein. I’m assuming Fiona is a vampire. I like the interpretation that her soul is separate and must be kept in a sacred item. It’s a fun trope.

      The characters are fun, and their interactions are funny. They work well off of each other. I’m assuming Fiona is a child or a younger vampire. Just based on how she reads as a character.

      I like the setting and how it feels like a quest adventure. You do a really good job of opening up and immersing the reader in the setting.

      Critiques:

      (“)Nonono, this can’t be happening!”

      “What exactly are we looking for again?” sounded a boy(‘)s voice from another corner of the attic.

      “A small wooden box with a dove engraved on it(,)” answered the girl.

      “W-well, in that case we’ll just have to keep looking(,)” he stuttered, and she disappeared again.

      Just then(,) he spotted something beneath a layer of old dresses.

      “Yes(,) this is it! Thank you so much(,) John!” she said happily and gave him a quick peck on the cheeks, which led to said ones getting blushed. After a few seconds(,) Fiona realized what she had done, and her face turned red as a tomato.

      “Are you okay?” John asked(,) worried, having regained his composure.

      “John(,)” the girl said and looked at him sheepishly.

      Another thing is I felt the story was a bit rushed. It seemed like it had to be read in a very fast manner. It just took a minute to get adjusted to.

      Please take these critiques with a grain of salt; they’re mostly technical. The overall story is very sweet. I haven’t read too many of your stories, but I am glad I read this one. I’m curious to see where this particular plotline goes, if you’re going to continue it. If not, then I’m glad to see whatever it is you’re going to post next. Thank you very much for writing and sharing this.

  22. J. J. Peterson Avatar
    J. J. Peterson

    Eternal Entertainment
    J. J. Peterson

    “Come one, come all! Enter the tent of wonders and horrors! Revel in unseen anomalies and spellbounding deviations!”

    Boris wandered past the giant red tent as he circulated the circus. A tall, smartly dressed man with a tall top hat and dark eyebrows hollered from the entrance, waving a baton back and forth.

    “You! Yes you, sir! Come in and have the time of your life. You won’t regret this!” The man called, pointing his baton at Boris.

    “Uh, what’s the price? I don’t have much money left, you see, I can’t resist the caramel apples.”

    “It won’t cost you a cent, sir. All you have to do is step through the flap,” he flourished it open, revealing bright lights, loud music, laughing and dancing people, and feasts laid out everywhere, “I tell you, sir, you won’t ever get a chance to have an experience like this again!”

    “And it doesn’t cost me anything?” Boris asked uncertainty.

    “Not a penny! Come one in!”

    “Well then, I guess I will.” With that, Boris strode into the tent, both hands in his pockets.

    The man pulled back the top of his suit to check his inside pocket, then laughed, “Why look, you’ve dropped your soul on the way in, sir.” Boris, though, was long gone, and didn’t hear. In fact, it was likely he’d never leave the tent again. No one ever did. The price of eternal entertainment is often greater than anyone foresees, and the cost is more astronomical than any amount of money.

    Smiling, the man started calling again, “Come on in and have the time of your life. See marvels wonder, regard terrific horrors! You! Ma’am! Come in and have the time of your life!”

    1. This is neat as hell, love that there’s just casually a tent that’s basically murdered every entrant

  23. Wells and Wishes
    by Weiss

    After a few days of wandering around, searching, Enri found himself in the field full of wild cornflowers blooming luxuriantly, stretching in all directions, taking over the skies’ shimmering azure. He followed a path, turning and twisting, narrowing endlessly, leading him further into green and blue. The path soon circled a round pile of stones covered by a wooden lid, upon which another stone was laid, as if a warning – not to touch, not to look inside. A well in the middle of nowhere, it looked hideous, inappropriate, out of place. Wrong. Sinister.

    Enri heard of it before. A while ago he met a stranger later to become a friend, whom he entrusted with his woe. In turn, he was told a story. A story, which his friend vowed to be true. About a Wishing Well, and a deal. And a price.

    The sun was setting, day – declining. Enri opened his bag in a daze from a morning’s heat, or maybe from the foretaste of the fruits his journey bore. The ritual was ready, and Enri was too. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He just hoped that the instructions he got were right.

    “With this, they… she… will be cured”

    He stared at the marble ball he held in his hand shining a feeble light. A shard of Enri’s soul was locked up inside it. Imprisoned. Confined.

    Came closer to the well, lid now open, giant boulder set aside with huge effort. He aimed into darkness. A throw. And agonizing suspense.

    He gave up a part of him he could never bring back.

    Few moments passed, stretched into infinity. But… nothing changed. Enri felt that, no, he knew it. Suddenly, a piece of parchment fell from the sky. Enri caught it. Glanced inside. And his gaze grew dim…

    At the threshold of the scarlet dawn, a midsummer wind fluttered someone’s abandoned sack. A lonely straw hat leaning on the side of the well. And a small piece of paper with two words written on it.

    “Thanks! – Well”

    1. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      Wow, what a great story! I like how you keep the reader intrigued and build suspense, especially towards the end. I guess Enri has to start choosing friends who won’t lie to him. I really like the witty ending, the personification of the well is quite humorous. I also like how through the story who add to synonyms after the sentence, by themselves, as there own sentence. I grants a greater understanding to what is going on. The first time though, it feels a bit off as you list other synonyms in a sentence, and then stop the list and state two other synonyms. Over all, great job!

      1. Thank you! I’m happy to hear you enjoyed reading it. And I really appreciate the feedback! I’m still trying to figure out stuff, so getting back the information on how you feel about my story is a great help!

    2. Asher Fable Avatar
      Asher Fable

      I’ve been going back through past prompts and reading stories to both practice the prompts and get inspiration. You’re stories are always amazing but this story is just…WOW.

      Someone so desperate for a solution that they willingly give a piece of their soul, only to end up giving the whole thing. We don’t even know if they got their wish, just that they gave up their life for it. The reader can be optimistic and hope that they did, that they just left because it was a success…or they can be more realistic, given the wording, and believe that the wish was not granted despite the life given. It’s all just so interesting!

      1. Thank you for your kind words. I’m delighted to see someone enjoy what I write, makes me want to write more and more. Thank you for being one of those who encourage me!

    3. Sanguinerus Avatar
      Sanguinerus

      Alright, as usual I like to focus on setting the scene and using the senses.

      A field full of wild conflowers on it’s own would be a basic pass. The cornflowers are blooming luxuriantly, which is cool and gives you a better picture. We have a twisting path, and a well, nicely described, great stuff. The sun setting also adds to this.

      As for senses I always say to try and use at least 2 instances of characters using senses:

      “Enri opened his bag in a daze from a morning’s heat” Good use of thermoception.

      “He stared at the marble ball he held in his hand shining a feeble light.” Good use of sight.

      “Enri caught it. Glanced inside.” Another use of sight.

      Other notes I have:

      Firstly, you have a distinctive style of writing which is pretty interesting, but there’s a fair bit of grammar fixing needed here, mostly missing words.

      Also these two instances:

      “it looked hideous, inappropriate, out of place. Wrong. Sinister.”

      “A shard of Enri’s soul was locked up inside it. Imprisoned. Confined.”

      I think in these cases you’re trying to set the tone through use of narrative cadence, but tautology is redundant and doesn’t add anything to the story.

      All told, it is well structured, compelling and well done.

      1. A piece of very constructive criticism is always welcomed. I appreciate you going out all the way to point all of these out. Grammar has always been my weak side, mostly because I don’t focus on it at all. However lately I’ve come to a conclusion that grammar is still needed, even though sometimes I feel like it would be better to break it (like in case of the missing words). I am grateful for your feedback, and happy that you liked my story.

    4. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Very interesting. Particularly, the well’s response at the end. I wasn’t expecting such a tone shift, but in this one, this was a good thing. It made that final line all the more impactful (and funnier).

      Overall, I think this is well done. The pacing is right, there is enough tension build up to make the drama work, and the descriptions really help painting the scene.

      There are some sentences that I think would be better parsed differently: an example would be the description of the well in the first paragraph (“A well in the middle of nowhere, it looked hideous, inappropriate, out of place. Wrong. Sinister.”) I’d drop that first comma and go with a full period there. It seems like the flow of it then becomes a little better and even more ominous. But this is just an example – I just feel there is a bit of n inconsistency in how some sentences are parsed, and that combined with some weirdness with some sentences with subjects missing makes me focus on the writing word a little bit too much to really immerse myself in the narrative. Nothing too bad, but it is those little things that could make a good story become truly memorable.

      Once again, this is a really good story, with very nice descriptions, good emotional weight and a surprising twist at the end!

  24. Oliver Enslad Avatar
    Oliver Enslad

    Fruits, Chairs and Roots
    by Oliver Enslad

    My hands were too smooth, so I fell again. With my back matching the floor midair, the branches looked like towers that Time permitted. I imagined knots that rose Yggdrasil’s parts were the shops that Greed storied. I painlessly hit branch after branch until the fourth, where I felt slightly uncomfortable.

    “You‘ll feel more than discomfort, like wet, hot or even slimy!” Joy mentioned of birth. So many gods, so few to tell me of Yggdrasil itself even after my thousandth or so plunge.

    On the fifth branch, I felt a great tightness then a feeling of relief. I looked around, positioning to hopefully land foot first, and like a reflection it appeared. Cloaked in emerald green, matching my silhouette. It was beautiful, and to have it pulled away was caustic. I dropped my soul.

    I hit dirt and immediately set to my feet. I had to find my precious self. I explored the base of Yggdrasil, and found a fabled Rooter guarding a doorway leading underneath Yggdrasil.

    “I just want my soul.”

    “You’re too late, for my son already fashioned it into a chair.”

    “I’ll form it back.”

    “You can’t!” At his objection, an army of the Rooters sprouted from beneath Yggdrasil. They pushed me too far from their tunnel for me to ever find the entrance again. With loss, I knew nothing but how to climb.

    Once I retried elevating, I fell again. It wasn’t unexpected but what was is I fell, for the first in a hundred times, hitting no branches and I broke through just a few roots at the base. I fell next to a entrancing, alluring chair of emerald. Undoing the folds of a Rooter, it leapt on to me and I laughed at the solution to my odium.

    I climbed once more, and finally succeeded to getting to where the fruits were. I crawled inside one, feeling comfortable for the first time. My soul shaped to the fruit, growing. It fell and I was finally born. Life was worse, I could only fall once.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This is a very, very interesting take on the prompt. Though I’d say it is more of a very interesting thing altogether.

      I find this whole setting fascinating. The whole thing about the various parts of Yggdrasil, the effects of climbing and falling it, and the denizens of said parts make for an engaging read. The way you weave the gods in the beginning gives the whole piece a poetic and somewhat epic quality, and the tale of descent and subsequent ascension – specially considering how that ascension end – reminds me of a lot of allegorical and mythological stories, all the while being quite new.

      I’m at a loss of words of what I found so interesting in this one, so I won’t extend myself too much. But I really liked it. Thanks for sharing it, and keep on writing!

  25. Lunabear Avatar
    Lunabear

    Can Souls Be Redeemed? (A Song for: Zayn)
    by Lunabear

    Zayn looked up to the winking stars. No moon beckoned him. He had never fathomed, never dreamed, that the night could be so breathtaking.

    His derisive, barking laugh choked from his parched throat. As if he had breath anymore. As if he needed to breathe ever again.

    Zayn roamed among people, a privilege Nikita had assured him she hadn’t received until four years into her second life. Numerous heartbeats only served to remind him that he hadn’t fed tonight. He covered his nose, promising to hunt deer later.

    Her words chased themselves through his head. ‘Be free to explore as you like. However, return before dawn, or I’ll have to come look for you. That wouldn’t be pleasant for either of us.’

    Her sanguine smile hadn’t hidden her venomous tone.

    Zayn had no doubt she meant every word and knew she’d deliver on her unspoken promise of punishment.

    “‘After all, it’s my duty as the one who made you to keep you in line,’” Zayn mimicked her frequent rhetoric.

    He traversed a bridge over a flowing stream. Nothing painful happened.

    The wind pulled him towards the muted, warm lights of a nearby church. He stopped several feet away, the tall grass barely tickling his skin.

    He watched the parishioners file inside, their cheerful chatter hushed.

    A man welcomed the mass, his smile engaging. From his robes and how familiar most seemed with him, Zayn pegged him as a priest.

    Zayn stepped backwards, but he was spotted. A lone silver ring glittering on his hand, the man encouraged Zayn forward.

    Zayn inched over, his eyes downcast.

    “I haven’t seen you before. Won’t you join us?”

    Zayn spied the crosses and altar from the doorway. “I…don’t think I’d be welcome.”

    “All are welcomed here, my son.” The priest touched Zayn’s hand.

    The silver sizzled against Zayn’s flesh, and he yanked away, barely hiding his fangs. A scar was left behind.

    At the man’s concerned look, Zayn shook his head. “I’m… ok. Maybe…maybe attending once won’t hurt.”

    The priest nodded, guiding Zayn over the threshold. He didn’t burn or blaze.

    Relieved, Zayn sighed.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      I do love the fight of humanity Zayn faces. I also do like how he tries to fit in, despite being a vampire.
      Now, I haven’t brushed up on my vampire mythos in a hot minute, but does silver burn them like how iron burns fairies? I don’t remember reading that. Could be wrong.

      1. Lunabear Avatar
        Lunabear

        Thank you very much for your review. Zayn is one of if not the most introspective character I’ve written, and he’s always fighting for his humanity.

        Usually, it doesn’t burn vampires. However, I’m working under the myth that vampires and Lycans (werewolves) were once one and the same creature and they eventually split into their two counterparts. That’s why a few of their weaknesses overlap.

        Again, thank you so much for your review.

    2. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      The fact that he rather hunts dear than humans is telling you a lot about his personality.

      Zayn seems to be very torn between his vampiric side and his human side, I guess he has not been a vampire for that long.

      The fact that Nikita told him that he should consider himself lucky to be allowed to walk amongst the humans also is interesting. Interesting that she allows it. I guess every child does not want to repeat their parents mistakes…I have not read everything about this, but I know it is part of a series you are doing.

      Also very interesting how he is enraptured by so many cliches about vampires which all appear to be untrue, except the silver ring, which honestly suprised me a bit because I always thought silver would be against werewolves…even though that was only invented when the first werewolf movies came out…

      But yes, very interesting ^^

      Can a vampire attend church? Maybe…just maybe, there’s a chance…

      Keep up the great work!

    3. Hmm… Interesting.
      Am I confusing characters or is this a change to Zayn’s story?

      Regardless, I like it a lot. Sounds like…kind of a good place to end up? Maybe? But probably not.

      Interesting that the silver burned him so badly, but there were no problems going into the church. Did it have to do with him being invited?

    4. D’awwww! That’s such a wholesome ending. I loved it. As always you do an amazing job at setting the stage. I also like that at no point do I think you use the word vampire and yet it’s clear as day what Zayn is and his relationship to Nikita.

      It’s also very interesting not only seeing this version of her but seeing it through Zayn’s lense.

      From there, it’s just a delight seeing Zayn test the theories of what his weaknesses should be only to find one unexpectedly. And even then, it’s not the Priest himself that hurts him, but the silver of his ring. I do like how kind the Priest comes across as and how Zayn receives it, going into the church.

      It’s just an ending that makes you smile. Here’s hoping the holy water is also not a weakness lol.

      Well done!

    5. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      An interesting story concerning Zayn and Nikita. I found it especially interesting how Nikita is explored briefly here with a very different role than we saw her in, in the past few stories from this setting. Here we see her as master warning her newly created child Zayn with a threat of punishment. It is engaging to see Kit’s development from the Christmas story where she expressed her love to a young man, or where she served her master killing a group of drunk men. Here we see her as a more lenient master releasing her child into the world to experience it as a new vampire, something she contrasts with her own experiences being locked away from humans for four years. Yet she still has that trademark vampire “sinisterness” with her “venomous tone” behind a “sanguine smile.” A much darker figure than we saw in the Christmas story.

      Secondly, Zayn himself is an interesting figure in his exploration of “what really works” when it comes to vampires and vampire myths (such as the running water and the entering of the church, or the being burned by silver). The priest is also a sympathetic character, and Zayn’s choice to enter the church seems to point toward his capacity at least for human empathy amidst his own vampiric urges (the desire to eat of the people whose heart beats he can hear, and the desire to instead hunt deer).

      All in all an interesting exploration of both characters and some of the changes they have undergone as part of their vampiric transformations.

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

      Luna, it is hard for me to put into words just how much I adore this story. All I can say is I love it so so so much.

      I mean, on one level, I suppose that’s no surprise, because you know Zayn is my favorite character of yours XD It made me so happy to see his name I was like “!!! It’s the boy!! He is here!!”

      Something I find especially fascinating about this story as a whole is the hidden dangers throughout the piece. It’s not just the church at the end, it’s the heartbeats piquing his hunger, it’s Kit herself, the running water, the silver ring, and the crosses, all before he steps foot in the church. I think that is expertly written. It also tells us about Zayn’s character, that despite all these dangers threatening him, and the way his existence poses a danger to others, he is still willing to take a chance and step into the church. The numerous dangers show that this story is about something more overarching, it’s about him hoping to have a soul and seeking the good despite the evil around.

      “Zayn looked up to the winking stars. No moon beckoned him. He had never fathomed, never dreamed, that the night could be so breathtaking.”
      –It’s really nice to see Zayn deriving some joy and light from his vampiric existence. (Another thing that seems like a theme throughout the piece, introduced beautifully).

      “His derisive, barking laugh choked from his parched throat. As if he had breath anymore. As if he needed to breathe ever again.”
      –Only to be met with the pessimistic/realistic tragedy of his existence. Beautifully done.
      (Does parched mean blood-parched?)

      “Zayn roamed among people, a privilege Nikita had assured him she hadn’t received until four years into her second life.”
      –This is both fascinating and sad. Was she basically imprisoned by her sire, or was it something else? Like she was too feral to safely walk among people?

      “He covered his nose, promising to hunt deer later.”
      –A neat little detail. So Zayn really does just eat animals? I wasn’t sure if it was a situation of him *having* to eat people eventually or if he always only ate animals.

      Nikita’s threats are a bit terrifying. Is she saying this more because she doesn’t want him to be hurt by the dawn, or is it more her perpetuating a cycle of abuse and wanting to keep a leash on him?
      The thing is, though, having read more of her story now, her threats are also rather tragic to hear. She seemed like such a sweet kid once.

      It’s kinda funny that Zayn mocks her though XD I wouldn’t have expected that from him.

      “He traversed a bridge over a flowing stream. Nothing painful happened.”
      –I love this. It’s such a small thing but adds to the theme of the story.

      “A man welcomed the mass, his smile engaging. From his robes and how familiar most seemed with him, Zayn pegged him as a priest.”
      –I like this portrayal of the priest

      Again, the silver ring is really cool too, especially because of how tiny it is. It would have been easy to have Zayn not notice and then get hurt, but him noticing the tiny thing shows just how hyper aware he is of his new existence.

      The whole conversation with the priest is great. I especially love Zayn’s phrasing of “wouldn’t hurt.” Especially after he was hurt, and has reason to believe it will.

      My only real critique, and it’s a nitpick, is “I’m… ok.” is supposed to read as Zayn stopping in his tracks, and then agreeing “ok I’ll go in” right? To me it reads as “I’m okay, I don’t need to go in.” so the next line doesn’t follow. I think at least capitalizing the O, but maybe changing the punctuation (like “I’m–Ok.”) would help.

      Are vampires’ fangs retractable in your world?

      The last thing I must say, and the thing I feel probably the most strongly about, is…I am so grateful to see a tf story that portrays Christianity in a positive light. I mean, granted, I don’t know if something bad will happen once he goes in, but if we take this story by itself, my point stands. I’ve seen a lot of tf stories that portray it in a negative light, and while everyone is welcome to share beliefs through their stories, and sometimes its just fiction, it can be quite disheartening to me to see. It warms my heart so much to read your little tale of a vampire trying to find redemption.

      Amazing job!!

  26. Can’t Touch This
    By Marx

    Matt paused, looking down at his lap and then looking up at Laila.

    “Yours is a sword.” He grumbled.

    Laila nodded, nervously biting her lower lip.

    “Mara’s is a sword.”

    Laila nodded again.

    “It’s always a sword…”

    “Well…” Laila found herself wincing. “Clearly not… always…?”

    Matt’s eyes narrowed as he stood, letting the weapon fall to the ground as he stormed out.

    “What happened?!” exclaimed Mara, bursting into the room. “Why is Matt so angry and…?”

    Mara looked up thoughtfully as she tried to pin down the emotion that she was feeling from him. “…dejected? And why is there a big scythe on the floor?”

    Laila shook her head and sighed at the direction Matt had left from. “He was curious about my sword being forged from my soul. When I said I taught you how to do it, he wanted to do it too.”

    Mara nodded. “Aaaah… I see. You know… his life would be so much easier if he just accepted that he’s Death’s horseman.”

    “Agreed. But what can we do? We’re his familiars. We support him regardless.”

    As Mara agreed with Laila’s words, a mischievous smirk formed on her lips when she looked down at the scythe. “I’m gonna touch it.”

    “Don’t you dare!” Laila growled, immediately making herself into a barrier between Mara and the weapon. “Matt’s soul is so powerful… If touching that wouldn’t kill us, it would at the very least knock us unconscious…”

    Mara’s grin widened. “Is it twisted that I want to touch it even more now?”

    Laila shook her head with a glare. “What is WRONG with you?”

    “I was born in Hell from human sin.” Mara giggled. “What’s your excuse? You’re an angel. All pure and holy and all that… You want to touch it too.”

    “I do NOT!”

    “You do remember that I can feel your emotions, right?”

    “S… shut up! Ignore that! Come on! We need to cheer him up!” Laila insisted, pushing Mara out of the room and leaving the discarded scythe where it laid.

    1. Oliver Enslad Avatar
      Oliver Enslad

      It’s funny to see such a powerful creature at the verge of a tantrum, I always love the idea of kings or similar being upset by financial mishaps in the same vein. It leaves me wanting to know more about the Angel and Demon in particular, the reason why a horseman needs endless support, and at what point the Angel or Demon really go past the other’s boundaries. Your dialogue is charming and ropes me in, I do wish I knew about the Scythe at the beginning, but overall this is a charming short!

      1. Thank you so much! I’m glad you liked it! I’m very much a fan of the same, as far as very powerful characters getting upset over seemingly trivial things.

    2. This is hilarious. The juxtaposition of the humor and lightheartedness with what could easily become dramatic and tragic is incredible. The two characters arguing is hilarious, they sound like real sibling taunts and reactions. Overall, I loved this piece, it was SOO funny.

      1. Thank you! I think one of the things I like the most about this story is how easily it could have been a very dramatic and dark piece if it wasn’t for how Laila and Mara interact with each other.

    3. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      Well that was a funny take! The setting you chose fits this prompt well, an angel and a demon arguing over the scythe of the collector of souls.

      I also like the chemistry between the two, they counter each over well, which is important considering they’re two sides of the same divine coin.

      Good job!

      1. I’m so glad you enjoyed the story so much! And that the humor all hit as it was intended. I do have a lot of fun writing Laila and Mara bickering back and forth. So happy that it shows!

    4. “I’m gonna touch the sycthe…”
      “No!”
      “I’m gonna touch it!”
      “No!”
      “I’m GONNA TOUCH IT!”
      “NO!” [Grabs it and pulls it away]
      *GASP* “YOU TOUCHED THE SCYTHE!”

      This oddly feels like it’d be either really early in or really late. Like it could either be something that sets him off doing something to prove how good and NOT destructive he is … or what finally makes him accept what he is.

      I love the idea that since she’s MADE of “Sin”, whatever that is, she’s like, “Of COURSE I want to do all the deviant shit! What’s you’re excuse?”

      We still don’t really know what the scythe looks like though.

      1. Ha! Absolutely could have done that as well. Lol and if I had more words, I probably would have continued it just to have Teriana touch it and immediately get knocked out by it(which would be a first for her since deities don’t sleep).

        And timelinewise this is definitely more early on. If Matt is still denying that he’s the horseman of Death, it’s usually earlyish.

        As for Mara though, lol someone did something heinous and she literally just poofed into existence in Hell. So when she says she’s born from sin, she’s being very literal. It’s like the other side of how human belief can create a deity.

        As for the scythe itself, I’m still working on those specifics lol. I have a general idea of what it looks like in my head. Same with Laila and Mara’s soul weapons.

        Now the real question is if Teriana made a soul weapon, being that she’s generally a pacifist and all, what form would her weapon take? My mind keeps telling me a flower crown…

  27. How we lost each other.
    By Sam C.

    “So, this is it?” the transparent man asked.

    “Yes,” said the other, identical, except for opacity. “I’m sorry I have to leave you, but I will come back if it’s the last thing I do. I promise.”

    “What if you don’t?” he said, like the thought had just occurred to him.

    “If I don’t, you have my permission to find me,” he chuckled.

    “Why do you have to go? Why can’t I stay with you?”

    “Well, while I’m with you, I can’t do some things, things that I need to do. It’s wonderful to be with you, but I can’t, not while I’m on this case.”

    “Okay,” he pouted, “But please, come back quickly! I’m not sure I can stand being alone.”

    “I’ll miss you,” he said, before hugging the other, and kissing him on the forehead. He let go, and disappeared from the white void around them.

    **********************************************************************************

    He’d lied. Her probably didn’t mean to, but he lied. After many years, his patience finally ran up, so he went to find him.

    He’d moved on, and apparently, was not a good person now. Alcohol, fame, and partying had made him a ruin of what he was the last time they’d been together. He was an angry, mean, grumpy old man.

    He’d tried to help his other part, heaven knows he did, but it was too late. He whispered in his ear; tried to get his attention. That didn’t work, he was always so busy during the day, his whispers got drowned out.

    He’d tried to talk to him while he slept, but he cried when he got close, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him.

    They danced a terrible waltz, each trying to reunite with the other, but neither could. Trying, for years trying. Eventually, though perhaps inevitably, they ran out of time, and out of hope.

    Neither would ever be with the other again. Both would wish he had never left.

    They sat in the void, long turned black, and waited. They waited for peace, they waited for relief…

    Together, they waited for death.

    1. J. J. Peterson Avatar
      J. J. Peterson

      Wow, what a great story! I like the intrigue in the first part and how it starts to make sense in the second part. I’m guessing the man who was left behind was the other man’s soul, which is quite a neat idea, though I’m sure this would be apparenet outside of the context of the prompt. Though even if it is taken as a story of two friends who fall apart, it is still quite touching. Well done.

    2. Awww, this is such a good story. Like the previous comment, I’ll assume this person gave up their soul, and due to whatever situations never came back for it. All we have to go on is that he needed to be without a soul for a case, and considering he gained fame, I’d assume that worked out for him, at least in the short term. That his own soul calls him a grumpy old man indicates that it had its toll.

      I like that you leave it up to the reader as to whether this was always meant to be the case or not. Maybe the man intended to get his soul back and never did, or maybe it was never the intention to get it back and he had lied.

      The phrasing of it being a terrible waltz as the souls wants to reconnect but can’t because it causes him too much pain or he’s simply too busy to acknowledge the attempts is just heartbreaking and you really feel it at the end.

      Great take on the prompt!

    3. Oof.

      OOF!

      This is painful.

      I do love the “dropped” as a synonym for breakup. The protagonist breaking up with their soul just to do an unseen something.

      I LOVE that by the time the reuniting happens, it’s far too late for redemption. They just have to wait for death to take them both. Which is what makes the story so painful.

      Whatever this deed was, it was clearly not worth it.

  28. Soulless Bargaining
    C. M. Weller

    Success is all that matters in the world. Those who have the right things, know the right people, and especially have the right money get all the breaks. Those who cheat to win are very vehement against anyone else cheating as badly as they did.

    Small wonder that, fighting against devils, a deal with a demon becomes necessary.

    Three gifts, three wishes, three blessings. They are always wrapped in threes.

    Three kind acts to people in need, no matter the cost. Three obstacles to overcome. Three challenges to defeat.

    Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered… I had found the one place that could give me what the world could not. I lost count of the threes that I adhered to. Lost track of which ones I had done.

    It had already cost me everything I had, but I had FOUND it.

    The door to the devil’s home. I knocked. Three times, of course.

    “You know why I’m here,” I said. “You know what I want.”

    “If that be true,” said the devil, “then you know the price.”

    Health, wealth, and happiness be damned. I wanted success, youth, and fame. Everything that everyone else who ‘won’ had had.

    I reached into my chest under the devil’s guidance, and pulled out a shining light from within.

    I dropped my soul into the little wooden box that the devil held out towards me.

    Such a small thing, in the end. Barely any weight at all. I felt no lighter for its absence. Success, youth, and fame were mine for something I didn’t even realise was gone.

    I had a fortune to start with. I could convince anyone that my ideas were the best ones.

    They poured money at me. Even the “smallest pittance” was life-changing to the me I used to be.

    They encouraged me to treat people like cogs in the great machine of making more money.

    I wondered how many of them had also traded their souls for what they had.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Good as always. I do like the rule of three, showing the monotony of all of this. The line about the cogs is good too. Keep it up.

      1. Trying very hard tbh

    2. Sanguinerus Avatar
      Sanguinerus

      I feel like a lot of the exposition here should have been expressed through dialogue. It’s clear you want to tell a much bigger story, but leaning on exposition diminishes the experience.

      The first person perspective was somewhat undermined, using first person writing is a great way to get the reader in the character’s head but without enough scene setting and without using the senses, it doesn’t go the distance. You used pressure sense when refering to the weight of the soul but that was it.

      The story itself has a nice premise and an arcane feel, just too much exposition in my opinion.

      1. Yeah the narrative/conversation balance is something I’m still fighting with. New world ends up needing more exposition for me. My bad. Working on it.

    3. Using the rule of three, an ancient fey tradition, fits. This is a really great piece, showing the slow corruption that this man goes through. It’s really chilling, and yet calm, like you’re resigning yourself to this man being terrible.

      One question: is the man’s soul being light meaning that he didn’t have much of a soul, or what else does it mean? What is the “soulless bargaining” that the title implies, like is it the business the man makes after the devil’s bargain?

      1. There was some INCREDIBLY DUBIOUS research into the weight of a human soul that [I think] resulted in the magical number of seven ounces. Not that heavy, regardless.

        I couldn’t find it again so I made the soul “very light”.

        The soulless bargaining is what happens because this person gave up their soul to get what they wanted. And also the bargains that happen amongst those who already have the advantages.

    4. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This has a mixture of a social chronicle language and an epic fairy tale register thrown in. A really interesting match. Very, very engaging. The use of maxims as describing both how this reality work and how the character think gives it a nice vibe and a certain grandeur that is very charming.

      I particularly liked how the question at the end makes me think that what is the importance of a soul for the character of someone in this story. Maybe the souls have nothing to do with it, and the successful ones are successful just because they are pragmatic bastards… or maybe, they are pragmatic bastards because they are successful. Soulless, either way. Regardless of demon commerce.

      Or maybe the soul market really is booming, and a lot of successful people really did sell their souls (Which begs the question… is there a risk of they flooding the market and causing soul devaluation? Are demons prepared to deal with inflation?).

      Really interesting and well-written tale!

      1. I do like merging fairy tales and reality as we know it. It’s fun.

        Wealth and class tend to make the people who have it… less empathetic towards those without wealth and class.

        Considering a lot of things the billionaires in the real world to to regular folks, it’s easy to suspect them of being soulless.

    5. I was gonna say fun out of reflex, but this story is not fun. It’s depressing as hell.

      I do love the use of the prompt as a very … deliberate act, rather than accidental.

      I don’t know how easy it was for him to do what he did, but the fact he seemed so sure of what he needed to do, and how unsurprised that it worked, I’m willing to be a lot of other people had done it too.
      Seems about right.

      1. Seems very right indeed, considering the state of the world today.

  29. Constellasphere Avatar
    Constellasphere

    “Dear You”
    By Constella

    “Dear Sister,

    I hope you’re doing well. As well as you can, wherever you are.”

    The ornate feather he held in his hand glittered in the light of the candle. His eyes were caught by it for a moment before he glanced around and realized how many sheets of paper he had gone through. Ares couldn’t even remember how long he’d been at this; It’s not like the clocks would give an answer, they were decorations more than anything. He ran a hand through messy gold waves before continuing.

    “I’m okay, in a sense. In the way that matters, right?”

    A frustrated sigh escaped him. What did that even mean? He crumpled yet another and discarded it among the growing sea.

    Ares’ ears flicked against curled horns as he laid out a new sheet. He didn’t immediately address the letter this time though. In his haste to write something out, he’d forgotten who he was writing to.

    If he had ever tried to speak so formally to his sister, she would have wondered what was wrong with him. Even to their superiors, Morgan acted as if they were no different from everyone else. Night Above, just remembering her attitude made him laugh fondly under his breath.

    Morgan. That name had become foreign to him, though he could never bring himself to lose it. Her pale eyes and azure hair waltzed across the peripherals of his memory; as much as he wished to forget, he couldn’t bear to do that to her.

    Though it should have brought him joy, her presence left him feeling neither alive nor lively. When the moon vanished, she took a part of him.

    Ares put the feather into the ink well and bowed his head, holding it in his hands. That familiar feeling rose from the emptiness. His chest felt like it was constricting, his thoughts overflowing, he couldn’t breathe. And yet, though he fought and eventually succeeded to hold it in, it never filled the void in him, in his being.

    Seeing that a few teardrops had landed on the paper, Ares discarded it.

    1. wow, just wow. I can’t help but say this was written beautifully. I can’t help but question WHAT Ares is exactly, but I almost don’t care. ‘Dancing around the peripherals of his memory’ AAUAUAUAUAUAUUGH it’s so well said and pretty I’m just gushing over it. lord what few questions and criticisms I have pale to how FUCKING PRETTY this story reads. Thank you for writing this.

    2. Sanguinerus Avatar
      Sanguinerus

      Okay, boring old me always says the same stuff, I focus on setting the scene and using the senses.

      “Dear Sister.” This doesn’t set the scene per se, but it does give an impression, it is of course the start of a letter, which gives the read the idea that the whole story is in fact a letter until you get past the first sentence. Our protagonists has a fancy quill in his hand and is discarding papers. The reader can infer where the character might be but realistically could be anywhere. Then the clocks kind of solidify the idea that he’s in a study.
      Honestly I feel a little conflicted about this, you’re relying on your reader’s creative reasoning to figure out where he is but you do, in fact, do a good job of it anyway. Regardless, the reader should have a good picture, right or wrong so I’d say good job.

      As for the senses, I always say try to use at least 2 instances of the character using their senses to experience the world you’ve created for them:

      “His eyes were caught by it for a moment before he glanced around and realized how many sheets of paper he had gone through.” A fantastic use of sight and a good start to the events of the story.

      “He ran a hand through messy gold waves before continuing.” Good use of touch.

      “A frustrated sigh escaped him.” A nice use of proprioception, also sighs imply a solemn state of mind.

      “Ares’ ears flicked against curled horns as he laid out a new sheet.” Use of touch, further sets the scene (introduces horns) and continues the story’s events. This is a very efficient sentence.

      “Seeing that a few teardrops had landed on the paper” Another use of sight.

      Fantastic use of the senses. Great stuff.

      As for other notes about the story, you do a good job of conveying his emotional state.

      Though I do have a few of qualms:

      “messy gold waves” You are refering to his hair here right? I wasn’t quite sure.

      “He crumpled yet another and discarded it among the growing sea (of paper).” I know this is small but it’s good to be clear, even when you’re speaking figuratively.

      “Night Above” Is this a colloquialism? If so, that’s fine, but I wasn’t familiar with it so it struck me as odd.

      All told though, a great and well written story.

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This one is carried with emotion, and the struggle to convey it… and that’s just to describe the beginning. I just love when a story focus on the inner thoughts of someone and manages to make us live these thoughts and emotions, to experience the things that are being described. This goes well beyond description – there is emotional build up, choice of impactful words and phrase construction, a good pace… and I can find all that in this story.

      And that last line… really powerful. And an amazing way of utilizing the prompt and returning back to the beginning (but in a way more emotional tone). Great tale here!

    4. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
      MelancholicOtaku

      I have a feeling that Ares soul in a way was Morgan,you can sense how important she was and still is to him.I wonder is Ares based on the god of war or the warrior type.What’s the relationship between the two,wife and husband,father and daughter,or maybe just his best friend.Either way this was beautifully written.
      Oh after reading it over again I noticed it was his sister.

  30. Immortally Immoral
    By: Boople

    Odin stood outside Loki’s workshop, the only light coming from the neon signs up outside the stairwell. He was worried for his brother. It had been some weeks since he had stepped outside, which by itself wasn’t all too uncommon. What was cause for his concern however was the occasional scream that slipped through the labs soundproofing.

    Reaching his hand to the door, he saw the camera above the frame twitch to face him.

    “Ah Brother! I didn’t expect you so soon, but I have some wonderful news! If you could just wait outside for a moment, I have to clean up.” Loki’s voice crackled through the old mic installed on the camera, and when he finished speaking Odin could hear him walking away from the mic through the static. He did not wait to be invited in.

    The door swung silently open to a well lit and pristine lab, the place where Loki’s genius gave birth to invention. Odin could see the original draft for Fenrir, a machine to level land, and along with the formula for Jormungand, a bio weapon that Loki proudly called the most potent poison. But even though all looked pristine, the place reeked of iron and decay.

    “Loki, where are you? I’ve been worried sick.”

    “Odin I asked you to stay outside for just a liiiittle bit longer, though i can’t blame you for being excited yet again.” His voice still sounded like It was coming from a speaker.

    “Loki I’m not-”

    “Well you should be! Because I figured out how to be Immortal!”

    Those words stunned Odin. This is what he’d been asking for, but his worry didn’t melt away.

    “There are still a few kinks to work out though, like I can’t say W0*rSht3cCc1ser Sauce anymore.” Loki’s voice turned to mostly electric fuzz at the word, and Odin’s blood ran cold when he saw a robot holding a bleeding heart, with a face sculpted like his brothers.

    “I do apologize if my test subjects screams bothered you, but I’d like to think my new body was worth it.”

    1. Oliver Enslad Avatar
      Oliver Enslad

      I always praise and admire the bravery of people who take on the mythos or similar and recreate it into their own story. The modernization of Loki’s trickery to be inventions in place of magic brings a new term to “god” if they are in your version. Imagining a robot failing at more complicated terms makes me laugh as well, especially if it holds the rest of Loki’s soul.

    2. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Ah what a drawback. Can’t talk about the “magical W sauce” as my math teacher called it.

      Such a creepy end. I do wonder what Odin will do about all of this.

      Great job.

    3. Sanguinerus Avatar
      Sanguinerus

      I’m not going to comment on the Norse references as I want to focus on other things, but I like what you did with it.

      Anyways, as I usually say I like to focus on setting the scene and using the senses.

      Starting with a stairwell outside a workshop illuminated with neon lights, a great start. We follow up with a camera and microphone.

      The scene moves and the scene building keeps pace nicely. Into the lab, we have a draft for a machine and formula, and you include smell in the scene setting, this is fantastic.

      As for senses, I always say try to include at least 2 instances of characters using their senses.

      Firstly the occasional screams are something that has been heard and they are the catalyst for the story, good start.

      I wouldn’t include dialouge in use of senses because of course characters can hear each other but you put in the extra footsteps and allows us to see it from Odin’s perspective.

      “The door swung open silently.” This is a specific reference to the absence of sound, the fact that we know Odin isn’t hearing this also helps the reader understand the character’s experience.

      “Odin could see the original draft for Fenrir”, you’re not just describing the scene here (though you are) you’re also portraying it once again through the eyes of the character, great stuff.

      “the place reeked of iron and decay” Here, you’re setting the scene, but because you’ve estabilshed Odin’s point of view so well, we assume this smell is striking him as he enters without you having to refer to the character directly.

      Full marks here. This story is packed full of substance and experience that really brings it to life.

    4. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This is a very interesting take on Norse mythology. Re-imagining these characters is always a risky move – there are a lot of purists there that would be overly critical by any deviation on how they perceive them – but a really nice experiment. And I really like the freshness of it all. I particularly liked how we follow Odin’s perspective, and this Odin’s thoughts on what is going on and the concern he feels are really well conveyed through the story.

      I have a very small bit of critique, in that I felt the timing when the last conversation takes place a bit odd. Specifically, it feels as if the revelation of Loki’s new body takes a bit too long to match the conversation (This is not a matter of pacing; pacing here works amazingly well. It is more a matter of suspension disbelief – I would expect Odin to either notice him earlier, or for his concern to be describe as growing due to his brother not showing up while they are talking). I think it is (as it so often is) the concessions we have to make due to the word limit – if the situations that make his appearance be delayed were implied or described, it would be a bit better. But, as said before, this is a very small bit of critique, that don’t detract from the feel and flow of the story.

      Really nice tale, Boople. I wonder how Odin would react!

      1. See, what happened here was I completely forgot to say loki was in another room at first, so Odin would just be hearing Loki, then loki would step into the well lit room from a dark one holding his own heart. Completely slipped my mind.

        Also I’m sorry that I’m not sorry to purists there is going to be an INSANE amount of deviation from the original mythos as this is part of my book. I keep hearing people write from their universes and I thought I might give it a go, so behold the debut of Cyberpunk Norse Mythology

    5. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
      MelancholicOtaku

      First off gotta say that I love the story ,especially since I’m getting into Norse mythology. I love the modern twist that you gave Odin and Loki.

  31. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    The Spirits of right now

    By Tamela Redfin

    Sapphira and Zirconia looked at their cousin, Cecilia. “What do you have against Cameron? He seems nice.” Sapphira asked.

    Cecilia shook her head. “A boy who’s that rich puts money first. It’s a little distasteful. I don’t know about his siblings Keely and Kennedy, though.”

    “He’s new. Give him a chance, Cece.” Zirconia begged.

    “Maybe, but I don’t have high hopes. Now c’mon let’s get you two home.” She said, Then she thought to herself Maybe I should try to be nice to him, to set a better example for them. Heaven knows at home they don’t have a good one.

    And there at home was Cecilia’s Aunt Reagan, smelling like an entire bar. “Where were they?!”

    “I thought I told you.” Cecilia tried to remain calm. “I took them outside so we could play. My mom knew.”

    “You have ‘Ooh, a squirrel’ disorder. Bet you didn’t tell me.” Reagan sipped an amber colored liquid. “I think you also passed it to baby Jasper.”

    Cecilia felt her blood boil. “It’s called ADHD, AUNTIE! But that doesn’t matter. Your daughters are safe and nobody hurt them. I know the divorce was hard, et cetera, but even you have no excuse to act like this!”

    “Sapphira, Zirconia, go to your room. I don’t even want to look at you.” Reagan screamed.

    Cecilia followed her crying cousins. “Shh, Cece’s here. I’m not gonna pretend your mom is okay, but Auntie Tiffani loves you.”

    “Mommy doesn’t love us.” Zirconia sobbed.

    Cecilia didn’t know how to answer. While Reagan favored her son Jasper, she still had to love her twin daughters, right?

    “Her soul is hurt, but she’s masking the pain,” Cecilia answered at last.

    “Like Cameron?” Sapphira asked.

    “…Maybe.” Cecilia shrugged.

    1. I gotta say, it’s a bit jarring seeing 6 character names introduced in such a short amount of time. I feel like you handled it well though given that naturally there gonna be a lot of dialogue and not a lot of time to really sit down with a scene and wallow in it.

    2. Sanguinerus Avatar
      Sanguinerus

      Okay, so I always comment on setting the scene and using the senses:
      It would be good to throw in a little more about where the characters are, they started outside, then they went inside, I feel it needs a bit more.

      As for senses, there’s no direct instance. There’s a passing reference to pain. Saying Cecilia’s blood boiled refers to anger, which helps us understand the character’s disposition, that’s good. We can also deduce that Reagan is drinking some kind of alcohol but we know nothing of the taste.

      Also this line could be more succinct: Then she thought to herself Maybe I should try to be nice to him, to set a better example for them. Heaven knows at home they don’t have a good one.

      Example: She thought perhaps she should be nicer to him, to set an example in lieu of their mother’s behaviour.

      You had another 63 words you could have used to clean this up. When it comes to setting the scene and helping the reader relate to characters, a little can go a long way.

    3. I love the “Oh a squirrel” disorder. I sense a joke you might have picked up from my streams.

      The hurt soul is an interesting take on the prompt. BUT Reagan is still holding all the Asshole Chips in this story for yelling at her kids and so on.

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