Writing Group: Beneath the Waves (PRIVATE)

Hello Deep Sea Divers and Enigma Code Crackers!

These waves are lovely, my dear. Their flow could sing me to sleep. Wait…did you see that? There! Each time the ocean throws itself onto the shore, something glints in the clouds of sand! Because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Beneath the Waves

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!

No doubt the first image this prompt conjures is ocean waves. Of sea monsters lurking beneath the waves. Of mermaids waiting to lure weary travelers—or maybe just peacefully living in their underwater city. Or perhaps it’s something more wholesome; a father might point out to his snorkeling daughter, just under the surface, shoals of colorful fish. You could write about sunken treasure waiting in a shipwreck to be uncovered. 

You could write about other bodies of water too. Monsters don’t have to only exist in the sea. The Loch Ness Monster is living(?) proof. You could write about a child on a fishing trip with their grandpa, or catching frogs beneath the surface of a lake. You could write about a bear teaching their cub to catch salmon in a river, or about pink dolphins clicking, chirping and singing in the Amazon. You could even write about frozen waves in the arctic or antarctic, and the lives of seals, polar bears, or penguins. 

But water waves aren’t the only kind of waves out there.  

What about sound waves? You could write about someone trying to decipher words in a garbled recording, or discern a voice through a voice changer. Maybe there’s a hidden message in a radio transmission. Or you could write about a teenager listening to their records backwards, trying to find satanic messages in metal songs. You could write about what it feels like to be beneath a plane breaking the sound barrier.

How about light? Our eyes can only pick up on so many waves of light. You could write about a butterfly or mantis shrimp, shaking its head at humanity for only being able to see derivatives of red, blue, and green when they can see so much more. Or you could write about radiation—the sinister nature beneath such waves as gamma and UV. 

Maybe your character is a returning hero. A great athlete or warrior parading through your capital’s street. The crowds are cheering, jumping and waving their hands. But between the flailing limbs are glances of grim faces, stiff figures. Maybe fans of the opposite club? Or someone who begrudges you the success. They are almost hidden by the cheer surrounding them. Almost. 

You could even write about supernatural or magical waves. Perhaps a character can find ley lines because they give off a type of magical wave. Or an oracle can hear voices from the future like waves through time. 

You could also write about emotional waves. Joy, anger, love, grief…especially when they’re particularly strong, can feel like they’re coming in waves, crashing over you. You could write about a character who feels overwhelmed by their own emotions. 

My challenge for you is just that: write about something other than water waves. You could write about seismic waves, string vibrations, vortices, light, radio waves, UV radiation, gravity, electromagnetic waves…to name a few. Of course I’m sure the stories about water waves will be wonderful too, but I want to see you guys get creative with this! 

I think I’m going to dive in and see what it is. Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?

—Paul, Felicia, Pearce and Kaylie

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

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

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

Rules and Guidelines

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

  1. Text and Formatting

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

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

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

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


Comments

53 responses to “Writing Group: Beneath the Waves (PRIVATE)”

  1. vellichorian Avatar
    vellichorian

    Survival
    by vellichorian

    “And I hope all you dear listeners can find your way back to your safe, warm nests. Our next updates on the weather and road conditions will be on the ten. But stay in and ‘Cuddle Up a Little Closer,’ with your special lovey, if you can.”

    As the velvety sound of Dean Martin’s voice filled the room, Tania snuggled back under the afghan in her recliner and sipped her tea. Jim had the Jeep, so he would be fine driving home, and she could probably finish her chapter before she had to stir the soup again.

    Almost immediately, a flash of light distracted Tania from the page. She glanced out the window, seeing nothing but swirling snow beyond the shrubbery. A few seconds later, the house shook as low rumble rolled through the room. Static hissed on the radio. Tania rose and moved to the door, clutching her blanket around her shoulders. She pressed her forehead to the glass, peering outside.

    Jim pulled the jeep into the driveway, jumped out, and ran to the door through the blowing and drifting snow. She opened the door, and he rushed past her in a gust of frigid air, cheeks pink and snow clinging to his jacket.

    “Did you hear the thunder?” Tania asked.

    “It wasn’t thunder,” he replied, continuing through to the den, his boots dropping chunks of ice in a trail behind him.

    “But what…”

    “Shh.” Jim knelt by the radio receiver and twiddled the knob.

    The DJ’s voice crackled in and out, “Callers reporting… impact… unconfirmed… explosion… authorities… recommendation…”

    A siren sounded in the distance.

    “Put on your warmest clothes. Grab as many blankets as you can carry. We need to leave,” Jim commanded.

    Tania hesitated. “But where? In this storm?”

    “To the cabin,” he replied. “NOW!”

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      This is an interesting story, vellichorian. It feels like something world shattering is approaching. The contrast in the beginning with Tania (calm, comfortable, and relaxed) clashes in a beautiful way with the end regarding Jim (rushed, frantic, and worrying). In that regards, as well as for the prompt, I love how the story and emotions ebb like actual waves. The waves could also be referring to the booming, what Tania thinks is thunder. It could very be a first wave of attack.

      I’m quite curious about what’s coming next, should you continue this storyline.

      Critique:

      A few seconds later, the house shook as (a) low rumble rolled through the room.

      Overall, this is an intriguing story with some lovely ambiguity, atmosphere, and foreshadowing. I’m excited to see what you post next. Thank you for writing and sharing this.

  2. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “Rising from the Shallows” (Aethryn Setting)

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    I finish making the complex sigil on the stone where the water meets the sands at the bottom of the cliffs. I can feel the warmth from the sigil as it glows brightly and then fades.

    “I summon you, Andorloth who perished at sea. I invoke the power of the waters to render up your soul to those gathered here,” I invoke. Now we wait for his soul to answer.

    I return to the gathered group, Andorloth’s old adventuring crew. Andorloth had been their leader, a grizzled soldier who, I was told, was swept overboard during a heavy storm at sea. He had drowned in his heavy armor and gear.

    I look over the gathered. Islin, a fellow member of the Arcane College, had asked me to use my skill at necromancy to summon the spirit of their lost leader. Aralyn, a young woman who fidgeted nervously by playing with the point of a dagger. Lastly, Talin, a cleric of the Sacred Light bearing his brightly polished scalemail.

    Talin frowns at me saying, “I still don’t like using necromancy to summon Andorloth’s soul.”

    Islin sighs irritably, “Talin, he’s a member of the Arcane College in good standing. He’s permitted to practice his craft. We need him.”

    “Not to mention this is the only way to find out the magic password to the vault,” adds Aralyn.

    The group was already starting to fragment. I could see how Andorloth must have held the group together. With him gone, they were already arguing, and they would likely go their separate ways after all of this.

    The others suddenly look up in shock, and I turn to see the ghostly figure at the water’s edge.

    “Andorloth! What’s the password to the vault?” Aralyn blurts out.

    Andorloth simply points to Talin and screams with a booming echo, “Murderer!” The agony and rage of his spirit washes over us and my spell collapses. Andorloth vanishes from our sight.

    Talin’s hand goes for his mace.

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      Neat, Arith! It would appear that you have written about water waves and emotional waves because of the fragmentation from the group and how and Andorloth reacts to Talin at the end of the story.

      A very curious thing for Andorloth to yell. I like that it’s a warning and an accusation.

      I also really like how each character feels like their own despite the word count. A really good story with some really good action and a stinger ending. I can’t wait to see what you have next. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing this.

    2. vellichorian Avatar
      vellichorian

      I am impressed with how well you reveal the important bits of backstory and worldbuilding (necromancy and magic studies, circumstances of Andorloth’s death, and the personalities of the individual characters) through the experience rather than through big blocks of exposition. I can see this being an effective hook for an RPG-style adventure story and want to know how the others react to Talin. (And whether they ever find the password to the vault.)

      Well done!

  3. Lunabear Avatar
    Lunabear

    What Are We Without Secrets? (A Song for: Kit)
    by Lunabear

    “So…you’re a monster?”

    Sharine stood to his full height, shadows dousing his eyes. “I am what I choose. Can you say the same, Nikita?”

    Kit’s stomach roiled. “It wasn’t my choice.”

    “You were turned against your will.” His face crumpled into shame. “I’m sorry.”

    Her Maker’s enraged face shot through her mind. Her knees buckled.

    Sharine caught her. “Are you ok?”

    “I don’t know.”

    Their foreheads touched. “Talking about my choice isn’t easy. How about a shower beforehand?”

    Kit nodded.

    “Ladies first.” Sharine bowed from the waist.

    “What about clothes?”

    “You can borrow some of mi–”

    “It’s unbecoming for a lady to not wear dresses.”

    “Fair enough. I know where to acquire some.”

    He led her to the bathroom, pointing out necessary items and starting the shower. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, leaving.

    Kit stripped and eased beneath the scalding spray. It was paradise.

    It was difficult to fathom, having met Sharine last night. Spending most of the day with him. Perhaps it wasn’t smart, but he had kept her safe. That should count for something.

    Realization dawned. She was awake…during daylight hours.

    Sharine’s blood.

    Kit exited the bathroom and sat on his bed.

    A light knocking sounded. “Nikita? Are you decent?”

    She hid beneath the comforter, leaving only her face exposed. “Yes.”

    Sharine entered carrying an armful of clothing, which he placed beside her.

    “Where did you get those?” Kit’s eyes roamed over the fabrics.

    “A noble family of witches. Their daughter was quite fond of a topaz ring I had.”

    “You didn’t have to.”

    “I have an extensive collection. Besides, I wanted more time with you.”

    Sunlight filled her chest. Her eyes illuminated like moonbeams.

    “Now, which dress?”

    She chose green and dressed in the bathroom, then returned.

    Sharine joined her, his arms coiling around her with intimate ease. One of his hands traveled up her back.

    Kit’s knees knocked together when his palm caressed her bare skin. His touch made her shiver.

    “Nikita? What are these welts on your back?” Blackness shaded his pupils.

    How could she have been so careless, so inattentive? Words failed her.

    1. RVMPLSTLTSKN Avatar
      RVMPLSTLTSKN

      Tag back!

      It’s good to see more of these two interacting. And yes, I do intend to read the full version. The emotional aspects in this piece are exquisite! I’m slightly confused about the time, but I’m assuming late Victorian.

      Critiques:
      This one is minor: I know she goes by Kit, but it would help new readers envision her if her full name is the first name we see (or a pronoun).
      “…when his palm hit her bare skin.” raises two questions for me. The first is the verb choice. I’m assuming Sharine isn’t hitting her, but speaking literally, that’s what’s going on here (and describing it as heavenly doesn’t really send the message I know you were intending). I’m probably overfixated on this; it shocked me. The second question is when did she get undressed? Or is the back of the dress open?

      Great job, Luna!

      1. Lunabear Avatar
        Lunabear

        Lol. Thank you so very much for your review! The time is not Victorian at all. It’s relatively recent compared to the year we’re in now. I have to work out the timeline, but this is definitely after 2000. If you’re referring to the line about her thinking it indecent for girls to not wear dresses, then that is part of her conditioning by her Maker. I apologize for not making that more clear.

        Fair critiques about her name and the verb choice. I’ll adjust.

        Lol. The back of the dress is open, and she didn’t realize it. I will do my best to make that clear in the longer version. I really do appreciate your feedback, and I’m glad you’re enjoying these two. You and a lot of other people, myself
        included, are.

        I hope the longer version does these two justice, and I hope you enjoy it.

    2. vellichorian Avatar
      vellichorian

      I’m pretty sure I’ve read a piece or two of yours featuring Kit in the past, but I haven’t been consistent enough to remember much about her larger world. That said, I think you’ve included enough information in this to make me want to learn more without being completely lost.

      I noticed you used a lot of light and shadow imagery to describe Kit’s reactions and thoughts. I think that helped my understanding quite a bit. I’m very curious to read more of Kit’s story and find out who she chooses to be in the future.

      1. Lunabear Avatar
        Lunabear

        No worries. With very few exceptions, I’ve got a nice backlog of longer versions of each of the stories I’ve submitted for her so far. I’m thankful this wasn’t so confusing. It’s not one of my stronger pieces.

        I’m really thankful that you could catch the duality between light and dark. That’s a running theme with this pair, it seems.

        I intend to write a lot more about her, and hopefully more about Sharine, in the future. So keep an eye out. In fact, I’ve written one about them both for Let’s Calm Down, Shall We.

        Thank you again.

  4. Black Ice (Tales from the Void’s Edge)
    by Alexsander Edwards

    The reflected light of Jupiter disappeared under the Europan seas.

    Alex hated Europa with all her heart, but that wasn’t her first job on the frozen moon. She’d adapted to the surface jobs by now – just strap on a cloak, brace for snow, and you’re safe, as the desolate snowscapes were borderline inhospitable.

    But things were different down here. A thick layer of ice was enough to insulate the ocean depths from most of the cold, allowing various lifeforms to thrive in the salty waters.

    That also meant fewer recon missions – and more extermination ones.

    The flashlight on Alex’s helmet barely lit the waters around her. She kept going down, ignoring the jellyfish and algae-looking creatures. Her target should be bigger – much bigger. Commander Armstrong, “useful” as always, gave the shortest description of a target she’d heard yet: it should be a “matriarch,” and “by a nest.” Wasn’t much to go on, but with the right coordinates-

    A tug on her left leg. By the time she looked down, it had turned into a strong pull. Her suit tried its best to counter the sudden pressure increase. A cacophony of creaking metal and tinnitus filled her ears as pain flared across her leg.

    Then the adrenaline kicked in.

    With a flick, a wristblade emerged from her right arm. A tentacle came in view. Another flick, followed by a sudden burst of black blood. More tentacles came, their teeth scratching her armor. She reached for the grenade launcher on her thigh. A large mouth came in view as she sliced another tentacle away. The creature wailed. She pressed an implosion grenade into the chamber as another tentacle tried to crush her lungs. Darkness encroached. Another flick, more blood covered her. The pull increased, as did the pain. She looked down and pulled the trigger.

    Silence.

    “Suit status compromised. Advised action: emergency ascent.” Her suit’s AI liked to break the silence by stating the obvious.

    With a deep sigh, she began swimming for the surface. Sure, her payment was now secured – but by God, did she hate Europa.

    1. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
      Dagmar Makara (dystop)

      Oh the maritime claustrophobia in this one! I love that you picked a place other than Earth, makes the waters that much more interesting (and more terrifying). You’ve got some really poetic imagery in there as well, like:

      “With a flick, a wristblade emerged from her right arm. A tentacle came in view. Another flick, followed by a sudden burst of black blood.” (that alliteration at the end there is great)

      The AI stating the obvious in the narration is clever, I like that even though we’re not in first-person perspective it conveys how dire the entire situation is, not just this problem but the whole mission. And great work with the motivation at the end there – makes us assume a few things & want to know more about what exactly the payments for… obviously seems high risk high reward, but then what life situation is pushing our protagonist into that? Very interesting idea, and a very well written piece overall! This is probably my favourite story out of all the ones I’ve read so far 🙂

  5. Lari B. Haven Avatar
    Lari B. Haven

    Dead air (The Agency)
    By: Larissa (Lari B. Haven)

    Dick gave the sign to the operator and put the call in the air.

    “We have a newcomer to the show. Good evening Kyle.”

    “Good evening Dick.” He responded with an icy tone. “Glad to be at Eerie Station.”

    “You sure sound glad.” Dick jokes. “So tell me, how did you discover me?”

    Kyle’s voice got distorted; the call signal suddenly got worse .

    Dick signed to his operator to see what he could do. The operator left for the other room, while he tried not to leave dead air.

    “… It just happens that I heard you in the car.” Kyle said. “You’re supposed to be in rural Indiana, right?”

    “Last time I checked…” Dick looked at the booth. The operator still hadn’t come back.

    “I’m here, and I’m alone”. Kyle’s voice got more and more warped, and the call was cutting out. “Alone… with… you…”

    “It seems your call is getting a little funky. I will move to the next call.” Dick flipped the button on the table and cleared his throat. “You’re now live, on Eerie Station…”

    “Dick, is your station really there?” It was Kyle again, angrier, almost fighting the static. “Have you ever seen the outside? Do you think it exists?”

    Dick tried to pass to the next call. He muted his microphone and called for his operator. But nothing but silence greeted him. He flipped the switch once more.

    “Dick, listen…” It was Kyle on the other line again. His voice was now tired. “We need you off air. Quit switching frequencies.”

    Dick ran to the door and tried to open, but it wouldn’t bulge.

    “You’re an anomaly, living in the radio signal. Bringing people to your fantasy while you and them wither away.” Kyle’s voice was now louder and clearer than ever. “End the transmission, Dick. Only you can do it.”

    Dick felt a hand on his shoulder.

    The radio turned to static.

    1. MasaCur Avatar
      MasaCur

      As I said when I beta-read your story, this was such a cool, creepy story, Lari. You do such a great job of establishing the tension early on, and then slowly build it as Dick keeps switching between callers, only to hear Kyle’s voice come through each channel. I’m interested in the mystery of what happened to the operator working with Dick, or how Dick’s radio program was seemingly disrupting reality, and most certainly (if Kyle was right) stripping the life from his followers. Anyway, this was a fascinating story to read, and I really loved it.

  6. WriterOfThought Avatar
    WriterOfThought

    Decision Pending
    WriterOfThought

    Jynn sat in her room, reading her favorite book for the hundredth-ish time. As she expected, she couldn’t find anything now that she hadn’t read before. She had read it as a last ditch attempt to find the answer to her current predicament.

    But if it wasn’t there the first hundred times…

    A knock on the door broke Jynn from her thoughts.

    “Jynn,” her father called from the other side of the door. “It’s morning.”

    Training time.

    Jynn donned her gi and walked down to the training hall. Every step, every second, she felt her impending choice drawing nearer. She hoped that, maybe today, the question wouldn’t come up.

    She bowed, entered the training hall, sat in her usual spot, and began her daily meditation.

    “Jynn,” her father said from his own meditative spot. “Today I want you to meditate on your birthday coming up.”

    She knew she couldn’t avoid it. He had been bringing it up more and more lately. The decision.

    “Father, I-”

    “You know I won’t be around forever,” he began. She could almost recite it by rote now he had said it so many times. “And you have full expertise in all the forms.”

    -But what if I’m supposed to learn more forms?-

    -But what if someone else is more suited to the task than me?-

    -But what if I’m not ready?-

    -What if I never will be ready?-

    These were the questions that Jynn’s mind decided to meditate on. They swirled and taunted her constantly, and waves of indecision threatened to drown her in fear.

    “You don’t have to make the decision now,” her father said, attempting to comfort her. “But you can’t delay it forever.”

    -I know that.-

    -You already know that I know that-

    -You don’t have to remind me, Dad.-

    The answers taunted as much as the questions, growing and crashing over her until she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

    When she came out of her trance, it was afternoon. And she still didn’t have an answer.

    1. Skeleton Avatar
      Skeleton

      I really liked how you chose to pursue “beneath the waves” as a way to look into a character’s inner monologue. Beneath the waves of turmoil, we often don’t get a detailed description of what a character is thinking exactly, mostly just their feelings. I also especially liked that you didn’t resolve the issue Jynn faces–that in the end, she’s still trying to decide what she wants.

      If there is one critique I could make, it would be that we don’t get to see the other side of the argument. What is stopping Jynn from taking up the mantle other than doubt? It would be nice if she had another reason to not want to be tied down to her dojo: it would give a lot more characterization to Jynn.

      Regardless, very well done!

    2. I’m guessing the few lines within dashes are meant to be Jynn’s thoughts, right? I’m not used to that way of denoting thoughts, so I was taken a bit by surprise when I first saw this story, but, upon reading it, I think I got that.

      This is a very nicely-executed scene, even if one that kind of begs for a longer story to surround it and give more context and a proper conclusion to this inner turmoil. I would very much have liked to see what Jynn’s eventual decision ends up being, and also what her father thinks of her indecision and whether he sees it as warranted or not.

      I think we could get a small glimpse of a strict parenting style underneath this very contained scene, with Jynn calling him “father” (even though, in her thoughts, he’s just “dad”) and this seemingly forced daily routine of going to the dojo and meditating for hours. But I’d like to see more of what the relationship is like, which is another thing that begs for a longer story.

      But still, a solid scene to share with us in 350 words or less, even if I’m left wanting to see more from them.

  7. RVMPLSTLTSKN Avatar
    RVMPLSTLTSKN

    Such Things As Stars Are Made From
    By RVMPLSTLTSKN

    In the vast emptiness of space, planets fly suspended like bubbles and spin in the currents of time and tide that no man shall ever see. These little isolation chambers, like celestial terrariums, house a menagerie of the ways life triumphs over death.

    But death remains, thrives even, where life has a bastion.

    Here are those who try to find solace in both, those who eschew both, those who long to have both and belong to neither. The necromancers. The wizards. The people who through art or craft attempt to see those waves which time’s current casts upon these baubles of the gods.

    One in particular, a woman named Oqramqoq, tried harder than most, discounting as petty belief all leaps of faith, all petitions to greater powers, all alliances with lesser. She was given a gift when she was very young: a story of meter and rhythm, of power and love. She heard that story many times throughout her early life, those decades which shape immortals, but never the same as that first. The ending was never the same, but she never forgot that last line.

    —these are such things as stars are made from.

    At first, she couldn’t remember how that became the final line. After years of searching, of prolonging her health, she stopped caring. Her children looked as old as she was, her grandchildren her peers, but her interest in the story matured. She began searching for older versions, things only the dead knew. She wanted the oldest version, for she thought to measure the stars by this story, to mark their path through the aeons.

    She found the storyteller who had first given her this gift. He alone had added that line. Because of his gift, and despite her angry urges, she let him rest in eternity.

    She moved further and further away, finding older and older tellings. Until she found, many hundreds of miles from her lands, the place where those stars lay in death. She conferred with them, took their story, and rewrote it, for these are such things as stars are made from.

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      That first line is amazing, RVMP! The title is also lovely. I love how it resonates throughout the story.

      It feels like two different types of waves: one with stars, and one with curiosity. I appreciate how the main character, although she does not subscribe to religion or other faiths in that regard, still holds out faith and hope for the story and its origin.

      This has the same vibe as a bedtime story. It’s quite sweet and dreamlike, as well. And I feel that the line about what the stars being made of speaks of what you choose to put into them. What sentimentalities do you attach to stars. Very well thank you so very much for writing and sharing.

  8. Rattus Avatar
    Rattus

    A Threatening Gift (Illusions of Heroes)
    by Gerrit (Rattus)

    “The Goddess Mahlia, of the Winds and Waves, will now judge you, and decide if you are worthy of a gift.”

    Emrys stood at the edge of the island, the tide lapping gently mere inches from his feet. Chief Wahage stood not far behind him, reciting a speech that Emrys could tell he had long since memorised. His words soon became almost a drone as Emrys’s focus got lost in the crowd around him.

    It seemed like almost the entire city had turned up to watch the ceremony. The crowd extended back for several feet, full of faces that, for the most part, were only vaguely familiar. Front and centre, smiling wider than he had ever seen her, stood Niri.

    Her involvement in this moment was not lost on Emrys. She had twisted her father’s arm, convinced him that Emrys deserved a gift even if he was not of their culture. Emrys felt the same way, of course, but he stood no chance of convincing anyone on his own. Befriending the Chief’s daughter certainly had its perks.

    “Mahlia will now decide the form your gift shall take,” Chief Wahage said, his speech nearing its conclusion. “You must trust in her, and believe that she knows what you need most.”

    Emrys took a deep breath, waiting to see what form his gift would take. He didn’t know what to look for, only that some kind of omen would appear to signal what form his first tattoo would take.

    As the seconds turned to minutes, and his patience began to wane, he noticed it in the distance. A thin line at first, growing as it travelled across the ocean. Before the distance had been closed, it was almost as tall as Emrys himself. He sucked in a deep breath, and hoped that Mahlia knew what she was doing.

    1. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      This is such a fun story! It has this Polynesian feeling that tells me there’s more to the story that I don’t know yet. Excellent work.

      I can’t find any grammar issues, which is what I usually look for first.

      The only question I have is “who is Emrys? What is this backstory of being from somewhere else?”

      But I’m certain that, if it hasn’t been answered in another story, it will be answered in the future.

    2. Skeleton Avatar
      Skeleton

      This piece is very calm in its presentation, but I think that adds to the ominous air about it. For me, that is the beauty of this piece: it doesn’t matter where Emrys came from or what he’s doing. In this case, the audience feels what Emrys does. There’s this sense of uncertainty in the narration, especially when it is mentioned that nobody else in the village wanted to give Emrys a gift from a goddess. It makes it seem that they all think it’s a bad idea. Traditionally, gods of the sea are fickle and temperamental, too. The last image of the piece makes it seem that perhaps Emrys had made a grave mistake.

      Excellently done!

    3. Hmm…

      I’m not familiar with these characters, so I’m not sure of these character’s motivations/intent. Seems a little sketchy to be honest. And considering the opening and closing paragraphs, and the title, it feels like we may be encroaching on “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes” territory.

      On the other hand, it could be totally above board and not sus at all. The Goddess could just be giving him a scare to make sure he doesn’t misuse whatever gift she gives him, and to be respectful of her people.

  9. MasaCur Avatar
    MasaCur

    Besieged
    By MasaCur

    Masaru went through his inventory again. About twenty arrows left. Only a couple healing potions. It was only going to be a matter of time before their foes sent another flood of combatants at their beleaguered party of adventurers.

    “How are things looking, Ritsu?” Masaru asked.

    “Mana’s pretty low. I’m trying to squeeze whatever recovery I can out of this, but once my energy’s done, so is my magic, and I’m not going to be able to do much.”

    “Same here. Running low on ammo, running low on healing. Going to be hard to act as the team’s meat shield after that.”

    Ritsu sighed. “Wait, where’s Myoni?”

    “Said he was going to get food while we recovered. He should be back soon.”

    “I hope so. If we get caught off guard while he’s eating…”

    “Hey guys! I’m back!” Myoni announced, his voice incongruously cheerful. “How’s the situation?”

    “It hasn’t changed,” Ritsu said. “We’re still waiting for the other side to launch another attack during the siege. Although, I’ve managed to get a hold of the guild to see if they can get a party to come in and break the enemy’s siege.”

    “If we can hold out that long…” Masaru said with a sigh.

    There was a pause as the three waited. The clink of chopsticks against china could be heard as Myoni ate.

    “I have an idea!” Myoni declared. “We should just charge them.”

    “That’s stupid!” Ritsu replied.

    “No, they won’t expect it. If we rush them while they’re still amassing a new wave of attackers, maybe we can take them off guard, and break out of here.”

    “Sounds risky,” Masaru said, trying to think over the proposal.

    “You know what else is risky?” Myoni asked. “Waiting here for another attack.”

    Masaru sighed. “Ritsu, you’re the strategist. Let’s at least come up with a plan to give us the best…”

    Masaru was interrupted by Myoni. “Alright, let’s do this guys! Leeeeeeroy Jeeeeeenkins!” He rushed off from the camp, not waiting for the other two.

    Masaru pulled his headphones off and tossed them at his keyboard. “Are you kidding me?”

    1. DaLeen Avatar
      DaLeen

      Honestly, I love this story. It’s a lot of fun, and at least I didn’t get at first that they were playing a video game (which I probably should have), so that last line really made me laugh. And after I read it a second time, I feel kinda ashamed I didn’t catch on sooner…

      But really, the characters are great, the story is engaging, and I can’t find anything to critique. So, good job! Thank you for writing and sharing this story!

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

    [DM me on discord for details!]

    1. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      This story is interesting for its structure and elements. We are told third person limited through the point of view of Lynai and we feel every minute of it. You decision to break up the words echoing the falling of raindrops was poetic! It echoing her self-deception about her real feelings. Her happiness in Savion’s pain, and at the same time her own conflict about what the results of vengeance has brought her. A moment of happiness in his suffering, then sadness, then regret, and then self-deception over her satisfaction about “justice.”

      We don’t really learn what Savion did to deserve Lynai’s rage, and in the end it matters much less than one might think at first. What really matters in this story is Lynai’s conflict, her feelings, her passions and longing.

      An interesting and engaging example of a character study! Well done!

    2. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
      Dagmar Makara (dystop)

      I really like this – especially the way you’ve paced it, it’s almost like poetry as prose, if you get me. The single sentences on single lines has this urgent, dire feel/vibe to it.

      This was an absolute emotional gut-punch:

      “Even while truth ravaged his mouth and all his secrets came spilling to the floor, he didn’t insult her. There were so many things he could have said but…

      He was a liar.”

      That was executed super well, and the imagery of secrets spilling to the floor is both gorgeous and anguishing.

      I think I caught SOME of the 4 waves you said were there but I’m not confident I got all of them 😛

      Overall a very emotionally wrangling, engaging story, great job!

    3. Rattus Avatar
      Rattus

      I love the way you used the beginning and ending of this story to mirror each other. It helped make the scene so much more poignant and powerful. I could really feel Lynai’s confusion and turmoil here, constantly bouncing between different emotions. The word choice was great too, your descriptions for everything were killer. This was a really great story that I very much enjoyed!

    4. Oh! A lynai story! You don’t write those often, I can only remember two or three, but they’ve always been EXCELLENT.

      Being sad in the rain is a hell of a trope, but it’s so GOOD why wouldn’t you use it?

      I love the “living ghosts”, real people triggering memories, as she walks.

      Depression/Sadness drinking is also a hell of a trope. But it’s so…realistic.

      It’s kind of curious that she calls him Savion. Not because she wouldn’t, but because she hadn’t been calling the person she misses “Savion” for all the time they were together.

      I like the idea that despite her thirst for revenge, the one she wanted revenge on was a monstrous wolf hiding away in a castle. Not a man who dances with her, and learns archery from her, and is so in love with her he thinks he’s terminally I’ll.
      And even if that all wasn’t the case…if she has any understanding of what happened to him…Savion is effectively dead.

      I’m very curious about the “[Lynai’s] a better [liar]” part. Mostly because I’m wondering what she’s lying about. Wanting revenge? Not missing Savion? Being happy about him being revealed and ousted?

      Because she doesn’t seem to be lying about any of those. Or maybe it’s just the rain.

    5. Oof! This one was a gut punch and a half. It puts me in the mind of Lynai’s attempt to kill Lestair. That she has the pain and fury to do horrible things but too much empathy and compassion to truly give into it.

      Though she clearly did something here. It’s a little ambiguous what exactly (unless she physically beat him to a pulp, felt bad about it when she saw the result, and apologized, though I took that as what she’d want to do…. which made the apology very interesting) but what she did isn’t as important as why she did it and how she felt afterwards. And those come across very strongly.

      I also really loved the rain talking at the beginning and the end. The formatting was just poetic, literally lol. The ending one especially packed quite the punch. I’m very curious what it means, but that’s all part of the intrigue.

      The other thing that stands out is how you showed Lynai’s conflicted feelings about Savion. And that makes complete sense. For all intents and purposes, Savion and Remus are VERY different beings, and with how close she became to both, consolidating them mentally into the same person would be one hell of a mindfuck. And that makes her reactions here that much stronger for the reader.

      Needless to say, loved this one lol. Looking very forward to the long version. Excellent take on the prompt.

  11. A Song from the Depths
    By Mephistopheles

    I had the unfortunate pleasure of finding myself in a little nameless town to which my friend, Avelyn, belonged. Most people have never heard of it and I dearly wish I was one of them.

    When I arrived at the airport, I found Avelyn waiting for me, dressed in festive clothes and adorned with ornamental bells. The town was some distance from the airport and a car conveyed us thither. It was an idyllic town, with the approach from land hidden by forests. To the south, it opened up to the ocean. The pastel houses with bright red tiled roofs made it resemble a painting.

    Avelyn saw me to my room and excused herself, asking me to explore as I pleased. She warned me not to venture too far into the ocean as it was the riptide season, but she assured me that there was much to explore within the town itself.

    It was midday when I set out to explore the town. Most of the decorations were ornamental bells, and at every breeze, a pleasant medley of tinkles filled the air. Larger bells tolled, too, from four large belfries and whenever they did, I had to backtrack, having somehow made my way to the now-closed beach.

    In my fatigued dreams, I heard a familiar song, gentle and welcoming. I followed the song, unaware of where it was leading me. When the song ceased, I found myself in the inky depths of the ocean. Suffocation and claustrophobia rushed at me, and as I gazed into the lightless abyss, eyes of monstrous proportions inlaid into an inky silhouette whose shape I dare not describe gazed at me. It was calling me.

    I awoke to the loud and frantic tolling of the bells and knew at once the significance of the emphasis of bells. It was their attempt to drown out the song from the depths. I left that cursed town the next morning and never heard from Avelyn again. I never strayed too close to the water, for, if I hear the song again, I know I cannot resist it.

    1. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
      Dagmar Makara (dystop)

      Beautiful piece – it really feels like you have a paintbrush and you’re painting the scene in super vivid and gorgeous detail, descriptions are definitely a strong point of yours 🙂 I absolutely love the story too, it really took a turn for psychological horror in a way, and the implication of Siren-like creatures or an ethereal Siren-type song was stunningly woven. Great work 🙂

      1. Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it!

  12. Glaceon373 Avatar
    Glaceon373

    Beach Day (Students of the DiamondBridge Academy universe)
    by Carrie (Glaceon373)

    The waves were small today. Gentle things sliding up and down the sand. Nothing gave a hint of turbulence, or of excitement, or of anything interesting at all, really.

    In other words, it was a terrible day to visit the beach.

    Olaia Tizip sighed, the sound catching on the wind. From her spot on her perfectly-placed beach towel, she could observe anything she wanted. A lizardfolk family playing games in the sand to her right, a volleyball zero-stakes tournament with one rowdy human player off to the left, and the imp lifeguard snoring loudly above her. Olaia could have woken them up easily, but no one was in the ocean, so it didn’t really matter.

    She was supposed to be relaxing. It wasn’t working.

    “Why did I even bother taking a vacation?” she groaned. “I still have work on Monday…”

    Work. She didn’t like work. No, that wasn’t true. She loved being a teacher. She loved history and helping students understand the context of historical events. She just didn’t like all the work she did when she wasn’t in the classroom, but still at the school.

    That idiot “Acting Principal” Nicklescribe. He wasn’t acting like a principal at all. He was acting like a jerk, that was what he was doing. She squeezed her hand into a fist.

    “Screw it.” Olaia stood up, knowing the lifeguard didn’t notice, then ran into the sea.

    It had been months since she’d been swimming. Her gills were out of practice. Still, Olaia pushed herself through the water, every forceful movement imagined as a kick or a punch in the face of her boss.

    The water didn’t fight back enough. She dove further out and further down, letting the pressure sink in.

    A small fish crossed her path. She snapped it up in her pointed teeth, letting it thrash for a few seconds before releasing it, watching it dart away in fear.

    Olaia closed her eyes and let out a triumphant sigh.

    “Next year, I’m taking HIS job,” she said into the water.

    The water didn’t respond, but it didn’t matter.

    1. MasaCur Avatar
      MasaCur

      I like this one. It gives a glimpse of a different viewpoint to the behind-the-scenes at DiamondBridge Academy. Sure, there have been stories where Nicklescribe has seemed a little suspicious, but it’s somewhat refreshing to see that the in-universe faculty (or at least one member thereof) has felt the same way. I like Olaia’s determined vow to take Nicklescribe’s position from him. I’m a little curious what she is. Some sort of sea creature. Not a mermaid, per say, but some kind of fishkin? Her aggressive playing with the small fish she found seems to point in that direction. Anyway, fun story to read Carrie. I like the sort of nonchalant bits of worldbuilding that got thrown in with the various races at the beach. Excellent work.

  13. Skeleton Avatar
    Skeleton

    Forgotten Memories (The Will)
    By Skeleton

    The first time Gale had ever suggested going to the beach, it was a ploy to spend a day around Mobius without his shirt. The pretence of the trip was to celebrate Remianna’s ascension into a full Magus, and while everyone else was having fun, he would be ogling and getting inspiration for his next work.

    The air was hot, the waves were mesmerizing, and the ocean waters were as blue as they were in his dreams. It would have been the perfect visit.

    Would have been.

    It really was sheer chance that Eymir would have the reaction that he did—or the lack thereof. It had been a few hours before anyone even realized that he had disappeared. Gale had offered to find him to keep up the ruse of this being Remianna’s day, but he was secretly livid at his brooding companion’s mischief.

    Gale found him a little ways away, just around a bend in the beach. The man was staring out into the waters, the tears running down his cheeks yearning to join the hoard. The sight of his expression of stoic longing destroyed any semblance of anger Gale could have had towards him. When he approached his friend’s side, Eymir began to speak without looking to his companion.

    “Do you ever feel like you’ve been somewhere a thousand times, but have never seen the place before?”

    Gale did not respond. It was not the kind of question he could answer.

    “It feels like I’ve seen this place—stood here for so long, staring out at the crests and falls of the waves. I feel this intense yearning to sink deep into it, and to lose myself completely in the darkness. It’s like there’s something waiting for me down there that I don’t even know I want. And yet… I’m terrified. I can’t bring myself to touch the water’s edge. It’s like I’m drowning just standing here.”

    Homesickness. Gale knew the feeling immediately.

    Gale stopped suggesting the beach after that; it was needlessly cruel. How could he subject homesickness to someone who’s never had a home?

    1. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
      Dagmar Makara (dystop)

      Wow, an impressive amount of world building in such a short story/wordcount! Your vocabulary is also just fantastic – “mesmerising” “Magus” “homesickness”, things like that peppered in at just the right places makes this a very cool story to read.

      This particular quote, I absolutely loved (the jamais vu, I think it’s called?):
      “Do you ever feel like you’ve been somewhere a thousand times, but have never seen the place before?”

      ….is absolutely beautiful. As for the content of the story, it’s great – the themes of isolation / homesickness are poignant and your characters feel very vivid, especially for such a short piece. Great job 🙂

  14. DaLeen Avatar
    DaLeen

    Dare To Dream?
    By Taja DaLeen

    He climbed back upon his tree, limb by limb, to where he lived. Sitting down among the branches. He wasn’t able to leave this tree, a couple of feet at most, never really far, for he was bound to it.

    He only knew this forest, these few trees, and the occasional animal to keep him company for a bit.

    His mother’s tree used to be close by, but it was long gone, what exactly had happened to her he didn’t know.

    Sometimes humans would pass by his tree. He never interacted with them, he was too afraid and shy, but he heard them talk. About clear skies not blocked by leaves, about fields of corn and wheat, and sandy beaches.

    He heard them talk about the ocean, too.

    How he would love to see it for himself! It sounded so unreal, unlike anything he ever experienced before. Nothing like his tree, this bit of land he knew, these rare guests he had.

    Once one even talked about mermaids.

    Apparently they lived in this ocean, beneath the waves, and they had a fish’s tail. He didn’t know what fishes were, only that humans ate them. But apparently they had scales, like snakes.

    He didn’t know waves as well, but he imagined them looking the same way his leaves would in the wind. Swaying gently at times, and at others dancing madly in the storm.

    It probably looked magnificent, water in the shape of his canopy of leaves.

    He really wished he could see the ocean for himself. Feel the sand beneath his feet, dip his toes into this huge body of water, not just a puddle.

    And he would like to meet some fishes, or even a mermaid.

    Were they as lonely as him? Or did they live with their families? What was it like to be underwater? How did they breathe?And what did it look like there? Were there trees as well? And… beings like him?

    He had so many questions…

    But he didn’t dare even dream to have any of them answered.

    1. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
      Dagmar Makara (dystop)

      A stunning little piece that’s full of wonder and curiosity! I love how you describe how the character imagines the sea that he’s never seen… it’s a really poetic and brilliant analogy…. “water in the shape of his canopy of leaves” – just amazing wording. You also really get a sense of this character’s motivations in terms of their very very strong sense of curiosity, but also melancholy about his loneliness. Overall, I think it’s a lovely piece of work : )

  15. Hush (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By Makokam

    Jonathan didn’t sleep much. It was a rare circumstance that allowed both mind and body to reach a point that allowed him to stop and rest. And even rarer still for that sleep to be nightmare free.

    So when the magic forced him deeper into slumber, he didn’t fight it. The small part of him that was aware of it, welcomed being pushed into the comforting embrace of Hypnos.

    He didn’t notice the “God’s-Metal” manacles and chains placed on his arms and legs. He didn’t notice being carried away.

    The mask on his face was a pale ghost of an irritation, and the gas it gave him was like a warm, fluffy blanket. He sank deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

    The rocking of the boat was soothing. He knew nothing of it, but its effects were still felt, chasing the last of remnants of nightmares away.

    The locking of weights onto the chains went completely unnoticed in his near comatose state.

    He didn’t stir as he was picked up, as he was carried, or as he was thrown over the railing.

    He flinched when he hit the water, but it was a minor disturbance.

    His heart beat had slowed to an absolutely sluggish ten beats per minute.

    His breath was even slower.

    By the time his body decided to inhale, he was quite aways down.

    He flinched and snorted as the saltwater entered his nose, only to immediately and more seriously inhale.

    This time some of the water reached his lungs, and he immediately coughed it out, only to once again inhale.

    Water out. Water in.

    He convulsed, his body not understanding why it wasn’t getting air, twisting, turning, trying to find it.

    Until finally, his eyes snapped open, burning brightly in the depths like twin suns.

    1. Rattus Avatar
      Rattus

      I like how this sounded so peaceful at first, and then the sleep that he’s falling into slowly becomes more and more sinister. You do a great job of introducing the more negative aspects of the sleep one drop at a time, until we get to him drowning and suddenly the happy imagery from the beginning is completely gone. I’m very curious about the last line, it definitely implies that there’s a lot more to Jonathan than one might assume of the top. Great story, very well done!

    2. Whelp! Someone’s gon’ die!

      Lol this was amazing. It strikes me as a very Planet Hulk deal where the motivations behind it are understandable but it’s going to end horribly once the World War Hulk part of the story starts.

      But my favorite part is just how slowly the bad aspects are given to us. They’re always there. You let us know at the beginning that someone is magically forcing him to sleep and chaining him. It was highly unlikely that was done for a good reason. But Jonathan didn’t care because it was all so nice to get that mental break.

      But as things get steadily worse and worse, it ramps up the tension until he’s trying to breathe water and even that builds up perfectly until he wakes up and you give the reader just a hint of the Havok he’s about to cause.

      Great take on the prompt!

      Lol the only criticism I have is because I read a line wrong so it’s more on me than anything. In that I didn’t realize the mask was a literal mask. I initially read it as a mask of irritation at all the other things going on and it made me read the other bit as Jonathan being gassy. You are welcome for that mental image lol. Needless to say I knew I must have read that wrong and eventually got it.

    3. Taking “sleep with the fishes” literally, huh?

      It’s been a while since I’ve last been able to actively follow the public writing group, I missed Jonathan.

      As for the story, I enjoyed a lot how the writing style followed the trance-like state Jonathan found himself in. No nefarious aspect was thrown at us in the face, things were slowly introduced and, even as they were mentioned, quickly another sentence came along to make it sound so much more peaceful than it actually was. In a way, it reminded me a bit of when your darkest impulses in Disco Elysium try to convince you to do something horrible – or that your horrible situation is juuuust fine and you should totally ignore that sensation of burning from within your lungs.

      If I were to pick some nits, I did find some typos here and there, but I think the sentence “quite aways down” instead of “quite a ways down” was the only case where it kinda took me away from the story for a brief moment.

      Still, solid story and a neat addition to Jonathan’s overall mythos.

  16. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
    Dagmar Makara (dystop)

    Long Wave 198.2
    by Dagmar Makara (dystop)

    I have lingered many sleepless nights, wearily trying to decrypt the code on 198.2. Most of it’s dead air. My eyelids are heavier than a sunken galleon and my body has failed to eat.

    What nemesis am I up against this time? Whoever this spy is, he’s depleted the last of my vodka. I feel he’s taunting me. I know he is.

    Suddenly, the static gives way to bursts of garbled speech and my heart twists and rends. As if listening to a broadcast live from hell.

    “Echo, you, you… echo”.

    I desperately snatch my pen and find my most recent notebook. There is an ocean of anarchic papers strewn across the floor, each word warping and contorting. Did I drink too much? Not enough?

    The white noise is interrupted again.

    “Two is company, three’s a crowd, four’s a nightmare, you’re not allowed.”

    Raw terror.

    I am being watched, I am sure of it. He knows. He knows I’m trying to catch him.

    I hear panicked, erratic breaths… only to realise moments later they’re my own. My heartbeat follows in this frenzied procession.

    “Useless.”

    I glance up from my notes, mortified, as if the man on the radio is speaking directly to me.

    “Useless, echo, useless, you” he menacingly declares in disturbed cacophony.

    I hear the slam of the door to the safehouse behind me, and pray this demon remains on-air for the other Agent to hear.

    Staring down at my ciphers, I finally begin to realise. A decryption emerges in Polygraphic 28. An epiphany. Lines intersect exquisitely.

    I speak for the first time in days, with the faintest hint of a laugh.

    “You’ve said too much, Agent”.

    Suddenly, a voice behind me. My colleague.

    “Agent?” she says, sounding puzzled.

    “Yes?” I say.

    “Jacob, do you know who I am? I’m your Nurse. We’ve met before. You’re not an agent, and that’s not code, it’s the weather broadcast.”

    Why does she sound… worried?

    Why does she sound… sincere?

    “Jacob, how long have you been like this?” she remarks, glancing from the vodka to the notebooks, as the weather cruelly loops.

    1. Ooof! That ending! I think you did the whole twist ending thing incredibly well here. You definitely got the idea that something wasn’t quite right in the beginning but you get so caught up in Jacob’s fear that it’s easy to just buy into it and take what he says at face value until he’s actually talking to another person.

      On one side, it’s cool that even in his delusions, he still sees the nurse as an ally. And she does seem to genuinely be worried about his welfare. But on the other side, it’s just so sad of a revelation.

      But then again, it could all be lies and its not a real nurse but the actual spy trying to make Jacob doubt his reality so he’ll divulge all his secrets!

      Most likely the sad ending though lol.

      Very well written story! Great take on the prompt!

      1. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
        Dagmar Makara (dystop)

        Thankyou for the very kind words Marx. And yes it was the sad ending.

        I wanted to give an example of what psychosis can feel like, and thought the best way to do that would be first person. For Jacob – all of that is very much real.

    2. Hmm… I.’m gonna go with “drank too much”. With a side of “ate too litle”. And heap of…something else. Mental illness, I guess, to be general

      Very cool narration. I suspected things were off when he suddenly seemed to understand the “code”. It seemed why too much like “analog horor” to be a real coded message.

      That’d be a dope way to it though.

  17. Tale As Old As Time
    By Marx

    “I don’t understand…” Yelena said, wincing from her many injuries. “…why do you keep saving me?”

    “To be fair, the first time wasn’t intentional.”

    Yelena’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t get into semantics with me, Old One! You should have let me die! It… would’ve been a death in battle… A righteous death!”

    The Old One’s eyes glowed a sinister crimson as he looked upon the wounded angel. “If you truly wanted to die, we never would have met. You wouldn’t have fled from the demons into my cave to begin with.”

    Yelena’s cheeks burned as she looked away from his piercing gaze. “That… still doesn’t answer my question. Why did you save me?”

    The fire in the Old One’s eyes slowly faded. “My soulmate… she was… reckless as well. She was willful. And I wasn’t able to save her in the end…”

    Yelena stood up, fighting against the growing tears in her eyes. “I am NOT your soulmate! I am an angel! You are an Old One! You are a demon, just like the ones who hurt me! We are enemies! You should have killed me on sight!”

    The Old One was slow to look up as Yelena summoned her sword and approached him, pointing the blade against his neck.

    “You spared my life when we first met because I didn’t attack you. What will you do now, Old One?”

    He looked down at her with a sigh. And then much to her horror, he slowly leaned forward, pressing his throat into the blade. The sizzling sound of demonic skin against a holy blade echoed through the cave, as did the acidic smell of burning demon flesh.

    Yelena squealed, dropping her weapon as she quickly backed away. “W-why did you do that?!”

    “Do you truly believe yourself to be the only one with nothing to live for? The only one who wishes to have Death’s final embrace upon them?”

    Yelena glared at the Old One, initially angry at being used that way before the hypocrisy of that anger truly hit her.

    “Now sit down and allow yourself to heal, foolish angel.”

    1. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
      Dagmar Makara (dystop)

      Wow I really like the idea of having some kind of “Old One” or ancient thing that’s communicable, especially if it’s done well like here with Yelena, your Angel character. Definitely starting to see her across these stories disregard her own life to such a brazen extent that your characterisation is fascinating to me. She seeks a righteous death but in such a reckless way, but her motivations are very interesting and I hope you expand on them.

      The descriptive imagery is good, but I think your strongest point has to be the dialogue between the the two. Just the image of an Old One and an Angel arguing about semantics in a very serious discussion is very entertaining, and how the Old One honestly cannot be bothered with her foolishness with, right at the end comments like – “Now sit down and allow yourself to heal, foolish angel”.

      Only minor critique is just one sentence: “The sizzling sound of demonic skin against a holy blade echoed through the cave, as did the acidic smell of burning demon flesh.” This was definitely one of the best sentences, but it’s making it sound like the acidic smell echoed too. However, that did nothing to detract from my enjoyment of the story. A really great piece : )

      1. Thank you so much for your review! I’ll fully admit that I enjoy these two more and more as I write them. They just have this really fun dynamic together which is just a joy to write.

        And yeah… about that one sentence, it was definitely one of those word limit things, but I totally get what you mean. I’m really glad it didn’t take away from the piece as a whole though.

    2. Since you haven’t given a better one, i’ve accepted your “Like doomsday” description and the image of that cradling and carrying away an angel is hilarious and beautiful. It’s fun to imagine it like a renaissance painting.

      Her “WTF?!” reaction to him just pressing his neck into the sword was great.

      It’s all sad though. They both feel like they have no reason to live, except their reason to live is each other. But they’re going to kill each other anyway. And it’s all part of a PLAN anyway.

      😥

      1. I’m still working on the specifics, but yeah, Doomsday is a very solid base. I do see him as solid black with either boney spikes or glowing red ones so that he has a very… built-to-fight kind of appearance. That said, I absolutely love the visual of him carrying Yelena as well lol.

        And I’ll fully admit that Yelena and the Old One do have a very bittersweet story in that you know how the story ends and it ain’t good for either of them. But for what it’s worth, in the alternate ending where Matt literally causes the apocalypse and takes his place as the new “Bob” and starts everything all over again, he does give his parents a happy immortality together.

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