Writing Group: I Locked Myself in Here

Don’t let me out, Anchorites, Submariners, and Escape Artists!

Welcome to my cell. Oh, no, that really isn’t necessary. I know you think you’d be rescuing me but…well, I don’t think your human mind is quite ready to understand. I’m just fine. Because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

I Locked Myself in Here

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 is deliciously angsty, and one that I am quite excited for. Usually being locked in is an unwanted fate. But what happens when someone puts themselves in a cage? My mind spins with many possible reasons one might do so, and that is where the fun begins. 

You could write about a werewolf-type situation, where a character knows they will transform somehow and, to protect their loved ones, they lock themselves away. This could be something that happens for a single night beneath the full moon, it could be for a week (perhaps someone who asked to become a vampire knows they can’t control their cravings), or it could be for longer if someone knows they will permanently become a monster (such as a zombie). This transformation doesn’t necessarily have to be violent, though. Think of Hermoine, when she accidentally used cat hair in the polyjuice potion. Even a terrible villain might have a cuteness spell cast on them, and they lock themselves away so their henchmen won’t see them. 

That idea of not wanting to be seen doesn’t just apply to magical situations. A child who cut their own hair, or did their own makeup for the first time, might hide away, not wanting anyone to see them. Or perhaps they lock themselves away because they broke a rule and don’t want to be punished. A teenager might lock themselves in the school bathroom after getting pantsed in front of the whole cafeteria. Even an adult might hide in the broom closet at work because they don’t want their coworkers to see them cry. 

Another, more realistic, take is mental illness. There is a wide variety of possibilities for why a mental illness might cause someone to lock themselves away. Someone in a manic or psychotic episode might lock their office door and rave to themselves. Someone who regularly experiences dissociative fugues might lock themselves away so that they don’t wake up and find themselves in another town over. Someone with a particularly intense anxiety disorder might lock themselves away because they’re afraid of the world outside. Someone with depression might lock themselves in their room, unable to do anything but lay in bed. 

There is an idea that “Hell’s gates are locked from the inside.” You could play with this idea in many different ways. Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, uses it well. The ghost of Marley says: “I wear the chain I forged in life…I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.” This could be an interesting direction to take the prompt. What choices of ours symbolically lock us away? Sometimes you might feel as if you are watching this happen from the outside—anyone who knew Scrooge could see he created his own chains through his miserly living. Perhaps you could write about what it’s like to watch someone lock themselves away…even though they don’t see the spiritual prison walls they’re creating. 

You could go even more literal than that. Oftentimes we lock pieces of ourselves away that we are afraid will get hurt. You could write about how someone locked a part of themselves away in their own heart—they don’t let their creativity shine, they hide their sensitivity, they don’t let themselves pursue their true passion in life. 

Even an event could count as this. It makes me think of the Sanders Sides episode where Thomas wants to go to an acting callback…but he promised his friends he would go to their wedding, and can’t back out now. He “locked” himself into that event. There are lots of plans I could see someone feeling like they’re locked into that they can’t get out of. 

Even simply a promise can be a locking mechanism, regardless if it’s tied to a calendar date. A character will often want to get out of a promise, but they can only blame themselves for making it in the first place. The Unbreakable Vow in Harry Potter is a particularly strong example of a promise you might lock yourself into. A contract is another type of promise that is particularly binding. Like how Ariel signed her life away to Ursula if she didn’t get Eric to kiss her within three days. Watching it, we know the agreement is ridiculous…but people still choose to make ridiculous agreements like this all the time.  

Even though I do love me some angst, I also love me some comedy, and this prompt has some great opportunities for that as well. A character might accidentally lock themselves in somewhere. Maybe a locksmith, while trying to fix a broken lock, ends up trapping themselves in the room. A character might build a maze…only to trap themselves inside it. Maybe someone locks themselves away during a party for some peace and quiet. A group of friends could ‘rescue’ their friend from a cage…only for the person locked inside to look up placidly and ask them if they want tea. 

A character like Houdini would be a great use of this prompt as well. Houdini would often lock himself up in order to break himself out and amaze his audience. You could write about all sorts of magicians, escape artists, and the like who intentionally lock themselves up to break themselves out. You could also write about a character who purposely allows themselves to be imprisoned because they know they can get out. Maybe they are planning to help their previously captured friends escape, or they want to steal something from the palace, and the best way to do that is by letting themselves get thrown in the dungeon. 

My technical challenge to you this week is a result of one of our conversations during the “Under the Monster’s Bed” stream. I challenge you to use either asyndeton or polysyndeton in your story. (Bonus points if you use both). 

Polysyndeton is when you repeat conjunctions (For, And, Nor, But, Or, Yet), like so: I think I want ice cream, or cookies, or brownies, or waffles, or cake. Your brain focuses more on the conjunctions than the actual words, so it is often used to overwhelm the reader, and/or convey a character’s excitement, and/or convey their anxiety. (Eh? See what I did there?). 

Asyndeton is the opposite, the lack of conjunctions, including where there ordinarily would be one: I like ice cream, cookies, brownies, waffles, cake. (Note, there is no “and” before that final “cake” even though there ordinarily would be). “Veni, Vidi, Vici.” (“I came, I saw, I conquered.”) is perhaps the most famous example of this device. Asyndeton often really makes you pay attention to the specific words being said, with nothing to detract from them, and/or it can create a faster pace to the sentence. (Think about if the sentence was “I came, and I saw, and I conquered.” Can you see how the “and”s make the meaning of each individual phrase pop less, as well as slow down the sentence?) 

My content challenge also comes from a stream! (The “I Wasn’t Aiming for You” stream). This prompt lends itself well to introspection, and/or a character monologuing. If you do want to write one of these types of stories, my challenge to you is to intersperse the introspection/monologue with action to capture audience attention. Instead of being stuck in a person’s head or being “talked at,” add character bits that tell us more about who they are and who they’re talking to. Bonus points if the action of the story mirrors well the introspection! You can also do this in reverse: if you plan to write a more action-heavy piece, try interspersing it with some introspection! 

Remember, these challenges aren’t mandatory! They are meant to be a fun bonus if you’d like to have a little extra challenge. But, if you don’t want to use them, please don’t feel obligated to!

You see, little hero, reality is the true prison. I let them put me in here. That key in your hand is worthless. There’s another sort of key much more difficult to procure, and a lock hidden in the furthest reaches of your mind. When you unlock that door, well, you’ll realize these metal bars are nothing. 

—Kaylie & Pearce 

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.

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Comments

143 responses to “Writing Group: I Locked Myself in Here”

  1. Fog Wall Avatar
    Fog Wall

    Making An Entrance
    ~Fog Wall

    Veivaun stood firm on a high branch of an elder tree, these trees easily stood over two hundred feet high and this one allowed for a view over the wall. The city that sprawled behind the transparent dome was incredible, brightly lit against the night sky, no stars were visible.

    It never occurred to her that they’d be able to fly. The lights were dazzling, almost hypnotizing. Signs in a foreign language were huge, standing tall over buildings or floating between the wide avenues between them. Those inside were like ants on a hill. Everywhere she looked were lines of flying lights, small things floating seamlessly as if the dome were filled with water.

    She sighed and looked up at the starless sky above. Not a sound escaped the city and the sound of wind torn branches broke the summer’s peaceful silence. No one lived near this wall. It has and will always be a cursed place. No magic dwells within’, or so the stories go. Few, if any, have been inside and come back. Legends have it that those inside are centuries ahead of us, capable of magic beyond that of even the elder gods.

    “I’ll prove them wrong. With this magic of mine.” She murmurs as she opens her hand. A ball of magma materializing from thin air. Veivaun held the ball out as it grew. Giving it all the magic, she could spare, she moved her hand from palm up to palm out and launched the orb at the glass just above the black wall.

    The magma she channeled easily melted the dome, giving her an entry point. Stepping off the branch, a disk of floating ice gripped the bottom of her boots as she crossed the gap and into the city. With each step, the ice from the previous step disappeared behind her. Once inside, she turned and conjured ice over the hole, making sure it would stay at a sub-zero temperature.

    “Now that I’m in, there’s no going back.” Sadistic laughter overtook her composure as she descended. “Let’s let the Gods decide!”

  2. koryan94 Avatar
    koryan94

    Left to My Own Devices

    I heard Ara staccato footsteps, heart pounding with excitement, I jumped from behind the corner.

    “Boo!”

    “Oh my God!” His eyes widened with a brief moment of fear.

    I held my pose and watched as he scrambled backwards and papers scattering, and Ara falling on his ass.

    “Fyke! Why do you look like a ghoul”

    “To scare you.”

    Ara sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose “I should’ve never taught you that spell.” He gathered his books and papers and regained his composure before turning back to me.

    I stared, and I stared, and I stared with a giant grin on my face tilting my neck ever so lightly and with widened eyes.

    “Stop it, you’re freaking me out Fyke.”

    “I can turn myself into anything, wanna see?!”

    “No,”

    I chanted the spell and envisioned going from a ghoul to a long sword.

    “And now I’m a sword!”

    “Why?”

    “Let’s go prank Di!” Thinking only of Di’s reaction.

    “No.”

    “Please?”

    “No.”

    “Please?”

    “No, I’ll just leave you here and go on about my day.”

    My hand touched the inside of the blade, and through the reflection of the blade I watched Ara stride away and I felt a wicked grin spread from ear to ear.

    “I’ll tell her you like her.”

    I watched him freeze and slowly turn back around, and as if in slow motion walked back to me.

    “What do you want me to do?”

    I only smiled more, eyes shining like the blade I turned myself into.

    “Alright, remember the plan?” I asked.

    “Yes, Fyke I remember, how could I forget it’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard.”

    Ara grip tightened before rushing out and attacking a dummy and shouting, “I’ll save you!”

    Di looked up from her phone, unphased, “What are you two doing?”

    “I’m a sword,” I spoke up.

    “You can turn yourself back to normal now,” Ara’s grip loosened.

    We all stared at nothing as I chanted the spell and nothing happened.

    “I can’t,”

    “What do you mean you can’t?” Di asked.

    “Spell’s not working.”

    “You’re stuck?” They asked.

    “I’m stuck” I confirmed.

  3. The other side
    By: Boople

    Bailey was disgusted that she had gotten used to the smell of this room over the past three days. When she first woke up she tried to bang and claw at the basement door, desperate to get it open, but stopped when she realized that the echoes she was making were the same that had been disturbing her sleep on and off for the past month. What had finally tipped her over the edge that night was when she swore in her tired delirium that she heard her very own voice crying out for help.

    When Bailey first opened the door her senses were assaulted with the stench of rot, she failed to find its source however, when in the darkness she saw herself pounding on the other side of an old mirror. As their eyes met the reflection’s face lit up with excitement,

    “Oh thank the stars! Bailey, please! Please help me out of here!”

    “I don’t… I don’t know how-”

    “Please just,” the reflection paused to compose herself, and simply put out her arm, as if to be rescued “Just grab my hand.”

    Bailey hesitantly began to reach out, and whether it was her tiredness, the smell, or the darkness that kept her from thinking she plunged her arm into the mirror. It felt cold when her and the reflection met, and pulling her through the mirror was paired with the sounds of scraping glass.

    The reflection of Bailey took a deep breath and looked around in wonder, staring at the ceiling in jubilation, not quite fitting for a rescue. Taking a step back to contemplate the situation, Bailey’s heel was stopped short, and turning around she finally found the source of the smell. The bloated, bloodied and rotting corpses of her family. She almost tripped over them in horror, becoming acutely aware of how sticky their blood had made the floor. Fumbling backwards she fell into a pair of cold, glassy arms.

    “Thank you Bailey, you really do have a lovely life.”

    Her teeth cracked as the reflections fist hit true, knocking her out cold.

    1. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      Spooky. I have to wonder how her reflection murdered her family while still trapped inside the mirror, but this does bring a new angle to the Dr. Jeckel and Mr. Hyde dynamic this prompt leaves a lot of room for when both can be in the room at the same time, and Hyde can physically attack Jeckel.

      1. Yea If I had started sooner I’d prolly have found a way to incorporate this, but the idea is that one by one her whole family got replaced by their reflections, and they’d die with their livelihoods stolen.

  4. He Needs His Alone Time (Chronicles of the Dragon: Caitlyn)
    By: Makokam

    Caitlyn pulled her bike up to the gate and took her helmet off.

    The train yard was all but abandoned. Every once in awhile, an engine would come through and drop some cars off, or pick them up. For the most part though, it was ignored and had fallen into disrepair. It had gained a reputation for being a place frequented by delinquent teenagers, drug dealers, and hobos.

    Jonathan enjoyed coming here. He said it was a quiet place where he could think. Once he brought her there, she had to agree. While it was still full of rusty, dangerous equipment, she hadn’t seen any sign of anyone besides Jonathan there.

    She suspected its reputation was people trying to scare kids away.

    The gate was hanging off its hinges and she squeezed through into the yard. “Jonathan! Are you here?”

    It wasn’t unusual for Jonathan to disappear for a day or two, but he usually made some sort of excuse for where he was going, and he’d never been gone this long before.

    Searching for Jonathan among the cars yielded nothing but wild animals.

    Until she noticed the closed car.

    Jonathan had told her to NEVER close the doors, because the locking bar could fall and you’d be stuck. It was hard to believe he’d have let that happen to him, but it would explain where he’d been.

    She jogged over, calling his name. There was no answer, but she figured she should open it just in case. As soon as she started to lift the bar, his voice roared from inside, “DON’T OPEN IT!”

    Relief overcoming shock, she yelled back, “Jonathan! You’re okay!” and she started opening the door again.

    “STOP!” A bang shook the car. “Don’t… open it. I… locked myself in. Okay? Don’t- Please leave.”

    Caitlyn stepped back in confusion. Then she shook her head. “No. This is dumb. You can’t stay in there.”

    He shouted for her to stop again, but she’d already lifted the bar and was opening the door.

    The impact sent her spinning to the ground. She looked up and Jonathan was gone.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Perfect writing! The bar flowed perfectly with the prompt itself. I wonder what Jonathan was doing. Why did he lock himself away? It makes the reader reeled it. I want to read MOAR! MOAR I tell you. Overall, great job.

    2. Locking oneself in as a precautionary measure. Hm. Could this be the moment before Jonathan went Monster Mode and destroyed a city?

      He knew it was coming and tried to stop it, but Caitlyn did the dumb thing and didn’t listen.

      Whoops does not cover it.

      Given the scope of the devastation, I’d say Caitlyn is lucky she survived.

    3. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      This is an interesting story from Caitlyn’s point of view. Usually we see things through the eyes of Jonathan or other superheroes. So seeing someone exploring the old empty train yard, talking about its reputation, searching among the cars and finding only wild animals. All of these things built up a sense of setting and place very well. Finally we reach the climax of the piece with her confronting Jonathan in his train car.

      At the story’s climactic ending with with the impact knocking Caitlyn to the ground is a little unclear. Did Jonathan knock her away directly? Did he explode out of the car with the force knocking her down? Did he just push on the door forcefully? I’m a little confused as to what exactly happened. I also felt it odd to describe her as “spinning” to the ground, when I got the impression she was more knocked down (or away) to the ground. So I struggled to mentally picture her spinning to the ground.

      All in all though this was a great and atmospheric story! With the empty train yard, and Jonathan’s explosive (metaphorically here) reaction to driving Caitlyn away as he flees her. I can only assume he is acting to protect her from himself.

      I did find myself curious how this fits in with the larger narratives going on around Caitlyn and her relationship with Jonathan at this point and in the future. Good story!

  5. Ethan Jesse Avatar
    Ethan Jesse

    Above the Sodden Men
    By Ethan Jesse

    To believe would disgrace the garnered self. To allow for great release would be to soothe the aching mind.

    Beyond the veil of pleasantries and behind the gathered truth, there’s only that which whispers throughout the brazen head. Inside the blissful morning and without the fear of night, the people wane and cry again, for never were ye of them. Never were ye a pauper, yet a fool to be taught, not seen. Never were they but soaked in pleasure, beyond the scattered root. Of man you lot are, yet of men you’ve become.

    Dear hatred, dear sorrow, dear modest things and pride, ye make a chore within life we lead. To survive was a cause, yet, truly, no purpose. Why, I know not, for I, too, adore the sunsets, pretty lights. I, too, am a man among men, who, despite my pained cries, am a neigh a god’s summit. Think not that I am still, stood idle in your world. Prithee, think not I lack care for your pleas. I hear them, I feel them, but something is amiss. No mistake, I am a man by blood, but I am not of the men who feign company. My friends, here me, we needn’t be apart, for we push by the same blood towards the familiar yet fleeting goal.

    To catch the sun, to gaze the void, to wield the blade, to cut away…But ye’ve caught your path, seen it through. I feel your pain, yet ye turn away. I feel vile in your presence, I ache to hear your truths. I hate to know that I am astray, apart from ye who know better. A wish to learn, but be not taught; Fickle, it may be. But I, a man, as one you could know, cannot let go in the end. Soaked we are, with taints of all worlds. And so, away I shall gaze, without ye or your truths by me. And only may I hope, in my path beyond light, that I may learn the truths and sing about that I stand above the sodden men.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Sometimes, ambiguity is an asset, sometimes, it is hindrance. Regardless of it being one or another, it could still independently be safe or dangerous.

      I have a feeling ambiguity, in this narrative, is an asset. It also skirts towards the dangerous.

      It is a very interesting tale, and you employ a very strong narrative voice for this one. As a non-native speaker, I feel like it obscures some elements a little bit – but not too much. And overall, it is a beautiful composition of words. What makes it ambiguous in my reading is not the word choice or the sentence structure, but the opinionated nature of the message itself. And that makes it very, very compelling.

      Specially considering the way it connects to the prompt.

      Walking a lonely path – this can be used in so many ways. And yet, the continues cry of wishing to learning without being taught makes me wonder a lot about who precisely might this character be, and what he is trying to say. More than that, if from this place there is anything to be said at all. But I guess there are many possible interpretations here.

      Thanks for sharing.

    2. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      It seems like you took the prompt in a very metaphorical way. I’m not sure if that’s what you meant, but I get the feeling this is about a man who’s very lonely, but keeps himself lonely because of his spite to other people. The emotion is conveyed powerfully, that and the hopelessness the man feels stuck in this loneliness. Although -and this may be because I’m not a native speaker- maybe you could’ve used more modern English to convey this? The old-style prose helps give the impression of an epic myth, though, so there’s that.

      Good job!

  6. Anton Kragh Paaskesen Avatar
    Anton Kragh Paaskesen

    Bonds of Witches

    Somehow the village still looked recognizable.

    How so I couldn’t say. But anyone who’s experienced something similar will tell you, you don’t just forget such a place. It’s always with you. Always looking. Recognizing what you’ve done.

    Traces of the sickness was still visible. It was in the faint violet hue of the ground. In the vile growths on buildings and abandoned horsecarts. And in the rot of plant life everywhere. But most obviously in graves build on the sides of the road. Some of them are empty naturally. Corpses were infected. And the ground was sick enough as is.

    “Claire”

    That voice. No. It couldn’t be… what was she doing here.

    I turned around. It was her. Eleanor. Did she follow me all the way here? To these blighted lands.

    “I finally… Pant… caught up with… pant… you” Every word sounded strained. Her normally neat hair was in tatters. How far did that fool run?

    I turned away from her. “You shouldn’t have followed me, Eleanor”.

    “Why?” Even without looking at her, the pleading was as plain as it was painful. “What is so important, that you can’t even rely on me, Claire?”

    Stupid Eleanor. She came all the way to help me. Of course, my words would be wasted. Nonetheless, I still tried to reason with her “This is beyond what a novice witch is capable of Eleanor. Let me deal with it”.

    “And you’re capable of it?” Desperation was clear in her voice. She really was serious. “How do you know, you can perform this spell alone, Claire? Are you that much more advanced than me?”

    My voice was growing harder “I know, you’re not advanced enough, so butt out!”

    “And do what? Just stand and watch as my best friend kills herself performing a spell, she isn’t capable of? Just to save her pride?”

    “This isn’t about pride!” I turned around to look at her. Fury was plain to see on my face. “I’m doing this because it’s my responsibility. And you are getting in the way. So for the last time. BUTT. OUT!”.

    Eleanor stood. Obstinant as ever. That girl was nothing if not persistent to a fault. And yet. In those shining blue eyes, a hint of something shattering was visible. And the next word was gutting. “You always say that Claire. Always trying to accomplish everything by yourself. Do you have that little faith in me?” Tears were brimming in her eyes “Am I that useless to you”.

    Too much. It was too much to look at. Why did Eleanor insist on getting involved? Did she not notice the smell of death around her? This was dangerous. This was my fault. My burden. She couldn’t be involved.

    Warmth engulfed my hand. A familiar shape was grasping it. I looked back and saw those same kind eyes gaze at me through that tear-streaked face. That same bright smile wouldn’t be deterred.

    “You don’t know me, Eleanor” my voice couldn’t muster its former strength. “My problems are not you’re concern. You don’t need to care.”

    Eleanor took my other hand. “You’re right Claire. I don’t know you, or what you’ve been through. But I want to. I care about you and want to be there for you. That is enough reason for me to help you. So please” With a single step, she closed the distance between us “Let me in”.

    The beginnings of a smile started cracking on my lips. Confound you, Eleanor. And confound me for locking you out.

    “Okay. Let us perform the spell together”

    1. Heyo.

      Just scrolling through and noticed this story isn’t eligible to be read on the Twitch stream. If that’s something you care about; you’re more than 200 words over the limit, and you don’t have a by-line.

  7. Lee Strangely Avatar
    Lee Strangely

    Edward
    by Lee Strangely

    Edward never sleeps. In fact, he has never slept. Sure, he goes unconscious once and a while, but one can hardly call that slumber.

    “Henry?” Edward groaned.

    As his eyes adjusted to the sunlight pouring through the window, the site of his cramped little apartment began to draw his attention. He had grown quite used to his gray, barren, and yet still dingy room. It was one of the few things he could really call his own… even if Henry still paid for it.

    His squinted at the colors and bits of elegant furniture that now inexplicably lined the room, “I see you’ve, redecorated…”

    He shifted around in his bed until finally sitting up… only to feel something pull his arm. Yanking away the bedsheets, a chain poked out from the framework and to a cuff holding his wrist.

    “This is not how you treat those close to you Henry… especially as close as me…”

    Edward yanked the chain.

    “What did I do? Is it about the kid? Come on! It wasn’t my fault; he shouldn’t have been out that late… It was an accident! I didn’t mean to trample the little rat- RASCAL. I didn’t intend to harm the little, rascal…”

    He turned to the window, “I can’t be held in here. You know why? Because you can’t either…”

    “You, have a life. People would wonder… Which means you can’t afford to throw away the key further than arm’s length.”

    “Can’t just call for someone to open the door for you, can’t risk them seeing… us… I know you have a way out.”

    His eyes drifted, eventually falling a mirror next to him.

    Edward jerked the chain and the bed connected to it hard, “HENRY! I will NOT be CHAINED like an ANIMAL!”

    He sulked, “I never locked you out. Never tried to bury you… Never left your side…”

    “Yes, I’ve always been there with you,” he faltered, “And yet you, are never here with me… and somehow, I’m the one called Hyde.”

    1. I really like the intensity in this one. There are many thriller or suspense stories about someone holding someone else hostage and this fits right in.

      A piece of constructive criticism I have is that it was a little difficult for me to follow who was saying what. I can’t tell if Edward was the one who trampled the kid and is being chained for his bad actions or if Henry did it and is chaining Edward for fear he would leave him.

    2. Interesting!

      Edward there does make some valid points, but sometimes desperation makes men do illogical things. For example, redecorating the apartment as I can’t figure out the point if Henry can’t leave the bed either, and if he could leave the bed, why not just leave the apartment? At first I thought it was just Henry’s room in Henry’s home, but on a second read I realized that wasn’t the case.

      I do really like the idea that Henry chained them and then chucked the key out the window like, “Well now we’re both stuck here.”.

      Curious if there was any significance to the mirror.

  8. Transcend
    By spook

    A drawing was the perfect way to experience the world. Peeking through the blinds, tool in hand and canvas before her. It was distant, safe, perfect. Could she capture that boy with his balloon, the way it shined? How about the way those leaves bunched? New page, time to draw that yellow car. Like a lemon baking on the pavement, reflective of the nurse who owned it with her wrinkles and aged skin. What was her name? It didn’t matter. New page, that man’s shirt seemed such a cheerful green. It reminded her of when-

    Oh, the boy had lost his balloon. Look how it flew away on eager gusts of wind. Why was he looking at her? Ignore that. New page. Draw the balloon in the sky. Look down. Her impression was lacking something. Missing the motion, feeling, flight, freedom. Were all of her drawings so inadequate?

    Past page. Her drawing couldn’t convey the way the man’s shirt gained magical new stains every day. How it bulged with his laughter on Sunday evenings. Past page. Where did the yellow car go every night? Did the nurse have a family? Did wind ripple the leaves? And the boy. She knew him far better than she could draw him. Where had his smile gone? Why did he no longer run, and jump, and play, and cheer, and love?

    She dropped her crayon. She peeked through the blinds again. The man was pulling the boy away. Her boy. She looked down at her drawings. How could a tool and sheet of paper capture the joy, the terror, the songs, the glory? To feel those things again she would need a much closer look. She flipped over the page.

    A drawing was not the perfect way to experience the world.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, this is very interesting.

      I love the way this narrative is structured. This is really innovative.

      I’ll start by what is more obvious – I love the parallelism between the first sentence and the last sentence. This works amazingly as an ending, and it has a lot of punch to it. It feels particularly fitting with how the last images start to be seen as heavier and convey ideas of sorrow and loss. Those two sentences, mirrored and in opposition, serve as an amazing frame for the collections of images in-between.

      and then we have that narrative thought drawings. This is very strong. It conjures a specific rhythm and it pulls the reader to a contemplative space where the images being presented can be arranged to build the story – and all the thoughts interspersed through it give each “frame” its connective tissue that makes the whole collection of images work.

      I also find it very sad in seeing the progression of mediums used. This story has lots and lots of small details that bring out a very strong impression together.

      Thanks a lot for sharing it!

  9. Scars

    By Vex

    Throughout all the years I have lived on this planet, I have seen many things. I observed triumphs, downfalls, happiness, sadness, death even. All these people, with different lives and different experiences. Observing them I noticed a pattern. It was in the subtext of their speech. A hesitancy to speak, a masking of their words, everyone in their own way was wearing scars over their lips. The only exception to this was the children.

    Children I find have little scarring. You may call it innocence, or naivete, or artlessness. I, however, would call it their nature. While observing these differences, I have begun to find the same scars upon my own lips. Little nicks, cracks, and piercings. Not just on my lips, I found them all over, in my back, shoulders, eyes, just to name a few. Looking in the mirror, I found a new image, one of a child’s worn-out doll. As much as I tried to remove the scars, my body refused to heal. I do not know the source of them; I am too afraid to remember. Logic is telling me that these scars are relics to heal, unnatural things made to fade away. My body remembers, and whenever I try to speak or move through them, I end up frozen. A puppet tugging against its strings.

    That was the case until today. I finally managed to speak through my scars, and I regretted it almost immediately. Those around me looked with a glare I instinctively feared. I felt like a child, young, and untouched. I was laid bare for the world to see, to judge, to criticize, to hate. Nausea threw me off balance, infernal heat blazing in my mind, crushing me, churning my vision until all I saw was their foreboding eyes. I had to escape, I had to leave that pain, that insufferable belittlement behind. So. I picked up a knife, and made myself some scars.

    1. This doesn’t exactly follow the prompt, but I hope you found it enjoyable!

      1. Shinigamma Avatar
        Shinigamma

        Not necessarily, I can see how it would relate to the prompt. I interpreted as adults locking themselves behind facades to project a certain image. Children, who have no or little of those pretensions, speak more freely, which is why they have few of those “scars” as you put it. I’m guessing “scars” is a metaphor for holding one’s tongue. Holding your peace, even when you’d rather speak, can create a wound that feels almost physical, which seems to be the story’s message.

        As you can see, I’m having a lot of fun intepreting this story. Not sure if I’m right or wrong, but I love the parable nature of this piece. Very much enjoyed it, thank you!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, it follows the prompt to a t, in my eyes. And is a very enjoyable story. A really appreciate the message.

      I like the use of scar imagery here – it is more subtle and poetic than other things that could be used to convey the idea of being restrained, but those would focus on the act of being restrained, not the past pains. Scars hold a lot more significance here.

      This was very interesting. Not an easy tale to comment though, but I really appreciated it. thanks for sharing!

  10. MasaCur Avatar
    MasaCur

    Tiger in a Cage (Bureau of Public Safety setting)
    By MasaCur

    “The prisoner has arrived, Warden.”

    Waden Sinclair looked up to Watson, a senior guard at the prison. “Thank you, Watson.” Sinclair stood up, straightened out his jacket, adjusted his tie, and took a deep breath. He was about to meet the most notorious prisoner Newgate would likely ever see.

    Down in the admitting bay, a cage had unloaded from a transport wagon. Inside, manacled and chained, a middle aged man sat, his thick grey handlebar moustache making it clear to Sinclair who he was dealing with.

    “Dr. Van Nilsson,” Sinclair greeted. “I understand you can speak English? Correct?”

    Van Nilsson smiled, a predatory sort of smile that unnerved Sinclair. “Yes, of course. You must be Warden Sinclair.”

    “You will be staying here with us in Newgate Prison during your trial for crimes of treason against the Crown. As I understand it, the evidence against you is overwhelming. And once you are found guilty, you shall stay here until your day of execution, where you shall be hanged by the neck.”

    If mention of Van Nilsson’s fate was meant to wipe his smile away, Sinclair’s efforts failed miserably. The manic grin widened. “Is that so, Sinclair?” He lurched forward toward the bars, causing Sinclair to back away. He came short as the chains holding him to his seat were pulled taut. “Did it not occur to you that I was captured a little too easily? And now, I’m in the very symbol of law and order in the whole of the British Empire. Your prison, and the Old Bailey attached to it.”

    Sinclair looked at Van Nilsson, and swallowed nervously. “I want him out of this cage and in his cell in five minutes, Watson.”

    “Aye,Warden,” Watson replied. He summoned a few other guards to him, and one had unlocked the cage, while another hooked a catchpole onto the manacle around Van Nilsson’s neck.

    “Warden, I must thank you for your hospitality,” Van Nilsson said, as he was released from the anchor within the cage. “I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store for you.”

    1. It give the impression of a snip-it of a wider story. Its very ominous, and i like how spooky Mr. Van Nilsson is. He gives me penguin vibes from batman, and honestly, i just vividly imagined this scene taking place between The penguin and Robbin. I look forward to more of your writings!

  11. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    Through a glass, darkly
    by Aracnarquista

    There is a whole world out of here. A world with people, events, sunlight, fresh air. The sound of children laughing in parks, the songs of birds chirping on trees. The smell of freshly cut grass, the aroma of petrichor after the rain. Simple feelings and complex arrangements making a whole world out of here, to be experienced.

    But there is also a whole world just in here. Sometimes, this inside world feels more present, complex and vast than any world outside. Everything that is happening, is happening here. Every important news, and every small and inconsequential occurrence. Here, I have everything to keep me informed, and anything to keep me distracted.

    In the palm of my hand, this small window contains the world – a whole world of shortened distances and compressed time that curtains me from the world of proximity and presence just beyond it.

    I unlock the screen and lock myself from the lesser world. The one behind the glass is more to my liking. Eyes on the screen, it is clear I’m not available – or interested – in anything happening nearby. If you want, you can always send me a message. It will find me, on my own terms. My own world.

    My own cell.

    We are condemned to inhabit the worlds in which we are born. I am, however, condemned to inhabit this world of my own choosing. I was sentenced to its attention-trapping design by my own rule. I don’t really like it here. But I won’t escape. I doomscroll. I watch false lives, false people, false promises – all selling me false happiness. I connect with friends I never knew and will never know. I connect with friends who will never be my friends.

    I willingly give the screen what it demands and captures: my undivided attention. I pay the entrance fee for the addictive world of lies and cheap emotions by freely sacrificing my time.

    Again, I perform the gestures and trace the rite in holy observance. That world welcomes me. I unlock the screen, and lock myself from the outside world. Again. And Again.

    1. So, this hits real close to home. Until I bothered to *honestly* check my time spent on Facebook and Twitter (long before X was owned by the great EM), I believed I only spent approximately 4 hours a day on my phone. Pha…18 hours. 18. HOURS. It took me quite a while after that to extricate myself from those platforms, and now I use my phone more for YouTube and Audible than any other purpose.

      Yet. Thinking about it…I’m probably still spending too much time on “this small window…a whole world of shortened distances and compressed time…”

      So maybe I didn’t learn my lesson at all. But I greatly enjoyed reading this, and thank you for bringing back into the light a problem far too many people I know suffer from, including, it would seem, myself even now.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Sooth.

        To be honest, I had a very different concept in mind for this week, but I couldn’t really work in it due to being a bit under the bad weather. This one I felt easier to write and so it went.

        I known this problem very well, and the prompt was way too fitting not to try something in these lines. All that was needed them was to choose the right language for it – I’m a bit torn in having used both religious imagery and habit imagery – maybe I should have decided on one or the other -, but it seems to have worked.

        Thanks a lot for the feedback and comment!

    2. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This is too relatable. This addiction, knowing that it’s bad for you, knowing everything about the consequenses, and yet continuing to indulge in it anyway, that feeling was captured beautifuly here.

      My only cretique, and this may be just because of the word limit, is that the main character doesn’t seem to have a real reason to spend in that digital world. He descrives the real world with “songs of birds” and “freshly cut grass”. I think if you described it more negatively, it would make his addiction have more twisted reasonjng behind it. Anyway, really relatable story.

      Good job!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Strong Berry.

        I’m glad to know you liked the story. I won’t say I’m glad knowing people find it relatable, since, well, that is the problem, isn’t it? Lots and lots of people spend more and more time “connected”…

        I think I can answer the bit of criticism. It was, indeed, a choice I made not to justify the character’s addiction. The reason is threefold – first, I’d like to make a contrast with the beginning, showing that the character enjoys the “afk” world, but is having trouble relating to it (except when mediated by the internet); second, I’d like the narrator to be as blank a slate as possible, so that any reader could project their own experiences in it; and lastly, I wanted to emphasize that the addictive behavior of those platforms is a design feature of them – they work by grabbing our attention and feeding our reward senses to a point of leaving them inured to other kinds of stimula. So I’d prefer to leave the impressions of the afk world as they are (the narrator knows its joys, they just can’t relate to anymore – his ¨fix” know is only possible through the screen). But I understand this approach will not be everyone’s cup of tea.

        Thanks a lot for the feedback and comment!

    3. Inferna Avatar
      Inferna

      A lot of the points I have with this one are shared by sooth, and a lot of other people as well. I don’t really have much to say other than that the story is very well written and the message it’s trying to convey is relatable to a ton of other people!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks for the comment, Inferna!

        Always good to know when the story resonates, and even better to know you liked it.

  12. Inferna Avatar
    Inferna

    The Intruder

    By: Inferna

    I don’t feel safe in my own home anymore. I have been chosen as the Beasts next victim, I know it. I just don’t know when it will take me.

    I hear footsteps when I’m alone, voices in my ear, and even recently, I woke up with a freshly bleeding Mark on my forehead. It almost looked like a Brain, but it was muddled by all the Blood. It didn’t hurt until I noticed it in the mirror.

    Someone’s at the door now. I feel their footsteps touching the ground outside, and their heavy breathing condensates on the windows near the door. I felt a fear I’ve never felt before. It chose to stalk me for months, torture my mind, make me paranoid. Is it ready to take me now? Or is it just softening me up and breaking my mind even more?

    I don’t even remember the rush heading upstairs to my Bedroom. The door has a lock, but it wont hold forever. I clutch the knife in my hand so hard, the sweat is turning black from the color of the handle.

    The front door is broken, I know it. The sound of broken Wood and the clanging metal of a broken lock and hinge is unmistakable, especially when combined with the heavy footsteps of the Beast.

    I want to put something in front of the door, but it’ll be too loud, the fear is nearly paralyzing. The footsteps are getting closer now, just outside my door. My breathing is getting louder, even after trying to cover it up. Its breathing is getting louder too, closer. it begins to knock on the door.

    The door doesn’t open thanks to the lock, the beast walks away, and the pain is beginning to fade away. I take some deep breaths and close my eyes in relief. I open them and freeze.

    The Window is open, and I feel the warm breath on my back.

    I feel a hand on my neck.

    1. The One, The Only Avatar
      The One, The Only

      Yo this was super cool! You really built up tension very well and I was super invested by the time it got to the end. The twist of thinking they were only for their to be another entrance was very fun.

      Did you mean to have the capitalization where you did? Honestly, it felt a little strange at first but even if you didn’t intend it I think it actually added to the tension, it made the whole piece feel disjointed in a strange way I wouldn’t have considered doing before. It’s a really interesting way to play with form!

      If I had any critique it would be that the references to the mark seem a little out of place and kind of break up the flow, at least for me personally. The initial mention of appearing out of nowhere is great but I think for a story this short you sometimes have to cut out extraneous details like that. I wouldn’t change anything else though!

      You said on discord this was your first short story right? This is an awesome showing for a first outing! Keep it up dude 🙂

      1. Inferna Avatar
        Inferna

        thank you for the review! i had a feeling the mark would be a bit pointless lol, i only wanted to have it for the rising tension, but i felt like it added too much. as for the capitalization, i actually will fix that soon. that was on me for thinking i have to capitalize EVERY noun, but it was only for proper ones. otherwise, thanks a ton! this means a lot!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Very interesting tale, Inferna.

      There are some elements of the progression here that are really well made – all the time we spend in this reading, the tension is building up, until its eventual release at the end. The fast pace of the narrative helps put us in the shoes of the protagonists and his rushing thoughts on how to protect themselves and their dealings with their concerns.

      There is something I find interesting in reading the other comment – although the capitalized words were somewhat of an accident, they have an interesting effect when we read the story. There is a lot here that is quite cryptic and never explained, and the capitalizations help in elevating the mystery to either a grand secret we are not privy to, or a complete and organized delirium of the protagonist.

      To my taste, the story could have a little more context for us to care a little bit more – and even for us to be even more taken by the sense of anxiety that it builds. Perhaps some more information on what the protagonist thinks of the Beast – how they known of it, and what it knows of it, could help in selling the fear even more than the mystery. But that’s a matter of stylistic choice.

      Thanks for sharing.

  13. The Missing Link Avatar
    The Missing Link

    Doppelganger
    By: The Missing Link

    Hot breath coats my helmet’s visor as warning lights flare. The hull is breached. I try to hide my limp as the remaining crew trample each other in a rush to the escape pods, but I’m falling behind.

    I feel a hand clamp around my good leg, sending me to the deck faster than my mag boots can recover as the pod bay erupts in a burst of flame before vacuum consumes it.

    I thrash at the hand and look back to see the captain’s trampled body attached to it. He looks in my eyes, all of the warmth of our first meeting gone, only a smoldering hate losing the fuel to burn.

    The grip slackens, and I’m alone in the ship. No, not alone, I’d have preferred that. It… that thing from the planet below is still here, and it’s my fault. I should have known a piece of it had stowed away on my craft. They should hate me.

    But it ends here.

    Back on the planet, it shrank away from fire. I cling to the hope that means what I think it does, that there’s a chance, that it can be killed.

    The lights shut out. My hands fumble to turn on my helmet’s flashlight as I limp over to the control panel. I break open the power box with a fist, relying on the power left in my mag boots to keep me out of the vacuum. I cut the wires, praying there’s no sudden surge. Nothing.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I see it forming, reaching out and grabbing bit of human to graft onto its amorphous form as lifeless bodies swayed in the air around it, rooted like seaweed in the current by their mag boots.

    There’s no time.

    It coalesces into a human shape, features forming and deforming across its face as it glides slowly towards me.

    I open the power supply on one of my mag boots and connect it just long enough to activate the self-destruct sequence.

    It’s last face before the bombs go off is my own.

    1. Inferna Avatar
      Inferna

      This is really good! I feel like this is inspired by Among Us, but it’s done in a really interesting way

    2. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      You took the idea of licking yourself in to protect yourself, and the threat presented here is something intimidating indeed, a classic shapeshifter alien. The final line is shocking, it’s a lose-lose, and that’s what makes it even more horrifying.

      Good job!

    3. koryan94 Avatar
      koryan94

      This piece kept me on the edge wanting to keep reading more and makes me wonder how they got there. I would like a little more descriptions of the alien? Beast? And make it more unsettling given the word count for the prompt the amount you have is fine, but if you develop the story further I would like to see more unsettling characteristics of the monster.

  14. A Second Life
    by Sooth

    Jordan throws a ball against a house. Static noise.
    “When I was five years old, I remained undefined. Open to anything, willing to learn whatever was put in front of me.”

    A lean, shirtless Jordan throws a basketball into a net, rides a bus packed with other lean teens, kisses a girl. Static hisses.
    “As a teenager, I leaned into…physical…activities. Basketball. Romance.”

    Wearing glasses, a smiling Jordan pours a neon blue liquid into a vial. Static hisses.
    “I went to college. Learned how to think critically. Learned to master a part of the world. I chose science. Who would have thought a jock would wantonly spread into physics instead of phys ed, huh?”

    Hovering over a clearly incapacitated person on a long table, Jordan, wearing a clean white overcoat and a medical mask, makes incisions along printed dotted lines on a patient’s head. Static.
    “Yeah, we fundamentally changed the world. Cybernetics via my splash nodes made weaving intricate wiring between biotech and biology possible. The first person who went from blind to being able to see thanks to my tech was grateful that I, specifically, went into the biotech field. Ended up funding much of my future research.”

    Static.

    Silence.

    Jordan wears a simple beige jacket and pants, walking down a sidewalk. A man with a gun walks up. Jordan begs to just take his wallet, or his watch, or his whatever, but please don’t do this. The gun goes off. Static noise.
    “Right, right. The plan was preset. If anything happened to me, ever, put me in stasis. The math says I can’t be downloaded into a body for at least five years. I must accept the original death, know that death happened, and move past it first. I’ve done that. It’s been ten years. Why won’t you let me out?”

    Silence.

    Static.

    Jordan reads over some papers. Signs several of them. Static.
    “I don’t understand. That’s just me signing the agreement to be uploaded to…”

    Jordan’s body slides onto one of his famous tables. Static.
    “Wait…I’m already out there? You’re saying I did this to myself?”

    1. Reidrev Avatar
      Reidrev

      Hoooooo I love this.
      So first thing first: The static, the way you use it like punctuation and a transition method is very good, very cinematic in a way! I thought at first that you’d try to personify the statics noise (especially with the “hisses”) but I’m kinda glad it wasn’t the case.

      The story is very very fun, I feel like I travelled to the future, beginning with something akin to a 90′ sitcom with the jock attitude. Then quickly we go to anticipation when we learn that he “just” developed a way for biotechnology to work and then full sci-fi with the ending twist.

      One thing that hooked me on your story was the simple word: “Undefined”. It feels very inhumane, very robotic, like talking about a blurry picture. It’s not that he didn’t know what he’ll do, he was just undefined. With the following paragraph keeping us in the 90’s era, using a word like undefined gives us a sense of wrongness that is SPOT ON.

      The next thing I like is the assassination, “Please don’t do this” a quiet reveal of what is to come. It feels like Jordan is trying to spectate the event of his life but the limit between the watcher and the watched blur at the time of death which is, once again, spot on.

      Now the reveal, very philosophical, the way the “soul” was divided, or maybe the original soul stayed behind. It’s a type of twist you don’t expect in sci-fi setting which makes it all the more efficient.

      Tiny bitty problems tho, really nothing that matters but that I still noticed :

      – We get a sense that Jordan is quite full of himself. Thus, even for narrating the event it feels weird that he would describe himself begging.

      – Biotechnology is, by definition, compatible with biology so it shouldn’t need any type of intricate weaving to work with biological matter or else it’s not biotechnology.

      – “Why won’t you let me out” He seems like he’s talking to someone and afterwards it feels as if someone else were giving him the events to watch. It’s a bit jarring… wish it was introduced more naturally I think. Especially with how proud Jordan is, if someone else has been showing him the same events over and over again it feels weird that Jordan would be so enthusiastic in his descriptions.

      In any case, WHAT A STORY^^ I love it and the twist and the narration and the statics !

      1. I’m not gonna lie, I’m proud of this piece. Happy to see there are a few things to look at in the future in regards to science fiction and how exact I should attempt to be with “prove-able fact”, so thank you for that.

        But also thank you for enjoying the story and the statics.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, I love the premise and the register you chose to work this one.

      At first, I found the static breaks and the somewhat “slide-show” interspersed with inner narration a curious stylistic choice. I am still on the fence on how I feel about it after getting to the end and seeing what it conveys and how the register eventually changes with the realization, but I can’t argue that it works. Feels a little “cinematic”, which usually is not something I particularly appreciate in writing, but that’s a matter of taste and style. And it does work very well for this one. It grabs our attention right at the beginning, it uses the limited words in a clever way to keep the plot going, and it is beautifully wrapped up in the ending.

      And I’m also a sucker for this kind of stories, so I’m very glad to have read this one.

      I really like the use of the prompt in this one. In fact, I’d say there are two uses of it, and I like both of them. One if more obvious, the one presented in the revelation at the last line. But there is also the whole discussion on the choices Jordan made during his life, that shaped the future he was about to walk through. This one is also a very poetic use of the prompt, and one I appreciate very much.

      Thanks for sharing!

      1. I’m so glad you enjoyed the story. I admit, this is a strange vehicle for a story, but I agree that in this instance it worked out. I’m not entirely sure what is meant by “cinematic,” as that doesn’t come to mind for me upon re-reading it. Perhaps we can discuss that sometime. Thank you for reading!

  15. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “A Job I Could Handle” (Shadows of the Stellar Age Setting)

    By: Arith_Winterfell

    I quietly shut and electronically seal the heavy steel door. How had I gotten myself into this one! I shake my head. I probably shouldn’t have taken this job in the first place. I stare at the glittering piece of tech. A prototype of a new computer architecture. The last treasure of the destroyed colony, Outpost Beta-9.

    A low growling emanates from the other side of the sealed door. “Biiiitttcchh,” it breathes, “where are you?”

    I shudder at the thought of that thing. All that remained of some poor colonist, their half-rotted corpse reanimated by alien fungus. Skull half exposed, as glittering filaments slid about under their skin, and it shambled through the corridors. I thought I knew what I had been getting myself into when I’d accepted the job. But . . . running into them. Seeing them. Smelling them. That damp moldy smell, the translucent slime clinging to their skin. This was all so wrong.

    I hear disgusting huffing from behind the door. Quick heavy breathing. Like some manner of excited pervert hunting me. My own thoughts are making this worse. A low growl again, then the hard crash of the thing slamming into the heavy steel door.

    I have got to find a way out of here! I can’t end up like them! I begin visually searching the room I’m in. Large computer screens showing scenes throughout the complex. Numerous figures lurching through the darkened halls. Some of those halls even blocked by large fungal masses holding half submerged figures in cloudy slime. I’m in a safe room. These are all consoles to various systems. Looks like the power core melted down some time ago, so there is only the longer lasting backup power still running through the base. Strange, someone had turned off the automatic defenses. Who would do that during an outbreak? It doesn’t matter. It looks like it still works! I activate the autonomous combat drones and watch the spider-like forms begin patrolling the halls. They should be able to kill these things, but will it be in time.

    1. So I’m prone to a good zombie/monster story, and this hit all the itches. You created the atmosphere and tone so well, and I even love the “Biiiitttcchh,” dialogue from the creature. Great verb usage too, “shudder,” “disgusting huffing,” and “slamming,” all of these worked well to keep the action moving. Well done!

    2. This was a really tense piece. You did a good job capturing the feeling of being trapped with a monster in a room you can’t escape from. Writing the story in the present tense makes the moment feel a lot more immediate. A really interesting stylistic choice.

      The descriptions were really evocative too and helped me feel like I was right there in the moment. A really spooky tale, with a really interesting cliff hanger ending.

      Well done!

    3. Plot twist, they’re already infected and have to shut down the automated defenses if they want to live. Do they hit the kill switch, or do they sacrifice themselves for the greater good?

      I love a good sci-fi zombie story and this is one of the better ones.

      …though they might be better off throwing the station into a star if the core’s melted down. That has to be WORSE than zombies.

    4. This is certainly an interesting story. I’m curious about why these zombies have such … “concious” aggression to call him a bitch, as well as why the drones weren’t dispatched long ago. Was this done intentionally, or will the drones in fact not be enough?

      The more I think about this the more deliberate the whole situation feels.

      There is one criticism I have, and it’s that I feel the internal dialog bits like, “I have to get out of here”, don’t really add anything to the story.

      I’d be very interested to read more about them escaping and maybe uncovering a conspiracy. Or just a cathartic nuking from orbit.

  16. bobthepotato author Avatar
    bobthepotato author

    The water pounded on my windshield, the thunder rolled over the dark sky, the flashing lights from the lightning made it even harder to drive. As I pulled into the rock-scattered driveway I hopped out of the car and put on my cop flashlight to see through the pounding rain.

    I kicked down the door and walked in I reached to turn on the light but it didn’t work. Making my small flashlight work, I squinted around, looking for evidence in the mentally ill serial killer’s house. I then smelt rotting bodies, I followed the smell and ended up looking at a door at the end of a long hallway.

    I twisted the door handle and to my surprise, it was unlocked. So I walked in. There was a long rickety wooden staircase I slowly walked down the creaking staircase with my gun in my hand. Once I was halfway down the stairs I heard the door swing close by itself, I panted and sprinted up the stairs. When I got back to the door I turned the handle back and forth but it didn’t budge. “Goddamit I locked myself in the basement of a serial killer’s house, with a bunch of dead people with no backup,” I yelled, then I started patting myself down. Then I remembered I forgot my radio in the car. “Goddamit,” I screamed and pounded on the door. Then I heard the front door open, and I heard “Who’s that pounding on the door to the basement.” My heart skipped ten beats. I got to the bottom of the stairs and stood with my gun pointed at the door. Then the door opened after what felt like a century,

    A man with a mask that what black with gray, and he was wearing all black with a bloody axe in his hand. I pulled the trigger but it didn’t fire. Then I remembered I forgot to load my gun and my amo was in the car. He inched down the stairs with his axe over his head. When he reached me I tried to run but my feet were glued to the ground he swung the axe like it was a magnet to my head.

  17. Reidrev Avatar
    Reidrev

    Reading fireside

    By Reidrev

    TW: Misgendering

    Morgan’s hiding place wasn’t impressive by any means. It was a tiny room packed to the ceiling with books, a dangerously large fireplace, and a heavy wooden door with a heavier iron key.

    Morgan was sitting fireside covered in sweat, frenziedly reading a book with yellowed and wavy pages. It was about the sea and all the things that could be found in it. The young boy loved that book. He dreamt of sailing on the sea with his own boat and crew, made exclusively of friends and absolutely no bullies or parents. Of course, he didn’t have any friends, but he believed he would find some; the sea is vast, after all, much bigger than this minuscule floating island.

    He added another piece of wood to the fire. Another droplet fell upon the paper, this one wasn’t sweat.

    The boy didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want bullies, school, training, parents, mages; all sources of suffering, all monsters. Morgan was now bawling. The heavy iron lock, the door; those things he made a point of closing every single time. He knew all of them were useless. His parents could teleport in, and that would be it. They could choose to destroy everything in this room, and Morgan wouldn’t be able to lift a finger.

    They would never say it was out of spite, Morgan knew that. They didn’t like considering him worthy of having feelings. They would shout, “Those works are outdated”, “the room is inconvenient”, “those books only speak of the world below.” They would say that, and they’d destroy everything Morgan held dear: the fireside and the lock and the books and the room.

    A terrifying sound, like thunder whispering, echoed between the narrow walls of the room. A complicated sigil of light appeared on the floor, snuffing out the fire. As if emerging from a pool of black water, a tall, spidery woman with a calm, knowing smile stood from the sigil.

    “There you are, Juliet. Time for training.”

    1. This is a heartbreaking one. The image of the child who only wants to read books and explore their dreams being harassed both in and out of their family tugs at the heartstrings.

      I wonder how the misgendering conflict could be connected to the book reading/imagination conflict? It’s clearly just another way Morgan’s parents harass them / ignore their desires, and that’s probably enough of a connection. I still feel like there could be something more. Maybe a highlight on the irony of Morgan’s parents deriding “out of date” books while presumably holding “out of date” views on gender themselves?

      1. Reidrev Avatar
        Reidrev

        Thanks ^^ Glad you liked it !
        The misgendering conflict is less tied to the books as it is to Morgan himself. He is trapped, even in his own skin. Which is important for the rest of the story but, for this moment alone, it is true that it doesn’t really add anything.
        I’ll think about that next time ^^

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I was not expecting that.

      This is very interesting. I really love the descriptions, and the very feeling of trying to holding to something that is important to oneself, but is just being dismissed by others. This is really well told here. I particularly love the idea of the ship crewed only with friends – though Morgan would have to find those, since by now, he does not have any. Still, the sea is vast. This is such a beautiful way of putting it. Very sad, but beautiful. Hopeful, but aching and hurting all the same.

      And we start getting hints at Morgan’s childhood and all that entails. I am quite surprised by all elements present here, in fact. This was an amazing short story. Very powerful, and very well build. Thanks for sharing, Reidrev!

  18. katerina Avatar
    katerina

    All in My Head
    by katerina/kapitan kat/wow_i_exist

    It’s an odd case of finding comfort in isolation. Not specifically physically seeing as as little as it is, I do go out, and have fun. I have fun.

    It’s simply a case of holding back, of locking away the unpleasant thoughts and feelings I get every now and then. It’s for the best really, because I know what would happen next. I would spiral and who knows how long it’ll take for me to break out of it, if at all. Worst case scenario, people get hurt. I don’t want people to get hurt.

    It’s for the best. For everyone.

    I’m not entirely sure if it’s best for me, but it’s what I want. I want the best. And holding everything back is for the best.

    And I’m alright anyway. No one is hurt, and I’m fine. Totally, really fine.

    I’m not naive. I know that in some cases this is not in my best interest; I know that I’m repressing my thoughts and emotions, but you are wrong to think that. I let myself express myself. It’s just that sometimes I can’t – force of habit, I suppose. I don’t know how. Not anymore, if I ever even did know. I probably never will.

    But that’s for the best.

    And it’s not like anyone else knows. Nor will they know.

    Do I wish they knew? Sometimes. But what they don’t know can’t hurt them. And they’re already hurting. The only thing I can do is be there for them. Not venting out my problems, or drowning in self-pity because they don’t need that. They don’t deserve that. They need me to be there. To be good. A good friend, a good daughter. Repressing, isolating, holding back, but there. I’m here. Right here. Just here.

    Not going anywhere.

    And I’m happy. I really am. Those few, but oh so precious moments when we are happy. Unburdenly, unconditionally happy.

    Those are the moments I fight for. The moments all those others of isolation and repression become worth it.

    The only thing I pray for is that they can keep being worth it. Sometimes I get scared. Very very scared. I get scared. Sometimes…those happy moments do not come. Or sometimes not worth the pain. They’re not enough.

    I want them to be enough. I need them to be enough.

    Why can’t they be?

    And it hurts. The lump in my throat hurts. The insignificant moments of repression and loneliness I have locked away in my own prison cell that is myself burst through the door and there’s nowhere to go.

    But no one needs to know.

    I can handle it.

    I can be good.

    It’s for the best.

    1. this piece of writing really shows the questions one asks themselves when they’re in constant dread and confusion when they do not know what they feel but just have complete realization, to not burden other people with their feelings, the message was quite strong, i liked it a lot, tho i would suggest to maybe experiment with different writing patterns, apart from that it was very expressive.

      1. katerina Avatar
        katerina

        thank you for your feedback! I’ll take your comment in deep consideration :)) ty again !

    2. Inferna Avatar
      Inferna

      This was very well written, and the message and ideas it’s trying to give off come out really well! i’m not good at writing reviews lol, but i really don’t have any recommendations or anything 🙂

      1. katerina Avatar
        katerina

        hiiiiii :)) im so sorry for replying so late after you posted but thank you so much for your feedback <33 it really means the world to me so thank you for your review. hope you have a good day and thank you again <33

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, I love this one. Hits a bit too close to home for comfort, but I do love this one.

      The repetition of the mantra “It’s for the best” is incredibly ominous and paints all the colors we need. I also really liked how the reasoning is quite solid. I think sometimes when trying to convey a message, we simplify some of the feelings and thoughts for it to be easier to be understood. Here, it is all understandable in its complexity – the situation is this one, the narrator is concerned with keeping things under control, and they know this is not always for its own benefit. But, even them, that’s for the best – not an ideal best, but the best outcome possible in a bad deal. And they are dealing with it the best they can for now.

      The part about the fear that the small moments of happiness keep coming and keep being worth it really is what hits me the hardest. I know that fear, and that’s probably one of the worst things about being desinvested in life.

      Thanks a lot for sharing this piece.

      1. katerina Avatar
        katerina

        thank you so much for your feedback <33 this piece of work actually took a lot, if not everything, from myself, so it really means a lot that you understood my reasoning and thought process. hope you have a good day and thank you again <33

  19. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
    ThatWeirdFish

    Adjustment Period
    By ThatWeirdFish, edited by Specter

    Agent Hawthorn ran a hand through his dusty blond hair with a sigh. His training with E.N.T. has prepared him for many things far beyond the norm. But dealing with a broody teenage cambion currently locked in the janitorial closet of the dorms was… surprisingly not one of them.

    “Jones… why?” He asked wearily.

    “It’s Ty.” The eye-roll was thinly veiled in Jones’ tone. There was the unmistakable thunk of an irritated tail swatting against the metal door.

    “Your probation just lifted yesterday.” Hawthorn continued. “I can only bargain for grace for so long if you keep acting out like this. Let alone Captain Pike.”

    “What else am I supposed to DO?” Ty snapped. “Sit around until I get called to be the lab’s demonic guinea pig? It’s boring as hell, man!”

    “Language.”

    “Yeah yeah.”

    “I understand your frustration.” Hawthorn paused, hoping Ty was listening and not currently melting tools together. “I was enlisted when I was sixteen as well, and the waiting period to be approved for training is long but trust me that acting out will only delay their decision further.”

    “What decision?” Ty scoffed. “I’m a menace to society they want to lock away.” He said mockingly.

    “I don’t believe that. Your… living situation painted you in a poor light.”

    “Keep my dad out of this.” Yellow eyes flashed from the shadows within the closet.

    “Fine.” Hawthorn said after a tense pause. “This doesn’t change the facts. Your current behavior reinforces their conviction that you are a ‘menace to society,’ as you put it. I can’t change your mind, but I will ask you to consider the consequences of your choice to continue acting out.”

    After a few heartbeats, an exasperated hiss echoed from behind the door. “I’m stuck.”

    Hawthorn blinked at the unexpected answer. “What?”

    “I was getting more dryer sheets and the door closed on me.” Ty shifted his weight as he stalled. “Okay, fine. I was stealing rubber bands too.”

    “Really?”

    “Honest Abe over here.”

    “I will be back in five minutes with the key.”

    “Hey!”

    “Five. Minutes.”

    1. This was interesting. I enjoyed very much. The dryer sheets gave me an unexpected giggle. Nice touch..

  20. Shinigamma Avatar
    Shinigamma

    Trouble at the Zoo
    by Shinigamma

    Ross and Weddell were the newest employees at London Zoo. Which meant they got all the shit jobs.

    “This doesn’t half stink!” moaned Ross, shovelling another load of elephant dung into the wheelbarrow.

    Weddell took out a handkerchief and wiped his brow.

    “I don’t care what Harp says,” he grumbled, referring to their no-nonsense supervisor, “I’m takin’ a breather!”

    “Well said!” cried Ross, throwing down his shovel, “Nice five-minute break. Hopefully, nothing disturbs us.”

    As if on cue, a terrible shriek erupted from the neighbouring enclosure.

    “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

    Ross and Weddell looked at each other, then hurriedly released each other’s quivering bodies.

    “Someone’s in trouble!” cried Weddell, sprinting off before Ross could stop him.

    The two raced around the corner to a set of solid iron doors. Both employees squinted at a rusted sign hanging on the wall, managing to make out just one word:

    Bears.

    “SO! MANY! OF THEM!” came the shrill voice yet again.

    “We must do something!” said Weddell. He grabbed the door handles and pulled madly at them.

    “Are you insane?!” yelled Ross, “There’s bears behind there!”

    “I CAN’T BREATHE!!!” screamed the voice.

    “Doors are locked,” said Weddell. He turned around, “We can’t just do nothing!”

    “I agree,” said Ross, “What we should do is retreat to a safe distance, inform our supervisor, then- WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

    While Ross had been talking, Weddell had gone back round the corner, grabbed the wheelbarrow full of elephant dung, and begun a headlong charge towards the sealed doors. Ross didn’t have time to get out of the way.

    CRASH!

    Men, manure, and wheelbarrow tumbled through the doors, and at the feet of a very bemused little girl.

    Oh, and several fluffy panda cubs.

    “What the hell is going on here?” came the stern voice of Harp the supervisor. He glared at the two hapless employees, hands on hips. He then turned to the girl.

    “Stella, what did I say about locking yourself in with the baby animals?” he scolded.

    “Sorry Dad,” said the girl without a hint of regret, “But these panda cubs… they’re just SO CUTE!!!”

    1. Who wouldn’t want to be locked up with cute panda. Very much enjoyed this piece.

    2. Loved the pun in sentence 1, and, i honestly thought it was going to be a much more gruesome tale then the one i was blessed with. I would honestly buy this if it where a book, Ross and Weddell just getting into the most ridiculously scenarios. Its a good straight man, goofball duo!

    3. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This is the cutest take on the prompt I’ve seen so far, and that’s a real challenge to make with a prompt that inspires isolation and necessary protection. And that’s despite the fact the girl was suffocating in there with the panda cubs. You’ve achieved a very cute life threatening situation.

      Good job!

    4. Lol! This was amazing. I think one of the strongest aspect is the pun in the first paragraph because that gives the reader a pretty good idea of what they’re getting into.

      The dialogue between these two was delightful to read and you get a good sense of who they both are throughout the piece. This came across very cartoonish/sitcom-like and I would very much watch this show.

      I had a feeling the payoff wouldn’t be as horrific as Weddell and Ross would have believed but even so, this was still a very fun read.

      Thanks for sharing!

  21. Chaz Jazzman Avatar
    Chaz Jazzman

    The Mole-Faced Man
    By Chaz Jazzman

    A week ago I checked myself into the mental institute. I checked myself in after I realized I was insane. At first, it was just hallucinations, they started after the incident as I call it, after I was struck over the head with a hammer by the man trying to kidnap me, but I managed to evade them, I evaded the man with the giant mole on his cheek. But after that, I started to see disturbing things, shadows of things lurking, and waiting. Then the visions were everywhere, and I locked myself in my room to hide from them.

    I knew I couldn’t go on like this, so I got in my car and checked into the Mountain Ridge Insane Asylum. The people there were great, I was given medications with every meal, and I had all different types of leisure time. They gave us books, art time, and courtyard time. It was great and in 3 days, all of the hallucinations were gone. However, after a week I missed my home and asked to be let out.

    I was brought to see the person in charge of the asylum, and to my utter shock, it was the man with the mole on his cheek. After I requested to be let out he began to speak, “I see that your mental state is back to normal, but, you locked yourself in, and I cannot unlock you. HAHA, you evaded me once, but never again.”

    Then, I woke up, in a padded room wearing a straight jacket. I was left in solitude for 3 days without any medicine or drugs, and that brings me to where I am now. Without all of the meds, the hallucinations are coming back, and I wish I hadn’t checked myself in, I would have been better off, not being held hostage by my hallucinations and the mole-faced man.

    1. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      Such a terrible fate, conveyed in such a few words. I mean, the premise of the mind turning against you is scary enough, but then the hallucinations attack the man in the place where he’s supposed to be safe and to heal from his problems. The twist was great, when it’s revealed that the asylum is a worst place for the man than the real world.

      Good job!

    2. I like the creativity here as well as the depiction of madness and futility of avoiding a terrible fate.

      One piece of constructive criticism I have is that the third sentence runs on quite long with five commas and about five complete thoughts. However it could be explained as the ramblings of our madman protagonist. Then the run-on string of thoughts would make sense.

      My second piece of constructive criticism is more of a personal preference. I wish I knew just a little more about the mole-faced man. Even just once sentence about his motivations and relationship to our protagonist would really improve the impact of their conflict. Why is he torturing him? Why would the owner of an asylum attempt a kidnapping?

  22. A Geologist, A Sasquatch,
    Aliens stroll through a door.

    By Shawnee Bysh

    The Catalina Foothills are breathtaking as the sun sets below the horizon. The barren, mountainous landscape is becoming darker as time passes. While shining my helmet light on a piece of rock face, I heard a strange echoing sound that trailed through the nightfall, as a gentle wind grew stronger and passed me by. Once in a while, I observe a desert rodent outsmarting a fox far away, or even a pair of cougars on the hunt for their next meal. Just before eleven thirty, the evening’s quiet’s disrupted by a loud, strange noise, so eerie.

    It was then that I noticed something of a mysterious size heading towards the base of the great foothill. A light and a strange creature were sighted near the horizon, moving towards the same spot. I lifted my binoculars to get a clearer view. Only to realize something’s blurring it. I wiped and wiped the lenses in futile attempts to clear up the view. Only to be thwarted by whatever it is doing. So, I threw them down as I grabbed my flashlight and bag instead, heading towards where I’d seen them. It’s almost one o’clock in the morning by the time I’d reached the caves. Strange thing to find no entrance into the cave.

    At all.

    How can it be?

    How, in god’s name, can there be no entrance to it? I felt around the rock face in the hopes I will find a way inside it. I did, to my astonishment. My hand brushes against what seems to be a mechanism that activates a door.

    It seems to malfunction upon approach. I, with caution, attempted two, three, four wary times to go inside. When a shadow rushes across a distant wall, my bravery overpowered my fear of the door as I rushed inside and through the corridors. Another much taller shadow appeared to blacken the area with its size as if it’s night inside this strange place.

    Great, you’ve locked us in again, haven’t you?

    Where’s the key?

    Oh great, somebody’s here.

    A HUMAN!

    The alien’s very annoyed to see me.

    1. Chaz Jazzman Avatar
      Chaz Jazzman

      This story is very good about the concept of locking yourself in. From what I read, (tell me if I’m wrong), a Sasquatch gets himself stuck in a “cave” which I am assuming is a garage, and the human locks him in. I LOVE the detail in the beginning about the forest and what you can see, only, the last line, “The alien’s very annoyed to see me,” is a bit out of place, so maybe you could have elaborated more on that, but otherwise GREAT JOB. Keep on writing!

      1. Thank you, for taking the time to read. Yes, a Sasquatch and A space alien gets locked inside a cave with a human (somehow). Though I must admit I may have done this challenge wrong, it being my first time writing here. It was a challenge to write this piece I apologize if it seems incomplete. But I appreciate you, and anyone else who’s read my piece.

    2. Shinigamma Avatar
      Shinigamma

      The premise of this piece is excellent. However, I was a little confused about the perspective of the story, until Chaz and you explained it in the comments. You write really well, the opening descriptions are great, however it would be nice if you could make it clearer who the narrator is, and who they are talking/looking at.

      By the way, there is no wrong way to do the challenge as long as you include the prompt in some way, which you did (and also follow the above formatting guidelines). So don’t feel bad, not a bad start for your first time here.

      Keep on writing!

      1. I’d intended it to be from the perspective mainly from the Geologist’s point of view until near that last sentence where it would then be the Alien trying to open the door. I will definitely work on this after this week’s prompt challenge is over and I’d have permission too. 🙂 Which will mean also it being a longer piece of maybe 500 instead. Haphazard of my brain always wanting to write out of the confines of challenges. lol

  23. Compulsory Thirst.

    By Galer.

    This cell became his home. It was even remodeled for his tastes and his condition, the room didn’t have any windows whatsoever.

    It was his refuge against the sun that he was allergic to.

    His sanctuary in which he could try and live a pseudo-normal life until the situation stabilized so he could finally walk free from this place.

    He hated needing to be holed up here, however, he lost his freedom thanks to that Strigoi.

    If that escapee from Hell hadn’t screwed him up with this condition turning him into Moroi for kicks, Then Gary wouldn’t be forced to feed on human blood.

    “It certainly doesn’t help that the fucking curse is compulsory,” Gary said bitterly while he took his special rations.

    Human blood mixed with enchanted agents so the prions wouldn’t ravage his brain. It happened to other Moroi as their human body wasn’t designed for it. Not like the hematophagous.

    He gave a sad smile. He was lucky to have a family that loved him even if he had this condition.

    Others weren’t so lucky. When he investigated, he discovered the gruesome fate of some.

    Abandonment, neglect, madness, treated as undead monsters when they weren’t. Undeath and mistreatment by misinformation.

    Gary couldn’t help but feel angry, but what else could he do other than wait? No, he could inform people correctly about his condition, until Humankind could break this curse.

    One that was let loose thanks to the Morning Star’s spite-fuelled attempts against god and humankind.

    Only to make Innocents suffer.

    All of this from that spat.

    “…Bastard,” Gary thought, one he shared with a myriad of unfortunates across the planet.

    He walked resolutely to his phone and talked with some contacts. Hopefully, he could make it so that people that had the same condition as him were treated fairly and not as monsters to be feared.

    It was the least Gary could do now that he was in his cell for the sake of others’ safety.

    He would reach as many people as he could. That, he swore.

    1. Reidrev Avatar
      Reidrev

      A pretty nice story about pushing through obstacles^^
      The universe seems pretty complete as well, you seem to have a good grasp on the place of everything in this world which is refreshing to see.
      I do have a bit of a problem though and it’s the amount of exposition.
      There’s a lot, a bit too much, since we only see a bit of your world it’s normal that you want to say a lot but sadly it just gives the feeling of watching a lecture rather than a man struggling for his humanity.
      That’s a shame, I would prefer knowing how the character feels about the madness creeping closer, if he feels alone if he misses the sun.

      In any case real nice story and hope to find out more about the characters and a bit less about the world.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This somehow feels different than most of the stories I’ve read from you so far. It has the same elements, but it is a lot … I don’t know, calmer? Your rhythm usually is quite frenetic, but this time it is somewhat meditative. I really liked the variation.

      And it is specially good seeing how it fits with the whole story. There is some introspection, pain and loss here – but most of all, there is a sense of purpose. This makes the narrative very compelling. I also really like how the curse is presented, and how the idea of its carriers being denied humanity is seeing here as terrible problem to be overcome. The protagonist is not in a good place, but he is in a better place than most in similar conditions – and he will use that little advantage to the betterment of them all, if possible.

      Yeah, meditative was the way to go with this one. This gets the message across, and builds up the tone rightly! It is also always good to see variation in style among our fellow writers!

      Thanks for sharing!

  24. Danny Gilhooley Avatar
    Danny Gilhooley

    The Hijack
    By Danny Gilhooley

    The car coasted along the plain. Bill had heard stories of how flat everything was out there compared to New York. Seeing it for himself, how every direction looked the same for miles, he realized how alone he really was.

    And stiff. He hadn’t moved since the hitchhiker showed him the gun he had. He turned his head to Joan in the passenger’s seat. She was looking dead ahead as well.

    He glanced in the rearview mirror. The hitchhiker was looking out the back window of the van. The pistol was gripped firmly in one hand. His suitcase was gripped even firmer in the other.

    “Hey,” Bill said.

    The hitchhiker turned around.

    “How much further?” Bill asked.

    “Oh, we have a way to go,” the hitchhiker said.

    “I’ll need to stop the car soon. I have to stretch.”

    The hitchhiker looked behind him again, shook his head, then faced back to the front. “Can’t do that,” he said. “There’s still a trail. I’ll let you know when we can stop.”

    Bill turned his head to Joan again. This time, Joan sighed and started to move her hands. She was signing.

    ‘We need to get attention to ourselves,’ she signed.

    Bill looked in the rearview mirror. The hitchhiker was looking out the back again. Bill took his hands off the wheel and replied back.

    ‘There’s no one here,’ he signed. ‘I can’t remember the last time we saw a town sign.’

    ‘This road can’t go on forever,’ she signed back. ‘Try to figure out why he took us.’

    Bill nodded. “You can’t outrun the police,” he said.

    “It’s not the police I’m running from.”

    “Does it have to do with what’s in the suitcase?”

    Bill heard the gun click behind him. Joan winced.

    “What I have locked in here, is very important. And if it ends up in the wrong hands, then I’ll be lucky if the police kill me. Just drive.”

    1. I really like how this week’s prompt “I locked myself in here” applies more to the antagonist than the other two characters. The gun-toting hitchhiker -more like hijacker- is seemingly the one who has locked himself into a situation the most by violently taking over this pair’s road trip. Bill and Joan are locked in too, but it’s not their own doing.

      Smaller note is that I also like the sudden and twisty reveal of the gun and the true nature of the situation. It really grabbed my attention, well done. 🙂

      I also appreciate showing sign language in a story like this. I like how Bill and Joan use it to talk without the hitchhiker hearing.

    2. koryan94 Avatar
      koryan94

      I love the fact that all the characters know Sing Language that’s really cool. I haven’t read too many stories with sign language so I’m not sure how you would go about dialogue tags or even if they all have different dialects their voice comes through very easily so i can imagine how each them sound. Bill sounds annoyed Joan sounds worried and the hitchhiker I imagine has country twang I could be wrong but that is how I interpreted their voices. Since it is sign language you could also include more body language and facial expressions since it is a 3 dimensional language that encompasses most of not all of the human body.

  25. The unknown(EDITED)
    by Dev

    It was a rainy day. I was out shopping, I had to buy paper cutters, blades, compasses, and nails.
    I wondered if the freedom that rain gives me would cease to exist one day.
    I’ll be heartless, cold, and distant, these thoughts petrified me from deep within, I wanted to be someone else,
    I wished to escape from that dread, that is deep within myself. I did not realize I was walking as if a man
    Was stripped away from his chastity and was now forced to live the rest of his life in insanity. I opened my room and lit up some candles to make yellow bloom.
    It had been days since I last met them, I didn’t want them, as it was so burdensome to be loved,
    So agonizing to fulfill people’s expectations. I was always incompetent in consoling them. I did not hate them,
    Quite the contrary, I loved them, but this voracious void in me, kept me distant.

    I lay dead on my bed, then a thought came to me, I had a cigarette, I lit it and started to smoke,
    I realized, in those smoky clouds of despair, disdain, denial, and whatnot that, SMOKE TENDS TO TAKE AWAY THE MIST, I realized I had been wasting my time for quite a while. I suddenly saw my scars while I was trying to relocate some of my unique cars, into order. That was a momentary bliss. The scars made me remember what I missed, I missed the absolute numbness that I got from pain… but in the midst of that chaos, I realized that I TRIED, I LIVED, I FAILED.
    The reason was quite simple.
    My constant fear.
    Of What?.
    I don’t know, that constant fear locked me somewhere along the line and I was too blind to see a simple trick in those retched and helpless times, though it doesn’t matter now, as even after seeing through the wall, I couldn’t bring up any solutions for that constant brawl.

    I wish to transcend from this LOCKED ROOM, but I just can’t find the right key yet, no matter what I do, I feel like I have nowhere to go to now, or rather I don’t want to, perhaps I’m the most MISUNDERSTOOD?
    Oh well, blame it on the locked room.

    1. Chaz Jazzman Avatar
      Chaz Jazzman

      GREAT ASYNDETON!

  26. THE UNKNOWN
    BY Dev

    It was a rainy day. I was out shopping, I had to buy paper cutters, blades, compasses, and nails.
    I wondered if rain, would one day, cease to exist for me. I wondered if the freedom it gives will cease to exist.
    Perhaps the last few things that gave me happiness would one day won’t feel how they should.
    I’ll be heartless, cold, and distant, these thoughts petrified me from deep within, I wanted to be someone else,
    I wish I could escape from that dread, that is deep within myself. I did not realize I was walking, walking as if a man
    Was stripped away from his chastity and was now forced to live the rest of his life in insanity. I opened my room, lit up the lights, more like lit up some candles. I had lights that were of shades of colors, one can’t even describe off, but they all seemed to be blue, so I thought it was better to be in partial darkness that is still going to feel like shades of yellow.
    It had been days since I last met with my family, friends, and HER. I didn’t want them, it was so burdensome to be loved,
    So irritatingly agonizing to fulfill people’s expectations. I was always incompetent in consoling them. I did not hate them,
    Quite the contrary, I loved them, but this voracious void in me, kept me distant.

    I lay dead on my bed, then a thought came to me, I had a leftover cigarette, I lit it and started to smoke it,
    I realized, in those smoky clouds of despair, disdain, discomfort, denial, and whatnot that, SMOKE TENDS TO TAKE AWAY THE MIST. It had been a while, I suddenly realized, I had been wasting my time for quite a while. I suddenly saw my scars while I was trying to relocate some of my unique cars into absolute perfection of order. That was rather a momentary bliss. The scars made me remember what I missed, I missed the absolute numbness that I got from pain, they made me remember how much I hate puny attempts of reigns, It made me remember how much I despise people who call themselves the supreme of a race, but in the midst of that chaos, I realized that I TRIED, I LIVED, I FAILED.
    The reason was quite simple.
    My constant fear.
    Of What?.
    I do not know, that unknown constant fear locked me somewhere along the line and I was too blind to see a simple trick in those tough and difficult and helpless and weird times, though it doesn’t matter now, as even after seeing through the wall, I couldn’t bring up any solutions for that constant brawl that was happening between my conscious and my body.

    I wish to transcend from this LOCKED ROOM, but I just can’t find the right key yet, no matter what I do, I feel like I have nowhere to go to now, or rather I don’t want to, perhaps I’m the most MISUNDERSTOOD?
    Oh well, blame it on the locked room.

    1. Chaz Jazzman Avatar
      Chaz Jazzman

      GREAT ASYNDETON

      1. thank you so much

    2. katerina Avatar
      katerina

      very interesting to read! really shows how you can be stuck in such a toxic cycle of isolation and numbness, and only rarely realizing how far in you are and constantly wishing you could do something about it, but not fully understanding what’s wrong or how to break the cycle. good job !! :))

      -katerina/kapitan kat/wow_i_exist

      1. yeah and I’m really happy that what I wanted to show reached the readers, and thank you so much for your feedback.

  27. Acecerak Avatar
    Acecerak

    Locked in Boredom
    By Acecerak

    Natalie, also called Nat by colleagues, was a very lonely, boring person, around 34. She had colleagues, few friends, no family to speak of. She worked a 9-5 Job in an office, stayed home on the holidays. The only wild thing about her was her brown and kind of scruffy hair. She hated that. 

    One day everything changed when a guy in a suit with wild, jet-black hair, turned up on her doorstep and asked her if she wanted to be rich. She declined, thinking, There must be a catch, it’s probably a scam’. 

    A week later, as she came home from work, that man was back. He asked her if she wanted to be beautiful. But she refused, thinking to herself, ‘He must be some kind of Door-to-door-salesman for beauty operations’.

    A month passed before the man came back. This time, he offered her freedom. She wasn’t sure what he meant by freedom, so she asked him to clarify. He smiled, an honest, handsome smile, and he told her that he had the ability to give her anything she wanted, if she gave him some of her time.

    She wasn’t sure what she could wish for, but she didn’t know right now anyway. She asked him: “Can I have some time to think about it?” He told her he could come back next week, then she could ask for all the things she wanted.

    When the man came back, Natalie knew what she wanted. She asked to know his name. The man was stunned. He couldn’t tell her that.

    She said she didn’t wish for anything then. Natalie threw her chance at a different life away, because she wanted to know who she was making deals with. Instead, she continued her boring life at her job, until she died in an accident.

    1. This reads like a fable. From telling us who the main character is through the rule of three to the moral at the end.

      If that was your goal, well done.

      A boring person stays boring via boring choices and too much caution. She wanted nothing and got it.

      We still don’t know if she dodged a bullet or got what she deserved.

      1. Acecerak Avatar
        Acecerak

        She definitely dodged a bullet, I had a price in the back of my mind, that i didn’t use

    2. Chaz Jazzman Avatar
      Chaz Jazzman

      The last line, “until she died in an accident,” is amazing. The shock value added by that is perfect, you have a story that goes on like a normal story-and then…BAM she dies in an accident. this writing very much reminds me of the style of Chuck Palahniuk and very much of Fight Club. Natalie is much like the Narrator, living a boring desk job, focused on material items, and then… BAM her life goes awry. Great Job, Keep writing!

    3. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This story is pretty bizarre. I mean, it seems like the protagonist is doing the right thing at first, but then it’s revealed that the man was, in fact, capable of changing her life. And yet, she threw away this supernatural being, only to die randomly. It feels almost like a cruel joke, but it hits.

      Good job!

  28. Strong Berry Avatar
    Strong Berry

    Direct Hit (Credit to Aracnarquista for beta reading)
    By Strong Berry

    It’s been a few hours since the direct hit happened, and yet I’m still freaked out. I should sleep, and yet I can’t seem to calm myself. Maybe if I write this down it’ll make me feel better.

    I think what affected me the most was the shock. I’ve been fired rockets at before, so when I heard the siren, I thought nothing much of it. It was always the same: Hear the siren, go to the shelter, wait, and then come out and continue your day. The explosions I’ve heard in those times were far, far away, so I’ve come to develop this… almost indifference to it. And then there was a direct hit in my neighborhood.

    The explosion was the first time I’ve felt genuine fear from rockets. I don’t remember it too clearly, a tiny, very loud earthquake. When I woke found myself on the floor, muffled screams coming from outside. After a minute or two I got the courage to come out and see what was left of the building. It was very clear, the charred remains of the apartment. A terrible, smoking hole on the otherwise white and grey building.

    On the street, the man who used to live in that apartment was tended to by a few paramedics. They were surrounded by a large crowd, so I had to get closer to see. I’ll never forget that face, charred, unrecognizable, marked by death. He didn’t survive.

    It was only a few tens of meters away from my house! It could’ve easily been me, or my friends, or my parents. I wonder if I should sleep in the shelter tonight. That is, if I manage to get some sleep at all tonight.

    Dear God, what has become of me? Is this all it takes to knock me down? Get yourself together, me! So there’s been a hit, so what? The fear will pass, and you’ll return to your life. It’s OK, you’ll be OK!

    Desperate words from a scared little man.

    Yes, I think I’ve decided. I’m going to sleep in the shelter tonight.

    1. Acecerak Avatar
      Acecerak

      I like this story, because it has a very relatable, but scary situation. It reminds of what happened in Ukraine, but it mostly makes me think, I shouldn’t be scared of something that has happened if it isn’t happening anytime soon. I don’t think anyone wants to be in that situation, but I would like to test how I would behave if I was there. 9 out of 10. Really loved the message I think of. No idea if that is the moral meant here, but I like to think there is one.

      1. Strong Berry Avatar
        Strong Berry

        Thank you for your kind words! And as for the moral, I didn’t intend to put one here, I just wanted to express feeling.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Well, I did read the previous version, so some of my impressions were already pointed out in that one. But now I’m reading it again, and all reading is, in itself, its first reading – so I can have some new first impressions as well.

      As I have pointed out before, you have a very powerful theme, and you chose an interesting register to deal with it. The protagonist voice shows anxiety and desperation, but it does so in a very pragmatic way – this is, to my eyes, to the benefit of the story: it uses well the word count, and it shows how in such a dire circumstances, pragmatic planning and desperation can be conjoined. Survival (not only physical survival, but survival of some semblance of thought and control) can be that strong. This is both interesting to notice, but also scary. And this is what makes this story particularly interesting to my eyes.

      Thanks for sharing!

      1. Strong Berry Avatar
        Strong Berry

        Thank you for you kinds words and readings!

    3. what a terrifyingly real scenario. you really struck a genuine vein of fear, of panic, just a wonderfully constructed scene. What I think sells it for me specifically was the preamble of “oh I’ve been around strikes all the time, it’s just go in the bunker and out back to my day”. that casualness to suck a striking change was great.

      I will say as strong as everything is, I felt like a section or two read kind of awkward, though I couldn’t tell you why.

      Well done!

      1. Strong Berry Avatar
        Strong Berry

        Thank you for your kind words!

    4. Interesting to see the perspective of a victim in these assortments of tales. Someone who’s seen horrors and is too terrified to go outside again.

      It’s an understandable terror, to be honest. I can relate to your protagonist if I was in a similar situation. The world they know has been shattered so they retreat to the only safety they know.

      I find myself wishing them luck. So that’s good work from you!

      1. Strong Berry Avatar
        Strong Berry

        Thank you for your kind words!

    5. Shinigamma Avatar
      Shinigamma

      No context on the conflict. No tales of brave and daring do. Just the raw terror of someone caught in the crossfire.

      I love how the first few paragraphs are written calmly, before the narrator seems to lose control within the last few (“It was only a few tens of meters away from my house!” “Dear God, what has become of me?”). You can feel them still processing the trauma from the attack.

      Extremely well done!

  29. Trapper (Darkspell Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    Valerie stood with her back to what her mind interpreted as a wall, as she waited in one of the creepiest places the world had to offer: an empty hallway. Few things could be more uncanny than feeling the long stretch of indoors extending in two directions like a worm and yet be confined by two solid masses on the other sides.

    Everything in Valerie’s very essence told her that she wasn’t supposed to stay here. Hallways had the uncanny ability to shepherd you along, silently telling you that you were expected to leave it as soon as possible.

    In fairness to this particular hallway though, that feeling was augmented by the shadowy figures standing in front of her. The blindfold hugged her eyes tightly, yet Valerie knew exactly who and what she was confronted by. The baseball bats in their hands made that more than clear.

    The doors were locked and so were the windows. Everyone was asleep and there was no way out of the building. Valerie touched the wall behind her with the palms of her gloved hands, tensing her arms, preparing.

    “When you trespassed on our turf for the first time, we all looked the other way,” a harsh, male voice said. “Even when it happened a second time, we collectively decided to be merciful. But you’re on strike three, which means you need to be taught a lesson.”

    Valerie’s senses switched between the three street gang members, each burlier than the other. Tattoos lined their arms and clean-shaven heads.

    “Maybe I wouldn’t have to trespass, if you weren’t running extortion rackets in Guillaume’s Court,” she replied.

    The response was laughter from three throats.

    “You’re just some blind girl, locked in this apartment building. Who are you to tell us how we conduct our business.”

    “I am the Nightguard,” Valerie’s dream of the surrounding reality began to take shape. “I’m not as blind as I look and I locked myself in here. And you with me.”

    The grunts hesitated. Valerie began to dream that gravity around her was more of a suggestion than a law.

    Reality obliged.

    1. Ah yes, the old “I’m not locked in here with you, you’re locked in here with me!” Best trope.

    2. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      Excellently done! The tension build is great and the reveal that Valerie is not in a hopeless situation is wonderful.

      It was a bit difficult to realize that it was worded that way because she was blind. I have never had to write like that, so I do not know quite how to help with this predicament, except maybe to reveal the blindness sooner?

    3. I like how you tried too slowly build, what’s about to come, and for me the thing which was the most appealing was perhaps the fact that there can be a number of possible interpretations of the end, one could even say the whole situation was a dream, I’m fairly new to writing, so my opinions could be a bit weird ig and I liked your work and its worth reading.

    4. Very well done on the tension I could literally feel the emotion she was feeling. Bravo. Wow. Your story kept my attention the entire time I read this. The imagery is fantastically visual. When the voice utters, I am the nightguard. Kind of gives me a shudder of creepy cool.

  30. Call Me Hunter (By Name and By Nature) [Amalgam Universe]
    C. M. Weller

    Do not come near. I am dangerous. I know this because I am a killer. I have been killing ever since I could hold a weapon. Ants and magnifying glasses. Knives and dogs dumb enough to attack.

    People stupid enough to anger me.

    I am dangerous. What I do is wrong.

    What I do is powerful.

    It’s like an addiction, this power of mine. I can’t quit, try though I might. I tried to stay away. I tried to keep it to a minimum.

    I failed.

    My status, my privilege, kept me away from the cage I needed to keep the rest of the world safe. So I found something of a compromise. I found an old station that’s been abandoned for years. A floating hulk filled only with autonomous systems and its own wild ecology.

    I am the apex predator here. Sealed away from causing harm to society. My father wouldn’t care. I do. Maybe that’s where I’m nothing like a normal person. Father causes harm with money. I’m abnormal enough to use blood. That’s not great for profits.

    So I shut myself away. So nobody needs to die before they give the corporation all they can give but their lives. I don’t understand the art of it. I just want the power over life and death. The power over bloodshed.

    There’s plenty of lives on this old station. Plenty to hunt.

    I’m happy being alone.

    You who call yourself Alliance. You who call yourself the Cogniscent Rights Committee. You who call MY world a deregulation world. Stay away.

    If you come on board my station, I am hunter.

    You are prey.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Very ominous. I feel vibes from a certain song (which you’ve sadly never heard (?)). It feels interesting that he hints it’s from lack of attention or care. Or maybe he’s just saying “Some people are subtle, like my father. Subtly thy name is not!”

      I love the piece in all. Can’t wait to see more!

      1. My usual go-to for serial killers is _Axe to Grind_ by Boom Crash Opera [yes that is a real band name]

        If that’s the one you’re thinking of, then I guess we vibe 😀

    2. This is great. It’s super evocative and even though you don’t describe anything in vast detail, it still paints a vivid picture of what the places and people are like. I also like how you managed to include a lot of details that imply there’s a bigger story going on here without going in-depth about what that story is. I mean, I know that’s probably partly due to the word count limit but it takes at least some skill to drop those kinds of hints without making the story feel like it’s missing something. When I read it, I didn’t feel like I was missing anything–it felt self-contained. Good job!

      1. My biggest internal conflict in writing this was how to explain the greater universe without making it too full of “Tell”

        It was a great shock to me to see that I did it just barely over 250 words.

    3. Acecerak Avatar
      Acecerak

      I really like that he implies that his father is a powerful with money and resources. He can hurt a person himself, he doesn’t need others to do it for him. I also like that, even though he likes killing, he shuts himself away to save them. He gets a thrill in killing, he doesn’t see it necessary for people to die. 9/10. Now I really want to see this on TV

      1. The deregulation worlds in my pet universe are places in which the greater mass of humanity is only valuable as long as they can work and make profit for the corporate leaders.

        Therefore it’s unethical to kill anyone before retirement age 9_9

        You may already guess that this sort of thing is a direct reflection of late-stage capitalism.

    4. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This is a very nice setup for the villain/monster. It depicts all we need to know about him: How he feels about himself, how he feels about those who trespass on his domain, and how he feels about the corporation who wanted to use him and his power, that he apparently despises (That’s a nice thing too, we all love a complex villain).

      Good job!

      1. Thank you! I do try my best.

    5. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      Having read a decent number of your Kosh stories, I really found this break away from fantasy an interesting divergence from your usual work here on Tale Foundry. And you manage to do this well. While there isn’t the richness that usually comes with your Kosh stories, that’s because the other stories build on each other so they add depth that single stories by themselves may not be able to do.

      I really enjoyed the exploration of a kind of “moral” sociopath. We at first see the ways in which he or she embraces these urges to violence. Yet also acknowledges the desire to escape to somewhere in order to actually protect people from their capacity for harm. In contrast, the character’s father reads as an even worse monster who uses business to drain the lives of people of everything but their actual biological life.

      Finally I really like how the narrator’s contrast between the ethics of society which yet allows inhumanity to others, compared to their own primal animalistic state. A fascinating read and an interesting commentary on the question of what is evil. Well done!

      1. You can see snippets of this universe in my daily tales, every now and again. It was tricky to wrap all the necessary details into the word limit. I’m shocked I did.

    6. Ooooo! I do love me a tragic villain. Not entirely sure that applies here but it’s in the family of one as far as I’m concerned. I do love the threatening nature of the story from the beginning. You do a great job of letting us know the kind of character they are.

      My favorite part is the comparison between someone who kills for fun and someone who destroys lives with money and how that somehow makes the killing not seem so bad. Though it massively helps that they shut themselves away so they don’t hurt others which definitely makes the character endearing.

      Needless to say, I found this story amazing and I look forward to seeing more of it. You packed quite the punch within the word limit. Awesome take in the prompt!

      Thanks for sharing!

    7. I like this a lot! this character is a really fascinating one to wrap my head around. A character conscious enough to know that their addiction is wrong, but not motivated to stop in any, only considerate(?) enough to get out of the way of society and their fathers corporation. also them being in a position in life where there have had enablers it seems. I have Zero context for the last four lines, but I don’t care really, this character seems like a blast to write for, and on my end it was a great read

    8. This is a really cool story. Was not expecting it to be sci-fi.

      I really like that they’re a moral enough…sociopath or whatever they are to lock themselves away in a space station like that. Curious just how big the station is and what kind of…environment the animals have and how sustainable it is… There I go again. Thinking more about the unsaid and background noise than the actual story…

      But anyway. It’s a good story. Thanks for writing it.

  31. Fire Against Fire
    by Jacob Mays (aka SirPogsalot)

    It’s a cruel fate that sees us sealed away for sins we had thought absolved. Yet it’s a fate of our own making. And indeed, my own choosing.

    When great evil threatens what is true, the weak look to the heroes of the age for answers, expecting these pillars of chivalry and virtue to fight back the darkness and reclaim what was lost, as they always do. Good always wins in the end.

    And so it has been for eons. An evil would rise up, from a dark sorcerer, a power-hungry madman, or a vicious warlord. Yet inevitably, a hero would arise–oft more than one–and vanquish the evil, to the celebration of the realm.

    Yet what happens when a force of evil vanquishes another such evil because the heroes cannot? Darkness against darkness, death against chaos, while the heroes and commoners alike watch on in shock. Fools! Do they truly believe that goodness and purity can outdo ruthlessness and power?

    Swiftly they found themselves rid of that notion, when the Grey swept over our home and corrupted it to the core. They could do nothing to stop it–nothing their boundaries of ethics would allow.

    But I? I had no such boundaries. This they knew, and they came crawling to me for help, begging me to save them from the impending threat. And save them I did–through sacrifices they were unwilling to commit. They knew what had to be done. And they knew what would be required of them, were they to do it. But they could not bear to tarnish their sinless souls, even in the face of impending doom.

    Fools.

    When they called for help, I answered. I did what they could not–would not. But I was no hero. No celebration awaited me. Only hatred, fear, and disgust.

    Now, for their sake, I am sealed away. An evil against an evil. Was my victory penitence for my crimes? No; an evil I remain, and so I choose to be sealed here. But they shall never again have my aid.

    They shall learn to fight fire with fire.

    1. Oooh, I like your baddie. They know exactly what they are and don’t dance around with excuses.

      Fighting fire with fire in this case seems to be the only way to achieve the greater good. Defeat an evil with a tolerable evil, and then close it away from causing further harm.

      It’s a similar philosophy to my own Pax Humanis, where the serial killers are used against other evils in the universe. It’s fascinating that yours acknowledges that they need to be contained until a time of great need. Most with murderous inclinations don’t really want to be stopped.

      1. Yeah, I wanted the way it tied into the prompt itself to be more unique. That’s also why I left it vague as to what the specific circumstances were, so that I could make the villain be more mysterious than just “ah yes I like to hurt people” and so that their complacent reaction to being sealed away doesn’t beg too much explanation.

    2. katerina Avatar
      katerina

      really nice representation of the more grey-like side of things !! it’s very intriguing with how it’s not always the ‘pure and good’ side that will always win, but whoever is willing to persevere in what they believe in. learning how to fight fire with fire is dangerous, but something we’ll have to learn soon enough. good job with your work !!

  32. Beauty and The Beast
    By Marx

    This won’t end well.

    I know this.

    She knows this.

    We have no choice but to know this.

    We are diametrically opposed in every conceivable way.

    From the physical to the spiritual to everything in between, anything that happens between us is fated to end in the destruction of one if not both of us.

    Given that even the mere idea of her destruction is agonizing to me, logic would say to avoid this by any means necessary.

    And yet…

    We don’t.

    I don’t…

    This is all new to her, but I have no falsehoods about what this is.

    This pull…

    This yearning…

    This need…

    I’ve felt love’s entrapment before. I’ve felt its glorious inferno. That unquenchable flame that burns and binds. Drawing you into its orbit. Leaving you weightless and exposed and utterly vulnerable to its overwhelming power.

    I’ve also felt its loss…

    I’ve felt how empty and meaningless the eternal void of existence is without the face who becomes your every breathing moment.

    How could I possibly allow myself to feel this way again?

    It’s inconceivable to even imagine it.

    And yet…

    I did…

    I tried to ignore it.

    I tried to fight it.

    But when it all comes down to it…

    I love her.

    I love her so much that I’m willing to ignore how her holy light and my demonic darkness corrupt each other in a swirling storm of chaotic disarray.

    Her perfection is agonizing for an infernal beast like me to behold and not only do I not care…

    But with every beautiful smile…

    Every warm embrace…

    Every chaste kiss…

    …I crave that pain.

    I allow myself to be swallowed whole by love’s pull once more, regardless of the consequences.

    Yes, I know this won’t end well.

    Fate has a way of… punishing those who foolishly spit in its face.

    But regardless, I choose happiness.

    I choose to be with my perfect angel.

    I choose to enslave myself to love’s siren call once again.

    And whatever may come of it, I know we’ll face it together.

    From now until the end.

    1. Just plug that beauty-and-the-beast angst juice directly into my veins! Sinner-saint or monster-maiden romance is my fucking JAM! Give me a monster who believes they’re beyond any kind of redemption but gets love and acceptance anyway.

      Ooof, that’s the good stuff.

      And if ***I*** was in charge, there would be no bad ending, but that’s me. I love that you left it up to those who read it to interpret what it ends like.

      I’m on record as wanting a happy ending.

      1. Okay, so here’s the deal with that. Canonically speaking, the main character of my story is the child of these two and he never gets to know his biological parents because they both die either before or in the process of him being born, so… it doesn’t end well.

        However… I do love me some alternate realities and enough people like this pairing that I will be doing an alternate reality where they survive, which… causes a whole other set of problems lol.

    2. for me, the emotions that this particular piece of writing emits is unexplainable
      and if I had to say what was my favorite part, I’d go with
      “I’ve felt how empty and meaningless the eternal void of existence is without the face who becomes your every breathing moment.” I loved your work.

      1. Awww! Thank you so much! I’m so glad you enjoyed it!

    3. Shinigamma Avatar
      Shinigamma

      This piece is very poetic. And I love the interpretation of the prompt in this one. To lock oneself in love. To serve just one person forever. How romantic.

      This isn’t so much a story as a glimpse at the thoughts racing through the narrator’s head. In that regard, the structure works really well, alternating between short sentences highlighting the narrator’s desperation and longer sentences elaborating upon their feelings.

      Very well done.

      1. Thank you so much! As soon as the idea hit me to use love as a way of locking one’s self away, the rest all fell together.

        I was curious how the ‘thought bubbles’ format of the paragraphs would work, since I’ve done it before and it works better sometimes than it does others but I was really happy with the flow of this one.

  33. WriterOfThought Avatar
    WriterOfThought

    Never Take a Vampire on an Exploration Mission
    WriterOfThought

    Helena and Astrea wandered the abandoned laboratory, cautious of broken beams and crumbling floors and ceilings. They still hadn’t found the exit.

    “I’ll check down this way,” Helena said, nightborn eyes already seeing a door down a darkened hallway. “Why don’t you continue forward and contact me if you find anything?”

    “Sounds like a plan,” Astrea said. She hadn’t liked any portion of this laboratory. It looked too much like home, and nothing like it at the same time.

    Helena worked her way down the pitch-black hallway. Her red eyes absorbed every square inch of light they could, giving her only the briefest warnings of debris on the floor, until she reached the distant doorway.

    Looking in, she only saw blackness, but a faint, red glow on a distant wall. None of her heightened senses felt the presence of anything living, but the room still felt like she should not be there. She took a deep breath and entered anyway.

    Working her way around the wall, she discovered that the red glow was a faded sign that read “EX-T.” Their way out.

    Just as carefully, she made her way back to the doorway, to find it had shut behind her. She tried the handle, but it did not turn. There was no locking mechanism on her side, either.

    “Astrea,” Helena called through their mental link. “I found an exit, but the door locked behind me.”

    “I’m on my way,” Astrea replied, although Helena thought she heard the hint of a snickering laugh in her mind.

    She tried the door again, but it would not budge, but she did feel a prick on her finger. A splinter.

    As she removed it, she recalled the curses of her condition. Stakes, garlic, silver…

    Thresholds…

    She tried pushing the door this time, only to find herself toppling over into the hallway, finding Astrea laughing over her.

    “I was here the whole time, but holding the door shut on you was just too funny!”

    Helena picked herself off of the floor, punched Astrea in the shoulder, and the two continued to the EXIT sign.

    1. I really like the descriptions in this piece. The laboratory Helena and Astrea find themselves in was very eery and felt very liminal, as corridors have a tendency to do. I do like the pairing of the two and they seem to be used to working together, though I did fully expect something bad to happen, when they decided to split the proverbial party.

      Astrea’s prank at the end also adds to their dynamic. I like how they can tease each other like that. Adding the bits of Helena’s curse (of vampirism) also lends a nice bit of world building to the story. The hints probably would have made it clear that Helena was a vampire, given what her limits were described to be.

      Well written!

    2. I would have socked Astrea in the arm too. This was creepy good wow nice touch on the garlic, stakes and silver. I love the characters names and the imagery nicely done. Granted this could only be wrote in a small amount. I would love to have had more visual.

    3. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      Wow, Astrea’s being so mean to the poor vampire. That would be absolutely terrifying to have your friend trapped behind something and being physically unable to get past it on a magical level, and the inverse where a vampire is trapped inside something because of a threshold would be equally terrifying.

  34. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Trapped in the Shed

    By Tamela Redfin

    Mally hummed to herself as she worked. She loved the feeling of dirt between her fingers and the feeling of the water beads dropping onto her hands.

    “There! Aunt Cora will love the look of the flowers she planted.” Mally wiped chunks of dirt off her hands and tried to open the door. “Huh. It’s a little stuck.”

    She rattled the door a bit more, but then her heart started racing. She was locked in. She looked at the window, but it was too small for her to fit in.

    Mally beat on her door. “Come on, come on. Nora! Nora, are you there?”

    No response.

    “Mom? Dad? Anyone?” Desperation grew in her voice. “Someone will find me? Right?”

    The day got darker and Mally sat against the wall. Dusk was crawling in. Mally listened. Someone was outside.

    “Who’s there?” Mally called out.

    She could hear the feet go faster. “Is someone in there?”

    “Yes! Can you get me out?” Mally asked. A second later, the door opened and she saw someone she’d never seen.

    They had short brown hair, deep blue eyes, pale grey skin and sharp claws. Was this another cypha? Mally reached her hand out.

    “Hi there.” She shook his hand. “I’m Mally. I’ve never seen you before.”

    “Hi Mally. I’m Jasper.” He smiled back. “What were you doing in there?”

    “Taking care of the plants, but then I got locked in. Anyway, I should get home. I bet my parents and aunt are looking for me.” She flipped her red hair and showed off her earrings.

    “Wait, who are your parents and aunt?” Jasper asked.

    ***********

    When Jasper went home, he told Sapphira about his adventure.
    “Wait, you met the president’s niece?” His sister, Sapphira gasped.

    “That’s what she said.” Jasper insisted. “Mally Aldebrand was her name.”

    “Was she a redhead?” Sapphira teased.

    “Yeah, actually she was. I don’t get it.” Jasper tilted his head.

    Sapphira only laughed.

    1. Haha, nice. I like the light-hearted element to the whole thing. Just goes to show how many unique and interesting ways there are of interpreting what this prompt could mean. I also like the little twist at the end, and the visuals throughout; they were vivid, but not overly so. It was immersive.

      Overall a very cute and well-crafted story. Nice job!

    2. This is an interesting story. I wasn’t expecting to see a Cypha related to Cora. And it seems the “red head fever” has struck again.

      I realized though that there’s no indication of where Mally is though. We see her working, and there’s no mention of where she’s working until suddenly she’s trying to open a door. And beyond that…where is this room? Why doesn’t a family member notice she’s missing, but Jasper does? Why is Jasper there at all? Is this a public place?

      The end is interesting if you get the joke, but I feel like it makes more sense for Jasper not to understand there even IS a joke. Just answer. “Yeah, she was. Why do you ask/How’d you know?” And then have Sapphira laugh.

    3. I keep thinking you wouldn’t need your epilogue there if you _just_ added some more narrative. When your story is all dialogue and sketches of who’s doing what without any whys, it’s hard to feel with it.

      You know the chorus of this rant I always do.

      Aiming for one moment lets you flavour the moment with some character-centric narrative.

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