Writing Group: Beneath the Waves

Hello Deep Sea Divers and Enigma Code Crackers!

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

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

Beneath the Waves

RULES AND GUIDELINES BELOW!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—Paul, Felicia, Pearce and Kaylie

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

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

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

Rules and Guidelines

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

  1. Text and Formatting

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

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

    1. One submission per participant.
    2. Submit your entry in a comment on this post.
    3. Submissions close at 12:00pm CST each Friday.
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    5. Be constructive and uplifting. These submissions are not for a professional market, and shouldn’t be treated as such. We do this, first and foremost, for the joy of the craft. Help other writers to feel like their work is valuable, and be considerate and gentle with critique when you offer it. Authors who leave particularly abrasive or disheartening remarks on this post will be disqualified from selection for readings.
    6. Use the same e-mail for your posts, reviews, and likes, or you may be rendered ineligible (you may change your username or author name between posts without problem, however).
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Comments on this post that aren’t submissions will be deleted, except for replies/reviews left on existing submissions.


Comments

166 responses to “Writing Group: Beneath the Waves”

  1. When Can I Breathe Again?

    By Joe

    I sank to the bottom of a kelp forest onto a bed of seagrass that brushed against me with a slight tickle. I couldn’t move and I didn’t want to. It’s a comfort I’m in desperate need of.

    Because I lost something.

    The pain now is unbearable. At the time of my loss there was no help to be found nor a plan to be made, hope dropped like a stone off a cliff, and no power to stop it despite all the effort. At the mercy of it all like I am to the water.

    It is powerfully caging due to what its created. I’m barely concious and moving with the days. Often becoming susceptible to sadness, anger, and immobility as I try to process this new routine without them. The days I spent lying in bed made my body ache from having no will to move. I risked sociability and occupation for the sake of preserving my mental well-being, but harmed it at the same time. It’s the same when I work to preserve lying there achingly.

    It’s a brutal suspension pulling me in two directions having me wonder when I will split in two.

    But luckily, and I do mean luckily, I have enough reasons in the end to breathe again. I want to make something amazing before I leave. And I have people I make laugh, and they make me laugh, and they let me cry. Something others would treat like death and try so damningly hard to shake you awake so you don’t go into the light. But we all know that doesn’t help.

    Despite it all I still have love and purpose in my life, as well as time and restoration. And my biggest lesson from this is that time doesn’t heal at all. It’s what comes in time. And these reasons came just in time. Even though the lesson is not a guarantee of restoration, the clarity made me feel like I could float back to the surface.

    And I breathed again.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This hits way too close to home for comfort, again.

      Well, we had our stream yesterday, and after commenting on IntenseSpooks tale for the week (The Waves of Hatred), we had a whole discussion on the possibility of an ocean of melancholia, despair or sadness. Even an ocean of boredom or ennui – all of them seem know like we were trying to discuss the variation in tide that comprehend a greater ocean… maybe depression is the beach we are talking about here, or, at least, that’s how I recognize the shore I am envisioning in this tale.

      I find it quite refreshing and wholesome that you take the dive into what makes it not just painful, but in a way even a little bit comforting to accept it all… and then turn out and tries again, finds the resolve for breathing again. Things are not solved, we are still wet from these waters (and we will probably be there again soon), but by now, we breath. We cling to what we can, we recognize the things we have that we can cling on to. And we breath.

      And that’s how I see this story. A breathing moment. A breath of fresh air. Will it last? I don’t know. But, for now, we breath.

  2. Hydrothala, terror of the deep
    By Stryder

    We all woke up to a horrifing scream,
    Jake, Kait, and me saw Anna being dragged outside of the beach house by a tall figure,
    We chased after the thing, desperate to save her,
    But it was of no use…

    We chased the creature outside, only to see it dragging Anna closer and closer to the water.
    She flayed, cried and screamed for help,
    I ran as fast as I could, in a desperate attempt to save her,
    But before i could get to her… the monster dragged her into the waves…
    She was never seen there after….

    It’s been two years since and now that Jake, Kaitlyn and I are in The Predator Coalition of Hunters. We now set out on a hunt tonight,
    For tonight we are hunting the demon known as Hydrothala, the demonic incarnation of Thalassophobia… and the very monster who took Anna away from us…

    Watch your back Hydrothala, you’ve got a big storm coming for you…

  3. Lunabear Avatar

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

    “So…you’re a monster?”

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

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

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

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

    Sharine caught her. “Are you ok?”

    “I don’t know.”

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

    Kit nodded.

    “Ladies first.” Sharine bowed from the waist.

    “What about clothes?”

    “You can borrow some of mi–”

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

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

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

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

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

    Realization dawned. She was awake…during daylight hours.

    Sharine’s blood.

    Kit exited the bathroom and sat on his bed.

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

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

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

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

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

    “You didn’t have to.”

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

    Sunlight filled her chest. Her eyes illuminated like moonbeams.

    “Now, which dress?”

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

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

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

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

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

    1. A very intreaging story to say the least…
      I can see an interesting story developing here, the way it’s narraited can catch one’s attention quickly. Keep up the good work champ!

      1. Lunabear Avatar

        Thank you. Much appreciate your review.

  4. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
    Arith_Winterfell

    “Rising from the Shallows” (Aethryn Setting)

    By: Arith_Winterfell

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Talin’s hand goes for his mace.

  5. Aquatic Avatar

    The water feels warm while sinking below. The sliver of lines of light danced across my skin. I brush the strands of my floating hair out of my face to stare at the infinite sky beyond. The surface under the waves reminds me of tiny fractured mirrors of the blue sky. It’s the same sky but the ocean gives a different lens.
    I take in a deep breath.
    With my hand I pinch my nose, holding my breath as long as I can. Sinking deeper into the cooler water. Raising my leg above the water, I tried to imagine what it would be like, what it would look like. My lungs are burning. I hear a voice. I ignored it, trying to focus on not exhaling. A shadow blocks the sunlight.

    “Hey!” A loud voice screams.

    I gasped in surprise and swam backwards.

    “Whoa, are you okay?” Her voice softened.

    “No!” I coughed. My sister waited until I stopped gasping.

    “What are you doing?” She finally asked.

    “Nothing.”

    “Nothing?” She repeated, not believing my answer.

    After a few moments of silence a smug smile appeared on her lips. “Were you imagining being a human again?”

    “No!…Maybe…Yes.”

    “Well, don’t. It’s bad enough that you collect human trash they throw away! And if our dad finds it, we’re both in big trouble!” The blue fins on the side of her head flared in annoyance.

    “Okay. Okay. Fine.” I mutter under my breath. “I’ll just have to hide it better.”

    1. Lunabear Avatar

      Yay, Aqua! It’s great to see you writing!

      This is a very cute story. So, the main character is some kind of sea creature. I initially thought mermaid, but then you write leg. However, the leg could have been imaginary. I love the use of ocean waves here. I also love that the main character sees the sky from beneath and above the waves. Fantastic imagery.

      Critiques:

      You forgot the title of your piece and your name underneath that.

      You also drift between past and present tenses, so I suggest being careful with that.

      This is a wonderful story overall. I also enjoy the bond between the sisters. Also, I’m not sure if this is intentional, but I definitely felt like I was reading about The Little Mermaid. I am so happy you got to write a story for this week. I am excited to see what you post next time. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing this one.

    2. A story of a being wishing to be a human? I don’t see many of these stories nowadays! I can see you took some inspiration from The Little Mermaid, i like people writting stories on topics that have not gained enough recognition!
      I wish you the best of luck in painting this world.

  6. Norman Gray Avatar
    Norman Gray

    Pray The Water Takes You First
    By Norman Gray

    Drowning depths of the unknown,
    The sea will never quench your thirst.
    Whetted hunger, flesh from bone…
    Pray the water takes you first.

    Something evil beckons me.

    It whispers to those born of the sea, and though I am a land dweller, my lineage can be traced back to what lurks underneath the tides…

    Ever wonder where the drowned go?

    Such a comforting thought to believe that nothing becomes of the dead. But what awaits below has an insatiable greed, far in excess of its appetite…

    Long lost souls, breathe the water
    Lighthouse leading ghosts ashore.
    Singer, butcher, songs of slaughter,
    Shattered hulls and broken oars.
    Shipwrecked upon haunted rock;
    Now the dead will share their curse.
    Honored guests, a feast of flesh…
    Pray the water takes you first.

    I fear that Siren’s will soon part from the unmapped corners of the world, and lead men in droves like lambs to slaughter… Plundered, just as we have plundered the sea. Pulled into the waiting arms of a creature from the depths, one that laments those who live in the light.

    Underwater, the smell of blood,
    Travels faster than the cries.
    Oceans rise into a flood,
    Hidden tears below the tides…

    My songs are changing. My melodies have become grim, foreboding glimpses of what calls to me from the deep. It’s all I can imagine, now.

    Sometimes… I think it sees inside my mind, and it knows what I am. It knows that I do not belong. I fear that it borrows my eyes and watches the gathering crowds, so easily lulled by song… And its hunger grows.

    In the darkness, gathered dead
    The night has never been so long…
    Man to meat, drowning dread.
    Now they sing the Siren’s songs.

    The naïve masses hang on my every word. They hear my haunting notes, and believe this to be a creative reinvention, rather than a premonition.

    They applaud. They know not what they cheer for.

    A thousand mouths, a million limbs,
    Squeeze the vessels ‘til they burst.
    Once it has you in its grasp…

    Pray. Pray the water takes you first.

    1. Norman Gray Avatar
      Norman Gray

      This was intended as a sequel/companion piece to this story from a few weeks ago:

      https://thetalefoundry.com/2023/01/17/writing-group-myths-and-mommies/#comment-28316

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Ok, I love that one. I had read the comment before reading it, so I knew it was a sequel… but I am pretty sure I’d notice it when I get to the third paragraph, regardless of any warning.

      And I love how well weaved the prophecy/song and the terrible thoughts of the protagonist is.

      The song working as the thing that we follow and drives the story forward is very thematically fitting. Moreover, it is really well written, and the sense of foreboding is great. The musings of the narrator helps in making it even more ominous, and provides us with all the necessary context to make sense of it all and truly feels what this is all about.

      And it works perfectly as a stand alone, and even better with the additional information we get from reading the prequel. Doing sequences is quite difficult, in my opinion, since more often than not they might end either disjointed or turn each part into a prerequisite to enjoying the other. Here, I guess you hit the best spot possible. Both are great stories on their own, and together they paint an even greater picture.

      Great work, Norman. Thanks for sharing.

  7. Reinkarnitor Avatar
    Reinkarnitor

    Fall of the castle

    by Reinkarnitor

    The bay was still, the moon shined beautifully, reflecting along with the stars in the sea. It was peaceful…but then…suddenly a deep roar was heard, the water started foaming and then finally parted as a monster rose from the deep. It opened its mouth with sharp fangs.

    The terrifying scene was looked upon by people in a castle, which was built on a cliff, falling deep into the ocean below. They screamed and ran for their lives, but it was no use. One swing of the monsters giant arms, it’s paws set with claws as big as a tower, was enough to bring down the entire castle, and everyone with it.

    It was over. The beautiful castle was no more, and the monster made a sound which almost sounded like a terrible, mocking laugh.

    “Muhahaha! Puny humans, you can’t best the vampire of the sea!” Fiona laughed.
    John, who sat next to her on the beach, shook his head. He looked up to the moon. When Fiona suggested to go to the beach, the boy was admittingly a bit excited. It may be a midnight swim, but that meant that nobody else was there to disturb them, so he did not really mind the time.

    Soon after they were done in the water, Fiona wanted to build a sandcastle, but before it was even fully finished she tore it down again, not being happy with its size.

    Well…that may have gotten a bit out of hand, because what was supposed to be some simple sandcastle building then quickly became a constant roleplay of Fiona the sea vampire, tearing down the miserable humans little castles.

    “Fiona, why don’t we build a new castle, and this time you don’t break it down?”
    “Hm…but I am the sea vampire!” She sneered. “Why should I not?”

    John grinned at that. “Because I would like to build a castle for my vampire princess instead.”

    Fiona blushed…all of a sudden all her outgoing and smug spirit were gone.

    “Alright…” she whispered with a small smile. “I’ll let you build me a castle then.”

    1. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      This was really cute. I’m a bit confused about the ages here though. Fiona is clearly a small child, but I can’t really gauge John’s age. Sea vampire is such an adorable little monster that makes little sense in context without tapping your inner child, and that’s great.

      I do have to wonder how they got past their parents to play on the beach at midnight.

      1. Reinkarnitor Avatar
        Reinkarnitor

        I have written a few prompts about these two. Fiona is a vampire, sometimes childish, but very old and can also act mature, do not worry.

        And John is human, and to ease your mind, of legal age.

        So yeah…if you you look at a few of my last prompts, many are about this couple, and once you read them you’ll realize that you have interpreted it a bit wrong.

        But no worries, that’s what the comments are for, to explain unclear details ^^

    2. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This one was really cute and lovely. I like how you combined both the emotional wave part of the prompt and the literal water wave into the story. There’s not much to say here, really. It’s just a good story.

      Good job!

  8. Iskritt Avatar

    Sounds of the Sea

    By: Iskritt

    As a Merfolk, Jol’s senses were incredibly sensitive to the environment around him. Normally, the allowed him to communicate with other Merfolk across long distances and feel the movements of prey before he ever needed to see them. However, an unfortunate side effect of this was that he could always tell what was happening on the surface, no matter how far below it he was. If it was raining, he could feel the ripples created across the ocean’s surface. Dolphins jumping in an out of the water crashed into his ears just as powerfully as they crashed back into the water, and the Landfolk’s machines shoving themselves though massive amounts of water was practically sensory overload as it passed by.

    Now, however, he was feeling something he never had. It had started with the approach of another machine, and Jol had prepared himself for the minutes of discomfort that would accompany its presence. But that is not what happened.

    Suddenly, the machine disappeared from his senses, and was soon replaced by a constant pulse of a much weaker disturbance. While Jol was initially grateful for the relief from the machine, this different wave of sound penetrating through the water to his ears soon became just as irritating, and it wouldn’t stop. Jol sat on the ocean floor, peacefully waiting for the sound to end, but it never did.

    Eventually, he decided to investigate. He swam up towards the surface, wincing as the irritation grew and grew as he drew closer to it. When he reached the surface, he saw something odd. Two Landfolk were standing in one of their machines, although it was one of the smallest ones he had seen, and moving extremely energetically as a loud noise sounded from a small device between them.

    “Hey, can you stop?”

    The Landfolk stopped their movements and turned towards Jol, looks of shock on their face.

    “Did you hear me?”

    One of them broke out of their surprise and nodded their head silently, before pain filled Jol’s senses as the machine sped away.

    Jol sighed, and dove back into the Sea.

    1. Lunabear Avatar

      Seems like a story with an environmental message behind it, although I don’t know if that was your intention. Either way, this was an enjoyable piece, Iskritt. I love when supernatural and mythical creatures are casually mentioned so that it feels normalized and we get used to how they see our world and what their world is actually like. A lot of fun sensory details.

      Jol is simply enjoying being a Merfolk, and I like the glimpse into his home and life. Ocean waves are a classic for a reason, and I believe you’ve written them well.

      I do find it interesting that the men with the machine stop and leave just because they were asked to. It is mentioned that they showed surprise, but did they simply leave because they were asked to, or are they returning? Were they being polite? Just something I was wondering about.

      Critiques:

      Normally, the(y) allowed him to communicate with other Merfolk across long distances

      Dolphins jumping in an(d) out of the water crashed into his ears just as powerfully as they crashed back into the water

      Overall, this is a nice story. It feels like slice of life, which I quite love. I am excited to see what you have for next time. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing.

  9. Important
    By: Hastaw

    A little girl walked in the forest with no way in, no way out.

    She could only wear the white nightgown, the only clothing she wore for who knows how long. She was dirty, but she didn’t care; the little one had friends today.

    Only the whites of her eyes shone because the light brought pain. She hated the day. “Hello?” she would say. She couldn’t make herself heard, so speak a little louder they might’ve heard.

    “Who’s there?” they would say. Having no way of knowing, she echoed, thinking it was a game. “Who’s there?”
    “Hello?”
    “Hello?
    The boys would scream a little louder.
    “Hello!”
    She would scream a little louder.
    “Hello!”
    They could hear a little giggle amidst the whispers of the wind.

    She could not see, so she had found them by their screams. She only heard their footsteps running away as she screamed incoherently at them, thinking it was all part of the game.

    She occasionally went into the nearby town, but no one seemed interested. She tried asking for help, but no one took her in. She saw this one man, but it gave her a sickened feeling.

    She wandered in the woods once again, waiting for new friends. A wave of smells hit her nostrils. She was curious, because she never remembered a smell quite as vivid as this one.

    She went into a big house, with beautiful, polished wood paneling. And a hard, shiny surface she had never seen before.

    She found the source of the waft. It was soup. Right there was the man, with a big, creepy grin on his face. She remembered the boat, his hands, his voice and most importantly: his shotgun. Images poured in, tears streamed down, and knees hit the floor. “Why?” The little girl said.
    “Because I’m not a good person.”
    She looked at him. He looked at the shotgun.
    “Pick it up.”
    She saw him crying.
    “No.”
    “I said-“
    “And I said no! I don’t care.”
    “You can’t even let me pay for my actions. Pathetic.”
    “N-n-nooo.” She mouthed quietly to herself.

    1. That is a pretty dark and even creepy story. Something very bad happened to a poor girl. And while I like dark ominous stories, there are a few things that bothered me. First of all – if the forest is “no way in, no way out” – how could she visit the village, or how could anyone bother her there? Second, what is a supposedly big beautiful house doing amidst the woods? Third, what was man doing – cooking soup with a shotgun? I found myself asking those questions while reading, so it was a little bit baffling.
      Few more things to note, that are not critique but rather a praise. I like how in the echoes part, you write “the boys would scream a little louder” and then the same with her: “she would scream a little louder”. Even in the narrator’s words, the writing echoes, and I think it’s a lovely detail. I also like the premise of the conflict between the morality, and what would be right or wrong in this situation, there at the end.
      I was confused by the story, the plot itself, but reading it was pleasant, the descriptions were well-paced and words well-chosen. So, with a bit more clarity on what is happening, that story would be even more awesome.

      1. Yeah, sorry. I knew it would be confusing, but I didn’t care. I was really tired, but like, that’s when all stories seem to come out of their hiding place. Like, I know I feel like dying rn, but this story is kinda too good to not write down(plus it was very last minute). I cringe sometimes at the stories I write.

  10. Ethan Jesse Avatar
    Ethan Jesse

    Of Oceans We Hate

    By EnderEthan

    Through years and through toils has the king among men slumbered below, down beneath the waves of vast seas untold. Waters, wine-black, that stretch across nations, that separate those of men, waters which swallow and spit throughout the night. It is there, beneath the waves, that the old serpent rests, who slumbers and aches against the gentle cooling wake. Each breath is of spite, every tide pulling back, and when the hour of slumber wanes and forgets, the day of the snake shall come once again.

    I have seen him, this serpent, that king of the night, and know well his plight of angels and deacons. Fangs, greater still, than diamonds and stone, and coils of mass hold men by their throats. That serpent which rests above his own kin, where kingdoms and ruins are held as his domain. Never to be challenged, the serpent surely grins, in his lands without folly or breakings in time.

    As men, our necks strain, to see the scraps of an empire. To see worlds, to see demons, to see fires, to see pain. But to him, that king, they are worldly, all too the same. Then what a pity we are, one which he loves all the more, as something small, something weak, some subjects for the king.

    O serpent, O demon, O great king of the sea, through what power and might do ye remain underneath? What keeps you there, in the wake beneath the waves, abid of the skies, the landmarks, and the light? O, of oceans we hate, of kingdoms we fall, of serpents we know, and of angels we fear. Of those blessed, those lit, of they there above. O, what a pity to the snake, that silly little thing, who knows of great waters, but never their mass! What a pity to the people, who fear his great fangs, and what a pity to the lord who awaits their dear plight! Of feathers he’ll covet, of kingdoms he’d known, of demons he’ll stand, of oceans we’ll hate!

    1. I love the prose! It’s giving off Beowulf vibes, without killing the originality of the piece. I love the language you used, and how you describe the serpents fangs. Also, I enjoy the allegory of people and how kingdoms work. Also, the way you gave these seemingly unrelated things a relationship in the prose is amazing. Love the story.

  11. Breathe (Eularia’s Perspective)
    by Curry

    Do you remember the old tales of wonders? Conquering the skies, multiplying seeds to till countless fields, moving mountains – all those myths about what humanity could accomplish if people prayed to the right gods or wrote the cleanest karma record. If you were humble enough, you’d get promoted to the post of superior saviour. I always hated them.

    There is no fairness in hurting, no price in suffering. My pain gets more numbing every day and I don’t have the luxury of dreaming about wonders that will never happen. Neither have you. I am the thorn in your side and we both know it. Every time something slips from my weakening grasp, you patiently gather up the pieces – but I can see the holes they pick in your heart. You’re growing weaker the stronger you need to be, lovingly wasting away for me. I always hated myself for being like this.

    But there is one fairy tale I truly like: it’s about a girl who learned to breathe underwater because she befriended a fish. The only time we genuinely share one world is when being submerged by another one that we’re not born into. Life’s ironic like that. This trip right now means so much more than going for a swim, even more than a weekend of quality time spent far away from the fumes of the city.

    Those soft waves can lift my dead weight from your shoulders, as they help me glide without my useless legs. Being on eye level with you. No struggling to stand because we both can drift instead. For once, the numbness in my hands is being tickled away by playful ripples while our fingers connect. In this cool embrace I can dive for my love: for you as well as myself. This is what it should feel like. Lightness, warmth, and strength – beneath the waves I can inhale the beauty of our lives. I don’t need to wait for a miracle. I have it right here.

    1. Lunabear Avatar

      This is an incredibly sweet story, Curry. It’s also quite philosophical and can be read as allegory, almost for suicide. However, I love the hopeful ending. Not choosing to wait for a miracle but making one for yourself instead is a very powerful message, and I believe more people should embrace it. Another thing I really enjoy about this piece is how the narrator professes love for another as well as themselves. It’s truly heartbreaking and scary how many people don’t have love for themselves these days, and I think that’s another powerful message.

      I don’t know if the fairy tale was supposed to be about The Little Mermaid, but that is the vibe I got from this. I love how you describe the waves as finding a world where both can belong. Even without specific descriptions that usually describe waves, it’s still very vivid. This piece is so light and heartwarming. It’s beautifully written, as well. I don’t recall reading anything else by you, but I could have simply missed your other submissions. I am excited to see what you have next time. Thank you so very much for writing and posting this.

      1. Thank you so much, Luna! I’m super happy that the story got to you on an emotional level and that the ending sounded happy despite the bleak beginning. I wasn’t aware of the allegorical reading but that would fit very well. The tale was not a specific one but I definitely get why you got the vibes of The Little Mermaid!
        I’m usually not writing regularly, so it’s very likely you didn’t read my few other contributions. Thank you very much for taking the time!

  12. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
    Matthew R. Wright

    Into the Darkness
    By Matthew R. Wright

    10:00PM. 10 degrees Celsius.

    Wetsuit. Regulator. Mask. BCD.

    2 miles from the shoreline. 25 minutes a mile. 2 hours there and back.

    I enter the water from a nearby beach. Must be alone. Must not be seen.

    Result-driven. Consequences be damned. I swim towards the direction of the boat. Towards them.

    Just another example of my dedication. I DO NOT HAVE TO DO THIS. Just want to prove a point.

    Night provides the darkness. Waves provide the cover. I hide beneath them.

    I move forwards. Stroke by stroke. Closer. Closer. The ocean is calm. But I am not.

    The week’s events loop in my mind without interruption:

    – Hardwork not recognised.
    – Overlooked for nepotism.
    – Was pruned. Long-term but low-level.
    – “To cut costs” Boss says.
    – Boss can “cut” his wrists.

    Reach boat in under an hour. Really pushing.

    I wait. I listen.

    His family sleeps. It’s time.

    I move onto the deck. Through to the cabins. Slowly. Silently. Step – by – step.

    Hardly moving. Hardly breathing.

    Find first the youngest. Sleeping alone. I ignore the others. I enter his room.

    Boy is 9. Deep sleeper. I gently lift him. Keeping the covers. Keeping the heat.

    Outside deck is cool. A gentle breeze. Boy remains asleep. I check my mask. Still tight.

    I slip under the waves. Into the darkness.

    Cold jerks him awake. Eyes wide. Tries to move. Trapped inside my grip.

    30 seconds.

    Fully submerged. No change to gain breath.

    He struggles. He strokes. He kicks. He fights.

    I remain still. I remain focused.

    60 seconds.

    We sink further from the surface. No light to see. No family to help.

    His cries release the last of his air.

    I hum a gentle tune.

    90 seconds.

    His stroke speed decreases. Unconscious. Respiratory arrest.

    He stops moving in my arms. I let go.

    No chance of revival.

    120 seconds.

    Boy remains in-place. Resting beneath the surface.

    Point made.

    I turn.

    2 hours to return to shore.

    No time like the present.

    He took my potential.

    My future.

    I took his son’s.

    1. Thank you for your story! I am a bit taken aback from how I enjoyed it despite the character being not likeable to me at all. Their stone-cold stubbornness is written really well, they surely are not a good person and they are definitely not one to mess with. It makes me uncomfortable how ‘easy’ this perspective makes it seem to take a life, and due to the short-spoken style it’s not even horrible to me. I find myself slipping into exactly the same cold mindset and I do not like it – in a good way. It’s believable and it matches the logbook-like way of jutting down phrases to remember the absolute bare minimum. Everything else is shut off, no empathy or reflection, just cold rage and vengeance.
      I think the ‘list’ could’ve been even shorter, to underline this sentiment of clinging to the smallest bits and visually distinguish it even more from the rest of the text.
      I liked the rhythm of this piece, its regular like wave pounding and goes very well with this well-planned action.

  13. IntenseSpooks Avatar
    IntenseSpooks

    The Waves of Hatred:
    By IntenseSpooks

    Did you know? Somewhere in this world is a great sea whose Waters are red like blood and boiling like a witch’s cauldron. There is where all people, good or bad, go to throw their tantrums, their frustrations, and their unfilial wrath.

    Children scream that they hate their parents, and parents thrash at the water, punch, scream, and curse at their problems. Adults kill at the image of their asshole bosses, the elderly murder their own younger selves due to past mistakes and all that emotion sinks deep into its scalding shores. The oppressed go there to cry and pray for their revenge and the oppressor conveniently discards his guilt and humanity, making it so all the ardent bad of the world there resides. Even the lovers fight and throw their wine bottles and lamps at this sea and there, all accumulate until the end times.

    The emotions, anger, love, passion, hatred, and guilt swirl with the currents, crash with the waves and their strenuous battles create a resounding sound of growling fury… While deep within the waves something lurks… a monster that used to be ‘’human’’ but slowly changed upon bearing the emotions of an entire world.

    The prince of hatred, the sea of furry in itself shall tire of the never-ending sin of humanity, not the emotional waves themselves but the fact that men choose to throw them away, to not face them and slowly let them rise as a tsunami of inevitable reckoning.

    A catástrofe approaches, as a figure, rises from its boiling Waters for it is the monster we created, shaped in our own distorted image as adam was made in god’s.

    Its roar is so deafening that it pierces the eardrums of heaven as the sound waves, suffering, and anguish travel the world many times over with a cacophony of screams, annihilation, and death.

    That is the story of how the end of the world came to be at the hand of the beating heart of the sea that turned red with blood.

    1. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This is so cool! It’s like a modern religious myth in it’s structure, and I like the fact the end of the world will be come from humanity, and that all our unfaced, our repressed negative emotions will be the thing that causes humanity’s downfall. It’s like a cautionary tale you might hear from a psychologist to help you face your repressed desires.

      Good job!

    2. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
      Matthew R. Wright

      Such a fantastic concept for a flash fiction. A tale of these abused waters, red with blood, just being dealt these pains and frustrations and passions. Genuinely jealous of this. I love it. It’s water catharsis. The language is also beautiful. “guilt swirl with the currents, crash with the waves” Just fantastic! I also really enjoyed the apocalyptic ending, returning to the blood idea with the heart. Exceptionally entertaining. Well done.

    3. This is very interesting. People do tend to suppress their rage. I like the take on this prompt. It’s a beautiful, simple scene within thousands of people scream and you encapsulated all of that in this story. It’s very impressive, how the scenery has a relationship with the people that come to it. On top of that, it’s an end of the world story? Love that.

  14. WriterOfThought Avatar
    WriterOfThought

    Decision Pending
    WriterOfThought

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

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

    A knock on the door broke Jynn from her thoughts.

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

    Training time.

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

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

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

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

    “Father, I-”

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

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

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

    -But what if I’m not ready?-

    -What if I never will be ready?-

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

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

    -I know that.-

    -You already know that I know that-

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

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

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

    1. Aww Jynn’s so incredibly believable. All the words she thinks about saying without mentioning a bit of it – it really drives home the helplessness of not being listened to properly and being afraid in such a scenario. The future being this awkward mess no one can predict, and yet she has to decide on it. *sigh* I feel her. I love how you started with her trying to find insights in her favourite book, which makes her seem more desparate and lonely. I think I would’ve liked if you came back to the book by the end, to frame the day and maybe underline her mindset by letting her read it for the 101st time.
      Also, I apprechiate how you built an expectation with the meditation seeming like a way to find a solution – just to end with there still not being a clear way forward. It’s realistic and makes me sympathise with Jynn even more. The more you think about such great decisions, the more vague they become, which can really drown you. And indeed it can feel like a trance. Well done, thank you for this portrait!

  15. Strong Berry Avatar
    Strong Berry

    Visiting Uncle James
    By Strong Berry

    If there’s anything my uncle James taught me, it’s that knowledge and imagination are not necessarily blessings, and that ignorance is not necessarily a curse. Sometimes for your own good you need to be kept in the dark, or at least in light that doesn’t allow you to see.

    One afternoon, I went to visit him after school for help with my physics homework. To my surprise, the front door was open. Uncle James usually did not like to leave his house open, he always worried strangers might disturb him in his experiments and research. I went inside, and was greeted not by my uncle, but by silence. This rose suspicion in me, since Uncle James told me he would greet me when I came. An open front door, now this… Did something happen to him?

    “Uncle?” I said to the room. “Uncle James?” I said again, louder. The answer didn’t come from the living room, but from below. A muffled, angry “OW!”. The basement. I rushed down the stairs, opened the basement door and saw… nothing. Again. But then I got startled by his voice. “Who-who’s there?!” The voice came from the left corner. I looked there, trying to see my uncle. “U-Uncle, it’s me, Rob. D-Don’t worry.”

    “R-Rob… Rob, my boy, your uncle sure got himself in a pickle this time.” Said the left corner with sadness. I was starting to get scared. “Uncle, w-what happened to you?” The left side of the room let out a deep sigh. “You see, Rob… I decided to try and become invisible and, unfortunately, I… I succeeded.”

    I was confused. Usually my uncle was sad about failed experiments, not successful ones. “Wh-what do you mean?”

    “I now do not reflect nor absorb any light waves visible to the human eye. This means I cannot be seen, but it also means no light can enter my eyes! Such a kind and caring uncle you got, my boy, he spared the world the ugly sight of this pathetic, foolish, utter failure of a scientist!”

    1. Shinigama Avatar
      Shinigama

      I love that twist! I remember watching a video about the science of superpowers and this was exactly what they mentioned! Great addition of real-world science to this science-fiction story.

      I especially love the foreshadowing in the second line (“…in light that doesn’t allow you to see.”). I definitely didn’t see the twist coming.

      Very well done!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Well, well, well…

      I didn’t see that coming (pun intended).

      This is a very interesting story, and in the surface level, it deals with those pesky questions about strange phenomena and superheroes we usually don’t try too hard to rationalize. But the thing that really makes it shine is the build up, and the way the narration works more as a life lesson or a lament than a tragedy.

      That first paragraph, in particular, is exceptional. It hooks us right in. And I don’t know if there is a maxim more honest than “ignorance can be a blessing” – every time I hear or read it, I’m flooded with examples, so I’m already inclined to see another one.

      I do feel the last lines broke a little the structure of the story. It is not a bad ending, but the last sentence feels a little too self-indulgent – speacilly considering how the foreshadowing appeared more subdued – and even then, more impactful. Regardless of that, it was a great story with a great build-up.

      The transit between different registers (musings on what life and the experience of others has taught the narrator, the action and mystery building of the central part of the story, and even a short lament to wrap it all up) is an outstanding accomplishment, specially considering the word limit.

      Really nice story here!

  16. Beneath the Waves, Below the Tides
    by Weiss

    The old Canary decelerated rapidly till, Kurt stopped the engine. Whatever Venus Intergalactical says about their products, this tin can won’t hold together a single ride more.

    He jumped on the cold rocks of the surface, and opened his luggage module. Checked with the map. Figured he was at the right place. Finally turned his back, and to his gaze opened a vast monotonous field, same colour as the rocks Kurt stood on. But there was a difference. It was moving. A giant desert full of sand waves, constantly shifting, spinning and spiraling. Kurt’s eyes laid upon the dunes sneaking around treacherously, waving back and forth, almost reaching his feet.

    He was there to find atrenium. Others said huge vein lies in a complex system of caves beneath this sandsea. Kurt’s Explorer’s license gave him certain responsibilities.

    As if to spite him, Kurt’s contemplations upon this wonder of Venusian nature were interrupted. His Canary started automatically unpacking the luggage. He quickly pushed himself into a diving suit – which also didn’t seem that trustworthy. After gearing up, he approached the very rim of the flowing sands. Next moment Kurt spotted something. He squinted. Sure enough – a small sandshark was drilling through the masses of desert hills.

    Kurt let the animal approach. Sandsharks don’t attack humans. In fact, they never leave the depths of this place. Why did this one change its mind?

    Minutes after, the answer to this question became apparent. Kurt noticed a piece of glass in the sandshark’s jaw. He kneeled, caught the poor thing and gently removed it – it was clearly stuck, making the life of this creature much more difficult.

    To Kurt’s surprise, the glass in his hand had a shape of a bottle. Like one from Venus-Cola, or Pepsi-Mars. He removed a lid. A small piece of parchment fell on his glove. The writing was unclear – Kurt couldn’t even say for sure what language is this. He was certain about one thing – whoever wrote this message – needed help.

    Kurt quickly pulled on his mask, turned on his night vision, and dove after the sandshark.

    1. The grammar could have used a bit more work overall, there’s a few weird commas and the structure of some sentences is a bit wrong.

      The story itself intrigued me, I want to know more about the mechanics of sand that flows like water, is it fluidized? Is there a high pressure air vent system that’s airing the sand to make it possible for it to be used to swim? Or is the wind just so strong that it pushes everything around that much?

      It leads to very interesting Worldbuilding and makes me want to learn more about both the world and the characters in it.

  17. Chrono Avatar

    Gasp
    By Chrono

    The things we take for granted every day. A sweet smile, warm sunlight, even just fresh air. Oh how Curry missed the air. His eyes screamed in tune with his lungs before his head was pulled back above the water. There was screaming. Angry words, cruel demands. All barked at him by those silhouetted faces who stood around him.

    “WHERE’S THE SPOT AT, CURRY?”

    One of the figures shook him violently. His head hurt. He looked down at the water and saw his reflection staring sullenly back at him. His face was soaked, but he could see puffiness from tears he hadn’t noticed.

    “I-I don’t know what you mean… ple!–”

    He was cut off by cold sea water rushing down his throat. He choked and his body gasped for air, only inhaling more brine. What did they want? His mind seemed to fade in and out. Memories of another boy. His captivating smile, that enchanting laugh, the soft smell of sea breeze and his soap. They had laid that crown to rest under the lone palm. The tree flashed before his eyes, as it had been. Leaves rustling in the wind… air. He needed air.

    His head was tugged back above and he retched water.

    “I-it’s on the east coast. Under a palm tree all by itself… just– let me go.”

    The figure patted him on the back as harsh as he laughed. “There we are. Was that so hard?”

    The group began walking east. Curry wheezed, but slowly hobbled his way towards the sunbathed shore, the other side of the island. There lay a palm tree, painfully alone. The crashing waves tore at its roots, but it stood resolute.

    Nothing can stand forever, though.

    Before he knew what he was doing, Curry was digging at the sand by those roots. His fingers reached something smooth and cool. He pulled loose an aquamarine circlet. He placed it upon his own head and it glowed.

    Curry relished the waves of heat from the burning sun one last time.

    Where once lied an island, now only the sea knows.

    1. Xavier21 Avatar
      Xavier21

      I thought this is going to be a story about bully LOL.

      The good parts of the story, I like how you depict someone who was drowned. Curry didn’t just “drowned” by the bully. But he also experiencing suffocation and flash back memories as if he really wanted to tell them, which he actually didn’t? (correct me if I am wrong). However, the critique here is that there are a lot of unexplained elements in the story. Who are the bullies? Why they after Curry? Why did the Aquamarine Circlet was with Curry in the first place, etc. You can explore the bully first after you explore the Aquamarine Circlet. If you can make it, you can chose to deepen the relationship between Curry and the bullies. Still these are suggestions, because of word limit.

  18. RVMPLSTLTSKN Avatar
    RVMPLSTLTSKN

    Such Things As Stars Are Made From
    By RVMPLSTLTSKN

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

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

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

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

    —these are such things as stars are made from.

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

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

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

    1. Xavier21 Avatar
      Xavier21

      Sadly the word count hindered you from finishing this story HAHA. If only there were more of this story.

      It’s really good that you write this story in fable-like tone even though you use sophisticated words. This piece also has it’s own tone that run smoothly with the overall parts of how you describe things. Once again I would like more explanations on the ending because I feel like you wanted to say something but because of the word count, you chose alternative ending, still great though.

      1. RVMPLSTLTSKN Avatar
        RVMPLSTLTSKN

        Thank you.
        The word count did hinder me a little, but ultimately the ending wouldn’t have changed. The twists and changes of stories are a measure of time for this immortal.

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, I love the Shakespearean reference/subversion.

      The whole thing about a search through time makes for a wonderful journey. An immortal necromancer, with a need to solve one doubt, to find something that marked her so profoundly it is the most important thing ever, walking the aeons after the birth of a sentence that ends a version of one story. Her immortality allows for her to spend her time doing it, walking more and more into the future (as is the nature of everything that exists in a time dimension) while searching for a past that stretches way back. And here, I can’t help but think that she sails in a tide of time.

      The language of it all is quite beautiful, as well.

      And that ending was great. There is a bit of a very poetic ambiguity, but I love that the story can be rewrote and in doing so keep going on. Stories, after all, are what the stars are made of. In a very narrative minded sense, stories are what all is made of – but stars (through their death) gives us the building blocks to make everything else. And here it might even be that stars are also born of stories, and those stories can echo after their deaths – and give rise to new stars.

      Who would thought a necromancer would be in a quest not for power, but understanding, and would have a hand in such a creative and poetic endeavor and making the stories of the stars to live on (and, perhaps, making the stars themselves live on through them?).

      I loved this one. Thanks a lot for sharing!

  19. Waves
    By Kenji

    The rays of sunlight touched my face. A slight warmth spread across my cheeks, quickly replaced by the cold feeling of the water surrounding me.

    I can see my friend looking for me at the surface, and I smile at him. It’s probably time I swam up, he must be getting worried by now.

    His face broke the surface, and looked around for a while until he saw me, and he swam down towards me.

    I kept smiling at him while he swam, and then I saw two more people jump in behind him, quickly following him. A tinge of red started to trail from my head, tinting the world around me in color.

    Bubbles keep floating up, and the rays of light can’t reach me anymore with the boat’s shadow cast over me. My body keeps sinking as the warmth no longer reaches me.

    It’s getting pretty cold though, maybe we shouldn’t get that ice cream after all.

    My eyes are feeling heavy now, and I can’t feel my arms anymore, despite seeing them to my sides. I can’t see him anymore. I can’t see anything anymore. The bubbles stop floating up, and I close my eyes. The noise around me comes to an end, the waves aren’t audible anymore, and I can’t feel the cold anymore.

    I open my eyes again, and I can see his face getting closer. I guess it’s getting a bit late. I find the strength to reach my hand up as he reaches me.

    You’ll get me, right? I trust you.

    The last of the sun’s light gets to me, and the world turns black.

    1. maggle Avatar

      First thing I noticed is that the majority of sentences started with “my” or “I”, and a solid chunk ended with “me”. Changing up sentence structure will do wonders for making the reading experience flow better – for example, “It’s getting pretty cold though, maybe we shouldn’t get that ice cream after all.” is much more dynamic than “My body keeps sinking as the warmth no longer reaches me.”

      That doesn’t take away from this being really immersive though, it definitely pulls on the emotions; the slow fading of everything is fantastic.

    2. Matthew R. Wright Avatar
      Matthew R. Wright

      This feels very personal, very conversational. As if you’re talking to someone, sharing this story with someone. I agree with Maggle, that it might be because of all of the I’s, that this impression comes across. The story is VERY brief, but I can see what you were going for. The language used DOES bring out the emotional side. “Feeling heavy, inaudible waves. The last of the sun’s light” all great images to being out that emotion. It just might need another pass with an editing tool, like Hemingway. Trim the fat, sizzle the good, you know? I enjoyed the piece regardless.

      1. My goal for this was mostly to make it look like the character was talking in their mind with the friend that jumped in behind them. But it appears my intentions didn’t come across that well, which was a shame.

        Thank you for your words though, I shall keep the advice in mind.

    3. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
      ThatWeirdFish

      Wow, this is a sucker punch! I love the slow descent into the depths of horror in this piece. I find the narration haunting as well because it comes across to me as one from a child. The matter-of-fact descriptions and the random thought about ice cream help convey this. Well done!

    4. Reinkarnitor Avatar
      Reinkarnitor

      So many different interpretations for this one. I love how vague it is while still telling a clear story.

      Is this in a persons mind, is he really sinking, is he just dreaming, or is it symbolical? Is it in the water, or is it a representation of death?

      I do not know but one thing I do know: Very nicely written!

      Thanks for that read Kenji ^^

  20. maggle Avatar

    Perception
    By maggle baggle

    You are nothing. Feel nothing.

    You have no mind to think. No voice to cry suffering.

    Your soul awakens, and slowly you become aware.

    First is a relentless pounding against your skin: pervasive and irregular. At first the feeling is reassuring, perhaps even comforting, but the incessant drumming of water on your surface soon becomes insufferable, painful. The second thing you become aware of is a crack of thunder, a massive sound that disperses outwards, desperate to reach the edge of your senses. Its last vestiges echo across your surface, still not quite gone before lighting strikes elsewhere, sending another wave of thunder rippling across your skin, expanding the world further. Third is a thunderstorm looming above you, sending down the mix of hail and rain and lightning that pounds and drums and cracks and echoes.

    Finally, you become aware of yourself: you are the ocean, strong and defiant and spanning the world. The waves that are your skin continue to be abused by the storm, but your perspective snaps into something grander, larger as the echoing thunder is now insignificant against your enormity. There is, perhaps, only one thing more massive, that just barely dances at the edge of your awareness and pulls at you ever so gently, coaxing you into motion. Beneath those shifting waves are creatures, currents, and stones: your blood, veins, and bones.

    And far beneath it all, trapped in a prison of slumber meant to be eternal, something waits.

    You are greater than it, surely, you who spans the world, who reaches deeper than any height and whos life has surpassed every living thing. And yet, this which is trapped far beneath your surface, pressed into the core of the earth by all the force you wield, feels far greater than all you could ever fathom.

    Thunder cracks.

    The currents shift.

    A single eye opens, violet hue swirling with rageful presence.

    1. Xavier21 Avatar
      Xavier21

      Hmmmm first things first, I wanna praise you for your wide vocabulary. It is a goal of mine to be a writer who has a lot of vocabulary in both English language and my native one. I also like how you describe things in general in this story. It is very descriptive and and engaging, maybe with this voice you can make good actual short story. Lastly, of course your 2nd person POV. Not many people do that so I always appreciate one. I write one story once in 2nd person POV too.

      My only complain is that it has no plot in it, only sensory description and a little bit of world building in it (which you probably already knew).

    2. This almost feels like it should be a movie – very imaginative, easy to read, simple to paint in your head as you go on. Not an easy thing to achieve, and I applaud you for that. Your choice of words is quite remarkable as well.
      I am not sure as to why something awakens and is transformed into an ocean, so I interpreted it metaphorically, which works very well for me.
      Two minor things I noticed and think worth mentioning, but are more of a nitpicks than a significant critique. The first one is the end of the fourth paragraph, where you have a pair of lists – 3 nouns and 4 verbs. I feel like making the lists of equal size makes it a bit more flowy, but this is my very personal opinion. The second has to do with the repetitions, especially in the end of the story. For example: the use of the word “far” in 6-7 paragraphs. It doesn’t stick out as much, but was still noticeable for me.
      Overall I enjoyed this quick read, it really pulled me into this short series of moments. Great job!

    3. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I’m quite impressed. And moved.

      This was beautiful. This was grand. This was sublime.

      This is, so far, the best one I read this week. I am not even sure if I can describe what has moved me so much, but I’ll try.

      There are at least three elements here that unavoidable hooks to my attention and my taste. I particularly like second person narrative, but saying it is it here would be to diminish something far grander. Making the reader be a consciousness that encompasses the entire ocean – and keep it a mystery for some time – this is quite compelling. The descriptions are incredible, and I love the choice of words you employ. There is something beautiful in them, but most of all, there is a sense of scale and connection that makes it all very surreal, while being very materially grounded.

      I don’t know remember if he was the one that came up with the expression or if he was commenting on something other author had mentioned, but Freud described the feeling of connection and membership in faith as the “oceanic feeling”, and after reading this one, well, I now think that term is quite apt.

      The other things I’d like to point out is how strange and at the same time how proper it seems that the story follows an awakening and a gain in consciousness that comes with what appears to be ancient knowledge. Something in it makes it even more credible (or, at least, more fantastically interesting to follow, which, in a sense, is another type of credibility for a story) that such an wide-encompassing being as the ocean would think in strange patterns (and, perhaps, its perception, auto-perception, consciousness and thoughts are a result of particular arrangements that come and go with its movements, like waves and tides that can bring perception into focus but also take it awat). This is very alien, and yet, the way it is described makes me believe it is happening – that’s how we think, and now I’m aware of the prisoner in the core of the planet…

      And the last thing is how surprising that revelation about the creature in the core is in the story. It is a bit of a space flea out of nowhere, but it fits the flow of the story and its tone of ever grander mysteries and gains in consciousness.

      And the final scene is a very fitting and dramatic way to end it.

      I just loved this one. Thanks a lot for sharing it.

  21. MasaCur Avatar

    Besieged
    By MasaCur

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “That’s stupid!” Ritsu replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

    1. Chaotic energy for the win!

      Love the cheerfulness and the sudden reveal that it’s all part of a game that they’re playing. It slightly undermines the tension before it, but in a good way that brings you relief, it ends up being a nice read and got a laugh out of me.

    2. At least I have chicken.

      I was curious what kind of fantasy world this was. And the whole talk of food and how Myoni didn’t give them any food is a nice clue/makes so much more sense after the fact.

  22. Symphony of the world.

    By Galer.

    Konaju closed his eyes and sat down, concentrating on listening to the sound around him. The cacophony of nature was beautifully mixed with the artificial noise of the city in the titan they lived, making the frequency unique.

    It was under these conditions that the experiment would be done, with Konaju being the test subject.

    “Please concentrate further,” asked Xufernas, the consciousness of the Titan Konaju live. ” I want to discover why part of the populace can hear this strange melody, then we can reproduce it in a controlled environment.”

    Konaju did as Xufernas said. He focused on going deeper than the surface sound, using his echokinesis. For a moment there was utter silence, like the world suddenly disappeared.

    Then he heard a hum, similar to electricity going between the metal.

    He swore there was a chime of aether itself, converting the atoms into more of the phantom matter.

    Followed by a sound of a Ternier counter – or rather what was associated with it, Radiation.

    In fact, that was the cue for Konaju to feel like he was entering the realm of the abstract, since this noise was man-made. Not produced by the substance itself.

    And there he was in a zone where sound started to get weird>, There were several disorienting melodies and sounds that were hard to describe by any tongue, let alone conventional vernacular, and then he found it a chant.

    A chant that was almost sacred, like the world itself was chiming with him. In an intimate way and just at its zenith, in a flash, he returned.

    “Wow.” Konaju opened his eyes, “That was interesting.”

    “What happened Konaju? What did you find?” asked the Titan in concern

    “I think I found our mystery frequency,” Konaju said, ” it is something deeper than sound.”

    “Hmmm. Just like before it seems not to have side effects,” Xufernas said. “W we should replicate it.”

    Konaju said, “I think is going to be of your and everyone’s liking”

    After all, who was he to deny the masses this worldly melody?

    Certainly not him.

    1. IntenseSpooks Avatar
      IntenseSpooks

      Wow, I really like the idea of a science lab researching a new sound, one so deep that it seems to call out for all of humanity. It reminds me of the Hindu concept of Aum (popularly known as OM), which represents the first syllables uttered by the universe at the dawn of creation. Keep up the great work!

  23. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
    MelancholicOtaku

    The Discovery

    By: MelancholicOtaku

    I don’t think we realize how mesmerizing the sea can be. My dear Ellie Oh, how I wish you could have joined me in this most splendid of nautical adventures. My grandfather used to tell me tales every night of a group of humans who evolved from land-dwelling creatures to become one with the waves.
    There are those who believe that we came from the sea; my grandfather was one of those individuals. He believed that one day we were destined to return.
     
    “Professor Nicholas, please come quick!” One of the sailors yelled out. If I remember correctly, the young lad was aboard his maiden voyage and eager to learn everything that I could tell him. I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at his wonder and desire to absorb every bit of knowledge that he could.
    “What is it, Milo?” I asked, closing my journal, waiting for whatever new discovery the young sailor wanted to show me.
    “Professor, after Wells and the rest of the diving team came back, they found something new and interesting, which I think you might want to take a look at.” Milo smiled.    I nodded and motioned for the lad to show me this newly discovered treasure.
    “Here, professor.”        Milo answered, giving me what looked like some type of rock. Although I took a second glance, I didn’t know exactly what I was looking at.
     
    It seemed to be some type of underwater fragment—perhaps it belonged to an ancient temple—although I am having a bit of trouble reading what it says. I can’t quite make out these strange symbols.
    “Milo, was anything else found?” I asked, still examining the precious artifact in my hand.
    “Not that I know off-hand, sir, say professor, what it is.” He asked as eagerly as ever.
    Looking over at the fragment slowly and carefully, I couldn’t help but wonder—a silly little theory, mind you—if the stories my grandfather used to tell me were based on lost facts that, over time, became the ingredient of a particular legend, one about a lost city deep beneath the waves.

    1. Xavier21 Avatar
      Xavier21

      Hmmmm I can’t help but to notice that your paragraph is a bit messy to a point that everyone will notice this. Maybe it is a literary device? Since I have seen your name somewhere I assume you are not new to this writing group.

      First things first, the first paragraph is great. I love how you give Professor Nicholas distinct character voice (that I people usually don’t implement to their story, the others are more of grand exploration of settings) that help to pull in readers to your story. I also notice that you use a lot more descriptive sentence to the dialog, which I have only seen in longer form of writing such as novel or actual short story, however I notice that this could hinder you from advancing the plot (I don’t hate the longer descriptive sentence, I actually enjoy it very much. It’s just that this form of writing is not fit for this flash fiction form). It is particularly hard to balance the plot and world building/character exploration in this medium, so I understand that your story feel like a serialized fiction (which you can also do that like the rest).

      Anyways, your story is still good because of your descriptive language.

  24. Sleepwalking
    By Pumpkin

    I open my eyes to the sound of the sea beating violently ahead.
    My gaze drifts down at my bare toes nestled in the sand.
    The wind tears at my nightgown and I tremble against the cold.
    As the salt water crashes down upon my feet I recoil.
    My heart skips a beat.
    I run back to the safety of my home.

    Under the waves, she sings to me
    With fiery hair and silver tongue
    She visits my dreams.
    She calls to me.
    This is the third time this month.
    Waking up at the edge of damnation.
    Her pull is getting stronger.

    I lock the door to my bedroom at night.
    Sleep in peace for a short time.
    Until I find I place the key in the same spot one too many times.

    The water presses on my legs like the cold hands of death.
    I look for the shore and find it behind me.
    Then something grabs me, pulls me back.
    I tumble and stumble down onto the shallow decline.
    The sea slaps me in the face but my eyes stay fixed upon the shore.
    To freedom.
    I dig my fingers into sand that’s cold as snow and drag myself desperately forward
    I refuse to let go.
    But I do cry out as her sharp teeth sink into my ankle’s flesh.
    It hurts like hell but now I do know where to find her head.
    I stomp at it, again and again.
    She’s nestled deeply in there but I’ll tear off my own foot if it means ever being dry again.
    The smell of blood floats on the breeze
    Then there’s a snap.
    I drag and crawl my way to dry land.
    Then home again.
    Bloodied, exhausted, but alive.

    But I know the war still isn’t won.
    Mermaids do not look for love.
    They don’t need their spouse to breathe or move.
    To her, I am nothing but a pretty figurine to add to her collection.
    Down in the depths where we don’t rot.
    Beautiful.
    Forever.
    I shudder.
    Then look for something to tie myself down to the bed.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This was fantastic.

      I love how, at first, we are lead to feel the narrator’s longing for what waits for him at the sea. It seems natural romantic, and even when it is outright stated that we are dealing with an unnatural obsession (a predatory obsession, at that), it is still difficult to shake that first impression.

      And then we are already hooked, ready to be dragged beneath the waves. Entranced by the siren’s song.

      I also love how musical the whole piece feels. This is already something I’d love in most stories, but in this one it is even more impactful, since the whole thing is a journey (a dark one, still a journey) guided by song.

      And ending the way it does is dreadful in the right amount. 10/10, would be entranced by the siren’s song again (though I only have two feet, can’t keep doing that).

    2. “Damn it Carol! You already the kids! What more do you want?!”

      This is a nice survival horror story. But what makes it more terrifying is that you don’t have control of your body when you’re sleeping, immediately endangering you to the clutches of a mermaid that probably lured you in with the promise of a PS5 and a vive.

      On second thought…YEET!

      Here’s a like!

  25. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
    ThatWeirdFish

    Secrets of The Deep
    By: ThatWeirdFish

    Juan was called over to the specimen tanks one too many times for his liking. His specialty lay in engineering, not biology. Show mild interest one time…

    “Have you seen anything like this?” Qui, on the other hand, was practically beaming as she waved him over.

    Juan rolled his eyes from the floor, past the tank to the ceiling, before meeting her eyes. “It’s a big octopus. So?”

    “Ah! But notice the texture of its skin!” She leaned close and pointed to a patch behind the animal’s eyes. “It’s got scales exactly the same as the feeder fish we were feeding it.”

    “Let me get this straight, you pulled me away from critical repairs because of an alien octopus doing its thing?”

    “Well, yes, but-”

    Juan cut her off with an upraised hand. “Save it for your nerd clan when they get back from the reef.”

    Qui’s protests withered into a moan of frustration as the lab door hissed shut in her face. She clomped to the specimen tank and picked up a tissue sample retrieval gun.

    “Sorry to do this to you, but some people need more proof it seems.” She grumbled as she lifted the lid to the tank.

    Without warning, a tentacle lashed out and latched onto her face. Her gun misfired, the nozzle clanging on the tank wall suddenly enough to startle the creature into letting go.

    Qui staggered back shakily, pressing a hand to the painful cuts on her cheek. Her heart fell into her stomach when her eyes met the octopus’s… no… her eyes staring back at her. It took a couple disjointed smacks to shut the tank lid and lock it.

    “Qui? You alright in there?” Juan called over the intercom.

    “I think we should let Specimen 10 go.” Qui replied, unable to look away. “It… um… is diseased.”

    “You don’t sound very confident.”

    “Trust me, we…,” Qui found breathing easier the further away she walked. “We don’t need to know about everything down there.”

    “That’s a first.” Juan sighed. “Do you need me to get a bucket?”

    “Please.”

    1. That’s quite the shock Qui experienced, it seems, if she is already wanting to let the specimen go. Either that or she has the incredible foresight to see that experimenting on a shape shifter can have dire consequences.

      I can see Qui’s fascination with the creature (who I assume is Manyshape or a member of the same species), but she still seems prepared to hurt it for scientific progress or even just for show. At least she apologized first. Her heel-turn at the end does interest me, though. Was Manyshape being telepathic or is Qui just really scared?

      Well done!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      An octopus that can mimic features of other creatures (and I’m assuming here that it gets the necessary information to replicate the features of others either through touch or by consumption, considering the examples we got are from what they last fed on and the person they just drew blood from…), and the story just implies the more terrifying implications on the creature. It is an alien creature, right. And it is being studied.

      How much do the scientists already know – and how much they presume they know? Is the replicating effect just a camouflage thing, or does they get more functional characteristics as well? And, a more terrifying thought, could it replicate emotions and thoughts, maybe memories?

      The possibility that it has complex sentience – either an original one they are not considering to begin with or one created through mimicry after replicating Qui’s eyes…. This has a lot.

      Qui might have been affected by a lot of things, and I really like that it is not state outright what dawned on her when she saw her own eyes on the octopus face. This maintains the mystery, but also allow for us readers both to theorize on what it could be and to project the kind of experience that would make us want to see the creature free. Is it empathy? Fear? Dread? Recognition? Guilt?

      This is a very interesting take on the prompt. The creature probably came from beneath the waves, but there is also the waves of metamorphosis (and we don’t know what really lurks beneath it) and emotions (which we also don’t know), and the whole mystery. I’m not even sure if the creature had an octopus shape to begin with… maybe that’s just another thing it is also mimicking.

      Great tale!

    3. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
      MelancholicOtaku

      Ahh the wonders of the deep blue sea ,learning and discovering new creatures that one has never seen before.The creature that Qui has found is it alien in nature or something that scientists haven’t discovered yet.I also enjoyed the relationship between Qui and Juan like they’ve been working together with each other for awhile. All in all this story is fascinating.

    4. From what I’m understanding, the octopus appears to be a shared shifter, and took the shape of her eyes when it touched her face, which would have probably been a very shocking experience if there was no precedent.

      At the end I’m not quite sure what she wants the bucket for, and it does seem a bit sudden that she decided to get rid of the octopus right after one incident happens, instead of just being even more careful and motivated than before.

    5. IntenseSpooks Avatar
      IntenseSpooks

      I really like this story; its curious researcher trope is well done and shows its uncanny teeth with the finding that the alien octopus can mimic everything it eats, including humans, and the idea that what stares back at the researcher is his very own eyes has a tinge of body horror that I truly appreciate. Keep up with the great work!

  26. Boople Avatar

    Drowning
    By: Boople

    His breathing was slow enough to match the tide of the beach. A moment ago there was a glorious sunset, one to rival any painting or picture. But now that the fiery sky had passed, all that was left was the cold night, not even the stars were out yet. All there that was there was water, sand, darkness, and a poor husk of a man curled up on the beach.

    As the water churned and crept its way up the beach the broken man sunk deeper and deeper into his own abyss. Each breath he fought back tears, each wave reminding him of what he lost. An ocean of regrets lay before him, and by now the corpses on his consciousness were bones lost under the tide.

    If only he hadn’t started this, If only he hadn’t followed through, If only he’d paid attention on the plane, If only he’d waited, if only…

    Again and again his thoughts spiraled him further down, farther away from food and life. Closer to the sea. All of the what if’s and ‘could have been’s had been torturing him for days now, and when his feet met the ocean he almost felt a bit of comfort. Maybe if he joined the plane under the water, maybe if he joined bodies being slung by the current, that might just be enough to repent. At least he wouldn’t be starving anymore, at least it would all be over.

    As the hours passed and the ocean rose there was only sand to be met by the moon.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, I like this one.

      I specially like how poetic your language is in this. The description of a calming and beautiful place, the magnificence of the sunset giving place to the night, the sadness, regret and looping thoughts of a man crushed by guilt…. all those moments/feelings/paintings were carefully weaved together into a contrasting whole where the language experience carries us and makes it all feel incredibly vivid.

      And that ending line was the poetic image to end this. This is a perfect example on how not showing the thing, but creating a great image that encapsulates the whole, is a great technique to employ. This was really powerful.

      There are a few small things I’ve noticed. The story is quite short, and if I’m not mistaken, it is just a few words shy from getting to the lower limit of the word count. It is rare that we got stories that would be disqualified of being chosen by being under the lower limit, so this was a little odd to notice. That being said, this makes nothing to diminish the quality of the tale… I’m just pointing out that it felt a little bit odd.

      And in the “If only”paragraph, I believe there are some words missing, particularly in the third sentence. Maybe complementing it could boost the word count towards the eligibility range?

      I love how the ocean was used in different stories. I am particularly fond of this use. It is setting, character and conveyor of emotions. A central piece that connects all (the images, the element of guilt, the climatic and dramatic decision…), and its different appearances through the descriptions carry a lot of nuance.

      Amazing tale! Thanks a lot for sharing it.

      1. Boople Avatar

        man I come back and your awesome ass comes in here and writes a review longer than the damn story, I wouldn’t have it any other way though.

        also thank you for the warning on it being too short I forgot there was a small limit too

    2. MelancholicOtaku Avatar
      MelancholicOtaku

      This what the our character went thru has to be terrifying.Knowing that you are going to die and become one with the sea. The sea this being that can be calm and collected , beautiful and a wonder to look at. Then out of nowhere it becomes this being of destruction ,dragging you into this unknown never ending abyss. The shortness of breath and how absorbed I became with the story really amazing.
      I also liked how the character reflected on what brought them to this point and wonder what they would have done differently.

    3. Ya know what? No.

      No. I’m not gonna.

      Clearly there is a lot of backstory or context to this, and normally, I’m all about that. Give me the lore. Tell me EVERYTHING. But no. Not this time. Not doing it. Whatever lead to this? Don’t wanna know. It can stay in the background, unsaid and unheard. Leave it wherever he went and or where the bodies were left.

      Beautiful story though.

      1. believe it or not I made this up on the spot, I wanted a character to drown in their emotions and I just kinda made a scene aronud that idea.

        there is no backstory and I will not explore it. I’m proud of this piece for getting me to write a story again after too long of doin nothing. so the history of this story will forever be incredibly vague, frankly bc I have no clue what happened either!

    4. The application of drowning was wonderfully for emotional and literal reasons.

      What I like most about it is that it’s not said whether he got up and walked into the ocean to drown himself or waited for the tide to take him. Though I assume the tide took him because he was malnourished and didn’t have the energy to do it himself, and the hours going by in the last sentence was a hint that as well.

      But regardless, this was a good story and I enjoyed it. Take this like.

  27. Shinigama Avatar
    Shinigama

    Das U-Boot
    by Shinigama
    Content Warning: Suicide

    Day 13:

    We sink and sink… the hull wails and moans from the pain. We cannot restore the submarine’s power. Kapitänleutnant Prochnow tried to contact the surface, friend, foe, anyone, but received no response.

    To think we were in safe waters…

    It happened four hours ago. We noticed an unusual signal on the radar, too fast for an enemy ship, too large for a submarine. Closer it came, ignoring all of our warnings.

    And then it hit us.

    Metal shrieked as the freezing tentacles of the sea burst in, trying to drown us. We managed to stop the flow… but as we descend further into the abyss, I fear it won’t be long before the hull gives way completely…

    Day 14:

    We just now hit the bottom. The depth gauge broke long ago – who knows how deep we sit beneath the waves. Nobody responds to us – restoring power is our only option.

    To think the hull has lasted this long; maybe a testament to our nation’s fine engineering.

    Or maybe fate is laughing at our iron coffin of despair…

    Day 17:

    Tap, tap, tap…

    Those three gentle taps again, echoing over the creaking of the hull. Each time they ring out, another man drops to his knees with insanity.

    Obermaschinist Leder hung himself; Prochnow had to shoot Richter as his madness turned violent.

    We’ve given up trying to restart the sub…

    Day 20:

    Tap tap tap…

    They tore Prochnow to pieces, like savages. They would have ripped me apart too, had I not sealed myself in the captain’s quarters.

    Tap tap tap…

    They bang and cry from behind the door. The air is hot, and I feel dizzy.

    Tap tap tap…

    The lights just went out; I write by headlamp.

    Tap tap ta-

    That noise! My ears – they’re on fire!

    I am thrown against the wall. The sub is rolling over and over.

    Even through my bloodied ears, I hear the dreadful screams from behind the door. Hear them, as we start to sink again…

    No, not sinking.

    Pulled. We are being pulled deeper and deeper…

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      This is interesting.

      I love the idea that not only they were pulled to as deep as they could, but that, at the end, that was just the first leg of the journey. A desperate week in which the lucky ones are probably the ones that died – where everything seem terrible, lost and unnerving…. and now the descent begins again. Will they be crushed by the pressure? Are they still even even beneath the sea, or is something even stranger going on?

      Chilling, either way. Dreadful.

      Reminds me a bit of some elements in Sunless Sea (specially the parts in which people are dealing with the horrors of the deep while submarine diving).

      Really interesting story.

      1. Shinigama Avatar
        Shinigama

        Glad you liked the story!

        I haven’t played Sunless Sea, but I’ll check it out. I was actually inspired by the Doctor Who episode Midnight, where the Doctor is trapped on a shuttle facing an assailant that never appears, only communicates by knocking.

        Oh, and also the movie Das Boot (hence my title and the Germanic characters)!

    2. This is some masterful horror. I am in awe.

      As far as apocalypse journals go, this is peak incremental terror. It just gets worse and worse whilst your poor protagonist is waiting to die.

      Though like most apocalypse journals, there’s a bit that shouldn’t be written AS it’s happening: “I am thrown against the wall” Lovely and visceral, no mistake, but also damn impossible to actually write during the event.

      At least you aren’t writing down their screams. That would be taking it too far.

      1. Shinigama Avatar
        Shinigama

        Thank you, I’m glad you liked it.

        Now that I reread it, you’re right, “I am thrown against the wall” probably wouldn’t make sense to write as it’s happening. Maybe “Thrown against the wall”? Or “I was just thrown against the wall?”

        Or maybe the protagonist is just a fast writer!

    3. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      Damn, this one was heavy. Straight up horror movie or game material. Just when you think the decent into madness and savagery by the crew members is over, they are being pulled further down, as if the real nightmare had just began. I like it, it makes it feel like the start of something greatly terrifying.

      Good job on your story!

    4. Oooh, I love stories that never reveal the monsters, while the crew is fighting madness at the same time. And it’s because of this madness that everything happening could all be an hallucination, but we’ll never really know.

      Gah! So good! Have the like! Take it!

      HEYYY!

      Tap tap tap… I got this for you!

  28. Aracnarquista Avatar
    Aracnarquista

    Probability Abyss
    by Aracnarquista

    At first, it was just a thought experiment. A way to try to reconcile our way of calculating the development of a quantum system through its probabilities and how the Universe really works.

    Just an intellectual musing, but the philosophical questions it posed were converted into the crack from which the monstrous understanding found its way in my mind.

    And now I know its truth. I see the dweller on the probability abyss in my dreams.

    That’s why I don’t sleep anymore.

    I don’t do much, anymore. I’m afraid of choosing. I know that doesn’t even make sense, but sense be damned, I feel the dweller feeding on abandoned realities.

    It was just a thought experiment, when that door was still closed. The Copenhagen interpretation states that before the observation of a quantum system, it holds all potential states as real. The way these potential realities progress is dictated by the wave function, and when the system is measured… a path is chosen. Reality becomes defined, potentiality resolves into actuality. The wave function collapses and those universes in potential are no more.

    Where do they go? What happens to them?

    The lost possibilities are devoured.

    At first, it came almost as a joke. Then, it became part of our common parlance. It found its way into being a possibility.

    And its wave function came crashing down, bringing potentiality into actuality. The lurker beneath the wave function uncertainties is in my dreams, and I know it engorges itself with each declined possibility.

    An impossible creature, devouring orphaned realities. Getting bigger with each meal. Getting realer with each collapse.

    It grows.

    To what end?

    I dread the thought. I don’t want to know, anymore. I don’t even want to not want to know. But I have no choice, but choosing knowing, choosing wanting to know, choosing pursuing it.

    And feeding that beast, the lurker, the devourer.

    Each path not taken drops into the probabilistic abyss to feed the eater of un-reality. Making it more and more defined.

    I’d not choose to be here when that wave function finally collapses.

    1. Shinigama Avatar
      Shinigama

      That was heavy. I think I had a minor stroke trying to comprehend all that!

      But sometimes we all need a good mindf***!

      Not to mention this is probably the most original piece here! I love the idea of impossible monsters feeding off discarded realities. I love stories that warp your mind in directions too twisted, too massive to understand.

      Did you make a pact with Lovecraft?

      Great work!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Why would I made a pact with Lovercraft, when we can just steal the good parts from him while leaving the bad ones behind? hehehehe.

        When I heard “waves” as part of the prompt, the idea of possibilities and the wave function just popped up. I was not very scientifically accurate here (if I had more words to spare, I’d made a better explanation of what the Copenhagen interpretation really is), but I was really taken by the idea of a creature that fed on lost realities and in doing so grew in definition. The idea of what becomes non-existence used as fuel to give reality to something impossible was just too engaging not to try to delve into it.

        Thanks a lot for your comment and feedback!

    2. Boople Avatar

      I don’t know why, But I kinda got Rocco’s Basilisk vibes from this story. maybe it’s that feeling of lurking inevitability that is written so well through this story. maybe not who knows. But I do really enjoy how small it makes the Scientist/Philosopher (maybe neither Idk), I feel if there’s anything to be done then maybe somehow find a way to make the Devourer more present, cause yes it feels scary and yes it feels grand but it kinda feels inconsequential, like whale watching almost, but the whale is eating every you except you.

      Over all a lovely and funky interpretation of the prompt, Keep up the great work and can’t wait to read your next story!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Not gonna lie, when I started writing this one the term informational hazard popped in my mind and I was reminded of the idea of Roko’s Basilisk as well. It is even possible that the starting line echoed something I thought when I first knew the concept, but most of my inspiration really came from the idea of something that gains reality the more it feeds on possibilities (in this case, discarded ones). There is an idea there that I tend to think a lot about, the impoverishment of possibilities (or the diminishing of the virtual, in philosophical terms) that is very close to my concerns, and the story was a way of giving the idea a veneer of fantasy…

        And now that I describe it, I remember Chrono Cross’ Dead Sea, which also is a place built on temporalities that were discarded by the choices that reverberated through time.

        I guess maybe that’s just a theme I love thinking about and consuming discussions about, so it just makes sense to write about it sometimes!

        Thanks a lot for the comment and feedback!

    3. DaLeen Avatar

      First of all, I just love the type of wave you chose. And that’s got nothing to do with the fact I myself had thought about writing about mathematical waves but discarding that idea. More that I’m highly interested in quantum theory. It’s a fun topic.

      And then the story you wrote is just superb. A monster hiding beneath the wave function, feeding in possibilities? That’s an amazing idea, and quite horrifying, honestly. I really don’t want to know what it’s capable of doing… it doesn’t sound pleasant.

      The only thing I need to say is that there was one sentence that kinda… bugged me, can’t really say why though. It’s “The lurker beneath the wave function uncertainties is in my dreams […]”, that one tripped me up a little. But again, only a very minor critique.

      All in all I really love this story, it’s probably one of my favorites among your stories so far. Thank you for writing and sharing it!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Wow, thanks a lot.

        And to imagine this one was written in a kind of rush!

        But there is the thing that I also find the subject matter here quite interesting. I love how counter intuitive to our understanding of reality the predictions and explanations of quantum mechanics are, and musing on its implications for stories is great food for thought. And here I was able to match both the ideas of how to explain a strange explanation and dealing with choices not taken and regret (although this last bit was kind of only stealthily and metaphorically alluded to), so I got to work some topics that really interest me for the price of just one story!

        To be frank, I was a little bit worried with I was not getting into a trap by writing about this topic. Not lots of people are in the know about it, or even interested, and some that are would find ways to poke holes through the discussion. So it is quite nice to hear about your interest, and specially that this one can be among your favorites from me.

        Thanks a lot for the feedback and the comment! It truly means a lot!

    4. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      You’ve seen this already, but I must say it again: This fells like a good Lovecraftian horror story. The impossibilities in our possible reality, the feeling of inevitable doom by something we can’t even understand, the chasing after knowledge even when the characters know it will drive them mad, all the good parts of his work are here.

      Good job!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot.

        One of the stories I really liked and am proud of writing for the weekly prompts (way back when) was my attempt of a Lovecraftian subversion (it was for the The Warm Pleasure of Sunshine prompt, if you want to check it out). It was a whole different beast than this one, but since then I’ve mused if I could write something like that again… and when the prompt for this week was revealed, the central idea materialized there, fully-formed, in my mind. All I had to do was choose the right version of it among the myriad of possibilities and then… actualize it. Make if defined. Write the one, and ignore the “not-the-one”s. Collapse the writing wave function (after careful measurement of, among other things, the word count limit).

        And was it a nice thing to do… though I’d have liked a little bit more time. This was a hectic week, so this is not as polished as I’d like. And maybe that’s for the best… if I had enough time, maybe I would find flaws that I was unable to solve and decide on another thing or skip this week.

        Though, seeing the opinions here in the comments, I’m happy I went with this take.

        Thanks a lot!

    5. In Dutch we have a word called ‘keuzestress’, which translates to “choice stress” and encapsulates the fear of chosing the wrong option.

      But I feel like you gave a new definition to that feeling with this story.
      ‘existential choice stress’ the idea that every decision you make destroys worlds in the background. It’s not even about making the right choice anymore, any choice is in effect a terrible disaster.
      wonderful.

      I’ve been aware of the whole paralel universe choice theory for over a decade but always in the capacity that the other universes are mirror worlds that keep going afterwards (yes that would mean there are an infinit amount of them)

      So reading the other universes collapse after the choice kinda made sense as good resource management ^^;

      And then you had to make a reality eating monster out of it and make me go
      0.0
      Oh dear

      So yeah! the story is built up very well it builds up compicated theories with few words and then just goes ahead and adds a distrubing little twist to tie it up with ^^

      I’m also a fan of the “I don’t wanna know but I kinda have to even though I know my sanity won’t be able to handle it” trope so this like

      “I dread the thought. I don’t want to know, anymore. I don’t even want to not want to know. But I have no choice, but choosing knowing, choosing wanting to know, choosing pursuing it.”

      Love it ^^

      Keep up the good work!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Pumpkin.

        And thanks for introducing me to that wonderful concept of “keuzestress”. I didn’t knew how to name it, but I had that devil in my brain while I was writing it, and although I knew I’d go for a more otherwordly take on choices and their weight, this was certainly in the back of my mind the whole time I was writing it. I’m quite glad the idea is still noticeable even with all the technical language and the horror trappings.

        Though I just love the mixture of technical language and horror trappings as well. And… yeah, it was painful to try to compress a whole explanation and discussion on wave function collapse and one particular interpretation in it. surely, the explanation was lax at best, but I went as far as I thought I’d needed to go without over complicating things and getting a too high “explanation tax” in the word count (the price, though, was being somewhat inexact and unclear).

        Thought I’d put those in the tab of the narrator having a difficult time describing the bizarre situation they find themselves in.

        And I’m also a sucker for the whole idea of knowledge being dangerous and, some times, its consequences being quite unpleasant.

        Thanks a lot!

    6. Xavier21 Avatar

      I always think that your stories are mind provoking. For some reason you always find a hard sci-fi ideas and put it into your stories (which not many people can do considering it’s high concepts). For me, at least your stories contain original concepts (in terms of idea only). I always have this feelings that most people who submit their story in this website doesn’t actually submit a story. They submit a world building scene, a descriptive scene, or some sort of scientific or philosophical essay, not an actual story with characters and plot. On top of that the will receive more likes that I do (yes, I admit this is jealousy LOL). I guess western audience really like fantasy and sci-fi theme stories. For you at least, I can see that it’s a story about a scientist that went crazy from thought experiment. The plot is little, but at least there is characterization. Story is more leaning to a concept of a being that devour alternative possibility when a path is chosen. This concept should be developed more to short story rather than flash fiction, I am pretty sure you can send this type of story to famous magazine if you train more with larger word count.

      1. Xavier21 Avatar

        … which not many people [can’t] do considering it’s high concepts.

      2. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Xavier.

        I really like playing with concepts, and specially stretching what I’m able to describe with each story. Sometimes, all I want to do is develop an idea and see if it sticks, and sometimes is seeing with a crazy idea can become a story. Most of the times I am more keen on the attempt than the result – even though I am pretty satisfied with most of the results lately.

        And, yeah, flash fiction is a difficult beast to work with. Most of the time it is way too daring to make a whole story out of it (and, to be frank, sometimes I don’t even think it is worth the hustle… I got some writing that I can’t in good conscience call a story, but I’m pretty satisfied with how they turned out regardless). There is merit in the attempt (as an exercise in skill building), but I think the most important thing should be deriving pleasure from the writing itself, and sharing things that might be interesting for a wider audience (and there is a lot of worth in discovering our audience can be larger than we initially thought).

        I’d suggest trying not to compare yourself too much with other writers here. Sure, this can help us learnm a lot about different styles. But this also has the risk of making us try to delve into biases that are not our own. As an example, I notice that although meditative stories can have great reception here, there is a slight higher chance of getting more attention when writing more action-oriented stories. I can be completely wrong about this perception, but I had often mused if I should try writing some action ones to experiment and try to get more attention (not that I lack it recently).

        The thing is… I don’t like writing those type of stories, and I’d be miserable writing them (and, considering how I believe they would end up, I think I’d also offer a miserable reading experience for those that LIKE those kind of stories). So I don’t delve in those, at least, not for the benefit of attention and prestige. Maybe one day I’ll be inclined to that, for other reasons.

        And maybe I can read those stories as learning experiences even if they are not really the ones that call my attention.

        I guess I’m getting a little too wordy here, and I’m starting to lose the thread(s) of what I was trying to say.

        Regardless, thanks a lot for the comment and the praise, and specially, for the honesty in starting a conversation on how we can feel about writing and receiving attention, praise and criticism.

    7. My friend trying to order from the Taco Bell menu: ☝️

      Me: So I’ll have the beefy melt…

      It is incredible how physics slip into metaphysics in this piece. A “Lurker” only described as an abyss where all the declined choices go. This crippling indecisiveness stoked by a fear of the growing power of this entity that grows even when your not trying to make a choice, but not making a choice STILL QUALIFIES AS A CHOICE!!!!😱

      And the entity seems to exist and not exist at the same time, because it’s never seen, but is forever present. This crazy mix of a philosophical nightmare where the philosophy makes up the only lens we have TO BE AWARE OF ITS EXISTENCE!!!💀

      Man this beefy melt is delicious. Anyways, here a like because I’d rather have the universe around where you get one instead of not.

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Do I choose to answer the comment? Maybe we live in a superdeterministic universe, where the very concept of choice does not apply to beings such as ourselves… and maybe that narrator was confounding quantum phenomena (and the possibilities in superposition those bring with them) with choices in a human experiential sense (do these create superpositions as well? at least physically speaking, this does not seem to be the case, but I guess despair and Pumpkin called choice stress may have taken hold of his ability to process all that information).

        Or is it that I am consciously trying to avoid the Lurker in the Probability Abyss, since the very concept frightens me?

        We will never know!

    8. Lee Trask Avatar
      Lee Trask

      Watched this on the live stream; sorry for missing it before. Just wanted to give an additional shout-out. I have a background in quantum mechanics so I found this take on the prompt to be very cool!

      1. Aracnarquista Avatar
        Aracnarquista

        Thanks a lot, Lee Trask.

        Not sure if you will see this answer here, but it is very good to know that someone knowledgeable in the subject found it cool. I was quite insecure in writing about a field that I have a lot and interest, but really no dominion beyond the occasional study for fun, so I knew there were bound to be some leaps in interpretation and somewhat imprecise points. I tried to focus more in the more fantastical (or, depending on the reading, subjective) parts of the story, more than on the actual mechanics and explanations, but I’d like those to be at least somewhat accurate.

        Thanks a lot for the comment!

  29. The Missing Link Avatar
    The Missing Link

    A Leap of Faith (Earth’s New Masters)
    By: The Missing Link

    The octopi intercepted the squids’ message from God. The satellite that had been signaling to the moon for as long as cephalopods knew how to receive signals was not an octopus, not a squid. It wasn’t even a nautilus. Soren didn’t know what it was. A mammal clearly, the ones from the glass frames strewn around the strange structures on the surface?

    Soren wasn’t left with much time to think through this new revelation. He heard the riot before he saw it, thousands of octopi swarming around the temple. Someone had leaked the footage, and now he had to go salvage something, anything, from the fact that God was not what his people had been told for generations.

    He understood them of course. If this was what God was, both them and the squids had fought and died in religious wars for nothing, bodies strewn across reef and village, left as food for the crabs.

    As he swam from the building, the crowd’s chromatophores fell pale as all eyes turned in anticipation to Soren. He steeled his nerves and took on a neutral color, dancing out an elaborate message approximate to:

    “My friends, I understand that you are angry. It was a shock to us all, but how sure can we be that the squids actually received this message from God?”

    A protester, bright red in anger, threat markers a deep black, danced out, “Because the squids are doing the same thing over the border. We want temple to answer to its lies, now.”

    Soren thought on this, color changing with frustration. “We didn’t lie to you. We were… mistaken.” He hated making those gestures, but it had to be conveyed, “I think it is time for temple to enter into a new era as we come to better understand this other intelligence in the universe, God or not.”

    The reaction from the crowd was mixed.

    “I think,” Soren hesitated, “I think they might be one of the predecessors, no, I’m choosing to believe it.”

    1. Ooooh an octopi-centric story that’s so eat. I like how it’s mentioned that humanx exist but are just some mysterious creature we don’t care to know much about.

      The thing that made me go from “neat” to “hell yeah” though was the colour changing. That made the octopi really octopi and not just “humans in octopus constumes” maybe a reference to having eight limbs would have strengthened the effect even further but that’s just a suggestion the story is strong as is ^^

      Keep up the good work

  30. Xavier21 Avatar
    Xavier21

    I, Morgot, Refuse to Talk
    By Xavier Twentyone

    I have many faces that I use during the downhill of this country, one of which is Morgot.

    “So… your name is Comrade Orlenko. Am I correct?”

    “No, my name is Morgot.”

    The commissioner looks at me with strange eyes as if I just mocked him, baffled with my words.

    “You wanna play games with me tough guy?!”

    “If you know my name, then why ask?”

    A bodyguard that is present in the interrogation room walks fast toward me. Slaps me with a ferocity that I can’t manage to contain.

    “So, let’s start again. Are you Comrade Orlenko?”

    “Yes.”

    “Do you know why you are here?”

    I look at him for a while, trying to think about how to respond to a hyena that helps bring this country to the ground. Officers and commissioners used to be seen as the pillar of this country’s safety. Now, they are seen as lap dogs that receive bribes and pay from The Tyrant.

    “I don’t know sir.”

    “Bring the others in….”

    The door begins to open. Waves of people come in with a variety. There are those who side with the hyena even though they don’t look like hyenas. There are snakes, pigs, lions, and goats, who are all dressed like cops. Then, there are the prisoners, who I know very well.

    “My name is Morgot, and I refuse to—” a hit from a baton instantly silenced one of the prisoners.

    The one who got hit was Gary, a member of The Movement. The other one who is silent and battered is Darya, a normal friend.

    “One of them snitched the information regarding your pesky Movement. The names, the hideouts, the plans… so you better confess to us!”

    I knew from the beginning that I could only sit at this situation.

    “Well then….”

    The hyena gives signals to the other animals. They tear the prisoners apart. They smile while doing it, forming waves of wild animals that eat the prisoners beneath. I can only look at the monstrosity with pain and tears. For I, Morgot, refuse to talk for the sake of Russia.

    1. maggle Avatar

      I quite like this story; it implies a lot of depth without feeling the need to explain the depth, which — especially in shorter work like this — is a very powerful too. Lots of questions here – is the name Morgot significant? Why is the POV being singled out?

      The animalistic imagery is also very potent and again uses the short word count to convey a lot of information. There is the risk of overly-stereotyped comparisons or ones that don’t have consistent enough correlations to be usable, and while I do think the ones used here do lean a little bit towards the former, it’s not enough to really be a problem — and it’s definitely the safer option.

      I think the 0nly real critique I have is a question of why the POV does agree to their actual name towards the beginning. I understand that, as the story is now, it’s how things progress to the other members of the Movement being brought out, but it massively dulls the impact of the final line. Why should the name Morgot matter at that point if they already shed it? An alternative could be sticking to the name Morgot, which angers the examiner to the point that they give the same command to bring in the others.

      1. Xavier21 Avatar
        Xavier21

        Hi, thanks for your comment maggle!

        It is unfortunate to say that I mainly use my subconscious to write this story without using logic to tie the plot up. So I don’t really know why the First Morgot gave up his name easily other than he is afraid to be hit again (most of them are civilians after all, not some trained soldier who can withstand some serious torturing). But from my point of view, he still deserve to call himself Morgot because although he quickly confessed his real name, he still didn’t give them the information they needed (or to confessed about The Movement).

        For me Morgot is an ideal Russian Man who stood against Stalin and his oppression (even though Orlenko failed to do so at first). Why this name is chosen I don’t know; I once read a short story by Triyanto Triwikromo with the same theme, that is about identity in the mids of oppression (even though I forget about the name of the story). The POV is chosen mainly because I want to tell a more personal story, no other special reasons. About your suggestion regarding annoying the commissioner, I can see this happening in my story rather than the original because it will make a lot more sense, which I should consider before submitting LOL.

        P.S: Gary didn’t snitched The Movement out. This is a common tactic in police to pretend that they know everything. I don’t know whether I should tell this or not, but this is my first intention.

        Anyways, thanks for commenting!

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      So…

      This is a difficult one to comment.

      There are some elements in it that I really like, but there are some things that I’m not sure are quite consistent in tone throughout the story (which, depending on the story, might not be a problem at all; here, though, I think you are trying to elicit a particular feeling and idea on the reader, so this would be a good think to make that transmission work better).

      And there’s the thing that when I first read it, I didn’t made the connection to the time you imply to story to be happening in (in the comments, you make it clear that it happens during Stalin’s regime… but the way I read it without having that knowledge made me thing this was more current time, during the mass arrests after the anti-war protests). Taking the story as happening in one moment or the other color it very differently.

      I like how the point-of-view character is the one being held for information, and that he already sees himself as embracing the rebel identity. I’d think, though, that there is a component of despair and even guilt that could be better weaved in (military governments and resistance movements are a very important part of the story of my country, and whenever I see one of the torture survivors narrating their experiences, courage is often coupled with immense pain). I get that Orlenko/Morgot is resolute – but resolution is even better conveyed in the face of inner turmoil and doubt.

      And there’s a small matter with the last line – though, I’m not sure how to really convey it. Maybe that’s a matter of mine more than a problem of the story, but I always think that resorting to the idea of a country as the reason to keep resolute or to be idealistic cheapens a bit the cause of the character. What is Russia to the character? I don’t know, but for me, a nation is less than nothing – a rhetorical instrument that makes it harder, not easier, to defend more grounded values. That certainly is more a problem with my reading than with the story in itself, but since there wouldn’t be a lot of words to convey what the Russia worth defending is in the mind of the character, I’d advice to jump that step and go straight to the values he is defending.

      Regardless, this is a very thought-provoking story… and, considering the length of this comment, I’d say it is also a very functional springboard for more discussions on the ideas present in it.

      Thanks for sharing!

      1. Xavier21 Avatar

        Thanks for the comment Aracnarquista!

        I agree that there are some disconjuction with the tone(s) throughout the story. My guess is that there ara a bit of tone shift after the commissioner threaten Morgot to spoil Thr Movement’s secret. I would guess that it feels like I was making the dread of Gary and Darya’s beating to be non natural as if I was making it dreadful for the sake of dreadful (which can break the whole flow of the previous tone). Btw, although it was set in Stalin regime, for some reason I didn’t include the name “Stalin” in it for poetic purpose lol. I thought “The Tyrant” part would make it cooler.

        About the last line, i purposely include it for the sake of making Morgot look heroic. This wasn’t an accident because I aim for more of a romantizied version of strong silent type of interogation where the protagonist can withstabd any torture, including watch his friends suffer. Although at the end of the day, the realism of human reaction to torture still slip in at the beggining of the story.

        And finally, I think a concept of a nation does not hinder the idealistic vision a group have about the future of the said country. From where I come from, Indonesia, we already have a strong national identity due to our history of successfully kick out the colonialist that had been colonized our small, poor nation by uniteting with different hundreds of ethnic group for one common enemies (the colonizers). When we think of indonesia, we think of an underdog country where independance was attained by blood, sweat, tears, and dead bodies… A lots of dead bodies from different ethnic group. Therefore our indonesia’s ideology is called Bhinneka Tunggal Ika, which means Unity in Diversity. So when one day indonesia’s ideology will change (lets just say with capitalism), we will still correlate indonesia’s old ideology with indonesia as a nation itself, because without our old ideology, the old indonesia would had never come to exist.

        From my point of view (keep in mind that i mainly write with my subconscious, so i could be wrong), Russia is a nation with pre-uni soviet ideology, that is an idrology that rooted in orthodox christianity and monarchy. Its not the best, but i will consider it better than the stalin regime, because stalin regime not only destroy it’s citizen, but also destroy their culturr and religion. So, its in orlenko’s interes to get those value back at russia at any cost.

        Once again, thanks for sharing your views

        1. Aracnarquista Avatar
          Aracnarquista

          I think now I get it. Maybe the thing that, to me, might it a little strange is that we are both projecting our ideas of the concept of nation in a context and historical situation that does not reflect either of our conceptions. That’s part and parcel of the experience of dealing with writing, reading, and discourse in general.

          Anyway, this is an interesting discussion as well, on how our perceptions and conceptions color the story differently.

          1. Xavier21 Avatar

            Yeah! And I also hope I can be a better writer too!

  31. Skeleton Avatar
    Skeleton

    Forgotten Memories (The Will)
    By Skeleton

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

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

    Would have been.

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

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

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

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

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

    Homesickness. Gale knew the feeling immediately.

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

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      That was a lot deeper than I was expecting it to be. And that ending line… that was amazing.

      This story reminds me a lot of stories in which the ocean is just… too much for one to take in. Sometimes, it is incomprehensible. Others, just sublime. More often than not, it is frightful in its might.

      But most stories where these kind of connections happen, what I usually see is a terrible longing for something… and here, it appears as that, in a very honest and direct form.

      I love how the ocean itself is used in a way that does not explain or take away from its mystery. It calls to Eymir, he feels that longing… and we never know or experience how or why it is. We just know it tugs on him, and it is unbearable.

      Amazing one.

    2. Boople Avatar

      I’m very impressed at the idea of having a character be homesick without a home. this is definitely the type of a snippet of a story that makes me so damn curious as to the history of these characters. although its not necessary I kind of wish Gale spoke, I feel like it would make the lens from which we view this world feel more alive.

      Overall this is an incredibly creative concept that has such a nice world to expand upon if you so chose to (if you haven’t already)

    3. This was interesting. The start gave me “Jiraya doing research” vibes, but then it took a hard right into “existential dread.” Or something like it at least.

      Does he come from a civilization under the sea that he doesn’t remember?

    4. Wow!

      The line, “It’s like I’m drowning just standing here,” applied to homesickness, to a concept that puts you in a position where you yearn to belong, but can’t find home nor the courage to find it.

      👏This.👏 Hits. 👏The. 👏Feels.

      And the mystery of the origins of this character became so prevalent that I became invested in this characters betterment. The dialogue was something out of an anime. So short, so sweet, and effectively said within a short story.

      You deserve this like.👍

  32. DaLeen Avatar

    Of Days Long Gone
    By Taja DaLeen

    I miss the old days. When everything was easy, and we were young, and free. Back when we didn’t have to worry about a thing, when we had time to just… be.

    No one ever appreciates those times enough while they last.

    We were carefree and unthinking, diving head first into the things we wanted to do and swimming with ripples of emotions, only ever living for the moment. We ran through forests and fields, climbed the highest trees and slept under the starlit sky.

    How I miss those days.

    And how I miss you.

    The way you laughed, the way you danced through life and never failed to find joy in everything, always going with the flow, it is all engraved into my memory.

    How we used to lay in fields of corn, watching it sway gently in the breeze, chasing our troubles away like rolling waves. Telling them to just move on. Just like the clouds that would come and go, nothing really mattered except for the two of us.

    How the tides have turned.

    It was only ever us in this little world, this small ocean of corn that shielded us from everything else, making sure we could just enjoy the company of the other.

    Oh, and we loved every second of it. We could just lie there for hours on end, holding hands and caressing each other’s hair, gazing into our eyes, listening to the sound of our breaths and heartbeats, tasting each other’s lips…

    Nothing else was important beneath the rolling pillars of corn back then.

    But now you are gone, and with you those times of innocent wonder and joy. No more starry skies and golden waves. And they won’t ever come back.

    I still miss them dearly.

    I still miss you.

    1. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      Oh, commenting this one will be strange.

      There are two things I am seeing here that I found incredibly captivating. The image of the corn field serving as the special place which holds those memories (and then, that particular take on what the waves are here)…. that is incredibly beautiful.

      And dealing with loss as the theme here is something I was not really prepared for. The language here is quite sad, and quite real. It is touching.

      This is such a common thing to deal with, but such a difficult feeling to convey. It is hard to write stories that revolve around how heavy loss can feel, how there are some emotions words just can’t express, how the things we miss take a part of us with them, and how this can make we feel diminished.

      And I really appreciate when one story can bring this theme and touch us with this weight.

      This was a beautiful, sad and necessary story. Thanks a lot for sharing it.

    2. Boople Avatar

      what a nice and bittersweet story you got here. I like as well that the one of the ways you interpreted Ocean was a field of corn, that’s fuckin awesome. you did a really great job of of having nostalgia permeate through this whole story.

      Can’t wait to read more from ya!

    3. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      This one was heavy, Longing for a better, happier past that will never return… I think it’s something almost all of us will have to deal with eventually. And it was conveyed very beautifully here, especially the creative use of the ‘wave’ part of the prompt.

      Good job!

    4. My first thought was to say “Fun story”, but it’s not, is it? It’s a sad story, but still a good one.

      I guess what I think about most is how they died, and if they were young or old. Is this a story of remembering the good ol days, or are we lamenting a future together that has been lost?

    5. Usually I always say that we show appreciation by living in the moment, but then there’s afterwards. The thought of always revisiting good memories wishing you had more really sets in how there’s never enough appreciation with a broken heart.

      This plucked some strings in me.

      Also I really like that it’s corn waving. instead of water. Have a like.

  33. Thunder Avatar

    The Ocean Keeps Her Secrets
    by Thunder

    It was hard to build up momentum underwater, but Cody managed. The old chest’s lid shattered, rotten wood filling the compartment.

    Eddy pushed Cody aside, waving his hand to dispel some of the larger fragments, and caught his breath as the flashlight attached to his helmet had its beam reflected back, colored a dazzling yellow. “It’s here.”

    Cody leaned over his shoulder. “That’s a lot of gold,” he said, grudgingly impressed. “You want me to get the balloons?”

    “Yes- wait, not yet, with the lid smashed we’ll risk losing everything.”

    “Bring a lockpick next time,” Cody said with a sigh, drifting toward the bag of equipment to see what he had to improvise with.

    Eddy meanwhile picked up a handful of the coins, allowing them to trickle through his fingers back into the chest. “Beat you this time, Granddad,” he said quietly. Then he frowned, seeing a dark grey object sticking out of the gold. He pried it out, finding a sealed canister. “Huh.”

    The radio crackled, Isa’s voice coming in through the static. “How’s it going guys?”

    “Found it, exactly where he said it would be,” Cody answered while Eddy stared at the find.

    “Great! Uh, by the way, I just got a call from our old friend Agent Clayton.”

    Eddy snapped out of his reverie, spinning to lock eyes with Cody. “What the hell does he want?”

    “Something about laws and taxes and also apparently we’re in danger. The usual.”

    Eddy digested that for a moment. “He didn’t happen to mention why he thinks that, did he?”

    “Well, apparently the laws around recovering lost gold are extremely complex and he wanted to warn us before the lawyers showed up-”

    “The danger part, Isa.”

    “Oh, right. He didn’t, but he sounded worried enough that he’s trying to get the coast guard out here. You guys want to come up until-”

    The connection died suddenly. At the same time, the hatch they had entered slammed shut and locked.

    The room lurched, and with a horrid scraping sound, the submarine began to slide down the trench wall, straight toward the bottom.

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

      Excitement right from the word go, which is an impressive feat to pull off! I love these rogue-type characters and I love it even more the fact that they’re so close. You paint this scene so well that I can imagine it very vividly in my head. The sudden tension at the mention of Agent Clayton is very well-written… and the fact that it’s “the usual” trouble tells the audience a lot about our protagonists. Some great verbage by the way – “Eddy digested that”, “grudgingly impressed” etc. The ending is absolutely horrific (and I mean that in the best way possible) – it’s a terrifying image, and the use of sensory information with the scraping sounds adds to the punch that it packs. Really great story, I hope to see more from you 🙂

    2. I love the dynamic between these characters, and the introduction and conflict that you managed to fit in here with the inclusion of the lawyers and Agent Clayton right before it suddenly cuts off into a supernatural story was great.

      I do think that you ended up cramming just a bit too much content into the story though, and that leaves the already short span of development you get even shorter. I think that overall it worked well as a story but it feels a bit cramped in there.

  34. Hush (Chronicles of The Dragon)
    By Makokam

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    His breath was even slower.

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

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

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

    Water out. Water in.

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

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

    1. Jocelyn Avatar

      Woah 🤯

      That’s a f****** nightmare. 😫

      1. Yes.

        –/But not for him/–

    2. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      Sleep AND Ocean waves?? Brilliant story, Mako! Despite what’s happening, it’s really serene and soft. Jonny being chained and tossed overboard is really horrendous, but to WAKE UP to that is beyond imaginable! It makes sense why he would sleep so long when he finally DOES get to sleep.

      The descriptions are dreamlike and soft and sweet. Almost like a lullaby.

      I’m curious as to who did this and why. Goodness knows he’s got plenty of enemies to fit the bill.

      Critique:

      The rocking of the boat was soothing. He knew nothing of it, but (its) effects were still felt

      That ending is absolutely amazing. It’s so vivid, and I can FEEL the intensity. I’m am dancing to see where this one leads. Thank you so much for writing and sharing this!

    3. Arith_Winterfell Avatar
      Arith_Winterfell

      This was well done! There is a skillful interplay of peaceful slumber contrasted to the rising action of being captured, carried away, ultimately the climax of him being thrown into the ocean and beginning to drown. The drowning at the climax was well written and quite tension inducing (which is saying something from someone who enjoys horror).

      Although, funny bit. I mis-read the lines “The mask on his face was a pale ghost of an irritation” and thought you meant Jonathan’s face was a pale ghost of irritation. So got even more confused when I read “the gas it gave him” bit, thinking something was giving him “gas” (like something he ate) and wondered why having gas was like a a warm blanket rather than a mask giving him gas. Upon re-reading the bit, I realized what you actually meant that they put a anesthetic gas mask like thing delivering sleeping gas to him. So, silly me mis-reading that bit.

      On the whole I liked how the story explored Jonathan’s time of weakness and how his foes got the drop on him. It would be an interesting scene to see how he escapes from drowning in his current state, with the obstacles he now faces. Well done!

    4. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      Good as always! The feeling is good and tense. The ending took me me for surprise and I can’t wait to see what happens next.

    5. “And it was in that moment, they realised… they f*cked up.” Insert “To be Continued” meme.

      Jonathan strikes me as the kind of monster who can’t easily be killed. Unbreakable manacles attached to a rock and thrown into the deepest part of the ocean is only going to slow him down, methinks.

      Whoever they are who did that, they just pissed him off. I wish them the best of luck in escaping Jonathan’s vengeance, because they are clearly going to need it.

    6. WriterOfThought Avatar
      WriterOfThought

      This has a plot like Freddy Krueger wrote it. Very nicely done.

      I particularly like your imagery. I can almost feel my own lungs filling with the water.

      Your tension building is impeccable, as well. I had forgotten towards the end that he was dreaming, and was not expecting him to wake up.

      Applause all around. Wonderfully done.

    7. When the Doom music plays.

      My dude was taking the best nap of his life and gets chained up and thrown overboard to wake up in an unnecessarily brutal way, and rise like radioative lizard about to trample a country.😶

      I got popcorn.🍿

  35. Experimenting with Powers (Frontier Universe)
    By Alex Nightingale (aka Spectre)

    When Selene finished her work to return to the private rooms of the inn her parents ran, she didn’t expect to run into this. She saw a swirling mass of water, hovering in the room. Light from lamps reflected off the airborne waves, making the entire room look like a scene from beneath a lake. It looked about as much water as would fit into two full kegs.

    Beneath the waves she saw her younger brother, his hands outstretched towards the water, directing it with his movements.

    “Asa?” Selene asked slowly. “You’ve been practicing.”

    “Not successfully,” he replied. “I can’t form any complex shapes. I have the power to move water, but doing anything more than that requires more… concentration.”

    Coming closer, Selene was once again reminded of just how… old her brother looked. He was thirteen, yet he looked her age. You never realized how uncannily quick powered people matured, until you saw it happen to someone who was supposed to be five years younger than you.

    “Still, your hydrokinesis is coming along really well,” she said.

    “Adrian has been an exceptional mentor,” Asa said, directing the water back towards the kegs.

    He missed part of them and the table was doused in water. He cursed loudly and Selene hurried over with a towel.

    “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Practice makes perfect.”

    “I know. I just hoped I’d have enough control to at least hit the kegs at this point.”

    Selene wiped the water away, saying nothing. Asa’s powers manifested fully less than a year ago and he was already throwing around water bubbles. She wondered if impatience was a side-effect of the rapid physical maturation.

    “Are you… upset?” Asa asked. “I’m sorry about the powers.”

    “It’s not that,” Selene replied and she meant it.

    She’d never been jealous of Asa’s powers, even if she herself didn’t have any.

    “I’m just worried,” she continued. “And… a little intimidated by how quickly you grow.”

    “I… understand,” Asa said. “I’m still the same, old Asa, though.”

    “No,” Selene chuckled. “You’re not.”

    “No…” Asa chuckled as well. “I guess not.”

    1. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
      ThatWeirdFish

      I like the interaction between Selene and Asa here. It’s mundane, Asa’s practice of a skill, but also fantastical in that skill happens to be a magical power. (I’ll admit I’m a sucker for that combination.) I also appreciate your showing Selene’s encouragement and acceptance of his powers, even if it is a rough stage for both of them. Well done in capturing this moment.

  36. Tamela Redfin Avatar
    Tamela Redfin

    Drifting Away

    By Tamela Redfin

    Reagan looked into the red eyes. “So Lukas, why the beach?”

    He smiled, “You felt like you could use a change of pace.”

    “I did need one.” Reagan took off her cover, revealed her bikini and a few stretch marks. “I look ok, right?”

    Lukas nodded. “You’re beautiful, hon. Come on, let’s get into the water.”

    Reagan was beautiful. A phrase she never heard come from Edison’s lips. The marriage was a sham. No wait, a sham implied there was a level of success. It wasn’t what she wanted.

    Reagan dipped her toes into the water. She watched Lukas swim out.

    “Wait for me, lover boy!” She ran out.

    “Lover boy?” He chuckled, splashing her. “I’ll show you a lover boy.”

    “Please do.” She giggled. But then by some miracle, she heard her phone ring.

    “What is it?” Lukas asked.

    “It’s my phone, I’ll be back.” She got out and answered her phone.

    “Where are you, Reagan?”

    “Edison, I told you, I was going to the beach.”

    He huffed, “You shouldn’t be a neglectful mother!”

    “Try not being a dead beat, Edison.” She scoffed. She heard a whistle blow and… “LUKAS ARE YOU OKAY?”

    “Who’s Lukas?” Edison sneered.

    Reagan hung up and watched as Lukas fell under the water. Please don’t die.

    His body was dragged out of the water safely. Reagan stared at her pale lover. “Lukas?”

    One compression. Two. Three…
    He coughed up some water and looked at Reagan. “I’m okay, honey, but I think this was a sign.”
    “Of what?”

    “Maybe I shouldn’t be having an affair with you.” Lukas frowned. “I’ll take you home, okay?”
    Reagan blinked back tears. “Okay Lukas.”

    1. You actually made me feel sorry for Reagan. That is some writing CHOPS, knowing what I know about that particular bee with an itch.

      You can see her world falling apart around her and also how some of it is her own dang fault. You can see her needing love and not getting it from the places she tries, and it’s all going sour.

      Magnificent work.

    2. This was really good. Especially the first half. I don’t think we’ve seen you make a complete jump backwards in time. At least. I assume it is.
      The pacing was great and gave us a good look at what a happy Reagan could have been.

      The second half tried to do a little too much in a little too short of a time. With him starting to drown to being immediately out of the water and talking and breaking up with her, we didn’t get to experience any danger, fear, or get a feel for why he’d suddenly say “I think God is trying to tell me something.

      Unless it was all staged to give him out.

    3. I really enjoy how the title applies to the story. Reagan is drifting away from multiple things in her life: her husband (ex- probably) and her responsibility of being a parental figure to her kids.

      Edison also sounds responsible for this as well for being a “dead beat”, and Lukas is now starting to drift away from Reagan because he feels guilty of an affair or is afraid of karma biting him in a superstitious way.

      As for criticisms, I feel you didn’t paragraph certain lines correctly. Like the line “Of what?” should be its own paragraph, as well as ‘Reagan blinked back tears. “Okay Lukas.”‘

      But aside from that, well done. Here’s a like that didn’t drown.

  37. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
    Dagmar Makara (dystop)

    Long Wave 198.2
    Dagmar Makara (dystop)

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

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

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

    “Echo, you, you… echo”.

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

    The white noise is interrupted again.

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

    Raw terror.

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

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

    “Useless.”

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

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

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

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

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

    “You’ve said too much, Agent”.

    Suddenly, a voice behind me. My colleague.

    “Agent?” she says, sounding puzzled.

    “Yes?” I say.

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

    Why does she sound… worried?

    Why does she sound… sincere?

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

    1. I like where you went with this. The waves in question being the radio waves. And your protagonist being under their influence. Secret messages in the unreliable audio coming back in.

      This is an excellent perspective on the inner thoughts of someone with delusional paranoia. And the messages are strange as well. Trying to decode them would definitely be a problem. I can’t fathom what the messages could be.

      The social worker/therapist has their work cut out for them here.

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

        Thankyou for the kind words! I used first person for the first time ever because I thought that’d best display that “this is real for Jacob, this is how he experiences it” : )

    2. Aracnarquista Avatar
      Aracnarquista

      I really like the idea that what is “beneath the waves” here is just noise, but the protagonist’s pareidolia makes it something more. That’s a quirk thing about evolve to recognize patterns – we can do it even when no intended or “real” pattern is there, and from that the most bizarre nightmares can come forth.

      That feeling of trying to catch something that is eluding us, but is right there, we can feel it…. that was very present in the piece. Not only in narration, but it was transmitted through pacing and the story structure. Almost as if the same madness that got the protagonist is trying to infect the reader.

      Great work in maintaining tension and interest through all the story. Although this is, as expected, a short one, and the protagonist is all but taken by his task, you managed to give him a distinct voice. And the way he deals with the anxiety from the pursuit with alcohol is interestingly put here. It is chilling and funny all at once to read that small bit of “did I drink too much? Maybe not enough?”

      Very nice story! Keep on writing!

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

        Thankyou so much, that was exactly what I was going for 🙂

    3. The Missing Link Avatar
      The Missing Link

      The twist at the end really makes this sad, which resolves the earlier tension very well. A lot of the wording is really well structured as well. I love my body has failed to eat as a turn of phrase. It implies so much more than saying he forgot to eat or didn’t eat. Jacob’s despair is really elevated by small phrasings like that.

  38. Dagmar Makara (dystop) Avatar
    Dagmar Makara (dystop)

    Long Wave 198.2
    by Dagmar Makara (dystop)

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

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

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

    “Echo, you, you… echo”.

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

    The white noise is interrupted again.

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

    Raw terror.

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

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

    “Useless.”

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

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

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

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

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

    “You’ve said too much, Agent”.

    Suddenly, a voice behind me. My colleague.

    “Agent?” she says, sounding puzzled.

    “Yes?” I say.

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

    Why does she sound… worried?

    Why does she sound… sincere?

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

  39. Save the Cat [A Devil’s Tale]
    C. M. Weller

    It was so black out there that even a Hellkin with darksight couldn’t see very far. The wind’s banshee howling didn’t help. The occasional flash of lightning could only suggest the shape of the ship.

    Only a true maniac would step out into this apocalypse of a storm. A true maniac, or someone who already knew how he was going to die. Just like he did.

    That didn’t stop him from taking all possible precautions on his way to his goal. Jabbing his darts into the deck and threading rope between them. It helped him stay in close association with the ship. He was soaked to his blue skin thrice over and more by the time he reached his objective. About five coils of spare rope pinned to the deck with netting and good staples.

    Where the ships’ cat had recently had a litter.

    Some were debating the luck of having the Hellkin on board, and losing the ships’ cat would cement his fate in the darkest depths of the ocean floor. He could not hear the mewling inside the nest of rope, but he could feel the blobby shapes of the newborn kittens.

    Move the babies, then move the mother. There was room in his gi to hold them all. At least his tail came in handy for helping him hang on to the net.

    SIx. Seven. Eight kittens. Their mother tried to snatch them back, but cowered from the weather. Nine. Ten.

    The ship lurched under the force of a wave. The water turned it all upside down. He kept one arm around the kittens and watched in amazement as the cat leaped into his vest to join her brood.

    No time to waste, he turned back towards the safety of the hold. At least the ship had returned to a proper association with being upright.

    The Captain hauled him in and tried chewing him out above the wail of the storm. He simply tipped the mess of cats out onto a handy hammock and breathed a sigh of relief as the crew changed their minds about him.

    1. Tamela Redfin Avatar
      Tamela Redfin

      That is a lot of kitties. Litters are 4-8 kittens so yeah. Ten. :0
      I loved this one.

      1. Yup. Poor mama cat -_-

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

      My god the way you bring this ship to life with super, super-rich descriptive imagery is just amazing, even on basic ship details like this paragraph:

      “That didn’t stop him from taking all possible precautions on his way to his goal. Jabbing his darts into the deck and threading rope between them. It helped him stay in close association with the ship. He was soaked to his blue skin thrice over and more by the time he reached his objective. About five coils of spare rope pinned to the deck with netting and good staples.”

      It’s fantastic, I also love that this Hellkin seems to have completely different motivations from everyone else onboard, at least that’s how it reads to me. Seems he’s concerned for the kittens and the crew are concerned with doing the whole “cement his fate in the darkest depths of the ocean floor” (another beautiful line) thing! I really like how the darksight you mentioned straight away isn’t a throwaway detail, it’s a Chekov’s Gun that is actually relevant to the story in finding the kittens.

      “He was soaked to his blue skin thrice over and more” – some truly stunning poetic lines like this. You definitely have a flair for the poetic in these stories, which I really enjoy.

      My only critique is something I think might be a typo or something you haven’t explained: “There was room in his gi to hold them all.” However, it was so minor that I initially missed it completely on the first read and it didn’t impact my enjoyment at all. Fantastic job as usual!

      1. Gi is a perfectly legit word no matter what the spellcheckers say XD It’s the word for part of the martial arts uniform. Sometimes it means the whole thing, sometimes it means just the top. In this case, it’s talking about his top.

        Glad you enjoyed my work. I LOVE to do poetic phraseology.

    3. Shinigama Avatar
      Shinigama

      Best way to get people to read and upvote your story – save some cats! You know your audience!

      All the same, this was quite a heartwarming story, and I love the descriptions of the storm and of the Hellkin’s relationship with the boat. They’re so kinetic and lively!

      My only criticism is the line “… the ship had returned to a proper association with being upright.” That line sounds a little clunky to me. Maybe just “At least the ship had returned to being upright.”?

      But that’s just one line, I love the rest of your story.

      Well done!

      1. The ship’s still being tossed about, but at least it’s not tossed UPSIDE-DOWN, is the point I was trying to make with the clunky verbiage.

        my fault for wanting to be poetic about descriptions, I guess.

        1. Shinigama Avatar
          Shinigama

          Ah, I see. Earlier you wrote “The water turned it all upside down”, so I thought it went over and then upright again. It was a little unclear.

          But still a great story in any case!

    4. Aside from Kosh doing dope monk shit, something I really like about this story is how you toy with the idea of Plot Armor.
      Kosh knows he’s fated to die later, somewhere else. So he knows that he doesn’t die here and now.

      Now, something GoW Ragnarok did was show Fate as tied to one’s nature, in that one’s own tendencies to make certain choices made their path predictable.
      So here, Kosh knows that he doesn’t die here, but he also knows that if their luck keeps going south, especially if the beloved cat dies, he’s going to be blamed and tossed off the ship if not killed directly.
      We combine these two aspects of fate and get Kosh going “Well, I won’t die saving the the cat, and if I save the cat the crew won’t kill me. Win-win as they say.”

      Though Kosh would probably save the cat anyway.

      1. Kosh WOULD save the cat anyway. Most of the bit about the crew tossing him overboard is rationalisation as to WHY he’s saving the cat.

        This is the patch of life where he honestly believes he knows how he dies. It’s a certainty. He’s positive that he’ll be stabbed in the back by someone he was stupid enough to think he could trust.

        Cheerful lad, my Kosh /s

  40. Tale As Old As Time
    By Marx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    1. This was an interesting interaction. Yelena and the Old One have a really engaging dynamic and I love reading about them. I especially like how Yelena’s hypocrisy shines through in so many different ways. She laments how the Old One never gave her an honourable death, yet she seems to recoil at granting him the same. Even her gratitude over saving her comes through here, even if it is merely on a subconscious level.

      Seeing an angel and a demon form a bond is a trope I really like (especially since I read/watched ‘Good Omens’) and I can totally see this leading into a story of two supernatural warriors just wanting out of the business of fighting each other and learning to heal together.

      Great story!

    2. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      Emotional waves! I love it, Marx! It would appear we’re doing the same type of waves this week.

      As sad as it is, it’s also sweetly heartwarming to see the Old One fighting against suicidal thoughts. Yelena is exact opposite where she entertains, and nearly gives into, those same thoughts. I love their yin and yang: how the Old One is dark and can be perceived as maleficent and evil but is gentle and soft and patient. On the other side is Yelena, who is light and can be seen as a force of good and justice but is ferocious and loud and reckless. Where they are alike is their stubbornness. They have an amazing give and take.

      I JUST noticed the title, and Beauty and the Beast is my all time favorite Disney movie, and that absolutely resonates through this piece. I can 100% see the Old One as a quiet Beast waiting for a chance to unleash his rage should anyone hurt his Beauty. This is a beautiful, soft story, and I am quite enjoying how their relationship (platonic or otherwise) is coming together. I’m totally excited for more. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing this.

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

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

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

      😥

    4. Strong Berry Avatar
      Strong Berry

      I like this one. A wave of anger surely can be overwhelming, especially if your pride was damaged. I also like how you continued from last week and how natural it felt despite having two very different prompts, it’s something that takes skill to do.

      Good job!

    5. Oooh that’s an interesting dynamic. The blade scene really hurt XD but in a good way and the end has a nice bittersweet twang to it that makes me just wanna go hug everyone and stop being sad already 🙁

      Well done!

    6. I ship them.

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