This one happens to be a rather short one.
Write a complete story in only one sentence about a packet of seeds.
It was all that was left, as it dropped it’s last seeds into the packet; the only thing left of his life with her.
That was so short, I decided to do more than one here.
What happens when a webcomic artist starts seeing mythical creatures everywhere.
He had always assumed it was because he hadn’t been out in a while. Fantasy and myth had always interested him, but he had thought the interest was because it was cool or such. Myth and legend drew him in like no other stories did. His mind would fill with images of flying horses and giant reptiles breathing fire. That was what had pushed him to start the webcomic. It was centered on a select few who had been chosen by the gods and such. It seemed cliche, but he loved it. He had tried less conventional ideas but they never interested him, and because of that never got continued. It was his fantasy comic he worked on the most.
Strange thing that. He had just taken the story where ever he thought it should go, but had his thoughts somehow been altered? In the story, the select few had been attacked, originally for drama, but the last one standing ended up hiding among humans. He forgot who he was. This panel had been what had startled him. He felt stupid writing like this because it felt so much like he was drawing and writing about himself. He feared someone would come along and mock him. Still, he couldn’t stop. Whenever he tried to take the story some other direction, add in new characters, it never felt right.
As he stood outside in the rain, he felt he should go to the hospital. He didn’t feel ill. His head didn’t hurt. Nausea hadn’t crept up on him. His chest didn’t hurt. No. Nothing quite so dramatic. It was the little people with wings dancing on the railing of his balcony. He shouldn’t be able to see that. They looked like they were laughing and using the decorative posts like a slide. An urge to draw this into his comic felt almost overwhelming. The people flew up sitting on the top railing. He was barely paying attention to them, so it took a moment for him to realize. They weren’t sliding back down.
His eyes dropped to one. Words formed into his mind. The sensation of them watching him settled on his mind.
So, what are you going to do?
He was so startled by the clarity of the soft feminine voice, he stumbled backwards. His breath hitched. One of the people flew up the rain breaking into droplets around her.
You know. Don’t you?
He didn’t say anything. What was he supposed to say to that?
I was wondering how long it would take.
He wasn’t certain what she meant by that. Five of the people flew to his hand each taking a finger drawing him forward. His mind felt like it was going a thousand miles per hour. They drew his hand forward. No. This wasn’t real. The people stopped staring up at him.
Do you really believe that?
He opened his mouth to say he did, but stopped. This seemed to make them happy letting them lead him forward again. Adrenaline was pumping into his body, but he couldn’t exactly figure out why. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He didn’t know why he had been worried before. Stepping up to the railing, he watched them drop his hand on the cold, wet metal. They flew up dancing in patterns around him. Their little voices chanted. The words were impossible to get out of his head. He stepped up on the bottom rail. His body felt so light. He didn’t…know if he could think well.
Come on. You know. We are just on the other side. Everything you know to be true.
Something dropped in his stomach, but he still swung his legs over the railing letting himself sit on the top. The cold rain drenched his clothes. Little trails of water racing down his face, and arms falling around him. The little people were right. The humans weren’t where he belonged. He had drawn the creatures because he had once seen them. The story he had written was exactly what had happened.
Setting his heels onto the bottom rail, he straightened. The little people, what he knew were fairies, called to him. They beckoned him forward. A small something in the back of his mind twisted around fighting, but it didn’t seem important. Taking a deep breath, he felt the hole that had always been there. The one telling him he didn’t belong. These people wanted him. He would be back with those who wanted him. Finally, someone would want him.
His eyes closed as his hands released the railing. The wind flew around him thrilled his mind. For a moment, he felt lighter than ever. He felt suspended in air. Zero weight gave way to the sensation of falling. A scream shocked his mind into reality as the ground rushed up to meet him. A distant voice, a light weight on his head.
The last one has been killed. We need to return to let them know. His friends couldn’t save him. Such a pity.
The little people flew off quickly as humans rushed over trying to keep the man alive. People shouted at each other about what they had seen. Police would arrive soon. Medics to try and revive him. But it would all be forgotten, except by those who had tried to save him. The ones who had tried to grab his clothes to pull him back. The one who screamed knowing he would die. The others had finally won.