Writing Prompts

Illusion -Word count 600

  • Word count: 600
  • Genre: Science Fiction
  • Character: A hermit
  • Material: A remote control
  • Sentence: “Don’t trust everything you see.”
  • Bonus: The Sun is failing.

 

“Don’t trust everything you see.”  

The man that stood in front of her was disheveled even beyond what she thought possible. His eyes spoke of experience, and paranoia. She wasn’t entirely sure this hermit could be trusted. Since their society had pushed passed what they thought possible, everyone seemed busy living a life of ease as the robots did their jobs and everyone could pursue what they wanted. Discontent was at an all time low. A few were rejected. The usual like this hermit. They chose to live outside of society doing who knew what. Once in a while, they would be on the street shouting the ‘end is near’ but that had always been so, hadn’t it?

How this man found her was concerning. She had just been walking from work when she felt like she was cornered.

“There is corruption even beyond what you know.”

She gave him a smile, nodding but not believing what he was saying. “Riiiiight.” She drew out the vowel. This seemed to make the man mad.

“I’m not crazy. I know that’s what society makes me seem like so you don’t believe me. But you have to!” He looked so desperate for someone to believe him. Shaking her head, she held her hands up as a barrier between him and herself. There was something in his eyes. Something that disappeared when she rejected him as well. Like she had been his last hope. The last hope against…What? He reached out shoving a remote control device into her hand. Accepting it just so he would leave her alone, she took a step back. She had no idea what he wanted, so she ducked away hurrying off, somewhat surprised when he just stood there watching as if salvation had deserted him.

The look in his eye haunted her through out her walk home and the entire evening. When she turned on the tv to see what was new in the world, or what new invention had been made, she was shocked to see the picture of the man from earlier.

“In a sad turn of events, a man who chose to live on the streets has committed suicide.”

She stood staring unable to believe it. Had he been reaching out to her for help and when she walked away he… Sitting on her bed, she felt something in her pocket jab her leg. She leaned back pulling out the remote the man had given her. Her eyes flicked to the tv then back.

Turning the remote over in her hand, she turned her head trying to read the pencil on the back of it. ‘Point at the sky’ It said. She felt terrible about having abandoning the man in his time of need. Enough, she walked to her window staring at the sun descending the sky. She searched the remote of any sign of what button she should push, but there was no further instruction. The remote appeared to be an ordinary device. Old, but she knew what it was from her textbooks. With nothing else to be done, she figured she’d just push the power button. She pointed the remote at the sky and pushed the button.

To her horror, the sky fell into blazing red. The blue melted away across the sky passed the horizon. She stared at the collapsing star. This was what the hermit had been trying to tell her. Warn her about. Suddenly the past events made sense. The rockets of people ‘Scientists’ going out to explore space. Leaving the dying world. The domes. They hadn’t been luxury living. Had they put up this disguise for everyone that wasn’t worth something or important? 

“In this, the world of tomorrow, it seems like there is less and less to fear.” The newswoman went on to speak. “Science is bringing us so much now that we are able to focus on progression rather than survival. I don’t know about you, Jeff, but I feel like our future is bright.”

 

 

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Fantasy, Writing Prompts

Life without Death – 750 words

  • Word count: 750
  • Genre: Fantasy
  • Character: A vampire
  • Material: A pen
  • Sentence: “It’s too warm.”
  • Bonus: Winter is long and extremely cold.

 

“It’s too warm.” The old vampire whispered to his heir. Elliot sat next to him fidgeting with a pen. He didn’t know what to say to his master. They had never faced anything like this. Never in their lives, long as they had been, did they ever expect him to become mortal again. No one even knew how it happened. His master wouldn’t tell him anything on where he’d been or what he’d been doing. Now, he was dying.

Elliot pushed the logs on the fire around in an attempt to decrease the output of heat. His hazel eyes drifted up to the old man deteriorating before him. Where once a man of great power had stood, now the same had become feeble no longer able to get onto his feet. His black hair had become grey then white. It wouldn’t be long now.

After poking the fire, he set the stick aside picking back up the old fountain pen. It had been a gift from his father who had died a long time ago. His master had found him in the cemetery that day. He had promised that he would never die. He promised power beyond his dreams. He had promised a life outside of the mortal one. Not that it was true at all. At the time, he hadn’t know they could be turned back. It was one of the few ways to fight a vampire apparently. His master told him it wouldn’t happen to him, the old ways had died out, but here they were.

“Master…” He mumbled but the man waved his words away. Elliot almost let it go, but his anger stirred. “Master.” He said more firmly. Their eyes met. “If a witch has stolen your immortal existence from you, then the least we could do is repay the favor.” His master smiled at him. It infuriated him even more, but he held his tongue.

“Elliot…” His voice shook. “I told you.” He took a breath as if speaking was too much for him. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

He couldn’t believe the man. First, he went and got himself effectively killed, then said he didn’t have to worry about it. What if she came after him?! His nostrils flared. His master laughed enough to make himself cough.

“Don’t you understand, Elliot?” When his master got no response, he sighed. More gently, he continued. “A few days ago.”

“When the witch changed you.” Elliot interrupted with a growl. His eyebrows drew down darkening his expression. His master took a breath trying not to react to the provocation.

“A few days ago.” He continued pointedly. “I heard an old witch of mine. Alliessa. We knew each other centuries ago. She would hunt me. I would kill her kin. It was back and forth.” His hand gestured lightly in the air before falling back down. “Well,” He paused. “I heard she wasn’t dead but actually quite close to us. Hunting me quietly, but I heard about it from a friend.”  

Elliot hadn’t heard this part of the story. Hadn’t known it had existed. He focused his attention on what his master was telling him. His master wasn’t looking at him now.

“So. I decided to do the only thing I knew I could do. Without a doubt, I could handle the old witch.”

Understanding was slowly dawning on him. His lips twitched down. His eyebrows together and up. “Master…” He tried interrupting but the man didn’t stop.

“But…you would never survive were she to find us. So, instead of letting her come here. I found her. She was stronger than I had anticipated, but,” He smiled at his heir. “I had killed her for certain this time, but not without cost.” Elliot was staring at the floor feeling utterly horrible.

“Now you know why you don’t need to worry. Never had to.” He sat up with great effort putting a hand on Elliot’s shoulder. “I had become a vampire centuries ago because I thought there was nothing left for me in the mortal world. When I found you, I found what I had wanted years ago, but couldn’t enjoy. Now, I can at least enjoy my last few days with my son.” Elliot pressed his lips together. Human emotions bubbled up pushing past his barriers and down his cheeks.

“Master.” He choke. At the beckoning call, Elliot went over to him laying his head on his shoulder. “Father.”

 

Fantasy, Writing, Writing Prompts

Souless

  • Word count: 300
  • Genre: Drama
  • Character: A soulless man
  • Material: A wooden cross
  • Sentence: “Aren’t you afraid?”
  • Bonus: The story takes place two-hundred years from now.
  • Tod Lydon TrembleMae Jordon Beaulieu

 

 

“Aren’t you afraid?” The woman almost lowered the wooden cross, but kept her grip tight as she held the symbol in front of her. Tod just shrugged his shoulders. She wasn’t going to budge and they both knew it.

 

“I haven’t been afraid of death for a long time.” He let out his breath almost wishing she would just go through with it. Staring into her eyes, he could see her hesitance. He was too human in appearance and demeanor. THere likely was no way she would kill him. Especially in times like these where society had slowly taken a turn for the worse.

 

“I don’t care if you are or aren’t.” She tried sounding brave her own faltering voice belaying that.

 

“Then why did you ask?” He tilted his head almost imitating perfectly. After so many years, he couldn’t remember how to exactly do it. When she didn’t answer, he took a breath and sat down in his chair again. He didn’t have any plans, indeed he could never die, so none of this mattered. “The time you waste is your own.” He reached out toying with the chisel he had been using just moments before. When she lowered the cross, he lifted an eye brow.

 

“You…don’t seem like the others.” She whispered. Had this been anyone else, she would be dead right now. The Souless ones didn’t forgive mistakes like this. Just because one appeared to be different didn’t mean they were. She would swear she saw something else in his eyes no one else had. Well, none of the Souless that is.

 

“Your death shall not be on my hand nor will I be accountable for your blood when you make this mistake with someone who has the intent to try and consume your soule.” Like vampires the Souless were obsessed with taking what they didn’t have. The main difference was what they consume. When their eyes met, the Souless had the ability to eat the human’s soule if contact was made long enough and the Souless skilled. Most of the time, they had to be close enough to touch.

 

Mae slipped the cross into its loop on her pants. “I haven’t made it a habit to kill harmless people or anyone who…wasn’t aggressive.” The words didn’t sound quite right, but she supposed it would describe it well enough. Tod couldn’t help but reconsider her.

 

“I could just be smart and cause you to lower your guard so I could eat your soule.” When she laughed, he frowned in a purely human way.

 

“If you were, you’d be dead. Souless have tried it before. You aren’t that smart if you did try it.” She leaned a shoulder against the wood column. After a moment, she dared to ask. “Why…or…” She paused hesitating a moment. “How are you different than your…kind?” Her arms folded on her chest.

 

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. “Perhaps, it’s the long contained remorse for having killed so many in my youth as Souless unable to stop myself from eating any and everyone I could get close to. Maybe, it’s because I ate my whole family unable to stop myself. Or maybe…I don’t know.” He shook his head. “When the Souless first appeared, I remember the pure chaos.”

 

Mae’s eyes widened as he listened. What he talked about happened over two hundred years. She’d never met a Souless from the beginning. What did happen once the Souless lost their craving? She didn’t even know they could after time went on. Her teammates would have never believed her if she said she had a conversation with one of these beasts. No one had met one that could or would actually hold a conversation.

 

“After a while, I found I could fight the urge easier. I wandered farther and farther from humans because I didn’t want anyone else to die. Not that it worked. I still killed too many. Still ate so many.” He shook his head eyes dropping to the cross. Mae couldn’t believe it. A souless that actually wanted her to kill it. Just that fact made her shake her head at him.

 

Pushing off the wall, she turned heading back up the stairs that would take her to the city street. She hesitated as her foot stopped on the first step. “If…” She began but stopped. It would be insanely stupid no matter his amount of control, I mean he did just admit he couldn’t control it all the time. “Perhaps. If…You are feeling conversational. Perhaps, we can talk again. I’d,” She glanced over shoulder. His head was hanging as someone who had lost the courage to pull the trigger. She couldn’t assist in something like that. “I wouldn’t mind listening.” Turning, she ascended the stairs with the intent on hunting more, but she would remember this. This was the exception to the rule all Souless were vicious monsters, but it did prove they could become somewhat human again. That there might be a way to restore their humanity someday.

 

 

This one was really fun to write so I didn’t really stay within the word count limit. I might continue this one at some point. Paranormal, or dark fantasy seems easy for me to write.

 

Fantasy, Writing Prompts

It Was Her – Writing Prompt – 300 words

  • Word count: 300
  •  Genre: Fantasy
  •  Character: A superhero (White Crow)
  •  Material: A bottle of whiskey
  • Sentence: “It was her!”
  •  Bonus: Your character has lost someone dear.

     

     

    “It was her!” He slurred sloshing his bottle of whiskey when he gestured to the man next to him. Tears brimmed his eyes. “Why don’t you understand?” He shook his head with a growl. “It…was HER.”

    The man next to him didn’t seem to react except to press his lips together. How could anyone know how to react in this situation? It didn’t make much sense. A drunk man rambling on, even if the drunk man was a ‘superhero’. He had single handedly stopped the Ellis of Uthuan from continuing her rampage. Anyone would have been proud, welcomed home with honors, but when he had returned he didn’t really talk much except to say. ‘It was her.’

    Not many knew who the Ellis was, only that was her name and she came from the north with an army and magic at her call. Her power was rumored to destroy human soul. When the White Crow had come from his secluded home, people had been hopeful. He had shown up only during dire times, but always brought peace in his wake. His life was entirely secret as he disappeared once his task was finished.

    Now, he only stayed in their city drinking his days away muttering those three words. People had tried to understand what it meant. Many had asked him trying to shake it out of him. Villhem leaned over putting a hand on the once great superheroes’ shoulder.

    “No one knows what you mean, but I can tell it is a great burden to you. Your tab is paid by me.” He told him simply letting his hand fall. The drunk turned to him staring into his eyes with his own entirely white eyes.

    “It was her…” He whispered. “Why don’t you understand?” White Crow shook his head. “It was my wife.”

Military, Writing Prompts

Hope comes with the Sun – 550 words

Instead of giving the writing prompts a title like ‘Writing Prompt 50/51’ etc, I think I’m going to give them simple titles. It’ll be easier I’m hoping.

 

Word count: 550

Genre: Military

Character: A disobedient slave

Material: A guitar

Sentence: “How do you feel?”

Bonus: There seems to be no one left on the planet.

 

“How do you feel?” He lowered the broken guitar in his hand. The body of the instrument only held onto the neck by the strings, though some of those were broken as well. The slave in front of him held her arm in front of her trying to back away from her master. “Did it hurt?” He took a step towards her. The woman pulled her legs underneath her body so he wouldn’t have an easy target. The guitar clattered with a twang as it fell from his hand.

She had reached the back of the room. Her back pressed against the damp drywall. “Y-yes, Master…” Her voice failed her telling him that this time. He had gotten to her. “I-I’m sorry, Master? I…I promise I won’t do it again.” She stumbled over her words. Her gaze on the ground. When he didn’t answer, she dared to look up at his body. Her gaze roaming up to his face. She wouldn’t look in his eyes, but he wasn’t moving. Scanning his body, she tried to find any reason he wasn’t moving. Blood dripped from his mouth, but there was no wound.

“Master?” She whispered. Her voice sounding odd in the silence. It was only when she glanced around the room did she notice a man standing in the door way. His face twisted with rage. Her breath hitched. “I-I’m sorry!” She backed away farther trying to somehow merge with the wall behind her. There was no way she could tell why this new man was angry with her. Her bare feet shoved against the dusty floor caked with debri. Her arm stayed in front of her guarding against the blow that would come. It always did. “I didn’t do anything. I promise.” She couldn’t help the sob as she spoke. The footsteps on the man got closer.

“Sh…” He soothed, but it wasn’t a sound she ever felt comfort from. “He’s gone. No. You didn’t do it. I did.”

Fear snared her heart. A man strong enough to kill her master was a man strong enough to hurt her worse. Her lips quivered in a frown.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know you were down here…” His voice had gone so soft she couldn’t help but look passed her arms. His brown eyes were turned down. Why was he so sad? “I would have put an end to him sooner.” When he looked back up, he was extending his hand slowly toward her. “Would you allow me to take you out of here? The war is over. This doesn’t need to continue.”

The news struck her more than anything else had. It was over?

“The camp was liberated weeks ago. We…” He swallowed hard. “We didn’t know about this place.” His eyes flicked around but went back to her face. Reaching out again, he took her hand making the dried blood crack off her knuckles. “You’re safe now. This will never happen again. You’re free.” He pulled her out of the basement. Closing her eyes, she welcomed the sun on her face. She had thought she would never see the sun again. Now, with the sunlight glinting off her skin. She felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, it was over.

Romance, Writing Prompts

Short- To A Fresh Start

  • Word count: 700
  • Genre: Romance
  • Character: A heart-broken lover
  • Material: A pencil
  • Sentence: “I don’t want to ask for too much.”

Bonus: Your character is loved by everyone.

 

“I don’t want to ask for too much…” He trailed of unable to continue speaking. His fingers  continued turning and twisting the pencil in his hands. His green blue eyes stared at the curtain rippling from the A/C unit. He didn’t really see anything at this point. The whole situation had overwhelmed his mind and emotion to such a degree nothing was processing. “I mean. I had just…hoped.” He stopped talking again.

Hope was all he had at this point. A fragile thing glinting on the edge of a cliff teetering between falling into the abyss and rolling back to a lush forest.

“I…” He turned his gaze up at the woman standing there in her yellow sun dress. She was beautiful by anyone’s standard. Her brown hair  fell around her face curling lightly on her pale shoulders. While her make up was flawless, and her clothing well chosen, her beauty did not extend beneath the surface. Her narrowed blue eyes cut deep into his hair sending the glimmer of hope off the cliff. He swallowed hard. “Ok.” He whispered standing up from the wooden chair and tucking it into the table.

The woman folded her arms and turned from him effectively cutting him off. It wasn’t even as if he had asked for anything. He only wanted them to work out. She didn’t even want to be with him it seemed. This was it. The end. He didn’t think he could take any more of the cold shoulders, the ignoring and silent treatment.

Carefully, he set the pencil back in the cup so expertly arranged with the other items on the dining table. This place had been his home for three years. It was beautiful like the woman he had shared it with.

“If this is the way you want it.” She didn’t respond to him like she so often did. “I’m done with this.” That barely caught her attention. Perhaps, she thought he would be crawling back to her because tto her they always did. “If you won’t act like an adult.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. This had long been in the planning stage. It was spur of the moment, but now was as good a time as any. “I’m done with being treated like you should be worshiped but treat me like crud. I am a man.”

“I wish you would act like one.”

The words stopped him but only for a moment. “I am a man. It’s not because of sex like you will tell everyone, but because of your behavior. Your coldness.” He could tell she was pretending not to listen, and maybe she really wasn’t, but this part was for him. “You refuse to support me even on the best of days. Only when I present you with the appropriate gifts will you then maybe do something for me. I need someone that will be there for me.” He turned facing the door. “I’m actually glad you refused to marry me.” He could see her twitch from the corner of his eye. “Now I don’t have to serve you papers. “

He started for the door no longer hesitating. Only once he had all his things, he faced her again. “There will be no more gifts, no more money. I have cut you out of my life.” Now he had her full attention. Even as he stood there, she began screaming at him. She threw vases, bowls, or whatever she could grab. He had waited until he was at the door so he could use the door as a shield. He wasn’t even sure what she was saying at this point, or if she was saying anything. At first, he had intended to say more, but it felt done so he closed the door. His suitcases were in his car. Soon, her place of luxury would be gone. He would sell his house and move somewhere else. Some place that wouldn’t remind him of the long term mistreatment.

 

 

Writing Prompts

Writing prompt -First line

Random number- 1251

They’d had a lot of freedom back then and not just because their environment was safer – few children had been allowed to roam as much as they.

Perhaps this was the reason they had a certain fearlessness about them. Together they claimed they could conquer the world. The whole neighborhood had become their playground. No tree was safe from being climbed. No hole was left hidden. And when even their whole neighborhood had become too small for them. They turned to areas outside of their street. As long as they stayed together, neither felt afraid. They ran to the grocery store for Popsicle, or went to the park. No one ever bothered them. It was like something told everyone they were going to be okay.

Once in a while, they wondered why they were allowed to roam so far and freely, and the other children couldn’t. At first, they thought it was because they were so responsible. Their parents thought they were old enough, strong enough and good enough to be on their own. But as time wore on, they saw more and more parent with their children. More and more they began to wonder after their own. They would go home and there they would be wondering why they were back. There wouldn’t be much of an answer except for them to go back outside to play. In the beginning, there was no hesitation. With each year that passed, it was like something was screaming at them to stay, to yell at them to care if they were there or not.

They began to see their freedom as a lack of caring in their parents. Together, they postulated. What if something had happened to them when they were out? Would their parents notice? They began to test how much their parents cared.

At first, by just staying out too late, or leaving earlier. Their parents said no word. They brought home increasingly strange items. It would never matter what. The longer they stayed out, the happier their parents became. Or so they soon found out. One night, they even chose to stay in their treehouse all night. They watched to see if their parents would come out crying wondering where they were, but they saw adults going over. Bottles appeared in their hands. They laughed, watched the tv more, played games and did things they never did around them.

The morning after their night in the treehouse, they sat together thinking of what to do. Their parents didn’t care where they were here or there, home or not. They barely even acknowledged their existence. When they were there, they were sad. She even told him once, when she went home without him, she saw their mother crying. That had solidified it. They were going to leave. They weren’t ever going to come back. If their parents didn’t want them there, he told her. It didn’t matter. They would find someone who did want them.

He led her into the house resolving to get their things and leave.

“Last night, was the first good night we’ve had in a long time.”

They heard them talking.

“I felt like I was finally free.”

The relief in their voices brought them both to tears. They didn’t have to ask if they really wanted them or not. To them, it was clear. Their parents never did want them. That’s why they were always drinking from those bottles when they were near.

“Come on, Ellen.” He beckoned her. As they walked down the hallway to their bedrooms, they froze in the door way. There was nothing there. Their beds. Their toys. Nothing was there.

As they turned around, trudging towards the front door. He tried to console her as she sobbed in his chest. Their parents must of heard them because they stopped talking.

“Bye, Mom. Dad.” He managed to say as he went back out the front door.

What had they done? Did they do something wrong? Were they not good enough? Maybe they just didn’t want kids and they had come along by accident?

Standing out front of the house, they looked back at the house. They both quietly said good bye again before wondering off down the street. Now, they felt confused as to why they had such freedom. Why they hadn’t been wanted. Why they drank from those bottles when they were around and celebrated when they left.

That night was the worst. They sat all alone in the park swinging not sure what to do now. The days prior had been filled with such happiness, but now nothing seemed to hold the same thrill. A stranger walked by looked over at them before going wide eyed and hurrying on. That seemed to be the reaction to them these days.

“Sam.” Ellen whispered almost not daring to ask. “Why do think everyone seems to hate us? Did we do something wrong?” She turned her head to look at him on the swing next to her.

“I don’t think so.” He replied trying his best to be strong, for her at least. “I think it’s the same reason it’s always been.” Jumping off, he spun around trying to be enthusiastic to make her happier. “We’re responsible. We don’t do anything bad. Ever. We don’t hurt any animals. The police never have to worry about us. We don’t damage people’s stuff. We’re good kids. Now, come on, Ell. Let’s go find somewhere else to play. This place is gloomy.”

Turning on his heels, he began to lead her from the park, but seeing a woman standing there unnerved him. He put his sister behind him wary. They had never been afraid to be out at any time of day or night, but this woman scared him and Ellen. He puffed up trying to appear bigger than he was. It was his job to keep his sister safe.

“What do you want?” He asked in his strongest voice.

The woman came closer to them. Her greying hair tied back in a tight bun. The clothes were covered in flour, but had recently been patted with wet hands. Her blue eyes were soft and loving. The wrinkles on her face told of countless hours laughing and smiling.

“You look lost, Little Ones.” She said.

The girl clung close to him not sure what was going on. He tried his best to step away but now it felt impossible.

“What happened?” She sat on the stairs to the playground not coming closer as if sensing their distress.

“We…We can’t go home.” He told her, though he wasn’t sure why. “Our parents don’t want us any more.”

She nodded knowingly, even sad. “Why do you think that?”

Taking a deep breath and steeling his upper lip, he told her everything they had seen, all that had happened.

“Oh, Little Ones.” She went over to hold them both. It was a feeling they hadn’t felt in a long time. A glimmer of memory stirred in their heads.

“Grandma?” They asked. When she nodded they held onto her even tighter.

“My Little Ones.” She said again kissing their heads. “Come. Let me tell you about what happened.” Drawing them close, she sat down on the stair. “Your parents love you very much. It isn’t because they don’t want you. You see, there was an accident. They don’t see you because they can’t.” They looked up into her face somehow understanding now.

“It’s time to come home.” She smiled.