Fantasy, Writing, Writing Prompts

Alspring

  • Word count: 800
  • Genre: Suspense/fantasy
  • Character: A god
  • Material: A whistle
  • Sentence: “We can repair this.”
  • Bonus: Your story involves a damsel in distress.

 

“We can repair this.” The god said standing in front of the woman still curled up in the arms of the statue. Her brilliant red hair spilled over the marble arm almost touching the ground. Humans always such strange creatures to him. She lie there as if the world wasn’t suffering. Like the world wasn’t on the verge of collapse because of his twin brother.

Her blue eyes stared up into the statue’s eyes like a long lost lover.

“You look so much more handsome as a statue.” She started off saying. His face twisted. He wasn’t used to mortals speaking to him like this. “I wonder why artists always carve your face like this. It doesn’t really look like you.”

He folded his arms across his chest. Pressing his lips together, he glanced at the statue then the woman. “We don’t have a lot of options.” He ignored the insults. “If you will not do anything, I will leave you to wraith wandering the halls.” This got her attention, but he was already turned around walking away. He heard her fall from the statue assumably chasing after him. His ear perked hearing her stumble in her haste.

“I’m sorry. I…I’m just scared. I’ve never had to do this or anything like this.” She slowed to keep pace with him in a quick walk. The god was much taller than her so his pace was faster. Even among mortals, she was short. “What do we need to do?” She asked looking up into his face.

While he didn’t look handsome by human standards, he had a certain appeal. His grey eyes were hard set and determined. He had strong features but his face was thinner. His hair roam about like fire having a life of its own. He didn’t have such red hair as her, his being more strawberry blonde, very light strawberry blonde.

Biting her lip, she managed to catch his eye, but he appeared less than pleased.

“Do not expect me to react like your mortal counterparts.” His voice had dropped from the soothing musical lightness to a darker tone promising of unpleasant things. She stared at him shocked. “You will get nothing from me. I at first thought you might be the one I needed to save to help bring the world back to order. The prophecies even said I’d find the one we needed here, but you.” He stopped walking to face her. “Are not who we need. You only think of your simple mortal needs. Cowering. Insulting men. Do you think I can not see your thoughts? I am no mortal. I know.” His grey eyes turned into storms making her draw back. “You are safe for now, Mortal, but you are no longer requested to join the Hunt.” He spun around growling sounding like thunder. The woman stood behind him shocked but didn’t follow. How could he had thought she of all people was the one to bring order to Life and Death?  

He left the broken temple feeling less than stellar. His mission here today had failed. The only reason he had left his home was to find her. Well, not her from inside the temple reeking of manipulation and ego, but the one that was supposed to be the balance. He dropped himself on a broken column staring at the ground. His mother would be disappointed were he to return with nothing.

The stars like a scale hanging in the sky. A balance between the sun and the moon, to Life and Death. She will be the hands to hold each side like a bridge between the beginning and the end. Mortals climb from one hand and across her back to the other. While the brothers judge whether mortal men shall pass from the plate.

It had been the final words spoken to him and his twin before she too had passed from this finite world. She had spoken of it too, but he had remembered too late. His brother took her to his realm beyond. Their mother said she would stay with him for a time then his brother for a time. That hadn’t bothered him. It was the time to come. When she said Death would reign.

The war broke out and his people started dying. The woman his mother spoke of was to stop Life from bringing in those not suppose to be there, but also stop Death from taking those not ready. A mediator between the two.

A noise brought his eyes from the ground. When he saw the creature chasing one of his people, he couldn’t just sit idle. He jumped from his place running after them. They were heading for the river. THe creature probably aimed to drown the mortal. He leapt in front of it brandishing his spear. Light burst from the tip making the creature screeched falling backward tripping over its own massive tail. Lowering the spear, he turned to the woman cowering in the nook of an oak.

“No need to fear.” He soothed. When she looked up, he tilted his head. Her grey eyes looked so much like his own. “Woman. Whence have you come?” He asked. She held her knees to her chest letting her brown hair fall in front of her hiding her. “If you wish me to leave, I shall, but…I don’t bring and harm with me.”

She took a handkerchief from her dress pocket wiping her nose. “Ah…It’s…It’s not that.” Her alto drifted out from behind her curtain of hair. “I just…” He could hear her take a deep breath. “Need a minute.” The god stood waiting patient.

When she lifted her head, she met his eyes not with defiance, like he’d seen in some, or lust. In her eyes, he could see how broken she was. There wasn’t a hint of arrogance within her. “Woman…” He said again but more softly. “Where have you come from?” Now he was more concerned for her than curious. The look in her eye spoke more for her than her silence.

“I don’t know. All I remember is…it was dark.” Her head turned trying to hide what might be seen. Things she didn’t want him to know, but she didn’t know why. “I…I know…” She tried to gauge how much she could tell him. When he dropped into a crouch in front of her, she managed to see into his face. “I…didn’t like it at all.” She whispered now that he was so close. His eyebrows drew together compassion in his eyes. “It hurt…” Her lips curled down. All at once, she was in his arms sobbing.

From Life’s arms, a damsel is brought. Piece by piece will the bridge between Life and Death be wrought.

He knelt holding her wondering at the events playing out this day. His mother had been right. Not that he doubted, but she had been right. “Come. We will go to my home. It is neither dark, or painful there.” Scooping her up, he straightened.

She couldn’t help but be worried about this. What other choice did she have? If she asked to go, she could feel he would let her, but that creature that had chased her was still out there. She ended up nodding. Shortly after he started walking, exhaustion overtook her. Her eyes gradually closed leaving her sleeping in his arms.

 

When she awoke next, she was lying in a meadow. Where they had just come from had the crisp air of autumn. Here, there was the warmth of spring. She could see the man, or god who had saved her wandering around, but she couldn’t tell what he was doing. Standing up, she brushed off her dress and straightened it out.

“Where are we?” She called out.

He turned letting go of a branch he had been holding. A smile stole across his face. “My home. Alspring.”

 

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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.

Writing Prompts

Writing Prompt – 500 words

I’m trying out a new writing prompt site. I’m kinda liking it. The site seems to have everything I need for writing. Lately it’s been really crazy over here. My computer got locked, so I couldn’t do anything with it. It was so frustrating, but luckily someone was able to help me out. Now I can get back to writing!

Word count

500 words

Genre

Suspense

Character

A bank counter

Material

A fridge

Sentence to use

“I can’t see you.”

“I can’t see you.”

 

The words drifted out filling the dining room dropping the temperature. Willard stopped writing on the paper. The numbers, facts, and figures blurred in front of his eyes. His throat convulsed reflexively. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. The voice just didn’t go away. He thought if he could make it leave him alone. If he could hide. It hadn’t worked.

 

“Where did you go?”

 

The voice drifted out again almost making his eyes roll back in their sockets. It didn’t sound like a child, or a woman, or anyone he recognized, but somehow all of them. He thought he felt in the voice he could hear someone he knew, but also there wasn’t anyone who sounded like that. The sound seemed to change every time he listened like it was trying to find the correct voice to use. Its indecisiveness was his only relief. It hadn’t found a voice that worked well enough yet. As long as it didn’t, he could continue on.

 

“Why are you hiding?”

 

He steadied his hands so he could keep writing. His work needed this in by tomorrow. At first, he hadn’t wanted to, but he didn’t finish at the office in time. What else was he supposed to do? He really needed this job. This company gave him security and good pay. The work wasn’t demanding most of the time and he got sick leave.

His thoughts were abandoning him. He found he was having a harder time thinking now that it was 10 p.m. The voice only called out at this time. When he had first moved in, he had asked about it but no one knew what he was talking about. Not wanting to be the resident crazy, he had kept it to himself.

 

“Are we playing a game?”

 

He took a deep breath. Why wouldn’t it leave him alone? Despite his best effort, he found himself responding.

“No. I’m not. I’m trying to work. Now leave me alone.” Willard said.

His hand ran through his dark thinning hair as he tried to compose himself. Talking into the air made him feel even crazier. What if this was a symptom of something? Was his mind breaking? His family didn’t have any tendencies.

 

“Oh? Aren’t we?”

 

His eyes unfocused off of the paper onto the fridge in front of him. He really shouldn’t respond. Yet, it enticed him. “No.” He shook his head dropping his gaze to the numbers that had once looked so familiar. He had moved the fridge in front of the wall to block where it was coming from.

The voice was deciding too quickly. Responding more often. It had once seemed like a friendly neighbor talking with him or at him. After a few weeks, he had noticed it sounded less ambiguous and more, familiar. He would swear he could feel it trying words in its nonexistent mouth. When it settled, he felt fear grip him. He had lost.

 

“I am.”