Friday, September 23, 2016

Friday Prompt (and a GIVEAWAY!)

Shannon Dittemore is the author of the Angel Eyes trilogy. She has an overactive imagination and a passion for truth. Her lifelong journey to combine the two is responsible for a stint at Portland Bible College, performances with local theater companies, and a love of all things literary. When she isn’t writing, she spends her days with her husband, Matt, imagining things unseen and chasing their two children around their home in Northern California. To connect with Shan, check out her website, FB, Twitter, Instagram, or Pinterest.

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for participating in the Friday Prompt challenge. I read every single one and adored them. Seriously. You guys are so creative and talented. Please, please keep writing. 

I wanted to announce the winner who was randomly selected. Here's a screenshot of the entry. I've chosen to do it this way, because I don't know Rose's last name or her email address. I'll try to reach out through the Go Teen Writers FB page, but Rose, you're welcome to email me at admin@shannondittemore.com and we can discuss your book choice!

 
***

Hey friends! Friday is so bright and shiny. Makes me want to hug it all day long.

Today, we're keeping it simple. I've given you a haunting little prompt but there's a twist! For some extra motivation, I'll check the comments section on Monday and randomly select one writer as the winner!

"What does the winner get?" you ask.

How about a book of the winner's choosing from The Book Depository? That's right. Any book (under $15) is all yours if your prompt response is chosen. If you're under 18 years of age, I'll need one of your parents to approve the book choice of course.

Sound fun?! I think it does! Here's how it works. I'll start you off with a sentence or two and YOU give me a paragraph or so to follow it up. Be creative! Have fun! And check back Monday afternoon. I'll update this blog post with the winner's name and details.

Here's that prompt for ya:


Now go, write! And if you're still in the giveaway mood afterward, check out my Instagram. I've got a lovely fall giveaway running and it's easy peasy to enter.

131 comments:

  1. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. She turned and rummaged through the duffel bag on the dusty floorboards. The chains rattled as she pulled them from the bag and slung them over her shoulders. She swiped up the bag and crept along the hallway to the cupboard at its end.
    Any moment Professor West would bring the customers this way. The ploy he’d hired her for required her to shake the chains for ten seconds and then press the button by her hip to swing open the hidden door.

    ReplyDelete
  2. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the door locked into place. There was only one thing left to do. Stella turned away from the door and rummaged through the worn sheepskin pockets that formed a ragged apron around her waist. Her search came up empty--they had taken everything when she was blindfolded. “Rats.” She spun and began pacing up and down, her snub-nosed traveller’s boot making a soft smudging sound on the stone. So much for her one chance of escape. She halted midstep and looked again to the big door. It was made of solid oak; not much chance of smashing through. She scurried to it and braced her fingers and the toes of her boot on the crossbeams. She climbed up and stared at a tiny smoked glass window, barred by wood on the outside. She shifted her weight to one hand and curled the other into a tight fist beside her head. Here goes nothing. She leaned as far out from the door as was safe, then punched the glass with all her might. Pain resonated through her knuckles, and she fell to the floor, clutching her fist. She glared up at the window. Not a crack. “Double rats. What do I do now?”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sorry it's so long...it was just too fun to write! XD

      Delete
    2. Whoops! I messed up on the prompt. I meant to say, "...as the lock snapped into place." Sorry!

      Delete
    3. So much fun! I think Stella is my kind of heroine!

      Delete
    4. Thanks! Glad you like her. :D

      Delete
    5. I like your alliterate sentence:

      She spun and began pacing up and down, her snub-nosed traveller’s boot making a soft smudging sound on the stone.

      So much fun to read! :)

      Delete
    6. Thank you, Mallory! :) I'm glad to hear you enjoyed reading it.

      Delete
  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  4. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.
    Ignoring the look her partner gave her, Sara put the key in her pocket and carefully checked her handy work. Paranoid or not, she always had to. And her fingers confirmed that the door wouldn't be opening any time soon. The prisoner was locked up tight. Mission accomplished.
    "Done," Sara said, brushing her hands off. "Three down, one to go."
    She turned to her partner - but her partner wasn't there.
    Sara's eyes narrowed. "Wha-"
    And then she felt a cold dagger press up against her neck.
    Apparently this particular prisoner had friends.

    ~ Savannah
    scattered-scribblings.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Great, Savannah! What a cool idea!

      Delete
    2. Thanks, Olivia! It was fun to write :D.

      ~ Savannah
      scattered-scribblings.blogspot.com

      Delete
  5. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. So far every trick Ruin taught him had failed. Yet Cavin had one more trick, one that his hated teacher couldn't possibly execute. He pulled off his right glove, exposing metal. While the strange silver fingers and wrist set him apart from the other slave warriors, it did come in handy at times. Curling the fingers into a fist, he glanced once more at the door. He didn't want to go back to his Masters. He didn't want to go back to the beatings, the pain, the days without food or sleep. But what could these new men want? Why had they taken him away? The memories of their kind words (though he didn't understand the language) echoed through his mind. Time and time again he had tried to escape and they hadn't beaten him for it, like his first Masters, only brought him back with long-suffering. He must be getting close to their anger now, for them to finally lock him in a metal cell.

    He didn't want to go back, but he didn't want to stay. The world was nothing but pain, and if he ran away, then no one could hurt him, not even these strangers with kind words. Whatever they wanted from him, he wasn't going to find out. Cavin placed his fist on the door, then pulled his elbow back and punched with all the strength he had. Sparks flew, and the door gave beneath his knuckles.


    by Julian Daventry (known as Anonymous, because she doesn't have an account with any of the "Comment as" selections...)

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sorry this is so long. I just couldn't stop. Thank you for the inspiration, Mrs. Dittemore!


    The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place.

    There was only one thing left to do.

    I drew my dirk and pointed it at his chest. “Look, sir. If you don’t let me go, I’ll have to fight my way out.”

    “Fight your way out of your life?” He tossed his curled wig and rolled his half shut eyes, a leer twisting his lip. “My dear boy, why do you insist on making things so difficult? I tell you, ’tis easy. All I need is the Rebel’s name.”

    “I’ve sworn it, sir. I’ll never tell.”

    “Oh, shame, come now—”

    “Sir, don’t make this fight unfair for both of us. Draw your tool or I’ll have to slay you as you are.”

    “Pray, don’t bother, life’s charm,” he drawled, reaching once more for the tray on the dresser, and downing half a glass. He refilled it and came toward me. “The finest of spirits, I assure you, my heart of hearts. Pray, to your health—do pree a draught—”

    With a stroke, I clove the glass and sent the bottle to the carpet.

    “This is the last time I say this, sir. Draw your tool.”

    He gaped at me a moment more, his hands still curved as though he yet clutched those vessels of sherry.

    Then he set his mouth, straightened his shoulders. “As you wish.” He drew out his rapier and pointed it. “En garde, petit monsieur.” He sprang forward like a snake.

    I deflected his blow with the full force of my arm. There was a flash, a pang in my wrist. Something silver sailed in an arc to the floor. My throat stung.

    “It’s not so difficult, young coward. Just a name. Just a name…”

    The edge slid deeper. Rockets shot up my neck and something slicked down, thicker, stickier than sweat. I gasped, but the air never reached my lungs.

    “Meghra,” I choked. “Her name—Meghra.”

    He grinned. “I always knew you would make a fine traitor.” A shaft of fire seared my throat, and my head struck the floor. “I am sorry to cause you the slightest inconvenience or discomfort—but they would kill you anyway, when they found out. Wouldn’t they, my fairest faith?”

    Throbbing—his receding footsteps, or my head, or my heart. Or the words, ever reiterating in my mind: “Live for the Revolution, die for the Revolution.”

    “Don’t worry, Ma,” I whispered. “Your name dies with me.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Why is it that upon rethinking, my response sounds so stupid? Everyone, you are free to agree.

      Delete
    2. Well, I disagree, Hanan. Your response was awesome, in a shocking/horrifying/moving kind of way. So creative and fresh!

      Delete
    3. I liked the way you wrote this. Very creative. This part in particular was just fantastic:

      The edge slid deeper. Rockets shot up my neck and something slicked down, thicker, stickier than sweat.

      This gave me chills and surprised me. :) Nice work!

      Delete
    4. Stellar! Brave hero and and a sword fight! Awesome.

      Delete
  7. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. I reared back onto my haunches, reaching up into the leafless elm that stood by the building, to retrieve my human. Soon she'd be trained enough to accompany me, but as yet it was safer to stash her out of the way during the scouting part of each mission. The clever little thing was already learning a few draconic words, and as I cradled her to my chest and wheeled away she piped "Death?" I managed two leaps away, wings flung wide, before roaring heat blossomed behind me. I paused, crouching, head down and wings curled around my human to protect her and let my armored back take the shock wave. As it subsided, I reassured her, "Yes, death. Another blow struck for the rebellion, and there will be no tell-tales this time. Come." I flared my wings and leaped upwards with an exultant roar, and in my claws the girl shrieked with joy.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Love this! Great voice, intriguing concept. I hope you're writing a book set in this world.

      Delete
    2. Congratulations on winning the giveaway, Rose!

      Delete
  8. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. Unfortunately I seemed to have forgotten what it was.
    A rattling in the window jogged my memory. One of the minor dragons was squeezing between the bars, its tail twisting like a cat's as it tried to get its haunches through. It plopped onto the floor in front of me, grinning ridiculously.
    "Yes, I know, you got through a window. You must be so proud," I told it. "Proof for none of the world to see that you aren't too fat yet."
    It kept on grinning, but it did open its front claws to show me it held a key.
    "That's right, make yourself useful," I said, turning to the door. Since the lock was very obviously on the outside, I was talking to myself just as much as to the dragon, but I didn't care to admit that at the time.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You know what's funny? It's almost as if this and the previous two responses somehow are related. Mine started with a rebellion and a traitor (pretend-traitor, anyway). Then in Rose's one, there's a rebellion, a traitor mentioned, and a dragon with his girl. Then in yours, Sophie, there is a dragon and a girl! Did you notice? Neat coincidence, don't you think?

      Delete
    2. *whispers* As parallel worlds scrape edges, young and impressionable writers in all the worlds continue to write, their stories acquiring eerie meta-connections as they each unconsciously sense the nearby world...

      Delete
    3. Okay, that is seriously awesome, Rose XD. Someone needs to do something about this ...

      Love what you wrote, Sophia!

      ~ Savannah
      scattered-scribblings.blogspot.com

      Delete
    4. Love, love, love! Dragons with smarts. Love it.

      Delete
  9. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. Shira desperately scrabbled at her bag, her fingers working double time to undo the ties. The bag opened. She reached inside, hoping, praying...

    There were still a few handfuls of salt remaining, just enough to make a solid line before the door. Just enough to trap it, for Shira to be safe. Just enough. Not a crystal more.

    Shira sagged back against the cold stone wall, gasping. If she couldn't find more salt in the castle kitchens, she probably wouldn't get the chance to leave the building. She had to move. Now.

    Cold air burned her lungs as she struggled to her feet. The kitchens couldn't be too far. A few sets of stairs, a few corridors. It could be done.

    An icy hand grabbed her collar, another her hair. A shimmering silver child, pale and cold as snow at night, materialized behind her. Shira's body obeyed the ghost's silent command, locking up. Her throat tightened. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak.

    She wouldn't make it to the kitchens.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What's the deal with the salt? Intriguing. Makes me want to read more. :)

      Delete
    2. Seems to me that salt protects one from ghosts . . . Quite a "spinner" of tales you are, Lily!

      Delete
    3. Thank you both! I used the idea of salt circles protecting people from witches and other baddies, Anon.

      Delete
    4. I, too, would like to know about the salt! Super fun. Great voice.

      Delete
  10. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. L pulled out her last syringe. The only fear she had was of surviving and having to live without her powers. She shot a final look at Six and Nine. This was their last moment together, and none of them could say anything. They didn't want to. L slammed the needle into her arm. Six shouted something, but the drug was already flowing through her system. The rush, the pure energy, the rage. Fire lit up in her eyes.

    The soldiers outside the door fell silent at the screams. Their skin went white as the door began to melt, catching fire around the edges. They had trapped a monster, and death would be their reward.

    ReplyDelete
  11. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. L pulled out her last syringe. The only fear she had was of surviving and having to live without her powers. She shot a final look at Six and Nine. This was their last moment together, and none of them could say anything. They didn't want to. L slammed the needle into her arm. Six shouted something, but the drug was already flowing through her system. The rush, the pure energy, the rage. Fire lit up in her eyes.

    The soldiers outside the door fell silent at the screams. Their skin went white as the door began to melt, catching fire around the edges. They had trapped a monster, and death would be their reward.

    ReplyDelete
  12. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. Milo fell to his knees on the stone floor, and strained to see the stars through the barred window high above. "Oh Lord of heaven, I knew this day would come. I knew deciding to follow you would come with a cost, and I thought I was prepared to pay it. But then it seemed so distant, and now when it looms near...I'm terrified. If it was my choice, I'd crumble under this strain...but I know... I know your Spirit is in me, and You can give me the strength to walk this path. Please, Lord, give me strength, strength to face even death."

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Wow, Bethany. Makes me feel guilty for the times I look to material solutions instead of Heavenly ones. Thanks for sharing!

      Delete
    2. Yes, thank you for sharing! God gives us strength everyday. <3

      Delete
    3. Heart-wrenching. Interesting where our minds go when we see a prompt about being locked up.

      Delete
    4. Thanks all! This prompt worked perfectly for a character in the book I'm writing right now.

      Delete
  13. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the door locked into place. There was only one thing left to do.

    Cold beads of sweat crawled to the top of Drace's skin as he sunk to his knees. He knew the door would not move, not even if he hurled every ounce of his magick towards the ebony. Perhaps it would have been positively simple for Skagit like Mordryn, but Drace could hardly pull a mug of ale towards himself. And an ebony door designed specifically by Akavarin Mallus for nothing other than pain and malice was slightly different to floating flying beverages, as far as he knew.

    He clawed at the floor and sobbed. Why did he have to be bound to some useless Telekinesis spell when there was something so much more powerful out there? He'd heard that Gornarvi mages could blow down walls with a snap of their fingers, or lift the rooves of houses as though they were biscuit tins. Biscuits, he thought. Why do I always have to think about gods-damned biscuits? He would have laughed, if he wasn't going to starve to death.

    He glanced over his shoulder and saw the iron table addorned with knives and saws and cauterising stones. Everything he needed to survive. He was going to do this--he had to. Slitting his throat was always an option, but Drace Mithran was not used to giving up quite so easily. He was Skagit. A force to be reckoned with.

    Drace's stomach rumbled, rippling through to the tips of his fingers. He would survive this, and he didn't care what he had to do in order to keep his heart beating. So he limped to the torch hanging on the wall, before carefully heating the surface of the cauterising stone. He placed it down nearby and took a deep breath. No more stalling.

    So Drace lifted his arm to his teeth and bit into his flesh.

    When he ate other people, Drace never felt guilty. Eating yourself is another matter entirely, of course, but he didn't feel guilty then either. He was hungry--ferociously, ravenously hungry--and all he could think about was the feral need screaming in the back of his mind, louder and more desperate than the pain.

    Drace decided that he tasted like chicken.

    (Sorry for the length and mild gruesomeness! XD)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What a twist! I could die laughing, Charlotte. Thanks for that!

      Delete
    2. Ahaha, glad you liked it! Dark humour is my writing in a nutshell XD

      Delete
  14. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. I had held back my gift for long enough. I closed my eyes, but I did not have to build it for long. I could feel it, burning through me as it coursed through each vein and each corner of my body. It rose to the surface within a few seconds, and with a mighty growl, I let go of it.
    Fire, wind, and thunder erupted as one, and I stood protected amidst it all. When all was quiet, I opened my eyes to see... nothing. The sky instead of cold walls. Burned ground where the huge building had stood moments ago.
    I had broken my promise to myself. Perhaps some could call it a relapse. But I was alive. And nobody could hold me.
    A smirk lifted a corner of my lips as I strode forward with purpose.

    ReplyDelete
  15. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. Anne heaved her pack onto her shoulders and ran. She ran straight into the forest, not caring about the dragons and wolves and other things that the villagers had always said would eat people. She wasn't scared of those things anymore. Very little could scare her now. Learning the secrets and scandals of your lineage had that effect, apparently.
    She couldn't go back to the village. She had to run.

    ReplyDelete
  16. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped in place. There was only one thing left to do. He ran. He ran from everything he knew. His home, his friends, his family, God. Why he was running from God, he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was because He had taken everything in his life away, and filled it with grief, and yet he still heard God speak these words to him, 'Trust in Me.' Ha, yeah, trust Him, so that He can have complete control over his life? Rip it to shreds if that's what He wanted to do? Devin stopped, he fell to his knees. His chest heaved as he gasped for breath. Tears were streaming down his face. "Why God? Why do you do this to me?" Devin let his head drop into his hands. "Because I love you." His head snapped up. The voice came so clearly, he could've sworn it was right next to him. "I will always be with you, no matter what." A sort of peace filled Devin's heart. "Thanks God." He whispered.

    ReplyDelete
  17. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. He drew the key from the lock and held it in his hand.

    Turning on his heel, he faced the open air. The fog of dawn gathered on the edges of the fields, and the only inhabitants of sky and path other than himself were the birds. Behind him, yet oblivious to his fate, was Durnham- sealed within walls that had withstood the rise and fall of kings and empires. Before him lay a deep pool of black water, waiting to swallow up whatever was given it.

    He clutched the key in his hand so that the rust bit into the skin. Nothing could eat through that stone. No one could break down that door. And Durnham, that fat simperer and lover of ruined castles would never see the sun rise over his wedding day. Durnham, who had crushed his dreams and destroyed his hopes, who had stolen Serina's heart away from him.

    He held the key over the water. It gleamed wetly, already reflecting its anticipated gift. He remembered how happy she had been at Durnham's side yesterday! He had been stunned, staggered as much as though she had shot him in the heart. The engagement ring had been in his pocket. An emerald, of course. And the question had been on his lips. A tear, hot with rage and grief, fell into the black water, and the key's image wavered.

    Durnham came out a few minutes later and found him sitting on a rock, staring off into the distance. The chubby fellow beamed at the sunrise. "Fine old place. Thirteenth century I'd say. But we'd best head back if we're to be five miles from here by breakfast. Ready for the challenge, old chap?"

    The other stood up and put on his hat. "Ready," he said.

    ReplyDelete
  18. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. As the guard vanishes from sight, I tug against my chained arms as I bring my boot up as I high as I can. I just barely see the glint of the pin tucked inside the leather, and it spurs me onward.

    I bring my mouth to meet the cuff of my boot. It's a stretch, but I can just barely make it far enough down to snag the pin between my teeth. The pin now safely gripped in my incisors, I twist my head to the side. My left arm is chained so that it's high above my head, but the guard did a sloppy job on my right arm, chaining it to the wall just above my head. I shove the pin into the lock on the right chain with my teeth, wiggling it around until I hear a click. The chain falls to the ground, hitting the stone floor with a loud clink.

    Footsteps sound in the hallway outside of my cell, and I quickly transfer the pin from my teeth to my now-freed hand. It only takes me a second to free my other hand.

    My eyes flit to the door to the cell as the footsteps get closer. I hold my breath as the sound approaches my cell, hoping they don't stop.

    But they do. The guard is just outside my door, and he yells into my cell. "What's going on in there?"

    I don't reply, sliding across the small room to the lone window on the other side. There's only two bars across it, and I can slip through them easily because of my slight build. I sit on the edge of the stones for a moment, the height of my jump daunting me. But as soon as the guard thrusts open the door to the cell, I know I have no choice.

    I slide off of the ledge feet first, plummeting downwards. The air tears through my hair and ragged clothing, but only for a moment. My descent is short lived, cut off as my body smashes into the water below.

    ReplyDelete
  19. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.
    "If you had the chance to see the future, would you take it?" Her question was so simple that most people could answer it.
    I held two keys in my hands, one labeled "Future" and one labeled "Present."
    Maybe the better question was "Are you satisfied to live in the moment?"
    That I could answer safely.
    "Yes." I threw the Future key to the ground and used the remaining key to unlock the door.
    Everything faded and I was outside again.
    A woman laughed. "You're the first to choose present. You're a smart one."

    ReplyDelete
  20. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. Write the note that would make her a millionaire. If all went well, she'd have her money by next week. That gave the former senator plenty of time to gather his resources. If he ever wanted to see his precious son again, he'd make sure of it.

    "Let me out of here!" The voice came out muffled on the other side of the door.

    "In time," she said. First, she'd give the senator his just reward. He would reap what he had sown in her.

    ReplyDelete
  21. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.

    "Don't die." I muttered, as I stepped into the blazing sunlight of the arena.

    If I had expected to be greeted by the sudden rumbling murmur of a thousand voices cheering me on to my doom, then I was disappointed.

    I finally understood what Verdi meant that day when she'd said, "The silence was deafening."

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This is incredible.

      Delete
    2. Love this. Locked out instead of in. Totally changes the prompt, doesn't it?

      Delete
  22. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. Wait and see if the cell was actually as secure as they said it was.

    He hated waiting.

    He leaned against the door. There wasn't a sound from within. Had the fire mage really given up that fast? If he knew anything about mages, the one he had just imprisoned would be cooking up a really nasty plan right about--

    There was a giant explosion in the cell. He fell over in surprise.

    --now. He scrambled to his feet and unlocked the door. A giant, smoking hole, had been burned into the back wall. It was ringed with melted rock that looked somewhat like boiling orange marmalade. The mage was gone. Figures. He'd find a better cell next time.

    If there was a next time. Catching the same mage twice was impossible. Or so they said. But they had also said that there was no way to break out of the cell that had held someone for all of five seconds.

    "And look how wrong they were?" he muttered, leaping out of the hole. He'd have to prove them wrong again.

    ReplyDelete
  23. I apologize in advance for the puns.

    -

    The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.

    "Dad?" Circe called into the night. There was no response. The cemetery was dead silent and little wisps of fog drifted through the rusty gate and across the grass, just like a totally stereotypical low-budget horror movie cemetery effect. Circe wouldn't have felt that afraid if she hadn't just locked herself in. She could be pretty fast for short stints of time. She could have bolted away if she'd needed to. But the note had been clear: 'Come to the Middleton Cemetery. Midnight. Bolt the door. Bring Red Vines.'

    She crossed through the crisp air to a very small, unassuming obelisk-shaped grave in the back. "Hello?" Again, no response. The idea that this could be a hoax had crossed her mind once or twice. If it was, the perpetrator would probably end up regretting it. And if it wasn't... She shivered in anticipation. She was more afraid of the real thing - not because the real thing meant talking to a dead guy, but because the real thing meant facing her emotions. She had never been scared of the dark, or pain, or death, or spiders (that was a lie she told herself - she was definitely a little scared of spiders), but she was absolutely terrified of having to meet her father for the first time. She balanced the Red Vines package on the tip of the obelisk. "Um... I brought the thing you wanted."

    "Thank you," said a warm but grave voice behind her. She spun around. Ten feet away, standing seven feet tall in full gothic garb glory, was none other than the King of the Underworld. "You have no idea how hard it is to find those Downstairs."

    ReplyDelete
  24. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.

    Mark knew that what he was about to do was worse then death, but he had no other choice. His captor was a tricky man. Igor believed that brute force was for men with more muscle then brains. He would get what he needed without brute force.

    If Mark had a knife with him, he would have stabbed himself, but the guards had been too thorough. The room he was was empty. Not so much as a piece of straw with which to choke himself.

    So be it.

    Mark took a deep breath and opened his mind to the people around him. Not just the guards or the building or even the country he was in.

    His mentor's warning rang cleary in his mind, "Focus on a single target. If you focus on many then you will no be able to pull yourself back. You will lose your mind."

    Mark felt himself dissolving as he divided and sub-divided into smaller and smaller pieces until the body he was in now was just one of several million vessels.

    "Pass the salt will you, honey," Mark said to Igor as he entered.

    Igor blinked, "What?"

    "Now Charlie, be a good lad while your dad and I are gone," Mark instructed Igor.

    Igor frowned quit that.

    "No, I won't quit my job, I am about to get a bonus," Mark replied.

    One of the guards turned to Igor, "Should we knock some sense into him?'

    "I haven't got any change, dear, and I don't approve of you playing so many arcade games anyway," Mark said.

    Igor ground his teeth in frustration. He knew he had been beaten.

    ReplyDelete
  25. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.
    Oliver turned on Zay. “What were you thinking? They almost caught us!”
    That thing was yelling at his companion.
    Zay’s eyes were turning blue in annoyance. “It’s not my fault. If you hadn’t knocked over that stack of kitchen appliances, they probably wouldn’t have known we were here in the first place.”
    “But you—”
    BANG. The door shook with the hammering of fists.
    “. . . Let’s just go.”

    ReplyDelete
  26. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.
    "Time to panic," Eagle laughed nervously as the look on Rose's face. Normally the princess's pale face would be lit with a smile, a smile that would make Eagle's knees quake. Now her dark eyes shot daggers at him. He'd blown it... and on the day he was going to ask her out, too.
    "What...were...you...thinking?" Rose snapped, jabbing her finger at his chest. "Thanks to you, we're trapped in this rotting old dungeon with no means of escaping, and no weapons to defend us against whatever could be down here with us."
    "You mentioned you liked exploring," Eagle said weakly. "I just thought - "
    "Forget it. You're always doing things like this, leaping before looking." Eagle winced; she was probably referring to the time when he burst into her room because he heard the clang of swords. 'Course, he'd thought he was saving her life and instead she'd shown herself to be quite the swords-woman...
    "...Sorry..."

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Absolutely delightful! I love this style of humor!

      Delete
    2. A good-hearted, mistake-laden hero! Love it.

      Delete
  27. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.
    I leaned against the door, bats pounding in my chest. The room I was in was windowless. There was only a small burst of light coming from beneath the crack in the door.
    As my eyes were adjusting to the light, I searched around the room for any glass. There was a glint of a small mirror oddly positioned on the wall. I reached into my pocket and grabbed a rock I had picked up earlier, just for this occasion. I pressed it into my palm, bracing myself for what was to come. I took in a deep breath and pounded the rock into the mirror.
    I had expected the mirror to crumble in just one swift blow, but it only made a small crack. I pounded it again, inches away from where I had hit it last. The mirror burst like a shiny, glass flame exploding out of the wall. Making large gashes on my hand, but I didn't care because beneath it was a single leaf, the leaf that I would use to destroy the universe.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. "Bats pounding in my chest"... This and everything about your paragraph is brilliant! Great job!

      Delete
    2. "to destroy the universe" Great line.

      Delete
  28. "The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped in place. There was only one thing left to do... chew my arm off."

    "What?" Isabelle smacked Zack's arm and scowled up at him. At five,the expression was more amusing than it was intimidating and Zack couldn't help but laugh.

    "You don't believe me?" he asked.

    Her nose crinkled. "You still have both arms."

    The corners of his mouth quivered from the effort it took not to smile. "Do not."

    "Do too!"

    He pilled his arm back up through the sleeve of his shirt and swatted her with empty cuff. "How dare you mock me."

    Isabelle didn't seem to find his act as funny as he did. "Mom," she yelled into the kitchen, "Zack's being mean."

    ReplyDelete
  29. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. L pulled out her last syringe. The only fear she had was of surviving and having to live without her powers. She shot a final look at Six and Nine. This was their last moment together, and none of them could say anything. They didn't want to. L slammed the needle into her arm. Six shouted something, but the drug was already flowing through her system. The rush, the pure energy, the rage. Fire lit up in her eyes.

    The soldiers outside the door fell silent at the screams. Their skin went white as the door began to melt, catching fire around the edges. They had trapped a monster, and death would be their reward.

    ReplyDelete
  30. There was only one thing left to do. I turned to the wall of computers, intimidating in their size and complexity, and took a deep breath. All before, I had been afraid to touch them. Even if he had only not turned the lock- even then I would not do this. But that metal, driven between the walls and the door, was also driven between the two of us. The monitors on top glared down on me. The monitors on the floor glared up at me. I stretched out my hand to touch the activator and it reacted to my fingers. It knew me. Of course. It knew me as the one who had hacked all the other mainframes. I fumbled a moment, then I was free! Files fled before me as the computer tried to hide. I could just unlock the door. I could go free.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. "The computer tried to hide." Interesting! I wonder what that looks like??

      Delete
  31. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. I ripped off my glove and threw a glance over my shoulder at the two girls still huddled against the wall. They peered back at me, pale in the dark. I focused back on the lock and held my bared hand over the mechanism, coaxing the electricity to life within me and sending it down my arm and through my outstretched fingertips. Two threads of silver lightning targeted the lock, unravelling over the metal and short-circuiting the system that held the door locked. The metal bar snapped back and the door swung free. I tugged my glove back on and turned to the girls. “We have to go!” I could feel the floor vibrating under my feet. Any second now the room we were standing in would no longer exist. “Come on!”
    The girls slowly got to their feet and joined me at the door. I stuck my head out into the corridor and saw it was still deserted. I slipped out the door and beckoned the girls to follow. We snuck down the hall, my mind fixed on finding a way to freedom.

    ReplyDelete
  32. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.
    I huddled in the shadows near a suit of armor that decorated the dark hall outside the cell, as I watched Maek, Lord Devin’s evil captain, stride confidently away from the prison. I waited till his echoing footsteps were inaudible before I pulled my cloak’s hood around my head and stepped into the open.
    Silently I moved to the thick metal door. I reached down and pulled my knife from its sheath on my leg.
    I placed the knife between the solid metal door and the doorframe. Another click sounded as the door’s lock retreated.
    “So much for having the best security in the kingdom, Lord Devin. Your prison was just broken into by a girl,” I muttered under my breath.
    The door moaned as I pushed it opened and stepped inside. Dark as it was, I could see the figure of a man leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
    “Took ya long enough, Ray,” he said with teasing in his whispered voice.
    After giving my brother a teasingly dark look, I answered just as quietly, “Come on, Leith. We still gotta find the letters before Lord Devin finds out I’m here.”
    Giving a quick nod, my brother and I crept to the door and peeked out. When we saw no one, nor heard any noise, we slipped out of the room and inched along the hall till we came to another door in the wall. This room was not a cell. It was Lord Devin’s study.
    “You search for it, I’ll stand guard,” Leith instructed. He took a defensive stance in front of the open door when I entered.
    I knew what I was looking for, the papers Lord Devin had been secretly sending and receiving to the unknown person who always signed ‘From Q’. Moving stealthily I searched the desk, though it was difficult to see given the darkness that lingered in the castle.
    Spotting a letter with a symbol on it, a symbol Q. used, I snatched the letters up and stuffed them into my belt. ¥ That symbol was everything. It would decide what happen to the Remnant. It would decide war or retreat. It would decide our future.
    Footsteps echoed in the hall, coming closer. Leith jumped inside the room and took my sword from my scabbard and stood at the ready in the room. “Run.”
    Though I was about to protest, I realized if I did not get these papers back to Gavin, the world, as we knew it, would end. Knowing this might be the last time I saw my brother, I blinked rapidly, banishing the urge to cry and give up. There would be time for tears later, I reprimanded myself. “I love you, Leith,” I whispered.
    With the footsteps almost upon us, I dashed out of the room and ran the opposite way while Leith took a fighting position behind me. The metallic clang of swords echoed down the dark hall. Whispering a prayer, I ran harder than I ever had in my life. Everything depended on these letters.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I love stories with a mission like this: Everything depended on these letters.

      Delete
  33. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. I ran out to the end of the driveway where I was supposed to meet Grant. I had to be very careful not to drop the dozen of eggs that I was carrying. They were crucial to our mission. If luck was on my side, I'd be back in my bed asleep, long before my parents woke up. If not, well, I didn't want to think about what would happen then.
    "What took ya so long, Piper?" Grant whispered. He had parked his car up the block, so that he wouldn't wake my parents up.
    "I'll tell you later. We need to go now or we'll be late!" Grant remembered the urgency of our quest and took my hand. We sprinted to where his old, gray, Saab was waiting. Grant drove fast, shifting gears like an expert. I checked my watch. 1:36 a.m. We only had a few hours. "Watch that moose!" I screamed in Grant's ear. He screeched on the brakes and missed it by inches. My heart finally began beating again and I took a shaky breath. "Drive slower. If we die before we get there, they'll be no point in the mission."
    "Yes, your highness," Grant said with a smirk. I punched him playfully in the arm. Then wasn't the time to be joking around. We had to get to Amanda's house before her brother got up for work.
    The eggs bounced around in my lap as we sped down bumpy back roads. Grant parked down the street from Amanda's house. The stench of broccoli hit me like a truck as soon as I stepped out of the car. Grant made a face at me. We sprinted to Amanda's house. It was even bigger than I remembered. Her parents were rich, of course. They owned the broccoli fields. It was a big, victorian style, white mansion. And boy, was it going to be hard to clean up the mess we were going to make. I grinned at the thought. I looked over at Grant and saw that he was grinning too.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That was my favorite line, too! Plus, the "I screamed in Grant's ear" part following that is hilarious as well. Great mood!

      Delete
  34. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.
    "We have to hide." I brush my bangs out of my face.
    "What?" He turns to look at me. "We can't hide!"
    "Yes, we can! I know a place we can go where we'll be safe. Where they can never find us."
    "Dang it, Amy! Don't you ever get tired or running away?! Of hiding?"
    "We can't stop them, we have to save ourselves-"
    "What about them?" he swoops wildly with his arm "What about everyone out there, all the innocents we leave behind?"
    "Don't you see I'm trying to save us? It's not our responsibility to save them!" I grab onto his thick arm.
    "But it is! If we think we even have a chance to save them, we have to take it!"
    "I can't." My voice small. My fight gone. "You know I can't. Not after...after...what happened."
    "I know." His voice suddenly gentle as if dealing with something fragile- something precious. "But I can't sit back and do nothing. I have to try." He pulls away slowly, heading for the back door. He looks back once his palm is on the rusty handle. "Are you coming with me?"

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Are you? Are you coming with him? Great ending.

      Delete
  35. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  36. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. As I stepped back the man in the tractor looked questioningly at me. I nodded. The huge machine groaned as he pulled a lever and the wardrobe rose higher. Then he turned the tractor and drove it to the edge of the cliff. With one last look to me for confirmation, which I gave him, he tilted the bucket of the tractor until the wardrobe crashed into the sea below. And with it, everything I had once held dear, and everything I had once hoped to achieve.

    ReplyDelete
  37. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. My hands trembled as I turned and fingered the lock on the window. My breath caught as they slipped, slicing across the metal. I sucked in a gasp through the stinging pain and bit my tongue.
    Arden wanted me to stay inside and cook for his guests. But I knew I couldn’t do that.
    Even for my brother.
    I went back to fiddling with the lock, tears blurring my vision like raindrops. The glass swam before me.
    How could you do this to me, Arden? To our family?
    I sniffed and wiped my nose. And now we were the only ones left.
    The lock clicked. I pushed. Nothing happened. I tried again. The window gave way, the panel swinging open and leaving me half dangling in the open air.
    The ground was at least a story away. I didn’t care.
    Catching my balance, I swung a leg over the side, then the other. Slowly, I lowered myself as far as I could, fingers gripping the windowsill. They burned like fire. Then I dropped.
    My legs crumpled beneath my weight as they hit the stone paving, and I cried out.
    I clenched my teeth. It took all my strength to stand. My legs screamed in protest, throbbing in pain.
    A man’s voice called from behind me. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins. I didn’t look back to see who it was.
    I ran.

    ReplyDelete
  38. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. Lillian turned away from the door, abandoning her cousin to isolation.

    "Agent Lillian Gogh, report." Her Commander stood in the hall, awaiting her answer.

    She swallowed her fear. "The fugitive is in custody, due to be interrogated at dawn."

    "Good. It's for the best, to exterminate all threats, all of the inconsistencies that is humankind. All variety must be put to an end in order for the Enlightened Evolvement to take place." He moved closer and put his hand on her shoulder, letting his intimidating presence further his statement.

    "I understand, Sir."

    He looked her in the eyes. "I believe you do. That is why you are of such crucial importance in this stage, you know how we can change the entire course of humanity in one great movement. You need to let go of these chains that hold you back, and you will be complete, which is why you must do this." He analyzed he for a moment more before turning and walking back towards headquarters, leaving her to do her task.

    Lillian stood ramrod straight, the traditional posture of a guard on duty, until darkness fell and the security lights came on, only to flicker and then go out. She quickly took out her key and opened the door.

    "Come to gloat, traitor?" James, standind with his wrists and ankles chained to the wall, still managed to keep his fiery temperament.

    "No. Look, just because I locked you in here doesn't mean I won't help you escape. The, rebels, have it layed out for us."

    James smiled crookedly at her. "Welcome back to the folds, Lily!"



    ReplyDelete
  39. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the door locked into place. There was only one thing left to do. Only one more step.
    Shay took a deep breath, pushing herself up from the cold stone floor. Slowly, arms trembling. Weak-looking, just like she wanted.
    A few seconds later, the young man from the back of the cell had scrambled over and was helping her up.
    She gave him a small smile. "Thanks."
    The man—or, boy, really, sent a glare toward the door. "Why are you locked up?"
    _To earn your trust._ Shay thought.
    She hugged herself, adding a tremble into her voice that she thought very convincing. "I-I resisted the Recruitment."
    His voice softened. "You, too, huh?"
    No, but Shay couldn't tell him that. She nodded, swallowing. "Yeah."
    "I'm Mark." He said, quietly. "What's your name?"
    "Shay." She murmured.
    He let out a long sigh. "Nice to meet you."
    Shay looked up at him.
    This step was coming along nicely.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ooo. Manipulative little heroine. I like it.

      Delete
  40. Dude! You guys are tearing it up! Can't wait to read through these!

    ReplyDelete
  41. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.
    Flicking my eyes around to make sure that no one's watching, Hanna pulls the blade out of her belt. It's an old blade, her favourite one. Rusted and worn with blood, handle soft from overuse. It's stained with the colour of dying roses, of overripe strawberries pulled off their plant. She twists it in her hand, the lump of nostalgia rising in her throat.
    For behind that door is her childhood friend, the one she blew bubbles with, caught butterflies in their sticky, banana mush hands. Now she's about to walk forward, pull a balaclava around her face so it is not her that he sees as the light leaves his eyes and he drops on the floor. She paces slowly, afraid, afraid. She doesn't want to kill him.
    Slowly, slowly, she leans against his chair. Memories are flashing before her eyes, the kind that she wants to scratch out. Just do it, she tells herself. Just get it over and done with, and move on to the next one.
    The blade shines in the light as she punctures his lily white skin, and she walks away afterwards, trying not to show the tears running down her face.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Whoops... Sorry I meant flicking her eyes, not flicking my eyes. My mistake!

      Delete
  42. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. My heart beats like a drum and it seems to be the only noise in the cold stone corridor.
    The Choosing has begun. Not that there's any choosing involved for me.
    I go to the silver door down the long, long hallway. It swings open seemingly of it's own accord.
    Inside is a gilt ink quill on a wooden table. Dreading what might appear on the pristine white sheet of paper, I lift the pen out of the ink bottle and place it on the page. All the sudden, it burns white hot, and I fling my hand away from it.
    It stays perfectly balanced on it's razor sharp tip. Maybe I did something wrong. Maybe I was supposed to keep my hand on it, though I'm not sure how they expected us to do that with the heat level. Maybe-
    The quill turns the color of molten lead. Surprised, I stumble back. Then it begins dancing along the paper. I warily move closer to glimpse what it is writing. The flowing letters seem to be written in liquid silver.
    'Caden, son of Sulon (a lowly fisherman) was born next to the ocean on a stretch of white sand...'
    My mouth drops open in surprise. The quill is writing a synopsis of my life.
    It keeps writing until it is at the bottom of the page, until now. Then it rises from the page and turns a bright, blinding white and touches down again. In pure gold this time, it has written:
    'Caden is henceforth a Thunder Mage.'
    A Thunder Mage.
    Me.
    How did I, son of a lowly fisherman, get to be what not even nobles are, but desperately want to be?
    I turn and put my hand on the handle of the door, feeling stunned.
    The handle doesn't move. Not an inch.
    The walls fall outward and the ceiling gets lifted up, up, up.
    Something huge is standing out there, the outline blurred in the lashing rain. I hold out my hands, trying to reach the thunder inside of me but not knowing how.
    Then I realize what the shape is.
    A giant. Hulos.
    He's come.
    Something has gone horribly wrong.

    ReplyDelete
  43. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  44. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  45. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. My heart beats like a drum and it seems to be the only noise in the cold stone corridor.
    The Choosing has begun. Not that there's any choosing involved for me.
    I go to the silver door down the long, long hallway. It swings open seemingly of it's own accord.
    Inside is a gilt ink quill on a wooden table. Dreading what might appear on the pristine white sheet of paper, I lift the pen out of the ink bottle and place it on the page. All the sudden, it burns white hot, and I fling my hand away from it.
    It stays perfectly balanced on it's razor sharp tip. Maybe I did something wrong. Maybe I was supposed to keep my hand on it, though I'm not sure how they expected us to do that with the heat level. Maybe-
    The quill turns the color of molten lead. Surprised, I stumble back. Then it begins dancing along the paper. I warily move closer to glimpse what it is writing. The flowing letters seem to be written in liquid silver.
    'Caden, son of Sulon (a lowly fisherman) was born next to the ocean on a stretch of white sand...'
    My mouth drops open in surprise. The quill is writing a synopsis of my life.
    It keeps writing until it is at the bottom of the page, until now. Then it rises from the page and turns a bright, blinding white and touches down again. In pure gold this time, it has written:
    'Caden is henceforth a Thunder Mage.'
    A Thunder Mage.
    Me.
    How did I, son of a lowly fisherman, get to be what not even nobles are, but desperately want to be?
    I turn and put my hand on the handle of the door, feeling stunned.
    The handle doesn't move. Not an inch.
    The walls fall outward and the ceiling gets lifted up, up, up.
    Something huge is standing out there, the outline blurred in the lashing rain. I hold out my hands, trying to reach the thunder inside of me but not knowing how.
    Then I realize what the shape is.
    A giant. Hulos.
    He's come.
    Something has gone horribly wrong.


    By Mila

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sorry it's repeated, I forgot to put my name but I am same author as other comment that has same story.

      Delete
    2. Very unique! I like it a lot. Somehow reminds me of Inkheart.

      Delete
    3. Thanks! I like that book!

      Delete
  46. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.

    Panic my ever-loving guts out.

    So that's what I did. I don't know what I hoped to accomplish by screaming non-stop -the walls and door were solid metal. It's a wonder that I didn't go deaf, but hey! Life gives only so many good cards, might as well take 'em!

    Anyways, after sceaming myself hoarse and out of breath, I decided that I might as well start using the muscle inside my skull. At least I think it's a muscle and not some spare tissue or something. I mean, even if I don't exercise my brain that much, it kinda helps your self-esteem to know that the gooey glob up there is a muscle and not some crazy afterthought of unimportant mass. Heh, this exercising of my brain is making me use big words! Cool!

    ...Where was I, again? Ah yes, in the metal room of doom. Otherwise known as my garage. Hooray, for me. Locking myself in my own garage, in the middle summer, when every other person in the family is relaxing on the patio grilling burgers.

    I want a burger. I haven't eaten since breakfast, and that was hours, litteral hours, ago! I'm starving! I gotta get out of here before I dehydrate!
    Hey, I just thought another big word! See, just thinking about nourishing -hah,another big word- food helps me think! Are bugers considered brain-food?

    I should probably start to use my brain more often. If I did, I might know if burgers are brain-food.

    But first, I have to get outta here!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hilarious. And I'm sure burgers are brain food!

      Delete
  47. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.

    And, judging by the swearing going on behind me, Micah really didn’t like the idea of having to do it. “Really, parish boy? I thought nuns taught you not to swear in church.”

    “Fine.” He turned to look at all the basement windows one one more time, but the grime gluing them shut hadn’t spontaneously combusted in the last five minutes. “Sugar. But I don’t think them lot out there are gonna care what I’m saying when my head’s on a spike.”

    I upended the one bag I managed to hide up my trouser leg before they shoved us in here. “If you don’t stop whining and help me with this, I’m going to be the one to spike yo-.”


    A flash of silver against my throat cut the sentence short. “Oh really? That would be a nice trick for a dead traitor.”

    Micah smirked at me, the knife perfectly steady in his hand, and all I could think was not again.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Fun. I like the banter here. And yes, no swearing in church.

      Delete
  48. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do.
    "Durid! I know you're in there. You've got five seconds to come out, before I blow the door down."
    "Five!"
    "Four!"
    Still no movement from inside. I had a feeling he wasn't going to listen to me.
    "Three!"
    "Two!"
    Nope. Good old Durid was going to do the stupid thing, as usual.
    "One!"
    "Zero! I'm coming in!"
    With a deep breath I gathered my magic, feeling the blood pulsing through my veins, my heart thumping with all its worth, my lungs expanding and contracting like bellows. I put out my hand to touch the wood, knowing what would happen, waiting to feel the delicious sensation of wood exploding under my fingertips, of the metal of the lock melting into a little puddle on the floor, of splinters flying everywhere. They would strike blood from me but I wouldn't care.
    My fingers touched the wood. Nothing happened. Damn him to hell! Durid had actually invested in a damper! I opened my mouth and screamed my impotent rage to the skies.

    ReplyDelete
  49. The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do. If only Shadow knew what that one thing might be. . .
    To catch a wizard, you must first catch his cat. Well, they've captured the cat, to Shadow's annoyance, but they haven't captured William—at least not yet.
    Shadow would have known if they had.
    The blue cat's gold eyes danced from one corner of his cell to the other. *As empty as a mouse's skull*, he thought with more joy than he currently felt. *Well, that's not technically correct, since I'm here, but . . .* Shadow's mind turned back to the present when a startling sound captured his interest.
    *Are my ears deceiving me, or is that a fellow cat yowling?* Shadow flicked his tail; the sound had been grating, to say the least. Not at all as charming as Shadow's delicate mews. Still, there was something familiar about that cat's voice . . . however, Shadow could not place it. *Well, I'm sick of waiting on William to come rescue me. It's already been a few minutes. Time to do something myself.* He moved to the center of the minuscule room and prayed he could remember the spell. *I swear I'll lay off women and catnip both, if this all goes well.* Shadow closed his eyes, steadied his breathing, and focused intently on the spell. A massive wind swept through a moment later, coloring the walls softly with green light. The force was like a whirlwind, batting the cat from all sides. *None of it is real*, he reminded himself, *I just need to let it run its course and I'll be fine . . . I hope.* At last the wind subsided, and Shadow fell to the floor. He kept his eyes closed, both from pain and the gnawing fear of failure. He was also tired. So very tired.
    *Maybe I'll wait for William after all. . .* And the cat fell asleep, no more than twenty feet from where his master stood, in a feline form of his own.


    Had a lot of fun with this one. Thanks for the prompt.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Super clever! "To catch a wizard you must first catch his cat."

      Delete
  50. (This piece became a bit of a hybrid between a paragraph and flash fiction, but I thought the additional spaces would make it easier to read than a single paragraph. Enjoy!)

    The door rattled shut, metal grinding as the lock snapped into place. There was only one thing left to do: face the beast.

    Tysen peered over the railing into the tiny enclosure below where the trapped slithus tried to thrash around. But the enclosure was too tight, holding the beast in place until the time came for Tysen to leap onto its back.

    In the old days, when Tysen's ancestors were alive, they used to do this with bulls. Then advances in genetic engineering and increases in society's bloodlust created animals like the slithus, throwbacks to the dinosaurs of ancient times.

    Tysen, dangling on the railing above the slithus, one leg on each side of the fence, gathered his courage for the plunge. He loved this moment, loved being fully conscious of the ability to turn back instead of facing the imminent danger. He loved overcoming the fear, even the common sense, and conquering a monster.

    Grinning at the sound of the starting bugle, Tysen released his hold on the fence and leaped down, his thighs closing on the slithus' scaly sides. The gate lifted and Tysen, aboard the enraged slithus, exploded into the arena.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Fabulous character development in this heart thumping scene. Good job.

      Delete

Home