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jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for January
The writing prompts for this month is: Write a story that involves a countdown. Start the story at 10 and end it at 0.

~ Pandora Rose ~
This couldn't be happening. Not to me. I don't even know how I got here! I'm strapped to a chair, my limbs tied at the wrists and ankles, by painfully tight rope. I know my skin is bleeding, I know my face is cut. I know something is burning - I can feel the heat on my feet. None of that matters. In the dark, all I see are the numbers. The red, glowing numbers attached to what I know is a bomb. I am a bomb expert - one of the best. I could take it apart in 3.2 seconds. If I could move. I know there is no point in trying to get free - the restraints are too tight, and my time is ticking away.
My family will never see me again.
They won't even know what happened.
This was such a mistake.
I'll never see her again.
I should have told her I loved her.
I left her crying.
I hope she forgives me.
I hope she finds peace.
I love you.
The end.

This is all my fault if i hadn't kept bugging him.he woudn't have done this
it's all i wished would not happen
i hope Travis will find another girlfriend
Why did this have to happen at the dance
I hope Kelsey finds someone to comfort her
I'm an idiot.
I miss everyone
Look at the positive you will not have to go to school
Yeah but i never get married
i love you Travis

Rebel Rider
I looked out the thick windows, at the fake palm trees blowing in the light breeze.
I wrapped my arm around my daughter.
"We're going to a place with real trees," I said.
The engines rumbled.
Dust filled my view.
I double-checked our seat belts.
The ship shook violently.
It would lift off any second.
I'd never see Earth again.
Good riddance.

Okay, so my countdown sort of went askew. I started out with good intentions but it (as most things do in my head) went a totally different direction.
So...having said this, here is mine. As I didn't follow the rules, this doesn't count. But it felt like a fun little story and it is totally unedited, no rewrites, just a quick type+post. I don't even have a title!
Grimly, Lin rode his white stallion up the narrow, rocky path ahead of the TEN heavily armed and battle weary men and women that followed closely behind. When they had left the desert plains just NINE days ago they were a small army of several hundred well trained warriors.
He shuddered at the memory of the first few nights and the haunting screams of the dying as their numbers were picked off one by one in the darkness. By morning light there was little left of the campsite but the tattered remains of tents and a few gleaming white bones stripped of flesh. As young as he was, Lin had seen horror before but nothing like this. This wasn’t just magic; this…this was an abomination.
His tired stallion stumbled slightly on the loose gravel and he removed his glove and placed his hand gently against the sweating neck. Lin felt his skin prickle as power surged from his fingertips into the horse with a healing spell. Rejuvenated, the horse sprang forward with renewed effort. Satisfied, Lin leaned back into the saddle and covered his freshly singed and blistered fingers with his glove.
He had been considered by many to be the most powerful sorcerer alive despite the fact that he had not yet finished his EIGHTH year of training. His brow furrowed at the thought of the learning he would never complete. Something had changed in the SEVEN Kingdoms that had changed the magic for everyone. From the highest practitioner to the lowest trickster, magic had suddenly become painful, if not deadly to use. Small incantations caused burns, usually to the hands, but larger ones were devastating, often completely obliterating the spell caster in an intense heat that melted everything around them for SIX paces.
Then there were the shadows. Black and shapeless, they appeared at night out of nowhere, claiming their victims without mercy. Humans, animals, even trees and brush were affected, leaving behind nothing but the scorched ground. It was as if the fabric of magic in the world was sick and blackness was leaching out of the festering wounds. Perhaps that was why Lin had chosen to lead this quest to the Center. Every sorcerer had his specialty, and for him it was healing. He had to know what was causing it, and If it were at all possible, discover how to repair it.
Lin’s horse snorted as they broke through the treeline and out into the open. Nestled in the valley surrounded by the FIVE mountains of magic was the once majestic Castle of the Center. He felt his stomach tighten uncomfortably as he studied the scene. FOUR of the spires still stood with their tattered flags hanging limply on poles, but the fifth spire and an entire wall of the octagon shaped fortress lay in ruins, broken open and scattered like a childs plaything beneath the trampling of feet.
A middle aged man named Tyler rode his horse up beside him and let out a low whistle. “Which one fell?”
Lin traced the lines down from each mountain. A thin line of stone stretched unbroken from the peak of one mountain to the castle. That one was Earth. The second mountain had a wide path clear of any rocks or trees leading down, that was Wind. The third he knew was fire and a stream of glowing lava flowed steadily down a channel to the castle. Water fell from high above them on the forth mountain into a pool that fed through a gate beneath the forth spire.
He grimaced. “Spirit has fallen.”
He could almost hear the man beside him groan. Even a layman knew that of all of the elements of magic, spirit was the most powerful, and the hardest to control. The Center acted as a collector, gathering equal parts of all five elements and maintaining their balance. With one side of the Center in ruins, everything was out of focus, the fabric of magic was being stretched to the breaking point.
“We don’t have much time.” He snapped the reins and the stallion bolted down the hill towards the gate.
Lin felt his heart sink as he dismounted at the entrance. The massive oak doors were blasted off their iron hinges and bits of charred splinters littered the ground.
Tyler tapped his sword pummel and eyed the doorway suspiciously, but Lin held up his hand to stop him. “The door was blown outwards. This was not an attack, it was an explosion from within.”
Tyler nodded but his hand never left his sword. “What would you have us do next sir?”
“Nothing yet.” Lin stepped into the darkened entrance. “Not until I know what damage is done inside.”
Tyler cleared his throat. “Wait! You should not go alone…in case you meet shadows! Take THREE of my men with you.”
Lin sighed. If he met any shadows it wouldn’t matter how many were with him. But he may have some use for them. “Alright, but we must be quick!”
They moved down the hallways at almost a run. Lin noticed everywhere he looked the rooms were completely scrubbed bare of the furniture and tapestries that resided there for centuries. The shadows must have been more concentrated in this area than any other and devoured everything but the stones. Suddenly he was glad to have the company of the three men.
Gasping for breath, they burst in the main room and skidded to a halt. Four of the walls still stood while the fifth was completely missing but for a few scattered stones. In the center of the room, carved into the floor were channels bringing in the elements of earth, wind, fire and water. The elements emptied into a pool where a large crystal the size of Lin’s head floated in the middle.
Lin stared at the fifth, empty channel, the broken wall, and finally at the crystal. He leaned as close as he dared to the multi-faceted surface and studied it. Deep inside he could see the one thing he hoped would not be there. A streak of blackness embedded in a flaw, a shadow. With a sickening feeling he suddenly knew he couldn’t fix it.
It was the spirit itself that did all the damage. It was the flaw that ravaged the land. And it was only going to get worse.
He looked at the men waiting for him and sighed. “Get out of here, all of you. Get on your horses and ride as fast as you can, as far as you can away from here and never, ever come back. Is that clear?”
The faces of the men paled as they nodded and rushed down the hallway. He watched them from the tiny window as they rode away and disappeared into the treeline. He waited TWO more minutes to make sure they were far enough away, and then he began.
It was a spell of his own creation. One never before incanted, or will ever be again. It began by encompassing all magic, every thread in the fabric. He peeled back the layers of the universe then stripped the power from elements and laid them bare. He molded them together into a substance that has not existed since time began.
He could feel his flesh being rendered, the power ripping at his soul. He took ONE last look around before casting the spell. He could hardly imagine what it will be like living in this world when he finishes, but at least there will be a world to live in. Alas, he won’t be here to know. With a wry smile he closed his eyes and spoke the words that destroyed all magic, forever.
posted 1 year ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

message 2: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for February
Prompt: The writing prompt for the month is: "So much for date night..." or give this a story
Rebel Rider
Kael froze, his gaze focused on two men headed toward a dark alley. "They're after a girl," he said, his voice low.
I glanced at our surroundings. No other people were within screaming range. "Should we call Razor?" A year ago, I'd have called the cops, but now, I knew better than that.
"Whatever's going down will be over by then." Kael strode across the street, toward the alley. The men vanished into the darkness. Kael's mind reading never failed. If he thought these men were up to no good, they were. So much for our date night.
I cast my Power out. The only animals were rodents and one stray cat. Those wouldn't be much for reinforcements if I called on them.
Someone screamed. I ran past Kael. He grabbed my arm. "Something's weird."
"What?" I whispered.
"My mind reading. I can't sense the girl, and the guys are terrified."
A crunching sound emanated from the alleyway. I crept forward. My animal telepathy ran into a presence I hadn't detected before.
"One guy's dead," Kael said. One of the two men shot from the alleyway like something from the depths of Hell chased him.
Kael grabbed my arm. "Don't go in there."
I cast my senses toward the animal, trying to get an idea of what it saw. It resisted my touch. I pushed, trying to worm my way into its mind. No other animal had resisted me this hard.
Get out! a voice shouted in my head, obviously from the thing.
I pulled away from the creature, or maybe person. I had to know what it was. I couldn't connect with humans, only animals, and animals didn't talk. I crept toward the alley.
Kael rolled his eyes and followed me.
I peered around the corner.
A gigantic wolf stood over the body of a man. Her gaze landed on us.
I avoided eye contact, like I did with most dangerous animals. "We don't mean any harm," I said.
The werewolf, or whatever she was, watched me. They were after me.
"We know. We're like you," I told her.
I not werewolf Kael said to me, his telepathy getting the message across but not using proper grammar. "What she means is we have Powers too," Kael said.
I'm not alone? The werewolf wagged her tail.

Kaitie Marie
"So much for date night..." she mumbled as she pushed her back off of her apartment door, ready to collapse on her bed and just pass out, hoping to forget the events of the night.
The restaurant full of people dining and talking with their loved ones as she sat there waiting. Waiting for her date to arrive, feeling lonely and anxious the longer she sat there. She could feel the short, piteous glances the other patrons were giving her, knowing full well he would never show up. But she was hopeful, he probably just forgot, he's been working a lot, for the first hour. She gave up waiting and ordered her meal, not wanting to sit there any longer, looking at her phone hoping for his response.
She ate her meal in silence, slowly, a small thread of hope that he would come through the door at any moment, apologizing for being so late.
Two hours of being there and she had finished her meal. The two of them would have already been at the theatre, waiting to go in, if he had showed.
She paid and made her way out, not making eye contact with anyone, then started on her way to her apartment, wanting the night to be over.
Stood up. She was stood up by the one man in her life. The one that had been there for the past several years. The one she was hoping to marry one day. He had to have a good excuse.
She slowed down as she passed the theatre, people exiting from the previous show. She stopped and stood there, watching as the people came out, smile on their faces. She started smiling but quickly stopped as she heard the all too familiar voice from inside the small crowd of people.
Her heart froze.
There he was, smiling and talking to another woman who was on his arm.
She couldn't move.
Their eyes met, his smile dropped from his face, and in that second of his realization, her heart felt as though it had shattered into billions of pieces.
How could he do this to her? How could he betray her like this? But now it all became clear as to why he didn't want to move in with her and why he had been picking up more hours at the office.
He went to step towards her but stopped as her hand went up and she started walking home faster than she ever had before. She didn't want the confrontation, not there, not with that crowd of people there who would end up watching a drama unfold before their eyes.
She slowed as she reached the complex.
Taking the stairs up to her floor.
Stepping inside and closing the door behind her by leaning her back on it.
"So much for date night..."
posted 12 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

message 3: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for March
March already! Can you believe it?
So here is how it goes, I will give a writing prompt of the month. It can be a single word, a phrase, or even a picture. Then you, the writer, will proceed to write whatever comes to your head. It can be one sentence, a poem, a short story, a paragraph, whatever you want! Just have fun and be creative!
The writing prompt for the month of March is to go to your nearest book and turn to page 51. Find the first line of the last paragraph on the page and use it to start your scene.
missymayj*Queen of the Cats*
"rock on!"i thogth who ever is saying this must be can i rock on when i've had a lot of bad things happen.this person is to postive.way too postive.well i'm queen so i'm going to excute him or her."behead who ever said rock on or get beheaded yourself." "yes my queen."

Most Honorable One
Lol, I love that people are going to get beheaded! xD

missymayj*Queen of the Cats*
thanks.i was in a mood where i wanted the queen to behead people so i just went with it.
When Shirley showed me how to cast on, she was teaching me to solve some knitting problems before they grow. Just knitting, I thought, how boring. But knit I must, and so knit I did, carelessly at first, with little heed to the consequences until Shirley took me to the window and showed me. Each stitch I cast on, each stitch I knit, knit the fabric of the lives of the people in a nearby village. Mistakes could be small ones, resulting in child's skinned knee or a pimple on a chin. But mistakes left uncorrected could grow, and consequences were sometimes dire. If I didn't start taking heed, that village would end up destroyed and it would be all my fault.

Most Honorable One
Eeep! It sounds like this could really get intense! =D

Karin (edited)
Thanks :). I had to think fast because the closest book at hand was a nonfiction book about knitting.
The POMR progress notes contain the findings (subjective and objective data), assessment, plans, and orders of the doctors, nurses, and other practitioners involved in the care of this patient.

Most Honorable One
You could totally make a really cool scene based off of that sentence or something really comical. =)
posted 11 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

message 4: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for April
The writing prompt for the month of April is: He got the text he'd been dreading. "Now," it said. and/or "Guess who came back?"
He got the text he'd been dreading. "Now," it said.
He stood, groaning, grabbed his bag and fled. No time to waste, he pounded his feet on the pavement, making sure to increase the distance from them and his home as fast as he possibly could. Gradually he managed to get the pack strapped to his back, synchronizing his movements in time with his feet so he wouldn't lose his grip or his balance.
A coat or jacket would have been good, although he was beginning to generate a bit of heat from the exertion, but no doubt he'd feel the cold bitterly later. He rounded the corners neatly, his years of training over this route paying off in spades. His breathing was steady despite his pounding heart he got from reading the message.
It took the full twenty minutes he knew it would, but as suddenly as it began, his egress was done. Just before rounding his last corner he slowed his pace until he was walking and then ambling along as though he hadn't a care in the world.
He saw it as soon as he rounded that last corner, of course, and it looked just as it always had in his training runs. But now it was the real deal. He plucked up his courage and opened the doors, walked to room D309, went in, sat down just as the bell rang.
"Welcome to Nunavit High School. I'm Mr. Sullivan and I'll be your homeroom teacher during your grade nine year."

Most Honorable One
Yay! I'm glad that I got to see a bit of your writing! I love your use of details! =)

Thanks. Humour was all I could think of (well, very, very soft humour) at the time. I did one for last month, too.
Rebel Rider
I'm changing it to first person and a female. That's what wanted to happen.
I got the text I'd been dreading. It read "Guess who came back?"
I shivered. It had to be Razor.
Another text came in, this one with a smily face. Of course, Kael was happy Razor was back, but he'd never been kidnapped and held hostage by Razor.
"Why is he back?" I texted.
"Mission accomplished," Kael texted. "Come to the meeting place."
I sighed. Of course, Kael seemed to think the more I hung around Razor, the quicker I'd get comfortable with being around him. I typed in a text to Theo. "You-know-who is back. K wants me to meet with him. Can I snag a ride?" Having Theo by my side would help, but then again, he'd been there when Razor grabbed me. He'd never stand a chance against Razor. Neva was the only one who could match him, and she'd side with him.
I needed to relax. Razor and I were on the same side. He wouldn't hurt me now, well, unless he decided I needed training, then I'd get beat to a pulp.

Now I want to know what happens next...
He got the text he'd been dreading. "Now," it said.
After being crouched for so long, Arylide was glad to be able to move at last. He had been a little bit scared, being only nine years old, but he didn't want to admit it to anyone. Arylide and many others had been hiding in the confining dark for what felt like hours, tense and awaiting what would come next. At every creak and groan of the old decrepit house, Arylide could feel at least one person fidget. He didn't know how many of them there were with him, but he knew there were enough.
Before receiving the text, a tall, dark figure had made its way into the room they were all hiding in. Arylide knit his eyebrows into a worried furrow, dreading what this figure was going to do. He didn't want anything to be ruined, especially since this had never happened to him before. The edge of the couch Arylide was behind was pricking his leg, but he didn't dare to move, not with the figure creeping about. He heard a sharp intake of breath at the moment he saw the figure walk into something. "It must of walked into something someone was hiding behind," thought Arylide. He hoped that person who risked the breath wouldn't get caught. He didn't want anyone to be found, not yet.
When his phone pinged, he muttered a small "fudge" under his breath, for his mother would have washed his mouth out with soap if he said anything else, with him being only nine years of age. He risked a quick glance down at the phone screen and saw what it read, "NOW." Arylide gave the signal; six small taps to the loose floorboard, and then a scratch of his nails on the fabric of the couch. This triggered a chain of events that quickly followed:
He saw the dark figure race to the door.
He saw a blinding brightness as someone turned on the lights that were as bright as sunlight on fresh snow.
He heard a quick shuffle of many people, all at once.
He heard himself, along with many others shout the same phrase, all in unison at the figure that had crept in earlier:

I always mean to do these prompts and then I always forget to post one before the month is over.... Nothing like remembering it on the last day of the month :P
posted 10 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

message 5: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for May
Put this bit of dialogue somewhere in your story:
"Seven billion people in the world, and you're overreacting because we killed one man."
"Seven. Billion. People. Now quit your complaining and drink your smoothie."
He suddenly realized his survival depended on...
Rebel Rider
He suddenly realized his survival depended on a coffee cup. Of all things, a coffee cup.
Fire looked up from the cup of steaming coffee his captor had pushed toward him.
His captor sat across the table from him. "Drink."
Fire wrapped his free hand around the coffee cup. He pressed his thumb into the hot coffee.
His captor squinted, confused.
Fire pushed with this powers. The coffee burst into a boil. Fire slung the cup into his captors face.
The man reeled back and screamed, trying to get the super-heated liquid off.
Fire grabbed the handcuff chain restraining him to the table. It took almost ten seconds to melt through the chain, but he got it done right as the interrogation door to the room burst opened.
Fire's hands glowed white-hot. He charged his enemies, clawing at them. Every time he touched one, their clothes burst into fire.
A rifle cracked. Fire stumbled and stared at his belly. "Crap." He heated his whole body, until his clothes burst into flame. His senses screamed at him. He was heating up beyond what his body could handle. It didn't matter, not now.
The room burst into flame.
Fire sank to the floor with the charred remains of his enemies.
Most Honorable One: Eeee hehehe! I love that you did something that was different from your werewolf stories. I mean I really like them, but this was really neat because of how creative and different it is from what you normally write. =)

Captain Korina: What Rache said!
Rebel Rider: Thanks. It's my other to-go story for writing prompts.
"Seven billion people in the world, and you're overreacting because we killed one man."
"Seven. Billion. People. Now quit your complaining and drink your smoothie."
Julie sighed, took a long sip on the red straw and winced from the almost instant ice-cream headache in produced. Sure, maybe Jack was right, it was only one man and he certainly deserved to die. Still, she couldn’t shake the image of his eyes staring up at her in disbelief as his atoms were scattered.
She twirled the straw between her thumb and forefinger and looked across the table at her partner. He was a big man, and considerably older than her. Fifteen, maybe twenty years? It was hard to tell, this job aged you quickly. She was already noticing lines on her own face when she looked in the mirror.
“Jack? Do you ever get tired of doing this? Ever think of doing something else?”
He made a slurping sound as he finished off his smoothie and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nah. I’m too old to start something new. Besides, there is a certain satisfaction in this job. Ya know, upholding the law and stuff.”
Julie leaned back and sank into the chair. “I dunno. I’m just not sure I’m cut out for this. I mean, putting people down just because…”
“Because they broke the law!” Jack interrupted. “Look, we don’t make the laws, we just enforce them. Without order, without us…this whole city would be corrupt! Nobody likes being vaporized I’m sure, but they are the ones who crossed the line. It wouldn’t have happened to them if they’d kept their nose clean and followed the rules.”
Julie nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right. But I’m still not sure I’m right for this job.”
Jacks face broke into a toothy grin. “Listen, someday you’ll have to face an offender on your own and you’re going to have to point that disrupter gun of yours at them and pull the trigger. When that day comes you’ll know you are doing the right thing. The right thing.”
He dug a couple credits out of his pocket and tossed them on the table. “Lets go, we still have half a shift to finish.”
Jack whistled as they walked back to the hovercar, but Julie walked a step behind lost in thought. It wasn’t until they reached the parking spot when Jacks whistle abruptly stopped. Julie looked up his face had gone pale.
“What is is Jack? What’s wrong?”
Jacks eyes flickered toward the parking meter. The time had run out and a red flag flashed above it with the word VOID written in black letters.
Julies eyebrows raised. “You didn’t put enough credits in the meter for your hover??”
Jack stammered. “I…I thought I put in enough but we took longer than I figured! Let’s just go before someone sees it!”
Julie shook her head as she raised her disrupter and pointed it at his chest. “I’m sorry Jack. You know the rules. I guess you were right after all, I would do the right thing.”
He stared at her in disbelief as she pulled the trigger and his body evaporated, leaving behind nothing but the smell of ozone. She holstered her gun and reached through the hovercar window and flipped on the two way com. A screen popped up and a young man stared back at her with a bored expression on his face.
“This is meter-maid Julia, badge number 443. I need acquisition of this hovercar for duty.”
There was a slight pause before the young mans voice cackled across the com. “That hover is assigned to badge number 132, Jack…”
She interrupted “Jack has been removed from service per protocol for parking violation 227.”
“Oh, I see. Well in that case, registration has been transferred to you 443. Thank you and have a nice day.”

Alissa: oh...

fulgid: Yeah, it was a little dark for me but I just ran with it. I guess you don't want to mess with the meter-maids in that world? LOL

Most Honorable One: Ahhhh! That was nuts! I love it though! x) I totally wasn't expecting Julie to kill Jack!
Captain Korina: Love this! Dark and funny. Well done :)
Rebel Rider: Rather creepy.
posted 9 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

message 6: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for June
Use this dialogue somewhere in your story
"So, as it turns out, toilet paper is NOT the best nor most effective way to clean up blood."
Write a scene using ONLY dialogue

Most Honorable One
Breathing hard her fingers fumbled around for whatever Damien had thrown in the pack. Holding her two fingers to the puncture wounds in the man's neck, Lillian let out a curse. The blood was pumping out of his neck faster than she could block it. Warm blood oozed over her fingers as she fished out a roll of toilet paper. Toilet paper? Oh he can't be serious! Lillian quickly unrolled the toilet paper and pressed it against the man's neck. Useless! The damn wad was bleeding through faster than she could blink! She pressed the roll to his neck, rotating it like a kebob. "Stupid filthy vampire! It just had to eat!" She seethed as she tossed the soaked roll across the room. Lillian fished into her pack once more and pulled out a roll of duct tape. Pulling a few pieces free, she carefully bandaged the man’s slimy neck. Her face scrunched up in disgust at the bloody sight. She put two fingers to the other side of his neck and sighed in relief. His heart was still beating. Lillian picked up her pack and skipped over the man’s body. So long as the holes were covered, they would heal quickly. Not to mention that Damien more than likely phoned back-up already. They’d take care of the blood as well as the man’s memory.
Lillian pressed a button in her watch and spoke into it, “Damien do you copy? Are you there?”
“No, I’m here,” he said as he walked into the room. “The vampire’s taken care of.” Damien nudged the man’s hand with his boot as he surveyed the bloody sight. He let out a low whistle. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were the one that killed the vampire. You’re a bloody mess. And is that duct tape on his neck?” He asked, moving to touch it.
“Don’t pick at it you oaf!” Lillian swatted Damien’s hand away from the man’s neck and gave him a stern look.
Damien laughed, “You’re such a rookie. Four days into the job and you use duct tape?”
"Well, as it turns out, toilet paper is NOT the best nor most effective way to clean up blood. So thanks very little Mr. Four Years into the job! And thanks to your brilliant knowledge about first aid, duct tape was the only useful thing in this stupid bag!”
Damien frowned at her, “Hey my bag isn’t stupid, it’s-“
Lillian’s watch beeped before Damien could say anything more. Good. She was tired of his excuses. For four days she had been paired with him to hunt vampires and each day had been disastrous in one way or another. Damien was said to be one of the best vampire hunters within the Unit. But with his carelessness and arrogance, she had a hard time believing that he took this job seriously at all. She clicked the button on her watch, glaring at Damien’s arrogant face as Unit Control’s message bleeped through. “Attention Unit 2, back up has reached your known location. Return to headquarters.”
Lillian sighed in relief. Took them long enough.

Hahaha! Great use of the phrase, Rache!
Captain Korina
Nice! :D
Lol...nice job!
Most Honorable One
Hehe! =D I'm glad you guys liked it. I thought the phrase was easier to do than a whole bunch of dialogue. =P

Rebel Rider
We were walking home together when Jada spoke up at random, like she normally did.
"So, as it turns out, toilet paper is NOT the best nor most effective way to clean up blood." She flipped her indigo hair over her shoulder. Last week, it had been pink.
"Why were you using toilet paper?" I asked. She always had crazy stories, but her cleaning up blood was a new one.
Jada stiffened, like she'd just said more than she was supposed to, then she smiled and flipped her hair. "Dad stabbed himself in the arm when we were out. He didn't want to go to the doctor so we used a restroom. He can be sooo stubborn."
Right. Stabbed himself in the arm. She was hiding something, as usual. I had no doubt her dad got stabbed, but stabbed himself? I'd heard about how skilled he was. I needed to change the subject. "So, are you still watching that show about the investigators?" I tried flipping my hair like Jada did. It fell into my eyes.
Jada shrugged. "I got behind. It gets the arms trade all wrong, you know. No research."
"What did it get wrong, exactly?" Jada knew a little too much about the illegal arms trade, a lot more than the average high school girl, or even troubled guy, knew.
"It claimed they smuggled weapons in from oversees. Everyone knows that arms traders are buying the things through our own military." Jada messed with her expensive earrings.
Right. Everyone knew. Like maybe everyone who had a dad involved in the arms trade, that was.
posted 8 months ago. ( edit | reply | permalink | delete )

message 7: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt for July
Put this somewhere in your story:
"I thought I'd made it clear we have a no abduction policy."
"She(or he) wasn't cooperating. What did you expect me to do?"
Rebel Rider
Razor stepped into the warehouse, a girl slung over his shoulder.
Kael groaned.
"I thought I'd made it clear we have no abduction policy," Flurry snapped at Razor.
"She wasn't cooperating. What did you expect me to do?" Razor demanded.
Kael folded his arms across his chest. "Talk to her."
Razor pulled the trembling girl off his shoulders. "Then you talk to her."
Kael hurried to the girl and untied her. "Sorry. He's bad with words."
The girl sprang to her feet and stared at Kael, her eyes wide. "Where am I?" Somehow, she kept her thoughts hidden from him, but the fear in her voice betrayed her.
Kael reached out to touch her shoulder.
The girl flinched away.
Kael let his hand drop. "You're safe here. The Guardians won't find you."
"The Guardians protect us from freaks!" the girl shouted.
"Ouch," Flurry said.
"We're not freaks," Kael tried to explain. "We've got Powers, just like you."
"I don't have powers," the girl said.
Kael felt truth in her words. His stomach froze. "Razor, you got the wrong girl."
posted 7 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Most Honorable One
Most Honorable One
Writing Prompt for August

"...but if anyone asks, tell them we're fine..."
Write a scene using only dialogue. Start with, "What do I do? He's been there all day."
"What do I do? He's been there all day."
"I have no idea. Travis, he's just this random, half naked guy that I found sleeping on the doorstep."
"Who's at home with you?"
"No one, I'm here alone."
"How long did you say he's been there?"
"A few hours. Since I woke up."
"And you only phoned me now? Amber! What's wrong with you?"
"I am already in the car, I'll be there in five minutes. Stay on the phone!"
"I don't think he's dangerous. He's passed out."
"I don't care. Stay. On. The. Phone."
"Ok, I promise"
"What does he look like"
"I am not too sure, should I go outside and look?"
"No! Try look out the window"
"He's old, he's really dirty, all he's wearing is a hat."
"Ok. I'm almost there. He sounds weird"
"Oh! Travis you're here"
"Yeah, but Amber, that's my dad."
Rebel Rider: Oh, talk about a shocker.
Stella T: Haha, I wrote this when I was bored in class :P
Most Honorable One: LOL, I love this! x) It's a fun read! =)
posted 6 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Most Honorable One
Most Honorable One
Writing Prompt for September

It was such a peaceful time, and yet I felt compelled to ruin it
"All of those people are alive right now- because of her."
~ Fluttering Rose ~
All was going well
All was going right
I'd fixed things I broke
Healed the hurts I caused
All was going well
The trademark of my life
The one thing that never changes
Is the need to ruin
what is perfect and calm
All was going well
Until I realized that day
That all was going well
Then it all went to hell
It was such a peaceful time
Yet I felt compelled to ruin it
All is going up in flames

*Written in honor of a family member who's having a difficult time at the moment. Prayers for him.*
posted 5 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

message 8: by jen (new)

jen (hallowwanderer) | 371 comments Writing Prompt For October
The writing prompt for the month is:
I hit play and watched myself in the recording. But what I saw isn't what I remember.
Have fun! :)
Rebel Rider
I hit play and watched myself in the recording. But what I saw isn't what I remember.
"I know you didn't do it," Sandy says. "If you say you didn't kill those people, you didn't."
I star at myself gunning down anyone in sight. That isn't me, but it is. I hadn't done that, but the video shows me doing it. How? I let the video play farther, until it shows the reporter. "The shooter is armed and dangerous. If you have any information on him, please call the FBI."
Sandy shakes my shoulder. "You need to run, now."
"I didn't do it," I say.
"I know, but the rest of the world won't believe you." She hands me a backpack. "I'll come with you. We can cross the border and hide. You know Spanish, right?"
I stood. I never wanted to hurt anyone, but it's all over the news. "Will my parents believe the news?" My friends would. I'd never got close enough to anyone, other than Sandy.
"Your parents trust you, even if you were framed, they'd know," Sandy says.
We step through the door and head for the hills. Whoever could frame me on national news is too powerful to fight. We're criminals now, to be shot on sight, and I don't even know why they picked me. Even worse, the real shooter will never be caught, not when everyone is after me.

Most Honorable One
Nicely done Rider! =)

Rebel Rider
Thanks. I got the idea after seeing stuff about shootings on the news, and the idea came to me, "what if the shooter was framed?"
posted 4 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Most Honorable One
Most Honorable One
Writing Prompt for November
The writing prompt for this month is to write a story that takes place in one hour, or to use this "If you'll give me a minute...I think I can make this worse."
Rebel Rider

I watched the liberated prisoner. Darsha limped from one of her injuries, probably a kick. I prayed she didn't have any serious internal injuries. She moved well, other than the limp, but her species seemed to have a high pain tolerance, at least from my experience.
Her ears perked. She froze, one clawed hand held out, warning me back.
A trio of dark shapes appeared from the dark forest in front of us. My group, or ex-group. They held rifles.
"Traitor," Hutch's voice snapped.
I stepped between the three Humans and Darsha.
"Out of the way, Nate," Hutch snapped.
I stood firm. "No. I'm not letting you hurt her."
Hutch snorted. "That monster's a "her" now? This is your last chance. Get out of the way, or I'll shoot you and take back our prisoner. Don'g make it worse for yourself than it already is."
Darsha stepped close to me and whispered. "If you give me a minute," she paused and tensed her claws. "I think I can make this worse." Her ears were flat against her head. She wasn't going to be taken prisoner, not again.
She darted to the left, off our path, her injury not slowing her.
I hesitated a second then darted right, much more clumsily than Darsha. The three raced after her. I doubted they'd catch her, not in the forest. She was a predator, more of one than humans would ever be.
I headed for the nearest alien outpost. Hopefully, Darsha would get there in time to tell them I wasn't on the side of my group.
posted 3 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )
Most Honorable One
Most Honorable One
Writing Prompts for December
"Oh, come! O Come, Emmanuel!"
The janitor rolled his eyes. "Here we go again." It wasn't easy, being called Emmanuel at Christmas. If he had a dollar for every time someone had used that line to get his attention in December, he could afford to retire and move to southern climes. He glanced at his watch. It was a quarter past one and he'd missed lunch. Again. Because another kid had barfed at lunch from eating too many treats. And it wasn't even the parent's fault. It was that doggone teacher who insisted on having Christmas parties right before lunch. Usually they did it at the end of the day. Technically, she shouldn't be allowed to do that, but she was nearly as old as Methuselah and mother of the principal to boot, so Emmanuel could only rejoice in the fact that sooner or later she would face mandatory retirement.
He shuffled along, stomach rumbling. A little vomit didn't do much to dull his appetite once he was removed from the situation. He'd done this for too many years now for that to stay with him long, but now he lunch was going to be delayed more, and if there was one thing Emmanuel liked to do, it was to eat his meals, nice and regular. It was healthier, they said, and he wasn't liable to be cranky if he ate on time.
He walked into his office, which was more like a glorified broom closet with a desk and a computer added. Why he needed a computer to clean the school was beyond him. Writing emails to his boss was irksome. Nothing wrong with a phone or a weekly sit down. If the school was clean, there really wasn't much to talk about at all save for special events. They'd wanted him to get a smartphone so they could be on him all the time, but he'd seen through that ruse.
"Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel!" Principal Hewitt was the worst of them all. What he was doing in the janitor's office was beyond him, but he couldn't very well roll his eyes in front of him, so he did it in his head, instead.
"What do you need?" The janitor asked, warily, seeing his lunch bag on the shelf behind the principal. It was taunting him, sitting there smugly not being eaten.
"There's a leak in the basement that needs fixing on the double. If you had a smartphone, I could have texted you that and saved us all this fuss."
"I'm on it now." Emmanuel gathered his supplies as the principal left. It was odd, really, that he'd come here for a leak. What was wrong with using the PA to call him to the office to tell him? Something wasn't right, here, and it was starting to make him uncomfortable. He didn't even understand why there was a basement; how many schools even had them? He hated it down there. It was old, dank, musty and full of cobwebs despite his regular cleaning down there.
He unlocked the service elevator and headed down, getting hungrier by the moment. If this was Halloween or April 1, he'd have suspected this was a prank, but no one played pranks at Christmas. No, he just had to listen to endless Christmas carol lines using his name, over, and over, and over again. When would people realize there was nothing new or original about it?
The elevator opened and it was clear immediately that this was no prank call. There was a leak, and not something small. Emmanuel was not technically a plumber, but years ago had been a physics geek doing low temperature physics, so he'd learned a thing or two about plumbing working the cooling machines to get things down to 20 K or lower. So many gases, each to get the chamber down a certain amount, so many pipes. Sighing, cussing and sweating, he took out his tools and began the repair. It wasn't even difficult, once he got started, and by the time he was done it was only 2:04. Not as bad as he'd feared, and if he was quick about it, he could be eating his lunch by 2:15. But just before he stepped on the elevator, he heard it. Sort of a bleat, a sob and a wail combined. Really, it was the oddest sound he'd ever heard, and it was coming from somewhere behind him.
It couldn't be rats; he had smuggled Lionel down here years ago. The biggest cat he'd ever seen, a prolific hunger, had taken care of all vermin. As long as Emmanuel changed the litter box, gave him water, leave a night light on, some food in his bowl and the odd petting, Lionel was happy to sleep away over 20 hours a day. No one else had a key to the basement, so other than the vermin that snuck in through various holes no human could ever hope to navigate, there was no one that could in or out. This was not right, and Emmanuel had no choice but to investigate, stomach rumbling or not. He sighed, grabbed a heavy flashlight, and started to search.
Lionel was sleeping in his usual spot. Hadn't done more than stirred in his sleep the entire time Emmanuel was down there, so it hadn't been him. Emmanuel spotted some rat remains, so went back to his cart to get a bag to clean it up. "Should have thought of that anyway," he thought. As he was wiping up the spot were the remains had been, he heard it again. He walked around the room carefully. He located it behind The Door. He'd never been able to open that door, so had never worried about it. The former janitor, who had trained him, said there was nothing behind it and not to worry about it, and Emmanuel never had. Why make more work when he already had his hands full? But it was time to figure out how to open it.
He'd tried every key he had before, but went through them again, just in case. Nothing. He put on a glove and swept his had across the top of the door frame. Nothing, of course. You couldn't actually kick this door down, since it was reinforced steel and he'd break his foot. Then he had a hunch. In some of the versions of the song "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" there was a verse about David's key. He walked to the left. There was an old pair of books called "David's Treasury" by a Charles Spurgeon. He opened the first one and rifled through the pages. Nothing. He opened the second one, rifled through the pages, and just as he thought he'd hit another dead end, there it was. A key taped to the back cover, which was thick and had a niche carved out for it so it didn't make a telltale bulge.
"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle," he muttered to himself, and heard that noise again. He took the key out, and sure enough, it fit. He knew he was probably crazy to open the door by himself and should get help, but his stomach was still rumbling. Nothing, not stress, not fear, not anything, interfered with Emmanuel's appetite. He looked at his watch. 2:15. He was not going to delay lunch any longer, risk or no risk. Holding his breath in case there was some sort of noxious gas--not likely if something was alive in there, but he couldn't be too sure--and turned the key.
That was the last anyone ever saw, heard or knew of Emmanuel the janitor.
Captain Korina
This is awesome! I love the sprinkling of humor throughout, and the way you combined the prompts. Oh man. I so want to know what happened to Emmanuel.

Rebel Rider
Who will take care of the poor cat? :(

That's the thing about short stories, they don't always...
PS So glad you liked it :).
posted 2 months ago. ( reply | permalink | delete )

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