Tag: Creative Writing

100 Word Story – Finger

It was just a dare. That’s all it was suppose to be—nothing more, nothing less. We were all in agreement that even though this dare was a bit over-the-top, it was going to happen.

Rob stuck out his hand while Sylvia got a knife from the kitchen. I grabbed Rob’s hand and started the “Knife Game.” It started off slow and easy, just like it should. But once a minute passed and I picked up speed, that’s when the first finger came flying off.

And then the next, and the next, and the next. I couldn’t stop myself anymore.


Follow Luka on Facebook and Twitter for more content and a look into Luka’s life!`

100 Word Story – Red Handed

Most of the people were crying while the rest were struck with awe and wide-eyed. I honestly couldn’t feel any sympathy for them. If anything, the fact that I was there was their reason for still being alive.

Of course, seeing me covered in the blood of their loved one probably wouldn’t have help my explanation. I already knew that it would be a waste of time trying to convince them. Regardless of their ill feelings towards me I collected my things and began my exit of the bloody house. I tripped over a severed limb.

Onto the next possessed.


Follow Luka on Facebook and Twitter for more content and a look into Luka’s life!

100 Word Story – Wander

That day, I was wandering around as usual through the body-packed city streets, seeing all of the different faces that I came across. Being in such a crowded place made getting around hectic, but I was able to navigate through pretty easily.

However, it was a bit too easy. I was sure that I bumped shoulders multiple times with others, but I didn’t feel any contact. Even the cars would seem to miss me when I wasn’t paying attention to the crosswalks.

It was as if nobody noticed me. It was like I was a ghost wandering in city limbo.


Follow Luka on Facebook and Twitter for more content and a look into Luka’s life!

June Note – 6/6/2018

It’s weird to see days where the temperature is in the 60s for most of the day. Though, being between 60 and 70 degrees is perfect weather for me. It’s not too hot and nice to have a light jacket if I want it.

Hello to the month of June and hello to y’all, the readers. How you doin’?

Now, for those who have been keeping up with these, I normally save the monthly note for about after the first half of the month is over, when I’ve started posting a bit. But this one is really early into the month, not even the first full week has gone by. Reason being that I have a few ideas on my mind that I wanted to let you all know beforehand, whether or not some of these happen or not.

The first thing on the agenda: Site Change and Update.

When I was looking at the drop-down list on the sidebar of the website, I felt like it was a bit cluttered. There are tabs for thing that only happen at a certain time of year or were only a one-time thing. So, what I was thinking was to change the different options to things being genre specific, while having the major, long term projects to have their own thing as well. I haven’t fully decided on that yet, but I should have the new sidebar in effect by the end of the month.

Second: Posting Frequency and Quantity.

Lately, I’ve found my passion for hand-writing my stories out in notebooks and then typing them up for posting. I feel like I get a lot more of a story put out that way and they’re better quality like this. That being said, I may limit my major posts to about twice a week. For a while, I’ve felt like you guys would want various kinds of things to read throughout the week.

I have a bunch of different story ideas, some already being worked on and some taking the back burner until my work load lightens up, so instead of a weekly schedule, I may do like a monthly schedule. It would let me get out more stories and still give me time to prepare the next chapter, if certain ones are going to be long-term. If I still have a small page or two story to put out, I’ll just do it.

Last: Nothing.

You were expecting there to be a third topic, weren’t to? Well, no for this post. These two topics were on my mind a lot, so I wanted to inform you guys of the possible changes coming, to keep you guys in the loop. Some things aren’t final yet, but they’re in the process of being sorted out. Nonetheless, I will continue to put things out for you all to read whenever you have free time or want to distract yourself from work just like I do.

That’s all for now, everybody. Enjoy the rest of your day!

Necrotic (Part One)

The leaves crunched and crackled as footsteps continued to walk across them. The light at the end of the darkened forest grew brighter, a flame dancing in the breeze. Through the small hole in the damaged hood, the walking stranger glanced up at the forest brush overhead blocking off the night sky. The thick leaves on the trees even seemed to be guiding the stranger towards the flame.

What awaits our stranger at the orange flame?

Clanking glasses and cheers all around as the tavern opened up for the night. One patron has a crowd of people around him as he exaggerated a tale from one of his many triumphant hunts for bandits. Although many of the listeners know the truth behind the tales, they can’t help but cheer on in a drunken daze as he described his “dates with death” and how he compiled such a large amount of gold.

At the end of his current story the crowd cried out, “What be your greatest bout with bandits, ye ol’ Hagar?”

Stroking the greying beard longer than his neck and ordering another round of ale for the entire tavern Hagar began yet another tale, this one not needing any exaggeration. Getting down from standing up on the table, he

“Ay, so listen to this tale. This be one of great intrigue, and the true meaning of ‘staring Death in the face.’ So there be I, wanderin’ through Sublime Caverns just on the other end of Mount Dreatha. I be on my way back to turn in the finger of me latest bounty for Grethian Naklak, that lisardman who was caught stealing in town. The bounty called for his ring finger as proof of his death.”

One of the listeners question, “Did he still have the ring he stole from the shop?”

Bluffing compassion and honesty Hagar let out a deep sigh and shook his head, “Sad to say, but no. I think he traded it off before being found. Nonetheless, that finger was coming with me. As I navigated the road back down the mountainside, another person approached me. At glance, it be some hag covered in rags and tattered clothes. I paid no mind, until said person stopped in my path. The hag whispered, ‘Your actions will not go unseen. I am always watching.’”

“Maybe it was somebody you saved before, wanting to thank you.”

“It be weird for Death to be thankin’ ye.” Hagar gulped down half of his pitcher of ale before continuing with his tale. “I caught a glimpse of the hag’s face through the hole in her hood. Eyes red as freshly spewed blood and skin whiter than the snow from the first days of winter. That day, I saw Death face-to-face.”

The listeners did a collective gasp, whispering to one another. Everybody kept their eyes on Hagar and was stunned when they saw the large grin on his scarred face. With a slam of his fist on the table and kicking back his seat to stand up, Hagar roared in the tavern, “Death be afraid to confront me!”

Everybody fell silent, the words of a drunk man ringing in their ears. It didn’t stop them from bursting into cheers along with him.

It’s a shame none of them noticed Death was nearby.

You Fool

It was all his fault.

He was the reason why everything ended up the way they did. If he had done as I asked, things would have worked out for the both of us. But because of his constant questioning and reasoning there was no other choice for my actions; I had to make sure that my slate would remain clean and without any blemishes. I had established my reputation after a long period of time.

“You fucking idiot,” I whispered as I looked down at him, our eyes locked in a never-ending stare. I inched a bit closer, noticing the darkened color of his once hazel irises, “Why didn’t you follow my instructions? Everything was perfectly planned out, and you ruined it.”

All of those months of getting everybody onto my side was now in jeopardy. All that time having to suck up to higher management and build a status for myself was on the edge of collapsing. Those countless days off overtime were almost for nothing. And Russell was to blame for everything going to shit.

Seeing him laid out on the ground beneath me, just lying there stiff as a board, I couldn’t control myself when my fingers caressed his still warm cheek. I moved his head from one side to the other and back, taking note of any suspicious marks and cuts on him. Outside of the normal cuts from a weekly shave, there wasn’t anything too visible. Except for the red marks around his now pale neck.

“We can’t let others see you now, can we? They’ll think something physical went down.”

Thankfully I had more than enough tools to deal with this kind of situation. I knew that learning how to powder my face would eventually have a more practical use.

With only a matter of minutes, I ran into the second floor bathroom and grabbed the small makeup kit inside the medicine cabinet. With the dusting brush in hand and an array of skin tones to choose from I perfectly blended a mixture of different powders to match the skin tone on his neck, a peach-turning-pale color. Just to be on the safe side, I started covering any kind of mark that would indicate some kind of struggle whether it was new or not.

“Beautiful.” I mumbled as I admired my work. The red marks around his neck were now artfully masked by makeup, now invisible to the naked eye. Thankfully the makeup was a new organic blends of cosmetics I’ve started using, which world mean it would be even harder for police and coroners to detect after a set amount of time. Better for me.

I took a few steps back and overlooked Russell and his stiffened glory. The one arm he had up trying to defend himself with was slowly descending to the ground. I sped up the process by carefully lowering the limb to his side, making sure rigor mortis didn’t fully set in yet.


Follow Luka on Facebook and Twitter for more content and a look into Luka’s life!

Don’t You Remember? (Part Two) [18+]

I was still trying to piece together the events of last night. Everything is still a blur, but I need to at least know how things happened. As much as I don’t want to, I’ll have to keep everything a secret from Samuel, my boyfriend. 

It was still surprising that I even ended up in bed with somebody else. Maybe Toni remembers something that I don’t. Wait, did I even see her last night?

Damn, I really can’t remember. Well, fuck it for now. Let me just ease up at home, try and get some sleep. Hopefully that will help bring things back to me. 

That’s how I’m going to keep last night a secret.

I gave Samuel another kiss on his cheek before breaking away and walking down the hallway to the back of the apartment, “Yeah. Toni went shopping earlier this week.”

I couldn’t help showing a coy smile at him, “Hey there, big man. You trying to spy on me while I’m showering, huh?”

Don’t You Remember? (Part One) [18+]

Something’s not right. Last night is all a blur, I don’t know how the hell I ended up here, and I sure as hell know I need to get out of here. My entire body felt like shit and it’s hard for me to wake up.

Then again, based on the way things are, do I really want to wake up? If I do, then that means that all of this stuff was real. More importantly, how am I going to explain all of this to my boyfriend? 

He’s won’t like this.

I didn’t get a response. He was probably still in a deep sleep, considering the fact that I could yell right in his ear and he still wouldn’t wake up.

My stomach sank as everything started clicking in my mind like a puzzle. I had to lean over and keep my head in my hands to try and think.

“Thank you for last night. I had a lot of fun with you.”

Screwdriver

“Tell me, Mr. Hudson. What goes on in that thick skull of yours? You seem to the be type of person who lets their mind wander about all day and night. Or, perhaps you just do that to help you forget the worries and stressful nature of your daily life.”

Ezekial kept up his casual, back and forth pacing in the darkened room. Even with just a single, low-hanging light bulb in the center of the room, he could catch the glimmering of the various tools scattered along the ground. He picked up a small hammer, eyeing the light layer of rust on the top of the claw – the part that helps take out nails, “This could be useful. I should go through all my options first.”

Without looking behind him, Ezekial lobbed the rusty hammer over his shoulder. Before hearing the sound of crashing metal, the screaming of a man came from behind him. Ezekial’s skin hardened full of goosebumps as the man continued screaming for a bit longer; sobs and pleading started replacing the scream.

“Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to you?”

Ezekial came to a sudden halt, “‘What have I ever done to you?’ You really don’t know why I brought you here? Are you that fucking dense?”

With his face buried in his hands, Ezekial took a moment to to breath, about to let out a scream of his own, but the only thing that came out was a loud, exhausted sigh. Part of him couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of this man’s mouth. It just made him more angry, wanting to put all of this behind him. However, Ezekial didn’t want to just finish his current job; he wanted to relish and enjoy the sight a bit longer before bringing it all to an end. He looked down in front of him and saw a broken screwdriver, the head of it gone, leaving a razor-edge point in place.

Ezekial juggled the screwdriver in his hand as he turned to face the man. Placed under the light bulb in the center of the room sat a wounded man, chained and bound by his wrists, ankles and chest. Gashes and bruises mark the marked the man’s entire body, blood tricked down and formed a small pool around his feet. Chunks of his grey hair are gone, like somebody has been dragging him by the scalp.

The man could barely keep his head up to look at Ezekial. His strength reserves were near its end, and he wanted to try and use whatever he had left to try and survive the torture he was expecting to happen.

Seeing the injured man put a strange gurgling sensation in the center of Ezekial’s stomach. It was a very familiar sensation he’s come to recognize after years and years of giving into his hobby. He’s managed to see a bunch of the people who he’s had conflict with in the past and managed to find closure. Today was no different.

He crept up to Nathan, the man bound to the chair. With his free hand, Ezekial grabbed him by a clump of his hair and forced him to look up. Seeing Nathan’s bulky neck, the broken screwdriver pressed against his windpipe, just moments away from piercing straight through it with enough force.

“Nathan Hudson. Born in September of 1972. Graduated top of his class in high school and got a full scholarship to Uni of Nevada. You had it all.”

“How do you know all of this about me…?”

Ezekial’s face was covered in a frown full of hate, “I have my sources. But don’t fret. You won’t be missed.”


Follow Luka on Facebook and Twitter for more content and a look into Luka’s life!

— via Daily Prompt: Fret

Wine-Made-Molotov

Nobody likes a person who’s always thinking that the world revolves around them, that everything they do is the real-life version of perfection. They’ll always try to convince others that they’re the one who’s wrong and will fight just to prove a false point.

However, there are certain people who have no good proof that they’re even usable or reliable. Their constant mistakes only drag on and make certain things more difficult than it should be. And the person would even continue and try to say that they can do wrong.

When faced with the wrong person, the perfectionist will be faced with the result of their self-centered ego.

Something like that doesn’t take priority at the moment. Somebody else can take care of it.

The sounds of papers shuffling echos at the end of the aisle as he carefully turns around to avoid hitting the wine bottles organized on the wall rack. The bright ceiling light illuminates the thick, bushy facial hair hanging from the bottom of his chin.

Every time I see this mother fucker, I just wanna punch him straight in the face.

Healer By Trade [18+]

In a weird way, I can see myself acting like the same kind of character like the one I play in my video games. I always tend to go for the one that looks over everybody, making sure they’re all okay and wanting to keep them in tip-top condition. 

And in my actual life, I’m always doing my best to try and keep my girl happy and healthy. But just like in video games, I won’t always be given an easy task to complete. But, with a big of creativity and technique, I can do just about anything.

And tonight, it involves feeling “frisky.”

From the loudness of her voice and the constant use of the word “Fuck,” I can’t help but assume work was more than stressful today.

I give her a warm smile. I know she didn’t mean to say that to me, “It’s alright, baby.” I plant a quick kiss on her heated cheek to accept her apology.

Monster Madness – What’s Better: Bleaching or Slime?

“Till death do us part.” It’s a simple line, yet it holds a deep and complex significance behind it. So many say those words, some fall apart rather quickly, and very few actually manage to make it until death is at their door.

In this case, death literally came for them but gave them another life: the life of a living skeleton. After living as a skeleton for so long he has forgotten what it’s like to be human. But he doesn’t mind it at all. However, his wife has a different idea about it.

After a few seconds of hearing my genuine laughter she finally looks at me again with a small smile on her face.

“But come on! You look handsome as a human, with your light brown hair and caramel-color skin. Why don’t you go to an alchemist to become fully human again?”