Tag: Original

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.


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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.


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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!

100 Word Story – Eyes

I can never forget the look in his eyes. It was probably the most hurt and sorrowful I’ve ever seen him. I just couldn’t look back at him—I had to leave him behind.

I tried to ignore the sounds coming from behind me, all of the screaming and cries for help, the tearing of human skin and flesh. It seemed no matter how far away I got the inhuman groaning followed. The only thing that broke that sound was my own muffled crying. If they heard me, I’d be dead like him.

I’m sorry, Henry, but I couldn’t help.

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.


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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.”

Totally Not Sleight-of-Hand

He kept looking at me with those golden brown eyes of his, just watching me with such intensity and intrigue. His eyebrow kept going up and down in a pattern as if he’s trying to give me some kind of signal. Even though I’m looking straight at his, my mind is off wandering someplace else, stuck on his previous attempt on trying to wow me with his “special talent.”

I looked back down on the small, round table in front of us, glancing at the deck of card spread out across the surface. Out of the entire fifty-two deck, only one card is face-up: the queen of hearts. I shuffled that deck at least four times, each time using a different method, I thought to myself. He even turned away while I picked the card, and shuffled it. There has to be some kind of strange prank going on, but I can’t figure it out.

“Well, missy,” Eric began with a cocky tone, “you figured out how I did that?”

I kept my eyes glued to the card just for a moment longer before letting out a sigh, shaking my head, and putting on a small smile, “I don’t know how the hell you did it. But yes, that’s my card.”

Eric laughed, probably at me finally letting down my wall of stubbornness. Ever since I was a kid, I never really believed in the whole idea of magic and magicians. As I grew older, I saw a bunch of different tricks being debunked before my eyes, thus only furthering my disbelief. However, all of those times in the past, I was never the participant in a person’s display of “magic.” In this case, being asked out on a date by a so-called magician was the perfect chance to experience it with my own eyes.

Watching him do his tricked spurred up a small interest in seeing what else he could do. I lean back in my seat, a shoulder propped on the back to keep me balanced. “Alright, Mister Magician Man. What else can you do to convince me that magic is real and not just a bunch of sleight of hand stuff?”

Still cocky, Eric chuckled and leaned forward on the table, eyeing me as if I challenged him, “Oh, I have a lot more I can show you. But, I’ll convince you using one of my favorite talents.”

“And what would that be?”

“I can get your wallet without leaving my seat.”

How could that even be possible, I questioned in my head. My wallet is all the way inside my jean pocket, and we’re sitting on opposite ends of the table.

Subcoiously, I slid my hand into my pocket just to make sure my wallet was where it should be. And it was. Pressed against my thigh in my jeans. I gave Eric a smug-ass smile and said, “Try me.”

Eric readied himself by sitting up in his seat and adjusting the small black tie around the collar of his shirt. Informing me that this next trick would require my help, he took off his dark blue blazer and placed it on top of the table.

He gave me a few instructions as he began the trick, “What I want you to do is think about your wallet. When you have a clear image of it in your mind, I want you to reach into one of my jacket sleeves and feel around for something.”

“That’s it? Seems simple enough.”

There’s no way he could possibly convince me that magic exists. He’s just toying with me to make me look stupid.

Looking directly at Eric, just to make sure he doesn’t try to slip under the table, I put a clear visual in my head about my wallet; it’s a plain, light blue open wallet with a small chain attached around one of the flaps. Without telling him what it looks like, I followed his instructions and reached into one of the sleeves of his blazer and felt around.

At first, all I could feel was the sleek, silk lining of the heavy jacket, cool to the touch no matter how long he had it on. As I went further up the sleeve I started to feel a collection of tiny metal links forming a chain. I froze.

No, this is just a trick. He made me think about my wallet beforehand. My mind is just playing with me, making me think that I actually feel it in the sleeve. I shook my head and continued. With my free hand, I put it over my pocket just to make sure my wallet was still there.

But there was no bulge. Nothing was pressing against my thigh.


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— via Daily Prompt: Sleeve

Way of the Dark Arts

Have you ever wondered what it’s like to have magical abilities? Did you ever want to master pyromancy and set ablaze the place that was once your sanctuary, but is now a land of cursed memories? Do you know how quickly you can make somebody die from hypothermia if you could encase them in a block of solid ice? Why walk through a forest in the dark when you can shock a corpse and turn it into a usable source of light?

The possibilities for magic is endless. And Salnia is here for me to bestow upon her the element of her choice; she’s been begging me for days to take her under my wing as my apprentice Primal Witch.

“Take up your catalyst,” I command her, “and show me just what you plan on doing with your newfound power.”

From the bottom of the steps to my throne, Salnia eagerly looks at me as she raises her hand, “I have already brought my catalyst, my Mistress! It is one that I shall make sure to constantly carry with me at all times.”

Why does she have her hand up? I question to myself. I inch forward a bit from my throne of human carcasses, taking note of a faint, gold shimmering effect around one of Salnia’s fingers. Curiositiy takes hold of me as I approach, the skeletal steps cracking underneath my feet.

“What catalyst have you already selected for yourself? What are you willing to sacrifice in order to unlock your latent powers?”

I grab Salnia’s hand and keep it open, palm side up. Aged scaring and slashes are prominent all across her entire palm, irregularities in healed skin showing how many times one spot was cut open. A golden ring is loosely wrapped around her ring finger; there’s a name engraved on its underside, but there’s a scratch across it, making it completely illegible. I don’t hesitate to take the ring off to get a better evaluation of it.

“This ring seems to have gone through some wear and tear, has it not?” I ask.

Salina nods as she confirms, “Yes. It is the ring given to me on my wedding day. That was quite some time ago…”

“And you want to make this your catalyst. Why is that?”

“That ring has nothing but evil and malicious memories tied to it, memories that I will never be able to forget.” Salina gets up from her kneeling pose and stands up straight in front of me. When I look into her eyes, I can see a growing darkness emerging from within. “And I shall use those memories as my fuel for learning the kind of magic I intend on mastering.”

The talk of evil and darkness, using bad memories as her fuel for mastering magic. She’s using a gift of her from a time she one lived in bliss and happiness, but the marks on her hand tell the opposite. I can’t help but smile when I have an idea of what kind of magic my new apprentice would like to study.

I put the ring back on her finger as I ask one final question, “Salina, my future Primal Witch apprentice. What kind of magic and sorcery have to decided on to learn? Shout out your purpose and I shall decide if your intentions are worthy enough of my time and effort.”

Salina closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath to clear her mind. Her eyes focused on mine and her hands clutched, she yells out, “Show me the way of abysmal magic so I can torture my husband in the afterlife!”


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— via Daily Prompt: Bestow

Display of Honor

The crowd standing below me are all yelling and chanting in a frenzy, just waiting for the final verdict to be given. It has been quite some time since the last public display of force, so I can understand why they’re all so anxious to see what kind of verdict they’re expecting. However, based on the way the crowd are acting, I can tell they want everything to end violently.

“Bash his filthy skull into the pavement!”

“Don’t give him a chance to try and defend himself; he knows he did wrong!”

“Show the splatter on the mallet afterwards!”

I’ve come to appreciate the bloodlust emanating from the townspeople. But their desire is little to none when compared to my own. Ready to let this come to an end, I carefully pushed myself up from my throne and stepped up to the end of the balcony, “My fellow Tavarian people. It is time.”

The excitement of the crowd skyrocketed when they heard my voice call out to them. In almost perfect unison they all turned back towards the castle wall and gazed upward at me, cheering and applauding at my entrance. They start begging for me to give the final verdict as their anticipation is nearing its peak. Although I already knew how today’s display will end, I wanted to tease them just a bit longer.

“Before I give my verdict,” I started, “I understand the Warden would like to make sure everybody is on the same page.” Slowly raising my hand, I point towards the ironclad figure standing on the wooden stage in the center of the courtyard. Next to him is a man, bound by his wrists and ankles, thrown to his knees, and his head hanging off the edge of a stone display. “Warden, would you please.”

Placing his gauntleted fist across his chest, the Warden gave a slight bow before speaking, “Thank you, your Highness.” In a proud display of honor, the Warden then banged on his chest, the chest-plate ringing loudly across the yard, as he roared, “For Tavaria!”

The crowd let out a roar of their own, repeating over and over “For the honor of Tavaria, for the pride of Tavarian might!”

“Tavarian might is absolute. Tavarian honor submits to none,” I whispered under my breath. I felt the blazing energy from the crowd resting in my chest, but I had to keep myself under control; a queen does have their own honor to uphold at times.

The Warden couldn’t help but laugh with glee at the people, feeling joyous at the strong display from the people of Tavaria. However, he knew that this gathering wasn’t to boast, but to punish. He raised his hand and said, “At ease, all. Let us proceed with today’s event.”

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.”


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— via Daily Prompt: Fret