Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #286

This is a writing prompt. Bet you can’t do it! Take the 10 random words below and crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story! And remember: after (if) you finish entering your submission into the comment field, highlight your words and click the bold button to make them stand out and help you determine if you forgot any words. (If you’ve missed previous writing prompts, we BET YOU CAN’T do those, either.) NOTE: Our bolding plugin is gone, so you’ll have to put <b> and </b> around each of your words if you want them to stand out, but NOT REQUIRED THOUGH.

  1. Lock
  2. Worn
  3. Get out
  4. Please
  5. Race
  6. Brutal
  7. Scent
  8. Fire
  9. Under
  10. Why

NOTE: Don’t copy and paste from MS Word. Use a program like notepad that removes formatting or just type in the comment field itself. Also, finish your submission, THEN bold the words. Thanks. (And don’t forget to tweet this and share it with your friends.)

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34 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #286”

  1. A Hole in the Sun
    Maddy and Sarah tried everything they could to remove the lock from the University entrance. They even conjured up a bolt-cutter, but neither of them had the strength to cut through the metal. To add insult to injury, the lock looked rusty and worn, certainly nothing like the more common shiny unobtanium crystal locks. In a last desperate attempt, Sarah attempted to create a portal through the wall. For her effort, she received a nasty jolt. A tinny voice piped up, “Get out, please! School opens in 97 days.”

    Sarah began to cry. “Foo-far only has enough food and water for seventeen more days!”

    The tinny voice replied, “Well, why didn’t you just say so? Foo-far will be fed and watered. Now, go away!”

    Maddy raised a questioning eyebrow. She looked at Sarah. Simultaneously, they yelled, “Jimmy!” In answer, the lock fell away. The door opened to reveal a grinning Jim Tombstone levitating in the lobby. The girls raced in, as thoughts of brutal retribution foremost arced outward in green and purple spirals.

    Sarah tossed a fish net over Jim, while Maddy pummeled him with prickly pears. When he didn’t resist or cry out, the girls stopped, confused. The suspended figure suddenly burst into flame. Sarah screamed and recoiled from the scent of burning flesh.

    The tinny voice laughed cruelly. “I told you to go away. Now look what you made me do. Surely, Sarah, this barbecue will alleviate your latent omophagiaphobic tendencies, no? You would have starved as a zombie.”

    Maddy sputtered, eyes turned to the ceiling. “Why are you doing this, Jim?”

    The tinny voice snorted, “Jim? Puh-lease! That pencil-necked freak doesn’t have the imagination for this! Don’t worry, that’s not really him in the fire. In fact, this doesn’t exist outside of your two feeble brains. I have you under my spell.” It concluded with a sarcastic, “Mwah. Ha. Ha!”

    Sarah, curled up on the floored, whimpered piteously. Maddy dropped down beside her and cradled Sarah’s head. Maddy was trying to keep it together for her friend’s sake but the disembodied voice had unnerved her. Both girls were on the verge of succumbing to the dark side of mind-over-matter: an anterior medial prefrontal crossover event. They had been trained in cortical self-defense but, the classroom had never prepared them for malevolent mental rape. Sarah, with the last ounce of self-will, whispered the safe word.

    ***

    Professor Psycho grinned. “Full marks for you, Sarah.”

  2. K says:

    Under the impression I would enter last because of my age, Lily crushed my hopes when she shoved me toward the front of the line.

    W-why?!” I stuttered, taking a step back. “I thought you were going first.”

    “You’re not getting out of this no matter how much you ask me. Since it’s your first time here, I want to make sure you experience everything.” I turned around, trying to make sense of the words coming out of her mouth. Noah, the friend she’d invited, broke into a grin when he spotted my lost face.

    “Are you ready?” he asked. I shook my head and compelled myself to move forward in line. Why did it seem like this line raced ahead, forcing me closer to the finishing line inch by inch? The brisk air stabbed like a nail as I advanced toward the castle structure with its turrets glaring down at me. An enormous explosion elicited a whimper from me, and I flinched and clamped my ears shut. Fire and sparks danced across the sky, and the scent of burning flesh permeated the atmosphere. Grotesque creatures materialized on stage marred with brutal scars inflicted upon themselves. It took a second before I arrived at the conclusion that they were not beasts but human. Containing the shock from pouring from my mouth, I held a hand in front of my mouth. Noah noticed my fearful expression and decided to speak up.

    “Hey, don’t be too scared. It’s alright,” he removed my hand from my mouth then patted me on the back. “It’ll be much more scary inside. Just you wait.” I wanted to say that to this day I’m thankful for Noah’s actions, but he infuriated me more than comforted. Opening my mouth to protest, a lady at the entrance donned in an eerie ghost attire stopped me, demanding the ticket for passage. Lily stepped up and delivered the tickets but retained one.

    “Are all three of you going in?” she pointed to each one of us.

    “Yes, but can I just keep one to preserve the memory?” Lily requested.

    “Sorry, no, but maybe if I see the young one come out,” her gaze flickered in my direction. Her makeup done with exceptional details made her appear as frightening as her guise did. I stared at the ground, evading her stare, “I’ll let you keep it.” The tone of her voice sounded as if she didn’t expect me to journey through this alive. Please let me get out of here alive, I prayed, toddling on the worn stone path. The unlocked gate revealed the interior of the garden which shone with a blue illumination. Statuary situated before me slightly shifted their head, eyeing me with curiosity and twisted mischievousness.

    “Guys?” my voice trailed when a dark angel inched toward me. Tossing a glance across my shoulder, I spotted nothing but darkness as the gate had shut on its own accord. I felt my breathing quicken while I tried avoiding the malignant entity. Breaking into a sprint, I bumped into yet another obstruction whose face etched itself into my memory. She shrieked in my face and swung her hand in an attempt to claw me. I dropped to the floor against the broken foundations of the garden and repressed a scream. The angel teamed up with the vengeful creature and sneered at my helpless position. I scrambled onto my feet and braced myself for anything they might have thrown at me which might have been limbs, but a shadowy blob burst in front of me and grabbed my arm.
    “‘Scuse me. Gotta get through,” the familiar voice brought me back to reality. Noah dragged me further down the path, ignoring the bodies throwing themselves at us both. “Hey, you okay?” I shook my head when he looked my way and permitted a scream to erupt from me when I heard a shallow breath and an impact on my back. Knowing it came from Noah when he laughed, I glared at him.

    “It’s not funny,” I said.

    “That’s the whole point, though. It’s funny seeing you scared. If you keep falling at everything you see, we’ll never get out of here.”

    “She told me to go first! Why are you even here? I thought you were supposed to be behind me,” I spat.

    “She doesn’t have to know. Besides, she got caught up with the chainsaw guy in front. Someone has to take responsibility for you,” he commented.

    “Well, I’m fine now,” I said, but my voice faltered. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m weighing you down.”

    “Oh, really? I’ll just be going now.” Noah rushed past me. My footsteps weighed me down, trailing far behind him. As soon as I perceived a dog’s snarl and felt as if needles pricked the back of my neck, I hurried towards Noah then tugged on the back of his shirt, urging him to slow down. To my surprise, he did.

    “I knew you would come back,” Noah remarked. “You’re such a kid.” Kicking the lump of dirt, I lowered my eyes at the ground. I caught his eye, and he smiled. Before I tell more of this story, don’t think I valued his presence anymore than I do now; he was the person who got me into this situation in the first place. At least, that was what I wanted to believe.

  3. Jen says:

    I was careful. I waited for The Duchess to retreat to her study at night. Or I raced home from school to let the brutal heaves come. I became distracted during my fifth period class, but the Chem 1 teacher, Mr. Vessel, didn’t care. He was too busy trying to catch peeps up our pleated skirts. I had a fire burning under my skin. It burned and it hurt and I wanted to prolong the pain. I wanted to add kerosene. And bits of timber. So I ate.
    Normally, of course, like the rest of my friends. The birdlike bites of the teenage girl. We picked the cheese from the pizza and nibbled it. We picked the best parts of the crust and worked it into a chewable mass between our professionally straightened teeth. The sauce, I learned the hard way, scraped on the way back up, and it tasted horrible.
    At home, I created a ritual. It didn’t take long. I knew. Lock the door. Rotate the rug at the base of the toilet. The muted colors in the throw had worn in little circles where my skin at my kneecaps had sunk; giving it a quarter turn every day saved me from explaining a pattern. Spent as much time at my altar as I did at the library or at field hockey. I bowed in my offering, urging it, the food inside me, get out, get out, get our. I started brushing all the time, and relying on the sharpness of Listerine to get the taste out of my mouth. As often as I brushed, as much as I rinse, the scent of my calories clung to me, under the fresh scrubbed white girl skin, under the French perfume, under the odor of textbooks and pencils.
    I didn’t know what I wanted when The Duchess dismissed my interests. I didn’t know what I wanted in anything. I dreamt, though, of The Duchess to ask me why. In her dry as paper voice, pleading with me to swallow and to keep the calories in my stomach. And to pass them through my system. I wanted, I know, to please her. And I knew that just as much as I wanted to do that, I was done pleasing her.

  4. K Beach says:

    To please myself I stop and vow that Iwill get out and work out why. Why the seemingly endless smalltalk and bombardment of inane advertising images feels brutal.

    Under no sensory duress, I reject this race to have the next ‘thing’ to satisfy the emptiness. I lock the doors and light some candles and try to recover. I am worn down, eroded like sandstone and the scent of the candles and total silence seems to reignite my fire.

    Before long, I can again walk out into the world and overcome my greatest hurdle: getting the weekly food shopping done.

    • Amen to that, K Beach. Since when is Greek yoghurt “new”? LOL

      Cheers,

      Mitch

      • K Beach says:

        Good point and as someone completely addicted to it, I marvel at how you managed to pull that particular shopping list item ‘out of the blue’.

        Nevertheless, I left with a distinct sense of cognitive dissonance and decided to write something different instead.

        Please get out“, I thought and echoed this with large gestures in an attempt to push him closer to the fire. His scent grew stronger with every brutal gesture and I could not work out why he had chosen to come to this place of all the shelters he could seek in the city. A numbing kind of truth took hold of me in that moment, worn down into my heart with a lavish and overwhelming sense of compassion. I stood still and waited to see what he would do next. Would he race away so that I could lock my door and my heart to his needs? Would he attack under the pressure of needing to stay in and be away from the dangers of his world outside? He stopped and fell to ground, panting and exhausted and finally defeated in his need to protect himself.

        I carefully lowered myself into a chair and poured two cups of tea, picked up my book and tried hopelessly to read something. This blind faith in compassion, was the only tactic I had left and was counting that it would be the space-giving exercise he needed to recover and come to his senses. Eventually he stood up and moved slowly over to the table. I did not look up. He sat and sipped the tea and began to weep. Whatever this boy needed, he had found it and my faith deepend in the alternatives to violence in this hostile land. He would come to be my son, my helper and my greatest teacher of all.

      • Anklebuster says:

        The second entry is filling and satisfying. Yum!

        Cheers,

        Mitch

        P.S. The yoghurt commercial just irks me… 🙂

  5. Continuation…

    Jill slammed the door to her room and locked it with a firm click. Tom turned the knob anyway before he gave up and went back downstairs. Worn out from the chase, he heated up the day old coffee in the microwave and downed the tar like substance as he checked the doors and windows. He smiled as he secured the deadbolt, pleased with himself. She would have to break a window to get out and he’d be awake to hear it. She would never know of the brutal race he’d run to get to her first. Others had been on her scent. He’d eliminated one of them but the others would continue to come.

    Tom watched the fire in the hearth and calculated the cost of telling her the truth. Why he pulled her from that club. Who else knew she’d been there and what they wanted from her. A tree branch snapped outside causing a low growl to rumble up Tom’s throat. His incisors elongated and he sniffed the air. Two more had come. Under the cover of a dark moonless sky, they would find him instead.

  6. Shane Arthur says:

    The lock was worn, like fingertips tried to pry it open. The victims most certainly had tried to get out, begging please as they raced away from their brutal captor. The scent of death raged like a wildfire. Under this staircase I’d discover why I’d be his next victim.

  7. mistyfan says:

    Continuation from CCC281 onwards

    Abel and Henri had now finished and were quietly packing up their tools. There was nothing in Henri’s manner that betrayed how anxious he was to get out of there and finish his own special job on Gestapo headquarters. He knew the name of Henri Gabon was known to the Gestapo though he wasn’t sure just how well his face was known, but the longer he stayed the greater the risk he would be discovered.

    Another Gestapo officer came in and introduced himself as Lieutenant Wolf. He beckoned to the plumbers. “I’ve got another job for you. Come along.”

    Henri couldn’t stop a groan.

    The Lieutenant heard it and his eyes flashed the fire of annoyance. “What’s wrong, man?”

    Henri froze; his face flushed. Abel tried to cover up: “I’m sorry sir, my friend’s probably just worn out, it’s been a tough….” Abel stopped at the look on the Lieutenant’s face. The man’s eyes had locked on him and he was scowling in deep, suspicious thought.

    “Is something wrong, sir?” Henri asked while panic mounted in his head; he knew all too well how brutal the Gestapo could be. Oh, no, please no….

    The Lieutenant pointed to Henri. “You – what is your name?”

    “M-my name sir? It’s Perrault. Louis Perrault.”

    The Lieutenant’s face clouded; Henri knew the Boche did not believe him.

    “I have my papers, sir,” Henri fumbled for them in his pocket, playing for time while his mind raced to find a way out, even find a way to put the man off the scent maybe….

    The Lieutenant raised his hand. “Don’t bother.”

    Why, sir? What’s – “Henri never finished the sentence. Out of the corner of his eye he had caught the man’s hand move toward the gun in his holster….

    Next second Henri lunged towards the man, and a right hook swung from under and into the man’s face. The man fell backwards, hit his head against a toilet cubicle and slid down to the floor. Henri couldn’t help marvel that it took only one punch to down him. He paused a moment to watch the man; he lay where he was and did not move. The only sound in the room was Abel’s terrified whimpers.

    There was a clatter of noise and chorus of raised voices outside. Next moment Straum burst in. In one second he took in the unconscious man and the frightened plumbers.
    “What’s going on here?” he snarled. “What happened to him?”

  8. mistyfan says:

    @Mitch: well, it would be pretty boring if it wasn’t smooth sailing for them all the way.


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