Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #287

Today’s words are brought to you by Liss Thomas.  Liss is a young adult author currently traveling with her husband across the country. Her debut novel, Finding Monsters is the first in the ‘Guardians of Esurack’ series, now available on Amazon.com

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. Finding
  2. Monsters
  3. Blue
  4. Shimmering
  5. Guardians
  6. Anubis (jackal headed Egyptian god)
  7. Light
  8. Butterfly
  9. Realm
  10. Quest

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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42 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #287”

  1. Weeeeeeeeee! Enjoy guys!

    Continuation…

    Jill stared out the window as branches scraped against the new panes. She could see the large screws securing the window shut from her perch on the bed and swore under her breath. It used to be a picture window but now the old divided pane broke up the view into small ugly squares. How was he finding the time to do all of this? He probably got help from his former cop buddies. They appeared out of nowhere like guardians on a quest to ruin her life. Jill kicked off her black punk boots and shrugged into her favorite skull T-shirt. She climbed into bed and turned off the light.

    The realm of sleep and dreams crossed into reality. Jill heard the sound of nails clicking her window and monsters fighting below. She awoke with a start and glanced at the window. A large butterfly sat on the corner, its blue iridescent wings shimmering in the moonlight. Jill smiled and closed her eyes but strange sounds continued to filter through. When she opened her eyes again a face watched her from behind the divided panes. Lips pulled back over sharp canines, dark cold eyes stared at her from the head of a jackal, like the Egyptian god Anubis. The growl its lips made shook the glass, penetrated the walls and caused her heart to stop.

    Jill screamed.

  2. […] Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #287 […]

  3. The Start

    Anubis starts his quest of finding a shimmering blue butterfly in the realm of monsters.
    Why he looks for something so beautiful there no one knows.

    The guardians light his way with his son’s oil covered head smoldering on the tip of a pike. This is when he realizes that his choice of a place to start might not have been such a good idea, but it too late to save his son.

    Moral:  Be careful of where you start looking, as the choice may have unintended consequences.

  4. […] is my submission to Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #287, to see the other submissions, or to add one of your own, just go to the link and follow the […]

  5. A Hole in the Sun
    Maddy and her classmates had too much fun finding the Dragon eggs just beneath the sandy soil. While the seeds were not the stuff of fairy tale monsters, mishandling their oily pods caused them to explode into a useless blob of shimmering blue pulp. The popping noise continually startled the digging students. Their exclamations were punctuated by fits of laughter and rolling about in the desert garden behind the school. No one seemed to be in any hurry to collect the required samples.

    Eventually, the specimen trays were filled. The students reluctantly returned to the climate-controlled Xenobiology lab, where Professor Root awaited her charges. As the last of the class straggled in, the Professor finished preparing her lecture notes. To her, these fresh-faced, blue-stained kids – the de facto guardians of this alien outpost – were more like the irresponsible spawn of Anubis. She decided to address the gravity of today’s exercise:

    “While you may think it is all fun and games out there, let me remind you that your lack of respect for this fragile ecosystem will ensure that you inherit a dead planet. Dragon eggs are the only species capable of growing in the intense heat and constant light. The saplings nourish the few animals and birds that thrive here. In turn, the animal droppings fertilize the soil for the next batch of eggs.

    “If too many eggs are destroyed, the saplings will become sparse and the fertilization will have no effect. This is already happening in the Gamma Quadrant. Hence, today’s experiments. Please, partner up. After a brief lecture, we will begin the practical portion of the class.”

    Maddy and Sarah scooted over to claim Jim. Jim smiled at the girls and propped up his note tab. He whispered, “Don’t bother taking notes, I’ve got an auto-dictator on mine. Just listen to ol’ Rooty and try not to fall asleep.” Sarah frowned disapprovingly, but Maddy giggled. For appearances, both girls propped up their note tabs and sat forward attentively. This made Jim snort with delight.

    Professor Rooty began to drone on about the role of introducing Earth life to Gaia Prime. Of particular interest to the current class, the swallowtail butterfly and the bumblebee were to be synaptically rewired to prefer Dragon saplings. The goal, eventually, was to cross-pollinate Earth grass with the Dragon genome in order to produce a more hardy carpet for the arid realm.

    Finally, she turned the students loose. They gathered in groups within a make-shift biodome. The large, artificial ecosystem emulator contained a grassy plain, sparsely planted Dragon saplings, dozens of insects and intense heat lamps. The teams buried the newly acquired Dragon seeds at different depths and measured the temperature differences. They recorded every measurable element they could think of, from the number of butterflies per square foot, to the flight paths of the bumblebees.
    Then began the grand quest of reprogramming the butterflies and bumblebees. The students found that, with practice, they could actually merge with the insects and view the world from their perspective. Once again, fun ruled over function as the kids took over the little bodies.

    Maddy, as a butterfly, flitted around until she found Jim, who was also a giant swallowtail butterfly. They linked antennae playfully and discovered that they could communicate. Jim wanted to find Sarah, who had chosen one of the bumblebees. He and Maddy did their best to annoy her, as she tried to complete her assignment.

    Eventually, Maddy, Jim and most of the other students got around to “suggesting” that their hosts investigate the Dragon saplings. As they left their hosts, not one student stopped to consider whether the experiments would succeed. They simply gathered up their tabs, waved goodbye to Professor Rooty and dashed out of the laboratory.

    Thanks for the words, Liss. I put a little sumpn sumpn in there for you!

  6. Liss Thomas says:

    I’m all smiles! Loved the references!

  7. K Beach says:

    The guardians of small independant shops seem always to come from another realm. Strangers come in looking for their treasure and regardless of the amount of gold in their pockets, these henchwomen of Anubis respond only to a sort of hidden, silent code.

    The carefree butterfly of society will still be light but inadequate when assessed from a sniper view down the nose. The blue shimmering goddess with the bodyguard by the door and fleet of freelance photographers waiting outside, is scrutinised as if to suggest she was a complete fraud. The only type of patron that will be successful in finding the treasures and succeeding in their quest are the frozen monsters wearing dead animals who merely take and push and rarely look over the top of their sunglasses.

    For the guardians, these women are the razors, through which are cut all lines of beauracracy stopping their progression to haute couture collections. These ice queens hold the secret, that only Anubis himself could grant. To be alive but appear to be dead with the personality entombed in the heart. For this dry organ, which having sufficiently shrivelled, will be weighed and declared to be fit only after death.

  8. sreeja says:

    no solace in their lost land,
    the of land mourned.
    of the nether world hovered
    over their of .
    Beyond the darkness there is vastness,
    they believed, the must continue.
    waited for his duty, for the poisonous
    bodies from the nether world, the torturers.
    Butterflies must spread their color, for love
    is mightier than hatred, they know!

  9. sreeja says:

    Finding no solace in their lost land,
    the guardians of butterfly land mourned.
    Monsters of the nether world hovered
    over their realm of shimmering light.
    Beyond the darkness there is blue vastness,
    they believed, the quest must continue.
    Anubis waited for his duty, for the poisonous
    bodies from the nether world, the torturers.
    Butterflies must spread their color, for love
    is mightier than hatred, they know!

  10. Jen says:

    Got time for one more? This is helping me plug along on my nanowrimo. Thanks!

    ““Are you in any pain?”

    She did an inventory of her limbs and innards. Mother had the stark objectivity of a scientist, which she applied to the texts she studied, and to what we in the fashion industry would call her inner life. She was a scalpel and a microscope. She was the control on all the variables. She collected data about her body now in that objective way, finding her limbs weak, her realm no longer a lecture hall but a hospital room colored with grotesque fluorescent light. The Duchess had become the experiment. Her body was the text, the machines they levied around her, hulking tentacles examiners, excising, deconstructing, tearing it apart to assemble an asnwer.

    A web of blue lines etched a path on her forehead, smooth and shimmering. In her reduced state, I still managed to feel a twinge of jealousy about her perfect skin. What sacrifice did she make to the monsters, to Anubis or Jesus to keep that lineless brow? And how could I duplicate it. I’d rather finance a quest for that than make this lusterless attempt at being one of her guardians. Aunt Janice would deliver me. She would be a far better presence to minster to The Duchess.

    I watched her lashes butterfly against her cheekbones, hight and elegant and so old. That was when I realized, though I had already been told this, that my mother was dying.

  11. mistyfan says:

    Now it’s going to be very interesting incorporating this latest challenge into my saga of Henri the freedom fighter….

  12. Mistyfan says:

    Continuation from CCC281 onwards

    “What happened to him?” Straum demanded once more, pointing to the unconscious man. The two plumbers stared at him awkwardly and said nothing. Henri didn’t dare lunge at Straum as well; anybody out in the corridor would be bound to hear. His mind was desperately trying to find a way out, but it couldn’t find anything that would save them from the infamous Gestapo monsters.

    Straum stepped forward. In an odd way he reminded Henri of that jackal-headed Egyptian god he’d seen on a recent exhibition of ancient Egypt. Up until then Henri hadn’t taken much notice of ancient Egypt; the only reason he’d gone to the exhibition was to meet a contact. “Meet me by the guardians of the dead,” he said. That was why Henri had lurked around the Egyptian statue of Anubis, the jackal-headed god of the dead, for a good half-hour and read and re-read all the placards explaining Anubis to pass the time: Anubis lay in wait to judge all souls with the Feather of Truth. Only the good souls were allowed to enter the Egyptian realm of the dead; the evil souls were thrown to the Eternal Crocodile. Henri had hung around Anubis and that fearsome jet-black jackal head of his long enough for that head to stick in his memory. And now the jackal who stood before him now reminded him of that other jackal-head. The Jackal…that would be a good nickname for Straum….

    Just then there was a fearsome yelp, a loud crash and a violent shriek of pain as Straum the Jackal slipped on the shimmering wet floor. He uttered curses and moans of pain and yelled at the plumbers to help him up. Abel stepped forward and politely helped him to his feet.

    “Cursed soap!” Straum grumbled as he kicked the soap bar across the floor and it bounced off the opposite cubicle. He leaned against the wall, wincing with pain and rubbing his posterior. It was then he realised he had fallen almost exactly where the Lieutenant lay. “Is-is that – ooochh – what-what happened?”

    All of a sudden, Henri was finding the horrible flapping butterflies in his stomach easing to the queasiness of relief. He couldn’t believe his luck. “Er, yes, sir.”

    “Well – groan – wh-y didn’t you – oohh – say so….” Straum groaned, still rubbing his posterior with one hand and trying to brush some dignity back into his uniform with the other.

    Another Gestapo officer came in. He took one look around and turned pale when he saw the unconscious officer and the wincing Straum. “What happened, sir?”

    “Soap on the floor, you stupid fool!” Straum snapped, pointing to the unconscious man. “Sort him out and be quick about it! And get that damned soap cleaned up!”

    “Yes, sir,” the officer trod carefully into the bathroom, wary of any slippery patches. Straum stumbled out, still cursing from the pain and rubbing his aching posterior while Henri smiled quietly. But there was no time to hang around; people were crowding around outside to see the latest antics in the bathroom. So the two plumbers started to make their exit, pushing gently through the crowd, muttering, “He slipped, there’s soap on the floor…we’re done, so we’ll be off if you don’t mind…we’ll send you the bill later…we’ve really got to get going…Heil Hitler…good afternoon….”

    The moment they stepped outside, the brilliant blue light of the afternoon sky hit Henri square in the eyes. Tears welled in them; he’d never seen the sky look so beautiful…it was all the relief to get out of there in one piece, without getting caught. It barely registered that his quest at Gesto Headquarters was still not over, that there was still one more thing to do….

    A fierce yank on Henri’s arm brought him back to earth. “Come on, Perrault!” Abel was desperate to get away from Gestapo headquarters. He pushed Henri into the waiting van parked on the kerb. “I need a drink. Let’s get the bloody hell out of here!”

    Henri nodded in agreement. He patted his bag that still carried his little invention and smiled in anticipation. Anubis rose in his thoughts once more…Sacre Bleu! How he would love to see a real Anubis throw those Boche jackals to the Eternal Crocodile.

  13. Quick freeflow . . .

    Finding monsters is the deep dark blue where no light shimmers, no guardians exist, and strange Anubis-like thoughts light up fear like butterflies in the realm of the stomach on a quest to their own acidic deaths.

  14. K says:

    Shimmering blue wings sprout from her back as she regains breath. Perhaps her quest has come to an untimely end. This realm‘s light signals cold desolation instead of faint hope she has grown accustomed to. She assumes continuing will be her final steps toward an unfortunate destination. Her feet shuffle along the path, betraying her suspicions. Stone guardians obstruct the gate woven with vines. Finding them intimidating, she stops. They shift their heads and look down upon her. She raises her arms in front of her face, but no blows strike her down. The sentinels retract their arms holding weapons from the gate which in turn makes her lower her arms. The entrance creaks open, and she ambles through, recalling every myth she had ever learned in her hometown since her experience resembled one of them.

    When the interior reveals a golden scale as its central attraction, cold sweat develops on the back of her neck. Large burning braziers illuminate the temple floor and attract her like a moth. The jackal headed figure motions for her to approach at a quicker pace, holding a feather in his hand. She cringes as she arrives before Anubis, the barrier between the living and dead. He snarls and snaps at her as slobber decorates her face. She wipes it off, but his hand lashes out at her and reaches for her chest. It passes through partially and digs around in search for her heart. She screams as her surroundings melt into a battlefield filled with dunes of dark sand. Monsters converge on the group of five fending them off. The scene lingers on one particular face then reverts back into the chamber of judgement. Anubis manages to fish out the object, but it’s not what anyone expects especially by his calmed expression. In place of her heart, a butterfly settles on his hand. His eyes flicker to hers and confirms the veracity of the events by the look of horror written on her face. Her face pales as she grows lightheaded. He releases it into the air, and they witness as it burst into dust upon contact with the ceiling. It then hits her when she notices the connection between her wings and the butterfly; they are one. Once in the dark, the chance of life appears again. Anubis steps forward and taps her forehead. She feels the pressure lifted from her back, and her eyelids flutter close.

    It seems a month had passed before she awakes submerged in the murky sea. Holding her breath, she propels herself upward and comes up spluttering. As soon as her eyes adjust to the night sky and the environment, she squints at the coast not too far away. Dark sand blends in with the frightening creatures chasing after their victims. Plumes of smoke rise at sporadic locations along the coast. She lunges toward land and begins to strain her limbs in hopes of saving those harassed by the demons. Brother, she thinks, I’m not done yet. Just hold out just a bit longer. I’m here.


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