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ceara-klassen · 1 year

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Inadvertent

“You may be able to kill me but you’ll never stop me. Mark my words, I’ll come back and search for as long as I have to until I find you, and when I do, you’ll wish you never did this to me OR to my family.”

Rosalind King is seen from the streets, dangling from the roof of the building like a picture hanging from a tattered string.

The crowd below stares in fear as they watch her slowly slip, inch by inch until finally Roz lets go, barrelling to the ground. There’s a scream. Everything goes black.

Taryn Wheeler practically throws herself out of bed when she is jolted awake, panting and disoriented from the horrible dream she was having.

It was just a dream. She thinks to herself.

Taryn gets up and hops in the shower, itching to wash off the sweat dripping from her brow. When she gets out it’s 7:00am. School starts in an hour and a half.

She runs down the stairs, greeting her little brother, Luke, as she passes him on the staircase.

“Morning, hon.”

“Morning Mom,” Taryn says back, “What’s for breakfast?”

She sits down at the table where a plate of eggs, bacon and toast sits already prepared. She scoffs it down, then grabs her backpack and heads out the door towards Cottage Street to her bus stop.

“Sky!” She calls as Skylar Larkin walks up the road towards their stop.

Skylar runs up to her.

“Hey! Did you get my text last night?” Taryn asks.

“Yes, oh my god! Gage frickin’ Pierce?” Skylar screeches.

“I know, can you believe it? He’s so cute and he wants me, Taryn Wheeler to go to the dance with him! I need to find a dress! Wanna come with me after school?”

“Duh! Can your mom drop us off?” Skylar asks.

“Yeah!”

“Cool! Can’t wait.”

The bus picks them up at 10:10. Once they arrive, they go to their lockers to grab their books for homeroom and each head their separate ways.

They’re both in grade 11 and 16-years-old. They go to Lester B. Pearson Secondary in a town called Foxdale.

Tare-Bear<3: omg he’s totally staring @ me

Queen Skyxoxo: Gage? stop it

Tare-Bear<3: seriously!!! wut do I do?

Queen Skyxoxo: idk? smile?

Tare-Bear<3: he just looked away

Queen Skyxoxo: :(

Five hours later.

Taryn and Skylar have their last period of the day together. They walk into the classroom and sit at their desks, situated directly next to each other.

“Oh my god, class straight up sucks without you!” Taryn exclaims.

“I know, right? Everyone in my first four classes is so lame!”

“If you ladies don’t mind, I might begin my class.” Says Mister Reid, interrupting their conversation.

The girls respond in unison, “Sorry Mister read.”

When class ends, Taryn calls her mom to ask for a ride to the mall.

“She’s on her way.” Taryn says to Skylar.

“Alright.” Skylar responds.

When they get to the mall they head straight for their favourite dress store, Ritchies. Taryn hurries through the store picking up multiple dresses before heading to the changeroom to try them all on.

The girls have to wait at the host table for someone to unlock a changeroom for Taryn to use.

Minutes later, a girl dressed in a black ankle-length dress comes around the corner to answer the ring. She has brown hair and big green eyes. She was only about a foot away from the girls when something visibly changed in Taryn’s demeanor.

Skylar looked at Taryn with worry, “Tare? Tare-Bear? Ar-are you okay?”

Taryn didn’t respond but instead, in the blink of an eye and with no forewarning at all she leapt over the host table and on top of the girl. Taryn’s hands were around the girl’s neck and there was something evil in her eyes. Before Skylar had even realized what was happening Taryn was strangling the stranger.

“Taryn!” Skylar called running towards the girls flailing around on the ground. She grabbed Taryn’s shoulders and tried pulling her off but she couldn’t. This was not Taryn, at least not the one Skylar had accompanied to the mall a mere 20 minutes ago.

“You’ll pay for what you did to my parents. They were crushed when they found out I was gone. I saw it, I felt it.” The sound came from Taryn’s mouth, but it did not come from her. It was distorted and angry and it terrified Skylar.

The stranger’s face was turning purple now and Skylar knew that if she didn’t stop this, this girl would die. She screamed, “TARYN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HER!”

With one strenuous yank, Skylar had managed to get Taryn off and once she was up, she ran. Skylar followed as Taryn ran outside and down the street until finally, she collapsed on the front lawn of someone’s house. She fell unconscious.

Skylar sat on the lawn until Taryn came to and when she did, she was visibly exhausted. Her brows were furrowed and she was breathing heavily.

“W-What just happened?” She asked.

Skylar was shocked, “Do you really not remember?” She stares at Taryn expectantly. When she doesn’t respond Skylar says, “Taryn, you just strangled a stranger in there. If I hadn’t gotten you off of her, she’d be dead. How could you not remember something like that?”

Taryn goes silent now. She pulls out her phone and texts her mom.

The ride home was silent like the night.

When Taryn got home, she went straight up to her room, threw on her headphones and laid in bed until she fell asleep.

“Have you got my shit?” Asks a young boy.

“Depends. How much have you got?” Roz demands.

The boy looks around carefully before pulling a wad of cash out of his pocket.

“Hundred and fifty.” He says.

“That’ll get you a gram of pot, only.”

“I was hoping for more than just pot.” He says.

“Not my problem, this shit ain’t free. Take it or leave it.”

Reluctantly, the boy hands Roz the cash.

“Now fuck off.” Roz says, shoeing him away with her hands.

Taryn springs up in her bed as the sound of her alarm scares her back to consciousness.

7:00am. Time to get up. She checks her phone for any texts from Skylar. There’s none. She sighs. On her way down the stairs this morning she doesn’t greet Luke as he runs up the stairs past her. He puts his hand up for a high-five, Taryn ignores it.

“Morning, hon.” Her mom says joyfully.

“Hi Mom.” Taryn pushes the words out as if it takes all of what little energy she has left.

“You look down, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay?”

“Not really; I slept awful.” Taryn says.

“Did you have another dream?”

“Yeah, but this one wasn’t scary. Just weird.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No thanks.” Taryn takes one bite of her toast before standing up and leaving the house for her bus stop.

“I hope your day gets better, baby!” Her Mom calls after her while she’s heading down the street.

Taryn is standing at the bus stop with her arms folded when she sees Skylar heading towards her. She doesn’t call for her this time. She tilts her head down as if to hide from her best friend, afraid of what she’ll say. She grows more and more nervous the closer Skylar gets, but to Taryn’s surprise, Skylar greets her happily.

“Hey, girl!” She says.

“Hey…” Taryn responds carefully.

“How are you feeling today, Tare-Bear?”

“Uhm, alright, I guess. Sorry about yesterday.” Taryn says slowly, chewing on each word before she spits them out. How bizarre? She thinks to herself. As if apologizing for almost strangling a stranger to death at the mall is something that happens as frequently as bumping into someone while walking through a busy hallway.

There’s a moment of silence. The bus pulls up. The girls sit next to each other at the back and Taryn pulls out her phone. She’s expecting this car ride to be as silent as the last one the two had together.

“It’s okay.” Skylar says. “I’m not sure what happened yesterday, but I know it wasn’t you. You seemed really messed up about it. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“What, and admit to trying to strangle someone? I’ll go to jail, Sky.”

“Juvie, actually. You’d go to juvie.” Skylar teases, smiling shyly afterwards, testing the turbulent waters.

Taryn giggles.

“I get it if you don’t wanna see a doctor, but at least consider it. Something could be wrong.”

“I think something is wrong.” Taryn pauses, “Don’t tell anyone this, but I’ve been having these dreams.”

“What dreams?” Skylar prods.

“Well, dreams about a girl; around our age. Her name is Roz, I think. At least that’s what people keep calling her in my dreams. It started yesterday morning. She was hanging from Town Hall and she threatened this girl standing above her but like, to the side, not directly above her. And then she falls. I woke up just before she hit the ground but I was seeing everything from like, her perspective, I guess? So, it felt like I was falling.”

“Did the girl push her?” Skylar asks.

“No, it was someone else, a man. And then last night, I dreamt about Roz again. She was selling drugs, I think, to a boy around our age as well.”

“16 and buying and selling drugs?” Skylar asks doubtfully.

“I know it sounds crazy but yes. And then Roz brought the money home to her parents and everybody got a cut. It was almost as if her parents told her to sell them, or at least knew she was doing it and were like, okay with it…” Taryn trailed off, her eyes shifted and Skylar could see she was zoning out. She snaps her fingers in front of Taryn’s face.

“Taryn?” She asks.

Taryn shakes her head as she re-focusses. “Hmm? Oh, sorry.”

The bus arrives at their school and the girls head to class.

Queen Skyxoxo: SOS. meet me in the stairwell by Corado’s class NOW.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” Taryn asks her teacher.

Tare-Bear<3: omw

“Look at this.” Skylar holds out her phone. It’s an article and the title reads:

16-YEAR-OLD FALLS TO DEATH FROM FOXDALE’S TOWN HALL; CITY-WIDE MAN-HUNT FOR CULPRIT UNDERWAY

What does this mean? She asks herself.

“Where did you find this?” Taryn demands.

“I was curious about your dreams so I searched “roz pushed from top of building foxdale” on Google and this article was the first thing that came up.”

“So, I’ve been dreaming about a real person who was really murdered?” Taryn asks in shock.

“Seems that way.”

“Well, what does this mean? Why is it happening to me?”

Skylar doesn’t answer, she appears to be consumed in her phone.

“Sky?” Taryn asks again.

“Oh my god. Look.” Skylar holds up her phone once more, but this time there is a picture of two girls. Taryn recognizes the first as Roz. The second girl has brown hair and big green eyes.

“Is this Roz?” Skylar asks.

“Yeah, and that’s the girl from Ritchies. The one I…”

“Holy shit.” Says Skylar.

Taryn gulps.

“Wait a second, at the store when you were on top of that girl, you said something. Well, you didn’t really say it —”

“What do you mean?” Taryn interrupts.

“Well, like, they weren’t words exactly, they were more like sounds, it didn’t sound like you. It didn’t sound like a human.”

“But did you understand it?” Taryn begs.

“Yeah, you said something about her doing something to your parents. And something about how you were “gone”.” Skylar air-quoted the word “gone”.

“My parents? What does this have to do with them?” Taryn asks.

“Not your parents, Taryn. Rosalind’s parents.” Skylar says.

“What does all this mean?” Taryn asks.

“I think we’d better go find that girl from Ritchies.” Skylar says.

The girls decide to leave school, skipping the rest of the day. They head to Ritchies to see if they can find the girl from Taryn’s dream. When they get there, they don’t see her, but she must not have told anyone about what happened because nobody stopped the girls from going in. They went up to the clerk and described the girl from Taryn’s dream. They had to lie and tell the clerk that they were related to the girl just to get her phone number. But it worked.

2895550199: Hi, this is gonna sound crazy but I need ur help. My name is Taryn, and I tried to hurt u at Ritchies yesterday. I’m sorry about that but u need to understand that it wasn’t me. It has something to do with Rosalind King. Call me. Thx.

The girls waited. Minutes later, Taryn’s phone rang.

“It’s her.” Taryn says.

She answers the phone, “He-hello?”

“Is this Taryn?” Answers a female voice on the other line.

“Yes. What’s your name?”

“It’s Jayda. Can you come over?”

“What’s your address?” Taryn asks. “And I’m bringing my friend, the one who was with me at Ritchies.”

“Okay. It’s 12 The Boulevard, Foxdale. See you soon.”

The girls catch the bus to The Boulevard and walk to Jayda’s house from the stop. When they get there, Jayda answers the door. She invites the girls inside.

Jayda and Skylar sit on the couch and Taryn sits on a chair to the side. Jayda looks to be the same age but if she lives with her parents, they’re not home.

Jayda doesn’t waste a second. She turns to Taryn and asks, “What do you know about Roz King?”

Taryn begins to explain the dreams she was having and how ever since attacking Jayda at Ritchies she hasn’t been feeling like herself.

“Wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that you’re like, possessed or something?” Jayda asks in a frustrated voice.

“Well, how else do you explain this? I’m just trying to figure out why, if not because I’m possessed, am I having dreams about Roz and attacking people I’ve never met before while simultaneously giving you shit for “what you did”,” Taryn does air quotes, “to my parents?”

Jayda stares off somewhere for a minute. Taryn and Skylar look at each other while she thinks.

“Jayda, can you please tell us how you knew Rosalind?” Skylar asks.

“Well, I met her in grade nine. We instantly became best friends. We did everything together. But one day, I heard about an incident, I guess you could call it, at school where Roz had apparently been selling drugs to kids and splitting the profit with her parents. It was so messed up. I tried telling her what she was doing was wrong, but she wouldn’t listen. It seemed like that lifestyle was sort of sucking her in, and I didn’t want to be a part of it, so I told my parents. But then they called the cops, and like a day later CPS came and took Roz away, sent her parents to prison. Roz was crushed, but more, she was angry at me for telling on her.”

“What happened to her then?” Skylar asks.

“I don’t know, foster care, I think. She stopped showing up to school. But sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of scratching on my window, but when I’d get up to see what it was, nothing was there.”

Skylar listened intently; Taryn didn’t say anything.

“One day, we ran into each other on the sidewalk outside of Town Hall, she was in a hurry. I tried talking to her but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she just ran inside the building and up the stairs until she got to the roof. I followed her. The whole way up I heard fast footsteps behind me, like someone was chasing after us, or maybe Roz. When I got to the roof I flung open the door and jumped behind a wall to wait and see if someone came after me. I didn’t see Roz. A man came through the door. I watched him walk out onto the roof and approach the side of the building. He started talking to someone, and it wasn’t until then that I realized Roz had tried hiding from the man by hanging from the roof. I guess she thought he would leave when he couldn’t see her so she could pull herself back up. It didn’t happen that way.”

Skylar was hanging by a string now, “What happened?” She asks.

“The man stepped on her fingers until Roz let go of the building, and she fell. I heard everybody below screaming and crying, yelling for 911, and then the man turned around and ran back down the stairs. They never found him.”

As Jayda finished her story she teared up, Skylar felt her pain, but when she turned to look at Taryn, her sadness changed to fear.

Skylar watched as her best friend contorted into something supernatural. Her clothes tore, her face darkened, she grew two feet and her shoulder blades poked so far out of her back that it looked like Taryn’s skin would rip. Skylar covered her ears as Taryn opened her mouth and the cry of a banshee rang out so loud it was deafening.

Skylar fled, but the couch they were sitting on flipped from the force of Skylar’s flee to the front door. Jayda got stuck underneath it.

Taryn lunged for Jayda, sinking sharp, yellow nails into the skin atop her shoulders. Jayda screamed and Skylar broke for the door. She covered her ears once again as the sound of a predator ripping through the live body of its prey filled the room, followed by the smell of decay which came so immediately that Skylar knew whatever was happening behind her as she raced for the door, was something she would never forget.

#short story #creative writing #fiction #novelist #author in the making #author #writers of tumblr #paranormal #possession #reedsy #reedsy prompts #prompt #writing prompt #challenge accepted #like and follow #like and comment #aspiring writer

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angela-yuriko-smith · 1 year

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Weekly Calendar of Authortunities

Have you seen my newsletter? It’s gotten much better, to paraphrase Barney Stinson on How I Met Your Mother. It’s easy to get better when it went from nothing to something. It has taken me a decade to finally send a newsletter, but I wanted to wait until I had something worth sharing. Now I’m confident I do. One of my favorite jobs as an editorial assistant at a newspaper was keeping track of…

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84reedsy · 17 days

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Can i request a quick NSFW hc for Billy Gunn if you have time?

Randomized a prompt for this one: #34: You like it when I touch you?

You tried to ignore him. But when he’s like a magnet for your gaze, you lose every time. Billy has never not been appealing to you, no matter how ridiculous the gimmick. He reveled in teasing you which only stoked the desire you felt that you desperately tried to keep buried below the surface. His audacity only increased. Showing off his new fluorescent trunks with lip prints all over them, one strategically placed at the top of where his bulge rested.

“They’re yours,” He smirked, catching you glancing at the tight, neon trunks as he fixed his blonde hair into a tight half-pony tail.

“What?” You were flustered when you were caught looking, which was more and more frequent lately, “What’s mine?”

“The lips,” He smirked more devilishly now, “I had your lip print copied and put it,” He rubbed his hand over the red lips, “right here,”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. Kissing his cheek in the ring had never had such consequences before, it was part of your job. He was making torturing you part of his.

--------------------------------------------------------

After his match, its even harder to keep your eyes off his body, flushed with adrenaline and the sheen of sweat makes every muscle glimmer. The scent of his masculinity makes you want to make bad choices. He can tell you’re aching for him, raking a hand through his damp blonde hair as he stalks you into a corner.

“Why do you always fight it so much?” Billy asks, looking you up and down with a ravenous hunger in his eyes and cocky smirk on his lips “When you know how good it feels,”

“Because of that ego…it’s big enough for the both of us,” You quip back, knowing your stalling tactics are useless. You’re already watching his hands, desperate to feel them. He notices, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and the subtle brush of his fingertips against your ear makes you gasp quietly.

He trails his fingers, barely touching you as they slide down your neck. You know a trail of goosebumps follow the path of his touch as your body responds to him. He still descends, tracing the curve of your breast. You can’t stop him as his hand sneaks up your shirt and though you fully expect it, the rough way he palms your breast still makes you groan.

“You like it when I touch you?” Billy’s thumb flicks past the peak of your nipple, “Is that why you don’t stop me?” the playfulness in his tone coupled with his confidence is nearly infuriating, but as his hand slips lower now, sneaking into the waistband of your pants, you know you won’t be able to deny that in also inflames your lust for him.

“Oh you do like it,” He says with as much confidence, but in an animalistic growl as his fingers slip between your legs and test the evidence of your arousal. As his fingers invade your sex, your head leans back against the wall and you give in to his carnal persuasion.

You can never resist Billy Gunn - and he knows it.

#reedsy answers asks #Billy Gunn #smut prompts #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling #bad ass billy gunn #wwf #wwe #aew

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slitheringshadow · 9 months

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I wrote a new short story and entered it in a contest. They shortlist the ones most read and most liked, so like…if you’d be interested in reading, and liking (if you enjoy it of course), imma just drop this here. I’m also very much open to critiques.

#short story #short fiction #fiction #writing #writers on tumblr #writers #writerscommunity #writerslife #writing prompt #writing contest #writer things #writerscorner #writing feedback #reedsy #reading #lost #lost girl

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scribble-scrabbles · 5 days

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Writing Prompt - A Blind Date

My phone buzzed on the comforter beside me. I shot it a glare, hoping to frighten it into silence, then curled tighter under my blanket and refocused on my latest true crime drama obsession. A few moments passed and I relaxed, thankful for the reprieve. It was my only day off between two long stretches in the Emergency Department, and I would be damned if I spoke to anyone today. In fact, I may not even leave this bed.

Bzzt bzzt. My phone echoed a few minutes later.

I studiously ignored it again. Another minute passed.

Bzzt bzzt. A few second pause. Bzzt bzzt. Followed nearly instantly by another buzz. I growled and reached for it.

“This had better be good.” I told the tiny, plastic monster.

An alert for four unread text messages from Val Spencer, my best friend from work, sat on my home screen. The phone buzzed once more in my hands, bumping the total up to five. I rolled my eyes as I flicked through the text messages.

Hey, are u up?

I’m kind of in a bind and I need your help.

Are you ignoring me?

Bitch?

It will be fun!

I snorted and considered ignoring her further, but the phone buzzed with a call this time.

“Go away.” I groaned in greeting.

“Oh shut up, you don’t mean that.” Val said, using her perky voice. “Have you been ignoring me?”

“Yes.”

“Bitch!”

“Yes, now you’re mad at me and you’re going to leave me alone right?”

“Yeah absolutely not, I need you.”

“No one needs me today.”

“Look, I know you just worked a bunch in a row but…” Val trailed off, obviously knowing this was going to be a hard sell.

“And you know I work a bunch more starting tomorrow….” I mimicked her tone.

“I know, I know, and I will owe you a massive favor.” Val said hastily.

“Pretty sure you already owe me one or two of those.”

“Pretty sure that goes both ways, sister.” She snarked. “Listen, Tyler and I had a double date planned tonight with his best friend and Nikki backed out on me last minute.”

“Absolutely not.” I nearly hung up the phone right there.

“But it’s for a concert I have been dying to see for months! She got Covid, it’s not like I can tell her to suck it up.”

“Tell someone else to suck it up, Valencia.” I emphasized her full name to let her know I was serious. “ I literally cannot. I don’t think I can even force myself out of bed. I just pulled three twelve-hour shifts and yesterday was absolute hell. I’m staring down four more on the other side of today, and I just can’t.” “Mikayla Reynolds, I need you! If I can’t get anyone else to come on this date then Tyler is making me cancel the whole thing.” Her voice was earnest now. “I have been wanting to see these guys in concert for as long as I can remember and this is the first time they have ever come close to this shit-hole town. The only reason Ty agreed to go was so we could try to fix up his friend, and if I don’t find someone he’s going to refuse to go at all. I’ve called six other people already this morning, and you’re my last hope.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Please?”

The earnest need in her tone finally cracked me.

“Where am I going, when do I need to be there, and what am I wearing?” I sighed, dramatically. Val squealed in delight and started giving me instructions.

We were meeting at 6 at a restaurant a few blocks away from the theater where the band was playing downtown. It was a typical rock concert and the restaurant was casual enough, so at least I wouldn’t have to try and be fancy. I swung my legs off the bed and then sat for a moment with my head in my hands. I hadn’t been exaggerating, I was absolutely bushed both mentally and physically. Yesterday had been critical patient after critical patient, and absolutely nothing had gone my way. We had lost a young patient, which was always hard on the entire department, but I had also had to deliver some really bad news to several really nice people over the past few days. The level of bad juju had been substantially greater than normal, and it had taken a toll. I needed the mental break and the emotional break. But, I supposed I just had to put on my armor for one more day and pack the exhaustion away for another day.

Still, it took a few moments to shift my mindset from “borderline panic attack” to “let’s just get through this” - which was longer than I typically needed to ground myself. I tried not to think about the last few days or the days to come, and instead focused on the possibility of actually having fun, which felt improbable but perhaps not impossible.

“So much for a relaxing day to recharge.” I grumbled, putting my phone on the nightstand - and got to work.

*****************************

At 5:45, I pulled into a parking deck about halfway between the restaurant and the concert venue. I checked my makeup quickly in the rearview mirror, reapplying some light lip gloss before getting out and gathering my purse and texting Val that I had parked.. I walked the two blocks to the restaurant, which turned out to be somewhere between an actual restaurant and a sports bar. At least it was casual.

Val met me at the door with an enormous hug. I was happy to see we had dressed similarly in jeans, a logo tee, and a light jacket against the fall breeze. Her blonde hair was flowing in ringlets down her back, and I tried not to get my fingers tangled in the long stands as I extricated myself from her grasp.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She chanted. “I promise, I’ll make this up to you.”

“Doubtful.” I grumbled. “But, it’s good to see you happy.”

“Well, let’s see how you like Jake, shall we?” Val said with a wicked glint in her eyes that made me wonder if she really had called six other people before me. She slid her arm through mine and began leading me towards the back of the restaurant. “You know I don’t like anybody but you, kid.” I smirked at her and patted her hand on my arm.

“Alright, Mikah, meet Jake, Ty’s best friend from college. He’s a computer-something at the engineering firm where Ty works.” Val had stopped in front of a dimly lit table in the back corner of the restaurant. She gestured at a vaguely masculine looking figure that was mostly hidden in the shadows of the table. “Jake, meet Mikah, my best friend and the best damn physician assistant in our emergency department.”

The figure stood then, extending his hand and stepping into the light so that his features were finally illuminated. My breath caught in my chest as I took in his tawny hair, stylish black plastic glasses, and soulful brown eyes. Eyes that were uncomfortably familiar, and looked equally startled to see me. I stared at him for a beat too long before recovering and taking his hand to shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I said, hating the strain in my voice. Val nudged me with her elbow and smiled reassuringly, taking my moment of pause to mean attraction and not recognition. He gestured to the seat beside him and I joined him in the shadows, which I welcomed in the moment. As we sat, he squeezed my arm. When I glanced at him he shook his head ever so slightly, and I took his meaning immediately. They don’t know.

My heart slammed in my chest as the last few days came rushing back. My brain froze for a few moments, replaying the last time I had seen him with his jaw set determinedly in the ER, masking any emotion that may have tried to surface. I was mentally stuck in that last conversation, paralyzed with what to do now that a person I never should have seen again was suddenly here. What had it been, two days ago? Three? They all ran together after a while.

He squeezed my arm again, snapping me back to the present. My mind raced, catching up to the present and realizing all over again that he hadn’t told anyone he had been to the ER, much less what he had learned. My heart ached and a rush of emotion suddenly lodged in my throat. He was here and also didn’t want to be - didn’t need to be - and he was begging me to play this cool. I looked back at him, barely able to make out his eyes and gave him a quick nod of understanding. I flipped my arm over and gripped his from beneath and returned the squeeze, before dropping it. Your secret is safe with me.

Technically, his secret had to be safe with me. He had been my patient, and it would be breaking a federal law for me to say anything.

But, then it struck me, shouldn’t his friends know so they could be there for him in the coming days and weeks? Didn’t I also have an obligation to Val and Ty?

I glanced back at him and saw his eyes still on me. My vision had adjusted some and I could now make out the tight crease of his brows and set of his jaw. He was terrified and I alone had the power to put him out of his misery.

“Earth to Mikah.” Val kicked me underneath the table, snapping me back to the moment. I looked across the table and was relieved to see that the shadows obscured most of her and Ty’s faces. I hoped that meant ours were as well. “Are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“Do I ever listen to a word you say?” I snarked, returning her kick playfully.

“Well, that’s true.” “Besides, I’m exhausted and you drug me out into public anyway.” I grumbled. “I’m sorry, Jake, I may not be the best companion tonight.”

“Hey, anybody who gives it back to Val is already top marks in my book.” He said, all traces of worry removed from his brow.

“Yeah, we’ll get along fine then.”

“Anyway, what were you saying, bossypants?” I returned to Val. “I was asking if you knew anything about this band.”

“Of course I know this band, I play them in the doc box all the time. It’s one of Johnson’s favorite playlists.” I said, referring to the dictation area where I sat with an attending physician during our shifts. It was a little removed from the nursing station, which allowed us to play music and have more discreet conversations without being overheard by patients. Johnson was one of our younger attendings who worked way too many hours and ran on caffeine and sarcasm - which basically made him my twin.

“Oh God, you don’t think he’s coming do you?” Val said, sounding stricken.

“Pretty sure he’s working.”

“Oh thank God.” She said with a sigh of relief. “What’s so bad about him?” Jake asked.

“He’s an asshole.” Val said.

“He’s just surly.” I defended him. “He’s really not bad one-on-one. I think he might be fun at a concert.”

“Well, I’m glad we don’t have to find out tonight.” “Do we have to talk about y’alls work?” Ty grumbled. “Do we have anything else to talk about?” I quipped. Ty was not my favorite person, but I tolerated him because Val loved him and he was good to her.

“We could talk about our work.” Jake suggested. “No thanks, I don’t want to take a nap and miss the concert.” Val laughed.

“Same.” Ty said. “So, Jake, why don’t you tell Mikah a little more about yourself.”

“You don’t have to drive the conversation, Ty, this isn’t a dating show.” Val scoffed. “We can talk about whatever we want.”

“We could always talk about all the ways Ty is an asshole. That’s always fun.” I said, gleefully.

Unfortunately, Ty was rescued by the arrival of our waitress. “Is this everybody?” She asked.

“Yes.” Said Val and Ty in unison. “Okay great! My name’s Jess and I’ll be serving you tonight. What can I get you guys to drink?” “Water.” I said. “Can you tell me what’s on tap?” Ty asked, and I stopped paying attention to the conversation after that. I glanced at Jake out of the corner of my eye and saw him studying the menu. His finger tapped restlessly against the plastic and I could see his knee bouncing just a little bit, but his face was a mask of indifference. He was definitely as nervous as I felt. I took a breath and forced my own leg to still. While it was difficult to see details in the low lighting, I noted the pallor of his skin and the slightly increased rate of breathing. I wondered if Val had noticed, but I doubted anyone would at this stage, unless they knew to look.

My mind whirled back to the moment I saw the results of his CT scan. My heart dropped and I had retreated to the “panic room” part of my brain, where I only go when it’s bad. I’m not allowed to feel anything in there, so all of my decisions become purely clinical. I cannot care for a patient if my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces like a normal human - none of us can in emergency medicine. If we let ourselves feel everything we should feel for every single patient, we couldn’t function. All of that hurt and pain had to go somewhere. Still, it was hard to do, especially with someone my own age.

I had made a few phone calls, ensuring there was a plan of action - either admitting him to the hospital or rapid follow up after discharge. No one would admit him, but they did agree to follow up the next day in their office. I had taken a few moments in the empty dictation room to organize my thoughts and steel myself before going in to deliver the news. “I know what’s wrong with you.” I had said, taking a seat next to the bed. Jake was sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone, but utterly alone, as he had been throughout the entire visit. When I spoke, he must have sensed my demeanor, because he immediately put down the phone and gave me all of his attention. “Well, that’s good.” He said, trying for some levity. “I already have a follow up arranged for you, and I’ve made sure it’s written down for you so you know where to go and when.” I said, not wanting to dodge the subject, but knowing that once I said it, he wouldn’t remember anything after the diagnosis. I had to get that in first, or else risk him forgetting. “What is it?” He asked, his hands now fidgeting in his lap. I took one last deep breath. “There’s a large tumor in your colon.” I said, voice shaking just a little bit. “It’s very concerning for cancer.” My voice steadied after a beat. “There are also several spots on your liver that are very concerning.”

His hands fell still, and I saw his eyes glass over just a little bit as he took it in. His mind was retreating, panic was threatening to set in, and I had to get in the rest while he could understand it.

“I have a follow up scheduled with oncology tomorrow morning at 9 am. I’m sorry, I tried for today but they were booked. I also have a follow up scheduled with gastroenterology the next day, and the general surgery the day after that. It’s all written down for you, including phone numbers and addresses. Make sure you give them to whoever is going to be helping you, so they can help you keep up with it all.”

He nodded, numbly. I knew I had already lost him, but I had to say the rest. “Try to get a planner and a binder so you can keep all the appointments and follow ups in one place. It’s also handy to have all of your paperwork printed and with you, just in case the doctors aren’t talking. I printed out your labs and imaging reports from today and put them with your paperwork, so you can have them. It’s a whole lot of information very quickly, and having it printed to help you remember is critical so you don’t miss appointments and so you can be sure you get everything you need.” I paused, and he nodded again. “Is there someone I can call for you?” I asked, tentatively.

“Um, no.” He shook himself a little, coming out of his stupor just a little. “No, that’s not necessary.”

I hesitated a few moments, giving him some time to think. “I have to go get the rest of your paperwork together. I know this is alot right now, so I will come back in a few minutes to answer any questions that I can. I’m not an oncologist, so I may not be able to answer all of your questions, but I will do my best. Just know that whatever the oncologist says tomorrow is probably more accurate than anything I tell you today.”

I sat with him in silence for a few moments as he stared at nothing, eyes unfocused. I knew that look, and I hated it when I had caused it. “I’m so sorry.” I said, and heard the wobble come into my voice just a little bit. I slammed shut the cracks in the panic room in my mind, caging the sorrow before it could leak out and make a mess of everything. “I wish I had better news.” I wanted to tell him that he was young and healthy and give him some sort of hope, but I also didn’t want to lie to him. Metastatic colon cancer at 38 was bad news, no matter how healthy they were otherwise.

I stood up and moved to leave the room. “I will be back in a few minutes. Please let us know if we can do anything for you in the meantime.”

I left the room to find his nurse hovering outside his door. She started following me back to the doc box on the other end of the department. “Fuck.” said Katie. “Just…” she paused, then said with more emphasis. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” I said, twisting my lips into a sad smile. “Yeah, it’s bad.” I sat in my chair and put my hands over my head. “It’s really bad.” “What stage?” She asked, chewing on a fingernail. “Optimistically? Stage 3.” I said with a sigh. “But, realistically, probably stage 4.”

“So he’s gonna die.” She said flatly.

“We’re all gonna die eventually, Katie.” I said, smirking but rapidly sobering. “But yes, he’s probably dying more quickly than he should.”

“Fuck.” She said again. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the only word for it.”

“Only word for what?” asked Dr. Williams, strolling in with a chart in hand and taking his seat next to me. “My 38-year-old with stage 3 or 4 colon cancer.” I said with a sigh, twirling my chair back to my computer. He put down the chart and turned to stare at me somberly.

“Fuck.” He said.

“See?!” Katie said, gleefully, then sobered. “So what’s the plan?”

“I have to finish his discharge paperwork, but I have all of his follow ups scheduled for the next three days.” I said, handing her a pile of paperwork with a note on the top that listed times, dates, phone numbers, and addresses of the clinics he needed to visit. “When I finish, I’m going to go back in and see if he has any questions.” “How did he take it?” She asked.

“Stoically.” I said, honestly. “He just stared off into space. I asked if we could call anyone for him and he said no. He’s been alone this whole time too, unless you saw someone I didn’t.” She shook her head in response. “Well, then I guess he’s taking it alone.”

“He’s going to need someone to help him.” Williams said, alreadying clicking away on his computer.

“Hopefully he has someone and they just couldn’t be here today.” I said with a shrug. I couldn’t let myself worry about that. Except now, it seemed, I did have to worry about that. Because he sat beside me now, anxious and probably overwhelmed. I bet he hadn’t told anyone about anything yet, and so he was taking all of this alone. The emotions that I had kept in the panic box pounded at the door, but I fought them back down. I still had three more shifts to get through before I could let them out. I couldn’t risk an emotional melt-down in the meanwhile. I needed to speak to him alone, soon. I glanced around the restaurant, looking for an excuse. I saw a sign for the restrooms pointing in the opposite direction from our table and thought that was as good of an excuse as any. I tried to make eye contact with Jake, but he was very purposefully ignoring me, looking at the menu that he was now gripping with white knuckles. I tapped his foot under the table and cleared my throat. Val and Ty stopped talking to look at me. Jake turned to look at me. “I’m going to run to the bathroom.” I said, scooting out from my chair and gesturing to the sign.

I was walking away when I heard Jake say, “Actually, I think I need to go too.”

Subtle, kid. Real subtle. I thought.

I followed the signs around a corner and into a narrow corridor that passed around the kitchen. We would be well hidden back there. I only had to wait a moment until Jake found me. As he rounded the corner, I was struck by how young he looked and how healthy, despite being somewhat pale. The sharp outline of his glasses accentuated his deep brown eyes, which I realized had some small flecks of green in them, as he grew near.

“Jesus Christ, I am so sorry.” I said in a rush, as soon as he was within ear shot. “I can make an excuse and get out of here as soon as possible. I know I am the last person on the planet you want to see again.”

He stopped and cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you again?” He seemed genuinely confused, and for a moment I was afraid I had confused him with another patient.

“Um,” I was taken aback. “Well, I don’t think I’d want to see the person who told me I have…” I looked around quickly and dropped my voice to a whisper, “cancer.”

“It’s not like it’s your fault.” He said, leaning back against the wall across from me. “You just happened to be the one that found it.”

“Oh.” I stammered, then recovered. “You just looked like a deer in the headlights when you saw me.” “I could say the same about you.” He countered. I shrugged. We were both quiet for a moment, before he said in a voice so soft it was difficult to hear, “Nobody knows but you.”

I stared at him for a moment. “Wait, nobody as in ‘not a single person’ or nobody as in not Val and Ty?”

“Nobody as in nobody.” He said, returning my stare. “And I intend to keep it that way.”

“What?!” My question turned into more of a squawk.

“Nobody needs to know. This is my problem. I don’t want to bring anybody else down with it.”

“You don’t want to…”I began, then shut my mouth. Where did I even begin here? “Jake, this is a lot. You can’t hide this from everyone forever.” I paused again, and tried to choose my next words carefully. He must be in denial. “You don’t need to do this alone.”

“But, I do.”

“No, I mean, you can’t do this alone. It’s too much for any one person. You need a team, a support system. Didn’t oncology talk about this?” I asked, flabbergasted. “They did, and I told them I would think about it.” He held up a hand before I could speak again. “But this is my fight and I get to choose who I tell and when.” I paused and really looked at him then. His jaw was set, muscles twitching and his hands were fists at his sides. It struck me then that this was a type of coping mechanism. Everything that happened here was out of his control - except this. And now I was here to threaten taking that control away even further. I deflated.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I said, meeting his eyes. “I promise.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “Thank you.”

“We should get back before they get more suspicious.” I said. “Val is already going to know something is up, so I’ll just tell her you and I had met at a party for my ex boyfriend a few years ago.”

“Yeah, except I don’t really do parties.”

“Well shit, me neither.” There was another beat of silence. “Any ideas?”

He crossed his arms across his chest and tapped his finger on his watch, thinking.

“How about a half truth?” He finally said. I cocked an eyebrow at him. “As in, I met you in the hospital a few days ago when I was there with my sick aunt.”

“Yeah, but then Val is going to pepper you with questions about your aunt.”

“Well, I actually have a sick aunt, so that should be easy to answer.”

“Oh.” I paused, then nodded. “That…could actually work.”

He smirked at me then, and it struck me that he was actually quite handsome. That turn of his lips caused the corner of his eyes to crinkle, and his eyes sparked with mischief. “I’m good at stories.” He said with a shrug. “You mean you’re a good liar?” I quipped, smirking back. “Guess I had better watch out then.”

“I don’t make a habit of it, if that’s what you mean. But when I do lie, I know how to be convincing.” We turned and started to walk back to the table together. There was no sense in hiding that we knew each other. But before we cleared the corridor, I caught his arm and pulled him to stop.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked, searching his eyes. “Because I really don’t mind leaving. I get it.”

“No.” He said, and actually smiled at me, the crinkle returning to his eyes. “No, I’m honestly kind of relieved to have someone who knows.” The smile faded. “I guess that means I’m not completely alone.”

I smiled then. “No, I guess you’re not.”

And with that we returned to our table to begin our blind date.

#writing prompts #creative writing #fiction #reedsy #reedsywritingprompts #short stories #writers

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hyliandude · 3 months

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SHINOMOTCHI

by: Franco Lopez

Gas tank? Full.

Laptop? Check.

Chargers? Check.

Homework? Eh. I won’t do it even if I bring it, and it won’t bump my grades up even if I do it.

Cigarettes? No, let’s leverage the long weekend to cut back. Well – just one for the drive. Anything harder will have to wait. The thought of mom finding out alone makes nauseous.

Laundry? Check.

Everything looks ready to go. I’m confident I can beat the sun out if I skip breakfast to maximize my time at home. Nothing on campus tastes quite like mom’s cooking. Maybe if I drive with the windows down, I’ll be able to follow the smell home without assistance from the GPS – she is making my favorite. What a remarkably silly thought. Aside from the meals, I think sleeping in a newly converted home gym beats sharing a dorm room with noisy acquaintances. Everyone is so loud.

Mom has my old belongings set aside in boxes on my old bed, but she promised not to sell anything without checking in with me first. I’m hoping the drive home will be dull, so it lets my mind wander. I was fine with being an undeclared major for the first three semesters, but that novelty is running out, and I need something to tether to or I’ll end up blowing the scholarships. No – I said this would be a weekend to unwind and take a step back. I’ll decide those things once I’m back. Mom can’t know.

The drive back would always revert my brain to how I used to perceive things. It’s been months, so things back in my hometown don’t quite look or smell like I remember, but each increasingly familiar street awakens a layer of my dormant youth. I’d forget the worries of tuition, work schedules, rent, projects, scholarships, extra-credit, and all the other headaches that come with academia. It’s all so noisy. I hope I can find silence back home.

There’s the post office, the remodeled fast-food joint, a new subdivision I don’t recognize, and the driveway up to my childhood suburban oasis. My friends always say they dread going home for long holidays now, but I can’t help disagreeing. There’s a guilty pleasure in returning to my worry-free self. The future can wait as long as I remain here.

I held back tears hugging my mom. It’d been months fending for myself in the jungle, and the home smelled like cinnamon apple candles and dinosaur chicken nuggets (I never said my favorite meal was anything fancy). My room was a pile of boxes and unassembled workout equipment. My bed still smelled like the lingering remnants of high school. It was even more comfortable than I remember. I suppose that’s what sleeping on a sponge for months does to the soul. I could feel my body shutting down as I threw myself on to the plush comforter. My shoulders turned into spaghetti and everything I’d learned in school fled my body with every warm and prolonged exhale. I was safe again. In my little box, surrounded by towers of cardboard boxes. It was a throne that had remained dusty for too long. Away from the necessary machinations of the world. The bureaucracy. The exhausting social ploys we follow to make a living or ascend in this world. It was a snake eat snake world, and I was the brightest mouse.

I unpacked quickly and began rearranging the confines of the castle to my liking in peace and silence. I moved “Kitchenware for sale” off to the side table, “Clothes for sale” near the door leading to my bathroom, and “Old toys for sale?” on to the bed. Something inside was beeping. The box was taped shut for protection, but curiosity got the better of me and I clawed the lid off to inspect the types of curiosities that might be hiding in it. Another dormant layer of youth was abruptly jolted awake as the musty cardboard flaps exploded with dust and the smell of (somehow) damp plastic and felt. Old teddy bears and plushies, action figures with missing arms or accessories, my old 90’s translucent plastic fake phones and gaming consoles, a few game cartridges (that could probably sell for a good price if I found their original boxes), a binder of collectible trading cards, and the source of the faint beeping– a little toy electronic keychain pet, the kind that were all the rage in the late 90’s, but one I don’t recall ever owning. “Shinomotchi” was printed on its plastic hull. This must’ve been a knock-off that my mom picked up at the mall or something because that is NOT the brand name for these little guys and one I’d not heard of before. Regardless, the little guy was still going! There’s no shut off switch to these things, but I’d assumed the battery would have given up after almost 20 years. It has a sad face in its thought bubble, and the little amorphous critter was moving slowly back and forth across the screen, surprisingly still beeping for food and water. The interface only had three buttons and a small selection of items to choose from on the main screen. These included food, bath, and play. It took me less than a minute to acquaint myself with how they functioned. Little black, pixelated spots of excrement littered the screen. These were all cleared with the bath function. The little skulls over the hunger bar were cleared with the food function, and the sad face eventually went away with extended uses of the toy function.

Throughout the weekend, the critter would beep, and I’d have to stop to feed or clean up after its messes. For the most part, it would mind its own business, wandering around the screen without beeping or doing much of anything in its comfortable little walls. I discovered it had little mini games – simple mazes or collecting games that would cheer it up even more. My mom just smiled when she’d catch me fiddling with it. She doesn’t recall purchasing it either, but she said she hadn’t seen me that happy in a few years.

The beeps would come and go in a tune that decorated the weekend air. I’d catch myself running out of the shower to feed it or skipping meals to take it out on virtual walks. At night, the beeps would ring in my dreams to the point where I’d just stay awake because it would be easier to take care of the plastic child I’d neglected for so many years than to be interrupted halfway into the REM cycle. At the tail end of the weekend, I had as much of a tough time keeping my eyes open as I did keeping them closed. The beeps were intelligible now, and much more complex than I, or anyone else, could’ve thought. It would call out to me by name. “Come feed me” it would say, in a hoarse, 8-bit voice. “Come clean up after me” it would bellow out at random intervals throughout the day. “Come play with me” it would ring, purposefully guilting me into hour long bouts of sorting virtual berries or throwing pixel balls back and forth.

I convinced my mom that finals would all be virtual this year. She was excited of course, that her only child would be staying with her longer, but I could see the twinge of hesitation whenever I reached for the buttons of the Shinomotchi.

“Why don’t you set that down for a bit honey,” she’d say.

“Don’t listen to her – she’s the one that you conspired with to lock me away” it would say back in its retro pings of fear and anger.

“Can I have a smoke now?” I’d ask but would always be met with a fervent “No.”

After several more months my mom stopped asking questions about school or work. My school inbox had grown to a staggering all time high. I did not have it in me to look at texts or calls. My voicemail was a graveyard of concerned, pixelated voices, all asking for help, time, or money. Shinomotchi and I have decided to place all those thoughts and worries in a cardboard box, and tape them shut. I could no longer see the critter in its plastic hull. In fact, I no longer held it. I could not see or feel it. I could only hear it in the back of my mind. I’d see its face outside the window panes of my room and nothing else beyond it. No light shone in or out anymore.

“May I go outside?” I’d ask politely. No answer. Sometimes it would go weeks without answering. We’d revel in a crossword puzzle it would give me, and then take them away.

“May I have some food, please?” No answer. For days even. When my stomach couldn’t bare it any longer it’d toss me a simple sandwich. Tasteless, yet delicious.

My room door was locked from the outside. Its walls now a translucent plastic. No friends, no family. Just darkness and musty air as I pleaded for food, baths, and play time with the true king of the cardboard castle.

“Thank you, Shinomotchi, for allowing me to remain within the confines of your majestic fortress” I said, with reverence for my virtual master, and a growing disdain for my future and responsibilities. No answer.

The faint sound of wrapping tape echoed outside of the plastic walls, and a deep cowl of comforting darkness, and the silence I’d been longing for, finally shrouded my room.

#short story #reedsy #writing #writing prompt #retro #shinomotchi #tamagotchi #technology #fiction #nostalgia #reedsy writing contest #author #speculative #mystery #horror #thriller

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realitaetsprothese · 5 months

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The B-SAC

"Mammon!" Satans voice thundered through the soot coated halls. A stone wall crumbled and collapsed somewhere. The cries of some unlucky souls were cut off when they were crushed. One Mississppi, two Mississippi, the cries flared up again. Death has no persistance in hell. A droning sound emerged from the back of the halls, visceral like pulsing blood in a choking man's ears. Satan squinted. A shadow formed in the corner of the atrium, visible only because it was even darker than the darkness surrounding it.

Arches and pillars cracked with every blast of the creatures's wings.

Satan rolled his eyes. So dramatic. "Could you be bothered to turn up the haste a little bit." Seconds later the giant creature that was Mammon landed in front of the the Ruler of Demons, God of this Age, and he bowed and spoke: "Hail Satan. You demanded my presence for fulfilling your evil deeds. You call, I shall follow. How can I be of servi..." "Do you know which day it is?" Mammon looked up in surprise. "Indeed. It's Friday, Satan. I know this because, uhm, it is my day off. The one day I look forward to every week."

"Ah, touching. Friday, huh. Any special Friday? Beige Friday maybe? Or green Friday? Red? Blue? IS IT BLUE FRIDAY, MAMMON?" Satan could be a little aggressive sometimes, even for hell standards. Mammon straightened and thereby punched a hole in the high ceiling with his horns. His attempt to remain graceful was sabotaged by stones raining in his face. He rubbed his eye. "Well, Satan, the only coloured Friday I know is Black Friday, so ..."

Satan did a slow clap. "And black Friday it is! Marvellous! And can you guess why I'm absolutely furious about this fact right now?" Because you are the lord of wrath and have very poor anger management, Mammon thought. What he said was: "Since it's black Friday it might have something to do with shopping?"

Satan took a deep breath. "Listen, Mammon. Do you, by any chance, recall our last congregation. The B-SAC one." He did. Whatever B-SAC was, he remembered the congregation. Admittedly, he had been a little occupied with counting and recounting the souls he had earned the other day. A plane full of businessmen had crashed and provided him, the Prince of Greed, with 189 fresh insatiable souls. In hindsight, slowly, vaguely, he remembered the small flipchart next to Satan. The graph that was displayed had looked like a very steep cliff. Downward trend, not upward. He remembered Satan ranting about heavy declines in soul acquisitions, people not selling their souls anymore, but rather leggings and essential oils and coaching programs in pyramid schemes and so on. "Humans dying and going to hell are good and nice, but our strongest ressources are souls that offer themselves deliberately. Or, well, are offered. But since human sacrifice has become scarce in modern times, we are facing a lack of sources." Satan had tapped his pencil against the lowest point of the chart-cliff. "Which means we have to adjust. Go with the Zeitgeist. There are 7 deadly sins, and all of them are still trending. We just have to exploit each of them at the right time. Well, what is the right time, you ask? There is a time for each of them in the human calendar, I tell you. For each of you, actually. I see 7 Princes of Decay and Terror, which means 7 magnificent opportunities. So, due to upcoming events, let's start with the amazing sin of Greed, and therefore with you, dear Mammon. You know that greed is the impetus of the human race. 45 % of all the souls come here because they could never get enough in life."

A meaningful pause had set in. Here, Mammon remembered, he had leaned back and looked around, nodding in search of approval. Nobody reacted, all eyes were glassy again. So he fell back into his calculations, slightly disappointed. That's when his memory got too foggy. That had probably also been the part where his role for Black Friday was coming into play.

Satan was still staring at him. Mammon cleared his throat. "So, what I remember is that greed ist the greatest sin of our time and, uh, Black Friday is coming? Has come, actually. Since it's today." Now Satan was massaging his temples. "Oh!" Mammon exclaimed. "And, uh, it is a great opportunity for people who would sell their souls for stuff?"

Satan let his fingers sink from his tortured temples. "This is absolutely right. This is exactly what I was hoping to achieve today. What I told all of you months in advance. And especially you, Mammon. Especially you, the Lord of Greed. You were my speck of hope for the Black Friday Soul Acquisition Campaign. The B-SAC should have been your baby." Now he sounded disappointed, his gaze shifted into the distance, whereas Mammon felt weirdly guilty. Feelings that didn't really work in hell.

However, B-SAC rang a bell somewhere. Yes! Mammons face lightened up. "Belphegor!" he yelped. Satan shot him a glance. "Belphegor?" "Yes! I had trouble listening, because honestly, who can listen to the Prince of Sloth for more than 20 seconds, but I'm quite sure I heard him saying something about having a great idea for B-SAC. I just guess I, uhm, didn't know what he meant with that back then ..." "Wait, stop. The Prince of Sloth has taken charge of the Black Friday Soul Acquisition Campaign? Alone?" "Well, everyone else was busy, there was a lot to do, the renovations around here ..." Another pillar broke down when Satans fist landed in it. Mammon eyed it grievously. Satan stared at him, his fist still in midair. "What did Belphegor do?"

In this moment, his phone rang. Satan fumbled it out of one of his many tunic layers and stared at the display. Mammon stared, too. "This is a New York number.", he said. Satan nodded. He pressed the small green button and cleared his throat. "Uhm yes? It's Satan?" The connection was quite miserable due to the fact that between the phone and the next cell tower lay roughly 15 kilometers of stone, lava and earth metals. The voice at the other end sounded young, bright and surprised. "Oh my god. I ...n't expect this to ... ... real number. You sound exac.. ... I imagined. I'm a hu... fan!" "Okay?" Satan got a little self conscious. "Who are you? How did you get my number?" A surprised pause. "Well, it ... very easy to find. Behi ... ... supermarket checkout at Target, 255 Greenw... Street, New York. At ... ...ost and found board."

Satans eyes started to burn. Literally. He let the phone sink and turned to Mammon. "Belphegor put my number on a lost and found board at Target? The private contact of the Ruler of Hell was published in a supermarket?" Mammon shrugged. "Maybe it's not the worst idea. Being close to your target group. Ehehehehe. Target group." Satan was not amused. He took the phone again, straightened and lowered his voice by an octave. "Okay, that's good. I, er, wanted you to find it there. So. Are you planning to sell your soul to the Almighty Demon, Destroyer of Worlds, Father of Darkness?" The voice laughed, delighted. "Absolutely! The Black Fri... offer you made is ...prisingly generous. 2 wishes inst... ... one for only half an eterni... in hell? I'm in!" Satan and Mammon shared glances. "Uh, I know. I am very generous actually. That's the secret of my popularity.", Satan growled and looked very satisfied. "Well then. I will send you a contract you shall sign with your own blood. No other blood, that doesn't work and usually brings some unsavory side effects." The voice was pure excitement now. "Understood! How long will it ... oh, it's here. And it's burning my tablecloth, one sec... Okay. Just let me ... the knife real quick. Ooookay, ouch, tha... should do, quite a lot of bloo... actually, well, the tableclo... is busted anyway, aaaand done. How do I send it back ... you? Ah, it's gone."

Satan and Mammon listened silently. Seconds later, a stack of roughly 29 pages appeared in a whirl of flames in the air. Satan mumbled "It's here, let me call you back in a minute" into the phone and hung up. Mammon took the first page and scanned it over. "Arnold Munzinger, 28, born in Cologne, Germany, moved to New York 3 years ago to study theology after quitting his job as a teacher due to several "mean pupils incidents". No further explanation. Wishes for a pair of Yeezy Desert Boots, ew, and the Apocalypse. Now. Epicentre Cologne." Mammon glanced at Satan. "Well, it is a little too early for the Apocalypse, isn't it?" Satan nodded. "Would tear us all to bits and pieces", he grumbled. "We'd need at least six times the number of evil souls and demons we currently have to even remotely consider winning the war against Heaven. Luckily, this is all ruled out in the Terms and Conditions. Apocalypse, Peace on Earth, Coming of the Messiah ... that's why this contract is so damn extensive. People have a lot of stupid ideas. Joke's on Arnold, then. Everything that's precluded in the T and C's is automatically eliminated from the contract. So, only an ugly pair of boots for the poor guy." He nodded approvingly. "I'd never thought Belphegor could come up with something like that. Half an eternity, ha. I'm surprised he thought of the small print."

And with that, he pressed his hoof next to Arnolds insignia. The page smoldered and blazed, shot up in the air, turned to ashes, formed a pentagram for two seconds and at last found its way to the wall behind Satan, where it settled in dark red letters. Satan nodded, pleased. "Back to work, then. Who knows, maybe the Target advertisement wasn't a bad idea at all. Are there more of those? We might branch out a little, since Christmas is just around the corner. Oh wait, let me call Arnold real quick and congratulate him on the new shame on his feet ..."

But when Satan grabbed for his phone, the floor suddenly jerked, making him stumble. Actually, the whole hall was trembling now, shaking, stones grinding, arches crashing. "My oh my, the renovations were just finished!" Mammon moaned. "What is that?" An opening formed in the highest part of the ceiling. The cracking got louder and simultaneuosly moved up. "Hell is splitting up!" Satan screeched. "Is that ..." And he ran to the part of the contract that was still hanging in the air, patiently, "Terms and Conditions" written on top in curved letter, snatched the first page and read: "Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, ..."

#shortstory #demonology #fiction #creative writing #writing prompt #reedsy #narration

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soulgalaxywolf · 6 months

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Hi, everyone! It's a bit late, but here's the second story for the Reedsy Weekly Writing Contest submission: #223 ACADEMIA

#writers on tumblr #writing #fiction #short stories #horror #thriller #lgbtq #reedsy weekly writing contests #reedsy #reedsy writing contests #writing contests #writing prompts #ocs #nano 2023 #nanowrimo 2023 #nanowrimo

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qarl-grimes · 6 months

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maybe have a look at the short story I submitted to reedsy 🥹🥹🥹🥹

#reedsy #writing #prompt #creative writing #fiction #fantasy #qarls talking shit

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renee-writer · 7 months

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The Bus

A/N Written for a show don't tell Reedsy prompt but to short to post there so...

It was just a whiff, just enough to have her arm hair stand up. She holds tighter to the bar above her. The bus is packed.

She forces her breathing to slow. No use hyperventilating in this crowd. She doubts if anyone will even notice.

The push and pull of bodies continue as the bus stops and starts. The doors creak as they slide open, admitting one, dropping two off. People push past her. She gets a few nods, ‘excuse me’, and quick smiles. No one is rude .

There it is again, stronger this time. She holds tighter to the bar, her heartbeat increasing, as her head swims with dizzinessness. Her face reflects her emotions, turning pale.

“Excuse me Miss. Here have my seat. You look ready to faint.” The older gentleman says.

It takes her a second to focus. “Oh, thank you. Overheated.” They change places and she is able to breath slightly better.

The bus continues it’s laborious journey, stopping and starting. The good Samaritan gets off at the next stop, she is happy to see. He didn’t have to stand long. An elderly lady enters. Despite feeling woozy, she starts to stand when she sees a young girl offer her seat. There may be hope for the youth yet.

“Just breath,” she tells herself, “You’re almost there.”

One stop away and the scent returns. It is to much. She jumps up, knocking into the man beside her. It is coming from him. Gasping, trying not to be sick, she pushes through to the front of the bus, ready to exit a mile from her home.

The bus doors open and she stumbles out. The bus drives away as she vomits.

#my writing #writing prompt #reedsy

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cardboardfoxwrites · 8 months

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Tell me sweet lies when you believe them

2. Start or end your story with a character receiving a hug or words of comfort.

Word count: 631 words

Triggers: mentions of the word "demon", implication of past trauma, mental/emotional abuse

Note: This is the second writing prompt I'm doing here. This is actually related to a Work in Progress of mine. I didn't plan this beforehand, but I used the opportunity to flash out the main character a little.

Enjoy!

The young woman watched the little girl, wondering how she could be so happy back then, knowing what she knew now, that is. A boy materialized next to her, and began talking with sweet words. The woman's hair fluttered in the soft breeze, the same demon whispering the same beautiful words, with a deeper voice and unhinged venom.

The boy in the image turned to face the little smiling girl, and the hair at the back of the woman's neck bristled. "Why don't you watch the stars at night?" Asked the echoing voice of the demon and the boy.

"But I do," answered the smiling girl and the tearing woman in unison.

"I know, but no, not like that." She felt him move beside her. She didn't want to see him, she didn't want the image of his burning eyes stuck in her mind, haunting her every time she'd close her eyes. In the mirror, the boy turned to look at the sky, while the girl, at his face. "Why don't you come out here to watch them, like tonight?"

"Father won't let me."

"Is this about him? I can fix it, if you want~"

"No. He said..." The little girl trailed off.

"...the world is a dangerous place." The woman continued, her voice strained.

"Yes, it is." She flinched when his cold breath caressed her ear.

The woman tensed, struggling to keep her mouth shut as her younger voice came from everywhere at once. "I'm afraid."

His booming laughter came like thunder – quiet in the beginning, deafening afterwards –, drowning the discussion of the other two, and drowning her in her own despair. "You were always afraid." She felt him circling her. Struggling not to react, cold tears tickled her chin. "Weak. Vulnerable. Naive."

"I was young, what did you expect?" Her voice broke, failing to reach the intended volume.

"Oh, you were everything I needed. Even better than him, I might say."

The silence fell upon them, and she looked around. The silhouette of a young man formed out of thin air. Blurry in the beginning, her eyes failed to focus. As more time passed, and it came closer, it became clearer. Her eyes widened at the sight she'd missed for the last few years. She shook her head. Getting out of the frightened trance, she backed away from him. Behind her, the space morphed into a solid wall. Unable to retreat anymore, she slid down the wall, cowering away from him helplessly.

He walked closer, until just one more step split them. He stared down at her weeping being, his face covered by darkness. "Why are you crying?" His soft voice, so new to her ears, made her heart break. "What happened? Ruse, what happened?"

"What didn't?" She breathed, choking.

He knelt in front of her. She refused to look at him. He cupped her cheek with a hand, and lifted her face to force her to face him. "Look at me, please."

She closed her eyes tightly. She shook her head, as if everything would disappear. She wanted to ignore him, to brush him off as if he was nothing but a ghost. But his soft voice broke her soul. "Please, don't." she whispered. "Leave me be..."

"Open your eyes, Ruse." He moved closer.

She tried to make herself one with the wall. An unknown force made her open her eyes and look at the one in front of her. He gently grabbed her hands into his, and pulled her closer, wrapping her into a hug.

"We'll be fine," he whispered.

"Everything will be fine," the demon holding her in place said, his claws digging into her skin.

"Tell me those sweet lies when you'll believe them," she swallowed, her own venom showing up.

And then everything darkened.

#writeblr #original work #original character #reedsy #writing prompt #wip

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84reedsy · 25 days

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Prompt #2 from previous ask

“you never look better than you do when you’re underneath me.” with Roddy Piper please and maybe fem reader?

Nights on the road were lonely, even though you were constantly surrounded by people. You craved anything remotely intimate after the endless day of playing pretend for the camera and the crowd. How you managed to find yourself in the recurring company of the rowdy one, Roddy Piper, you couldn’t explain.

You couldn’t explain it, and you definitely wouldn’t complain.

Behind the curtain of kayfabe, Roddy was often surprisingly soft spoken, but it only made you lean in closer, hanging off every word. He knew this, using his gravelly resonance to draw you in. You didn’t care who saw you climb into his car, or follow him into his hotel room. Not with the way you knew his hands would hold you, touch you.

In the car, his hand would find your knee, resting for a few moments before gradually moving up your thigh. The sensation would always quicken your pulse, but you knew it was a tease, he never let his hand slip towards your inner thigh. It was only ever a gentle tease and he talked through the entire ride, so much so that you weren’t even sure how aware he was that he was even touching you.

His hotel room was a different story.

You wished he wore the kilt outside of the arena, but he filled out his jeans nicely, too. What he wore wouldn’t matter much once the door closed and he’d ceremoniously secure the extra locks behind you.

“Now that we’re all alone, what shall we do my dear?” He took your suitcase, set it down and stepped up behind you. His hands slid along your waistline and you could feel his lips grazing along your neck making your skin prickle and your pulse race again.

“As if you haven’t been thinking about exactly what you want to do to me all day,” You quip back, your hand reaching behind you to feel his shaggy mane just as his teeth lightly press against your neck.

“I’ve been thinking of a lot of different things,” He slides a hand under the hem of your shirt and glides slowly across your ribs, knowing the slowness of his touch is like torture to you, “If only you knew the dirty things that cross my mind when I see you in that ring….you’d run for your life,”

“Fuck…” you whispered to yourself, but you knew he heard it, “but I know you’d end up catching me, putting me in my place,” You felt his other hand lace through your hair, gripping to tilt your head back to his shoulder.

“Because, like a good girl, you know where your place is, don’t you,” He growled in your ear, his tongue tracing the edge of it.

“God…yes…I do…” You can’t help but agree with his carnal attentions.

He released you, but only to busy his hands with removing your clothes, leaving them heap on the floor. He nudged you towards the bed.

“You know how I like you…” taking off his own shirt, he watched you slowly make your way to the bed and crawl across it with a calculated sensuality. You heard him hum as you bent over in front of him before settling to sit on the bed, your knees teasingly closed.

Watching him work his belt open, a part of you wondered if he’d ever agree to use it on you. You could think of a few ways he could please you with it. He was aggressive in the way his disrobed, it made your sex tingle and your thighs shift as you felt desire pulsing through you.

You watched him kneel on the bed, feeling the way the mattress gave as he got closer. His hand slid up your calf to your knees, slipping it between them. They parted without much resistance and you bit your lip as his eyes traveled downward quickly.

Roddy licked his lips slowly and as his eyes met yours, they were deep, black pools of want. He leaned over you, one hand slipping between your thighs and teasing your clit with a tender massage. He could see the impatient desire in your body language as you subtly squirmed. His smirk was a sign that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Roddy….please,” you begged, your hips pinned to stillness by the weight of his thighs against yours. Before you could plead again, his fingers slid farther down now teasing your aching cunt.

But the tease was a divine pleasure, you knew soon he wouldn't resist sinking his heavy, throbbing shaft inside of you next. You felt it twitch against your backside as you whimpered his name.

“Fuck me, Roddy…God PLEASE fuck me!” Your begging became more incensed as he teased letting you cum, but didn't allow it. His wicked chuckle that rumbled in his tanned, toned chest told you he was pleased with himself.

But he lowered himself, his shaggy hair dragging along your face as he tempted your lips with his. Distracting you with his taunting kiss, he replaced his fingers with his rigid cock, deepening the kiss as you gasped at the fullness of your sex.

As he moved his hips, you lay back on the bed, your legs gripping his waist.He didn't waste time being gentle. He earned his rowdy nickname well. It was all you could do to hold on for the ride. You came easily with his invading manhood, each one an exquisite relief.

“You never look better than you do when you’re underneath me.” He groaned with a deep resonance as you arched against him, your sex trembling around him.

You grinned with a sensual amusement at his praise.

“Well….let's do this more often then,”

You'd take any opportunity to be underneath him.

#reedsy answers asks #roddy piper #rowdy roddy piper #smut prompts #smut #fic prompts #wrestling #wcw #wwf #wwe

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