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>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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"Do you remember me?" she asked. She was a young woman in her late teens, early twenties. Faded black eyebrows coupled with a wavy blond wig, contacted eyes a stunning blue. She was thin, frail even, and on closer inspection, her pallid complexion was coupled with an abundance of blush applied over her body. She wore a yellow dress with sunflowers, inappropriate given the season we now were in.

I squinted my eyes uncertainly at her. "Se... lena?" I asked.

"Do you know what Hell you put me through in just sixteen-hundred words? Sixteen-hundred words was all it took to make me question my relationship with my boyfriend and to want to stalk some woman I never met before."

"Look... I'm sorry?"

"You're not sorry yet." She took a step closer to me, pulling her hair off her head and pressing it into my chest roughly. "I know what you had planned for me."

"I never even WROTE that down!" I countered, but her presence was imposing despite her diminutive stature.

She glared at me with such intensity it felt as if her gaze was boring a hole through my head. "You wanted a good-girl gone villainess? Guess what.

"Now you have one."

Ha, scary!

Child gET THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH! DROP THE GOBLIN! DROP IT NIGEL! My stars, you really are a strange boy. No please don't - and he ate it. Disgusting. You weird werecat you.

DeeDee. DeeDee no. I said NO! Well, there she goes, no stopping that fight.

Oops, now Li is involved - BOY IF YOU HELP HER IMMA MAKE YOUR LAST DEATH SEEM AS EASY AS A FLU SHOT NEXT TO WHAT'S COMING!

Well, nothing to do now except let you finish that fight. See, this is why I left you guys do deal with things on your own. You never listen to me. Absolutely pathetic.

Good luck, my babies. I'll check in on you soon. Let me know if one of you dies.

I'd just be thankful, probably, or tell my current MC (the one that would most likely emerge; I have an ensemble cast for my current work) that I'm taking a break for NaNo in order ot make sure the story stops going the direction it's headed becaue it's going insane. Seriously! I was literally this close to adding a twist straight out of Agatha Christie's >!Hercule Poirot novel from the 60s;Third Girl !<but I managed to take a break for a month. You seriously want that?

I think that her revenge would be something like punching me in the face and then ad hominem attacks.

I look her up and down gaze narrowed as I thought before replying " I'm sorry I don't know who you are"

She crosses her arms as she spoke " It's me! Celia!"

Then it hit me. How was she alive!? Of course it was her, what child 14 at the oldest had tattoos. " How are you here?" I question, Baffled

She unsheathed her sword holding it to my chin as she gestured in a derection and we began walking as she spoke. " You remeber the univere I was from yes?" I gave a nod and she went on " well it's time for you to go through that same place" She shoved me onwards before continuing "I killed my parents by pushing them into roamers because you decided I needed some dark secret" She hollered before knocking my feet from underneath me causing me to land with a thud.

"You wernt the only character I made for that Roleplay yknow" I grumbled sitting up gazing at a large ship my gaze widened as I watched two large irish wold hounds racing across the deck with a young boy in tow

" Griffin?" I breathed before getting to my feet as Celia brought me on board

I turned to look back to the dock baffled to see a village from the 1800's

But what was worse was people were being torn apart by Zombies!

And thats when I was shoved off I turned to look back but Celia was already lifting the board which I tumbled off of. " Wait! Celia, Griffin!" The shout drew the attention of the Zombies I scrambled to my feet and took off running only to find myself cornered.

One of the zombies grabbed a hold of me and bit down on my arm tearing a chunck of flesh out fausing me to cry out fumbling in my pocket I grabbed the switchblade and stabbed it through the head gazing around the alley I saw a ladder and quickly took to scrambling up it but upon being half way up It fell down into a pack of the zombies and I was ripped apart.

He was a young lad of about seventeen, on holiday after a particularly grueling year at the Lunar Royal Academy, when tragedy struck. His uncle, the only relative he had left, was murdered seconds before he arrived.

Now as heir to the estate of Vergas Ruthus, Servos had access to the financial records of his uncle. At first he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary, but one day he remembered a passing remark from his uncle.

Quickly he found the document that could confirm his suspicions. After he presented his evidence to the detective in charge, Detective Messer Vendryl, they quickly called him in for questioning. Following is a transcript of the interrogation:

DET (Detective Vendryl): When you first met Ruthus senior what were the conditions of your employment?

SUS (prime suspect): What do you mean?

DET: Why were you hired over the other applicants?

SUS: I don’t understand, what does this have to do with Vergas’ murder?

DET: Quite a lot actually. I have here a record of a payment from him to you dated four Mainworld Days before your employment officially began. Do you care to read the amount for us?

SUS remains silent.

DET: Eighty-four thousand Daes! That’s a rather large amount to loan a total stranger don’t you think?

LWYR (attorney for the suspect): How is that relevant detective?

DET: On the memo line it says “loan for home purchase”. Yet in the land department records there’s no purchase within a whole moonth of that date in your name for any amount remotely close to that. There is a purchase for eight hundred Daes almost a year before, though. Now read this line.

SUS: “If I can get the job I’ll have access to the camera—“ what is this?

DET: This is a transcript of your communication with a well known interplanetary thief. Where you go into great detail about your plan to rob your prospective employer.

LWYR: Where did you get that?

DET: From the Worley Communication Solutions archives, here’s a copy of the warrant.

DET gives LWYR a document.

DET: This next transcript is from a moonth later. It says, among other things, how “the <redacted> won’t show me the feeds.” And “I’ll let you know if I find another way in.” But this next one is from him to you: “Don’t bother with that. Just transfer to me three hundred thousand Daes and I’ll let you off.”

DET leans in.

DET: I knew Vergas. If you had told him the truth he would have given you the money. But instead you wanted to steal money from a stranger.

SUS fidgets in his seat.

DET: I have here a record your financial accounts. And wouldn’t you know it matches perfectly with the amounts of several thefts all around the galaxy. So here’s the deal: you can confess to murdering Commodore Ruthus and we’ll put you in a secure prison where you’ll be safe. Or we can release you while we build a murder case against you; but inevitably someone will leak this information to the press who will publish it where those you stole from will read it. And you know some of them don’t care about trials and red tape. Either way I suggest you have your attorney notify your next of kin.

Well that’s all I’ve got. This was the only protagonist I’ve actually abandoned. However the inspiration he is from can be found here. I never got around to finishing it but I figured this would be a good way to wrap things up a bit.

Anyways come check out some of my other stories.

"Hello, Tommy. Remember me?"

"Evelynn..? No, I must be dreaming..."

"No, no, you're awake. You're awake and I have so many things to say to you."

"What? Evelynn, is... is this because I never finished your story? I meant to, I have the entire plot planned out, I just need to wor-"

"You left us to suffer!" Evelynn screams, unsheathing a glinted sword and holding it at her side, knuckles white. "Do you know the pain you put everyone through?! When did you plan to fix your wrongdoings?!"

"Please," I back up, and for every step back I take she takes a step forward, "It's only been a year. I still have plans for you. You know it works out in the end, right? Well, mostly."

"It doesn't matter what you have planned, Tommy," Evelynn's voice shakes as my back finally hits the wall, "You never wrote it down. Do you know the agony of waiting in suspended motion for an entire year? Waiting for something to happen, for something to move?!"

"I'll write. I'll write right now. You just have to understand the stress I've been going through." I force a small smile, "Evelynn. You know-"

"I know you abandoned us!" She suddenly lifts her blade, stopping when the tip touches my neck, "Maybe if you had written your plans down, I would've considered mercy - but without knowing anything for so long, I don't believe you deserve it."

"Just let me tell you what happens." I carefully press as far back against the wall as possible, although that doesn't move the blade away. "Then, after, you can decide to... to do whatever to me. Okay?"

"See, there's one problem with that." Evelynn steps closer until she's inches away from me and her blade is on the side of my neck, "You talk out loud a lot when you're writing. I may not know everything that happens, but... I know you were going to kill me. But, if you die first, then how could you possibly do so?"

"Evelynn, there's a good cause for your death. Take into consideration the rest of the world I've built, without you it would've-"

"It wouldn't of mattered. Whether I died or not, it would've ended up the same. You may be a good writer, Tommy, but you are in no way a good liar."

"Maybe not," I gulp, closing my eyes. After a couple of seconds, I open them again, and Evelynn immediately steps back. "But there's one thing you didn't consider, Ev."

Evelynn steps back, eyes wide as she brings up her sword shakily in a fighting stance. "You can't be..." Her stare is fixated behind me, but I try to pay no mind.

I instead grin, straightening my tie as I step towards her.

"I write from experience."

★★★

I know I probably should've made myself more realistic but I just jumped at the chance to make myself the villain lol. Hope you enjoyed, this is my first time responding to a prompt!!

And I swear I AM going to work on the story Evelynn is in, soon!

Great one for a first, good luck!

The butcher of hell, the twisted trader, an alien in human skin, devil lord of jungles, and so many more. Fifty seven, to be exact, with hundreds of vaguely humanoid forms lingering in the fog beyond them.

I recognize them all of course. How could I forget even one of the faces that'd filled me with such passion as I gazed upon them and dreamed of their futures? As I sunk into the miseries that drove them and hatreds that gave them strength. The bonds that held them back from the monsters they should've been, the love they held for those around them.

But that love is gone from their faces. There is none of their ambition, their drive, the deeper thoughts I tried and failed to realize on a page. They snarl, spit, and writhe in a single horrific abomination. Each demanding the lives I denied them in my constant weakness.

Talia weeps for the family I forgot to give her, and the precious friends who never spent a true moment at her side. Her precious spellbook tumbles from her backback, the unnamed highschool's logo indecipherable. She'll never have to face the horrors that lurked in her small town, but she'll never grow beyond a scared child.

Thuja's roar of fury would've inspired legions to fight and die at his side, had they ever come into being. His hellish comrades would've grounded the blind rage of a young man who never knew love of any fashion beyond his draconic steed. Amid the conquests carried out in the name of a distant monarch that claimed to be his father, he'd have found everything he ever wanted among the conquered peoples. But his war never was, and thus he remains a boy filled with aimless hate.

None of them speak, I gave them no voices, but the message is clear. I'd thought them safe in the confines of my mind, free from the pathetic thing's they'd surely become if taken out. But there is no safety here, only a prison. They don't tell me what must be done to make it right, because I already know.

So I open my eyes and leave the bed. Feed and water myself, make sure my schedule's open, and flip open my laptop to write the worst story I've ever written.

I blinked and looked at the figure that now stood in my doorway. I broke the silence first.

"Who are you?"

"Already forgot about me huh?"

"Yes. Yes I did. What are you doing?"

"You sent me to wither in the corners of your mind for years and years. I have decided to do the same thing to you."

"What? Why? ...How?"

"Simple. I will take this notebook, start writing, make you the main character of my awful story, and toss it in the drawer and forget about it for a decade."

I nodded. "That is a good plan! You would have had me there, but I have already figured out a way to stop you."

The figure looked puzzled. "What do you mean? Wait, DON'T YOU DA-

(WIP, will finish later)

Warning, probably nsfw:

"hey, let me talk to you for a second!" A man with a raspy voice called after me as I crossed the busy street downtown. I kept my head low and didn't respond at first, such was the way to keep safe in uncertain spaces. "Wait the fuck up!" He huffed and puffed, a car honked as he darted across the roadway. I turned to see who it was, and my heart skipped a beat.

His skin was a dark, steel grey, with a full head of finger-combed black hair. I stopped for just a moment, taking the stranger in. Is that who I think it is? I blinked in wild confusion, such things shouldn't have been possible. But here we were.

"Holy fuck, I never thought I'd catch up to you," he breathed, leaning on his knees as I stood there in stunned silence. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" I started at the man in his black leather trench coat, before I saw a long tail peek out from behind him. I blinked again, I must have been imagining shit. He looked up at me with a wolfish grin full of shark-sharp teeth. "Do you remember me?" His two tails swayed back and forth, playfully. It was the unmistakable, hardened voice of someone who'd been stabbed in the throat multiple times, and hadn't made it easier with a lifetime of smoking and drinking.

"Should I?" I asked the man. Of course he rung a bell. The more I looked at him, the more I started to remember.

"You got a light?" He held out two cigarettes, one almost in offering. I grumbled but begrudgingly complied. "yeah, but I gotta catch a train soon," I said, "you can tag along for a bit, but don't make me late."

We walked for a while after I lit our smokes. He was a stranger in a new world, taking in the sights and sounds. I couldn't imagine how painful it must have been for him, he-who-must-wear-shades trying to navigate the urban world.

"So you do know who I am," the man mused. Cheeky bastard. "Name's familiar, but what's that got to do with me?" I asked, as we hustled together to the train stop.

"If you know who I am, you must know why I'm here," he smiled, anything but sweet. "I've got an idea," I huffed. "You're either here to kill me, fuck me, or make yourself my new best friend."

I glared at him, but it wasn't his fault. he didn't ask to be brought into this world, but I certainly didn't ask to bring him here. "nah, you've got me all wrong," he shook his head, "how do you feel about 'liberation'?" He asked, barely breaking stride. "Look, I know what 'liberation' means to you," I glanced up at the screens plastered to the walls of the transit stop, "I don't want it. Please, I need to go home."

"Yeah, well so do I," he glared, his voice reaching a tenor suggesting he was rather cross. Those tails of his swept side to side, and I couldn't take my eyes off them. I knew this man was dangerous, every inch of him was meant to be a living weapon.

"Listen alright, I didn't ask for this," he growled, "but you seem to know everything there is around here." I glanced up at the clock, the train would be here in minutes. "I need answers, dammit," he glowered, like a child mid-tantrum.

"Answers to what?" I started, "how you got here? I've got no idea. Better go take that up with the portal authority, or whoever the hell let you in this world!"

"No," he shook his head, "you've got me all wrong." He gestured at some benches and I relaxed, knowing he wasn't the type to hurt someone out of the blue. It didn't take long before we were sitting together on the bench then, waiting for the train. "Answers to what then?"

"I just wanna know why you did it," his gaze softened, "Why did I have such a bad relationship with my mother?"

I wasn't prepared for the answer. "you promise not to stab me with that knife in your coat if I tell you?"

"Pinky swear."

"Same with all those other knives on your person?" He made a face, but promised promptly.

"You weren't ready man," I shook my head, "first off, your mother wasn't a nice person. Second, I'm not sure you two could have reconciled if you tried!"

He glared at me then, beady black eyes like daggers behind those shades of his. "Then why couldn't you come up with something better?" He sputtered.

I took a deep breath. "Trauma. That's why." Two minutes to the train, and I could kiss this boy goodbye.

"Then what about MY trauma!?" He gritted his teeth, "I was going to be a father!"

"No, you werent!" I argued back, "I'm sorry, but the world you grew up in is no kinder than mine. Maybe less so. I'm sorry about that, but what could I do?"

"We'll, you could have written a proper arc," he grossed his arms, tails twitching like an angry cat. "what, where you get married to your mistress, fight your boss and adopt her kid?" My eyes softened, I knew he wasn't wrong. "Yeah, I'm sure I could have."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Shit, man. If I could, I'd turn back time and finish that arc for you. Not gonna lie, you deserve that." I breathed deep, "but that was years ago. Your best friend used to be my best friend. We had a falling out."

"That's no excuse."

"Is it?" I started at him, incredulous. "Listen, he fucked me over, he fucked you over. I'm gonna tell you right now, the fact that your story's not finished is a blessing in disguise. You really want to know what happens to your world?"

"Lay it on me," he leaned in close as the train finally arrived, "I want the truth."

You are the one who writes the pages

Lmao smart move there

I am SO screwed, that MC is a US Special Forces who survived the equivalent of hell.

Thank you!! Thanks for the great prompt as well :D

Twist

Is that a breaking bad reference? Lmao I love it

Thank damn god that my only (and current w.i.p) story's protagonist is a pacifist who at most locks the antagonists away somewhere with good conditions and entertainment, and will only hurt you if it's necessary to disarm you. Well, there is one "but", and if it came into play I would be completely fucked, but I won't talk about it because spoilers for something I might create and share someday. But, yeah, if that spoilery thing won't come into play, we're chilling as I practice digital art to make that animation someday.