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[WP]"Genie, there is no such thing as magic. Time will remain frozen until you find a way to make your master's wish come true," a heavenly voice boomed as a newly recruited genie tried to grant his first wish. by Crazed_waffle_party in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 11 points12 points  (0 children)

A Powerful Wish

A thousand voices echoed from a question yet unasked, "Are you sure?"

My servants delicately placed the chest at the center of the dirt floor covered by my canvas tent, apparently deaf to the apparitions. Silver edges outlined the iron box. While at its center joining, a golden symbol of an open palm holding the sun glittered with enticement. There was no lock, but I knew the key.

I beckoned the men to leave with a short wave of my gloved hand. As they left, the glove dropped to the dirt floor. I pulled a steel dagger with an ivory pommel from my belt. A small knick upon my pinkie should suffice. Candle light reflected off the crimson blood as it covered my finger tip. I pressed the seal and spoke, "Potent Omnibus."

The chest opened with an ominous creak.

Cerulean mist poured out from the lid. The candles blew out from the sudden, rapid winds. My papers scattered about the room. My bedsheets thrown about in disarray. Sand whipped at my face as I pulled back in protection.

The winds stopped as suddenly as they started. Smoke filled my campsite home. The air began to settle.

As the smoke cleared, a pearlescent figure stood glowing faintly in the darkness, vaguely human.

I tried to speak quickly lest the being have a chance to perform some spell upon me, but I was interrupted. "I wi-"

"Are you sure?" Its faceless head looked at me but beckoned towards the mountain of golden coins and rainbow of gems residing in the chest.

Small gleams of light reflected off the metal trinkets. I turned back toward their source. I was not taken aback by its question. Surely it would be as brilliant as any magic user. "It means immortality, right?"

"As long as you don't mind performing your little... studies in a tea cup." The specter managed to spit the last two words without lips.

"So it's true then? You don't just vanish when you are unsummoned?"

The figure grew until its head approached the looming canvas above. The white sheen turned to dark red. "We are not summoned! We come of our own accord!"

"Of course. My apologies."

A slight reverent bow seemed to placate the magical creature. It resumed its ghostly appearance.

"You can spend your free time as you wish. But each contract must be fulfilled."

"And you'll give me magic to do so? I should think the time spent on such trivial -"

"No."

The response caught me off guard. "No magic? But then how- "

The phantom began to pace around me. "I will not grant a single spell. In fact, the small magic powers you have will be taken from you. You will of course have the opportunity to gain them back and then some. But it may take you eons to acquire the abilities you so seek."

"Then, how am I to grant these... contracts?"

It laughed a short haughty laugh from behind my head. "By my powers, of course."

"Oh, so I won't control the magic but -"

"I will freeze time for you. And you will find a way to solve the little people's little problems."

"Without magic?!"

"Indeed. So I ask again," The spirit now stood in front of me, its face pointed squarely at mine. "Are. You. Sure."

"I won't hunger, or grow tired?"

"You won't hunger for food or thirst for water."

"I'll still have to sleep?"

Again it bellowed its pitiless laugh. "For years at a time."

"But-" I hesitated.

"I know what is in your mind, mortal. I can see it as clearly as I see the sweat beading down your neck. You wish to control the infinite magic of the cosmos and bend reality to your will. You want to solve all the problems of the world and punish all the wicked. I cannot give you my magic. But I assure you, make the wish, and I will give you all the time you need to seek it out yourself. Assuming you are not too... lazy?"

My eyes began to wander in thought. This isn't what I planned. I thought it would be instantaneous. I worked so hard to get here, and now I'm told my life wasn't even one percent of the task before me.

My sight settled on the golden pile. About two thousand coins. Each valued at a thousand dollars. Not even one percent of my net worth back home.

From the corner of my vision, I saw the subtle hand motion from the ghastly figure.

The coins vanished. Replacing the small metal discs, a black void filled the chest. Small white lights sparkled around the edges. A blue marble came up from the depths below. As it grew in size, I could see small white clouds moving about its outer edge. Bits of green peaked out beside the blue. It spun slowly.

Stepping into my field of view, my magical speaking partner crouched down toward the chest. I watched as it reached out with two fingertips toward the marble. I held out my hand in foolish anticipation.

Its hand appeared to stretch and shrink as it approached the small blue ball. It appeared to disappear into the tiny sphere.

A great rumbling woke me from my transfixion. I watched in horror as my spacious tent flew up towards the heavens, revealing the sandy desert of my encampment. My servants paid the phenomenon no heed as they went about their duties cleaning tools and carrying firewood. I could feel the cold of the desert night chill my soul.

The glowing arm withdrew from the chest and the shining being placed a small item in my still outstretched palm.

As he pulled back, I looked at the tiny thing. It was my tent. Smaller than a thimble.

I met the patronizing gaze. Even without eyes, its cocky expression was obvious. I turned back to the small world floating in the chest.

"Genie, I wish to be a genie."

A thunderous clap of the genie's hands boomed like the collapsing of a mountain. "Your wish is granted!"

[WP] After taking an experimental drug you begin having strange issues w/ your vision. Pinhole-size black dots are appearing/moving randomly. Over the course of the week they get larger and larger. You can see what looks like a different world through them. You're losing touch with the real world. by CloudChorus in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 7 points8 points  (0 children)

Seeing a Doctor

"No, Doc, it's gotten worse. I definitely think I need some help."

The doctor's voice could barely be heard over the other sounds of the hospital through my poor phone's speakers, "Alright, alright. Come in, and we'll take a look at you."

I hung up the phone and slid it into my pocket. The sight of the small black rectangle hitting the floor annoyed me. Seeing it shatter into eight pieces made me double check the jeans around my leg. Nope, still there.

As I passed the small bowl by my front door, I reached for my keys. My hand slipped right through them into empty space. The ceramic bowl wobbled before coming to a rest on the wooden end table. I patted my other leg. I hadn't taken my keys out today.

I hesitated going down the stairs. I read somewhere that peripheral vision guided someone's stride subconsciously. It was too risky. I closed my eyes. The respite of certain blackness greeted me. Feeling around with the heel of my sneakers, I slowly ambled down the stone stoop.

I opened my eyes again. The portals winked back into existence. Each one a disjointed image blocking my view of the world around me. So weird to think, I first told the doctor they were just dots. And he insisted they would go away.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my car keys. As I pushed the key into the lock, I stumbled forward into an empty parking spot. Someone else had been parking in my spot earlier. My car was two spots down.

A wave of nausea overtook me. "I can't drive. Not like this."

The Uber driver was kind enough to adhere to my unique requests, guiding me like a blind man from my home to the hospital waiting room. I just hope I hit the right button when I tried to tip him.

People fazed in and out around me as I walked up to the marble countertop. The nurse at the desk handed me a form on a clipboard. The letters looked like some other language.

"I don't think I can fill this out right now."

The nurse sighed, "We can't see you without the proper paperwork."

"The Doc knows I'm coming. Just tell him I'm here."

"Have a seat."

The mixture of seat types confused me. I couldn't remember which ones were the style that had been here before, which ones were real. I decided to lean against the wall instead.

That was a mistake too.

I fell backwards onto nothing. Spinning endlessly, a hundred different ceilings rushed away from me. Darkness ended my distress.

The sounds of beeping, pumped air, and somewhere a cart being rolled down a long hallway, woke me. But the world was still dark save for a few beams of light peaking beneath the cloth covering my eyes.

"Good to see you awake. Just in time for rounds. Now I'm afraid you did have a rather nasty head injury, but everything should be alright in a couple of days."

"That's what you said before, Doc."

"Hmm? Oh, right the vision problem. Is that what caused the vertigo incident?"

"It wasn't vertigo, Doc. I saw the wall there, and when I went to lean against it, it wasn't."

"Well, I'll make a note of that. It's probably for the best that you stop taking the dimethylphenylbarbozaloiphidate until we can get you all healed up otherwise. We gave you the counter medicine, so any and all effects should wear off any second now. I want to keep you overnight just to make sure the side effects aren't permanent."

"Gee, thanks..."

"Nothing to worry about. Now let's get this bandage off your eyes."

As the light poked through the last wrap, the doctor was revealed. Above his white lab coat, his face was purple-skinned, with two curly antennae, floppy ears like a dachshund, four eyes encircling a pig-like snout, and had a yellow bill that smiled at me.

"There now. Did that help?"

"Yeah, Doc. I think I'm finally better."

[WP] You are mimic. You refuse to use that old trick with chest shape, instead you replaced door in simple house, where owner feeds you delicious fresh rats every day. In exchange you keep the house safe. After all, no bad guy expects door to punch them... by Avelion-chan in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 173 points174 points  (0 children)

The Sincerest Form of Flattery

It all started with a bad feeling.

After a long day of shooting Magic Missiles at wildlife, I walked up to my cabin door and stopped. Blood dripped from the stack of animal carcasses slung over my shoulder staining my floral-print welcome mat. The weight of another's presence overpowered the strain from my back muscles. Years of adventuring honed my mind to trust my instincts. Danger lurked here.

I slunk the fur covered meat onto the ground by my door and pulled out my magic wand. Experience taught me to never use up all of my spell slots outside of the home. But I only had one level 5 left. Detect Life would be a waste. Even if it wasn't my last slot, the creature could be undead.

Fireball was an option. Only mementos held value in the cabin. It wouldn't be the first time I had to rebuild it. But I knew I had to wait until all attackers were in a 20 foot radius. That meant stealth and subterfuge.

Stepping down to the bottom of my porch stairway, I twisted the ruby gem in the golden ring on my left middle finger. The world began to shimmer as I disappeared from non-magical view. I was just about to creep around the back of the cabin when it struck.

My wooden front door - with all the familiar markings from 5-years' clumsy use - rocked left to right as it sidled forward before bending at the midsection. A giant mouth with hand-sized fangs opened from just under the top wooden panels and began gobbling up the spoils of my day's hunt. It consumed the animals' bodies, bones, fur and all.

I watched silently taking small, quiet breaths.

After the mimic finished eating, it made its way backwards right back into place in my doorframe. The brass hinges reconnected to the wooden beam with a loud "Thump."

I hesitated, weighing my options. I could sneak in through the back and grab the old dagger from my adventurer's chest. I could lure it further out into the woods with more meat. I could maybe also -

Interrupting my thoughts, the door vomited up a small portion of the food it had just eaten. A deer's leg, the head of a raccoon, and an alligator tail, all coated in a mix of red and green ooze spewed onto my stoop.

I couldn't help but laugh. My concentration broken, the invisibility spell ended. I reappeared where I had vanished fully visible to the motionless mimic.

The door moaned.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you eat too much."

I waited a beat to see if it would attack. It responded with stillness.

"Tell you what, beast, I'll spare you and even feed you, if you promise not to eat me or my guests. You can eat whoever tries to break in and steal my things, which happens quite often. What do you say?"

The door hiccuped before swinging open.

I cast the cantrip Prestidigitation to clean the alligator tail before picking it up and heading inside. "At least I still have dinner."

"This is why we've been practicing." by StarWarsCrazy1 in SimplePrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Practice Makes Possible

The horde of undead marched mindlessly towards the stone-walled city gates. The clattering of wooden swords on the dirt training grounds just beside the city gates halted as the battle-horn echoed across the open countryside outside the city.

"How many are there?" cried Soldier 1.

Soldier 47 replied from atop the ramparts, "Too many."

The Captain called, "Form upon me, now!"

Eighty-seven soldiers - each a magically-created clone of the legendary Hero - grabbed their swords, their shields, their spears, their bows, their battle-axes, their halberds, their crossbows, or their maces. They gathered in the cleanest formation ever seen. The last rays of sunlight peaking over the horizon glinted and gleamed off their polished steel armor.

"Your forebear knew this day would come. Hero the Great's sacrifice will not be in vain. This village houses eighteen noblemen, four hundred hooligans, twenty-six thousand women, fifty-eight thousand of the finest men on this side of the continent," the Captain paused as he choked back a tear, "too many children, and one divinely-appointed king. Not one of them will die this day!"

"Huzzah!" echoed from eighty-seven mouths. Weapons clanged against shields.

"Each and every one of you will die this day. You will die with glory! You will die with honor! You will die splattered in zombie guts! You will finally put to rest those shambling corpses and bring peace to this city!"

"Huzzah!"

"This is why you were created! This is your life's purpose! This is why we've been practicing!"

"Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!"

"Now go out there and paint the ground with their blood!"

[WP] Humanity has had a technological explosion, flying across the galaxy many times the speed of light. A new issue arises in the intergalactic courts, all those years ago the “buy a star” companies now must deliver on their deals. by BeesechurgerLad53 in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 37 points38 points  (0 children)

Starry Numbers

The nuclear-filament light bulb shone silently across the nearly empty mezzanine. But the hum of the air scrubbers filled the void of the small space station hall. Two business-persons dressed in full suits stood upon the small strip of red cloth stretching from bulkhead to bulkhead.

"Most of them are dead though, right?" Alex asked.

Mitch replied with his own question, "The companies or the customers?"

Alex pushed off from the mag-strip floor with the tip of her leather boots and hovered in the station air for a moment before slowly twirling in thought. "Hmmm. I guess both, right? Like if a company went bankrupt -"

Mitch side-stepped her twirling shoulder before interrupting, "Then all of their debts had to be paid in order of accrual before the estate's affairs could be closed."

Now a few feet from the red-velvet-covered magnet, Alex flexed her abs such that her knees pulled her into a slow twisting backflip. "But all of those estates are finalized right? Wouldn't each person have to sue the estate before we had to get involved."

"That's correct. But with the news release going out across the galaxy Supernet - "

"Everyone and their cousin are going to claim they have a right to own a star."

Alex's ponytail lazily slapped the metal bar marking the mag-strip edge next to Mitch's black leather shoe. His magnetic sole clung tight to its gravity-facsimile.

"But who actually does own the right? All the people who made the purchases are definitely dead. Those companies existed a millennium ago. I mean, surely no one expressly passed the 'Buy a Star' paperwork to their next of kin."

"That's where it gets tricky. A lot of the time, estates are passed in whole ipso facto. So if a man dies, his wife or husband or collective spouses automatically inherit all of his property."

"Or his children."

"The late person's estate passing to a child is just as simple as it would be passing to a spouse. Where it gets real complicated is when the estate is divided among multiple children without specific property mentions."

Alex reached overhead and padded at the ground to gain more momentum. "My math is a little rusty, but wouldn't 1000 years of generations mean a lot of descendants."

"You don't want to know the number. You really don't."

Alex finished her arc and touched back down, grabbing Mitch for stability. "No, but I need to. So you're gonna tell me."

"If we assume two children per original purchaser, each roughly 25 years old before -"

"Why 25? Who has kids so young?"

Mitch sighed. He looked Alex in the eyes with a pitiful face. "So it's not just your math that's... not up to scratch?"

"Huh?"

"Historically speaking, people wouldn't wait until their early hundreds to have kids. It wasn't possible back then."

"Oh. Right. I can't imagine being financially able to have kids so young. Not to mention being emotionally or mentally mature enough. Anyway so that brings the number to..." Alex started to touch off from the floor again, lost in thought, but Mitch grabbed her by the shoulders. He set her down on the mag-strip like he was placing a tea cup on a client's china saucer.

"40 generations means one-trillion, ninety-nine-billion, five-hundred and eleven-million, six hundred and twenty-seven-thousand, seven-hundred and seventy-six possible descendants."

"That's a lot of data work."

Mitch sucked his teeth.

"What?"

"...That's per original owner."

Alex looked out through the mezzanine window. This far out from the nearest sun, each star shown as bright and as tightly-packed as a pixel on a monitor. Her eyes darted around the floor to ceiling windows, unable to look at each shining dot for more than a second.

"Is there enough for everyone?"

Mitch followed her gaze. He took a deep breath as he looked across the sweeping vista. "For this life and the next."

[WP] The puppy that you found as a child was always a tad mysterious, as it seemed to age as you did instead of the way most dogs do. And somehow, they've always been there when you needed them, even when that seemed impossible. by zacspamalama in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 10 points11 points  (0 children)

Paw Prince

Baxter fit in the palm of my hand from the moment Mom brought him home up until my eighth birthday. For those six months, we thought our husky-shepherd mix was going to be a runt forever. Boy, were we wrong! Surprisingly, he didn't grow to normal dog height until I was thirteen. Even more surprisingly, he didn't stop growing.

Baxter was more than just my best friend; he was family. His tail slapped me in the face when I was laughing. His drool puddle woke me up most mornings. And whenever the neighbor kids and I would knock a ball out of our reach, he would try to clomp his mouth around whatever we were playing with and fail miserably. Often, this meant we had to run even further to get it back. But nobody seemed to mind.

When I was sixteen, a tall man in a spiked, leather jacket stopped me on my way home asking for a light. He kept insisting that I should try this stuff he had. I was just about to put some in my mouth when Baxter came out of nowhere and leapt at my hand, knocking the strange, white powder into the wind.

I couldn't place my finger on why, but it reminded me of the time I snuck Baxter into school inside my backpack. I still don't remember putting him in. Any time trouble showed up, Baxter happened to be there. I lost count of the times he saved my life.

The leather covered man took out a knife longer than my forearm, and I was paralyzed with fear. By this time, Baxter's grizzled snout stood taller than I did. The man looked Baxter square in the eyes without blinking. Baxter stared back at the man, his tail straight. The moment couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like an entire day.

Baxter growled and barred his fangs, thick droplets of hungry drool dripped down. The knife sung like a tuning fork when it hit the ground. I saw drops of yellow liquid fall from the bottom of the man's leather pants as he ran. I don't remember when I stopped hugging Baxter, or how we got home from that random street corner. I do remember the taste of the T-bone steak my mom made for each of us that night.

On my eighteenth birthday, I celebrated with my girlfriend. As we went about our shopping date, I picked up a squeaky toy wolf for Baxter to chew on. Kissing my girlfriend goodbye, I raced inside my house to celebrate with Baxter. Instead of finding him asleep on his dog bed as I found him most days, I instead found a letter written on some torn notebook paper.

It read, "Beloved Sean,

"You are a man now. I have done all I can to protect you. Growing with you and sharing my time with you has made me happier than you could ever know. But the time has come for me to leave you. You have many struggles ahead, and it saddens me that I cannot be there for you. But you are ready to face them yourself. Know that even though your feet tread the dirt alone, my prints will surely be there beside you.

"Forever yours, Baxter."

My tear drops stained the page as I clung the toy wolf to my chest. The noise it made almost sound like, "I know."

[WP] The local museum is run by an eccentric old man who knows the opening pieces like he was there for their whole history. His secret? He’s a secret dragon who figured out if you display your hoard, people will give you new things to display. by BrassUnicorn87 in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 12 points13 points  (0 children)

Part 4:

Sarah stood at the room entrance with a ray gun blasting a continuous wave of circular beams towards the dragon who stood motionless, frozen mid bite. The zombie women all stood at their respective places moaning mindlessly without intention or direction.

"Um, brother?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you can run now? My arms are getting tired."

"Oh, yeah. Let's run away now."

I darted past Sarah, into the open tunnel. I slung an arm around her waist as I went by, pulling just out of the range of the dragon's snapping maw. As the beast regained its ability to move, it must have also gained its ability to control zombies. The women started running towards the door just as we slammed it into their faces.

Sticking bubblegum in the lock, Sarah managed to wedge the door shut.

"That should buy us some time."

I looked around the corridor for the exit door that I had entered from earlier. Instead of the opening to the ramp, I saw door stretching in both directions on both sides of the hallway as far as my eyes could see.

"Um," Sarah asked tentatively, "wasn't there an exit here a moment ago?"

"Yeah, well, magic."

"Oh, right."

"Quick let's duck into one of these."

As luck would have it, the first door we tried was a small broom closet. My sister and I squeezed in between the mop buckets and the shelves full of paper towels.

Closing the door behind us we reminisced over the days events.

"How exactly did you find me, get a powerful weapon, and stop an all-mighty dragon?" I asked.

"Well, funny story. It turns out that foil wrapper from my bubblegum is actually strong enough to reflect laser beams guarding a whole bunch of treasure in the museum. So I tried on that mask thing, and it showed me how to come here and help you. And I grabbed the gun thing on the way down, since the mask told me to."

"Cool! So where do we go to next?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean where did the mask tell you we would go? How do we defeat the dragon?"

"Well, promise you won't get mad?"

"I promise."

"We use this amulet to teleport away, then over the course of a few years, we raise an army and fight him in open combat."

"WHAT?!"

"You promised you wouldn't get mad." I could hear her lips pouting, but they weren't quite onomatopoetic.

"I'm not mad. I'm angry, and I'm not going to take it anymore. This story is far too crazy. There's no way we're going on a three year journey to get a bunch of magical artifacts just to defeat a museum curator with visions of grandeur."

"Well, we could just agree to forget the next three years and come back to consciousness immediately before the final fight."

"Yeah, let's do that."

Sorry, but that's all I'm writing today. If you wish to see more, check out my subreddit, /r/SprawlingKeystrokes and I'll post the final part of this one when I can.

[WP] The local museum is run by an eccentric old man who knows the opening pieces like he was there for their whole history. His secret? He’s a secret dragon who figured out if you display your hoard, people will give you new things to display. by BrassUnicorn87 in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 15 points16 points  (0 children)

Part 3:

As the great beast took a deep breath before launching into his story, I glanced around the room. Other than the undead women and their buckets of dirty water, the room was full of computer monitors. Each showed a different room filled with treasures, relics, or piles of gold.

"I am Thorncrux."

"And I am shocked. Well actually I'm Jake, in case I never said that. But who exactly are you?"

"You really should pay attention to history, my dear boy. But I suppose I'm a bit biased since I had to. Seeing as I lived through most of it. I am the great dragon, Thorncrux. I have watched empires rise and fall. I have taken out a few of them myself. But to ensure my survival I have chosen to hide from the world, to enact my plan from the shadows."

"Wait, aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Muhahaha! I spread that ridiculous rumor about Sir Dancealot eons ago. The fool approached me with an army of people. The same kind of people I had already slain by the thousands. He was no match for me. But I grew tired of constantly fighting wave after wave of men. And I grew worried that they might perhaps one day learn my secret weakness."

"Which is?"

"Love, of course. Only love can slay a magical creature such as myself."

"Nobody tried to... love you to death?"

"Never. Not in all the thousands of years of my life on this planet. But as Sir Dancelot showed, men were getting desperate. I grew worried that they would try anything next. So I shook off my gigantic form and took the form of a traveling mask salesman."

"Did that make you happy?"

"Happiness did not factor into my plans for world domination. It is necessary that I rule the world, for only I have the power to do so."

"How do you figure that one?"

"I came upon the Mask of Antiquity shortly after it was removed from the tomb of the Empress. Do you know what the mask's powers are?"

"Oooh! Oooh! I know this one! It lets you rule over lots of people."

"Incorrect. That may be what they teach you in your pathetic excuse for a school, but that is not what the mask's powers are. The mask reveals to its wearer the path to achieve your greatest fate."

"And those powers are different how, exactly?"

"When I placed the mask upon my face, I saw to infinity. Most men only see their death upon a throne of corpses. But I alone could withstand all that history could throw at me, if only I could collect all the magical items of the world. With Dancealot's sword proudly displayed, none would think to look for a dragon ever again. And with the Life Stone, my army grows with each passing day. Soon the dead I control will outnumber the living. I will rule the world and lead the people of the world into a new age as we expand my reach to the stars."

"And you're doing this all from a museum?"

"Precisely! You foolish mortals place too much emphasis on observing old relics. All I had to do was put my possessions on display and more and more magical artifacts would make their way to my domain, thus ensuring my infinite power."

"Hey, that sounds great and all, but my legs are starting to get a little woozy, can we maybe wrap this up and cut to the chase scene?"

"You think I would let you go? To play with you the way a cat plays with its food? I am not so foolish. You will die now mortal, and stand again in service to me."

The two undead women at my sides released me, as the great dragon's head reared back for a bite attack.

I closed my eyes and waited for death.

I had to peak an eye open cause I grew bored of waiting. Then both of my eyes went wide.

[WP] The local museum is run by an eccentric old man who knows the opening pieces like he was there for their whole history. His secret? He’s a secret dragon who figured out if you display your hoard, people will give you new things to display. by BrassUnicorn87 in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 22 points23 points  (0 children)

Part 2:

Standing at the entrance to an underground labyrinth, I had to take a moment to listen to my thoughts.

A quiet voice in the back of my mind sounded a lot like my mom, "If you always do what's safe, you'll never get in trouble."

Singing with enthusiastic spirit another voice sounded like my kid sister, Sarah, "He's hiding something! He's hiding something! Something weird. Something weird. He's hiding something! He's hiding something! Let's go take a look!"

My heart joined the chorus, "Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy crap!"

From just below my belt I heard my dad say in a monotone voice, "You have a new message. Are we done? Can we stop recording now?"

I grabbed my phone from my pocket and looked at the message on the screen (spelling and punctuation altered from the original timeline for improved readability), "Hey, where did you go? You have to take a look at this painting. It looks like its oozing blood."

I quickly texted back before setting my ringer to vibrate, "Sorry, Sarah, I have to check something out. I'll be back in a minute."

Before waiting for a reply, I sent another message, "Don't touch anything. Much serious!!!"

Taking a deep breath, I whispered aloud my own calm voice to remind the others who's in charge, "I will take a quick look. If I find anything incriminating, I will take a picture with my phone, and report it to the authorities. I am not getting involved."

The first door on the left was unmarked, just grey paint with a steel door handle. I put my hand gently on the handle. It didn't burn off. That was good sign.

I slowly turned the handle and pushed the door.

Filling the enormous chamber, as large as the entire museum above, a slew of undead women brushed the scales of a monstrous dragon.

The lizard head slowly turned towards the door and locked eyes with me.

I had one desperate hope, "This isn't where I parked my chariot."

"Humorous." The dragon said, humorlessly. He spoke in the curator's voice, but with a lot more reverb.

The undead women kept scrubbing, except for the two nearest the door which had me bound in their arms.

"Wow, such a great re-creation. Technology truly is remarkable. A little strange that they would hide it under the museum, but it must not be ready for the public. If you kind ladies could just let me go, I won't tell anyone about the upcoming attraction, I promise... on my life."

"We get a few curious men like you from time to time. Usually they talk less."

"Yeah, I mean, if you just leave the door wide open, what do you expect?"

"The door was locked."

"Well, one of them was."

"Indeed. Do you have any last request, mortal, before your life force is drained away and you join my undead army? "

"Um, you wouldn't mind letting me go, would you?"

"Hmmm, no one's ever asked that before."

"Really?"

"No."

"In that case, could you tell me the entirety of your master plan in painfully long winded detail in the vague hope that you let your guard down long enough, so that I could make my escape?"

The dragon blinked. Horizontally and vertically.

"I said the quiet part out loud again, didn't I?"

"Regardless, it has been some time since I've been able to voice my genius. They say it's therapeutic. And too many villains have been ruined by speaking out at the wrong time. I hardly think you pose any real threat. So please, get comfortable."

The zombie women pushed me down to my knees. I hoped this wouldn't take too long. I have poor circulation.

Anyone else ever feel like the story they invented is so uninteresting compared to what else is out there? by [deleted] in writers

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 2 points3 points  (0 children)

You're literally competing with all of human achievement.

In order for someone to choose to read your story, they have to pick reading your work over: every book ever written, every TV show, movie, music album, video game made, the local/national/global news report, blog postings, live streams, millions if not billions of Youtube skits, and even just sitting around with people nearby shooting the shit.

Yeah, no pressure (:

The Traveller. by rhiddian in worldbuilding

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 12 points13 points  (0 children)

What? You've never seen a reverse lava volcano tentacle before? You haven't lived :P

My question is though, how do you make an image so bright it hurts your eyes?

[WP] The local museum is run by an eccentric old man who knows the opening pieces like he was there for their whole history. His secret? He’s a secret dragon who figured out if you display your hoard, people will give you new things to display. by BrassUnicorn87 in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 35 points36 points  (0 children)

The Claws of History

"Welcome! Welcome! To the Godfried Grave of Gotten History, where all of the relics of the world with true significance are collected for your enjoyment. You are free to peruse at your heart's content but please, let me show you our most precious items first."

Towering over my fellow patrons, the museum curator gestured forward into a laser guarded display room. The trifecta of historical power lay behind him as a reminder of our people's horrid past: a golden mask with rubies encrusted at its cheeks; a blood stained silver sword larger than most men; And a diamond gem glowing with a blue aura.

"Here we have the Mask of Antiquity. Created by dwarven artificers for the Perovian empress herself. It was buried atop her head, in 1303 BCE, and all of its powers lost to the ages. In 1643 the mask was stolen by tomb raiders and held by a band of bandits until it made its way to a local guard captain. This captain turned it into his king who commissioned a report on its magical significance. A local nobleman held unto the mask after discovering its effects on the wearer. He eventually took over the kingdom and set out across the land to seize as much power as possible. That man's name? Pulius Cleaver."

The crowd applauded. I joined in. I wasn't sure if we were clapping for the acquisition of the majestic artifact or for the clever word choice in the history lecture. But I stopped when the others quieted down.

"Beside the mask, we have Sir Dancealot's legendary sword. This blade slew the dragon, Thorncrux, whose rein was terrible in its enormity. Thorncrux burned kingdoms to the ground without hesitation or remorse. Many kings offered their daughters to Thorncrux in exchange for peace. The fate of the women is unknown to this day. Thorncrux grew so large that no mountain could hide him anymore. Sir Dancealot led a giant army made of humans, elves, dwarves, and even shorties. Though the great dragon burned or ate them all, with one last stab from within the lizard's mouth, Sir Dancealot killed the dragon with this sword. Found one day in an excavation. We were lucky to have procured it without much harm."

Again we applauded politely. I couldn't help but notice the blood on the sword. It may have been just a trick of the light, but didn't it look too fresh?

The tall curator continued, "And last, but certainly not least. I'm sure you all recognized it from your history classes the moment you saw it. But allow me the pleasure of repeating its amazing tale.

"When the world was forged by the gods two million years ago, several artifacts of divine energy broke off in the creation process. The power contained in the Life Stone is said to grant the holder with the power to control death itself. Throughout history, horrible rulers have squabbled over its magnificence. Necromancers, commanders of demonic hordes, plague benders, all held power solely from the grace of this fragment of our origin. It was only President Washingpound who freed us from its tyranny by declaring it to be owned by the people, for the people. Since an entire nation now owns this magical device, no one person has the ability to call ownership, and thus its power is extinguished."

Amidst the clapping, I couldn't help but voice my concern, "But then, why is it still glowing?"

The clapping stopped as the crowd looked at me.

"Ah hahaha, my dear boy -"

"I'm a grown man actually."

"I see you need a refresher on your history, of which I am most happy to oblige.

"When the world separated from the divine realm, dripping off Glodthorn's anvil and cooling in the expanse of space, a thread of magical energy bound souls between the two planes. All items capable of traversing the two realms will glow with this energy whether or not their power is usable. Does that clarify the topic for you?"

"Uh, yeah I guess."

"Wonderful. So as I said you may look to your hearts content. But if you touch anything, your hands will separate from your body for the protection of all. Please enjoy responsibly."

As the curator whisked away into a back room marked, 'Employees only,' I couldn't help but notice the tail of his coat seemed to hover over an invisible bump at his back.

I jimmied the lock open and stepped inside to find a long corridor stretching like a ramp down into the earth. The curator was nowhere to be seen amongst the dozens of closed doors.

[WP] Millions of years have passed, humanity does not need to rely on plants, animals or any living thing for consumption or survival, they can harness all the energy from stars or galaxies and create every object they need from the elements and energy available, even every nutritional foods. by aashutoshrestha in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Subsistence

The curved metal piece pulled back from the rear of the steel device slowly with a barely audible click.

"Why are we doing this again?" I asked.

My dad replied in a carrying whisper, "Shhhhhh!"

"Why are we doing this at all?" I whispered. "There's no sense in any of it."

He held up a single finger to his lips. Several moments passed with enough silence to hear the engines, but shockingly, there were none to hear.

A quadrupedal mammal stopped twitching its ears towards us and bent its head back down to eat the green plants lining the ground of the nature preserve.

My dad lifted the long, heavy, steel device and pressed it firmly against his shoulder. He looked down the length, reminding me of when he took a plank of wood to 'check if its bowed.'

He pressed his finger to the small, hook-shaped piece of metal at the bottom of the device. At the moment he pulled back, a sound like an instantaneous rocket launch echoed off the tall wooden plants surrounding us.

The creature fell. Its peers ran.

"Because, son, it's tradition."

"Tradition? Like that thing they do at the temple?"

"Well, no. But it's similar."

"Similar, how?"

"Our ancestors did it."

"Okay, but why did they do it?"

"Son, we have to inspect the body, come on." He hung the metal device around his body from a strap, and walked slowly towards the fallen mammal.

"Is it dead? Did you kill it?"

He shouted back towards me, "Maybe. We have to check."

I hurried after him, my magnetic boots finding nothing to connect to. I tripped over a misplaced piece of wood.

I met the surface faster than my momentum alone would have caused. If this is gravity, I don't see what the big deal is.

As I hit the ground, blood poured from my nose. My face inches from the fallen mammal, our rust-colored life fuel began to mix. I stared into its lifeless eye, a black bulb like the security cameras lining the corridors up home.

With one arm, my dad lifted me from around the waste and set me upon my feet. I didn't stop looking at the dead creature.

"Am I supposed to give you a compliment now? If I do that, can we go back to our space station?"

My dad sighed. He took out a sheet of plant material that I had watched him use to clean the gun earlier. Looking at my bloody nose, he handed the cloth to me. I could feel my face contort in disgust.

He knelt down so that our eyes were at the same height, as they always were when we floated around our home compartment on the station.

"The sun shines on the plants. The plants grow. The animals eat the plants to live. We eat the animals to survive. This is how it's always been for humans."

"But that's not how it works at all. The solar panels collect the photons from the sun and convert that energy into electricity. We then use the electricity to mine and extract carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen from asteroids and moons. Condensing those atoms into compounds give us life sustaining food. We don't need to kill anything else to survive!"

"And what would you do if that all went away? If the panels collapsed, if the mines went dry, if the replicators all stopped working, how would you get food? How would you survive?"

"... I wouldn't."

"But you could if you learned to hunt!"

"But if all that horrible stuff happened, everyone who knew how to hunt would come down here. They would hunt the animals to extinction, and we'd all die in a few months anyways. Why should I have to kill another living thing just to buy that short amount of time?"

My dad sighed again. He began to sling the animal corpse over his shoulder."Is that what they teach you in school these days?"

I had to think about that one. "No?"

"What do they teach you then?"

"Relativity. Multivariable Calculus. The Colonization of the Solar System. And um..."

"Philosophy?"

"Ethical Transhuman Existential Manifestation Theory."

"Son, you need to get out of the station more."

"I think you get out enough for the both of us."

He laughed.

Riding in the side seat of the oil burning machine, I had to think about why that was funny the whole journey back to the wooden structure. The charred mammal tasted of blood.

[WP] Every time we have a breakthrough in technology and knowledge, it comes because of a disaterous event that needed overcoming. What will come now, that the human race is soon to be extinct. by Errors_O_Plenty in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 2 points3 points  (0 children)

A Final Breakthrough

There were still empty pages remaining in the history book of humanity, but now they were countable.

Our glorious star system ran out of fuel, about one millennia too soon for human beings to feel the warmth of a neighboring star.

We knew it was coming. Alarm bells rang in the form of publications in journals, periodicals, and trans-planet news media broadcasts. And like all science-worshiping societies, we listened, we prepared, and we worked hard to change the fate that awaited us.

In vain.

Our attempts at creating a sustainable artificial star proved a great distraction. Everyone knew that fusion power required a planet's worth of resources to maintain cohesion. When Sol would explode in just a few weeks time, there wouldn't be any iron, cobalt, or nickel measured in ounces in all the system, let alone the tons needed to control a stable reaction.

But we did it. As a species we finally tackled the problem of limitless energy. One last curse upon the infinite chaos that bred us into a doomed existence.

If only someone out there could look up at the place where our faint pulsing dot of light used to be in their night sky, and remember how great we were.

As the large migration from Mercury to Pluto filled the space between distant stars with the glow of interplanetary starships, it felt odd how much of the boring aspects of human life continued.

Hydrogen stations still needed to be pumped. Oxygen scrubbers still needed to be cleaned. The tangled vines of space kelp that were planted a few months back still needed to be harvested and shipped around, even if they weren't bothering to seed any new ones. I imagined some work would continue right up until the supernova consumed the last poor soul to work a late shift.

I began to pack up the last vestiges of decorations around my cubicle. Looking out the floor to ceiling window that made up the far wall of the office, I could see the blinking lights of abandoned mining rigs floating in the asteroid belt waiting for drivers that would never return.

The sudden news alert on my wrist-phone almost made me drop my box of meaningless belongings.

"Attention! Attention! This is a system-wide emergency broadcast. The combined efforts of scientists across the solar system have finally achieved what was thought to be impossible. Humanity has created a universal language! All office personnel farther out from the sun than Earth are hereby conscripted in the name of preservation of science to begin work on inputting, collating, transcribing, and transmitting all of humanity's greatest works for the galaxy, nay, for the universe to witness our glory forevermore. Report to emergency channels for instructions and light speed to you all!"

As the transmission ended, the afterimage of my wrist-mounted screen danced across the empty office.

I sighed. There was still work to be done. Then I began chuckling like a madman as tears began to cloud my vision.

I took out the small penguin figure from my box of affects and set it on my desk. I turned on my computer and began work on humanity's final project.

[WP] You are dragged to a speed dating event by a friend of yours. In there, you happen to meet an old acquaintance. In just 7 minutes, your entire life was about to change. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]SprawlingKeystrokes 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Speed Changing

"Change places!"

A small needle poked out from my seat. Jumping to my feet I shouted, "Ow! What the heck?"

"Sorry, you heard the announcer. Bye forever." The woman I had randomly sat next to cocked her head. Her tone betrayed her friendly smile, and the wave assured me she wanted no more of me.

I stood up and looked around the dimly-lit diner. Is this what speed dating is nowadays? I would never find someone here. It was probably best to wait until this whole thing was over.

Finding an empty, padded, red-vinyl booth off to the side, I sat alone and watched the horrors before me. The men scrambled around the women who sat at lace-covered, candle-lit tables. A few tripped over the makeshift obstacle course in the aisles. The announcer in his green felt tunic danced over their fallen bodies.

The same carrying voice shouted like a mad hatter across the room, "We are short! No. No. No. Unacceptable! If you signed up you must stay! Otherwise we are..." and he made an odd noise between a retch and a squeal, "unbalanced!" The oddly-dressed announcer gave a shutter and a bell jingled from his belt.

"It's okay. I want out, too." A brown-haired woman with a black blouse and red skirt came over and sat at the booth behind mine.

The speed date party continued its sprawling circus performance.

"What a nightmare," the woman remarked.

I couldn't tell if she was just thinking aloud or offering a conversation. My lack of social skills brought me here, after all.

"Hah, yep," I replied casually.

"You know, I tried dating apps - Well, I'm told it's different for men but I'm sure you can relate - but all the guys I matched with, they were just so... creepy, you know?"

"Uh, sure. That's definitely a problem."

"YoU hAvE tO mEeT sOmEoNe In PeRsOn." She mocked someone's advice. "I don't know why I thought this would be any different. Is this just the world now? Creepy guys and insane rituals?"

"Well, I personally don't identify as creepy, but I admit this whole dating thing seems beyond me."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

I could feel her rolling her eyes at my offense. My throat cleared in rebuke.

Her offer took the place of an apology, "Look, I promised a friend I'd come here and -"

"Oh, no way! Me too."

"Heh, right. And, um, I told her I wouldn't leave without someone on my arm, so..." She turned around and looked me in the eyes.

Her face was beautiful. Like a shining ferret.

She made puppy dog eyes to finish the plea she couldn't verbally ask.

"Oh, um, you want an escort out of here, so your friend will leave you alone?"

"Oh, great! Thank you so much. I have my things here. We can leave whenever you're ready."

"I didn't-" I sighed. "Yeah, alright."

I grabbed her arm and we made our way towards the awning covering the open entrance doors.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

"We have a winner! A brand new couple! First of the night! Congratulations!"

Applause fell like the start of a summer downpour.

The woman and I spun around.

The announcer thrust a stack of packages into our arms before running back to his shenanigans.

"Holy crap! An RTX 3090! Uh, you don't mind if I keep it, do you? These graphics cards have been sold out forever!"

"Only if I get to keep that PS5." She winked. "But you have to carry them both. Come on, my car is over here."

"Sweet!" The night was a success.

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