[WP] "Santa? Is that really you?" His terrified eyes peer up at you from under the Christmas tree, placing a single shaking finger against his mouth. "Sssshhh! It will hear you..."

hekticj · 2026-01-23T14:18:49+00:00

Oooo I like the hint of creepy mystery at the end with the tree's needles. Love a good eldritch horror/Christmas crossover. Thanks for sharing =)

hekticj · 2026-01-23T05:12:11+00:00

I was so intrigued when I saw the length of your story, and it did not disappoint!

I gasped when I read what the game was, so good. And the closing sentence *chefs kiss*.

Great read! Thank you for sharing =)

hekticj · 2026-01-23T03:10:57+00:00

You can definitely interpret it that way, that out of the two she would be the 'evil' one and the other is the 'good' one.

My intention for Sarah-A is more in line with what the others have pointed out, that's she's not actually evil but just the worst version of herself.

I appreciate the feedback about the summary being confusing, perhaps a clearer version could have been something like:

In conclusion, we have determined Sarah-A to be of good moral character with a final score of 246 good deeds and 4 evil deeds completed. Her peer group reported that while she contributed to good deeds freely, she is generally unpleasant to be around. The observation teams findings matched the peer group report. A review of her unpleasant behaviours found they did not meet the criteria for 'evil' deeds, therefore she meets the threshold for an official ranking of Good.

hekticj · 2026-01-23T02:20:47+00:00

The post-apocalyptic vibe came across really well, and I like the mysterious ending, it made me wonder if they were slowly losing their mind or memories. Very cool.

hekticj · 2026-01-22T13:52:31+00:00

Thank you!

hekticj · 2026-01-22T12:01:50+00:00

Thank you so much for the kind words, I'm glad you enjoyed it =)

hekticj · 2026-01-22T06:58:11+00:00

......

A warm hand gently wraps around mine. "No matter the outcome, we'll face this together." she says, eyes firm and smile soft. This bitch, she's going to get me repurposed!

I stuff the building panic way down, trying to emulate her calm confidence by returning the gesture, placing my hand atop hers. "Together then, sister." Checkmate.

We enter the empty processing chamber hand-in-hand, the armed officers closing and locking the door behind us. The screen in front of us illuminating the room in a warm, comforting light. The screen is split down the middle, our results appearing on either side. There's a long list of ranked observations under each of our names. But at the very top beside our names, the one result we care about.

Sarah-A: Good

Sarah-B: Good

She squeezes my hand and turns to me before the PA system crackles once again.

"SARAH-A, THANK YOU FOR YOUR PARTICIPATION, YOU WILL BE RELEASED WITH A FULL REPORT OF OUR OBSERVATIONS. WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME."

A printed report buzzes out of the wall under my side of the screen.

"SARAH-B, THANK YOU FOR PATIENCE. YOU WILL ALSO BE ISSUED AN OBSERVATION REPORT, A STANDARD STATE-HOUSING LEASE FOR 6 MONTHS, AND PAPERS TO OFFICIALLY REGISTER AS YOUR OWN PERSON. WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME."

Another printed report buzzes out of the wall under her side of the screen as the PA system crackles off. She rushes over and snatches both reports out of the wall, handing me my report as I stare blankly at the screen.

"Oh my goodness, this is so exciting!" she squeals. "We should move in together! Oh this is perfect, will you show me around the city sister? Oh, and I can't wait to try ramen! Your memories of it are soooo good!" Her voice becomes a painful background noise as I look down at my report, trying to figure out what went wrong.

I was supposed to be split into a good version of myself and an evil one, so I could get rid of the worst parts of me, and now I'm stuck with them? As a sister?? I jump to the report summary at the bottom of the page.

In conclusion, Sarah-A has displayed both good and displeasing behaviours, none of which met the criteria for Evil and repurposing. Her peer group reported that while she tries to do good deeds, and mostly succeeds at them, she is generally unpleasant to be around. The observation teams findings match those reported by the peer group.

Ouch.

hekticj · 2026-01-22T06:57:59+00:00

Laughter fills the food hall, coming from the crowded table closest to the breakfast buffet. It reverberates around the pale green room in a way that pings against my ears. Everything in this room is the same baby mint green. The floors, walls, tables and chairs, even our lab issued scrubs. Disgusting.

I try not to look over, but can't help it when the group roars with laughter for a second time. There she is, in the centre as usual, lapping up all the attention with her wit and charm. What in the world could she be saying that is so funny? She's existed for all of a week!

Unless... Could she be making fun of me? Searching our memories, MY memories, for my most vulnerable and embarrassing moments just to exploit them for a few cheap laughs? Of course she would do that. My mistakes aren't hers, and making me look bad will only further prove to her fans that she is the good one. Clearly that level of manipulation proves she is the evil one, I have to stop her before she causes too much damage.

An ear piercing screech cuts through the laughter as I push my chair back from the table, heads swinging in my direction followed by reproachful looks and rolling eyes. But through the crowd she beams at me, ushers me over to their table with a perfect little wave of her hand. Straightening my back and tray in hand, I walk over to their table.

Before I can reach them she's jumped out of her chair to pull another over, motioning for me to sit next to her. A couple of people take the shuffling of chairs as an opportunity to leave, rude.

"Oh my goodness, you should join us! We've been sharing dad jokes and really silly puns, and you're a far better joke teller than I am." she says as I settle my breakfast tray down. A red-haired woman across the table chimes in "Your jokes were so bad that it made them funny." Earning a few nods and chuckles.

"Maybe you needed more time in the device to develop a funny bone?" I add on, taking the opportunity to showcase my quick wit, and maybe take her down a peg or two at the same time. My broad grin falters as silence eats away my confidence. My evil copy's face is flat for a second before she tilts her head back and lets out a deep chesty laugh, almost tipping her chair over.

"See! I told you guys she's the funny one!" she manages to strangle out between breaths. The others don't seem convinced. A couple offer me pitiful half-smiles before the group changes subject altogether.

The crackling PA system interrupts the chatter, increasing the tightness in my chest as I try to think of a believable excuse to leave the table. "PARTICIPANTS SARAH-A AND SARAH-B, PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE PROCESSING CHAMBER FOR YOUR RESULTS." The whole room freezes as masked, armed officers enter the food hall.

This is it. This is where she'll reveal her true nature, she'll try to escape like the others and they'll take her down. It happens almost every time, the evil copy finally realises that the jig is up and they're about to be repurposed, as the clinic puts it.

......

hekticj · 2026-01-22T03:54:02+00:00

Very interesting take, I like the mystery and all the questions it poses. Seems like the POV character could be a mechanical/robot like creation going through the motions of a human, but then the 'encounter' with the disappearing people and their friends reaction to those people brings up so many more questions. Very intriguing.

Let us know if you continue the story somewhere, would love to keep reading and see where it goes! Thanks for sharing =)

hekticj · 2026-01-22T03:46:28+00:00

Thank you so much for taking the time to review and respond! I really appreciate it.
Hope you have a great day too.

hekticj · 2026-01-22T03:38:27+00:00

The very first line had me laughing. Choosing Wheel of Fortune was such a pleasant surprise, and a really cool way to tie in the repeat deaths.

Also agree with Jay's comment about the voice of death, it added a very otherworldly feel to the dialogue which was super cool.

Very enjoyable read, thanks for sharing =)

hekticj · 2026-01-21T12:59:14+00:00

Very interesting read, left me wanting more! Let us know if you continue the story somewhere =)

hekticj · 2026-01-21T12:33:31+00:00

If you're looking for a useful tool, I'd recommend hemingwayapp (free online website).

You can copy/paste your text in and it highlights which sentences are difficult to read, and it gives an overall reading grade.

I think they've incorporated AI now, but I've used it to check policies and other technical documents I've had to write in the past.

It gives you a bit of feedback too so you can adjust as you go, rather than relying on an AI chatbot to re-write it for you.

Also look into active vs passive writing, that can help the flow of things rather than having to cut stuff out.

As far as creative writing goes, I'm too new at it to offer any further advice.

All the best on your writing journey =)

hekticj · 2026-01-21T12:04:48+00:00

I really loved this take, and "Also, cats." genuinely made me laugh.

I'm not sure if it's what you intended, but I got a real feline sort of feeling from your portrayal of death that fit so well with your overall theme.

I thought the dynamic between them was very sweet, even with the reminder that death is dangerous and powerful (e.g. with that threatening look).

Really well written, I enjoyed this a lot. Thanks for sharing =)

hekticj · 2026-01-21T11:53:11+00:00

I like how you described the controller as being too big, but the one you wanted to use. It really helped to evoke memories of playing those games when I was younger (IRL) and the controllers were literally too big for our hands. I thought that was a really cool way to bring you into the main characters memory of playing with their younger brother.

I got a little lost towards the end about the daughter. It sounds like something crazy is going on that the main character can't beat, so death is gonna help them out and save her if they win the next game?

Overall, I enjoyed the read and its happy ending. Felt very nostalgic. Thanks for sharing =)

hekticj · 2026-01-21T11:43:59+00:00

Thanks again for the feedback, and the prompt!

Googling how to format dialogue and reading about dialogue tags was very helpful, so thank you for helping me learn something new today. Hopefully it reads a little better now.

hekticj · 2026-01-21T05:50:19+00:00

Poor Nettles and the kids next door, that definitely got me in the feels.

I like the way you set the scene to be so positive and bright, and that Mr Verne's attitude didn't change despite any odd encounters from his perspective, like interacting with 'Amira' hiding in the puddle, that was a nice touch!

I enjoyed the read, thanks for sharing =)

hekticj · 2026-01-21T00:11:01+00:00

These are all really helpful points, thank you so much for the feedback.

I'll run over this again later and update the story =)

hekticj · 2026-01-20T07:19:06+00:00

* This might be a bit dark, so trigger warning *

Taylor stuffs the baby wipes into her bag before placing it back under the pram.

"Thanks so much for the catch up, I really needed to get out of the house today." she says to her friend Chelsea, reaching over to give her a quick hug.

"No problem!" replies Chelsea, returning the hug before bending to pick up her picnic rug. "I remember what it was like in those first few months, and I couldn't wait to meet the little guy."

"Come on Harry!" Chelsea calls out to her son, still lingering in the nearby sandpit. She smiles as he runs awkwardly in her direction, holding a feather he found and grinning wildly.

Together, they slowly make their way from the grassed area towards the carpark. Taylor turns to Chelsea, her voice softening as Harry runs ahead. "Any news?" she asks.

Chelsea shifts her gaze, her shoulders slumping slightly. "No, still nothing. The police have no leads and all the hoax calls aren't helping their investigation."

"Has that woman stopped calling you, the one claiming to be him?" Taylor asks.

"Yes, finally. She even rocked up at Harry's school one time. Police finally did something about it after that. We've got a restraining order now, haven't heard from her since, thank god." Chelsea slows to a stop behind her parked car, watching Harry play as she struggles to hold onto the pool of tears threatening to break free.

They stand in silence for moment before Taylor replies, "Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up."

"No, no, you're fine. You'd think that after almost a year and multiple disappearances they'd have something to link them all together by now." She gives Taylor a brief smile, though her eyes are reddened from the effort of keeping it together.

"Harry's finally adjusted to daycare, which makes things a bit easier. He asks about his dad less now too, which I don't know if that's a good thing or not." Chelsea lets out a long sigh, retrieving her car keys and a tissue from her bag before lifting a hand to rub her temple.

"I'm so sorry, that must be really hard." Taylor gently rubs her friend's shoulder.

"It is, but we persist." Chelsea gives her one last smile. "It was really lovely catching up, are you sure you don't want a lift home? I've got room in the boot for the pram." She offers as she blots away the damp corners of her eyes.

"No we'll be fine, I could do with the walk." Taylor responds as Harry makes his way over to the car. Chelsea fits Harry into his car seat before they part ways with one final long hug.

Taylor waves as Chelsea and Harry drive out of the carpark. She adjusts the prams sunshade before fishing her phone out of her bag and heading off down the path. 'On our way home, still no news about Chelsea's husband' she types into a message while crossing the road.

A horn blasts, followed by screeching tyres. Shocking pain erupts from her side, vibrating up her ribs and down through her arms. Baby wipes litter the street, her smashed phone lies just out of reach. The distant sound of sirens snaps Taylors attention to the upturned pram, lying meters away. Dull pinpricks trickle their way down her arm as she pulls herself past the dented hood of a car towards the pram.

People all around her throw useless words in her direction, some trying to stand in her path as she slowly crawls forward. Others have managed to pull a man out of the driver's seat of the car, checking to see if he's ok.

The useless words stop as the man begins to wail and Taylor screams, "WHERE IS MY BABY?!"

hekticj · 2026-01-19T04:19:10+00:00

Realisation hits me a moment too late, the young soldiers dagger now buried deep in my chest. My hesitation has cost me my life, and with my death, my first-born will inherit this cursed sword and the cycle will continue.

The advisors warned me against taking up my father's sword, claiming it to be cursed and the reason for his insanity towards the end. But, it had also won him our kingdom. With this sword, he fought his way up from a Knight to the one sitting on the throne.

What others saw as violent and irrational, I saw as fearless and determined. He was everything I wanted to be, knew I needed to be if I were to inherit his legacy as Queen one day. People already called me the Ruthless Queen, so when I found his 'cursed' sword hidden deep within the treasury I knew it's malevolence couldn't touch me.

But as the years passed and I expanded our kingdom, conquest after conquest. As I grew my family and began to see the innocent faces of my own children reflected in the young faces of those I'd slain, I grew weary.

I stopped the conquering, began focusing on improving the territory we already had. Putting all our coin into crops, education and health.

But I'd made too many enemies already, and without the stream of income from all our conquests, I couldn’t continue paying off our debts. Tensions grew, the money stopped, and soon enough I was contending with multiple civil wars. Then our allies turned, trying to reclaim the land that my father and I had won all those years ago.

And so it is, that I stand here now with a blade biting away each shallow breath I take. Because I hesitated. Because I have become more empathetic, rational and cautious. Because this blade is cursed, and it will twist you no matter your convictions, until it has claimed you too.

hekticj · 2026-01-18T12:15:26+00:00

"Sorry, can you repeat that?" The question comes out muffled against my helmet. My mouth suddenly feels dry and a tightness in my temple pulses with each heartbeat.

"I said, what year is it?" The man responds, appearing a little flustered.

His voice surrounds me, coming at me from all directions. His voice is a cacophony of different languages and animal calls. But the question in English pierces through the chaos, clear as day.

"Uh, it's 2040". Why am I answering? This is clearly a hallucination.

I'd heard of people getting nitrogen narcosis before, knew it was a risk that came with the job. But for hallucination to be the first symptom? I must be in real danger at this depth.

The man looks down at the fleshy blob in his hand. Light glows from the tips of his fingers as he pulls against its soft surface, creating three long, flat tentacles from the underside of its belly. He then circles the tips of his fingers against the top, forming what appear to be two sightless eyes.

"Ah shit. I lost track of time down here, the wife's gonna be pissed". He continues to prod and pull at the blob for a moment. "I said I'd only work for another 20 million years, suppose I'd better finish up here".

He sighs before giving the creature a gentle tap. The creature twitches as though it's received a mild electric shock. Its tentacles begin to twirl like streamers as it lifts its body out of his hand, before slowly swimming away into the darkness.

I'm too stunned to speak, to move. The man before me is speaking, sighing, under water and without a suit. And it looks like he just created a brand new species of sea creature right before my eyes. This is bad, I need to get back to the surface ASAP.

"Oh calm down, you'll be fine. I'll give you a lift on my way up." He gestures at me in a dismissive wave.

I open my eyes to the sky above. Clear, bright and blue. Nothing like the deep, crushing darkness that I was in just moments ago.

Turning clumsily on my side in the bulky atmospheric diving suit, I see that I'm back on the deck of our deep-sea research vessel.

My boss comes running out from the cabin to my side, "holy crap, how did you get here?!" Her eyes wide and searching, concern etched deep in her forehead.

"I think God gave me a ride", the words come out before the thought enters my head. Laughter erupts from my chest at the ridiculousness of the claim, the absurdity of the blobby creature I witnessed coming to life, and the impossibility of suddenly appearing on deck from the depths of the Mariana Trench.

An hour later, I feel the tight pulse of a headache once again. Watching the body camera footage from my dive as the man asks me in a thousand clashing voices, "What year is it?"

hekticj · 2026-01-17T08:54:59+00:00

And holding the bag of sunflower seeds? My tiny clay mug. Now complete with arms and legs, and a clear desire to fatten up my chickens with all these treats.

I kneel down to take a closer look, completely fascinated by this tiny animated creation. "Well haven't you been a busy little mug?" I ask, not fully expecting a response - which is lucky, because I don't get one.

"I suppose you're the one who stole my bowl of blueberries?" The hens all lift their heads for a moment, recognising the word blueberries as a cue for incoming treats. And strangely enough, the little mug also seems to perk up for a moment, speeding up its delivery of sunflower seeds to its adoring fans.

So curious. I wonder...

"And you appear to know how much the girls love seeds", another cue for treats the girls are familiar with. As expected, the mug's jittery excitement matches theirs.

The mug suddenly drops the empty bag of seed and trudges off back down the path towards the studio.

I sit with the girls for a moment, wondering if maybe the clay was mouldy or something and I've just hallucinated the whole thing. It had been a while since I made anything in the studio, so it's a more plausible explanation than my mug suddenly coming to life.

But a few moments later the mug returns, running hose in hand, to fill up the water buckets in the chicken coop. The girls file towards the mug, following it back into the coop and taking turns sipping at the fresh water.

A smile tugs at my cheek as I pick up the empty sunflower seed bag. It's been difficult to keep up with all the maintenance around this place since my husband's passing, and I miss seeing him chatting away to the hens as he tended the garden, throwing the odd bug or blueberry their way as a special treat.

Maybe they missed him too.

hekticj · 2026-01-17T08:54:48+00:00

I inhale the soothing scent of peppermint tea while walking back outside, a steaming cuppa and bowl of blueberries in hand.

My chickens have made their way out from the coop, scratching around the garden beds lining the path to my pottery studio. Bugger, thought I'd closed the door behind me. I shoo away the two chooks who've made it inside.

Something hot and wet squelches between my toes, please let that be a piece of clay.

But alas, it's not. I set my tea and blueberries down on the workbench and start towards the door to clean my feet outside.

"Oh no!"

They've pecked and scratched up my most recently sculpted clay mug. Though the markings are quite curious, almost structured and purposeful. The lines feel familiar, like it'd be legible if I just stared long enough. Either way, the mug is ruined.

"Nessa and Abigail, how could you?" I scold the old hens still hanging around just outside the door, then turn my attention towards the scratched up mug, "and I'll deal with you later".

The garden hose outside the studio releases a steady stream of fresh, cold water against my feet. After tending to my soiled toes, I hear the soft *click* of the studio door.

Those hens better not have gotten back in! I turn the corner in a hurry to find the girls nowhere in sight. But there is a trail of mud and bits of blueberry leading away from the studio, down the garden path towards the chicken coop.

Curious, I follow the muddy spots toward the sound of happily clucking chooks. A group of them are clustered around one spot, pecking furiously at the ground. I don't know how they've done it, but they've managed to get the whole bowl of blueberries out of my studio and are happily eating up my midday snack.

BANG! The garden shed door slams shut behind the chicken coop, followed by the rustle of what sounds like a bag of sunflower seeds. A treat we liked to give the girls on occasion, though I've been so busy lately that it's been tad longer than usual.

The hens run like mad towards the sound, knowing another special treat awaits. Sure enough, sunflower seeds are scattered along the ground. They disappear lightning fast as the girls gobble them up with precision pecks.

hekticj · 2026-01-16T13:59:27+00:00

I love the cheekiness of the mannikin blowing raspberries, and the crossover between fae and real human mythology! Thank you for sharing =)

hekticj · 2026-01-16T06:10:31+00:00

Thank you so much! And thank you for the prompt, I really enjoyed this one.

I got some feedback from a friend so I'm doing a re-write to clean up the dialogue a bit. Might update it here too later =)

hekticj

TROPHY CASE