Prompt: “Is that all I’m good for? Patching you up? Staying with you when you feel bad? Caring and caring and caring but never getting anything in return? His voice cracked. Tears started rolling down his cheeks. Bitter. Unstoppable. “Is that all I’m good for?”
Derick looked over at Chileana. Once again she was ignoring him, pretending that he wasn’t there, that he didn’t exist, when mere moments before she had been holding onto him tightly, begging in her silent way for some kind of peace, some kind of protection, some kind of healing. He was starting to see a pattern, and it wasn’t the kind he was wanting to emulate further. He was done. He was over being pushed aside. “What’s wrong?” Lira asked, coming up and sitting next to Derick. He had been in a slump all day and she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Chileana was a strong individual who often chose to push people away in an attempt to avoid getting hurt. She would rather be the one to leave than to be the one left, which often led to her pushing people away before they had a chance to push her away. “Is this all I’m good for?” Derick asked. There was no point in beating around the bush or pretending he didn’t understand what she was talking about. Not with Lira. Lira knew too much. She seemed to see and know everything, and would pull it out of him one way or another. Lira didn’t say anything. She simply waited for him to continue. “Patching her up?” he continued, like she knew he would, “Staying with her when she feels bad? Caring and caring and caring but never getting anything in return?” His voice cracked and he cringed inwardly at the thought. He was sounding foolish and he knew it. He was sounding like an overgrown toddler who’s life wasn’t going his way. It was pathetic. After everything that he had gone through, and he still was crying like a baby. Tears began to roll down his cheeks. Bitter. Unstoppable. “Is that all I’m good for?” Derick asked, as he looked over at Lira, his eyes red from tears. He looked so vulnerable, so childlike, Lira couldn’t help but want to put her arm around him and comfort him. “Chilly,” Lira said, taking his hand, “Is never going to NEED you.” And she wouldn’t. Chilly took great pride in never needing anyone. As Derick reeled as if he had been decked by those words, Lira continued, “She won’t. She doesn’t need anyone. However, she WANTS you.” Derick looked at Lira like she was crazy. There was no way Chilly wanted him anymore than she needed him. She had never given him any indication of wanting him around. “And that,” Lira continued, noting his confusion, “Scares her. Terrifies her, in fact. Because she has always taken care of herself, she has always been the strong, I don’t need anyone, don’t have attachments because then you have something to lose and that’s dangerous, kind of person. She’s so used to caring for other people, so used to guarding her own heart, that wanting anyone is terrifying. She feels like she’s losing her control, her power, her strength.” Lira looked over at Derick and smiled sadly. “She loves you and wants you so much that it scares her and she is in this constant tug-of-war with her heart and mind, and sometimes that comes across as going hot and cold on you, allowing herself to be vulnerable one minute and ignoring you the next, as mind and heart struggle for the upper hand.” No. Chilly would never need Derick. She would never need anyone. But want. That was another story entirely, and was, by far, the better motivator.
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Prompt: “Do you ever shut up?”
Felicia could feel the tension start to creep up her neck and she pursed her lips together. She curled her fingers up into a ball, clenching them tightly and hoping that she didn’t end up punching Aiden, although, if he didn’t shut his trap soon, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. “Do you ever just SHUT UP?!” Felicia cried out as Aiden continued to yammer on. She honestly had no idea what he was saying, she hadn’t been paying any attention to the words that he was saying, she just heard the noise and it was grating on her nerves more than nails on a chalkboard. “What?” Aiden asked innocently. The continued words and that smug look on his face, and Felicia couldn’t help it. She hauled back and decked him right in the nose, deriving great satisfaction in the fact that blood was now gushing out of his nose. Prompt: “You remember me?” / “You are the reason I have blood on my hands. The reason I no longer hesitate to pull the trigger. The reason why, even now, three years later, I can’t sleep at night. Damn right I remember you.”
Oberien glanced down at the knife to his throat. After a moment of staring at the blade at his neck, he looked up at the man holding it. “You remember me?” Oberien asked. He had been so young. Oberien hadn’t thought someone so young could have remembered anything. It actually gave him a kind of thrill to know that Danny, this strange, pathetic child, remembered him. “You are the reason I have blood on my hands,” Danny hissed, pushing the knife further into Oberien’s neck, “You are the reason I no longer hesitate to pull the trigger.” After that horrible day, Danny would never again hesitate to pull the trigger. He would never again hesitate to kill. He had learned. Oberien was the reason that even now, three years later, Danny wasn’t able to sleep at night, why Danny struggled with nightmares day in and day out, why Danny trembled at even the thought of sleep. Yet he wouldn’t tell Oberien that. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing such a thing. “Damn right I remember you,” Danny hissed as he sent Oberien to his maker. Prompt: “You need to stop running at some point.” / “But I’m so good at it.”
Saralee raced forward, her feet made a nice crunching sound as they hit the ground as she ran. The rhythm, and the steady beat of her feet and her breath calmed Saralee’s mind. This couldn’t be happening. It was all too much to deal with right now. “You know,” she heard a voice coming from the bushes. She turned to look toward the voice and saw James coming out of the forestry and running with her. Saralee turned her attention back to facing front and continued to run. To Saralee’s surprise James was able to keep up with her pace. “You need to stop running at some point,” James continued, not even sounding breathless from the pace. “But I’m so good at it,” Saralee said. She picked up the pace, leaving James in the dust, at least for a moment. It didn’t take long for James to catch back up with her and continue running at her side. Saralee could have run to the ends of the earth and back and it still wouldn’t be able to wash away the cobwebs. Prompt: “You’re trapped. There’s nowhere to run to now,” he says triumphantly, drawing a knife. / Instead of being intimidated, she begins to laugh, doubling over. / His smile wavers, and she finally straightens up with a grin. / “I have no need to run. Because you see,” she gestures around the small, dimly lit room, “I’m not trapped in here with you.” / faster than he can comprehend, he finds himself somehow disarmed and pinned against the wall, his own knife being held at his throat. She whispers the rest of her declaration in his ear: “You’re trapped in here with me.”
Felicia looked around the jail cell she was in. It was probably the worst cell she had ever been in, and she had been in her fair share of cells. The cold leaked into her bones, making it feel as if her very soul was freezing. She wasn’t sure it was just the coldness of the cell that was causing the freezing ache inside of her, or if it had something to do with the loss of Allen. The door opened and in stepped a young, burly man. He looked as if he could snap Felicia like a twig with his thumb. He smirked at her as he blocked her in, giving her even less space to move around in. She heard the sound of the lock clicking into place, so even if she was able to get past the man, she would still be locked in. The man grinned with a look of pure evil on his face. “You’re trapped,” he mocked, “There’s nowhere to run now,” he triumphantly drew a knife from his sheath. He had promised himself and her that he would get back at her for what she had done to him on the journey back. He would make her pay for killing Allen. He would make her pay for killing his men. He would make her pay for hurting him. He would make her pay. Felicia looked at him as he stroked the knife almost lovingly and reverently. It would be a look that would be enough to intimidate anyone. However, instead of being intimidated, Felicia could feel a bubble of laughter beginning to erupt from inside of her. She began to laugh hysterically and doubled over in laughter. The man’s smile began to waver as he looked at her curiously. That wasn’t the reaction that he had been anticipating. He had wanted to see her wriggle in fear. He wanted to see the panic in her face as she realized what he was going to do to her. Instead, she laughed like he had told her the funniest joke she had ever heard. As quickly as it had arrived, Felicia’s laughter dissipated and she straightened up, a grin still on her face. She felt lighter than she had in days. “I have no need to run,” she said simply, shrugging her shoulders as if his being there was of no importance to her, “Because you see,” she gestured around the small, dimly lit room, “I’m not trapped in here with you.” Faster than the man could comprehend, he found himself somehow disarmed and punned up against the wall, his own knife was held at his throat, making it impossible for him to so much as swallow without getting cut. She brought herself closer to him and whispered the rest of her declaration in his ear, “You’re trapped in here with me.” It was she, that was going to make them pay. Prompt: She was going to get an answer. No matter what it took.
Ava slipped into the bedroom. It was actually harder to do now that she was considered an insider than when she was on the outside looking in. She was watched. Her every move documented. Someone was always keeping track of where she was, who she was talking to, and what she was doing. No one had cared about all of that when she was a simple street urchin, or a thief. She was just about to open his side of the bed drawers when the door opened. Frantic, Ava looked around for some place to hide. Finding nothing, she frantically threw herself on the bed. A temporary look of shock flooded Lord Durnby’s face, but it was quickly erased as excitement raced across his face. He strode like a puffed up peacock toward where Ava was lounging on the bed. He moved toward her. Ava bit back the bile rising in her throat. She was going to get some answers. No matter what it took. It's officially the 5 year anniversary of the starting of this blog!!!! The first anthology is now available on Amazon.
I figured what better way to celebrate this milestone (especially when the first anthology is about Hunter) than with a Hunter's world prompt. While it isn't mainly about Hunter, it is his world, and his family and it seems fitting. See how Felicia takes her power back. Prompt: “You are a warrior.” / “No I’m not….not anymore.” / “You may have laid down your sword, but you are still the warrior this kingdom needs. Now go and prove it to us.” Felicia tossed and turned. She couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Frustrated and unable to try and fight her way toward sleep, Felicia got to her feet and walked out of her room and toward her and Allen’s favorite tree. “Allen?” she asked, seeing him standing there. “You need to go back,” Allen said. “I can’t,” Felicia shook her head. It was too soon. He had just died. She couldn’t go back and face the world. Not yet. “Yes you can,” Allen said. He reached out and took her hands. “You are a warrior,” he said. He knew her. He knew that she had the strength to do this, and more importantly, he knew that she had to do this. There was no other option. Otherwise, he would have died in vain. “No,” Felicia shook her head, “I’m not.” She looked down at her feet. She couldn’t be a warrior any longer. With everyone dead, and so much heartbreak and pain and suffering, she was starting to wonder what it was all for. If her chosen path, her warrior status, her making herself into a weapon, was really worth it. “Not anymore,” Felicia said, answering her own question. At one point in her life, it might have been worth it. After all, it had brought Saralee back to her. It had avenged her father and uncle’s deaths. It had been worth it, at the time. But now, it wasn’t. Now, it had too high of a price, one that was no longer worth it to try and pay. “You may have laid down your sword,” Allen said, “But you are still the warrior this kingdom needs.” They still needed her. They needed a champion. They needed Felicia. “Now go,” Allen ordered, “And prove it to us.” Hunter, James, Saralee, and even Felicia’s father, came out of the shadows. She couldn’t let them down. She couldn’t have let them all die in vain. It was time to get back to work. Prompt: Late that night the hero saw the villain out on the street. And for the first time wanted to turn and run. / They pivoted a second too late, however, and the villain caught their eye before they could duck into the nearest alleyway. / “Fancy seeing you here,” the villain grinned as they walked up behind the hero, following them, “What are – hold on a second.” / The hero gritted their teeth, “What?”/ “It’s hot and humid, and yet you’re trembling.” / “I’m not,” the hero objected. / “I’m not blind, I can see you shaking. And what’s that on your – Have you been drugged?” / “None of your damn business.” / The villain grimaced, “Let me help you.” / Then, upon seeing the hero’s stubborn glare, added, “Please.” / “The hero was silent for a mere moment then forced the villain to lunge forward as they crumbled, unconscious into the villain’s arms.
The world was spinning. Linnair could feel it. Spinning faster and faster. Linnair cut across the street. It probably wasn’t the smartest move, as Linnair was dressed all in black, and there wasn’t so much as a sliver of moonlight to give light to the darkness. But still, they wanted to get home as quickly as possible. As Linnair crossed the street, they saw Marel. Normally, Linnair would have no problem confronting Marel. In fact, Linnair often found it a joy to try and beat Marel. However, tonight was not one of those moments. For the first time since the two of them had met, Linnair wanted to turn and run in the opposite direction; anything to escape Marel’s sights. Linnair wasn’t up for a confrontation that they knew would be coming if Marel saw them there. Linnair pivoted, and tried to start making a run for it, but it was a mere second too late. Marel caught Linnair’s eye before they could duck into the nearest alleyway to avoid the meeting. “Fancy seeing you here,” Marel grinned as they walked up behind Linnair, following them where they went. Marel, not satisfied with talking to the back of Linnair’s head, turned Linnair around so they were facing each other. “What are-“ Marel began. They eyed Linnair curiously. “Hold on a second,” Marel stopped what they were saying, concern starting to creep into their voice. Linnair gritted their teeth, both from anger and to keep themselves from passing out, “What?” “It’s hot and humid,” Marel stated. It was a rather muggy night and the heat was zapping everyone of strength, causing everyone to feel as if they were melting. “And yet,” Marel continued, looking at their frenemy and noticing how hard Linnair was trembling, “You’re trembling.” Marel could almost hear Linnair’s teeth chattering. Marel reached out to put a hand on Linnair’s hand. It was clammy. “I’m not,” Linnair objected. Linnair refused to admit weakness to Marel. Linnair would pretend everything was fine. They had to. If they showed weakness, Marel would win and Linnair couldn’t afford that. “I’m not blind!” Marel interjected, “I can see you shaking.” A blind person in outer space could have seen Linnair shaking. “And what’s that on your-“ Marel asked. Marel knew that spot all too well. They had been the reason for that spot more often than Marel could count. “Have you been drugged?” Marel asked. They didn’t have to ask the question. They already knew the answer. “None of your damn business!” Linnair was starting to slur their words. Linnair’s tongue was beginning to feel fuzzy and too big for their mouth. It refused to work properly. In fact, Linnair’s entire throat and mouth region had seemingly forgotten how to work and Linnair was finding it difficult to accomplish even the simple task of breathing, let alone trying to figure out how to move their tongue and mouth to create words and sounds that even sounded remotely human. Marel grimaced at the sight. They had never seen Linnair so broken before and it nearly broke them. While Linnair might be Marel’s arch nemesis, Marel had found themselves becoming quite fond of Linnair. Linnair was the only one who had given Marel a run for their money. It gave Marel some sport. “Let me help you,” Marel begged. Marel would hate to see Linnair suffer and possibly die because they were poisoned. Seeing Linnair like that just drove Marel into a realization of how much they had come to care for Linnair, for their back and forth. Marel needed it like they needed air. They couldn’t lose Linnair. Linnair glared at Marel stubbornly. Linnair didn’t want Marel’s help. Linnair never wanted anyone’s help, and even if they did want help, Marel would be the last person on earth that Linnair would go to. “Please,” Marel asked softly as they tried to convince Linnair that their help wouldn’t be the inconvenience that Linnair thought it would be, that there was no ulterior motive to the help. Linnair was silent, still staring at Marel. Before Linnair could try to formulate an answer to Marel’s request, Linnair began to fall forward, forcing Marel to lunge forward to grab Linnair, narrowly avoiding Linnair’s head cracking open on the hard cement. Marel adjusted Linnair’s unconscious form in their arms and carried Linnair back to their mansion. There, Marel kept watch over their friend, doing everything they could to help Linnair fight off the poison. With almost sheer willpower Marel brought Linnair out of the land of death and back into the land of the living. And they vowed that whoever had brought Linnair harm would have to deal with the wrath of Marel. Prompt: “Is it enough?” / “No.” / “Good. You should have more reasons for living than me.”
“I love you,” Isolda explained, taking Obero by the hand and looking him intently, “I don’t want you to do this. I don’t want you to die. I want you to stay here, with me, where it’s safe.” Obero looked at Isolda sadly. His jaw moved as he tried to figure out how to explain to Isolda why he had to do this, why he couldn’t just stay here. “It’s not enough, is it?” Isolda asked. She knew exactly what he was thinking. “No,” Obero shook his head. He wished it was enough. He wished her love for him was enough. He wished she was enough. But it wasn’t. She wasn’t. But how could he explain that to her? How did you tell someone that they weren’t enough? “Good,” Isolda nodded her head. It hurt, as it always did when someone said that you weren’t enough for them. That your love wasn’t enough. But she got it. She understood. “You should have more reasons for living than me,” Isolda continued. She loved that he cared. She loved that he was willing to give the ultimate sacrifice. Yet, it still hurt. But she’d be okay. It was something he had to do. I wasn't sure where to go with this prompt. So here it is.
Prompt: Eyes, hats, and knives He pulled the knife out of his hat. He always kept one there. It reminded him of Abraham Lincoln putting things in his hat. Sure, there were always other places to put knives, and he did have them in other places as well, but he preferred his hat. With knife in hand, he stabbed his subject, killing him instantly. Then he covered the man’s eyes, as he always did. |
Skye BallantyneI am very excited to welcome you to my blog! Hope you enjoy! Categories |