It's not every day you get to see James and Hunter together, especially before Saralee, Jesse, Jordan, and all the rest joined their little group. Well, now you get to see the two best friends in action.
Prompt: “I thought we agreed to tell each other when we were bleeding internally.’ / “That’s a very specific promise I don’t remember making.” James groaned as he collapsed to the ground. Hunter grabbed him by the arm to keep him from falling face first and then slowly eased James down onto the ground to examine James. He didn’t see any specific wounds or cuts that could cause such pain, which must mean that he was bleeding internally. James had been hiding his pain from Hunter for hours. It wasn’t right. “I thought we agreed to tell each other when we were bleeding internally,” Hunter said. Hunter continued to examine his friend and tried to figure out how to help him until they could get back to the medical center and get James taken care of. “That’s a very specific promise,” James gave a slight laugh and proceeded to wince at the pain that it caused, “I don’t remember making.” “Well, you did,” Hunter said, “It was in our contract, in the fine print.” “Well something that important,” James winced, “Should be written in a larger font so I know what I’m signing before I sign it.” “It’s not my fault you don’t read your contracts,” Hunter said with a shrug. He helped James to his feet. This would slow them down, but Hunter believed that he could get James back to the medical center in time.
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Prompt: Did you miss me?
Skye was curled up in her chair with her laptop on her lap as she scrolled through all the paperwork. She was drawn down a rabbit hole of paperwork and she was so deep inside of it that nothing could draw her out of it. Skye felt someone’s hot breath on the back of her neck. She jumped at the sudden feel of breath on her neck and turned to look at the person standing behind her. There was David. In all his glory. Snarling at her. Skye’s heart skipped a beat as it made its way up to her throat as if it wanted to jump out of her body. Her entire body began to tremble as a cold sense of dread washed over her like an ocean pushing her under. She would never be warm again, so deep was the depth of the cold that was settling inside of her. “Did you miss me?” David asked. Chills ran down Skye’s spine at the sound of his voice. She hadn’t heard that voice in years. She hadn’t wanted to ever hear it again, either. “You know you did,” David sneered. He came closer and grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him as he sneered. Skye wished she could talk, but her freeze instinct had kicked in, freezing not only her limbs to the very spot, but also freezing her vocal chords as well. David laughed at her. He relished her pain. He loved that he could make her feel this way, that he could freeze her to the spot, and cause her eyes to widen with fear. “Hey,” a man said, walking in on the two of them. The unexpected sound of someone else’s voice caused Skye’s body to unfreeze. She turned her head to look at her savior. “Is there something wrong here?” he asked. He looked between Skye and David. There was something off about this couple, he just didn’t know what it was. “No,” Skye said softly. Her voice came back slowly. Able to move about again, she closed her laptop, picked it up, and stood up all in one swift movement. “I was just leaving,” she continued. Her voice was stronger this time, more confidant. Trying to hide the trembling in her limbs, she strode out the door. When she was sure that she was away from the building and no one was watching, or following her, she burst into a run. It was time to move, again. Prompt: You find your own suicide note. It is unmistakably your handwriting, it is stained with what can only be blood, and it is dated three days ago.
I was just trying to figure out what I wanted to do when I found a piece of paper on the floor. It was stained with something that appeared to be blood, in fact, that was the only thing that it could be. My heart started to hammer. What was a piece of paper covered in blood doing on my living room floor? My curiosity got the better of my disgust and I picked the letter up, being careful of the bloody parts. Carefully I unfolded the paper and began to read what was written on it. I’m in a dark hole. Everyone keeps telling me that there is a light at the end of this tunnel and I just have to keep plugging away and I’ll find it. But I’ve tried. I’ve tried to keep moving forward. I’ve tried to find that light, but that light that I may have found, occasionally, was nothing more than a mirage. A flickering candle that quickly went out the moment I got there, seeming to plunge me into even more darkness than I was in before. It’s too dark. It’s too hard. It’s too painful. I can’t keep going on like this. I can’t keep doing this. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you, but I just can’t see over the top of this. The only light is the light that I’m going to take. My way to the end. The end. That’s my light, and I’m going to take it. There was no mistake about it, that was my handwriting. I wrote this note. I have no recollection of writing that note. I don’t remember any of it. Then I found the date. It was dated three days ago. I had written this three days ago? And it was bloody. Why was it bloody? I jumped to my feet and raced toward my room. Nothing. No one. As I stepped back into the living room, I saw something that made my blood run cold. There I was. My body. My blood. All over my white carpet. It would be stained forever. Clutched in my hand was my suicide note. I picked up the phone and called 911. I watched as the paramedics swarmed around my body and I was placed in a body bag and carted away. Prompt; “I am not leaving this spot until you are better.”
Hunter opened his eyes and looked around the room. Carrie’s head was leaning against the edge of the bed, holding Hunter’s hand in hers as she slept. Hunter tried not to move his hand. He didn’t want to wake her, but she had some kind of sixth sense, and her eyes popped open and her head jerked upward and she was staring at him. “Hunter,” she smiled sleepily. “Carrie,” Hunter said softly. He could tell he hadn’t used his voice in a while. He tried to clear his throat and get more moisture in his mouth to be able to talk, but nothing was working. Carrie noticed Hunter’s throat working and immediately poured him a glass of water and gently helped pour some water in his mouth. “You should go,” Hunter said, after his need for water was taken care of, “Get some rest. In a real bed.” “I am not leaving this spot until you are better,” Carrie said, shaking her head, and making herself comfortable on the chair next to his bed. Hunter knew that there was no point in arguing with her. At least right now. And he didn’t have the energy anyhow. Fine. He’d let her stay. He actually didn’t mind her presence. It was comforting. Prompt: “Not all of us can just leave the war and buy a bar in the country.” / “You can if you fake your death first.”
Jerome staggered into the old country bar. He needed a drink. A large one. One where he could forget all his problems at the bottom of the glass. As he stepped inside his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. The shock of it was better than any drink ever could. “Audrus?’ Jerome breathed out the word. “Jerome!” Audrus shouted in excitement. He came around the bar and pulled Jerome into an embrace. They hadn’t seen each other for years. Audrus had been hoping that this would happen. He was hoping that he would get to see Jerome again. “What?” Jerome asked, “How? What?” His mind was stuck on stupid. Audrus had died in the war. Jerome had seen it. He had mourned Audrus’ loss. And now, Audrus was here, standing in front of him. Working at a bar. “You work here?” Jerome asked. “Own it,” Audrus smiled. He had been dreaming of buying his own bar for years, and now it was a reality. He and Jerome had been talking about it ever since they had first met. This was perfect. The two of them could run this bar together. “And now you can too,” Audrus said. “Own a bar?” Jerome asked. “Yeah!” Audrus exclaimed. “I can’t,” Jerome shook his head. “Of course you can,’ Audrus said, “You can join me. It’ll be fun.” “No, not all of us can just leave the war and buy a bar in the country.” “You can if you fake your death first,” Audrus shrugged. Jerome stood in front of his friend and thought. Maybe. The idea was rather appealing. Maybe he should. Now all Jerome had to do was plan his death and he too could run away from the war. Prompt: Vacation Mishaps
Whenever I think of vacation mishaps, I think of our conmen. They have the ultimate vacation mishap. They go on a trip of a life time, thinking it will be a great road trip and a fun, bonding time where they can relax and ease some of the tension of school before they get into the real world. However, that all falls apart, and they find themselves getting kidnapped and that mishap leads to a total course correction for their lives and lead them on a journey of a life time. But let's be honest, while vacations aren't quite as bad as that, there are always some little hiccups on a vacation, small mishaps. It's the way of life. Someone gets sick, or a tire blows, or your luggage gets sent to another country....something ultimately goes wrong. That doesn't mean it's not a great vacation. So enjoy your vacations. Mishaps and all. You won't regret it. Prompt: You fight well baby girl but your knuckles bruise deep and his are built like brass. Now, pick up your gun and do what you do best.
He nodded his head as he watched her attack the man that was five times bigger than her. She was doing pretty well in her hand to hand combat. She was managing to hold her own pretty well, but she was starting to get pummeled. He blew the whistle, stopping their fight. When the two of them pulled themselves apart, he walked over to her and dragged her over to the sidelines. She was chomping at the bit, waiting to get back into the ring, ready to attack with a fervor, ready to pummel or get pummeled. “Easy there tiger,” he said, holding her back, “You fight well baby girl,” he congratulated, giving her a pat on the back, “But your knuckles bruise deep,” he looked down at her knuckles that were bruised and battered, “And his are built like brass,” he continued, looking over at the man. He was also chomping at the bit to get back into the ring and fight to the death. “Now,” the man said, turning to look at her, “Pick up the gun,” he pushed a gun into her hand, “And do what you do best.” She looked down at the gun that was now in her hand. Looking up at him to make sure she was understanding what he meant. With his slight nod of confirmation, she gripped the gun tighter and went to do what she did best, what she was trained to do. Prompt: Mundane work day turns into something more.
It started out as an ordinary day. Nothing big or exciting. Just a simple, normal day at work. It was actually pretty boring. Paperwork, and more paperwork, and twiddling my thumbs as I waited for something to happen. I could have fallen asleep. I think I almost did, once (but keep that a secret. I don’t want my boss to find out about that). Anyway, I was just mindlessly playing with my pencil when there was a loud explosion, that knocked me off of my chair and onto the floor around me. I can’t remember what happened, it must have knocked me unconscious because the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes and looking around me. Gone was my office. I was in a meadow. Surrounded by people. Well, I don’t know if I would call them people. They were like fairies, I guess. They pulled me to my feet and dragged me to their leader. And that, my friends, is how I got commissioned to be the right hand man to the fairy king. Prompt: Picture prompt
Ryland rushed wearily toward Pearl’s side. As he reached her, he fell to his knees. Pearl wrapped his arms around Ryland’s head, running her fingers through his ratted hair as she comforted him. After a moment of standing like that, Pearl sunk to her knees as well, clutching him even more tightly and bringing him out his dark abyss. I'm sorry it's so late. But hey, better late than never, right? So here we are :) with today's prompt. It is a perfect fit for the story that I've been working on. I'm stoked! Hope you enjoy it.
Prompt: Were you ever going to tell me? Paige stared at the man standing in front of her. Her jaw was on the floor as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing. She couldn’t wrap her mind around what was happening, and what she was seeing. “Were you ever going to tell me?” Paige finally choked out the words. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Castien said, his face full of shame. “Really?” Paige pursed her lips and nodded her head as she bit the inside of her lip, “Then how was it supposed to happen?” “Well,” Castien said. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy spending time with Paige. None of this was supposed to happen. It was supposed to have been a simple task. Bring Eira back. That was it. Hurt Eira. Bring the kingdom down. And maybe Paige, if Eira couldn’t be found. He shouldn’t care. But he did care. Paige had grown on him. He found himself enjoying her company. He didn’t want to hurt her. Yet, here he was. Hurting her. Terribly. “I’m sorry,” Castien finally finished. The words felt so inadequate. They were so inadequate. A simple apology couldn’t make up for everything that he had done, all the pain she had been through, all the pain that he was responsible for. “You’re sorry?” Paige raged, “Sorry? Really? That’s all you have to say for yourself?” She shook her head and bit her lip. This couldn’t be happening. “It’s just,” he tried to explain. Paige shook her head again, cutting off his explanation. “No,” she said, “No. You know what, I don’t want to hear it. Okay? Save your explanations and apologies for someone who actually cares and believes them. Because I don’t. I’m done.” She crossed her arms around her chest to try and bring some kind of comfort to herself as she turned on her heels and stormed off, leaving Castien in the dust. |
Skye BallantyneI am very excited to welcome you to my blog! Hope you enjoy! Categories |