Nightmare Writing Prompt

Happy Typing Tuesday!

I hope everyone had a great New Years and I hope everyone is excited for what the new year could bring us. I know I am!

I’m planning on buying my first home, and going to Hawaii for my first wedding anniversary.

Now for what you’ve all been waiting for: the prompt.

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Creepy. I think this one is going to be a good one.

Now remember when you finish the prompt you can link back to this post and have other take a look. And don’t forget your post could be featured on my Sunday post.

Now go get those creative juices going and type.

The Magician

So we finally finished our little short story from last Tuesday’s prompt. If you don’t remember it is:

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Now we might have made the child a little older but it sparked an idea for my husband. The main character of this short story is actually the antagonist of a book he is currently writing. He thought it would be cool to do and help him relate more to the character. Enjoy!

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When people think about magic they think of pulling a rabbit out of a hat. They fall victim to slight of hand tricks, but real magic is far more impressive. Real magic exists but not everyone has this magic, it’s as rare as a unicorn. I’ve never seen an actual caster perform, they are always common tricksters.

A few of my friends had convinced me to go to a show, held at a local theater that housed over one thousand seats. The headline of the night should have read Pathetic tricks that take no real skill.

“I can’t believe we finally got you to come Devin. Last week this guy was doing the coolest fire tricks.” Ellen boasted with enthusiasm; somehow entertained by the idiocy.

“The tricks are stupid, it’s not like it’s real magic.” I grunted as we pulled into the parking lot.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you just to believe?” Steve questioned, narrowing his eyes as he slid into a parking spot in the full lot.

“I believe in plenty of things but I don’t see the point in this crap.” I pointed out as we all got out of the car and turned to check out the Red Theater.

The building was old but solid, standing taller than the buildings surrounding it. Even with the updated lighting and billboards it still gave off the illusion of being taken back in time. The building had been updated multiple times over the years but they did their best to keep it as original as possible.

We didn’t talk as we waited in line to have our tickets scanned. Everyone around us was peering around, eyes wide with excitement.

“To get to your seats please enter through the door near the concession stand and someone will escort you.” An older lady smiled as she ushered us in.

Steve took off for the concession stand like a dog that hadn’t eaten in days, with a shrug Ellen and I made our way towards our seats.

I cursed under my breathe as I realized that we were in the front row. At least the magician might be able to see my digust.

Steve sat down sporting two bags of popcorn, some candy and an obnoxiously large drink just as the lights around us started to dim. Everyone in the audience quieted down as the so-called magician took the stage.

“Hello, ladies and gentleman. I am the Great Hoosweeny!” He stated taking a long bow causing he audience to burst into applause.

Great Hoosweeny my ass. There’s not a thing great about him.

He performed trick after trick each time bowing as though he had accomplished some great task. How is any of this entertaining when one simply just needed to unlock something or push something up your sleeve? Even the tricks that seemed more magical were just simple tricks with wires and strings.

“For my last magic trick of the night I’m going to need a volunteer from the audience. Of course I’ll be picking completely randomly, I assure you.”

People jumped out of their seats hands raised high in the air begging to be chosen.

“How cool would it be to be sawed in half?!” Steve declared trying to get the magician’s attention.

“I really just want to touch his cape.” Ellen whispered to me with a wink.

“You there, come up here.” Hoosweeny pointed toward us.

Ellen stood up with a smile waving towards the audience members.

“No, no. The one in the middle. The one that looks like a non-believer.” The pudgy man laughed causing Ellen to drop into her seat like a sack of potatoes.

I really, really wish I hadn’t let them talk me into coming. I definitely did not want to be part of this trashy show. Steve pulled me up ushering me to the stage. My feet dragged as I made my way slowly up to stand next to the fake.

I suppose I could have a little fun with this.

Every time he tried to pick something up I made it float away. He continued to smile for the audience but up close it was undeniable that he had no idea what was going on.

“What the-“ His words were interrupted as I made one of his gadgets malfunction, shooting cream into his face.

My bad.

I spent the next few minutes doing my best to make him feel like an idiot, but every time something weird happened it just made the audience clap harder. He tried to whip his hat onto his head but the hat refused to sit tight, floating away every time he let it go.

He finally gave up and pulled out a deck of cards, when he pulled one out to show the audience a small explosion cracked causing him to drop all the cards on the floor. When they landed I waved my finger slightly making them swarm around him smacking into his face over and over.

Somehow he managed to make all of my tricks look like he had caused them to happen. No one seemed to see his as the fraud I wanted them to see.

“Thank you all, and have a wonderful night.” He wrapped up the show, bowing deeply as one by one everyone in the crowd stood up to clap.

Is everyone really this foolish? How could they not decipher between the real magic and the fake tricks that he had actually performed.

It was like a fire was suddenly light inside me, I had been the one to pull off the cool tricks. Not this stupid swine that was waving from the stage.

I swung my hand wide causing the magician to smack into the wall behind him. The crowd gasped as I pushed him up into the air, no longer trying to hide my power. I pushed down causing him to slam into the ground, the impact spraying blood across the black curtains.

Multiple people screamed and they began pushing each other towards the doors. The room suddenly stood still as I cast one of my specialty spells. My ability to freeze time while leaving the person aware was something that I had created to terrify my enemies.

“Calling the pathetic tricks this idiot performed tonight magic makes me sick. Thinking magic is cheap tricks is stupid. If any of you survive the night you will tell people that you saw real magic.” I stepped up to the microphone pausing to look around the theater.

My friends that I had come with were no where to be found, they must have bolted when I slammed the man against the wall. I could see the terror in the moving eyes of audience and smiled wickedly.

“And now, for my last trick of the night…” I boasted sarcastically as I waved my arms conjuring a long trail of fire completely under my control. It slithered along the floor of the stage igniting everything it touched.

I no longer cared if any of these people survived or not. With another wave my fire separated a pathway to the door and I walked out.

Turning just as I exited the door I called out, “Good luck to you all.” And I sealed the door with flames not bothering to undo my spells. Even if none of these fools live, the world will know my name.

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Remember if you wrote a short story for either of our Tuesday’s prompts post one of your links in the comments of them. You can find the magician one here. And you can find our newest one here.

I hope everyone has a great New Years Weekend!

Happy Typing Tuesday

I hope everyone had a great holiday, I know I did. I’m typing this on my new laptop! Does anyone have any fun plans for New Years? My husband and I are just planning a low-key relaxing New Years with just each other. Our first New Years as husband and wife. 🙂

I did not post a Feature on Sunday since everyone (including myself) was busy on Christmas Eve, but I will post one this upcoming Sunday.

It’s almost time for the prompt. Remember this is for you writers out there, or just people who enjoy writing in general. Take the posted prompt and run with it, leave a link to your post with your short story on this post or just message it to me. It could end up on my Features Sunday.

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I think this one will be really fun. Can’t wait to see what you all come up with.

 

Fairy Lights

So, I’m kind of playing with a fairy story. I haven’t gotten very far and let’s face it will probably change this scene like twenty times but I decided to let people read this rough first draft and get some reactions.

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I love the feeling of my long black hair tickling my lower back, it was soft and comforting. Not long ago I wore it short, trying to hide its odd coloring from my town. In a sea of bright pink, blue, red and purple hair black was hard to hide. Eventually I realized that it was impossible and grew it out.

Just on the outskirts of town my little cottage stood almost buried beneath the trees and plants. As a fae my love for gardening and nature was a given; in fact that majority of abilities end up being related to nature somehow. Except for me.

My magic causes death, and decay. One wrong touch from me and that was it.

Honestly, I’m pretty sure they only let me live here because they are afraid of what I might do if I was fully cast out.

“You have a beautiful garden.”

I jump, my water can clanging against the stepping stones. No one ever came near my cottage.

“I’m sorry, did I startle you?” A playful smirk sat on the intruders full, cherry red lips. He leaned his tall frame against my white fence.

How odd that a human would have wandered here, his blonde hair marks him as someone not from my village. In fact, I’d never seen a human in our village before.

“No, sorry. Thank you.” I mumble, stooping down to pick up my now empty watering can. I turn and fill it up, expecting him to be gone when I turn back. “Can I help you with something?”

His laugh is deep and musical; he cradles a low hanging red apple. “May I?”

I nod. He gently plucks the apple from its branch and bites into it. The juice runs from the corners of his mouth as he gives a low moan of delight. I can’t say I blame him, my apples are delicious.

“I’m Micah.” He announces as he takes another crunchy bite.

“Ember.”

He finishes the apple and tosses it with precision into the compost pile across the yard, licking the last of the juice from his lips.

Another set of voices break our awkward silence when two girls round the corner they stop abruptly and glance between Micah and I. Their blue and pink curls bounce as they turn to each other and the whispers begin.

I can’t help the heat as it rushes to my cheeks, glancing away I hope he doesn’t notice but of course he does.

“Can we help you?” The blue-haired girl squeaks with a smile, twisting one curl around her finger.

“No, thank you.” His voice has lost all its warmth as he turns his back on them.

The girl steps towards him, hands on her hips as she glares my way. “You shouldn’t waste your time here. It’s dangerous.”

“In case you didn’t hear me the first time, I do not require your assistance. I find it extremely rude for you to speak to Ember this way, you should apologize.”

She shrinks back under his larger shadow, eyes wide as she gazes between the two of us. Her friend pulls her away and they rush away.

As soon as they are out of sight his entire demeanor changes. The hard look in his eyes is replaced by a content look, maybe even a little interest. His shoulders release the tension and relax.

“They were extremely rude. How distasteful.” His tongue clicks twice as he shakes his head. He grasps the top of my fence as he leans over it.

“It’s nothing.” I finish watering my dark red tulip caressing it gently. My favorite flower.

“I disagree.” He glances at a silver watch, “I am sad to say I have to go, but I’ll be seeing you.”

 

That night a scream silences the creatures of the night, it pulls me out of bed and into the square. There are people everywhere and I flip the hood of my long coat over my head. Sometimes it’s easier to remain unseen.

A gasp escapes me as the center of town comes into view; dark liquid is pooled around a broken, twisted body. Curls of blue peak out and I creep closer. The dead girl is the same girl who had interrupted Micah and me.

They are going to think I did this.

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For some reason I cannot get fairies out of my head. Worth some fun to try.

Typing Tuesday’s prompt from us is coming next week. 🙂 I’m hoping I get some linked back posts soon. If you wanted to participate in that go right here. Link up your blogs for a chance to be featured in my features Sunday.

She Had Enough

She stole the gun from the safe while he slept. It was heavy in her hands; she felt a rush of fear and excitement. The handle was a dark, reddish brown with a sleek silver body. He had been so excited when he brought the revolver home, telling and retelling how he had haggled with the seller until it was almost a steal.

He was even more excited when he had pulled it on her for the first time. His smile and eyes had gone so wide she had closed her eyes and prayed.

Margo had finally had enough. She flicked open the chamber clumsily. She had never been allowed to touch it before but she had seen him play with it enough to understand. There was still one bullet. The very bullet just moments earlier he had decided to play Russian roulette.

Not that he played it right; he only ever aimed it at her temple.

Tonight there was no dinner plate on the table when Scott had gotten home from work. And to him that was unacceptable. No wife of his would be sitting at home doing nothing all day.

The loud clank of the chamber being pushed into place made her freeze, watching him cautiously as he mumbled in his sleep. When he rolled over with a loud snore her body relaxed.

She quickly clicked the safety off, her tiny hands trembling as the adrenaline pushed through her. Her short legs moved slowly as she walked up to his side of the bed, lifting the gun higher and higher until it was pointed directly at his face.

He was still handsome, even more so now, with his slightly wavy dark brown hair. He kept it just long enough that the tips hit his eyes. His jaw was wide, strong. Just a few wrinkles around his eyes.

Looks can be deceiving.

When he was angry his face twisted until it looked like he was wearing a horror movie mask. It was like someone else had come in and replaced him, an excuse he used a couple of times.

The seconds ticked by until they became minutes, the gun was getting harder and harder to hold up. All she needed to do was pull the trigger and it would all be over. He would never again hit her, or threaten her life. He would be dead.

She couldn’t do it. She rushed into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. She hardly recognized herself anymore. Her right eye was completely red, the skin beneath it setting into a deep purple. Blood crusted around her swollen upper lip, cut across the bridge of her nose. She touched it gingerly, another break.

Scott’s face appeared behind her looking at the gun in her hand with undeniable rage.

“How dare you touch my gun!” He bellowed, storming towards her. He was a big man, standing over six feet tall, and his long legs made him quick.

His thick fingers gripped her neck and squeezed as he tried to rip the gun from her hands. It smacked into the ground and skittered across the bathroom floor. He lifted her into the air, listening to her gargle for air. As she raked her fingers across the back of his hand he tossed her to the side like a rag doll.

She peered quickly to her right; the gun was mere inches from her. She jumped towards the gun and landed on top of her as he bent over her.

Margo swung the gun up and fired. The bullet slide effortlessly into his body; he shuddered reaching up towards his wound before collapsing on top of her.

It was finally over.

 

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Abuse is never a joke. If you or anyone you know is experiencing abuse there are lots of different ways to find help. You are not alone.