LISTEN — a playlist for cottonmouths. a work-in-progress centered between a pair of private investigators hurdling towards divorce. after dodging her calls for weeks, don’s luck runs out when his father is found dead in his own church. some blame the snakes he called to his sermons, but that doesn’t seem to be true. there’s always something more.
Everyone always says to look for the helpers in life, but what if you
want to cause problems on purpose? There’s all kinds of things you could
So I might have a new wip…fUCK
Writing Prompt 562
Person A: Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were married to a demon?!
Person B: Married? You think I’m married to C?
Person A: Well you certainly act like it!
Writing Prompt 561
A sat down at the table across from B, tapping their foot against the floor as they looked down at the table. B looked up from their book, smiling.
“You made it, A.”
“Yes, I did.”
A few moments of silence passed between the two of them.
“So what now?” A asked, looking up.
“We steal old books, that’s what.”
I’ve been wanting to write again. I have lots of ideas but I don’t know where to begin.
1) Skyrim fanfic
This one has been gathering dust for almost a year if not more. I have good ideas for this one but I don’t know how to start the story without making it boring…
I’ve also been itching to write a horror story. Something with Zombies. Not sure if it’s going to be an original or a fan fic. If fanfic then I was thinking maybe Walking Dead or 7 Days to Die.
I recently discovered the genre so I thought it might be fun to try to create a system and write some stories in it. Maybe even develop a system to play with in my roleplaying communities?
i wanted to get this next story posted before the end of the month but that’s probably not gonna happen. the words just aren’t coming and i need to take a break.
a professional writer would probably find a way to force the words out but like, professional writers also get paid
So, this story has been swimming around in my head for a long time and I thought it would just be that, a story in my head that I visit for comfort, boredom, a need to create stories, whatever, but recently I got really inspired and did this, the only semblance of a plot that it has is the setup so that I can just play dollhouse. But I thought I would share.
Summary: The transition is complete. Now Emily will find out if it was worth it.
English is not my first language.
Umbra - Prologue
Emily knew this day would come.
The many PHDs in her wall are not just decoration. She knew as soon as the diagnosis came that there was no hope. And she told David just that in no uncertain terms.
But there was that small, treacherous, part of her brain that refused to give up hope. That Penny would find a way to survive. That she would find a way for Penny to survive. But there wasn’t. And she knew that. But she tried anyway.
David called them “shadow zombies” when Emily tried to explain it to him. She knew he was joking just to get her riled up, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. Zombies are said to be the dead brought back to life. And that’s exactly what the Shadow Substance is capable of. Just not in the way she wanted. And she knew that. She was the head scientist of the study, she knew everything that there was to know about the substance to date. But during the grief and desperation it was easy to believe in the low, low probability that it would work different with humans. That it would bring Penny back. That it was worth trying.
So here she is. In her house’s laboratory. With Penny’s last hope. With her last hope.
“Do you know who I am?” she quietly asked, with her hands trembling and her heart beating at an unhealthy speed.
Penny’s eyes- unnaturally black, but she expected some physical changes -looks up at her to her through the protective barrier. Emily is aware of her every breath as it runs her body up and down. Penny’s head tilts to the side with a curious expression.
And with just two words, all the hope left was crushed to pieces and Emily barely managed to take her chair and fall on it.
Three weeks since she brought her daughter’s body here in a last attempt to save her. Three weeks of nights passed without sleeping, being because of her work, or because the waiting simply wouldn’t let her. Three weeks making David worry about her, just worsening his own grief. She knew this was the most probable case scenario, but still. It hurts. It hurts so much. Penny is dead. Her daughter, her little girl, is truly gone. And she won’t come back.
And now there’s a damn shadow zombie that won’t let her forget that.
She takes a deep breath, and makes her best to regain a little of composure back. This is her fault. Her doing. Now she has to deal with it.
“Sorry. Something just finally dawned on me.” She tried to sound as steady as she could while fervently rubbing her hands on her eyes in an attempt to wipe the tears. She doesn’t remember the last time she cried.
“Ok…” it sounds confused, Emily doesn’t fault it for that, but it doesn’t ask any further “So, can you open this glass? I need more shadows.”
Now that she’s more calm, somewhat, and that the shock of seeing Penny’s body moving has passed, somewhat, she realized that the… thing… has been playing with it’s own shadow this whole time. The scientist in her wondered how long it took to realize that it could manipulate shadows.
“Sure.” a part of her brain warned that she shouldn’t just let it roam free in the laboratory but she was too tired to care.
As soon as she put the command in the computer the heavy door at the corner of started to opening. She panicked for a second, wondering if she just made another mistake.
But the thing didn’t seem interested in taking over the laboratory. As soon as the door opened, it just went straight to the wall desk and started gathering the light shadows that it produced.
With her vision less blurry and a- slightly -clearer mind, she allowed herself to truly examine the shadow being. She took notice of the differences between it and her Penny. And her heart tightened at how healthy it looks. The cheekbones are fuller and it moves swiftly and without any problems. Even the white hair seems more like a quirky in the DNA than a symptom of the illness that killed Penny. And, of course, the skin. She always wondered how it would look on a human skin. Now she has her answer. Penny already had a pretty dark skin but now it got a more gray-ish tom to it. And why does it still look more healthy than Penny ever-
No. No. Emily will not get angry at the inevitability of death. And she will not take it out on the easiest target. She will admit that she was in denial and go straight into acceptance. Easy.
The shadow being had also changed clothes, somehow. Emily’s grateful for that. Small blessings.
“Where did you get those clothes?” she asked, still sounding subdued, but observing the being more keenly now.
“I made them.” it said while directing a frustrated expression to the few shadows that it managed to gather.
Looking more closely, she noticed the unnatural way that the shirt and pants absorbs the light. An iconic characteristic of the SS. The scientist in her was screaming to write down somewhere that shadow beings were able to create other objects with the substance, but she didn’t have the strength to move.
“They’ll be over themselves when they see you.” she muttered. “We didn’t expect to have a human subject for the next couple years, since the body needs to be fresh for the SS to accept. And it would be some time before someone offered their body after death to a project like that. So,“ she added with a bitter laugh “I guess I gave us the best opportunity to further our research faster.”
“That’s good, then” it said as it looked around, going for all of the darkest corners- in comparison -that it could reach. Emily wasn’t sure if it even heard her.
“But…” she didn’t even know why she was telling that to a being that only acquired consciousness through her Penny’s death, but she was “Even if you’re not her anymore… It was Penny’s body’s… my little girl… I can’t just give it to the SS study it seems… wrong…”
“Then…” the thing stopped it’s search through Emily’s cabinet and pitch black eyes turned to her.
It tilted it’s head again, and it’s confused gaze was so genuine and… child-like, that Emily froze in place.
“Don’t… do it?” it said, voice laced with uncertainty and a puzzled look.
She laughed. And cried. She wasn’t sure why either was happening.
“Why do you have to look so much like an actual child?” she tried to shout between sobs, but it just came out as a bundled mess.
“Because I am one?” It said like it was obvious, like Emily was the weird one here.
And then it stuck. Of course. Of course. The Shadow Substance uses others’ previous living beings as a mould to form a more complete consciousness. And since she just offered her 12 year old daughter to it, it- they formed a child’s mind. She hoped that it would be her child’s mind, but she should have known. She’s the head of the study, she knows that shadow beings don’t take all of the previous living creature traits, if it even takes any, outside of the basics of their neurological system. But she chose to ignore that part. And now here she is. With a child- because it is a child, if they’re going to consider shadow dogs, actual dogs, then they’re going to consider shadow children, actual children- that has no idea what permitted their existence.
Maybe it’s guilt. Or some kind of attachment to what was previously her daughter. But either way, she says:
“You’ll need your own name.” and the way they perk up makes the guilt in her chest even heavier.
“I believe we’re in dangerous proximity of a reality-warping entity.”
“Well, take us out of proximity, then!”
“What part of ‘reality-warping’ did you not understand?”
I posted my new fic just to test waters and gather some audience before I start updating it regularly, but the views are growing each day more and more and it’s stressing me out that I can’t bring myself to write and update so I think I’m just gonna unpublish :))))
On the brink of tears
wondering what happened and
if I can fix it
I lit my candle and am ready to not write. Again. 😀
Being a worldbuilder makes you seem extremely questionable.
My last 5 google searches were:
Ones from a while back which is definetly a gem:
“It’s times like these that remind me that we could have just left you where we found you.”
“You could’ve,” she nodded, “and maybe you would’ve been better for it. But you didn’t!”
Her gleeful tone made him laugh slightly. Only she would be able to pull off gleefully cheeky while hanging upside down in an animal trap.
“You’re lucky it wasn’t one of the ones with teeth.” He told her as he began to search for the rope to release the trap.
“Oh, no,” she said, “I would have noticed one of those.”
“But not this?”
She sighed, “I thought it was a snake.”
Rather than laughing or reprimanding her again, he quietly pulled out a knife, sliced the rope holding her up and took amusement from the undignified shriek she gave as she fell.
“Come on, we need to find your mother.”
Her face brightened in the same way it always did when they referred to themselves as her parents and she jumped up, shoving all her hair back when it fell in her eyes. Her first step went very badly, and she fell over again.
“Shut up,” she grumbled when he laughed again, “the blood is still all in my head.”
“You would think you’d make smarter decisions if that was the case,” he teased and wrapped an arm around her waist to stop her from falling over again when they started walking. That didn’t stop her from stumbling for a few steps and tilting slightly until she regained her balance.
They met his wife a little way from camp and she looked both angry and concerned, an expression he hadn’t even known you could make or feel before they’d taken in the little girl they had found in the woods.
“Where have you been?”
“I got caught in an animal trap.” Their daughter informed her brightly and skipped on ahead, leaving him alone to deal with the utter horror that crossed his wife’s face.
“She’s fine. It was just a rope one.”
“I know.” He replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and leading the two of them back to camp, where some of the others had managed to create some sort of stew with the animal that might have been a deer, once, that had been brought back the day before. Their daughter waved from where she had grabbed three seats around the fire, and they settled in to eat.
“You know,” he whispered later, when their daughter was asleep on his shoulder and the fire was burning low, “I think all of this- hell, the apocalypse- might have been worth it, if it gave us her.”
His wife smiled back, “I know.”
Based on the prompt in bold by @givethispromptatry
When he woke up the tree was in the way.
So, swinging his aching body out of bed he trudged around, got dressed, had a small breakfast, picked up his tools and went out to deal with it.
He spent most of the day dealing with it. Almost all of the day, in fact, and he was very sore by the end of it.
Once he’d made sure the thing was properly cut up and tidied away he stripped off and went to bed immediately, exhausted.
He dreamt of quiet days when he didn’t have to do anything.
When he woke up the tree was in the way.