i-respond-to-writing-prompts

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

"I've told you to stay away from those creatures!"

""But they're so cute! Look at them, walking around on their hind-legs. So adorable. And they're always covered up, probably because they have no fur. Poor things must be freezing!"

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

A prompt from a friend of mine:

"Now be careful, that line of rock salt is the only thing keeping them out," the man said, welcoming my group into his refuge.

"Sea salt," I clarified, "sea salt keeps us out.”

And my response:

His face blanched. “...us?”

“That’s right.” I grinned, letting my teeth shift out of the illusion just a little. “I’d encourage you not to scream. Don’t sound any alarms. Just keep walking.”

The man’s mouth hardened. He pushed his wide-times glasses further up his nose and shakily said “No. I can’t do that.”

This time, it was my eyes that reverted to their natural form. They were a mirror image of his, black where there should be white and pale blue where there should be brown. Of course, ‘should be’ was a relative term. I was normal to my kind. To these smelly creatures, however, my companions amd I were monsters in disguise.

“Listen, bub. You either let us in or we break in. Is that what you want?” I threatened.

He didn’t answer.

“Alright, you’ve made your choice.” With own swift movement, I’d thrown my hand over his face, the delicate threads of my power sinking into his skull and knocking him unconscious. I tossed his limp form to one of my companions and told him to hide it, dropped the illusion entirely, and led them through the hallways.

It was the middle of the night, and the man on guard had been the only gatekeeper. That meant we had a straight shot to our target.

My friend, a beautiful green-skin, used a hand to sense through the doorways. That was her power. “Next one.” She kept saying. “Next one.”

“We’re running out of time.” I told her.

“Relax. It’s this door.”

I threw it open. Boxes and boxes lined the walls. One of the rookie agents, a red-skin, asked “what is it? Guns? Slings?”

“No, you dafter.” I tossed open a lid to ensure I had what I wanted. “It’s food.”

Say what you want about my kind, but if you asked me, any smelly human who had the nerve to keep this much perfect food stored in boxes while my people starved was a psycho. It was bad enough they drove us into caves. Bad enough that they called us beasts and used our hides for rugs and tunics. But to purposefully poison the soil, making their salt-walled ‘sanctuaries’ the only places on the whole planet capable of growing food? That was a step too far.

We made it out of the facility, lugging as many boxes of food as we could carry. I hoped that idiot guard with the glasses got fired for letting us in. I hoped they’d put someone equally dumb on shift next time.

“Still don’t see why we didn’t grab their slings.” The same red-skin rookie whined.

“Let me tell you something, friend. Wars of the underdogs aren’t fought with slings or guns. They’re fought with strength in numbers. Tonight, we take care of our own.” My eyes glazed over as I thought of my own, a sweet daughter brutally murdered by the humans.

“But soon.” I continued, suddenly jealous of the red-skin’s innocence. “Soon we’ll fight back.”

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

The last place I imagined myself being at the dawn of the apocalypse was camping.

I stared out the window, wide-eyed. The mechanical monsters lumbered past, their long, spindly legs carving divots in the soil. They looked like enormous bacteriophages. Something straight out of the conspiracy books.

I patted around behind me, eyes never leaving the metal beasts. I found what I was looking for, raised it to my mouth.

“Marv, you’re not gonna believe this.”

“I know, kid.” Marv’s voice said from inside my long-distance talkie. I didn’t trust cell phones. Neither did he. “I’m seein’ it on the news right now.”

“Give me stats,” I said, scrunching my shoulder up to hold the talkie against my ear while I dug through my knapsack. Duct tape. No. Rechargeable solar batteries. No. A box of padlocks. Why do I even have those?...Here it is.

“They’re across three states right now, and aren’t stopping. Authorities are trying to find the epicenter as we speak.”

“How many are there?” I asked, readying the scanner id taken from my bag. I’d built it myself. It was specialized for incognito x-rays of anything metal, designed to see inside any technological being that stood as a threat.

Okay, so maybe camping wasn’t the last place I planned for the apocalypse starting.

“Hundreds. Maybe thousands. Looks like we were right, huh kid? All those years of snipe-hunting finally paid off. You know what they’re made of?”

“I’m about to find out. There’s one right in front of my camper right now.”

“Aw geez. You better stay safe...” his voice dropped off as I set the talkie down, opened the window, and stuck the scanner out. Five seconds. Fifteen seconds. Thirty seconds, and I brought it back in. The letters and numbers blinked rapidly as my machine sputtered out an analysis of the loud, metal bacteriophage.

I raised the talkie to my ear. Marv was ranting about some theory, which was good, because it meant I hadn’t missed him saying anything I hadn’t already heard a million times before.

“It’s an aluminum alloy.” I interrupted. “Unidentified energy type, but a visible energy source. There’s a core under its eye—er, sensor. Five limbs on ball-bearing joins, also aluminum. It’s...Marv I think it’s actually thinking. It’s not taking orders from any signal. It’s completely independent.”

“Fascinating.” His voice crackled. The signal on my talkie wasn’t great. I lifted it closer to my mouth.

“I don’t know if they’re hostile or not.”

“Oh they’re hostile. Blowin’ up a city in Minnesota on the news.”

“Then either these ones haven’t spotted me or I’m not a big enough threat.”

“Either way, you should get back to base. Stay safe out there, kid. I’ll see you soon. Marvin out.”

With a heavy sigh, I put the talkie in my pocket. I threw open the door of the bedroom in my camper, heading immediately for the drivers seat. “One week.” I grumbled to myself. “I just wanted one week of vacation.”

I chastised my thoughts. This was the event I’d been waiting for and predicting my whole life. They’d called Marv and me crazy. Who’s crazy now?

I started the engine. My camper began its chugging, first-gear journey, but never got the chance to switch into two. The nearest mech turned around and spat a laser right at my windshield. The ray and a load of shattered glass hit the seat next to me. I swore loudly and stomped on the gas. Some of the other mechs turned my way, but I was already hightailing it out of the area. A laser singed my bumper.

I turned the wheel ninety degrees, careening south. The interstate was bound to be locked up. I’d have to take the backroads all the way to base. Another laser hit the camper’s backside. I had to get out of here.

I drove serpentine, ignoring the sounds of the cupboards vomiting all my pots and pans onto the hardwood. A glance in my rear view mirror confirmed I had no tail, but I didn’t stop driving until the mechs were completely out of sight.

It took twenty minutes and an unholy amount of canned tea to wash the adrenaline out of my system. I cruised on the backroads, mind going a million miles an hour. Everything I’d hoped for, everything I’d feared, was about to come to pass.

The technological apocalypse had begun.

Visual Writing Prompt #499

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

When you forget your phone downstairs but you’re comfy in bed.

Visual Writing Prompt #467

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

And that’s how I became a fae hunter, folks.

One night, you decide to put your phone under your pillow. When you wake up in the morning, your phone is replaced by cash totaling what you paid for your phone. Turns out the tooth fairy takes more than just teeth.

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

My eyes move up the massive creature slowly. First, I see its curved ivory claws, then its green stomach. A long, twisted neck leads to a big head with multiple rows of teeth sticking out. The space around it is filled with a bright green luminescence. The field it sits upon glows too. It isn’t looking at me, at least I don’t think it is until it speaks.

“Come closer, my dear child. You’re late.” I see its jaw move up and down, but I can’t see its eyes. Is it talking to me?

"Of course I’m talking to you! Really, Aaron, it isn’t kind to play tricks on such an old—“ The creature cuts off as it sees me, a scrawny village girl in a tattered blue nightgown, definitely not what it was expecting.

“Hm…” It’s booming voice hums. “What a curious predicament.”

I stand transfixed by its gleaming yellow eyes. They are beautiful, and yet terrible. I stammer “Who…who are you, strange beast?”

“Beast? Beast! What a preposterous term! My dear, I am no beast.”

“Then what are you, strange…sir?”

“Why, I’m a dragon!” Two green sheets shift behind his shoulders. I realize they’re wings. “You’d think they’d ought to educate the children nowadays. Even Aaron didn’t know who I was when he first met me.”

“Aaron…” I vaguely remember hearing the name. “Is Aaron young, like me?”

“Yes.”

“Is he fair, with dark hair?”

“Yes.”

“Does he always carry a green satchel?”

“Why, yes! I do believe you know him.”

“I did. He went missing two weeks ago.”

The dragon frowns and the row of teeth poking over his jaw firm a downward arch. “Two weeks…could it really have been two weeks? A dragon can't go that long without a proxy.”

“A proxy?” I ask.

“A person who goes to the village for me. Gets me fish to eat, scrolls to read, that sort of thing. A proxy.”

“Why can’t you get those things yourself?” I ask.

The green sheets twitch as he chuckles. “Have you ever seen a dragon in the market?”

“Well…no.”

“Say…” The dragon mumbles, and stretches his serpentine neck close enough to me that his low voice ruffles the fringe of my nightgown. “You look like a nice little human. Would you like to be my proxy, since Aaron is missing as of late?

“Oh, n-no.” I stammer, frightened by his sharp teeth, glowing eyes, and ability to make the world around me feel unnatural. “I could never—“

“Nonsense! You’ll do spectacularly. Yes, yes, I have decided. You will be my new proxy.”

If you’d like to read the rest of this short story, check it out on my wattpad account Moonbyte1803. ;)

You’ve lived your whole life in a small cottage, isolated from nearby townspeople. Every night, the fields further up the mountains glow in a bright green shade, but your family has always warned you to not go into there after sunset.

One evening, you finally succumb to your curiosity and decide to venture out into the fields. You wait until your family is sound asleep, and sneak out at late hours. The closer you get to the glow, the weirder reality seems to feel. 

Then, right before you, stands something unimaginable…

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

I came home, tossed my keys on the counter, and sighed loudly. Thirteen hours was too many hours to work. All I wanted to do was collapse on the couch and watch a good show, but as I turned into the living room, I was met with a foul stench.

A tall being cloaked in shadow stared at me from the corner. It’s eyes were no more then twin balls of faint yellow-white. The stink increased as I approached, and a throaty growl emanated from it.

“Oh, hey Carl.”

The creature blinked once, twice, then rasped “mortal, we have talked about this.”

“Yeah I know” I say, snatching the unfinished bag of chips off the ground and flopping onto the couch. “But since you won’t tell me your real name, Carl will have to do. I don’t believe in all that ‘centuries old’ crap, and until you stop acting like an overgrown emo, I get to call you whatever I want.”

Carl growled, a terrible sound that would have made my hair stand on edge had I not heard it a million times before. The glass of soda on the table rattled from his discontent. I shot him a glare.

“Dude. Get over it. This is my house, and you go by my rules. Don’t care how old you are. Don’t care how powerful you are. My. House. ”

Carl did his best to replicate my ‘done with you’ face, but with his glowing eyes, the effect just wasn’t the same. He sighed, a sound like wind hitting an out-of-tune harmonica, and asked me “How was work, mortal?”

“Worse than you’d believe. Now move over, you’re blocking the TV.”

Carl stepped to the side, and after the sticky smoke of black he left in his wake faded, I switched on the TV. “Let’s see...” I mumbled. “Anything good on?”

Carl’s eyes glowed brighter in anticipation, but I silenced it with another glare. “We are NOT watching the Mothman documentary again.”

“I knew mothman. He was fine company.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say man” I shoved a couple more chips into my mouth. “Whatever you say.”

Visual Writing Prompt #430

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

I grumbled, putting my head in my paws. “Yerel, humans are dangerous. You may NOT go around adopting every single life form you encounter!”

“Oh, they can’t be THAT dangerous. They don’t even have claws.” Yerel looked down where three ivory claws came out of his aquamarine fur. “I think I could handle myself.”

“I’ve studied them.” I told him. “They’re worse than you think. Their species took over their whole planet, killing most life on the way. And if that wasn’t enough, now they fight with each other! I hear they’re trying to get off the planet.” I shuddered, imagining them finding our home.

“Cool! They’re getting so smart.”

“Yerel...”

But Yerel wasn’t paying attention. He was staring down at the human, dangerously close to the edge of our cloaked ship. I was about to pull him back, but then he did the stupidest thing of his life.

He jumped off the edge.

“Yerel!!” I shrieked, bolting to where he’d disappeared. I saw him hit the ground, long legs cushioning him. He smiled down at the puny, 6 foot tall human.

“Hello.”

The human’s scream was impressive for something of its size.

Yerel tried to apologize, but the human kept shouting things and waving its naked arms haphazardly. More of them came out of their cottage, joining the fray. Yerel was backing up as they advanced, but I was no longer watching. I had ran to the pilots’ quarters, desperate to find the tractor beam.

Finally I spotted the red button. I readied it, yelled down to Yerel, and switched it on. The ship rocked as it pulled him upward, And I heard his cries of protest.

“Shut up, you big oaf” I growled, amping the beam’s strength.

By the time he was inside, I had a rant waiting on my forked tongue. I was about to start my lecture, but I noticed him staring at his paw. I could see a tuft of brown fur between his claws. To my horror, He turned his paw around to reveal a tiny, unconscious human. He smiled.

“I got one.”

"I've told you to stay away from those creatures!"

""But they're so cute! Look at them, walking around on their hind-legs. So adorable. And they're always covered up, probably because they have no fur. Poor things must be freezing!"

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

“A bold choice.” He looked at me, quill-pen resting above the clipboard. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” I said through my teeth.

He sighed, but marked something on his clipboard and motioned me inside.

The Arena was hotter than I expected. There were so many sweaty people leaning over the bars, ready to see their Champion rip civilians apart. The whole situation was intoxicating.

In the ring, the Champion was battling a strong-looking man. Dressed in little more than a loincloth and brass knuckles, he threw punch after punch at the Champion. It looked impressive, but I knew it wouldn’t matter. After a minute, the Champion picked him up by one wrist and slung him aside. He crashed outside the ring and an ear splitting buzzer rang.

Two more challengers faced the Champion. A man and a woman, clad in armor that failed them as soon as it met the fist of their opponent. The Champion roared and threw his bloody hands in the air. The crowd went crazy. His eyes then fell on me. It was my turn to face him.

He probably thought he’d seen my kind before. The man at the gate had written that my only inspiration was my willingness to die. Boy, was he wrong. I didn’t mean ‘depression, the state of mind.’ I meant ‘depression, the power of condensing atoms into smaller places than they were meant to go.’

No, the Champion had never seen anyone like me.

He laughed as I approached, undoubtedly noting my small size. I just raised one eyebrow, readying myself to feel the power flow through me. It was hard sometimes. But it was worth it to finally kill this brute.

He attacked immediately after I’d stepped in the ring. I dodged his fist, which was nearly the size of my head. He swung again and again, but I evaded him each time. He was starting to get agitated.

I stomped, and forced the power out through my foot. A small crater formed under me. I stomped again, and it grew. I continued in different places, warping the ground until the Champion was having a hard time with his footing.

He came at me, rage-filled. I’d been in the ring too long. He swung directly at my face, and I caught his fist. The split-second of his surprise was enough to use my power. I depressed the atoms in his hand, making it the same size as my own.

He screamed in pain and drew back, but was dumb enough to come at me again. I shrunk his other fist, then his left foot. He fell. The crowd gasped collectively.

I went to him and put my boot on top of his head. I leaned down so only the two of us could hear.

“This is for all the people you’ve taken from me.”

Then I let my power flow.

The crowd was dead silent. Jaws were agape, seats were empty, it was like they forgot to breathe.

I looked over at the man who’d let me in at the gate. He was just as flabbergasted as the rest. I smirked.

“A bold choice, indeed.”

“The Arena Gates will be opening soon, have you decided on your weapon?”

“My depression.”

“A bold choice.”

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

Easy, haven’t you heard of David? Just walk up to that Cosmic Threat To Earth™️ and yeet that rock as hard as you can at his head.

Describe how you save the world with a rock. No magic, it isn’t a boulder, just a regular-ass rock.

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

You take care not to crush the delicate ferns underfoot as you stray off the trail in search of that mysterious ‘it.’ Soon you’ve hiked about a mile, but nothing in the underbrush stands out as sign-worthy.

This is a waste of time, you think. It’s just some stupid prank that you...

You trail off as you see something peculiar. A ring of mushrooms in a perfect circle, all of them pure white. The grass around them is uncannily green, even the soil looks cleaner.

Memories of mythology books you read as a middle schooler fill your mind. What did it say about mushroom circles again? Some sort of summoning ground? A gateway? A playground for fairies?

You scoff. It’s just a bunch of mushrooms.

But something about the whiteness draws you in. Could this be the ‘it’ the sign was speaking of? You press one foot into the soft soil inside the circle.

A flash of white blinds you momentarily, and your other foot lands in the ring. As you blink away the spots in your eyes, you can’t help but gasp. Standing in front of you is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.

Ivory white skin gleams and pointed teeth shine beneath ruby lips. Male or female, you’re not sure. You only know that you can’t look away. It draws near to you, fragile feet resting in the same mushroom ring. It’s breath smells like lilacs and rain as it whispers “what might your name be?”

A warning flies through your head. Something from those books from middle school, but you ignore it.

Quietly, you mumble your name, and into the rabbit hole you fall.

While hiking in the wilderness, miles away from the nearest human civilization, you stumble across one of those big metal signs they have along the highway or interstate. The sign looks brand new, or at least like someone’s been taking care of it. The writing on it says that “It” is just one mile away. You decide to keep hiking and find out just what “It” is.

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

By the time this song is over, one of us will have betrayed the other.

You knew life was a dance

You gathered up your melodies, your rosy skirts, your memories

And you ran for it, took a chance

You found your harmony, the twisted harmony

Hidden behind my eyes

You decided that it fit with you, you ignored the dissonant lies

My piano, dear, was out of tune, it has been from the start

The middle C was out of key, and right with it my heart

Still you came, you played those keys, convinced to make it fit

But the song was ending. You knew it was. We were sick and tired of it.

And so we wrote our final dance, our requiem, our doom.

We tried to make it major, but it ended in sour tune.

So I looked you in the eyes, said the words we were both scared to utter

By the ending of this song, my love, one of us will betray the other.

“By the time this song is over, one of us will have betrayed the other.”

[i-respond-to-writing-prompts]

Hello! For anyone who’ll read this, these are not writing prompts, they’re RESPONSES to writing prompts. Short stories, poems, alternate plot lines, even art, it’ll all be here. Anything too big for a tumblr post will be put on my Wattpad account, MoonByte1803. Be sure to check those out. Thanks for reading!!