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Darvico Ulmeli

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Feb, 2024

Stories (112)

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176 Followers

37 Following

112 Stories

3845 karma pts

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THE GUILD OF THE CURSED

Submitted to Contest #294

(Title created by Reedsy Title Generator)"Welcome to the Guild!"The words gleamed in golden letters across the wooden box Jack found in the hidden compartment of the desk. Dust caked every surface, and the air was thick with the scent of old paper, mildew, and danger. But the box - its polished wood unblemished by time - looked like it had been placed there just minutes ago.(Thin beams of moonlight filtered through grimy windows revealed dust motes spiraling lazily through the darkness. The thick scent of disuse - an earthy, musty odor - clu...

15 likes

ELIM CIVOLUDAR'S MEMOIRS: THE ABSURDITY OF HUMAN STUPIDITY

Submitted to Contest #293

The hum of the airplane engines droned in the background as I stared at my phone screen, scrolling through the latest headlines. The cabin lights flickered momentarily, casting a dim glow over the passengers around me. I sipped my drink, settled back into my seat, and then there was. "FIFA decided to ban prayer on the football field." Oh, the joy of witnessing humanity's collective plunge into madness from 30,000 feet in the air. We've finally embraced our true calling: stupidity. Yes, folks, this truly sets us apart from other creatur...

11 likes

THE BLACK INK

Submitted to Contest #292

First, I - Darvico, thank You for taking the time to read this story - even though I should probably talk you out of it. Maybe you'll stop now. Perhaps you won't. I wouldn't blame you either way. This isn't my usual kind of story. I don't know what kind of story this is yet. All I have is a title and a single idea. "The Black Ink" - a story about a painter and diabolic ink. That's it. Sounds promising.Alright. I'm doing it. I'm going to start writing. You can follow along if you want. Or not. That's on you. But just so we're clear - you were...

28 likes

PARADOX OF CREATION: ELYSIUM

Submitted to Contest #291

Pasadena, Los Angeles.Windrose Place ApartmentsAlison Parker sat in front of her computer, the soft glow of the screen illuminating her face in the dimly lit room. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, typing furiously as she made the final additions to her masterpiece. Ten years of tireless effort, sleepless nights, and endless frustration culminated in this moment. She had put her whole life on hold, but it was worth it."One more input, and you're ready, Elysium," she said aloud, her voice echoing in the quiet room. The sound sent a shiv...

26 likes

WHEN IT RAINS

Submitted to Contest #288

The rain started as a whisper - soft droplets against the pavement, gentle tapping on windowpanes. It slid down the marble columns of the Lancaster estate, tracing thin veins of water over the stone as if the house itself were bleeding. The air was thick with petrichor, the earthy scent of damp soil mixing with the ghostly perfume of jasmine from the overgrown trellis near the entrance. The sound of the rain was a symphony; each drops a note in a haunting melody.Samuel Lancaster stood in the doorway, the dim light from the crystal chandelier...

43 likes

A CUP OF CHAOS

Submitted to Contest #287

Alice's fingers tightened around the teapot's handle, her knuckles going white. With a grunt of frustration, she slammed the porcelain down on the table, the sound so sharp it made her teeth ache. It ricocheted off the walls, a shrill reminder of how lovely her life had become. Tea sloshed over the rim and splattered onto the tablecloth, leaving behind an amber trail that bled out like some tragic story of her morning. The stain spread slowly, mocking her, a perfect match for the furious fire crackling behind her eyes. If she could hurl the ...

25 likes

ELIM CIVOLUDAR'S MEMOIRS: PETER PAN SYNDROME

Submitted to Contest #287

November, 2012Dear Future, Me,I hope this letter finds you well.I wanted to share my reflections with you because you have always been someone I trust to understand me - or at least listen to what I say. You've always meant more to me than just a page in my journal. Every time I opened a new page, it felt like a breeze on my face.Lately, I've been grappling with growing up and what it means to me. Sometimes, I feel the weight of societal expectations on me - the pressure to conform to specific standards simply because of my age. It's like an...

13 likes

FRAYED CORNERS, UNBROKEN SPIRIT

Submitted to Contest #286

The suitcase was old; the black fabric faded to a charcoal grey and worn thin at the edges after years of scuffs and scrapes. The corners were frayed, the stitching was loose, and the once-smooth handle now squeaked in protest every time I tugged at it. It leaned precariously against the edge of the weathered park bench where I spent most nights, as though it were on the verge of collapse. Under the dim, flickering streetlight, its surface seemed to drink in the light, offering no reflection - just a dull, silent acceptance of its condition....

30 likes

The Call

Submitted to Contest #285

Scene: A rainy evening. Thunder rumbles in the distance as rain taps steadily against the window of a modest apartment. The dim lighting casts long, restless shadows across the room. The faint flicker of a nearby streetlamp seeps through the blinds, adding a melancholic glow to the space. A landline phone rings, sharp and intrusive, cutting through the ambient rain pattern. Sitting on her worn couch with a half-read book resting on her lap, Claire stiffens. She glances at the phone, her heart thumping at the unexpected sound as if it doesn't...

41 likes

LOOPS OF INK

Submitted to Contest #282

Kayleen sat hunched over the kitchen table, the blue glow of her laptop casting ghostly shadows across her face. The screen illuminated a blank page, a digital abyss that seemed to mock her with every rhythmic cursor blink. Her throat tightened, her breath uneven. The air in the room felt oppressive and stifling. She whispered to herself as if attempting to rid herself of the doubt clinging to her like a parasite. Her voice trembled, a fragile thread on the verge of snapping, as she said, "This time, I'll get it right."Her fingers hovered ov...

22 likes

THE FISH WHO CRIED SHARK

Submitted to Contest #282

"I'm sorry," Max whispered, his voice barely more than a ripple as it blended into the gentle lapping of waves against Coral Cove's broken reef. His dulled and patchy golden scales caught the faint gleam of sunlight that filtered through the water, a pale shadow of their once-held brilliance. He floated motionless, the usual flick of his fins absent, as if the energy to move had drained away with the collapse of his world.Once a vibrant labyrinth of twisting coral spires and shimmering anemones, Coral Cove was now a shattered skeleton. Chunk...

8 likes

THE BITTER TYPEWRITER

Submitted to Contest #282

Milo Rydell had always believed in the power of words and his unparalleled talent for misusing them.So, when the ancient typewriter arrived on his doorstep, wrapped in paper that looked suspiciously like a foreclosure notice, he thought, Finally, the universe recognizes my genius. Sure, it smelled like moldy books and bad decisions, but who cared? Great art often started with questionable origins. He signed for the package without hesitation, ignoring the delivery man's muttered warning:"Return policy's a bit... complicated."Milo didn't both...

11 likes

CURSED QUILLS AND COFFEE STAINS

Submitted to Contest #281

"Why are we in the coffee shop, Darvico? I don't even like coffee shops.""Me neither, Reed. But never mind that. I'm writing the book, Reed.""Really? What's it about?""It starts with 'Be careful what you wish for.'""Oh, groundbreaking. Truly. No one's ever used that phrase before.""Sarcasm noted, but hear me out.""Do I have a choice?""No. It's about this guy who...""Wait, let me guess. He makes a wish, but it goes awry, leading to hilarity."Fine, Reed. If you hate it so much, why are you even here?""Because you dragged me here, Darvico. And ...

16 likes

THE PUPPET’S HEART

Submitted to Contest #281

The nights are the hardest.By day, sunlight streams through the narrow gaps between thatched rooftops, casting golden pools on the uneven cobblestones of the village. The boys dart across the streets, their bare feet slapping against the stones with careless abandon. Their laughter swirls in the air, a melody that dances on the wind, brushing past me but never quite settling in my hollow chest. They are so alive, their movements fluid and unrestrained, as if their very existence is music - limbs like pliant willow branches, bending but never...

25 likes

THE HORIZON IS FLAT, AND SO ARE MY HOPES

Submitted to Contest #280

Hello, Steve, it's me.Ralph, why are you calling me at - hold on, let me check the time - two in the morning?Because I was up thinking, and I realized something important. This can't wait.This had better not be another one of your flat Earth rants.It's not a rant, Steve. It's a logical discussion about the truth.The truth is that you think the Earth is flat.Not think. Know. The Earth is flat, Steve; deep down, you know it too.Here we go.Answer me this. If the Earth is spinning at a thousand miles per hour, why don't we feel it?Because we're ...

21 likes