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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Mar, 2023
Submitted to Contest #289
The room is unfamiliar. I don't know how I got here. I don't know how anything at all could find its way in here, it appears to have been quite thoroughly sealed up from all possible entrance points. There is nothing in this room, aside from myself and what few things I had stored away in my pockets - my notepad and pen, and a lighter that was infuriatingly without any fluid and so served little more than something I could feel the weight in my hand as a reminder there was something in the world still. The pale pink of the walls were not qui...
Submitted to Contest #258
Henry was a photographer, freelance and somehow forever just one step behind whatever was necessary to make a name for himself. That said, he had managed to get a landscape or two featured in named magazines, and if he happened to have framed the article they were featured in and stored it safely in his room, that was rather between himself and his dresser. For something that was considered a glorified hobby, the fact that it was something that brought him joy managed to be far more important than any intention to monetize his pleasure. The ...
Submitted to Contest #257
It was the dream again. It was always the same, blurred and gentle under the veil of dreamish memory, just as real as the waking world with none of the harsh realities of wakefulness. Details, as was often the case with dreams, as she had found, seemed just beyond her grasp, out of reach for even her desperate clinging fingers. With a body still heavy with the bindings of lingering slumber she had yet to shed, a pajama-clad Ophelia padded from the sanctuary of her bedroom to the little kitchen, a yawn hidden beyond the sleeve of her dr...
Submitted to Contest #248
The willow trees whistled and groaned with the existential exhaustion of lost and wandering damned souls seeking unachievable salvation amongst the shadowy corners of the earth. Shadows that stretched just that little bit too long in the growing gloom, swayed and danced a little too erratically as a swirl of bitter wind stirred up the leaves that had begun to rot into nothingness on the forest floor. All was too silent, the quiet of the grave reaching its spectral hands up to clasp at the living, even the occasional cry of a night bird seeme...
Submitted to Contest #239
To maintain the protection of those infected and those inquisitive souls who might wish to seek out the validity of the following document, the names of all people and places have been changed. We request that you do not attempt to investigate further. From news reports at the time, it was said to have been the result of a freak storm several miles away shedding debris, however no such storm has yet to be reported. One Bromwicher resident claimed in the early hours of the event that “those religious fanatics what shout at folks going about t...
Rose could not quite place when it was that it first started, or indeed really when she had first noticed that there was anything at all that was actually starting that she should have noted. It was a simple thing, at first. The book she had placed on the little rich elm table now sitting forlornly upon the carpet upon her return. The table itself being a decent hand’s length from where she had left it before setting out with the knowledge that there would be nobody at all about the house in her absence. Really, perhaps it ought to have b...
Submitted to Contest #235
The room was just as he had left it mere hours ago. Almost. The haphazardously stacked yet untouched pile of books remained in their alarming lean, just as he had left them. The heavy curtains were just as drawn as he had left it, ensuring no prying rays of light had the chance to creep in and invade the space. Why, he had even allowed for a sigh of relief when he observed, upon his return, the little scrap of paper fluttering from the doorframe where he had wedged it. But that did not account for the accursed thing that set his blood to i...
Submitted to Contest #230
We of the esteemed Society of Luxure and Beon (for the fabulously hedonistic and lavish) wish to congratulate you on your entry into our outermost circles. This is not a privilege that is given to just anybody and we hope that you can both understand and respect the gravity of this honour and act accordingly. Your enjoyment of the finer things in life have not gone unnoticed and we offer you a platform for which to delve into whatsoever pleasures you might wish to indulge. It is of vital importance that you heed the rules of th...
Submitted to Contest #228
Why on earth did he decide it was a good idea to invite the man over to make him dinner? He didn’t know how to cook! Well, actually that was not entirely true, what he did not know how to do was cook something that was edible – or even something that was not worthy of being labeled a biological hazard – but that did not mean that he did not know how to stir things. He would like to think he was capable of that at least, but frankly Charlie doubted there were very many recipes that were made entirely by the act of stirring things over the sto...
(Content warning: cannibalism, details of the act of cannibalism, and a narrator that sees nothing wrong with glorifying it)There had been no greater ecstasy in the course of his life that could ever come close to that of which shocked through his very soul the first time he brought the flesh to his mouth. Unspoiled by the act of cooking, there was a lingering sweetness to the meat that excited his senses near to the point of giddying, delicious delirium. As he tore through the still-warm tissue, he knew with a resounding certainty that no m...
Submitted to Contest #221
As a child, the scratching frightened Maxwell terribly. Steady desperate clawing at the windows, the floorboards, and once or twice he was sure the blankets that he had drawn up over his head as he tried to hide from the onslaught had been tugged at in such a way that made it alarmingly clear that whatever it was had gotten so much closer than he ever would have been comfortable with. Keeping him from falling into the much-desired embrace of slumber, instead spending long hours of the night jumping at shadows and any noise at all that he hap...
“Thank you for calling ‘Wraith Wranglers’, where all your spectral, haunting and communicative needs are just a call away! What can we do for you today? – Uh huh, uh huh I see! With the Class B Haunting pack you can expect all the classics that we pride ourselves on, including the ever popular cold chills and faces in the mirror, as well as your choice of either mild poltergeist activity or bleeding walls. – Yes of course, good choice, the bleeding walls are always very popular ma’am. For just a little extra, can I interest you in upgrading ...
She couldn't recognise the house. Not anymore. The subtle flower wallpaper she had been so terribly fond of had been torn so carelessly away only to be replaced with some ghastly geometric eye-strain of colours and irrational patterns. The furniture, both those she had found herself or those given to her from her family had been hauled off to some auction or another or donated to wherever it was that people who wanted to act like they were doing good donated things. In their place stood mockeries of what had been there before, cheap and perp...
Shortlisted for Contest #220 ⭐️
Everybody knew that trolls had been hunted to extinction years ago. It was just common knowledge that they had gone the way of the way of the common European dragon, the garden gnomes and, of course, the great auk. That is a tragedy, of course, but it had also been long accepted as just one of those things that people did, hunting innocent species to extinction, so that people wouldn’t feel quite as bad about their misdeeds for as long as they were able to justify them away as human nature. Now, with that said, Elliot could not quite fi...
Submitted to Contest #220
“Are you hungry?” the voice asked, soft as the Spring breeze, but unlike the springtime breezes, the voice instilled upon me nothing less than an icy dread that chilled me to my very core. I had hoped to feign my continued slumber for a while yet, long enough to discern what truly was reality and not just the lingering fantastical afterimages of a dream I had yet to fully awaken. But I had never been an actor, and now I can be quite certain that my treacherously quickening breath had been more than enough to alert whatsoever shared my s...
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