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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#149: Of Stranger Things

After its much-awaited release last week, the fourth season of Stranger Things has taken the world by storm. First aired in 2016, this television show stars a group of D&D-loving kids and unlikely heroes in a topsy-turvy world. Its creators took inspiration from many classic thrillers, and the show has in turn been influencing writers to write Stranger Things books. 


Whether you’ve been swept up by this sensational show or not, I hope my Stranger Things-inspired prompts can propel you into a story of your own this week:

This week's prompts

Write about a character who is trying to convince others to play a game.

Kids – 20 stories

Start your story with the flickering of a light.

Kids – 98 stories

Write about two people who form a bond with each other through music.

Middle School – 46 stories

Set your story in a town that’s teetering on the edge of something dark, literally or metaphorically.

Dystopian – 50 stories

Write a story about an unlikely group (or pair) of friends.

Middle School – 43 stories

Stories

“Quill and Scroll” by Ian Gonzales

Submitted to Contest #149

“Thank you all for being here tonight,” I say, smiling over the tips of my steepled fingers. “You are in for a special treat.”Outside of our table, nestled in a dark corner, the tavern is doing a brisk business, crowded with an eclectic collection of beings, all of them intent on making as merry as they can. Coin and drink flow freely, laughter and curses ring out in equal measure, and the smell of strong ale and roasting meat permeates the air.“What are we doing here, Maziroth?” asks Arakon, the heavily built human warrior shifting his weig...

4 comments 4
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“Guitar Man” by Himani Trivedi

Submitted to Contest #149

At the exact same time every morning he strums his guitar day through night and night through day. Nobody knows who he is or why. I have never seen his face, or heard his voice, or even learned his name. I have never seen him go outside once. Sometimes my little brother knocks on his door but no answer. The whole town has heard his music but not a single person has seen him before. Everyday when I walk to and from school I hear him play. It’s soothing yet stimulating. Sometimes, when it’s quiet outside I can hear him from my bedroom. Late at...

5 comments 5
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“Two Skeletons in a Snow Globe” by Amanda Wisdom

Submitted to Contest #149

The haunting melody begins at dusk each day, like clockwork. It is Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 14, of that I am sure.  I step aside from my usual perch behind the weathered gravestone and roll out my stiff shoulders. Tired from standing all day long, I kneel down and rest against the head of the gravestone. With slow swipes, I smooth out the ruffles in my pink skirt and finally begin to relax.  Next to me is a small, orange jack o’lantern, grinning. Gently, I lift it from the ground and cradle the pumpkin in my arms. It’s some...

6 comments 6
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“Disagreements” by Saptarshi Mukherjee

Submitted to Contest #149

[CW : References to sexual practices, occasional use of strong language.]Light and darkness, brought on the by the flickering fluorescent white light of the morgue, bickered with each other over Sam’s father’s face, none winning yet not losing. His father lay on the frozen tray of the morgue, lifeless. The coroner had sewed up his insides, brought outside by the collision, and the stitching showed as a vertical slash along the axis of his body.“Do you identify him as Mr. Percival Bratton?” the officer was asking, to him he realized.All he co...

2 comments 2
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“Singing and being Irish in England” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #149

Singing and Being Irish in England Patrick O’Connor worked for a big English company, which should come as no surprise as he had moved to England less than two years ago for just that very purpose. But he had not allowed for the possibility that he would feel as isolated as he did now every day. The colleagues in his office were all as bloody English as they could be. And they took great joy in mocking his very Irishness, especially his accent. And some of his expressions. They would often ask him what he was “after...

4 comments 4
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“Tesoro Mio (My Treasure)” by Cindy Calder

Submitted to Contest #149

It was five-thirty in the afternoon on a Thursday, and Zelda was seated at a café in Florence that overlooked the picturesque Piazza Duomo. The Café Florian had become a norm in her everyday existence during the last year she had lived in Florence. Upon finishing work for the day, she would always stop by the small café to enjoy the beauty of the piazza where she could unwind and watch the diversity of people as she indulged in a rich caffè latte. She had come to cherish the time at the café, but she also looked forward to seeing Mateo each ...

2 comments 2
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“The Venice Writing Workshop” by Ren B

Submitted to Contest #149

Congratulations! Your first book got published. That writing workshop was memorable. Ten aspiring writers met every Monday. Sitting at a round table, sharing feedback about your stories. There was another incentive; the best author from the workshop would win a publishing deal. But you never thought that your path to publishing would walk this murderous way. You all met at a historical, two-floor building in Venice, California. An idyllic garden with sunflowers, fruit trees, and native flora surrounded the building. You thought this was th...

8 comments 8
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“Play With Me” by Lydia Lim

Submitted to Contest #149

“Play with me?” I ask hopefully, an expression of expectation on my face.   “Play with me?” I ask hopefully, an expression of longing on my face, eyes wide.  “Play with me?” I ask, an expression of resignation on my face, eyes wide and lips trembling.  No. No. No. I’m busy, ask your father. I’m busy, ask your brother. Don’t disturb me, ask your mother.  I sit by myself. I sit alone. I empty out the blocks onto the floor. Red rectangle. Blue circle. Green triangle. I move them around for a while. A house. A to...

1 comment 1
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“Memorabiliac” by Jim Firth

Submitted to Contest #149

(Content warning: Strong Language)The London Underground heaved with bodies as Poppy chased a train departing for Soho in her pink stilettos. A strobing fluorescence washed over the entire station before the lights cut out completely.Snap Poppy caught her heel in the gap between two platform edges. Her knees buckled and she lurched forward, looking for a pair of shoulders to grab onto.*Craig was being lulled into submission by the queue of sheeple when ten fingernails gouged through his duster jacker into his trapezius. Not fond of...

17 comments 17
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“Scent of Fear: Two of a Kind” by Futurama Delivery

Submitted to Contest #149

Lights flickered and glimmered in Hepburn.Adonis was engulfed in a silky white glow as the moonlight illuminated him as he drove through Hepburn's slums.Hepburn was once a prosperous mining and manufacturing town but now lies idle. Yet, some remnants of life still exist; Adonis realized he was not the only one there.A wall of shadows cascaded down from tarnished pewter buildings sprawled throughout it. To refuel, he stopped at a gas station. Outside, a homeless person played the drums.Adonis was perplexed. Why was a homeless person playing i...

3 comments 3
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“Connected Rhythms ” by M M

Submitted to Contest #149

Picking up my bag, I wave my hand in a soft quake directed to my friends as we go our separate ways to lessons, hearing the bell announce the last hour of school. I check my schedule for my last class as I stroll down the halls to spot science – the most inexplicable and lifeless subject I’ve ever attended.Hauling myself down the corridors of the school, I eventually reach my class and enter. I walk past groups of others gossiping, receiving gestures from some, as everyone waits for the teacher to turn up. I distinguish the only seat in the ...

4 comments 4
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“The Lonely Farmer ” by Ruby Pix

Submitted to Contest #149

The Lonely FarmerOne breezy day, a lonely farmer who was tending to his cows in his barn happened to find a nest of barn owls. These creatures were rather shy and gentle compared to other birds of their feather. When the farmer started poking around, he had accidentally spooked the parents. They prepared to flee from the scene leaving behind their eggs, but the farmer pleaded for their stay as he is dreading what will become of their young. And so they stay. Surprised by this, the farmer holds a puzzled expression. He was a cyclops and unlik...

6 comments 6
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“Boyhood: Danger, Sugar, Baseball & Kindness” by Andy Abbott

Submitted to Contest #149

Tommy has a vivid imagination. Around the age of three, like most children, he began to explore the world of pretend. He liked to race cardboard boxes down the hallway, which in his mind bared the likes of Motor Speedway alongside Lightning McQueen. Jumping out of window sills and off coffee tables he was parachuting off of buildings to come to the rescue in Adventure Bay with the Paw Patrol. With each passing year this imaginative child withdrew a little more from socializing with other children as the world of pretending only got bigger an...

4 comments 4
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“THE SLAVE ARTIST” by VICTORIA HALTON

Submitted to Contest #149

THE SLAVE ARTISTYou could see the years of service on the face of this strange man. Those years of true combatted wars and secrets that were pressed into his military attire. Even his walk as he escorted me down this old dimly lit hallway, spoke to the honor he exuded as a member of the military. I distinctly remember the lights were flickering as we came closer to the area I would soon be taken to. My mind frantically searches for answers to questions I didn’t even think of yet. The cold breeze draws out goosebumps from the foxholes of...

1 comment 1
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“Everybody lives for the music” by Patrick Samuel

Submitted to Contest #149

[warning: it wouldn't be a story without sensitive content.]I turn on the ignition. When I feel the motorbike vibrating under me, I tell myself: this must be what sex is like with someone you truly love. Not that I would know.I make the engine roar, once, twice, to drown out all the thoughts I know are coming. When that’s not enough, I press “play” on my Walkman. Pretty soon the synths start up and I’m on a highway of sounds. Bright lights, the music gets faster. And it never fails to conjure up all that I can’t face in silence.Lik...

13 comments 13
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$250

Prize money

256

Contest entries

123

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Jun 10, 2022 EST

Won by Katy B 🏆

Title: How to Win a Game of Chess Without Really Trying

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

Read the full terms & conditions or check out the FAQ if you have any questions!

Prompts | Many Hands | 2024-09

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Prompts | Many Hands | 2024-09

Join our weekly contest

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