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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#241: Et Tu, Brute?

“Beware the Ides of March!” In Shakespeare’s play, these fateful words are thrown at Julius Caesar during a procession through Rome, warning him of the day his compatriots will betray him. In the play, and in reality, this warning came to fruition. On March 15, he was stabbed thirty times by his fellow Roman senators, including Brutus, someone he thought he could trust. As that date is just around the corner, I find myself thinking a lot about Caesar’s story, and about other stories of betrayal.

It’s the ultimate breaking of trust. You thought they were a friend, a mentor, a close confidant, a person you could trust through thick and thin — only to find yourself stabbed in the back at the most inopportune moment. What leads people to make such a drastic decision, and sever a once unshakeable bond? How do you move on when your faith in the people around you is shaken? These are just a few of the questions to consider as we look towards the fateful Ides this week.

This week's prompts

Write about someone who is convinced they’re going to be betrayed.

Dramatic – 55 stories

Write about someone who is stuck between two opposing sides and can’t decide which one to choose.

Fiction – 49 stories

Set your story at a tense event where everyone is unsure whose side they’re on.

Thriller and Suspense – 27 stories

Start your story with an unexpected betrayal.

Adventure – 81 stories

Write about a backstabbing (literal or metaphorical) gone wrong.

Horror – 43 stories

Stories

“Scarecrows” by Ty Warmbrodt

Submitted to Contest #241

Trigger Warning: Mental health and violence.I knew someone would call them eventually.Who called them?Everyone is suspect.They are making their way through the trees now. Black suits, black shoes, black ties over white shirts, burlap head coverings with painted on smiles, pitchforks in their hands. The Scarecrows. Dark web assassins for hire.Three are now standing in the back yard. Three more stand in the street. They’re taunting me, tormenting me.Waiting. It’s like ants marching up your spinal cord to pick away at your brain. The grinding o...

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“Fait Accompli” by PJ Town

Submitted to Contest #241

It was only a yoghourt. I mean, what’s a pot of curdled dairy product between work colleagues?! The ‘consume-by’ date on the lid was almost up anyway. And it wasn’t even very nice. But I was peckish, what can I say? When the hunger hits, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, right?There it was, at the back of the fridge in the break room, neglected, forgotten … I thought. No. It belonged to Beasley of all people – a stickler for the rules if ever there was one. Should a pen of his go missing – I say ‘his’, but they’re actually company-issu...

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“Who Stole the Cookies From the Cookie Jar?” by Chelsey B

Submitted to Contest #241

Milo waited all morning for his baby brother to take a nap. He had something big planned for when Mama was busy rocking him to sleep. “Mama, I think baby Andrew is tired. Take him to bed,” Milo said after breakfast. “Not quite yet,” Mama told him. Milo eyed the cookie jar on top of the counter. Mama noticed, and pushed the jar as far back as it could go. “Okay. I’m just going to go play in the playroom,” Milo announced. He zoomed down the hallway, and jumped through the second doorway on the left. Milo pulled an empty backpack off the ...

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“Renegade” by A. Torrecilha

Submitted to Contest #241

People always like to ask me what was the worst part of living in a dictatorship. After a while, I understood the morbid fascination that particular question entails, they want to hear about death, policeman screaming at your face, violent riots, strident politicians indoctrinating the people on national television. People expect the loud and abrasive nature of it, but they become very appalled when I tell them how quiet it actually was. Don’t misconstrue my words, there definitely was violence and screams. But in essence, everyone’s life wa...

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“It’s Darkest Before The Dawn” by Scott Christenson

Submitted to Contest #241

Avdiivka, Eastern UkrainePicture this: Russian drones buzzing overhead, the rumble of artillery, and a 5-second panicky run for cover as a Ukrainian spotter sees a GRAD rocket headed our way.VolodymyrVolodymyr is the Ukrainian lieutenant in charge of our unit and shouts at everyone to move their ass. He’s the last one into the bunker and appears annoyed his morning routine of one hundred pushups was interrupted. He fingers a cigarette in one hand and massages his assault rifle in the other.Brad takes a photo: Volodymyr, a Ukrainian soldier s...

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“Birdish” by Elizabeth Cohen

Submitted to Contest #241

I’ve been a bird since Tuesday. That’s the day Lucy usually comes over. She couldn’t make it this week and at first, I was glad. I didn’t want her to see me like this, even though it was all her idea. Now it’s Friday and I’m enjoying myself. The tickling sensation is almost gone and I’m luxuriating in my own softness. This afternoon I thought, the equivalent of feathers would have to be angora. I feel like I’m wearing a softest sweater, only in this case, I am the sweater. Henry’s not enjoying birdme one bit. Less of him is relief...

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“Michael J. Fox Killed My Hamster” by Kenneth Goldman

Submitted to Contest #241

Run, Caesar, run! The little guy sure could get that wheel spinning. My shrink says I have a pretty active imagination because I free associate a lot. See, when I let my mind drift I lose my focus. It doesn’t mean I’m stupid or anything, and it doesn’t mean I’m mental either. It’s like I float away somewhere and then all this confusing shit inside my head happens. He tells me I’m only imagining all these terrible things people are thinking about me but I’m not so sure. I pretend to listen when my therapist talks but I don’t always because, ...

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“The Shot Caller” by Omar Scott

Submitted to Contest #241

Every morning when I open my eyes one question looms on my mind, who’s going to try to kill me today. That is the question that every prison Shot Caller faces. My name is Benny Hughes, and I’m serving life in prison. You see I caught my wife in bed with my best friend. I know I could’ve let it go. But fuck that. No way I was going to live in a world where those two were going to stab me in the back and live happily ever after. This was the last time somebody was going to betray me and get away with it. So I tricked those tricks who were tryi...

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“Journal Entries: February 12-15, 2007” by Jeremy Tewari

Submitted to Contest #241

Feb 12: It was cold outside today so I decided to ruin Tony Beckett’s life. I feel I need to justify this decision. First of all, no, Tony Beckett has never wronged me. He and I have spoken 7 times exactly, thrice in the hallway before lunch, once at Jonathan Derelict’s house party, once at the Cinnabon, and twice after being partnered up for class discussions (once was Spanish and once was AP Macroeconomics). All of these conversations failed to be noteworthy, but he was always pleasant enough, and friendly despite our lack of acquaintance....

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“Trust is a Four-Letter Word” by Raven West

Submitted to Contest #241

I’m still in the process of extracting all the knives in my back as I write this cautionary tale of misplaced trust and betrayal. After just completing my novel, I was cautiously optimistic when I signed up for a panel of movie producers who were looking for the next blockbuster. While waiting for the start of the event, I met Sandra Lindsky at the bar. She told me she was starting a movie production company and was looking for projects about strong women in difficult situations. Excited to be face-to-face with an actual producer, I gave h...

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“Boxed In” by Paul Hellyer

Submitted to Contest #241

Awakening, it was hard to figure out where he was, his vision obscured by middling light. It appeared to be a rectangular shaped space, the ridges in the walls leading him to believe it was the inside of some kind of shipping crate. However, the most alarming feature of the environment, was the crowding. He could hardly see the ground, as everywhere in the confinement there were people lying in various states of wakefulness. There were some electric lights attached to the ceiling, illuminating the box starkly.The air in the makeshift pr...

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“Dead Mans Hand” by Timothy Rennels

Submitted to Contest #241

Dead Mans Hand Chad McConnel slapped his cards down on the green felt tabletop. A small cloud of dust coughed in protest. “Two pair. Aces and eights. Your hand’s like your ranch Creed. Nothing but bullshit!” The sheep raising farmer glared at the well-dressed cattleman across the table. “This is one fence you can’t cut!” Connor Creed eyed his adversary with a thoughtful squint. Personally, he felt that 1848 would be a better year if Chad McConnel would be swallowed up by the earth, his sheep with him. For now...

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“The Backstabber and the Night Knocker” by Zack Herman

Submitted to Contest #241

I made the Lexington paper. Page 3. I guess that I should feel proud about that. “BACKSTABBER” HAS HOLLY HILL POLICE BAFFLED Holly Hill- The sleepy Ohio River town of Holly Hill, Kentucky has never experienced anything like this. “Look, usually, the only crime is somebody stealing a car or underage drinking. Never anything like this,” admits Holly Hill Police Chief Bob Scanlon. “This” is a full blown serial killer, somebody locals have dubbed “Backstabber”. The only connection these murders seem to have is that all three victims died from...

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“No Path to Forgiveness” by Luca King Greek

Submitted to Contest #241

“Who is that?”, said Lorraine. She was looking over her boyfriend’s shoulder at his iPhone. It was a pretty girl with shoulder-length red hair and bright blue eyes, a sparing touch of lip gloss, standing, devil-may-care, on a rocky waterfront, pine trees in the background, somewhere along the coast, somewhere local. She was pretty and thin, had good skin too. Conrad swiped upwards and the girl disappeared.“Who is that girl”, said Lorraine, “She’s very pretty”. Too pretty, like she existed for the purpose of being loo...

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“Stall Secrets” by Isobel Cunningham

Submitted to Contest #241

I can’t believe I just heard that. I guess love, loyalty, stability can all be flushed away in a toilet stall. I always use the end cubicle for a bit more privacy and normally a tinkle is all I do at work. Dr. Baker just prescribed me a new laxative, though. I’m not used to it and I still can’t tell when Nature is gonna call. I thought I had chosen a quiet moment but just as I was starting to meditate I heard those two, Louise and Sylvia come clattering in on their crazy high heels. How they manage in those shoes all day is beyond me. Sylvia...

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$250

Prize money

255

Contest entries

116

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Mar 15, 2024 EST

Won by Liz Grosul 🏆

Title: When I Read Beckett

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!

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