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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#252: Obsession

The Netflix series Baby Reindeer, inspired by a real-life stalker story, has garnered millions of views over the past month while receiving both critical acclaim and heavy backlash. In the show, a chance encounter between a barman and a total stranger descends into a chaotic tale of stalking, destruction, and mutual obsession. Delving into themes of personal boundaries, power dynamics, identity struggles, and mental health problems, the show depicts some of the complexities and contradictions inherent in human psychology.

Inspired by Baby Reindeer, this week's prompts are an invitation to explore some of the nuances of human behavior. Whether you write a witty story, a heartwarming tale, or something tense and gripping is up to you!

This week's prompts

Start your story with a character being followed.

Dramatic – 99 stories

Write about a character who struggles to do the right thing.

Character – 35 stories

Write a story in which one of the characters is a narcissist.

Character – 39 stories

Make a character’s obsession or addiction an important element of your story.

Dramatic – 129 stories

Write a story that includes someone saying, “Be careful what you wish for.”

Character – 55 stories

Stories

“FILTH” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #252

***Contains some profanity***Roland had sat at his window all morning. The view wasn’t anywhere near as clear as he would have liked, but then what could he do three flights up with that grimy, ill-fitting pane having long since morphed into its homophonous twin? Thrice he’d complained to the council. The last time he’d been more emphatic with regard to the damp and the mould, but would they listen? As for the state of the communal stairs – well, that’s the residents’ responsibility, sir, please refer to page four, section ten of your tenant...

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“Happy” by Rachel Coughenour

Submitted to Contest #252

She could tell by the way they stood close to one another, sharing uncertain glances, that they didn’t understand what she was saying. They didn’t, maybe couldn’t, understand her perspective. They couldn’t feel the grasp it had on her, reaching up through her insides holding on tight with fingers made not of flesh but barbed wire. To pull away from it would tear her apart. The only other woman in the group was shaking her head slowly, a mask of disbelief stretched across her face in response to what she was hearing. Her thin arms were ...

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“Functional Alcoholic” by Sofia Fleming

Submitted to Contest #252

It starts to rain properly. Eventually, I get back to the house. Every inch of me feels dead. I’m not even angry at everything that’s happened. I’m just tired and sad. I put my Yamaha YZF-R6 back in the smithy with my helmet, lock the doors, and get inside. I almost don’t bother to take off my shoes or hang up my jacket. I switch the lights on and stumble into the kitchen over to the fully stocked bar. I call myself a glophead. Greyson says I’m a “functional alcoholic”, meaning I can “maintain daily obligations and routines” but still “misus...

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“The Compromise” by Jeremy Stevens

Submitted to Contest #252

He called on me in class today. “Audrey, have you a verse to contribute?” he asked. He does this, calls on students whose hands aren’t raised, his (admittedly effective) way of keeping us tame. He calls it “voluntolding.” There’d been a lull, a long, uncomfortable pause after he nominated Lance to contribute a verse: Lance, the one who sits in the corner closest to the back door, the one who gets picked up by the Boys’ and Girls’ Club bus. The one whose refrigerator displays the school lunch menu with a smiley-face magnet; the one whose grea...

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“The Schmidt Just Hit the Fan ” by Michael Jefferson

Submitted to Contest #252

“It’s that time of year again,” Dr. Killi Knapp, the Gross family’s psychiatrist says. Dr. Knapp adjusts his designer frame glasses as Paul and Celeste bow their heads. “She was getting better,” Paul says, nervously brushing back what’s left of his hair. Celeste reaches for Paul’s hand. “She finished third three years ago. They sent her a doll…” “A Moogli doll. It’s a character on the show,” Paul explains. “Kind of a Yehti.” “That’s kept her going,” Celeste adds. “She’s sure the essay she wrote for this year’s contest will win.” Dr. Knapp’s...

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“The Fool and the Donkey Overture” by Emily Grace

Submitted to Contest #252

Note - excessive cursing, eldritch abomination The red curtain lifted. The stage was set, and the props were all in their correct places. A full-sized bed next to an open window, a spinning fan behind the window emulating a breeze, and, of course, a khaki-colored desk. A large, coffee-stained desk with disorganized stacks of music sheet paper that practically fell to the floor. It was about a year before the Modern Plague. Everything was different then. The conductor looked to the orchestra and lifted his baton. Each section of the orchestr...

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“The Auditory Absence of Hope” by Eddie Collins

Submitted to Contest #252

Rachel paced the hundred square-foot room; the soles of her feet blistered as the weeping floor boards sent her neighbors into a frenzy.With every bang on the wall, Rachel would shield her head. She removed the sweat weighed shirt and sat on the edge of the creaking bunk bed. Rachel gripped the sheets until her nails pierced her palms. Deep breaths.What is she doing?She’s practicing.Practicing? For what?It’s what she learned in the meeting you idiots.Ah, is it working?Of course not! She craves it! We crave it! WE NEED IT!Rachel stood back to...

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“Bird bones” by Stephanie Lye

Submitted to Contest #252

My sister was like a wildfire. She burned bright, hot, and all-consuming. She engulfed with her energy – the loud laugh reminiscent of wind chimes that you could hear from two rooms away, her restless body that was always moving – the leg shivering against the table, and the fingers that fidgeted with objects, loose threads, her own fingernails. On her sixteenth birthday my parents bought her a fidget ring with a big opal that spun. After that you didn’t see her without it, the barely audible hum as the stone rotated for the millionth time, ...

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“Dear Santa…” by Renee In North Carolina

Submitted to Contest #252

Is this how I die? What a traumatizing thought. One moment, I’m drinking cocoa in the snow and the next I’m feeling cold. It happened so fast, I couldn’t process the color of blood, and wondered if that were snow. I bled out, yet I pondered; who would’ve thought that a blade, sharp and sizable would be the end of my story? Not me.I used to want a partner more than anything in this world. For someone like me, however, the odds were as good as a man walking on water. But growing up, I never got any attention from women. I would talk for hours ...

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“Resolutions” by Peaky Progger

Submitted to Contest #252

Resolutions are like assholes he sighs. His distinctive voice burnt ash ground under a boot toe. The inevitable outcome is shit. He pulls a pack of Marlboro reds from his chest pocket, extracts one and snaps his thumb on the knurled wheel of a weathered, chrome Zippo igniting a stubby flame. New Years Day brings out the curmudgeon in him. "What'll you have, Unc?" I ask spinning a cardboard coaster down on the bar before him. The zippo snaps closed with a satisfying metallic clink and he pulls long on the cigarette, the answer on hold as he ...

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“2” by Victoria Shellady

Submitted to Contest #252

To our readers -- the following is a transcript from an interview between our Investigative Reporter, Maggie Maine, and Eliza Slater. Historically, Slater has not been open with the press about what happened fifteen years ago at Clarmont College. In an odd turn of events, Slater reached out to our Editor to speak with someone on the record concerning the events that were so heavily publicized. The interview, while short, was electric. As a result, we believed this story was best told through her exact words. HEREverything comes down to who'...

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“The Hidden Pursuit” by Marcellus Brown

Submitted to Contest #252

Emma quickly glanced over her shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time. The shadowy figure, just a few paces behind, matched her every step. Her heart pounded in her chest as she ducked into a narrow alleyway, hoping to lose her pursuer in the labyrinthine streets of the old city.The evening air smelled of rain, and the cobblestones glistened under the dim streetlights. She could hear the steady drip of water from the rooftops and the distant hum of traffic, but the sound that occupied her mind was the persistent footfall echoing behin...

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“Stolen Code” by Kami Drake

Submitted to Contest #252

Eris "Whisper" Voltaire moved through the neon-lit alleyways of Erebos Prime, her pink hair shimmering under the glow of flickering holographic billboards. The rhythmic hum of distant machinery and the soft buzz of her cybernetic implants were the only sounds accompanying her steps, yet she felt an unfamiliar presence—a subtle shift in the air, a shadow where none should be. Her instincts, honed by years of navigating both the digital and physical realms, screamed at her to remain calm. She had learned long ago that showing any sign of awar...

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“Who Lies Beneath the Headstone?” by Bob Faszczewski

Submitted to Contest #252

After the funeral for Fred Harris the line of well-wishers among his family and friends stretched from the living room of his large Colonial home, out into the street and well down the tree-lined block. Greetings and expressions of sympathy lasted well into the evening. Since the family had chosen me to help manage the reception, I hadn’t returned to my home until well after 10 pm. &n...

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“Our Little Game” by Moshe Davidovici

Submitted to Contest #252

It was a game. Of course it was a game. That’s how it had always been. Of course he knew she was there; she probably knew that he knew, even as she sat on a nearby bench “reading” a newspaper with little eye holes cut in it. such a cute amateur tactic, the little flirt. He fancied she knew when he was there just as much as he knew when she was, that she knew when he peeked through her conveniently opened blinds. Of course, he couldn’t rightly rule out that there weren’t times when she was following him, watching, waiting, and he was non...

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$250

Prize money

357

Contest entries

143

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - May 31, 2024 EST

Won by Danielle LeBlanc 🏆

Title: Seven Hundred and Thirty Days

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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