Unfinished story for March 8th Daily somebody can complete lol (I wrote this as the first paragraphs of the prologue of a novel I was going to write during the November session, but I got too busy and didn't write anything more xD) TW: mentions of depression

I stare deep into the ocean, and I find a reflection of myself watching back. An intense yet dampened glow in my eyes. Mouth slightly curving downwards, posture leaning downwards, looking down, down, down…

5:58. My watch constantly reminds me of the time, and I know I should jump. I told myself I would do it today. The bridge is busy today, cars racing behind me as I try to not chicken out. Today, today, today…

My sense of time warps when the world loses all meaning. Days seem to merge into a continuous cycle, a cycle without purpose as I try to break the loop. I keep trying to find an exit, only to find this to be my only solution.

Up high, I hear the cranking as the bridge slightly shakes from the wind. I hold firm to the railing, but not even the wind shakes me anymore. Nothing seems to bother me. I do not budge. You learn to stop fearing when you no longer have anything to live for.

The ocean below is tranquil. I watch the waves lap over one another, a constant game of chase, trying to catch up but to no avail. The smoky haze of the sky blocks out most of the light, leaving the water a plain and dull color. The lack of sunlight has caused the world to no longer sparkle.

Birds chirp overhead. Their distinct calls create a dizzying sound. I want to go. I just want to go.

5:59. No more distractions. I have stalled for far too long. Now is the time to act.

I proceed to have one leg over the railing when the faint sound of sirens echoes in the background. I dismiss the blares at first, but they start to approach closer and closer. Somebody must have noticed me after all. The loud noises are just a reminder to act faster.

Both legs are over the railing now. My feet tiptoe precariously on the edge, my hands gripping the cool metal loosely.

Somebody shouts at me to stop. Maroon and blue lights bask me in shifts, taking turns to light me with colors.

I let go of myself. The air blows from behind me, as I brace for impact.

The cold water knocks everything out of me. Everything surrounds my senses, and the sheer shock knocks me out.

Unfinished story!
Goodluck. I will probably finish this later…

The potion simmered over the fire. Cauldrons popped and crackled all over the hut. Every few feet you could see a carpet, cat, or hanging tapestry. All of the light came from a huge bonfire in the middle of the room. If one wasn’t careful when looking, the place was empty, But to the trained eye of Dwain Fearless the witch hunter, it was clear as day the witch was there. All of the cats purred and none of them seemed remotely scared. Dwain’s eyes followed every trail of smoke or carpet.
CrAcKkkkK! Dwain leapt towards the door with his sword in hand as a huge black crow swooped into the room.
Dwain the Fearless, killer of witches! Cried the crow.
“Who are you!?!?” Yelled Dwain.
“That is Onyx, my messenger.” Dwain whirled around to see a young women stroking a huge black panther.
“D-don’t hurt me!” Dwain squeaked.
“Not so fearless now, eh?”

My Unfinished Story for the March 8th Daily

If you choose to continue this story, please link me :) I’d love to see what you come up with!

Salt, Sand and Tears

I can’t believe what I just did. What I said. The words I can’t take back.
I put my head in my hands and sigh. Try as I might, I can’t keep the day’s events from replaying in my mind.
“I was trying to /help/ you!” Oddette threw her hands up. “Like you asked?”
“I never asked for this. You ruined my life,” I snapped. “I’ve got no one now.”
“…You’ve still got me,” she said softly.
“You?“ I scoffed. “That’s just fantastic.”
Oddette took a step back, her mouth forming words that never got said. Instead, she said, “You know what? Fine! Go ahead and hate me. See if it matters to me.”
“I don’t even hate you. That would imply that I care.”
Oddette looked like she’d been slapped, but I spun on my heel and ran away before either of us could say anything else.
Sand flew up as I ran, burning my eyes.
Or maybe the burning was caused by the tears, angry and regretful.

 It all started around two weeks ago. And, looking back on it, was all pretty stupid. You know how it goes, something seems so important at the time but you come to realize it was the last thing you should have been focusing on. I only wish I’d seen that at the time.
I’d just gotten a job Frosty’s Ice Cream Shack on the beach. If you’re ever in town, you have /got/ to stop there. Seriously. Their lemon sorbet is /wicked/.
But I digress.
I pushed open the door, excited for my first day of work. Hello independence! Hello income! Hello-
Insanely cute boy.
Wait, what?
I blinked, almost running in to a guy around my age. “Sorry, didn’t see you, there I’m-“
“Just excited to start work?”
I blinked again and nodded.
He grinned, seeing my confusion. “I’m starting here today as well. Name’s Bruno.”
“Joy. I mean, Joyce. My name’s Joyce,” I stumbled over my words.
Still grinning, he opened his mouth to say something else. What it was, I never got to hear because that’s when Frosty came out from behind the counter.
His name isn’t actually Frosty, of course, but that’s what literally everyone calls him. Half the time I can’t even remember his real name.
“If it isn’t my two new favorites!” Frosty booms, practically beaming. Everything about Frosty is loud, from his voice, to the bright stripes he always wears, to his wild white mustache. Yet I don’t see how you could help but like him, he’s always kind, his pale blue eyes twinkling as if you were sharing a joke, just the two of you.

Unfinished story for March 8 daily
Athena and Poseidon have washed our dishes.
Our names are Maya and Allen, and we are writing this together. Maya is the oldest, and Allen thinks we should get on with the story.
Here’s how it happened.
“I wish I was a god,” Allen grumbled. “I bet they don’t have to wash dishes.” Allen had been rereading Percy Jackson, so the Greek gods were on his mind. Percy Jackson is great, you should definitely read it. But whether the Percy Jackson books are good or not is entirely irrelevant. Maya thinks that it’s irrelevant, anyway, but some disagree. Funny how Allen was the one who was impatient to get on with the story, and is now going of on a tangent about Percy Jackson.
“Well, unless the dishes are magic, someone would have to do the gods’ dishes,” Maya pointed out.
“I bet the gods do have magic dishes,” said Allen. “I want those magic dishes.”
There were more dishes than usual that evening, since we had neglected to wash them after breakfast and lunch.
“I think I read somewhere that Zeus had a daughter named Hebe, and she served the gods their food or something,” Maya said. “Maybe she would do their dishes?” (We found out afterwards that Hebe was “the goddess of eternal youth and cupbearer to the gods,” but found nothing about her doing the gods’ dishes.)
Somehow from there the conversation turned to which Greek god would be best at doing the dishes. Allen thought it’d be Poseidon, since he’s the god of the sea and can control water, while Maya thought Athena, being the goddess of wisdom, would probably either know the secret to washing dishes quickly or could figure it out herself.
As we talked, we managed to barely wash any dishes, and instead ended up leaning against the counter, Maya leaning against it with her stomach, Allen with his elbows on the countertop, chin in his hands. The counter was wet, which meant the front of Maya’s shirt and the elbows of Allen’s were too.
We were leaning like this, shirts wet, when we half-saw a flash of bright light behind us, accompanied by the hoot of an owl and the strong scent of seaweed.

Unfinished Story March 8th Daily:

Allison Schaffer wiped a sweaty streak of strawberry blonde hair out of her face as she walked home. She wasn’t far from home, only a few more blocks until she reached her house, a tall two story house, surrounded by beautiful cherry-blossom trees, a green roof and a big basement. In fact the basement was her bedroom, she liked it down there. For one thing the basement was big so she had tons of room to practice soccer and it kept out all the noise made by her younger siblings Berk and Tony, and Theo, her younger sister.

Allison knocked on the front door and waited for her little brother, Tony to open it. When he did it Allison almost didn't recognize him, he had some sort of sauce on his head, cucumbers plastered to his eyes. Along with, sour cream rubbed onto his checks. Allison grumbled, “Berk” she screamed “Come her this insante” “Coming” he shouted from his room not sounding the least bit concerned. He dashed down the stairs skipping the second, fourth, and eighth step. Before she could launch into a long speech about why-he-shouldn’t-dare-Tony-to-dress-up-as-a-lady-in-the-spa. He collapsed in a fit of giggles. And sputtered what sounded like “He actually did it, he dressed up as the person in mommy’s magazine” Allison rolled her eyes, while she dragged whining Tony up to the bathroom and told him to get a new pair of clothes. He obeyed, thankfully.

Five minutes later he came back with a green shirt, a black pair of black shorts, and a new pair of underwear. With that Allison turned on the water and motioned for him to climb in. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “That's not how it works”Allison said and she grabbed Tony by the waist and attempted to put him in the bathtub. Tony thrashed and kicked. “No, no,noo” he screamed. “Fine,” Allison said, not sure if she could handle any more screaming “you get in yourself”. He huffed a big sigh and climbed in. The rest of the shower went smoothly. Until, it came to washing the sauce off his hair. The smell of the shampoo and sauce created a stinky smelling odor that filled the whole house. On top of that their dog Max barged into the bathroom and hopped into the tub, creating a huge splash of soap suds. One got it to Tony's eye and he started crying.
By the time his shower was done, it was already six-o-clock. Thirty minutes until their parents would come home from work. Thirty minutes until dinner, and thirty minutes until Berk would get in trouble but also, thirty minutes to cook dinner. Allison heated the left over stew on the stove, waited fifteen minutes, and poured 6 bowls of steaming hot stew and, a bowl of dog food. Next, she told Tony and Berk to wash their hands while she got Theo from her room.

Theo was her blind younger sister, who spent most of her time in her room listening to audiobooks or teaching Max tricks. She had successfully taught Max to bark the number of fingers you held up, how to fist bump and high-five. Allison opened the door “Time for dinner” she said “Ok”Theo replied. Jumping off of her bed, and hopping down the stairs, “Don’t forget to wash your hands.” Allison called after her. “I won’t.” she promised. Though Allison highly doubted it.

The doorbell rang a few minutes later to reveal her parents. “Mommy” Theo cried, running to tackle her mom with a hug. “Dinner ready” Her dad asked, licking his lips the way he always did. “Yep” Allison replied sliding into her chair. “Ew, you could have told me we were having stew” Theo said in disgust. “Where is the fun in that” Berk teased

Unfinished story for March 8 daily

It's the only thing I could find that was decent and not incredibly cringe-

tbh it's way better than what i was going to use for this, but i dug some more :]

(If you are going to use, I would love if you could link it to me after you're done ^^)

I walk through the woods cautiously. There have been many rumors around these parts of ghosts and witches. I don’t believe in such things unless someone gives me proof. And I’m not one to get fooled real easy. I treaded with my ankle-high boots rubbing against my skin. My shoulder-length hair flew in flurries, making its way back to my neck. The brown leaves started to crunch under my boots, leaving a faint trail behind me. I wiped the sweat off of the back of my neck, the sun gleaming on me.
I walked down a familiar path, jumping underneath the shade of the trees above. A clearing appears and the pond I longed to see shimmered in the sun. I go closer, splashing myself with the cool water. I smile, shaking the loose drops off of me. A cool breeze ran through my hair, leaves blowing in the air. I laughed as a butterfly landed on my flower-patterned shirt. I jog around the pond and into a field of daisies and sunflowers. I lay down, giggling and watching the clouds as they pass.
Hours pass and the colors in the sky get warm. More time passes and the sky is black. This is what I’ve been waiting for. The sleek black sky, with sparkling stars. The constellations are clear to me and I sigh in relief as the meteorites start coming into view. They start to come down with a fiery glow, brightening up the sky. They light up the sky bringing bursts of colors. As the show finished, I let out a deep sigh. It’s time to go back home. I retrace my steps exiting the field of daisies and sunflowers. Then, making my way around the pond, I hear crickets saying good night. I start to jog as the wind blows. I go through the woods, crunching beneath my feet.
Weaving my way through the trees, I move carefully and alert. I stay cautious, looking around and making sure there isn’t anything I don’t know. I do a quick scan of the surrounding area before I slip out of my gear. I place my gear underneath a blueberry bush. Underneath I have a black jumpsuit. I slip stealthily underneath the bush. With a slight movement of my wrist, I activate a switch and I fall down. As I go down, I land on my feet. Looking around, I close the hatch. I open up a hatch in the ground and pull out the package at the top. Carrying it now, I make my way to the sofa. I open it up as I sit down and dig into the treat inside.
Mom brought me fresh beef and vegetables today, yum. I’ve been living on my own for a while. Mom brings me food every once in a while. Not that I can’t cook because I can. It’s just getting the resources out in the wild. I have some running water, but it is limited and scarce. I’m only 15 and I only like to hunt when necessary. I’m a complete introvert. I hardly like interacting with people. I feel freer with nature, in the wild. It’s easier for me to rely on my own strength. I get really shy around others and it’s always been a problem for me. I take a deep breath, smelling the aroma of the beef and seasoned vegetables.
‘Don’t run off like that again!’ I hear my mom’s voice in my head. Arg, a memory that I want to get rid of. The day is so vivid, full of emotion. I cringe as I think of the events that had happened that day. It was after- after my dad passed. I was so angry with myself, my mom, the world. I had run away, maybe a state or two away when the cops finally found me. They hadn’t expected a 6-year-old girl to run off that far. Well, I knew my way around trains and taxies. I grew up a city girl, but the wilds are my home. It took a while for my mom to understand that I feel freer here. She preferred keeping an eye on me from afar and not having to worry about where I was every 2 seconds. It’s a bargain for both of us. We both get what we want and need.

Unfinished Story 3/8

Hello! I wrote this story during the July 2021 SWC season.

Huge icy raindrops splattered against the windows. The village children sat with their heads pressed against the glass, wide eyes fixed on the procession of soldiers marching through the streets. The heavy rain resounded against the stone streets as the sound of droplets fell into rhythm with the marching of soldiers.
For three days enemy troops had taken over the city of Havensburg.
For three days the children had been trapped inside the schoolhouse.
They didn’t dare to step outside the premises of the schoolhouse, in fear of the consequences that would follow. Now, the children were weak and pale with famine, and the teacher was doing everything she could to send for help.
“I- I want to go home,” one of the children cried out softly.
The teacher wore a concerned expression on her face. “I know, Benjamin. It won’t be long till we can all go home.” she said.
The children gathered around her desk, their solemn faces and trembling lips told a tale of despair and suffering. With nothing but the lunches they had packed days ago and a small stash of emergency supplies, food soon became scarce as the children were forced to ration what they had. That night, the children went to sleep with empty stomachs and cold, shivering bodies.
Long before the arrival of the soldiers, rumors about enemy attacks on the capital city of Havensburg began to form. Yet no one had any proof to justify the assumption. And now the enemies were marching through the village streets, on their way to overthrow the capitol building.
Another night passed by, with soldiers still flooding the streets. By morning the rain had dwindled to a light drizzle. As the children sat around the small fireplace, clinging to the only warmth they had, the teacher peered out the window. She let out a small gasp.

Unfinished story for daily 3/7

“You…”
“Uh-huh.”
“But that–”
“Yep.”
“So then–?!”
“In all probability? Yes.”
"No.“ Terra slipped down the wall, falling into a crouch with her arms over her head. ”You know how much they monitor everything in the Eighth Realm. What could've happened– what could still happen–“
”Terra, it was about time they knew I existed! Look at this.“ Bryn waved a hand at the steel-grey walls of the hideout. ”Maybe we're safe here; maybe we'll always be safe here, but that doesn't mean I want to stay here forever.“
”I know that! But– the Eighth Realm? If you wanted to get out of the hideout, couldn't you have taken the portal– I don't know– anywhere else?“
”Aren't I the older sister here?“
”That doesn't mean I can't worry about you!“
Bryn sighed. ”I'm going to fix the Eighth Realm someday. Defeat that weird queen, everything. Make it safe to live there.“
”I'd figured, but– now they know you're out there. A Manipulator.“
”Maybe they don't. Maybe they missed me. I got back here, right?“
”I know. And I'm glad you're okay. I'm just– It's– I'm going to my room."
Pushing herself to her feet, Terra ducked through one of the three doors that branched off from the hideout's central room.
Alone in the windowless space, Bryn stared at her hands.
I knew the risks, she told herself.
And it's not like I wanted to go there. I randomized the portal. Because at that point–
Anywhere was better than here.
She couldn't let her eyes leave her fingers. If she did, she'd have to look at the dull sharpness of the one place where she could be safe.
Carefully, she directed a small spark of thought down to her fingers. It slipped into the air like an impossible raindrop up a windowpane, and the space it touched twisted. The outlines of her hands warped and blurred until, with a hush of blankness in her mind, reality calmed.
Manipulator or no, Terra's voice whispered in her thoughts, the Eighth Realm is dangerous.
I know, she told it. But someday I'm getting out of here for good.
In her own room, Terra lay flat on her mattress, staring up at the metallic ceiling. A leftover shudder rippled through her body.
What if they come looking for her? They can't find us here, but she won't stay here.
What do I do if she's not here to protect me?
And why do I care about that when I'm so scared for her?

weekly - march 2nd-9th
༺ other parts of this weekly

part 4: nonfiction
total words: 1099/800 (including a quote used two times - without the aforementioned quote, word count is 1079)
sources/references - piece 1:
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/West_Germany
> https://www.britannica.com/topic/Berlin-Wall
> https://www.vocabulary.com/dictionary/dictatorship
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berlin_Wall
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iron_Curtain
sources/references - piece 2:
> https://www.nasa.gov/image-feature/apollo-11-launches-into-history/
> https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/topics/apollo-11-moon-landing-minute-minute
> https://science.howstuffworks.com/how-long-to-moon.html
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo_11
> quote said by neil armstrong

a) the berlin wall - type of writing: expository - 651/400 words
When World War II ended, what remained of pre-war Germany was divided into four sections, each one controlled by one of the Allied powers: the United States, the United Kingdom, France, and the Soviet Union. Despite Berlin being fully in the Soviet zone, it was divided into four sections as well for being the capital.
The Soviet Union used a government system commonly called “communist state”, while the other three sections were controlled democratically, using the federalist type of government. The three Ally-controlled sections combined into one, called West Germany, and, therefore, the controlled by the Soviet Union zone earned the name of East Germany.
The form of government chosen by East Germany and its execution lead to a dictatorship, which means a person (dictator) or a group (dictators) makes all the rules for the country/nation, without input from anybody else. This dictatorship blocked freedom of speech (saying or expressing your thoughts, beliefs, etc.) and all the mediums to express your input (press, radio, art, and others). If you said something against the government, you were taken to jail. Even secret microphones or telephones were added in the houses of the most suspected people, for the government to hear everything you said. You could not even trust your neighbors - in order for them not to be considered traitors, they were practically obligated to inform the police about what you said.
Because of all of these restrictions being put in place by and in East Germany, from 1949 to 1961 lots (around 2.5 million) of citizens from the Soviet Union’s zone escaped to West Germany, where all these restrictions did not exist and you could live and express your thoughts freely. The transcript of a phone call between Nikita Khrushchev and Walter Ulbricht in August 1st 1961 suggests that the initiative to construct a wall came from Khrushchev, while other sources say that Khrushchev had initially been cautious about building a wall or some sort of border fearing negative Western reactions, and, that, however, Ulbricht pushed for a closure for some time, arguing that East Germany’s existence was at risk. On 12 August in the same year, the leaders of GDR (German Democratic Republic, which was a somewhat hypocritical name) attended a meeting in which Ulbricht signed the order to close the border and erect a wall. At midnight, the police and units of the East German army began to close the border and, by Sunday 13 August in the morning, the border with West Berlin was closed. The barrier surrounded West Berlin and prevented access to it from East Berlin and adjacent areas. The barrier was up for 28 years - on 9th November of 1989 some news began spreading immediately: the West German Deutsche Presse-Agentur issued a broadcast at 19:04 which stated that East German citizens would be able to cross the inner German border “immediately”. After hearing this, citizens of East Germany began gathering at the Wall, demanding the border guards to immediately open the gates. At first, they were ordered to revoke the citizenship of the “more aggressive” people, but this still left thousands of people demanding to be let through since they weren’t considered as “aggressive”. Soon, it became clear that no one in the East Germany authority would take personal responsibility for issuing orders to use lethal force, so the greatly outnumbered soldiers had no way to hold back the huge crowd.
Finally, at 22:45 on 9 November, Harald Jäger acceded to the popular demand and let people through with little or no identity checking.
The fall of the Berlin Wall was a significant event in the world that marked the falling of the Iron Curtain, an imaginary and political boundary symbolizing the efforts of the Soviet Union to prevent its states from interacting with the West and its allies, and the start of the fall of communism in Eastern and Central Europe.

b) the moon landing - type of writing: narrative - 448 words including a quote used two times - without quote, word count is 428
Hmm, what day is it? July 16th… Just a normal day. Let’s watch some TV for a bit.
I sit on the couch and click the button to turn the TV on. Just a few years have passed since we got TV in color. It’s a bit weird for me, considering I’ve watched black and white TV practically all of my life… But I still enjoy it. For now, I suppose I have to stick to this one… The first channel I opened says “Weather Reports for July 16th, 1969”. Boring. Why does one need a weather report if you could simply look through the window? Other channels contain a telenovela, the moon landing, a boring informative, how to songwrite… Wait, what!? The moon landing?! I quickly switch to the channel, prepared to watch what I later learned was a “small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”.
I sob (from joy!) as I watch the Apollo 11 spaceship lifting off the ground at 9:32 AM EDT.
Three days, three hours, and forty nine minutes later, on July 20, 1969, at 4:17 PM EDT, I watched Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landing the Apollo 11 spaceship. Six hours and thirty minutes later, I watched mankind, represented through Neil Armstrong, getting out of the spaceship and stepping for the first time ever on the surface of the moon. I watched, and listened to, Neil Armstrong saying “That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” I sobbed, as the TV showed me the advance of mankind in one frame. I also saw the pilot, Buzz Aldrin, join Armstrong nineteen minutes later.
After twenty one hours and thirty six minutes of being in and exploring the moon (I didn’t watch all of it!) I saw the astronauts going back to their spaceship, and after two days, twenty two hours and fifty six minutes, on July 24, 1696, at 12:50 PM, they reached the Earth. The entire time I sat on my couch (which, as I said, wasn’t the entire time of the mission!) I sobbed from joy seeing how much mankind progressed, to the point of launching a spacecraft, getting to step on the moon, and go back to Earth intact. The people who designed this trip are a genius, I can’t deny that.
I can tell mankind progressed a lot after that - we got PC’s, the Internet, the World Wide Web, cell phones, and much more. Since I was alive when everything happened, and will stay alive to see everything that will happen in the future, I’m the most reliable ghost you can go to when needing to know anything about history.

Unfinished Story 3/8

Hello! I wrote this (incomplete) story during the July 2021 SWC season. Its really short…

Huge icy raindrops splattered against the windows. The village children sat with their heads pressed against the glass, wide eyes fixed on the procession of soldiers marching through the streets. The heavy rain resounded against the stone streets as the sound of droplets fell into rhythm with the marching of soldiers.
For three days enemy troops had taken over the city of Havensburg.
For three days the children had been trapped inside the schoolhouse.
They didn’t dare to step outside the premises of the schoolhouse, in fear of the consequences that would follow. Now, the children were weak and pale with famine, and the teacher was doing everything she could to send for help.
“I- I want to go home,” one of the children cried out softly.
The teacher wore a concerned expression on her face. “I know, Benjamin. It won’t be long till we can all go home.” she said.
The children gathered around her desk, their solemn faces and trembling lips told a tale of despair and suffering. With nothing but the lunches they had packed days ago and a small stash of emergency supplies, food soon became scarce as the children were forced to ration what they had. That night, the children went to sleep with empty stomachs and cold, shivering bodies.
Long before the arrival of the soldiers, rumors about enemy attacks on the capital city of Havensburg began to form. Yet no one had any proof to justify the assumption. And now the enemies were marching through the village streets, on their way to overthrow the capitol building.
Another night passed by, with soldiers still flooding the streets. By morning the rain had dwindled to a light drizzle. As the children sat around the small fireplace, clinging to the only warmth they had, the teacher peered out the window. She let out a small gasp.

3/8 unfinished story owo

Half Bloods            
Book One: Monika
 

Prologue
July 26th, 2011. A day I'll never forget.

At first, it was as normal a day as could be. At that time, I was being home schooled. I'd finished my daily lessons, and was playing with Blair in the living room. Blair is my amazing little girl. Don't take that the wrong way though, she's my cat. My parents were seated at the dining table having an “adult” conversation. I still don't know what exactly they were talking about to this day, but I think it could've been related to what was awaiting us later on.

That's besides the point, however.

We were interrupted by a loud knock on the front door. Monika's mother got up. “Were you expecting anyone?” she asked, directed to her father. “No, I wasn't.” he said, peering curiously at the door. “Neither was I, I wonder who it could be,” she said, nearing the door now. Reaching for the handle, she swings the door open in a smooth glide. “Oh my…” she uttered, slowly backing away from the door.

This moment still replays over and over in my head, quite vividly. A group of village soldiers were behind that door. Behind them was the Chief Elder, along with the king of the human realm? What could they possibly need from us? Monika had wondered.

Her parents had prepared her if something like this were to happen. At the time, Monika had thought it was a silly thing to practice, after all, what wrong have they ever done? But she realizes now why they had had her do all those things, why the soldiers were even there in the first place. But at that time, she was shocked. Terrified, even.

They barged in, not very quietly either. They immediately headed towards Monika's parents, they had found their target. Remembering to grab Blair before she left, Monika quickly ran to the back door as she had practiced multiple times beforehand. Taking one last glance at her parents before she escaped, she saw them handcuffed by the soldiers: They'd been captured. She ran away, holding the fluffy bundle in her hands. With tears escaping from her eyes, she'd hoped desperately that that wasn't the last she'd see of them.

As instructed, she took the trolley that would take her to her aunt's house. It crossed the border, meaning she'd be in the human realm. Her aunt opened the door to an emotional mess. She immediately reached down to embrace her tightly. Through her sniffles and sobs, Monika had managed to get out one sentence. “T-they took them Auntie…”

Monika was 5 at that time.

daily - march 8th
༺ back to megapost

two pieces of writing are included here - an unfinished/somewhat cliffhanger piece of mine and a story i continued!
piece i continued - by @opheliio!

a) unfinished/cliffhanger piece of mine - 601 words
I sit on the table, after preparing all the dinner myself, waiting for my dad to come eat it. Life is hard sometimes.
My memory goes back to the time that mom was here with us. Everything was easier. She did a lot for me - helping me study for my tests, explaining things I didn't understand, organising school plays, leaving her job before she was supposed to be home with me… But now she is gone…
I hear footsteps. I better get up from my chair - dad is coming.
“Did you prepare rice with chicken?!” My dad growls. Oh-oh. This is going to be a tough night.
“I… I forgot…” I knew what he was going to do. He got his belt out…
My dad currently drinks. After what happened with my mom, he started to drink to “forget it ever happened”. His objective was quickly fulfilled, but he could not stop after that. He currently drinks one or two glasses of beer per day.
“Ouch!” I scream to myself.
“Now, you're going to bed without eating!” He screams. I was pretty accustomed to this…
I quickly obey him. I went to my room. It is very small. A plegable bed on a corner, a little desk, and some books. From now on, I refuse to call him dad. I'll refer to him as “he” or “him”.
“Him” is now coming upstairs. I quickly assemble the plegable bed, cover myself with the poor blanket and I pretend to be asleep. I hear “him” coming to my room, and I can see him (without him seeing me) peeking at my door.
“Everything in order…” He says very softly.
Then, he goes to his room. In contrast to mine, his room is very big. I'm currently sleeping where the guest room was. My old room is now locked. It was pretty comfortable…
Since mom died, life has been very difficult. Dad blames me because I insisted she to go to that concert. The truth is (she told me this before going) that she was very overwhelmed. Then I told her that she should go to the concert that middle school was holding that night. I also told her that I had a lot of things to study (of course, this was true) but she could tell me everything after.
After a lot of time speaking, I finally convinced her, and she said she was going to the concert to relax a bit.
But she never came back…
Because her car - her car did…
I cannot continue without pouring some tears.
Life has been tough without her, and it still is, though more than three years passed since then.
I’m still wondering why. She was a very good driver, she never did…
We did an autopsy. But it failed. We’ll never know what happened to her or why it happened…
Since then, “he” has been different.
I wonder why “he” changed.
Before this, “he” was very affectionate with me.
I think he also feels mom’s loss…
But actually, he shouldn’t be unburdened about mom’s loss with me.
But once again, actually, I was the one who insisted she to go there.
But once more, actually, it (was) her life. And I was just suggesting. Wasn’t I?
I - Maybe it’s my fault.
But, again, I couldn’t have known that that was going to happen.
But I could have foreseen this was going to happen. Could I?
I always wished I could be the perfect daughter. Or at least, a semi-perfect daughter…
And I was.
At mom’s eyes.
And I’m now an impediment to “his” eyes.

b) continued story by @opheliio - 466 words!
“This woman, Villavenq, has a rare name. We can find her in no time.” The intern adds and hesitates while everyone watches the tension grow.
“I'm the one who solves things here.” While they talk, they examine each one of the members and their eyes, one by one. “You all are only here as assistants. And the assistants shouldn't contradict the mastermind, should they?”
“Uh, I, ah…” The intern starts speaking again, and suddenly everyone turns to them. The leader suddenly directs their attention from the other corner of the room to the intern.
“You what?” The leader was expecting an answer.
The intern hesitates for a second. Then, a voice turns the conversation upside down, challenging the leader.
“Excuse me, mx, I strongly believe you're īdoing wrong. How are you expecting a new intern to know all the rules and conditions? On their first day? Tell me, mx, have you ever been new to a job? Have you ever tried something new? And if you did (which I doubt) I bet they didn't treat you like this. At least not on the first day, did they?”
The leader turns their head and examines each part of the room, but doesn't find the owner of the voice. Everyone's perplexed.
“Excuse me, who said that?”
All the team members look at each other.
“Who said what?” The team members are genuinely confused, except the new intern.
Everyone, for the second time, turns to the intern.
“Was it you?” The leader says calmly, although everyone can tell that behind that calm, the leader is furious with the owner of the voice.
“What did I do?” The intern asks.
“Don't play silly with me. You know what you did. You. Are. Out. Of. This. Team. Get. Out. Of. My. Sight. Right. Now.” The leader spits out all in one breath.
“But I didn't…! I wasn't…! I…”
“Was I clear enough? Get out of my sight right now, or else…”
The intern opens their mouth to say something else, but they instantly rethink and close it. They approach the door, and when they're grabbing the doorknob to get out, the same voice as before exclaims.
“Let them go free.”
Again, the leader looks for the owner of the voice, and once again, doesn't find them.
They are shocked. The voice takes advantage of that and continues talking.
“I said that. Was I clear enough? I repeat, let them go free.”
The leader is able to react again.
“Who in the world are you?!” They use the same calm but cold tone they used before.
“My friends like to call me Marlenne Villavenq.”
And before anyone can assimilate what happened, a sound of someone doing some sort of parkour that sounds softer each second.
“Marlenne Villavenq.” The leader manages to articulate.

Part 1 of March 7 daily
Papi, Mami, Luis, Luci, Lucki, and Leos were a big, perfect family. They all worked together to make the best meals for their family, and when they were done, they played cultural board games.
One normal night, as the family was sleeping quietly in their beds, a ferocious lion slipped through their backyard noiselessly. It made its way through the back door. It sniffed to see where the humans were. It bounded to Papi’s bedroom, for he was the biggest, meatiest one.

Papi woke up to clawing at his bedroom door. “Hey,” he asked in a loud tone, “who’s doing that?” There was a growling sound, then the clawing got more and more intense. Papi looked out his window, panicked that there was a creature outside his door. He shouted and shouted, hoping to attract someone’s attention.

Meanwhile, Lucki was in her bed, tossing and turning. She finally became conscious of her surroundings, and sat up. After a few moments, she started to hear a man calling for help. “Hmm, I bet it’s that pesky neighbor again- wait, is it coming from inside this house?” Lucki blinked her eyes in fear. “If it is, then..then..I must save Papi!”
Papi was relieved to hear yelling outside that eased his stress. “Hold on, Papi, I’m coming through the window!” Someone who sounded suspiciously like Lucki shouted.
In a few moments, Lucki’s head popped through the window, her hair swaying from side to side.
“Hi, Papi. I heard you calling for help?” Lucki said, worried. Papi nodded, still in surprise.
“Come through the window, so we can wake up everyone else.” Lucki said, reaching her hand towards her dad.
Papi reluctantly maneuvered himself out of the window, and ran to his wife’s window with his daughter close behind. The lion had scratched the door enough to see into it.

About thirty minutes later, the entire family was huddled in a sitting circle outside, brainstorming plans to fight the lion away from their house.
“Ba ba gooh gaaah weah.” Leos suggested, not acknowledging that he was a baby.

“Get the broom and throw it at that beast! Slaughter him!” Luis suggested, bringing in his rough, 14 year old spirit.

“U-uhm…make him a pretty little pie with sprinkles and cupcakes on top..?” Little Luci asked, shy even near family. Luis was about to make a rude remark and shove her in a not-so-playing-manner-but-that-family-shove-that’s-just-natural, but Mami stopped him.

“Personally, I think we should be logical about this,” Mami said in her occasional accent, “Let’s call animal control, and go back to sleep. Simple as that.” The family contemplated this, but they all shook their heads, including little Leos.

“They might suspect we stole it. Plus, there is a cost for having a lion prowling around your house.” Papi said as the others nodded their heads in agreement.

Finally, it was Lucki’s turn. All this time, she had been finalizing the plan in her mind. Now, it was time to suggest it.

“I think we should all use our skills to defeat the lion. I’m a natural adventurer, I’ve made tons of rubber band bows and arrows before. Luis, you have muscle. You can help Papi, who also has cooking skills that can bribe the lion out the door, get the lion out into the wild. Mami, you could take your cooking equipment and stuff it in the lion’s face and mouth, making sure the lion is confused, and moves more easily. Luci, you could take your incredible singing voice, and start hitting high notes outside so that people can hear, and come help us. And finally, Leos,” Lucki thought for a moment, “Ah! You could spit on the lion!” Lucki realized. She looked around, staring at her family’s astonished looks.
“What?” She asked, confused. Mami cleared her throat.

“Lucki, that’s a great idea!” the entire family shouted in unison, even baby Leos. Lucki blushed.
“O-oh! Thanks,” she said, determined, “Now, we have to execute the plan!”

The family crept inside Luis’ window, for it was the biggest one in the house. They heard the lion pawing around the kitchen. Good for them, the kitchen was right next to the front door, so they could easily fight the lion out.

3/8 unfinished story:

I sit inside, watching instead of listening, feeling instead of speaking. Rain patters against the window… dripping slowly into the bucket in the middle of the room… and a drop of it trickles down my cheek as soft spots appear around the small black markings of the writing assignment.
Examples, examples. Just a demo. Nothing more, nothing less. I gaze around, deafening silence absorbing me. A hurricane of quietude washes over me, like it always has. I close my eyes…
What is the price to pay to live in a world that can finally hear you?
What is the price to pay to finally hear its laughter?
Because I know I would pay that price. I would pay everything. It’s not like I have anything else to give up.
I stand alone, left with nothing, nobody, only orders and criticism. I grab the cool metal of the pen, instantly flinching at its surface. An invisible force tells me to do it. You know you have to. Your situation will never get better if you don’t. Another part of me says, this is your life. Do what you want with it. I close my fist around the pen and scribble all over the paper.
Loops, zigzags, lines. I create tornadoes on the assignment. There’s no other way to demonstrate the emotions whirling inside my head, about my body. Images swirl about my mind, yet how can a mute mouth tell you what they are? And the only way I can is being used against me.
Am I even real?
Am I just a pigment of the mind?
The two questions I have never been able to ask and have never been answered to my face… the only thing I get instead are scoffs and backs turned towards me. Not like I could understand it anyway.

writing to be continued : from 13 january 2021, for daily 8 march 2022

Newspaper clippings crowd her floor. So many, piles upon piles of stories. Photos. Cold cases. Anything that could possibly be related to him.
Anything that could possibly be related to me.
As they scour the room, looking for evidence to use against her, one in their team stands apart.
“This isn’t right.” Their voice rings through the room, making it colder somehow. “Something’s missing. This is—was more than a story to her. It was an obsession.”
Someone doubts them, you can sense it in the air. But he holds his tongue, not daring to voice any concern of his. Second guessing them never turns out well, and I should know.
Unfortunately, not everyone does.
“How would you know that?” An intern, not well acquainted with the inner workings of this team. Without the knowledge that while this member of the team isn’t the leader, they call the shots. They make the rules.
They turn on him. “I’m the one who brought you here, all of you, and you doubt it?”

Unfinished story > 3/7/22 (date written americanly sorry) daily
Writing From July 21, 2021 Daily
I lay back, and close my eyes. I’d rather be reading, but only old people read at the pool. It’s been practically 5 minutes, which feels like an eternity, and I’m so bored. I’m about to open my eyes when a hand taps my shoulder. Dang. I wasn’t planning on interacting with PEOPLE today. I pretend to be asleep, and I’m certain they’ll figure out I’m faking.
“She’s asleep. This spot good?” Ugh. Even worse than I’d thought. Mikayla, the meanest girl in school. She’d been out to get me since second grade, when I’d beat her up after she’d teased my best friend, Kelly.
“So, I got some good stuff.” I recognize that voice. “Turns out, Shar has a diary.” I almost correct her, almost tell her it’s a journal, but remember at the last second that I’m faking sleep.
“Anything good?” Mikayla asks.
“Yeah, Kelly, tell us!” One of Mikayla’s goons. The traitor! Kelly’s hanging out with Mikayla’s MikMuffins? I tune out the conversation about all the secrets in my journal (of which there are none) until a squeal jerks me out of my thoughts.
“Eeeeeh! Guys, I just had a great idea!” It’s Toni, Mikayla’s right-hand lady. She lowers her voice, but I can still make out the words. “We have Sharon asleep and defenseless on her stomach, facedown, on a lounge chair. Think of all the possibilities!” I can just imagine Mikayla’s evil smirk.
“Oh, I’ve thought about them. I have a plan that’ll make her too ashamed to show her stupid little face again.”

My Part of the Daily
Built Off of @amazaeevee's writing
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - (her writing)
I walk through the woods cautiously. There have been many rumors around these parts of ghosts and witches. I don’t believe in such things unless someone gives me proof. And I’m not one to get fooled real easy. I treaded with my ankle-high boots rubbing against my skin. My shoulder-length hair flew in flurries, making its way back to my neck. The brown leaves started to crunch under my boots, leaving a faint trail behind me. I wiped the sweat off of the back of my neck, the sun gleaming on me.
I walked down a familiar path, jumping underneath the shade of the trees above. A clearing appears and the pond I longed to see shimmered in the sun. I go closer, splashing myself with the cool water. I smile, shaking the loose drops off of me. A cool breeze ran through my hair, leaves blowing in the air. I laughed as a butterfly landed on my flower-patterned shirt. I jog around the pond and into a field of daisies and sunflowers. I lay down, giggling and watching the clouds as they pass.
Hours pass and the colors in the sky get warm. More time passes and the sky is black. This is what I’ve been waiting for. The sleek black sky, with sparkling stars. The constellations are clear to me and I sigh in relief as the meteorites start coming into view. They start to come down with a fiery glow, brightening up the sky. They light up the sky bringing bursts of colors. As the show finished, I let out a deep sigh. It’s time to go back home. I retrace my steps exiting the field of daisies and sunflowers. Then, making my way around the pond, I hear crickets saying good night. I start to jog as the wind blows. I go through the woods, crunching beneath my feet.
Weaving my way through the trees, I move carefully and alert. I stay cautious, looking around and making sure there isn’t anything I don’t know. I do a quick scan of the surrounding area before I slip out of my gear. I place my gear underneath a blueberry bush. Underneath I have a black jumpsuit. I slip stealthily underneath the bush. With a slight movement of my wrist, I activate a switch and I fall down. As I go down, I land on my feet. Looking around, I close the hatch. I open up a hatch in the ground and pull out the package at the top. Carrying it now, I make my way to the sofa. I open it up as I sit down and dig into the treat inside.
Mom brought me fresh beef and vegetables today, yum. I’ve been living on my own for a while. Mom brings me food every once in a while. Not that I can’t cook because I can. It’s just getting the resources out in the wild. I have some running water, but it is limited and scarce. I’m only 15 and I only like to hunt when necessary. I’m a complete introvert. I hardly like interacting with people. I feel freer with nature, in the wild. It’s easier for me to rely on my own strength. I get really shy around others and it’s always been a problem for me. I take a deep breath, smelling the aroma of the beef and seasoned vegetables.
‘Don’t run off like that again!’ I hear my mom’s voice in my head. Arg, a memory that I want to get rid of. The day is so vivid, full of emotion. I cringe as I think of the events that had happened that day. It was after- after my dad passed. I was so angry with myself, my mom, the world. I had run away, maybe a state or two away when the cops finally found me. They hadn’t expected a 6-year-old girl to run off that far. Well, I knew my way around trains and taxies. I grew up a city girl, but the wilds are my home. It took a while for my mom to understand that I feel freer here. She preferred keeping an eye on me from afar and not having to worry about where I was every 2 seconds. It’s a bargain for both of us. We both get what we want and need.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - (my part starts)
I get up and walk towards my room, if you can even call it that. There’s barely enough room for my bed, nightstand, and dresser, but I managed to cram a small shelf that’s bursting at the seams with books into a corner. I look over at the small frame on my nightstand. I don’t know why I keep it there. Every time I look at it it brings back a flood of memories, some wanted and some not. I glance around my room, making sure everything is where I left it. My eye catches on a small black rectangular object mounted in a corner of my room, right above my dresser. A camera. My mind races as I try my best to act normal, walking back towards the sofa. I’m about to sit down when I notice another camera, mounted across the room from me. I sit down and try to figure out what’s happening. My mom wouldn’t mount cameras in my home. She knows I’d spot them right away. There’s only one other person who knows where I live. I jump up, shove a few things in my satchel, and storm out of the house. Well, I do the best I can to storm out while climbing up an awkward chute to surface level. I grab a GPS navigator thingy from a cabinet disguised as a bush, along with a long rope threaded with steel. I swing up onto my horse, and she gallops through the woods, down the trail that only exists in my mind. Yes, my horse. You expected this to be all futuristic, didn’t you! The story isn’t even in your world. Not that we’re aliens. We’re in an… alternate dimension, I suppose. Back to the story!

When we reach our final destination, I slide off of Shanty’s back and land on the mossy earth. I stalk through the small town, towards the end of Main Street, and stop in front of a small house.
“ROSHAN!” I yell, pounding on the front door. “Get out here, you sniveling fleabag!” I yell obscenities at the door. When it finally opens, it isn’t Roshan who stands there.
“Hello, old friend. So great to finally see you again.” His calm, measured voice sounds exactly like how I remembered it. I lunge towards him, wrapping my hands around his neck.
“Cagnoz,” I growl. “What do you want?” His face is turning blue. He snaps his fingers, and his brutish henchmen pry me off of him. That’s new. Since when does he have henchmen?
“Oh, dearest Kyra. I’m afraid you just laid hands on the heir to the throne.” He nods to the nearest henchman to set me down. The ogreish man obliges. “No one will know where you went. You poor, poor mother,” he croons, leaning close. “Take her away!” he calls.

Wingbeats stirred Odysseus suddenly from his place of quiet contemplation. A vast sea spanned in front of him. Waves pushed in and out, while foam dissipated slowly as the water surged back. Damp sand was cool against his knees. Everything was peaceful. Everything except the tumult inside of him. Odysseus looked upwards.
A sheet of fog had settled over the beach, and a white bird darted in and out of view in the gray. He would appear for a moment, then tilt his wings and vanish. But the sight of the sea bird had a healing effect on Odysseus, much like the waves had on the sand. Even as Odysseus watched, the water engulfed a set of footprints in the sand, making the beach smooth again. He might be content to stay here forever, until all traces of him had been washed away by the waves as well. He twisted a cool piece of metal between his two thumbs and forefingers.
It was a piece of silver, carved to resemble the bird who flew above him.

story beginning!

STORY START

You might think me lucky. I was born with the gold-eyes, but my parents didn’t send me away to live in the slums like all the other children with my same condition. You’re wrong. While I might have all the food I could ever ask for, lying just to protect my parents precious reputation is more a punishment than a blessing. I’m forced to keep away from the gold-eyed children because I could get sick. There’d be no covering up my situation then. Only Gold-Eyes can get the plague, after all. I wasn’t saved because my parents loved me too much to let me go and die. No, I was saved so my father and mother could go to fancy banquets and call themselves Pure-Eyes. Lucky for them, I’ve kept in line. Worn my contacts. Never told a soul about my malady. Well, other than silly old “Crazy” Fenris. But no one cares about the man who lives in a hut on the edge of the palace grounds. Except me.

If anyone uses this, please send it to me on my profile, I’d love to read it! ♡

— Crim from Sci-fi

Athena and Poseidon have washed our dishes.
Our names are Maya and Allen, and we are writing this together. Maya is the oldest, and Allen thinks we should get on with the story.
Here’s how it happened.
“I wish I was a god,” Allen grumbled. “I bet they don’t have to wash dishes.” Allen had been rereading Percy Jackson, so the Greek gods were on his mind. Percy Jackson is great, you should definitely read it. But whether the Percy Jackson books are good or not is entirely irrelevant. Maya thinks that it’s irrelevant, anyway, but some disagree. Funny how Allen was the one who was impatient to get on with the story, and is now going of on a tangent about Percy Jackson.
“Well, unless the dishes are magic, someone would have to do the gods’ dishes,” Maya pointed out.
“I bet the gods do have magic dishes,” said Allen. “I want those magic dishes.”
There were more dishes than usual that evening, since we had neglected to wash them after breakfast and lunch.
“I think I read somewhere that Zeus had a daughter named Hebe, and she served the gods their food or something,” Maya said. “Maybe she would do their dishes?” (We found out afterwards that Hebe was “the goddess of eternal youth and cupbearer to the gods,” but found nothing about her doing the gods’ dishes.)
Somehow from there the conversation turned to which Greek god would be best at doing the dishes. Allen thought it’d be Poseidon, since he’s the god of the sea and can control water, while Maya thought Athena, being the goddess of wisdom, would probably either know the secret to washing dishes quickly or could figure it out herself.
As we talked, we managed to barely wash any dishes, and instead ended up leaning against the counter, Maya leaning against it with her stomach, Allen with his elbows on the countertop, chin in his hands. The counter was wet, which meant the front of Maya’s shirt and the elbows of Allen’s were too.
We were leaning like this, shirts wet, when we half-saw a flash of bright light behind us, accompanied by the hoot of an owl and the strong scent of seaweed.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

We heard a low chuckle and a sort of smirkish sound (Allen claims that’s not a word, but I think not) Allen whirled around holding a sauce covered mini-knife at the two intruders. Seconds later it clattered to the ground. A whip of water from the sink had knocked the not-so-much-weapon out of his hands, but where did it come from? The answers were right in front of us.

“Lady Athena!” I cried remembering what she looked like from a bright picture book I read. A man beside her wore a hurt face and dramatically clasped a hand to his chest.

“Lady Athena! Oh gods!” He mocked it with a hintful grin. “What about Lord Poseidon, eh? Power sure does spread differently around here….” Allen lost his shocked face and spoke two, raspy words. Apparently soap had gotten in his mouth from the splash . Or it was shock. (Allen claims now he was in awe, but I think he was kinda scared of them)

“No. Way.” Allen suddenly became giddy and looked up in amazement. A thousand questions had swirled my mind, and I guessed hundreds more were in his geeky little mind. He started asking them everything about those stories he read. What was true? What wasn’t? Why were they here? Athena answered everything perfectly in a straightforward tone, while Poseidon made a lot of hmmms, ummms, and wells. I was starting to already like Athena.

Poseidon finally spoke in something sensible. “Well we got a little message that you two were arguing over who could wash the dishes best, and we both love a challenge..wanna start now?” He gave a mischievous grin to Allen who immediately claimed him as his champion. Athena (Allen says I must call them by “lord'' and “lady” , but whoever listens to baby brothers?) nudged me in the side and gave me a reassuring look. The two gods went to the opposite sides of our double sink and Athena quickly divided up the plates and utensils evenly. Allen looked excited, his bright blue eyes bouncing from God to Goddess and back again. Athena ran her hand over the edges of the sink, probably mentally measuring them. She experimented quickly as Allen went to find an old stopwatch. Poseidon however was less concerned, as he was making little water horses and making them gallop around my head. He didn’t seem too worried about losing. Allen bounced back, a dusty stopwatch in his hand. And this my friends, is how Athena and Poseidon have washed our dishes. Allen looked over at me.

“Go!”

total 428 words on my part <3

Unfinished story for daily!

“Guys, are you sure?” Roy asked his ‘friends’. “Aw, what? Scared?” One of his friends said, while opening the door to an old arcade’s dusty storage room. Roy slowly walked into the dusty, damp room, unaware that his ‘friends’ has plans. Roy looked around, while swiping all the dust and cobwebs, and out of nowhere,

Bang.

The door closed. Roy ran to the door, trying to open the handle. “Uh, I think the door’s locked. Can you open it?” Roy stood for a few seconds, until he heard laughing and giggling from the outside. “Hello? Can you let me out?” The laughing got louder. “Please! Stop laughing! Let me out!” The laughing got even louder and louder every time he shouted for help. Until he realized that the laughing didn’t come from the outside. It was so loud it sounded that it was on the inside. Roy looked around, and he saw some kind of black goop. A glitchy one, for sure. He started going closer to the goop, and it got bigger. And bigger, and bigger. Roy ran to the door and banged it. “Guys! Let me out! I’m serious! Please!” It crept closer. “Let me out! Please! Come on!” Roy banged the door louder and louder. The thing caught his feet, and everything went dark.

Roy opened his eyes, and it was oddly very bright. Did the thing brought him outside? But if it did, someone should’ve saw it. Roy looked around and he was in a wide grass field. “Hello?” he shouted. “Anyone?” he shouted again. No one answered. He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. The phone glitched out and started making static noises, Roy looked at his hand and it also ‘glitched’ like his phone. Suddenly, he felt something on his shoulder. It was a person, a person that looked like it formed from the black glitchy goop he saw in the arcade’s storage room.

“Hello. You’re new here aren’t you?”

“Who are you?!” Roy shouted, “You can say, I’m the ruler of this land.” the person answered. Roy was shaking, he stuttered: “W-what land?! Wh-why are you here?! What are you?!” “Follow me,” the person said as he walks forward. “No! I don’t even know who you are! I’m not following some weird creepy stranger!” Roy shouted as he walked back. The person out of nowhere grew a tentacle-like limb and grabbed Roy in the neck. With a distorted voice: “Follow me or I’ll be the last person you see.”

“Well, come along.” The person dropped him to the ground while Roy follows him, still in shock.

note: why does microsoft word make it look like there's a lot more words :/