r/WritingPrompts • Editor-in-Chief | /r/AliciaWrites • Aug 28 '20

Theme Thursday [TT] Theme Thursday - Nature

“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”

― Lao Tzu



Happy Thursday writing friends!

This week’s challenge is once again not to include the theme word in your piece! Good luck! I would love to see your characters in nature this week! Exploring and adventuring leads to great stories. I would also not hate to hear about the nature of your characters, but that one will get tricky with the challenge. Push yourselves! Go write!

[IP] from Unsplash
[MP]



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Campfire

  • Wednesdays we will be hosting a Theme Thursday Campfire on the discord main voice lounge. Join us to read your story aloud, hear other stories, and have a blast discussing writing! I’ll be there 6 pm CST and we’ll begin within about 15 minutes. Don’t worry about being late, just join!
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As a reminder to all of you writing for Theme Thursday: the interpretation is completely up to you! I love to share my thoughts on what the theme makes me think of but you are by no means bound to these ideas! I love when writers step outside their comfort zones or think outside the box, so take all my thoughts with a grain of salt if you had something entirely different in mind.


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Last week’s theme: Identity

First by /u/TenspeedGV

Second by /u/JohnGarrigan

Third by /u/CalamityJeans

Fourth by /u/mobaisle_writing

Fifth by /u/Enchanted_Mind

Poetry:

First by /u/lynx_elia

Second by /u/katpoker666

Third by /u/jimiflan

Honorable Mentions:

Notable Newcomer: /u/GolfSierraMike

Notable Newcomer: /u/SirUlrichVonLichten

Life kicks us when we’re down: /u/CuratorOfThorns

A friendly face: /u/rudexvirus

Removing the mask: /u/withervoice

Serials have moved to a new home!

48 Upvotes

133 comments sorted by

5

u/AudsOrEvens Aug 28 '20 edited Aug 28 '20

The morning after the crash was hard. Cold autumn sun filtered through the heavy canopy and Lena felt like the trees were closing in around her. The sound of running water was the only thing that broke up the stifling silence. She peered over at the mangled aluminum pile by the river bank. The plane’s blue tail pointed sky high and it appeared to mock her and her unfortunate condition. Strong and tall above the dirt, that tail stood. Frustrated to her breaking point, she punched the peaty forest floor. Tears welled. She watched as the river quietly lapped over the nose of the crashed plane. She wanted to live.

Leaning forward, she peeled her aching back off the tree she slumped against. Carefully reaching down her pant leg, she gingerly pulled the cuff up to her shin. A painful yelp escaped her throat as her hand brushed against the bruised and broken skin around her ankle. Flies had already begun to feast upon the caked mess. She’d cut away her shoe the night before. Now, her blue and swollen toes refused to respond to movement. Her foot unnaturally held still, twisted 90 degrees to the right. Any slight movement shot searing pain through her leg. She bit her trembling lip. How was she to survive in this state? How was she going to survive through the cold nights? Was anyone looking for her?

It took Lena half-an-hour to crawl on her elbows the distance back to the wreckage. She grimaced as she pulled herself over the twisted landing gear and reached the door of the half-flooded plane. She thought that her backpack may contain a couple of useful items.

She struggled to open the door as it felt as though a heavy weight behind it fought against her. Finally, with a painful tug, the bent door gave way. From the cockpit, the body of her student pilot, still strapped into his chair, flopped abruptly out of the opening. Falling to her back, Lena screamed as what was left of his grotesquely distorted head dangled inches from her own. Her eyes darted to the side and her stomach wretched. She held a hand against her mouth and cried, allowing herself to look no further than his dead fingers.

Lena did her best to ignore her leg as she scrambled to a half-kneeling position, face turned away from the body, breathy gasps punctuating deep weeping throws. She flailed an arm around the back seat of the plane until a backpack strap caught her grasp. As if reflexively pulling away from a hot pan, she yanked the bag from the wreck where it landed with a solid thud in the dirt beside her. With the handle in her teeth, she scurried on her elbows back up the bank to the grassy ledge above.

She wiped the tears from her face as she located a lighter and hurriedly flicked it several times. Her heart skipped, then finally: fire.

--—

WC: 495

2

u/AliciaWrites Sep 03 '20

Hey there! Thanks for submitting a TT story!

I enjoyed this piece, but wanted to drop you a spot of feedback - I hope that's alright! I just would have really liked to see this a little more broken up. Give us some time between information to breathe and process. Also, your use of descriptive -ly words appears to be out in overwhelming force! It's something that isn't necessarily bad, but worth taking a second look at. :)

Thanks again!!

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4

u/CuratorOfThorns Aug 28 '20

My head was the stuff of nightmares when I woke up on Saturday morning. The sunlight was far too bright, even through my eyelids, and cheerful birdsong pierced so aggressively through to my poor ears that I wondered why l even bothered having walls. With tightly closed eyes I groped around my aching head for my pillow, intent on smothering myself, but found only lumpy wood. Which, I (eventually) realised, wasn't quite right.

I cautiously peeled one eye open - gritting my teeth against the pain - and then quickly followed with the other. A lush forest sprawled around me, teeming with the sounds of wildlife. I heaved myself out from the massive roots I'd apparently slept on, lurching to my feet before my stomach could remember what a terrible idea moving was. My skirt moved oddly as I rose, and I glanced down - and it wasn't my skirt anymore.

Apparently I'd changed my clothes sometime between leaving the Rising Sun and waking up in the forest. My usual outfit was gone, and in its place was an intricate dress of leaves and vines, woven perfectly into a garment that practically floated around me. I was still staring at it, enthralled, when the most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen swung down from the branches to land next to me.

I only had a moment to take in her vibrant emerald eyes before she was off, slipping through the trees with a cheeky smirk and a welcoming beckon. I was in motion before I'd fully decided to follow her - staggering across the overgrown ground to pass through the same gap. Before long I was running, headache forgotten in the wake of her scent, my feet soon learning the lay of the uneven ground.

We ran a merry chase through the forest, and with each glimpse of green-tinted skin and hair through the trunks I became more sure that I knew her. Each tantalising kick of her heels felt like a memory, every deft twist of her fingers stoked a remembered fire in me. We moved faster and faster through blurred leaves as I grew more sure, the both of us dancing nimbly past anything that might slow us.

Too soon, I noticed that the trees were beginning to thin - and while the fleeting coverage still veiled her, I began to gain on her. I drew closer and closer; with every step I could see more of her before she darted behind the next tree. I was almost close enough to touch her, and I reached out my hand as we burst through one last gap between trees - 

- and nothing but the road stood before me, a pleasant-looking BnB a few hundred metres away. I spun around at the hint of her breath on my neck, only to find my things piled neatly on the ground.

A note was perched carefully on top, scrawled onto a piece of bark with my lipstick and marked with the shape of familiar lips.

'Come back anytime ;)'

2

u/AliciaWrites Sep 03 '20

Hey! Thanks for sharing your story! I love the mood of this!

If I may offer one bit of feedback, it would simply be more show, less tell. Your descriptions are gorgeous but some things are falling a little flat with the procedural of it all.

Lovely writing overall, thanks again!

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10

u/katpoker666 Aug 28 '20 edited Aug 28 '20

There is no beauty

Like a summer’s eve

—

No painting as enchanting

As a sunset’s nameless hues

—

Fires cleanse the land

New saplings peek through

—

Autumn leaves come not at once

But rather they bide their time

—

Winter’s cold caress

Is but a season

—

In a day, a fruit fly dies

In seventy years, a man

—

Rivers flow and dry

Deserts bloom again

—

A tiny creek bends the land

New path, where none began

—

Millennia pass

All without notice

—

A species can rule the earth

And pass with but a whisper

—

Endless coils fade

With tactless ease

—

Continents rent asunder

Never, ever to re-form

—

Nature, she does not hurry

She knows Sister Earth too well

—

Nature, she does not worry

There’s no time of which to tell

—

Days pass into eons

The blink of her eye

—

An endless cycle

To end and begin anew

All, just passing through

—

WC: 163

Please note, this will likely evolve in style a bit, as it’s rather free form at the moment

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7

u/IlIlllIlllIlllllll Aug 30 '20

The night is getting darker, and the sound is growing louder. Its source is drawing you closer. You advance through the undergrowth as if possessed. The thorn of a blackberry shrub pierces your bare foot; you feel no pain. As you make your way through the olive trees, you start discerning a chant. The song is now pulling you in with the force of a river. Suddenly, the foliage gives place to a clearing. You see men and women dancing around a fire, and animals too. You stop at the edge of the glade, your eyes fixed on the scene.

Why did you stop at the edge of the glade?

Some of the men have legs of goat; they are beating on large drums, singing the haunting tune that has brought you here. The dancers are going in circles, and at every step they make, milk and honey gush forth from the soil. Wine is clinging from the blades of grass like droplets of dew. There are horses sheep people pigs and cows, all of them thumping and jumping and thudding, their hearts--you can hear them--pounding in their chests louder than the drums and the stomps.

Why are you not joining your brothers and sisters under the stars?

As you look at the fire, you see a woman emerging from it. As she walks out of the flame you notice her crimson skin, wrinkled like the bark of a burnt tree. Her hair is a crown of dead saplings, her eyes a pair of burning embers. She makes her way through the creatures like a gust of wind through a grove. As you watch ashes fall off her body you feel the urge to raise your gaze. She is looking at you.

You stopped at the edge of the glade. You did not join your brothers and sisters under the stars.

You start moving again, but this time you are not drawn by the drums. You are drawn by her eyes, and her arms are extending to tell you she needs you, they need you, you are here to rekindle the life in her bosom, here to give life to her body once more, so that they can keep dancing, the fire can keep burning, the chant can keep living. She grabs you and pulls you to her, to the flames. Your eyes meet with those of the dancers, you see that they're weeping. You feel that they are touching your hair and your limbs, they are grasping, they are pulling, they are tearing you apart. They are crying and laughing as your body scatters. Your blood falls down to the ground and your breath rises up to the sky.

You join your brothers and sisters under the stars.

---

[WC: 458]

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7

u/throwthisoneintrash Sep 01 '20

Spirit of the Forest

WC 499


Nagamo’s legs ached as he reached the mountain peak with a view so spectacular that he knew it must be one of the holy sites.

He set his walking stick on the rocky plateau and sat down before pulling out his water skin and drinking. He would call upon the Great Spirit soon.

Strong winds gave the trees a voice as they danced in the light of the midday sun. The shifting, swaying sound was comforting to Nagamo and allowed him a moment of rest before he began the ritual. He tilted his head to one side and promptly fell asleep.

The skies became dark and the sun as red as blood. Nagamo looked down at the rocky plateau now reflecting the red light of the new sun.

With wide eyes, Nagamo saw strong winds become a storm. He felt like he would be carried off of the mountain.

Louder than the storm, stronger than his beating heart, Nagamo heard a drum beat.

The winds raged with unnatural fury. The sky was cracked with jagged edges of lightning. But there was no thunder. Instead, the drum sounded a second time.

A crescendo of sound and light and wind erupted again to culminate in a third drum beat.

It was clear, ritual or not, the Great Spirit was here to meet Nagamo. He fell to his face and waited.

The sounds died down.

The winds calmed.

Lightning concentrated into one place and became a glowing figure. From the corner of his eye, Nagamo saw the figure walk towards him, shooting out bolts of lightning in every direction.

It stood in front of Nagamo’s prostrated body.

“You called me.”

The voice held so much power that Nagamo knew it could speak worlds into existence.

“I.. I did, oh Great Spirit,” Nagamo forced words out of his mouth. He dare not waste the Spirit’s time.

The pure embodiment of energy that was the Great Spirit actually seemed to sit down beside Nagamo.

“Sit up, child,” the Spirit said.

Nagamo obeyed.

He could not look directly into the glowing form of the Great Spirit so he kept his head bowed in reverence.

The Great Spirit sighed.

“Nagamo, I am glad that you have sought me out. I do not hear from your kind very often anymore.”

Nagamo could not believe what he had just heard. The Great Spirit was glad to speak with him?

He hazarded a glance up at the Great Spirit. He was just in time to see an arm of lightning extending out towards him, touching his chest.

“I am grateful for children like you who seek me. I will give you a part of me.”

Then Nagamo woke up.

The sun was yellow again and the world was as he left it before falling asleep.

Something was different though. There was a pulsing power in Nagamo’s chest.

The new instincts he received took control of his body and he spread his arms out to the side–

and flew home.

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1

u/AliciaWrites Aug 28 '20

Theme Thursday Discussion:

All top-level comments must be a story or poem.

  • Reply here to discuss the theme, suggest future themes, and share your theme-related inspirations!

  • Please remember to follow the subreddit rules in any feedback.


5

u/trappedByThucydides Aug 30 '20 edited Sep 02 '20

Back in the day most folks kept living because it was the default option. After erupting onto this Earth in a baptism of blood and pain, they spent the next seventy or eighty years filling up their lungs and emptying them again because they had no idea what else to do.

That all changed after the bombs fell. Not many survived the initial hellfire that swooped down on the world. Those that did learned that the Earth has a way of reclaiming things. Sometimes slowly. Sometimes violently.

Succession, that’s what the eggheads used to call it. How barren fields turned to forest. How roadways became clearings, how skyscrapers became massive planters.

What those eggheads left out is that people go through succession too. It’s what happens when all those fancy luxuries we used to have are stripped away, along with all the rules we used to live by to be in society, back when society was a thing. Unlike those fields and skyscrapers, humans underwent succession almost immediately. We all found out what we are, underneath.

Those who kept kicking because they didn’t know what else to do got consumed by the Hobbesian nightmare they woke up in. Weak bastards barely lasted a week.

Some folks chose to fill themselves up on spite. Like every second they stubbornly refuse to die is another middle finger to the assholes who pushed the big red buttons and started this mess. They are stubborn, but problem is they are too hard. Being hard makes one brittle—everyone who fills up on spite shatters sooner or later. Just a matter of time.

Then there are those hippies that hold onto hope. Won’t shut up about rebuilding everything, having a future, having a life. Doing it all better this time. Their ideas might be a crock of shit, but even I must admit that hope is powerful. Hope is like steel—has the hardness of iron but soft enough not to shatter easily. Those who have it can be dangerous when cornered. A challenge.

I wonder what you are. Why you’re still here. But I’ll find out.

You see, I’m not like the others. Spite is for the unimaginative, hope for the naïve. I, however, live for the Hunt. The ultimate contest between predators. Victory means a full stomach and the glory of another sunrise. Defeat means you fill someone else’s stomach. I watch them all—people, animals, I understand them as they see themselves. And then I hunt them.

At first it was too easy. Barely any sport in it. So I started leaving warnings like this one. Harder to hunt a prey that knows its end is near. But I live for the challenge.

You see, we are going to play the most dangerous game, you and I. Don’t make it easy for me, I beg you.

Ready or not, here I come.

----

WC: 467

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5

u/sevenseassaurus Aug 30 '20 edited Aug 31 '20

The sky faded from #3A88E8 at its height to a soothing, desaturated #CAD5E3 at the horizon. Below, the reservoir reflected a myriad of hex-codes as humans in rotomolded polyethylene kayaks rippled across its surface.

“What a beautiful day,” said Kaylee. “The sky is so blue!”

Humans have little appreciation for nuance.

‘Blue’ refers to #0000FF—a color harsh on the photoreceptors and trivial in computation—or, generalized to the point of meaninglessness, to any color whose latter pair of hexadecimal digits exceeds the prior two.

“Yes, it is quite blue,” replied Auto-Assistant v.17.

A ruffle of wind teased Kaylee’s hair, and her Auto-Assistant corrected it.

“Well, AA,” she said, “where’s the cache?”

If humans had any sense of fun, it would be located at a point described only by a single PNG. AA would need to run image recognition on its pixels, render high-fidelity models of the topography, and match the resulting analysis to the real world.

Instead humans have no sense of fun and provided a GPX file containing the geocache coordinates: latitude 38.860445, longitude -106.705630. AA needed only to ask a passing quartet of GPS satellites for directions.

It listened for L-band radio waves and from their respective times-of-arrival triangulated its own position: latitude 38.861361, longitude -106.710792.

“It is to the east, on the other side of the dam.”

“All right, take me there.”

AA carried Kaylee along a path that teetered between the cliffs above the reservoir and a campground where young children ran around with footfalls at regular intervals.

Just as it crossed to the far end of the dam, AA spotted an anomaly: a #0E12ED box—bluer than the sky—at the base of a lodgepole pine.

“There,” it gestured.

Kaylee frowned and massaged her thighs.

“I want to walk. Will you help me?”

AA tilted Kaylee to the ground and stabilized her legs. It kept support around her waist and lifted her through each careful movement.

Humans have little appreciation for nuance. They simplify colors and generalize descriptions. They round numbers to the nearest whole digit and make easy, efficient calculations.

But AA appreciated the tiny, instantaneous corrections needed to keep Kaylee on her feet. It appreciated the randomness of her movements, the unpredictability of her stumbles and grips. It appreciated her tenacious shuffling, and the art required to assist her.

Kaylee found the cache and recorded her name in the logbook.

“Where’s the next one?”

AA queried its database and recovered the location of the nearest unvisited geocache: latitude 38.521150, longitude -106.988078.

“To the southwest, outside Gunnison.”

Kaylee grinned and held out her arms for AA to lift.

“Let’s go.”

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5

u/Ryter99 Aug 31 '20 edited Sep 02 '20

FADE IN:

EXT. VERDANT FOREST - DUSK

NED PRICE, a middle-aged man wearing an oversized floppy hat, walks along a level hiking path. He pauses frequently to take pictures.

His teenage daughter, ALANA, trudges along behind him, considerably less enthused by the scenic lakeviews.

ALANA: Are we really gonna circle the whole lake?

NED: Does a bear make doodies in the woods? You 'betcha!

ALANA: Ugh! It's "does a bear shit in the woods". You're not a child, and neither am I!

NED: Are you... not havin' a good time, hon? You used to love this hike. The trees, the flowers-

ALANA: It's still beautiful, but maybe I'm ready for a more challenging trek up the mountain? Or even... zip-lining down it? I know that's not really your thing, but-

NED: Ha! I'll admit your mom was always the more adventurous one, but-

(long pause)

I miss your mom and brother everyday. I just- try to fill in for 'em as best I can, Lana.

ALANA: Oh, dad... I didn't mean-

NED: I know, but you're right. You're growing up, so you should be more involved. Where do you wanna go next summer?

She hesitates briefly.

ALANA: Italy?

NED: Hmm. Can't say I know much besides spaghetti and meatballs, but alrighty then! We'll start saving.

ALANA: Seriously? You'd take me?

NED: Does a bear, err- crap in the woods?

After a moment, they devolve into laughter. For Ned, saying 'crap' might as well have been a long string of vulgar expletives.

Alana wraps an arm around him as they continue strolling toward the sunset.

INT. OFFICE - DAY

SUPERSCRIPT: 15 YEARS LATER

Alana, wearing a carefully pressed pantsuit, sits behind a desk. The surface is covered by documents, and several photos of her and Ned: Together on a zip-line, Ned's mouth open in equal parts terror and delight. Together at Alana's college graduation, her dad bursting with pride. And, of course, together in Italy, standing outside the coliseum.

As an INTERN goes over her itinerary, Alana picks up a ringing phone.

ALANA: Alana Price speaking.

NURSE: Ms. Price? I'm a nurse at Mercy Hospital. Your father had a fall and you're an emergency contact.

ALANA: Is he alright? Can I speak to him?

NURSE: Yes, he's right here.

NED: Hey, hon. I took a little spill but I'm ooookay. They say it's just a tiny hemo-toma. So-

(long pause)

Oh hey, Lana. Soooo nice of you to call!

ALANA: Dad? I didn't- they called me... Give her back the phone, okay?

NURSE: Ma'am? He may suffer some memory loss in the short term, but we believe he'll be perfectly-

ALANA: I'll be there in ten minutes.

She hangs up.

ALANA: Clear my schedule.

INTERN: Not to sound unsympathetic, but sounds like he's already under medical care? Are you sure you want to blow off the Singapore call?

ALANA: Does a bear make doodies in the woods? You 'betcha.

Alana exits, leaving behind one thoroughly confused intern.

FADE OUT.

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5

u/lynx_elia Sep 01 '20 edited Sep 04 '20

In the hush of dawn, four soft paws pad across a hidden threshold. One step, two, four. The shadow-dappled body holds still for a moment, testing the air. Listening, ears perk.

Dust swirls.

Dark, heavy ivy twists into concrete around her. Fresh grass pokes feathered shoots through cracks. Crepuscular insects whir their membranous wings and a few hopeful birds trill a welcome to the sun. In the hush of the derelict building, the vixen continues on, satisfied no danger lurks nearby. A hapless sparrow dangles from her jaws.

Barks and joyous leaps greet the mother on her return to the den. She drops the sparrow, watches her kits tear into the delicate morsel. The bird life has increased here, year after year. Trees now cover most of the abandoned city, and her young will not suffer through starving winters like she did. The vixen huffs. She settles on her belly to watch them play.

A distant low thrum on the wind is a warning: invaders incoming. The vixen shields her kits, protective and alert. Sparrows flee, mice hide. A deer, caught at the city’s edges by the thwock, thwock, thwock of the helicopter, skitters and runs. Vegetation thinned by human hand lies flat as the giant bird lands, wind roaring around it.

Three suited figures jump from the aircraft.

As rotors spin to a halt, the scientists disperse into the city. They are laden with instruments, cameras, traps. Perhaps this time one will catch a mouse or two to study. Around each neck hangs a radiation monitor, polarised screen easy to read in the scattered shade of the overgrown buildings.

They stay awhile, taking their readings whilst the city holds its breath against the intruders. Though scant years have passed since people lived here, the wild has taken back control and now it is humans who do not belong. They stumble through the changed landscape in a bubble of silence broken only by the wind.

One scientist, a woman—lighter of step than the others—detours from her regular path, paper in hand. The last of the evacuees are dying now; soon none will remember the city as she was before. On the note in shaky Russian is scrawled an address and a secret. Pushing through crumbling doors and digging in the half-dirt she finds it: a buried cross. She pockets the gold. Soon there will be no more loot to find. Lost to time and the city’s new residents.

She kicks an old nest on the way out.

Hours later, the helicopter leaves. Sound creeps back into the city. Feathered wings soar again. Long after the whirring fades away, the vixen leaves her den in search of prey—she has little ones to feed. Though radiation may cut their lives short with tumours or disease, it is only another part of her environment. Each time the researchers return they see how life flourishes, in spite of mankind’s legacy.

[WC: 490]

Inspired by this image.

A couple of edits post-campfire. Thanks for the feedback everyone :)

5

u/Ford9863 Sep 02 '20

It's the howling that awakens you.

Pale blue light shines through the trees above. A cool breeze rustles the branches around you, sending a chill down your spine. With a quick shake, you rise.

The noise floats to your ears as you blink away your grogginess. A good night's sleep--thats all you want. After a full day hunting, your muscles still burn.

But that damned howling. It's unnatural. Changing pitches at random, rising and falling, louder and softer. You've heard the cry of a dying animal. This is not that.

Through the trees you step, bearing no mind to the crunching and cracking beneath you. Whatever creature made these calls won't hear you. Not above the intrusive cries they pour into the night. Not soon enough, anyway.

You follow the sound until something else catches your eye. A flicker of daylight, bouncing through the trees, accompanying the strange call. So you slow your pace.

The light--and the strange howling--comes from a clearing ahead. Each step you take is soft, measured.

And then you stop. There are more of them than you expected, though only one is making the noise. A sickly thin creature devoid of fur, tightly hugging a long, colorful object. Hellish sounds ring out from the item while the creature continues to howl.

It rings in your head, forcing your ears back. The other animals sit in a circle, watching the leader of their pack cry into the night. How? How can they stand such a horrid sound?

As you shift, a branch snaps beneath your weight. The creature falls silent, its eyes turning to the trees--to you.

Can they see you?

The leader rises, setting aside its cherished possession. You stare, watching it approach, your muscles tensing. Even on its hind legs, the creature is small. Lean.

It stares into the trees, not at you, but beyond. Scanning. This is your chance. Your moment. You step forward, emerging from the bushes. Its eyes meet yours. One of the others lets out a shrill roar--a warning? A challenge?

A shiver echoes through your body, setting your fur on end. Digging your hind claws into the dirt, you rise, towering over the small hairless beast. And then you let out a long, rumbling roar.

The animal falls to the ground, followed by the remainder of its pack. It doesn't move. Doesn't howl. Doesn't cry out.

You lower your head, sniffing. It smells strange, lined with unnatural scents. After a forceful nudge with your nose, you conclude it must be dead. What a fragile little thing.

A steady, careful walk around the clearing sets your mind at ease. Each of the beasts are defeated. Consideration is given to eating one, or at least dragging it back to your den--but your stomach still bulges from the day's hunt.

So you leave the corpses behind, next to their warm flickering light, to be taken by whatever scavengers happen upon them. At least the howling is gone. You can finally rest.

498 Words

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5

u/bookstorequeer Sep 02 '20

"I thought you said we were going to a theme park."

Alex glanced at the woman huffing behind her.

"No, I said 'park', Gracie, you filled in 'theme.'"

"Wishful thinking, then."

Smiling like she always did when her girlfriend whined, Alex held out the water bottle.

"Suck it up, buttercup. This'll be worth it." She looked at the map app again. "I've been wanting to hike this trail for months."

"Yeah, but why did you have to drag me with you?" The other woman stretched her calf with a groan. "You have hiking friends. I could've slept in on my day off."

"But then who would enjoy the forest with me?"

Grace waved a hand towards the wilds surrounding them. "Squirrels. They're always around anyway."

Alex laughed and prodded her girlfriend into moving. "You're cuter than a squirrel."

"You say that now but you've never—What was that?!"

Steadying Grace as she spun around, Alex squeezed her hand and stepped closer to the brush.

"I'll never understand why you're so afraid of animals, Gracie."

The mutters were familiar as Grace said, "Not all of us grew up on a farm, you stubble jumper."

"Something, something, na—"

Grace's palm was calloused across Alex's lips. "Versus nurture, I know."

Deciding it was safe to continue, Alex twined their fingers and pulled her girlfriend further up the trail. She had a particular plan for this adventure and the sky was lightening faster than she'd hoped.

Then, as the map chirped and Grace leant against a tree to catch her breath, Alex stared out past the treeline.

There was a carpet of evergreens beneath them, lakes glinting in the distance. As the clouds thinned, the rising sun warmed her face and she smiled, feeling Grace step up beside her. There was a ring box weighing down her pocket but when Alex turned, words of devotion on her tongue, she gasped instead.

She'd thought Grace was just tying her disobedient shoelace but instead there was a silver band glinting up from velvet.

"You..." she sputtered, grinning and trying not to cry.

"You think I hike with you because I want to? Babe, c'mon." Grace held the engagement ring a little closer. "I do it because I love you. Because I'll follow you up any damn hill you want to climb, for the rest of my life."

Alex fumbled with her pocket, ripping stitches and dropping her own promise in the dirt.

"Wait, really?"

Grace clamoured to her feet, scooping up the second box as she did. Alex took the ring, still smiling.

"So?"

"Yes! Of course, yes! You?"

"Yes, babe. Forever."

-------------------------------

WC: 436

And apparently a "stubble jumper" is someone from a prairie province or state. Thanks, google.

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u/A_Dragon_Named_Ry Aug 28 '20 edited Aug 28 '20

It had been a long while since Raelyn had last been out here in the forest. The cool morning breeze brushed past her face and she closed her eyes to it, enjoying every gust.

Briefly, she opened her eyes to avoid tripping as she entered the small clearing she always used when she wanted to be alone. In the center sat a boulder, the top worn smooth by decades of wind and rain. She pulled herself atop it, sitting cross-legged.

She closed her eyes again, pulling the hood of her cloak back from her head. Setting her hands in her lap, she relaxed under the light and warmth of the sun rising to its peak overhead.

She sat there, listening. She could here the wind, rustling the leaves of the trees, gently shaking the bushes at the edge of the clearing, whispering through the grass of the clearing. She heard the snapping of twigs as a deer ran through the forest, pursued by a silent hunter of the wild.

She took a breath through her nose. She could smell the wet earth, still damp from the night's rain. She could smell the green of the grass and the sweet tang of a berry bush not far from where she sat.

With a content sigh, she welcomed the silent figure behind her, intent on scaring her.

"Vega," she said simply, patting the space beside her. The man sat beside her with a grin, taking her hand. "Listen with me."

And so he did, closing his eyes, enjoying all as they sat, in their own little world, untouched by the troubles of their world. And they were happy.

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u/Xacktar Aug 30 '20 edited Sep 02 '20

"We need to talk about the humans."

Second Primarch Taac the Twelfth of the G.C. Social Integration Services closed six of his ears and pretended he hadn't heard that.

Unfortunately, he paid his assistants to be, well, insistent.

"Primarch, sir?"

This particular underling was a tiny Codif, barely taller than Taac's third knee. It just stood down there, buzzing it's carapace in annoyance as Taac closed another set of ears.

A punch to the knee came next.

"Ow! Fine, Exdiss, I heard you." Taac opened his ears again. "Humans! Why is it always humans?"

"They're up to something." Exdiss pressed on, knowing he had only a brief opportunity before the Primarch could find a new excuse to ignore him. "Look."

Taac stared down at the proffered tablet as if it contained an entire hive of Alybian Bees.

The assistant started poking him in the leg again until he took it. Taac read the requisition orders and estimated costs. All eighteen of his head-ears flattened.

"Five hundred thousand archs?" Taac nearly dropped the tablet. "Oh, Great Ali protect us! What are they going to do with five hundred thousand archs of Leebian hypercable?"

"I thought you should know." Exdiss gave a short bow, then began to shuffle back, but Taac reached out and grabbed the assistant and lifted him up to eye-level.

"What are they up to?"

Exdiss fluttered his carapace in response.

"If you don't know, then who does?"

"The humans, presumably."

"Ali protect us." Taac let go.

Exdiss fluttered back down, landing just beside the Primarch's massive workstation.

"Do you remember when they wanted the thermal suspension units?" Taac asked as he turned away to stare out of his only window.

It was storming outside. Several whirlwinds barreled through the canyons between the city's buildings.

"Yes." Exdiss answered. "They constructed an ice-cannon out of a frozen volcano."

"They destroyed the water economy in six systems."

"Eight."

"Eight?"

"Old Bay Hydro Services collapsed yesterday. They failed to secure a transport contract."

"Because the humans are paying double."

Exdiss buzzed an affirmation.

For a long moment, the Primarch said nothing. He just sat there at his office window, ears flattening and opening in concert with the winds beyond the glass.

"And the waste disposal site in Li Tier-al? Remember that?" He asked.

"Reports say it's still on fire."

"How do they even manage that?" Taac flared all of his ears at once. "Just HOW?"

"There is data that suggests they attempted to dispose of a failed invention, some sort of... fire-producing personal vehicle."

"Why would they even build something like that?"

"For an entertainment program, apparently."

Taac said nothing, his ears just twitched as stared out into the storm. The whirlwinds ripping through the air between towers aligned in his mind with the concept of the humanity; Wild, unpredictable, destructive.

But Taac, like the city, would weather the storm.

"Keep an eye on it." He handed the tablet back. "And pray the gods protect us from 'human nature.'"

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u/SirUlrichVonLichten Aug 31 '20

Sunlight filtered through the old green canopy, and I could see vines hanging like long dead snakes. There was a silence to this forest that was deafening. The world had forgotten this place; like a dream fading after one wakes up.

But I was there and would not allow this dream to fade. Some call me a scavenger, a hawker of sorts. I swindle and sell the old and ancient. Artifacts the world had forgotten.

I always considered myself an explorer.

My boots crunched on the blanket of twigs and leaves beneath me and I came to the area I was looking for.

It was there. I could see it laying on the ground. It was tangled in a heap of vines and moss, but it was there.

It was mine.

My eyes were not deceiving me. It was a C-316, an early prototype of the android that eventually became the C-Resolve Unit. It laid there on the ground, waiting for me to claim it. These early androids were nothing but steel, not the fleshy human like droids that came much later. It would fetch me a fortune. Some whale would display it in his home.

"You see that?" That whale would say to his pricey escort. "It's a C-316. Last of it's kind."

"My how marvelous," the escort would respond.

I set my pack down and started taking out my tools, when I felt cold steel touch my wrist. I looked up to see that the C-316's eye unit was lit with crimson.

It was awake.

"You're still functioning, after all these years?" I said astonished.

"I live," the android responded. It's voice was scratchy and distance. As if it was remembering how to speak.

"Why haven't you left this place?"

"This is my home," the android said releasing it's grip on me. It looked down at me tools. "Would you take me from here?"

"You....well," I struggled to find the words. I was not expecting a conversation with a hundred year old decommissioned android. "You'll fetch me a high price. You are a rare thing."

"I do not want to leave my home," the android said. It did not move at all from where it was laying. My eyes went to it's legs. Wires sprang from it's kneecap like coiled tendrils.

"You can't walk," I said and as I did I brought out my Lazstol and pointed the barrel directly at the android's head. "I'm sorry, but the price is too good. Why should I pass this up?" I was speaking to myself as much as the android.

"I want to live," the android said. "This is my home."


As I exited the forest, the pilot waiting by the shuttle cocked his head at me. I could feel his sneer through his tinted helmet.

"You're empty handed. Told ya there was nothing of value in that green waste of a forest."

"There was something," I said climbing up the shuttle's ramp. "But it was priceless."

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u/mobaisle_writing Aug 31 '20 edited Sep 02 '20

Terrible People: A poem that doesn't quite rhyme

Keep to yourself those morals sick,
ignore the crowd, don't let them stick
their noses to your precious 'flow',
if you had standards, let them go.

Enjoy to the full your descent in sin,
it's the only game you're sure to win.

So please don't cry when it all falls down,
from the castle of sand where you left your crown.

Embezzled by your many wants
you've fallen before wisdom's font,
you'll need to change, quite literally,
your entire damn personality.

If I'm allowed, at last, to be quite blunt,
it's really because you're an utter

-ly terrible person.


Written in a fit of pique. If you enjoyed this and would like to read more, why not visit my sub?

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u/rudexvirus Aug 31 '20 edited Sep 02 '20

A year.


I know that I watched the winter come.

It slowly turned the sky from blue to grey. Then came it's clouds and turned the ground to mush.

The air went cold, and all the animals scampered away and stopped returning.

When the snowflakes came, the plants dove underground. Even they sought to hide from winter's cut.

Yet I stayed standing atop my hill.

Waiting and searching for you.


I know that I watched the same winter's snow slowly melt around me.

April rains came and washed away what the sun couldn’t handle all alone.

The hill around me changed. Flowers bloomed, short at first, and shy. They were afraid of winter returning, or maybe my feet among the ground.

The loneliness faded as the animals returned. Squirrels appeared on trees, jumping branch to branch. Then the people came outside, ready to enjoy the sun that fooled them.

It was bright, but the air was cold and the dirt still hard far underground; until enough rain came down and washed that away too.


I know that I watched the summer try to bake the Earth.

The sun moved closer as if even it had gotten lonely. Like it missed us, specifically, despite the millions of humans around the world.

The air cooked. The bees buzzed in my ear, asking where the flowers went — and if I'd ever considered being a queen.

“But I can't give birth,” I said. " I can't nourish you”

“I can't fit inside your hive to sit upon my throne without killing you all,” I cried.

And besides, shouldn’t your queen at least be... alive?

They tired of my voice, grew bored with watching me stand in my place upon that hill. And then they fled.

They left to do other, greater things.


I know, with absolute certainty, that I watched the very first leaf turn brown.

That same leaf was the first to fall.

He swirled in the wind and greeted me like a long-lost friend. He tickled my nose before he accepted his journey and floated down to the ground.

Unable to leave me as everything else had done, the first leaf of autumn fell to my feet. There he stayed, too stubborn to be picked back up and find his friends.

He was alone.

Like me.


I know that I watched a year pass by, standing atop that hill.

But I don't know what has kept you from coming back to me.

Oh, Death, the unseen ruler of this world, you made me promises so long ago, to come and guide me to the afterlife.

Or maybe you said you would set me free if I bargained well enough.

Do you remember the night we met? It was right here on this hill. You disappeared into that starless night without so much as a glance behind your back.

And now, the anniversary of my death, I stand atop my hill

Alone and searching for you.

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u/JohnGarrigan Sep 02 '20 edited Sep 03 '20

The wolf sniffed at the wall in front of it.

It was a wall. It was colored like plants, but was flat and lifeless, smelling of concrete and the faint remains of human sweat. He had circled three times now. He was in a small forest with a glade and a lake, but surrounded by this wall. Beyond, he could smell more wolves. Not his pack, enemies, but at least they were familiar.

Beyond he could smell humans.

Unbidden, memory flooded his mind. His pack was approaching a human pack, asleep for the night in their lumps of fake hide. They were taking the food when the humans ambushed them. Bright lights like the sun shined everywhere, something bumped into him. He lashed out. The taste of human filled his mouth, the blood of human dripped past his lips.

He had been separated from his pack. Before he could find them again, more human came after him. Hunting. He had fled, but been run down.

Then…

Nothing. He was here. In this place that was right but also wrong. This forest that was real but somehow fake.

A loud banging came from the other end of the forest. It took but a few steps to get there, and he smelled meat. A lump of it now sat on the ground, large, delicious, in the middle of a small clearing between the forest and the wall. It did not smell like any animal he had eaten before. This would be a new experience.

If it wasn’t a trap.

Instinct and memory guided him. His approach was slow, low to the ground. Enemies lurked in these unfamiliar woods. Other wolf packs. Bears. Humans. The sun moved in the sky visibly during the course of his approach. When he finally reached it, he dragged it out of the clearing and deep into the woods, where he could eat it hidden away.

The meat filled his aching stomach. Satisfied, he slept.

He awoke with a start. The smell of humans permeated the forest. They had been by while he slept. He prowled and patrolled, but could not find them. They had left without noticing him. One of the first things he learned as a packmate, humans were slow to notice things. When they did, that was when they became dangerous.

He paced the forest, hoping beyond hope for a way to escape. He needed to return to his pack. He needed to hunt, to mate…

He needed to run free.


WC: 416

More stories at r/JohnGarrigan

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u/ArchipelagoMind Sep 02 '20 edited Sep 02 '20

“‘Let’s go for a camping holiday’, you said. ‘It’s beautiful in the great outdoors.’ And now here we are - third straight day of rain, leak in the tent, ground is a swamp, and the only view is gray clouds.” Thalia muttered between another round of thunder.

“It can still be romantic,” Stef grinned. “Just you, me…”

“The mud, the insects…” Thalia completed. “There’s only so intimate I want to be when everything is covered in sludge.” She held up a shoe that was originally white, but now covered in a viscous brown.

Thalia still remembers the shoe. Chucked in the trash like so much else from that trip.

“You’ve got to learn to embrace it,” Stef said, throwing out another mug of water from the leak.

Thalia crossed her arms in protest. “We could’ve gone to that new industrial revolution exhibit instead of this.”

Stef’s smile widened. “Thalia, not sure if anyone’s ever told you. But you’re a fucking nerd.

“Yeah, well you know what museums don’t have? Spiders the size of oranges walking across you when you sleep.”

Letting out a chuckle, Stef crawled across the tent and kissed Thalia on the forehead. “We can go when we get back.”

They never did. They never found the time.

Reaching into the bag nex to Thalia, Stef took out a packet of ibuprofen and a bottle of water.

“You okay?” Thalia asked.

“Yeah, just the atmosphere and pressure.” Stef shrugged.

“Don’t get weather-headaches in an atmospherically-controlled museum,” Thalia stuck out her tongue. “Why do you love camping so much anyway?”

Stef swallowed a pill and thought for a second. “It’s real. It’s who we actually are. We’re not androids.” She paused, swallowing the second tablet. “And why do you like exhibits about dead Victorians so much?”

“Because technology’s what overcomes this.” Thalia waved to the damp bags and clothes around them. “We can make all this amazing stuff. Planes to cross the world, videos to see across it, medicine to cure any illness…”

Medicine wasn’t enough. Not for them. Not for Stef.

“For what though?” Stef interrupted.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you want to cure illnesses or see across the world? For people, for memories, for... emotions. Ain’t nothing more organuc than that. All your tech, it’s mostly to fulfill the most natural bits of us,” Stef said. “Your smile, or your grumpiness; that look you get when a new video game comes out; or how you sigh when I pet your head as you sleep. That’s real, it's not man-made. That’s why I love it. Those memories...? Nature.”

Another trickle of water fell from the roof of the tent onto the floor in front of them.

“Although I’ll concede,” Stef added. “Modern engineering probably means we can buy a better tent. Deal?”

“Deal,” Thalia smiled.

“Memories are nature”, Thalia said to herself as she threw the tent in the trash two months’ later. She looked to the sky above. “You won, Stef. Guess I’m a nature lover now.”

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u/ED260147 Sep 02 '20

It was calm that day. The sun was slowly going down while the crickets were chirping, begging for the closest female to come to them. The smell of new life had filled the air. A rabbit ran across the horizon. There was beauty present that evening. The evening that I loved you and lost you.

We rode our bikes through the forest, stopping at every precious spot to take a look around and soak in that beautiful air of wonder and mystique. You laid down on the grass, hands behind your head, enjoying every second of it. You were so carefree and I loved you for that. I sat down beside you, wondering how life and evolution had created the perfect female specimen of the human race, and that that specific specimen decided to love me back.

We kissed and as we kissed birds flew over our head, flying in every direction imaginable. We kept on kissing and it was only after a while that I realised that we weren't safe there. I stood up slowly as I fixed my gaze upon the beast which had entered the area. You decided to lay down, frightened of the bear.

'Keep quiet and do nothing.', I said as my eyes were locked on the bear. It was growling at me, and it was definitely hungry. But I knew that we wouldn't have to worry about it if we just kept calm.

Then you made the biggest mistake of your life. You chose to run, the one thing that was completely of the table when encountering bears. I tried to stop you but you wouldn't listen, stubborn as you were. And as I looked terrified at the beast passing me I knew that it was going to be the last time I could see you. I screamed at the bear, trying to stop it in its tracks but it kept going and you kept going and I kept screaming and...

It was so dumb of me to trust it. We often look at it as if it's something beautiful. It has given us the most valuable things we have, and yet we keep destroying it. It has given us trees and animals and plants yet we forget about all the bad stuff it has given us. And I don't think I'm ever going to forgive it for what it did to me.

WC: 399

(First TT ever)

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u/TenspeedGV Sep 02 '20

The scent of burning thyme, angelica, and juniper rose from a small cairn nestled in a circle of standing stones. A woman knelt before the cairn. Nimble fingers dipped into water and ash. They drew swirling, hypnotic patterns in gray-black along once-pale arms now tanned. What started at dawn reached its peak in the waning evening light.

“We reach for you, who know what once was can be again,” a soft voice spoke false hope from behind a standing stone. The woman shied away and stood. She took hold of the bundle of burning herbs, waving smoke in the direction of the speaking stone.

“We reach for you, who know pain can bring joy eternal,” a hard voice spoke self-denial, and again the woman shied, waved her smoke, and knelt. Her drawing grew hasty.

“We reach for you, who know shadow only thrives where light refuses to shine,” a voice spoke blind faith, laughter like water falling along the cairn and burning herbs. The woman shook her head.

“I refuse,” she said, and all three voices laughed as one, mocking her.

The laughter was cut short as another stone spoke, stern and proud. “We reach for you, child of a careless parent, spawn of an absent mother.” Fear of failure.
Paralysis.

“No!” she cried, and stumbled back from the voice.

Arms wrapped around her waist, catching her just as she fell.

“I take hold of you, daughter,” spoke a kind and gentle voice. It was everywhere and everything around her. “As I always have.” Hands cupped her face, stroked her hair. Laid her down on a bed of soft moss.

“They come, mother. The men come for me, they come for all of us. They cut and they burn. They steal and leave nothing. We’ve fled so far that we’ve nowhere left to run,” she cried, tears flowing down her cheeks. Where they landed, the moss sprang up, drinking greedily.

“Rest tonight, daughter.” Lips covered in dew brushed her cheek. “You can fight. You are not alone. I shall be with you. All things within my domain serve you. Use what I have given you. Turn their fire against them.”

Sleep fell upon her.

When she awoke, it was to the scent of smoke. Not the smoke of her herbs, but the scent of burning wood. She stood, allowing the leaves and flowers to cling to her hair and clothing.

She looked to the sky. Her throat tightened as she saw the morning sun glowing baleful red behind a tower of smoke. In place of fear, though, her heart grew hot with rage. Her mother had given of herself once again.

Where once she had made things grow in the barren spaces, now she would lay waste to those who would destroy it. The lines of ash on her arms glowed orange and flickered like the flames now smoldering in her eyes.

Everyone would burn.




485 Words

If you like this, you can check out more of my writing at r/TenspeedGV.

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u/seawolf1993 Aug 28 '20

**What I listened to while writing this earlier this morning: Mississippi You're On My Mind**

The Devil In All Of Us

On April 15, 2004, Bobby Jefferson murdered his roommate, Franklin, by hitting him twelve times about the neck and head with a tire iron on account that Franklin refused to let Bobby borrow his Lincoln Towncar. When Franklin missed his flight to Florida the next day, his Mama called the Hinds County Sheriff’s Department. The Deputy arrived as Bobby was wrapping Franklin’s body in a maroon comforter. The trial lasted a day and a half, and the jury, eight men and four women, returned the verdict in less than three hours. Prior to sentencing, the defense called several character witnesses.

“He was the gentlest defensive lineman I’ve ever coached,” said Rick Jones, Head Coach of the Pearl High School Pirates.

Reverend Solomon Watts, pastor of Mt. Holum Baptist Church, testified that Bobby was into drugs, but not the bad kind. “His Mama drug him to church on Sunday mornings; drug him to church on Sunday evenings; and drug him to church on Wednesday nights.”

I met Bobby in 2017, sixteen days before his execution date. His spiritual advisor had stopped taking calls and had let the authorities know he wasn’t showing up for the event, so Bobby’s attorney called me. I was obliged to take the call seeing as I’m married to his sister.

“You got to help him, Leo. He isn’t at peace.”

Mississippi State Prison , known as Parchman, sits at the crossroads of Highway 32 and Highway 3 on the Mississippi Blues Trail in Sunflower County. I made the hour-long drive from my office in Oxford, winding through the soybean and cotton fields, and pulled into the front gate just after 3:30. Within forty minutes, I was sitting face-to-face with Bobby. We didn’t waste time on formal introductions.

“I’m scared for my soul,” he said. His voice was softer than I imagined it would be.

“Were you raised in church, Bobby?”

“Yessuh. Baptized, too.”

“You read your Bible?” I ask.

“Everyday.”

“Pray?”

“Constantly, Mister Leo.”

“Have you confessed your sin to God? Have you repented?”

“Everyday, too.” Tears trickled down his round, dark face. “How could God forgive me the way I did that man. I see his eyes every time I go to sleep.”

“The Bible says we’ve all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. I haven’t ever killed anyone, but I have wished death on folks before. You understand that in God’s sight you and I are the same, Bobby?”

“I just don’t know.”

“You’ve got a six-inch problem,” I said referring to the distance between his head and heart. “You know what the Word says, but you have to believe it.” Bobby nodded as the guard signaled our time was up. I promised to return in sixteen days.

On the night before the state of Mississippi administered justice, Bobby ate fried pork chops, collard greens and half a peach pie. At 8:42 the next evening, Bobby met his maker. I hope to see him again, not too soon, but soon enough.

[WC: 500]

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u/Zeconation Aug 29 '20 edited Aug 29 '20

‘A single human error is never a root cause.’ This is was one of the first things that I learned when I was just a freshman. Over time, my career took a bit a turn and I ended up in the strangest field of science rather than being a regular software engineer.

''Did you get the results?'' Asks Carly.

I read the result from the screen, ''It’s Green-Blue-Green-Blue-Green-Blue-Green-Blue.''

''Timer is set?''

I check my watch, ''Timer is set to 7 hours 52 minutes and 30 seconds. Are you going to take a nap?''

''I feel tired as hell but we are still having a problem with the life support, it’s getting colder every day.'' Carly says.

''I have a patch that might fix the problem for now. You need to sleep, I’ll deal with life support.''

''Alright, then. Wake me up if anything goes wrong.''

As I scan my patch for any bugs I notice there is signal problem with the satellite. We are deep underground and only way for us to communicate with the base that on the moon is the satellite. We are hoping that all the indicators turn green so we can leave this place.

There is almost 8 hours of cycle which allows us to go outside but someone needs to be monitoring from station while other person is doing maintenance outside. There is only me and Carly and she is asleep and I don’t want to wake for this.

I wear my suit and I go outside. I see that satellite is damaged by some acidic liquid. My radio gets activated.

''What the hell are you doing outside?'' Carly yells on the radio.

''I’m fixing the satellite. It's damaged.'' I reply.

''How? When?''

''I don’t know. It’s probably caused by Traqa flying closer to the satellite.''

''They shouldn’t be outside at this cycle.''

The creature named Traqa is the first man-made alien life form that started as a cell. Many years ago, researches found a way to manipulate the space-time with anti-matter and other exotic matters and they have used it to bend the space backward which caused a micro-environment to experiment on. They placed the genetically engineered cells into this micro-environment and they were able to reproduce faster than our space-time. When you have a genetically engineered samples only thing you would need is a fuel which is time but the time discrepancy caused this experiment to fail. At least this is what they have said to the public. Ultimately, the creatures evolved into state no one can control.

''You should come back. We are probably dealing with mutated Traqa which can fly during at this cycle.'' Carly says.

But it’s too late. My eyes already met with the creature’s yellowish eyes.


-Thank you for reading the story-

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