Saturday, December 31, 2016

100 Words a Day 985: Guest Post - Malik Turley

Here's on by Malik Turley, budding author.

Bent at all the wrong angles, the creature trudged through the empty streets, searching. It could smell what it was seeking and believed it to be within reach. As it rounded the corner the pool came into view. The smell was no match for the beauty - still and with an inviting sheen of mist on top.

It paused, just for a moment, before lumbering into the water, disturbing the stillness and disrupting the mist. As the water surrounded it, all the bends began to straighten and the creature’s mouth stretched into a wide smile.
Fully submerged.
Finally free.
Released.

Friday, December 30, 2016

100 Words a Day 984

When it comes to the Endless Castle with its Innumerable Doors, keys are power. The more powerful someone is the further away you can hear them coming, clinking with every step. The most important individuals develop a lean to one side and a limp from the weight of their keyrings, which sometimes became bigger around than a beer barrel.


The keys to the Innumerable Doors were as varied as the doors they opened. There were doors whose keys were three dimensional. And some were even stranger; one of the more famous doors required a certain wisp of smoke to open.

Thursday, December 29, 2016

100 Words a Day 983

“There it is,” Kovar pointed. “The Cathedral of the Red Sign.”

Everyone stopped and strained to see the crimson spires in the fading light.

“We must be careful now,” he said. “They will be watching the land with their magic.”

The party instinctively crouched down.


“We’ll camp here and wait for darkness; it will be hide us from their mundane defenses,” Kovar announced. Without waiting for a response, he pulled blanket out of his pack, wrapped himself in it, and pulled his cap down over his face. Moments later, he was snoring quietly, leaving it to others to stand guard.

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

100 Words a Day 982: Guest Post - Chris from Chiwrimo

Here's one from my friend Chris from Chriwrimo

The rain fell on bare branches and brown leaves without mercy. The traveler sought but found no relief on the muddy road. He pulled his woolen cape around his chin as the puddles soaked his leather boots. He felt the damp on his neck.

A branch broke just ahead of him and to the left. He stopped when he saw a sad brown face with golden eyes between a forked hazel tree. He watched as it came to face him, its cloven feet steady in the muddy roots. It hugged the trunk like a child and smiled.

The traveler ran.

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

100 Words a Day 981

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been trudging across the ocean floor, but the abyssal chill of the deep had penetrated the protective layers of his suit with its bitter tendrils and his oxygen was dangerously low. Something appeared suddenly in the cone of his flashlight. He stopped in his tracks, sure that the deleterious effects of the cold on his cognition were making him see things. It was a dome with a protrusion. It reminded him of being little, watching shows about people colonizing other planets. The thing in front of him looked exactly like the habitats on TV.

Monday, December 26, 2016

100 Words a Day 980

@Loodfech, you obviously have no understanding of the issues and are an idiot.

@Neofreak, go fuck yourself!!!!!!

@Loodfech, wow. I’m really scared.

@Neofreak, yuo should be. I’m going to beat your ass, cuck.

There is a typo in paragraph one.

@Loodfech, wow. I can’t even believe how stupid you are. Please go kill yourself so I don’t have to.

@Loodfech, @Neofreak, both of you make me want to choke on my own vomit you are so stupid I wish I was in the same place as you guys so I could shoot you.

eCourage on this thread is impressive!


^Lol.

Sunday, December 25, 2016

100 Words a Day 979: Guest Post - Jesse

Here's one from my friend Jesse

The Sword moved, and a man died. This did not concern the old wolf. The sword slid across armor and found purchase, the wearer grunted in pain and fell away. The old wolf stood his ground, grim warden of stained gates. The Outlanders would not negotiate. Surrender or be destroyed. The sword moved, a neck opened. The old wolf, member of the old order, held this tunnel. The sword moved, too slowly, and the old wolf fell. A wolf wins every fight but his last. The cord ties to him went tight, pulled a stone, the tunnel began to collapse.

Saturday, December 24, 2016

100 Words a Day 978

The men used crowbars to lift the lid of the sarcophagus, sending it crashing to the ground and smashing into three large chunks. Their leader cast his crowbar aside, sending clattering into a shadowy corner. He wore a grin of triumph as he leaned over the lip of the stone box. He saw the corpse within had its arms crossed and clasped a scepter in its skeletal hands. Despite the years and the darkness of the tomb, the metal wand gleamed as though freshly polished and in the sunlight. Reaching greedily, he seized the glittering rod and pulled it free.

Friday, December 23, 2016

100 Words a Day 977


The library was laden with the dust of centuries. In one corner sat an old man on a chair nearly bursting with stuffing. His frail hands held the yellowed parchment he was reading close to his failing eyes, as though he was reading by a single candle, rather than the candelabra on the table next to him. His skin was sallow where not covered by unsightly age spots and the top of his head was bare apart from a few greasy wisps of hair. The robes hanging off loosely his emaciated body were equally decrepit. They were faded and torn.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

100 Words a Day 976


The heavy rains had turned the barrow clearing marshy. This was the most dangerous time for the surrounding villages and they lit extra fires and posted extra men to the watch on these nights. If the mounds became too muddy, the ghoul occupants of the tombs could claw their way up through the soft earth. The men and women buried in the field were criminals guilty of diabolic transgressions. Animated by some sinister power, they were imbued with an unending desire for human flesh. Only the sacred dirt of the field could contain them, when not weakened by dark rains.

Wednesday, December 21, 2016

100 Words a Day 975 - Guest Post - Bonnie

Here's a little piece by my friend, Bonnie. Check out her website.

Jamie typed furiously. She wasn’t going to let Mark get away with embarrassing her in front of the whole class. They’d hated each other since the third grade when they met at recess, but she thought they’d come to a stalemate.
They sat on opposite sides of the room in middle school, and high school had been completely uneventful. But, apparently being in the same Economy 101 lecture was too much for Mark.
Asshole.

Jamie stopped typing and admired her work. It was perfect. She took a drink of soda and laughed. This would make up for the clown incident.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

100 Words a Day 974

The pain in his chest made him writhe. He shut his eyes against the thing making his fingers and toes spasm. Attempts at slow, even breathing failed. At best, they momentarily replaced the ache with a cauterizing chill. Then it was back to misery. He lay on his bed, able but unwilling to rise. Instead, he rubbed his head with his hands while his back curled and straightened.


Intermittently, the emotional pain and physical spasms gave way to periods of flaccidity where his body would lie as though dead. They never lasted. The stinging pangs in his heart always returned.