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[Dr.Nekoshu]

"Hear this, you may sit atop your throne, within your stone fortress, and believe yourself better than all... But you are not!"
​

"If I were to speak of your history, something which you have hidden, it would show you as someone defective!"
​

"Your history as a Warrior is marked by the mistakes you made, your imperfect-ness!"
​

"And I know you may look upon me, and my kin, those dearest to me, and call us defective and wrong. But we know that more than you!"
​

"All beings that reside in the light know that they are defective, but only when compared to He Who Creates! But when we look among ourselves to compare, we are merely different."
​

"The stones of your fortress crack, and are thus defective."
​

"The wood that makes your throne rots, and thus is defective!"
​

"And the only thing to believe they are perfect, are monsters. And thus..."
​

"YOU."
​

"ARE."
​

"DEFECTIVE."
​

 
​

--------------------------------------
​

I know it's not a lot of words... But hey! I just wanted to take a swing!
​

 

[ArtisticVicu]

“You doing ok?”





 





He looked up, startled by the young man standing before him. He offered a carefree smile, assuring, “Yeah, why?”





 





“You look sad.”





 





His smile faltered but he prayed the other didn’t notice. He forced it bigger. “Ah, just tired. I had a long day.”





 





The other before him took the bait and laughed. “Haven’t we all?”





 





The grin he had plastered on his face returned to the carefree smile, but he could feel how fake it was. A part of him desperately hoped the other couldn’t see the cracks in his mask. A much larger part was very certain the young man before him could not. “You doing anything after this?” he asked, changing topics.





 





The other lit up, happily launching into the plans for that evening. He listened attentively as he always did, conversing easily with this partial stranger before him. But the compression in his chest would not ease up.





 





“You gonna come?”





 





He chuckled. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”





 





Because nobody cares. People will be happy to see you but they won’t care if you stay.





 





He swallowed against the thoughts, his focus on the one before him faltering as the compression in his chest expanded to include his gut. He turned his forced smile into a grin. “I can’t wait till this evening.”





 





Someone called the other’s name and they dipped out. He remained sitting there, anxiety taking his appetite away. He looked down at his meal.





 





No point in going. You’re just a waste of space. No matter what they say, you’re not important. You have no right to be there.





 





He bit into the rest of his sandwich.





 





Really, you’re nothing more than a nuisance.





 





He swallowed thickly and shoved the last bite into his mouth, slipping off the low wall he had been sitting on.





 





You’re worthless.





 





He entered the common space and greeted those that greeted him. He felt like he was floundering. He didn’t know what to do.





 





You’re a burden.





 





He slipped out, trying desperately to not panic.





 





Who would want anything to do with you?





 





He gritted his teeth as he tried to regain his mask.





 





After all…





 





He closed his eyes, fighting to keep his breath normal.





 





You’re defective.





 





He forced his eyes opened, desperately shoving the thought away.





 





Broken.







Word Count: 385





 





Funny how a prompt can mirror personal experience.

 

[Gaycubed]

“ Liz. We are not defects.” Amy said looking up.


“ Everyone says we are.” Liz replied sadly looking at Amy. Amy sighed as she grabbed Liz’s hand gently.


“ Who are you going to believe? Me or them?” Amy asked looking at Liz who had gotten off the cot and walked to the open window.


“ What if we are defects? What if they are right?” Liz asked looking at her.


Amy uncoiled her legs from under her, standing up, and walking over to Liz. “ Well if they are right, then I don’t want to be. “ She said. Liz looked down at the floor. Amy could barely see her face under the moonlight. “ Liz. Look at me. You can’t tell me that everything that you have felt this year is fake. A lie. “ Amy said looking at Liz.


“ And you tell me it’s real?” Liz asked. “ How would we know it’s love? Neither of us have been in love before.” She said.


Amy looked at her. “ I know. And you do to. “ She said as she once again took Liz’s hands. “ And this is how i know. “ Amy said as she kissed the girl. It was a gentle kiss. After they broke apart Amy looked at Liz. “ That’s how I know. “


Below them they heard heavy footsteps. Liz looked at Amy. “ You have to go. “ she said. Amy nodded.


“ Promise you’ll think about. We could be free. We could prove we aren’t defects.” Amy said touching Liz’s shoulder.


Liz nodded. “ I promise I’ll think about it. “ She said as she motioned for Amy to get to the window. The footsteps were getting closer. Amy nodded as she started out the window. Right before she was about to go completely over Liz kissed her cheek. “ Promise you’ll be safe.” She said.


Amy smiled. “ I will. “ She said before she put her other foot over the ledge and dropped down to the ground below. Liz stood there for a moment watching her disappear into the darkness. Then she dashed back to the cot and laid down as her door opened. We are not defects...Liz thought as her door opened and her father looked around. After a minute it closed again with a loud squeak. We are not defects…. She thought over and over again.


We are not defects….

 

[eunoia]

Aurora looked down at the busy street far beneath her feet as the voices swirled round and around in her head. 
Silent tears fell from her eyes as she saw family after family reject her after they learnt what was wrong with her. As she saw her friends discreetly back away from her as they realised what a monster she was. As she saw the look of pity her doctor gave her when he saw how broken she was. 
She leant into the gentle breeze, her hair flowing behind her as she teetered on the ledge, standing on the edge of life and death.  
No one would miss her, she thought bitterly. She was just a broken toy, a defect. As soon as she was gone she would be replaced with a newer, better version.


It was cold up here and Rori's small frame shivered violently in the night air. She wondered how differently things would've been if she was normal. 
If her brain was wired differently. She let a small smile creep onto her face as she thought of all the could've-beens.
If only she hadn't been a mistake, an accident, a problem that should've never seen the light of day. But that would never be her. The doctor's told her that she had a disease, but she knew better. She knew that she was the disease, and she managed to cripple and infect everyone around her.


(kinda suckish ik, but it was fun to write  )

 

[Hercynia]

So, you know those robots you always see in sci-fi horror games? Well, this prompt got me thinking about those. (I'm rather short on time, so please excuse the only 146 word long piece of writing).


The pickaxe struck the rock with a harsh crack, splitting it in two. A gleam of blue shone, and the scratched photoreceptors set into the cranial housing lit up. The worn pickaxe folded inwards into the arm, replaced with delicate laser apparatus that span, warmed up, and engaged, carving the pristine gem free from its stony prison. Another system warmed up, a small boom arm picking up the gem carefully and depositing it in the storage cell inside its torso. Systems whirred, and the laser drill folded back, to be replaced by the pickaxe again. The robot moved again, searching for the next viable patch of rock, the lenses behind its mechanical skull whirling to adapt to the new environment it found itself in, leaving behind another scarred, burned, twisted body, and searching, in a state of blissful ignorance to its actions, for its next victim.

 

[MoltenLightning]

Alright, time's up! 


Thank you all so much for participating, you all did fantastically!


It was really hard to decide a winner.


But, after some careful consideration and struggling, I managed to narrow it down to the winner:


@Little!


The way that you left just enough out to make me wish I could know more really hooked me. And, it had that sense of, 'Something isn't right here...' But you couldn't really point it out until the end.


Congratz! 

 

[Little]

Oh my gosh, I am absolutely thrilled you thought my piece worthy enough to deem it winner above everyone else's! Thank you thank you! I thought everyone else did an astounding job and was completely shocked when I saw you picked me of all people, haha! Thank you again. 


Now, for the prompt!


PROMPT:

Limit:


Maximum of 620 words.


Time:


48 hours from this post.


Best of luck to all of you!! I can't wait to see what you all come up with! Also, it would be a huge favor to me if you all tagged me in your entries, seeing as sometimes my notifications fail. Thank you! 

 

[jinkx]

^^^ Looked a little closer and realised those are British shops 0:


Finally, I have an excuse to write something set in England. 

 

[ArtisticVicu]

Her whole body bobbed with the music blaring from the headphones hanging around her neck as she reloaded. She traded it to the young man beside her for the gun he was already using. He was bobbing right along with her.


 


“Reload!” came the call from an older young man several windows away on the same wall. She caught the gun tossed at her and she grabbed up an equivalent already loaded and tossed it in return. She grinned as his shots went off in time with the music. She shoved another magazine into place into three more weapons before picking up a rocket launcher, leaning backwards through the window, aiming, and letting it fly.


 


The stream of exhaust curled about before coming down and she grinned at the explosion that threw up bodies. She slid back into the building and reloaded.


 


Without saying a word, she passed off a new gun to the one beside her, falling into routine as the song repeated.


 


“Nothing new?” the one beside her teased, taking four out without trying.


 


She gave a bark of a laugh. “Aw, come on! It fits the mood!”


 


“In Britain?” the one farther down challenged, though it was clear he was not complaining.


 


She shrugged, kicking over another weapon to him. He grabbed it without looking, pocketing it. “You have to admit, it’s got the best beat.”


 


He chuckled. “Just change it over when they come in.”


 


She gave a vicious grin as she flicked the safety off, turned, and aimed. “Absolutely.”


 


She took out seven in rapid succession.


 


The minutes passed and the waves lulled between being very heavy and lax. There was clamor from above and they were joined by four more people, all of who came through the glassless windows.


 


“They’re on their way,” the only woman of the four stated, her voice hard, her gaze even harder. She glared at the headphones. “Turn that bullshit off.”


 


She couldn’t help the grin she gave the leader, pulling out the music player tucked into a pocket. “Sorry, Boss, but ain’t happening.”


 


She flicked through music and changed songs as the two young men were replaced and they came to her, gathering the weapons. They clipped her in as she hauled gathered weapons onto her back, and she tested the rope and then her harness before slipping out the window. Allowing the rope and harness to take her weight, she took out four more targets as the young men joined her on the outside, both just as laden down with weapons as she was. The one that had been at the far window smirked. “Much better music choice.”


 


She beamed at him as the ropes jerked them skywards.


 


She passed the roofline first, flying up past the roof as the pull mechanism lost contact with her rope. She rolled in the air, the rope flying around, before she landed heavily on the roof.  She shrugged off the weapons as the young men landed on either side of her. She unclipped herself as the woman operating the winch hurried over, shoving at her glasses. “Are you alright? The speed on the winch got stuck.”


 


She grinned at her. “Of course.” She walked towards her male companions. “You’d best get to safety.”


 


The woman shoved at her glasses again and nodded.


 


She watched as the nerdy woman hurried off, cocking the gun in her hand before joining the two young men at the roof’s edge. She grinned at them both. “Ready boys?”


 


The one that had been farthest from her shrugged but the one that had been beside her gave her a grin. A siren went off and their gazes went towards the horizon. Here came the airborne hoard.



Word count: 620


Songs:


First one  Second one


@Little

 

[Little]

So, I completely spaced out when making the deadline. I won't be here tomorrow at all, so it would be lovely if someone took my place as judge? I figured @Flip could take over, or choose someone they trust to take over, seeing as I'm not entirely sure who to pass the torch to haha. 

 

[Flip]

So, I completely spaced out when making the deadline. I won't be here tomorrow at all, so it would be lovely if someone took my place as judge? I figured @Flip could take over, or choose someone they trust to take over, seeing as I'm not entirely sure who to pass the torch to haha. 

Sure I can do it  haven't played in a while as I've been really busy but I can take a few minutes to judge. I miss this game.

 

[boo.]

The man remembered when he had had the flu. He had been only a small lad then, but the memory was being refreshed in his mind. He had been uncomfortable, completely incapacitated, and often had undergone periods of serious sickness. But he had survived, obviously, and had nothing to show for it. He hadn't been changed by it, and his mindset had remained the same.


Overall, it had been nothing.


The man shouldered his pack, taking a deep breath in the stuffy air of the trailer. The air conditioning had stopped working long ago, when one of the newer recruits had slammed into it by accident. They had all laughed about it then, but now they were ruing that day. The temperature outside was hot. Too hot, in fact, and they all knew it. That was the cause of all of this, in the end. This climate change meant a faster spread of bacteria, which was bad news for anyone in populated areas. But that was why he was here: exterminate the sickness.


News came from the front that they were approaching the target, so the men in the truck pulled on their masks. The man flipped on his own with the press of a button, and immediately fresh oxygen filled his lungs. It was clean and free of bacteria, which was all they could breathe. After all, everyone knew what would happen if they didn't wear them. There was no need for things to turn ugly.


The man absentmindedly thought of his family back home at the base. His wife, his child, his dog… they were all safe there. He smiled as he thought of his young boy, who was still just a toddler. He would reach out his small, soft hands, and ever so slightly brush the cheeks of his father, cooing meaningless words that meant everything to him. In fact, his birthday was just in a few weeks. If he cut corners and hurried, he might be able to make it. That would be just perfect.


The truck came to a sudden screech, which meant that it was time. The men all pulled their rifles from their backs, prepping and cocking them with unmatched skill. This was their job, after all. The man thought of his son one last time before the doors swung open and they all jumped out. While they were all safe behind their masks, they could all practically taste the sickness hanging in the air.


This city was filled with people, who were hunched over in pain and crying out to the evening sky. Yes, they were carriers of the sickness. The man held his gun to his shoulder, pointing with expert aim towards the nearest person. It was a young woman, her face torn in pain and suffering. She fell to her knees as she saw the man, and tears ran from her eyes. But she said not a word as the man pulled the trigger.


It was his job, after all.


Exterminate the sickness.


Word count: 503


@Little @Flip

 

[Flip]

@Handabooo congrats, you're the winner! It was creepy and really sad. Great emotion writing.


Both the entries were awesome, great action and writing. 

 

[Physiicz]

Jack covered his tiny ears with his tiny hands.


He could hear the scary men outside firing their guns. Jack felt sorry for all those people getting shot, it wasn’t their fault right? It wasn’t their fault they wanted to eat others.


Jack’s tiny heart went faster and faster with each bang.


He curled his tiny body into a tiny ball inside the tiny shop.


Everything about Jack was tiny expect for one thing: His craving for brains.


Word count: 78


@Little @Flip

 

[boo.]

Woohoo! Thanks a bunch.


Hm... Here's something for ya'll.

Prompt:
​

An Aubade 
​

(A poem about two lovers separating at dawn. Does not have to rhyme.)
​

 
​

Max word count: 200
​

 
​

Limit:
​

48 hours from now
​

 

[Dusky]

The night was for us,


a soft, dark whisper on our skin,


a blindfold of nature’s own design.


I thought we had duality, that warmth


would lodge behind our ribs at daybreak,


but as I kiss you cold goodbye


for the last time,


the sun in its circle kisses you to warmth.


Does goodbye chase Solaris in his orbit


or does it usher in the light?


I cannot answer; I only know


Solaris shines for you, and I am happy. My sky


is black, and everywhere I feel


your absence.


Word count: 90

 

[jinkx]

she's standing on the balcony


smoking a cigarette


feelings and emotions vanished


no hint of regret. 


she doesn't even remember who


crashed on her floor


last night when the party ended


you peer through the glass door.


she's standing on the balcony


and she's forgotten you


she doesn't remember you're here


you know what you have to do. 


she won't even remember who


left without a note


the person who kissed her on the lips


and left behind only a coat. 


she's standing on the balcony


and you're on the sidewalk outside


remembering how she'd talked


and wishing she was at your side. 


she won't even remember you


not days or weeks from now


you'll forget her face


and still move on somehow.

 

[ArtisticVicu]

Forever


We had                      Promised


Parted                        at the break of day


knowing                    We’d never see each other again


                                   Ignorant                                                        of the fate awaiting us


                                   Watching the sun rise                                    beyond the cell bars


                                   Metal gleaming                                             sharp


                                                                                                        Swift


                                                                                                        A silence heavy


                                                                                                        Weight of shattered hearts


                                                                                                        Echoes of yesterday


                                   There was no one                                         crying


                                   Nothing                                                        beyond our shadows


                                   As the crowd gathered                                  Outside


Yesterday                    there was hope


There was                   Love


But                              now there was only



Death


Word count: 72


 


We'll see how the formatting holds.

 

[boo.]

Oh, it was so hard to choose! But I will have to go with @Anomaly. It was fantastic! Good job.

 

[Dusky]

Thank you so much! Hm, let's hope I get this right....

Prompt: Can't breathe.
​

 
​

Time Limit: 48 hours.
​

That's all! Go wild!

 

[Elephantom]

The water was cold. Too cold.

 
​

It felt like a thousand needle pressing wildly against his skin, attempting to get into the parts uncovered; Almost quite succeeding in doin so. It brushed past his skin as he tumbled down into his unfortunate fate at the bottom of the abyss; his blood fluidly mixing with the ever-so consuming water — adamant in its tightening grasp. Reluctant of letting go of what it already received.


His lungs tightened, his torso stiffened; his heartbeat steadily decreased. He knew it. He knew what was going to happen. He instinctively closed his mouth; his subconscious side refusing to let either his mouth, or his windpipe open. His mind was filled with dread; so deep, so subtle. Alarms, whistles, bells silently blared in his head; imploring him to believe its warnings, to back away from his inevitable, obvious death.


It was, of course, inevitable. Refusing the water's abysmal yet alluring grasp was a needless waste of energy. 


The environment — all so blue, so elusive, so vivid, hiding its danger with a brutal efficiency — started to darken, signifying his demise even more alarmingly. He started to struggle; oh, how much he did try to struggle. Tugging about his arms, trying to reach for the surface with his wasted, weakened body. All useless, all fruitless.


Soon enough, he too, realized his near demise. It was, of course, inevitable. Anyway, was life even worth living? If he was to ever get a second chance, what would be the guarantee that he wouldn't be thrown into the water to sleep with the fishes again? What would it be, if anything?


Just the same thing all over again.


It was useless. It was fruitless.


Why try again? What's to achieve in that


horrid, horrid world?


Why?


It felt as if the ocean was talking with him; communicating with him. Asking him questions he would never find the answer to. His mind, his vision started to all blur. Thinking was useless. Seeing was fruitless. 


Efforts to breathe were gone to waste. Questions started to flood into his mind. Distinctions began to blur. His life started to flash before his eyes, which were so very


useless.


Can't breathe? Why can't I breathe?


Why?


Why?


Why, why, why. Always why. Never what. Never when. Just why. Why did I do this? Why did I do that? Always the same. 


He let go. Finally he did. He really did. The water rushed into him through his nose, through his mouth, forcing itself down into his windpipe. He closed his eyes. Resistance was useless. It was fruitless. Everything was just an illusion. Death was the final ultimatum. Nothing else mattered.


It was calming now. The water. Death's embrace. Painful, only for a short moment, but peaceful.


Tranquil.


Serene.


Only water. Nothing else.

 

[Verdana]

Can't breathe. There's just blackness.


Do you know how it feels to suffocate?


First, it feels like your air is drying out. Then every time you try and inhale, your neck feels like it's compressing. You feel a rush of adrenaline. The lack of oxygen causes you to get weaker and weaker... soon you fall on the floor, desperately trying to breathe, but to no avail.


Your vision starts to blacken. Your life flashes before your eyes. Your body systems start to fail. Then nothing.


Can't breathe. There's just blackness.

Wow, I suck at these.

 

[jinkx]

[SIZE= 10px]You know that scene in Star Wars, when the walls in the trash compactor starts to move in on them and they know they don't have long to escape? And everybody in the audience starts to panic because they aren't sure how their heroes are going to make it out of this one. It doesn't matter how many times you watch that movie, you can still taste panic in your mouth every time you watch that scene. And that's exactly how you feel right now, as your eyes glaze over and you can't seem to focus on anything. The room in front of you begins to blur as the walls slowly move closer and closer and everybody's voices become a buzz in your ears. Soon, it's all you can hear; the distant buzzing of everybody in the room talking much too loud and much too fast. Their words don't make any sense to you, it's like they're speaking in an entirely different language. You know in comics when the people swear and they replace the words with a series of symbols like they mashed the keyboard frantically? That's how words translate to you right now. You press your hands down over your ears in the hopes that you can block out the sound but it only makes it louder. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 10px]The only thing you can taste is the fleshy back of your throat each time you try to swallow and you swear you can feel puke bubbling up in the back of your throat. Your mouth tastes slightly sharp but slightly dull at the same time, like you're tasting a double sided blade and you feel like you're being choked. You need to wash out your mouth as soon as possible- you need to escape this room as soon as possible- so you push yourself up onto shaking legs and run as fast as you can in the direction of the bathroom. You can't imagine how crazy you must look to everybody else as you throw the bathroom door open and rush to the sink, frantically rinsing your mouth. You cup your hands together to scoop up water and try to empty it into your mouth, only succeeding in splashing most of it all over you. Your hair and shirt are soaked now and you still can't get that taste out of your mouth. The walls still seem to be moving towards you and the sound of a door being swung open in the bathroom terrifies you because it might be one of your friends and you still don't know how to explain how you feel to them. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 10px]The words sound easy, should be easy, and you've replayed them a thousand times. I have General Anxiety Disorder and Panic Disorder. You've told yourself over and over again in the mirror but you've never been able to tell your friends. You don't want them to think that you're a freak, you don't want them to think that you're not normal enough to hang out with them anymore. You don't want them to find it funny. Laugh, laugh, laugh. You don't want any of them to follow you in here and see you in this state, so you turn the tap off and dive into the closest bathroom stall. You slam it shut behind you, ramming the lock across so hard that you're surprised it doesn't break, and you lean against the door. Breathing shallowly as you can manage, trying to use the techniques you've practised in your bathroom at home, you slide down against the door and sit on the floor. Your knees press into your chest and you rest your head on top of them. There's the sound of footsteps on the other side of the stall door and a woman calls out: "Hello, anybody in here?"[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 10px]You're forced to clear your throat and reply with a fake cheery voice: "Yes, hold on just a moment."[/SIZE]


[SIZE= 10px]There's a shuffling sound of the cleaning woman leaving the restroom and you close your eyes tightly, resting your head against the stall door. You hope that the woman isn't going to come back in here because you've returned to hyperventilating- or maybe you were doing that the whole time and just didn't notice- and probably look like a crazy person. Maybe you are a crazy person. But the thought of that being true terrifies you, as visions of cold institutes and crazy doctors spring to mind. You can feel yourself getting sucked down into the depths of your anxiety now, spiralling out of control  like you always do, and try to put things back into perspective. You manage your breathing, slowly in and out, and try to claw your way back to the surface of reason. You've always explained your panic attacks to your therapist as being a lot like drowning; the less of a fight you put up, the quicker current sucks deeper and deeper under water. Your air escapes like bubbles from your mouth and you struggle to suck any air into your lungs, choking on your own fear. Only when you've kicked you way to the surface and remember how to breathe steadily again can you begin to calm yourself down and reason away the things that scare you so much. You bring yourself back to reality. [/SIZE]


[SIZE= 10px]You know that scene in Titanic, after the boat sinks and the lifeboats have sailed away? All the people left in the freezing water have nothing to do but cling to the pieces of floating debris in hopes of keeping themselves afloat and keep themselves alive for just a few more moments. Because in those few more moments, they might be saved. That self-preservation instinct is something you have to use to keep yourself anchored to reality after a panic attack. Picking yourself up off the bathroom floor, trying to wash the sweat from the face in front of the bathroom mirror, getting your breathing to slow down to a regular pace. Straightening out your hair, coming up with a casual joke about how the facet had broken and you managed to splash yourself with water like an idiot. Laugh, laugh, laugh. Because pretending nothing happened is going to keep your heart pace steady and help you breathe; it's going to keep you alive a few more minutes. And the longer you stay alive, the more time you have to save yourself. [/SIZE]

 

[Axiom Days]

     It was cold. And all that could be seen was encroaching darkness, surrounding, engulfing.


I washed it out of my mind, keeping my focus on the darkness behind my eyelids.


     I sat in a Lotus Position, casually awaiting the unavoidable.


     And, without fail, it appeared. Like a drop of rain, it fell from nothing, through nothing, and onto nothing.


It was the personification of inevitability. My merely sensing its presence sent shivers down my spine. But the next thing that happened was truly terrifying.


     It spoke.


    It didn't speak words. Not tangible anyway. Nothing it said sounded corporeal. 


"It isn't often when one such as you is capable of bracing the void and summoning me."


    The most I could get was a screech, but somehow I knew exactly what it was saying. I replied, knowing that I couldn't show any sort of weakness.


    "I'm special" I began, with a bluffing chuckle "And you are now mine, agreed?"


It paused, as if trying to comprehend what I had just said. "You realise who you speak with, boy?"


    It sounded honest. It was obvious my tactic was working. "Of course, Agramon."


   "Then you must be more stupid than I thought." It had began circling him. Seemingly inspecting him.


It continued "Do you truly think you're strong enough to contain me."


    The last words came as a deathly wind engulfing him in turbulence.


     "Yes." I simply reply, attempting to keep a straight face against the buffeting winds.


"Then gaze upon my being" It said. 


     This was it.


    I open my eyes upon it's instruction.


And scream in horror as my eyeballs ignite from their sockets.


   There I was, sprawled in void itself. Shrieking in incredible pain. 


   My panic set the void into disorder. It's almost tangible darkness transforming into tendrils of shadow.


The flew through my body, like a million spears of tenebrosity.


   It didn't feel like an impalation. It felt almost subtle. Like they were anchoring me to this existence.


    "Retribution..." It spoke, a voice that surrounded him, and rung like thunder


He felt a weight on him. Liquid and absorbing. It seeped through his skin.


    Through his eyes, his mouth stuck in a perpetual scream.


    It was unbearable, death seeped through his body, his cells, his very being. He tried to inhale, to take his last breathe before his body crushed under the pressure. He only felt his throat tighten under the force. He couldn't even mutter his last words. It was tightening, encroaching, surrounding, engulfing. His last thoughts were tainted in regret and horror.


  "Ave atque vale."


(This took me stupidly long to finish and it barely even matches the prompt. fml.)

 

[ArtisticVicu]

She couldn’t breathe.





 





The smile that split her face, though, belayed the sensation of her stomach joining her heart in her throat as the rollercoaster pulled out of the dive. She let out a whoop, leaning with the rollercoaster as it banked this way and that, rolling completely over and going through loops. By the time the rollercoaster came to a jerking stop, adrenaline and thrill were pulsing through her.





 





“Bloody hell,” came the curse from beside her and she leaned forward against the harness, looking to her riding partner. He had a bewildered look on his face but there was the same thrill in his eyes as she was still experiencing. She grinned at him.





 





“Again?”





 





“No!” came a cry from behind them. They both laughed, though her partner’s laugh was more out of his bewilderment then true amusement at the cry. She leaned back, settling once more in her seat as she called back, “Didn’t care too much for that?”





 





“Don’t get me wrong, I love flying,” came the snappy reply. “But this was just brutal.”





 





She laughed again as another voice piped in behind her. “I thought is was bloody wicked!”





 





She grinned, though the other couldn’t see her. “Figured you would, Harry.”





 





The rollercoaster slid forward on the track, entering the terminal for unloading. The restraint raised itself as she released the buckle and hopped off, glancing first at her riding partner then moving to the two young men sitting behind her. The one that was directly behind her was fighting with his harness restraint. She walked over and promptly pushed down before pulling up, freeing the blonde from his trap. He pushed passed her, clearly eager to get off. The other boy, Harry, smiled at her but lagged, looking towards the back of the ride.





 





Four men were heading their way, conversing easily even after so many years of bitterness between two of them. It was clear that two of the four – and not the two that had so many years of bitterness between them – hadn’t really enjoyed the rollercoaster ride. She quickly cornered both men.





 





“Not your thing?” she questioned, already knowing the answer.





 





The blonde, clearly related to the young man she had freed, shook his head. “I will have to try it from the front, as you had suggested initially, and not listen to Severus when he says that the back is the best.”





 





He stepped passed her after the blonde boy. She looked to the remaining man, his scars unusually stark on his pale face. He gave her a weak smile and placed a hand on her head. “Sorry, Rachel. Just not my cup of tea.”





 





She covered his hand with hers, beaming regardless. “I’m glad you at least gave it a go.”





 





“Heck yeah we gave it a go!” One of the two remaining men wrapped an arm around the scarred man’s shoulders and, while the action looked as if it was rough, the scarred man wasn’t even phased and the concern on the other man’s face spoke that it hadn’t meant to be rough. “Do we need to get you anything or…”





 





She caught sight of Harry frowning in concern as she did the same thing. The remaining man – looking similar to the man currently touching the scarred man but with a hooked nose and a narrower face – stepped over to her riding partner, though his obsidian gaze was on the scarred man. “Nausea Remus, or something else entirely?”





 





Though spoken with a slight snide undertone, the words were of genuine concern and the scarred man – now named Remus – merely smiled gently. “I’ll be fine, Severus. Rollercoasters have never really been my thing.”





 





Rachel looked to her guardian, asking, “Should we start heading out?”





 





“Oh, no, I’ll be ok!” Remus assured as they all meandered to the exit. “You brought them along to show them the rides. Go have fun. I don’t mind sitting out.”





 





The man that still had his arm around Remus’s shoulder gave the other a small frown. “You sure, Remus?”





 





Remus nodded, giving the man a fond look. “I’m sure, Sirius. Go have fun. I’m sure Lucius and I can pass the time quite easily while you and the others ride more rides.”





 





“If you’re sure…”





 





Rachel bounded ahead as she came out of the exit path at last, grinning at the pair of blondes with equal sneers on their faces. She bound right up to them and clasped her hands behind her back. “Next one?” she asked happily.





 





The blonde young man narrowed his eyes at her. “Which one?”





 





She pointed at the building not far from where the duo was standing. “It’s like an arcade game. You shoot things with a laser gun and accumulate points. It’s great.”





 





“Sounds like something I would be ok on,” came a call from behind her.





 





She turned, beaming. “I hoped it would. It goes pretty slow, in comparison. Everyone should be fine on it.”





 





The remaining unnamed man nodded in approval. “Lead the way,” he urged, and Rachel grabbed a hand of both young men and dragged them away, the adults following at a more sedated pace.