The bodies of dead soldiers are reanimated and used on the front line once more. Two soldiers have just handed over a fallen comrade to one of the few living people at an undead military unit. – Cavalry262
The doors of the conversion facility thundered shut behind them. Alex doubled over and vomited. Tyler patted his chest, praying that his breast pocket would contain a much-needed cigarette. His prayer was mercifully answered, and he lit it with shaking hands.
The two men stood outside the horrible building, trying to ignore the sound of the machinery inside and failing to imagine what was being done to the body of their friend.
The building’s official title was the ‘Conversion Center for Fallen Soldiers’. Everybody else just called it the Morgue. Sometimes, Tyler considered going turncoat, and delivering the coordinates of the horrible building to the enemy so that they could bomb it to the ground. He couldn’t think of any reason why he shouldn’t, but he could never build up the courage to go through with it.
Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #31: The Corpse Corps”
The Muppets rob a bank. – Manuel15456
Looking back on it, Kermit the Frog wasn’t surprised that the job had gone wrong. He was more impressed that it had taken that long to go wrong. Almost five minutes! That had to be some sort of record.
Planning the job had been the easiest part. Gonzo volunteered to drive the getaway car. Agreeing to that was Kermit’s first mistake, and it was very far from his last one. He didn’t have much choice; everybody was very sure what jobs they wanted to do, and it was as always a chore trying to wrangle them into anything resembling order. Fozzie (mistake two), and Miss Piggie (mistake three) were in charge of keeping the bank patrons in line while Beaker and Animal (mistake four) would crack the safe and collect the loot. Kermit, as the leader, had only one job: make sure things didn’t go wrong. It was mistake number five that he thought he was up to the task.
Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #30: The Muppets Rob A Bank”
Wizardry is as common and as professional as businessmen in today’s society. Write about everyday life. – Venerable
The wizened old man peered down his knobbly nose at the piece of paper set on the only clear area on his desk. “So, Madame Delacourte, I must admit, I am very impressed with your resume,” he said, fingers combing his long beard. He stopped as he discovered a small mouse that had become trapped in the long white hair at some point, and carefully untangled the small creature without looking away from the young woman sitting across from him.
“Thank you, sir,” said the stocky young woman. She wearing a dress suit that slowly shifted colors, with buttons that glowed like small stars.
“Tell me,” said the old man as he finally freed the mouse from his beard. “Why should Merlinex hire you? What sets you apart from other applicants?”
Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #29: A Totally Normal Interview For A Totally Normal Job”
You are a famous (and secretly fraudulent) psychic that has been kidnapped by the government to create and train a generation of psychic soldiers for the military. – Whitefolly
The soldiers stood in front of me, straight as ramrods. Every one of them bald as a spear, every one of them waiting for my instruction, and every one of them a font of untapped psychic power.
I’ve seen the dossiers. Every one of these men and women is a natural psychic, hand picked by the government to be used as special forces operatives. Telepathy, telekinesis, astral projection, divination, teleportation – every psychic power you can imagine from a comic book is not only possible, but a good number of the people in front of me are capable of them.
I adjust the tinfoil wrapped around my head. Thank Christ it works; if it didn’t, then the multiple telepathic cadets in front of me would instantly know the truth about me.
Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #28: Psychic Corps”
You, a mighty demon from the depths of Hell, have been summoned into the body of a small dog with no means of escape. – MrNerdykins
Once, I was known as Lerorurian, Duke of the Damned.
Now, the name on my collar reads ‘Alfred’.
Once, my horrid visage instilled fear in all who beheld me.
Now, the reaction I get is generally “Aw, wookit da widdwe puppy. You’re so cute, yes, yes you are.” Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #27: The Former Duke”
You’re an explorer in the Dark Ages and set out westwards to show that the earth is round. Except it isn’t and together with your crew you sail off the world’s edge. – Neite
“Stand fast!” the captain yelled as the edge of the world came closer. The wind was carrying them straight towards it, and the rushing water was dragging them along as well. This late, they couldn’t escape it any more than they could escape their fate.
And in an instant, there was nothing but empty air beneath the Gloria’s wooden hull.
The captain clutched the wheel as if it would still be useful. His crew, strong, brave men willing to brave the unknown, grabbed onto anything they could find. The Gloria began to fall, her prow aimed down into the empty blue sky that surrounded the waterfall at the edge of the world.
A few men lost their holds, and fell away from the ship into the endless aether, their screams streaking away towards silence. The captain held fast, the cross around his neck streaming behind him on its leather thong. He prayed for forgiveness for his folly, and for the salvation of his men, who had sworn to follow their captain to the ends of the earth. They had believed him when he stated, proud and drunk, that the world had no end, and now they were paying the price for his foolishness.
Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #26: Over The Edge”
Vampire saliva gives off an addicting drug inducing effect to the victim being bitten. – stoppppppppppppp
I scream as the stake plunges into my master’s heart, and I can almost feel the pain as if it was me lying, sleeping, in the coffin. “No!” I wail at the murderer, standing over the corpse of the man who gave my life purpose. “No, no, no, no!” I struggle against the murderer’s partner, who presses me to the ground. Master had fed upon me, his most loyal follower, just the night before, and I still felt the weakness, though the happy buzzing sensation caused by master’s bite was overwhelmed by the feelings of grief and rage.
“Bloodsucker’s dead,” says the murderer. He pulls a thick knife from his belt. “Just gonna make sure. This’ll only take a minute.” He is a hardened man, eyes dark, and he goes about his task in silence. I cannot see what he is doing to my master’s body, but I swear I can feel the cold steel in my throat. “Done,” the murderer says after a few minutes of sawing. He rises, holding my master’s head by the hair. “What should we do with the thrall?”
Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #25: The Addicting Bite”
You are a teenager living with your single parent, a mad scientist. It’s up to you to clean up after the many messes left behind. – Noy2222
“Sit,” Melinda said, firmly staring down the ‘dog’. “Sit. I said sit.”
The ‘dog’ snarled at her. It was the size of a draft horse, pitch black, with teeth like knives and eyes like a devil. Also: a pair of leathery wings, a barbed tail, and according to her father, the ability to breathe fire.
Melinda didn’t care. Compared to a lot of her dad’s monstrosities, this thing was a kitten. “Sit,” she repeated, holding the flank steak in front of her. Behind her back, she held her backup plan, in case things got too out of control.
Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #24: Playing Dog”
The year is 2024 and three children in a trench coat have taken office, but no one can tell that they are kids. –ThatFuzzySalmon
There’s something about this man, thought Secret Service Agent Jacob Miles, as he followed the newly-elected President of the United States through the halls of the White House. Something… different.
President Threkids was a tall man, with the boyish face of a twelve-year-old, with a thick handlebar mustache growing on his upper lip that had the strange tendency to slip to the side every so often. He walked with a strange gait, as if he had incredibly short legs. That might have explained why he always wore that trench coat: he was embarrassed about his strange deformity, and so he hid it from the world.
He had taken the country by storm, though nobody knew precisely where he had come from. His first public appearance was in a political debate between candidates for the office of the Mayor, which was hosted in a small movie theater because the usual venue was being fumigated. Threkids had walked into the theater, his confident waddle making it clear where he belonged, even if he looked a bit confused.
The man exuded charisma, and was talked into participating in the debate. Threkids was a humble man, repeatedly stating that he was only here to watch the reboot of “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”, and that he was most definitely an adult, yes.
Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #23: The Rise Of President Threkids”
All television static is a signal from a Lovecraftian horror whose message takes a very long time to discover. Somehow, its message is accidentally decoded while trying to figure out something else. –thedeliriousdonut
She had first seen the face in the static as a young girl, impatiently waiting for her father to adjust the antenna. It crackled on the screen like a black and white blizzard, and she liked to pretend she could see funny shapes in it. There was a bunny wearing a top hat. A bear on a unicycle. A face, pressed against the glass, staring at her. A flower.
If she had just blinked at the right moment, she would have missed it, and her life never would have turned out the way it did. But fate is cruel, and the face in the static stayed with her. She tried to tell her parents, but they believed it to be a sign of an active imagination. For her birthday that year, she got a set of watercolor paints. She quickly ran out of black, as she tried to recreate the static-y face on the white paper.
She could never get it right. Her memory of it kept changing, usually by the time she finished one picture, as if the face was slowly moving in her own mind. It shifted gradually over the span of months and years. Nobody else could see the face in her pictures, though to her it was plain as day. Her parents thought she was just going through an ‘impressionist’ phase.
Continue reading “Reddit Writing Prompt #22: The Face In The Static”