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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Aug, 2022
Submitted to Contest #324
Author's Note: This contains descriptions that readers might find disturbing. It wasn't called "Lake Eerie" because it sounded creative. Yes, Lake Erie was a beautiful place, but it held its own secrets, from the legends of cryptids near its shores to the horror stories that many convey or covet involving ghosts and urban legends. Amongst them was a story that wasn't well known, even dismissed as impossible and unfounded. In my case, I really wished it was. The story revolves around the time when Vikings came to the shores of America. One pa...
Submitted to Contest #321
George, the nine-year-old product of two alcoholics that met the inevitable end via semi-truck six years ago, met with Kevin and Doug, these two once having parents involved in gang wars yet only seeing the end of such from within pine boxes. Though the children would be allowed to go into the town, it was by escort for obvious safety concerns. Kevin and Doug, however, didn't subscribe to such a caution. "Three people's a crowd, but we look out for each other like brothers. You're a brother, right, George?" He knew what they meant, and he no...
Submitted to Contest #319
These sentient creatures are a curious bunch. They gather together and yet feel alone. They develop technology yet still walk with sticks. They move upon vehicles than no longer require horses, yet they still walk. They could record with these things called "cameras", but they report more with their testimonies. I was one of those testimonies. I made my home in this nation that was building over the scars of a recent world war with great buildings that towered over streets and bridges that spanned the width of even the largest rivers. Within...
Submitted to Contest #311
His wife, Lily, had gone upstairs. His son, Rilestone, was asleep in his crib. He, Harris, was rereading Psalms while keeping an ear to the baby monitor. Such old things, he thought, but one of the more useful tools especially after the Third World War. Now that he was away from the Navy, away from the SEALs, he looked to quieter days. Well, as quiet as a family with a child could get. On the other end, he could hear the silent breathing of Rilestone. Having been born months ago, he was still getting used to his crib and his room, being alon...
Submitted to Contest #307
The flash of white hair flit between the trees as a pair of sneakers fitting for a ten-year-old boy pounded upon the dirt. Eyes of light-blue scanned the left and right directions before focusing ahead, trying to look around the many ground foliage protruding from below, either guarding potential falls or hiding places. He couldn't stop, not yet. Somewhere, out in these woods, someone was out to get him. The sound of a little girl's scream erupted unexpectedly, barely half a mile to his right. "Hanna", he whispered, and then he placed a h...
Submitted to Contest #261
The world of Nuoath is no stranger to the conquerors upon its surface, from the current great three of Arkos, Dhaast, and Lady Parine to the previous legends of Benrun the Brutal, the Mad Queen Sadaar, and Gianla of Goch. Amongst the most notorious of these names, the bloodthirsty and seemingly untouchable Ulynder Vadastim is one that will never be forgotten. With each conqueror, though, is their second-in-command that barely receives the same notoriety. Midaul Kannad was such a person, yet his notoriety was nowhere near the infamy of his ki...
Submitted to Contest #260
Miracle. Noun. An event regarded as impossible, attributed to luck or an act of God. A wonder.I was never a gambler. If anything, I was full of doubt, which had led me to miss out on many an opportunity. The women I had a crush upon ended up in the arms of men I considered better than me, the prizes I coveted ended up on the shelves of those I considered smarter than me. I even passed up a few jobs that could have opened doors to higher positions of higher pay, all because I never saw myself as ready to take on such responsibilities.There we...
Author's Note: this is another excerpt from my book series, "Resolution". Here is a legend told by the Kin-Martoln. This legend gives us two lessons, honorable reader. Jask Tobbins, Red Company Commander of the Hard Corps, had been assigned with Rila Estenall, Green Company Lieutenant of the Stampeders, to investigate the reported movement of two forces believed to belong to Bestials and the forces under Supreme Sultan Dahst. While incursions happened between the two powers, neither came near Martoln-home for decades. Sus...
Submitted to Contest #243
This is an excerpt taken from my story-in-development, "Resolution".Upon the world of Nuoath, in the year of the King of the All and Ever Six-Thousand-Thirty-Four, the tense strings between the Bestials and the Children of War were all except broken, but the Bestials of the forests of Anthrine were determined to take the militant country of Martoln even by tooth and claw. Though many a fort had been set between the two, one became pivotal and poignant.Tesdannon, the Crimson Base. An ironic name of potential infamy.The Children of War were re...
Submitted to Contest #232
Author's note: Yes, this is inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's "Nevermore"; it is an homage to the author. There's no crow, though.Here is a Man, no longer struttin',The woods await, the silence cuttin',A tree takes light, a sign of glutton,But he starves for a different sight.Solstice arrived, his children screamin'Against a sun that once was beamin'As both arose from an ocean streamin'Oblivious to mortal human might.A Kin to Sun, Man keeps here shinin'While facing Solstice daughter's whinin'.She cuts forth like axes meant for minin'Yet Man stan...
Author's Note: This is another excerpt from the Rilestone stories, one that is a "Part 2" of the "Rilestone: Fullfillment" short story. It has been over a week since the vision came unto Rilestone, one that raised more questions than answers even from those that were older and wiser than him. His parents could not answer for this alleged prophecy, nor his uncles or aunts, nor his cousins or friends. Even the people working at S.U.I.T (Super Uniform Individual Tactician) could only speculate; his friend, Jist, had an idea that it had to...
Submitted to Contest #230
Author's Note: This is more an excerpt from the Rilestone Series in the works. "Thousands shall march, from near and far, Fast held the rumors of war sewn; Kin born from Four, they stay where they are, Graves paved to those they own By the blood of the Morning Star." Rilestone stood up, having kneeled in deep prayer after his training was done. It was his voice, but it had sounded distant. He felt no malevolence, no presence of any sort from an ill being. He quickly smelled the air; no, no brimstone, so no Hellhounds nearby. What about...
Submitted to Contest #228
Author's note: This isn't the most accurate depiction of Arabic mythological lore, it is a liberally creative take."Have you gone to that new garden market downtown?" inquired Lizzy Lonnico."A new garden market? I didn't even visit the old one", Jerry Spinton answered. "It's rather spendy, especially before the winter season.""Oh, no!" Lizzy proclaimed. "Not this one. It's run by a rich family straight from Iran. All the natural fruits and vegetables, no GMOs, no additional sugars or salts, and cleaned to eat. Oh, and the best part, Jerry, i...
Submitted to Contest #225
Chelsea Bonifade was a dirty-blonde, hazel-eyed, nervous wreck. There was no Shakespearian way to put it; a sneeze had the girl run for cover like a live grenade was tossed in her direction. She found solace in books, and yet she would see a library as too crowded for her comfort. If being an introvert could be mathematically cubed in real life, it would be her. A hall of mirrors stood before her, each one illuminated by a light inserted into the ceiling. At the behest of her date, promising that this would help with her anxiety and ne...
Submitted to Contest #224
Lieutenant Stark Denmark opened his eyes from his dreamless slumber and noted the time of day: five hundred hours. First light was barely breaking over the horizon, and he knew he had another hour to present himself before the court. It was his trial, after all. It could very well be his last.The uniform was cleaned, pressed, and awaiting his return. The black shoes were already shined and waxed, smelling like they had not been worn before. He grimaced; those bastards did it again! Menial tasks like keeping his clothes cleaned and polishing ...
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