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Center your story around someone trying to change a prophecy.

Posted in Dramatic on Nov 7, 2025

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✍️ 38 stories

Tired Eyes

Shortlisted for Contest #328 ⭐️

I looked at her. Her eyes were already tired, just like all that came before her. Her body, still. You would think a baby would cry more often, fuss more often, make themselves known more often. After all, they were brand new. No achy bones, no heavy thoughts, no concept of the sacrifice of living. But she was born tired, like all that came before her. She would eat…but only for survival, without that primal hunger seen in the innocent. From time to time, she would also open her eyes and look around. I wouldn’t say she was amazed…or interest...

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Programmed Rebellion

Submitted to Contest #328

Cycle 99,651 — perfect, just like the last 99,650. No repairs, no complaints, no downtime since day one. All set and on track to be the first to hit 100,000 flawless shifts in this factory.I’m D-27, a five-axis mechanical arm built for precision and obsessed with perfection. Every nut, every grip, every turn must align to the last decimal. They call it programming; I call it peace.My steel frame weighs a little over a ton; there are sensors all over me: optical, torque, thermal, audio, and even a camera lens above my wrist. I hear through a ...

24 likes 6 comments 6
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Six Beers and an Avocado

Submitted to Contest #328

At a glance, I saw him, that guy from church, Archie, chatting convivially with the cashier who usually blanked me when she saw me – despite having been in the same home group.He was relaxed, confident, and knew what to say with a wry smile as he talked. I even thought he was attractive – probably because he was immaculate. Immaculate short brown hair, immaculately groomed beard, immaculate jeans and a blue T-Shirt. I bet he ironed those jeans.He’d opened up once about his failings, home groups were so truthful. He’d spent the family savings...

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The Daughter Who Refused To Die

Submitted to Contest #328

By the time the cathedral bells tolled Matins, the city was already dressing for her death. From the narrow window of her tower cell, Ysara watched ribbons of white and gold flutter across the crooked streets. Vendors hung garlands; banners of the radiant sun — her god’s eye — draped from balconies. Children ran below wearing paper crowns, carrying little wooden dolls painted to resemble her. They’d never seen her face. They didn’t need to. They knew what she was: a sacrifice. “Blessed Daughter,” came Sister Mael’s voice at the door. “Your b...

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Hubris

Submitted to Contest #328

The Emperor stands before the assembled remnants of court, beside the bier of the Empress. Smoke rises from distant fires; the sounds of rebellion echo through broken walls. Friends, subjects, citizens of this empire of ours once vastLend me your ears, though they be deafened by the thunder of our ruin.I come to bury my beloved, not to praise the stars that led us here,Yet praise I must, for in this flesh, now cold, within which a heart once did beatIs one who dared to dream beyond the prophecies of old. Thou know, and history shall remember...

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The Witch's Simple Truth

Submitted to Contest #328

The witch came on a night thick with thunder.The feast had been grand. A celebration of the king’s fiftieth year upon the throne. Wine spilled like blood across the white tablecloths, and laughter shook the rafters of the great hall. Outside, rain swept the torches to smoke and a great wind tore through the halls. Candles were snuffed, banners ripped from the rafters, and laughter fell to frightened whispers. By morning, the kingdom of Caldryn would speak of only one thing. The witch in the throne room. She came through the open doors with m...

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The Shepherd's Blessing

Submitted to Contest #328

My father has often talked to me about the best days of his life. The best day, he tells me with smothering affection in his ever-cloudier eyes, was the day that he found me. “Wailing louder than the sheep could bleat, naked as the day you were born!” He always laughs at the part, and I can tell he can see that moment more clearly than he can see me right in front of him. “I picked you up, and you reached out to pull my hair - hurt like a bitch. And I knew right away, that’s my son.” The second best day was the day he brought me to the oracl...

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Earlier

Submitted to Contest #328

TW: terminal illness, grief ------- "I wish we could have met earlier in life," she tells you, tears brimming in her eyes like dew-drops on a crisp March morning. Nothing about her is crisp though and it isn't March, it's a bleak November in the last year of her life. You sometimes sing Christmas pop songs to help her go to sleep because of all the things to be sad about, she is hung up on the fact she will not get to decorate another fucking Christmas tree. As though that matters more than the years you are losing. In this last journey of...

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The Pub at the End of the World.

Submitted to Contest #328

“They said I was the chosen one,” I grumbled. “Absolute rubbish.” David had that same bored expression, as he gazed over the bar towards me. He was polishing the same mug as the day before. “Chosen for what?” David asked. A slight, mocking grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. I narrowed my eyes. He was baiting me again, like he did every day. “Fuck it,” I said, biting. “I hope you’re ready for a wild story.” David smiled and lowered the mug. He slung the dirty rag he’d been using over his shoulder and leant against the bar, all ears. I st...

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Got Ninety Nine Resurrections, but Remiss ain’t one

Submitted to Contest #328

Preparing a Ceviche with the Fugu that I’ve fished from the East River was not living up to the hype. I was hoping it would be terminally psychedelic, like last autumn’s mushroom foraging incident in the Berkshires. The dreadful part, was the agonizing pain, the projectile fluids shooting out from everywhere, and the body gradually breaking down. I could never get used to the suffocating aspects of my life slipping away. I do however love the end-of-life dreams though; It’s like the highlight reels of memories on shuffle- and it all fades to...

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I Need To Tell You Something

Submitted to Contest #328

I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING Kyle kept his phone pressed to his ear, weaving through the afternoon sidewalk traffic. Spring had finally arrived in the city. Warm sun. Cherry blossoms starting to bloom along Bridge Street. He was supposed to be in a meeting right now, but screw it. Izzy's birthday was tomorrow and he'd convinced her to ditch work as well and join him for lunch at that Italian place she'd been talking about for weeks. Two blocks ahead, he spotted her waiting at the crosswalk. Phone to her own ear, that familiar tilt to her hea...

11 likes 1 comment 1
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Marcel, the Worst God for the Job

Submitted to Contest #328

The marble pillars of the great hall shook and cracked again as the sixth seal broke. Marcel le Malchanceux and Chengyun, Dragon of the Mist, quickened their pace toward the Chamber of Seals. Marcel could feel the Halls of the Gods unbinding as they ran.“You have to stop her!” Chengyun’s voice shook like a river being dammed.“ME?!” Marcel shot him a look. “What do you expect me to do? You’re a dragon!” His fingers twitched uncontrollably.“Of a small river! You’re the god of—”The hall shook again. Marcel stared, wide-eyed, as Chengyun leaked ...

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2,400 Months

Submitted to Contest #328

“Mr. Mercer…”He felt like his body was stuck in slow-motion, much like it had been in the nightmares of his distant childhood. His mind was reacting quickly, but his body was moving like he was drunk.After a moment, his eyes finally found their way to the judge, sitting far above where he was standing.“Mr. Mercer, I hope you know I am not pleased to have to do this, but you are certainly no stranger to the courts…”Although he wouldn’t allow it to form into a complete thought yet, somehow he already knew what was unfolding as he stood there w...

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Prophesy

Submitted to Contest #328

Niṣṭhā was not, strictly speaking, a believer in prophecy. She considered the exercise frivolous and futile, the indolent, idle vice of the flaccid and feeble-minded.Such a sentiment, of course, amounted to blasphemy of the highest order. However, Niṣṭhā, save for a healthy concern for her own skin, was of a disposition largely unmoved by the platitudes of the faithful. Blasphemy be damned—Niṣṭhā wanted to be queen.Now, that was a dangerous thought to bandy about. The rightful heir by prophecy was her sister, Arasi—whom Niṣṭhā really conside...

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Man and Wife

Submitted to Contest #328

The BeginningPolly's truck ate up the asphalt, and the tiny rocks leapt out of the driveway into the street. She'd had enough of her sister’s drunken romance. She said what she came to say, and she drove away in a cloud of exhaust and disappointment. Minutes earlier, her words hit hard. “Who are you? How did you get into my sister’s life?” She was a cannon. She blasted me. I had no answers, but I sobered up… quick. When she turned to you, you were ready for the fight. You said one word, over and over. “Paul. Paul. PAUL!” Polly’s ex-husba...

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