Attack Of The Dead Men 

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Protector

Thank you for the prompt, @flashfictionfridayofficial

Janus smoothed out her crumpled letter as he watched the sunset beyond the horizon. To say that he hadn’t longed to see his sister after she abandoned them would be a lie, but after years of contemplation and bargaining, he thought that he had at least gotten past caring so much. Chuckling to himself at the irony, Janus supposed that his role of protector wasn’t so easily forgotten, despite what his therapist had been insisting on for years.

What really struck him about all this, was just how simple the letter really was. No pleasantries or excuses, just his sister, asking to meet her brother in a neutral area, and promising to actually explain things for once. Without a doubt it was one of her ruses, so predictable, that it would make anyone who'd known her roll their eyes in disgust. Even as her brother, he’d be a fool to believe such empty words again, yet here he stood, waiting for her like always.

“Mr. Janus?”

Turning, Janus felt the muscles in his jaw tense. The boy standing before him was her spitting image. If he hadn’t known better, then he might have suspected that she ran a fowl with some spirit that compressed her into this form. It wouldn’t be that strange for her, but the boy’s eyes were distinctly inhuman. 

“You must be Clarance.”

The pre-teen nodded his head slowly, gripping the strap of his duffle bag until his knuckles began to turn white. Mother had mentioned him once or twice, but Janus had stopped himself from inquiring about the boy, convinced that it wasn’t his business. Whatever the result, now it had been made his business, and he wished that he had at least listened to the basics.  

“Well then, I suppose your mother left you with some instructions?”

The boy’s eyes widened in panic and he began rooting through his bag, eventually producing a crumpled piece of paper. Stepping hesitantly forward he shoved it towards Janus, who accepted it with a quiet thanks.

-Please keep him safe-

Letting out a heavy sigh, he crumpled the paper and stuffed it into his pocket with her letter. As always it seemed that her promises were as paper thin as the cheap scrap she wrote them on. Straightening his posture Janus smiled at the nervous child. It was pointless to dwell on the twisting mass disappointment in his chest, he could figure out her situation later. Now he had other things to focus on. 

“Are you hungry?”

Tear in Space

@flashfictionfridayofficial thanks for the prompt.

Warnings: descriptive violence

Nihill stood at the edge of a cliff looking down into the gaping mouth with a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach daring him to jump. All of his notes led to this place. Would it be another dead end, or would he finally find the answers that he had so long been searching for?

“You know you’re crazy right?”

Nihill turned, imitating a smile at his shining faced guide. The young man had grown up in these mountains and recently had become known far and wide for his many feats. That was why Nihill hadn’t hesitated in hiring him, why he had insisted that no other guards accompanied them on this venture.

“You really should face someone when speaking such nonsense.”

The guide turned his head to face Nihill, a look of mild confusion crossing his face. Nihill bit back his irritation. It wasn’t his fault, after all.

“The matter still stands, death valley isn’t a place for mortals to walk, everyone knows that.”

His irritation drew Nihill’s attention, and he took a step closer to the edge, dropping a glow stone down into the inky blackness. It was swallowed up in moments, leaving everything to the imagination.

“An interesting choice of words from someone who frequents the valley so often don’t you think? Does that make you some type of immortal, then?”

He could hear the boy’s breath freeze at that. Bingo.

“What are you talking about? No..oone goes into D..death v-valley!”

Nihill turned his head to stare at his stammering guide with a touch of pity. The thing had intended to make a quick meal of him when they made it to the destination, as he had done with more than thirty men before, and the boy whose face he had stolen.

Loosening his robes, Nihill let them fall to the ground, leaving him in a simple pair of worn pants without any of his usual adornments. His skin glowed with ruins that he had painstakingly carved. The most beautiful adornments he had to offer and no one could see them, truly a pity. The thing’s stollen skin peeled away, exposing bloodied fur and a maw filled with razor-sharp teeth.

The creature dove for his robes, tearing through them as he stepped away unharmed.

Nihill watched the creature digging around in confusion for a moment before its jaws locked around one of the pockets, exploding a bag of powder in its face. The jerking motions stopped as the creature blinked in confusion and began sneezing uncontrollably. Nihill stepped forward slowly with a knife in hand. He marveled at the treated surface in his hand, thoughtfully before driving it into the base of its skull. The creature let out a cry of pain before it’s muscles slackened. He probably had about two hours before the creature revived, so he had to work quickly.

peeling away its outer coat, Nihil quickly draped it over his shoulders and let the blood coat his skin. Unpleasant, but there wasn’t much choice if he wanted answers. Once he was mostly obscured, Nihill knelt down near the edge of the cliff, allowing the blood to drip into the void. A set of silver stairs appeared, winding down into the void. He had been right then. This was the place he had been looking for.

The journey down was slow and, at times, rather frustrating, but it wasn’t meant for humans. When he finally reached the base of the valley, Nihill discarded the creature’s skin and pulled his own robes back on. The dark scape before him began to distort in his presence. No human could be in death valley, it was a rule of this world, and it was especially true for something like him.

The air began to fluctuate in front of him, and a tear formed in space. This was it. This is what he’d been searching so desperately for, and now it was here at his fingertips. Stepping towards the void, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. Now, maybe the chaos of this would have some real answers, not that drivel that all of the senile fools spouted. Soon, he would see, soon he would understand why he’d been born without a face and cursed to know it.

An Interesting Conversation

@flashfictionfridayofficial Thank you for the prompt! Also, thank you for your kind words about my drawings and writing in the past :) These prompts have been really good for getting me to write original work more regularly. Thank you so much!

Warnings: alcohol and some tension?

Summary: John runs into an unexpected figure at a lack luster party.

You were quite difficult to track down you know.”

John set down his wine, uninterested in the sparkling liquid after an initial testing. So far, this event had been a waste of his time, and speaking to another elite wasn’t going to improve his souring mood. 

“I keep to myself… Politics no longer hold any interest to me.”

Watching the many debutantes fluttering across the dimly lit ballroom with their sparkling capes and glistening helms had only contributed to the perpetual headache that had recently been plaguing him. He thought he might at least get to meet with someone interesting, but the older participants who might have been good for a story or two were all focused on the dance floor, assessing potential seeds to develop with even less subtlety than a child in a candy store. After two hours of this nonsense, he had little hope that any conversation here would be worth his time. 

“Yet you always hold such sway over the tides of history… I remember reading about your exploits on Teris 7, the carnage that you wrecked… It was inspiring.”

John turned his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the towering figure just to his left. A simple red cape held in place by two golden fasteners caught his attention before the coiling cables draping past her ceremonial helmet snaked into view. She was quite the figure to be appearing here.

“Such high praise, Admiral Krom, but you seem to have me confused with someone, don’t you? I may seem tarnished, but my time does not span further than your father’s.”

He noticed the flinch, turning his body towards the drink he’d laid aside. It seemed more palatable now that the conversation had shifted to such a useless topic. 

Before he could reach for it, his hand was intercepted, the music beginning to swell as bachelors flooded the dancefloor to have their promised turn with a rising star. 

“Humor me?”

With another half hour before the doors would reopen, he accepted her advance, swaying along to the tune until her moves began to shift, turning to a much older step that his body instinctively fell into. 

“The Dying Constellation… banned by the mad emperor after the death of his beloved wife, and nearly lost to time… not the type of thing one’s body forgets, is it?”

John’s shoulders hunched. She was a persistent pup. One who seemed to have done her research.

“What do you want?”

His words were flat, and he wasn’t sold on the conversation, but for her to have learned that dance at such a young age… she deserved a modicum of engagement at least. At the height of the echoing music, Krom dipped him back, pulling his waist towards her with a tense grip and closing the distance between them in an instant. 

“The empire is rotting John. I just want you to do what you do best and remind everyone just how small our bluster is in the face of real monsters.”

Her words rang out like music, causing the husk to stir with excitement in a way he hadn’t felt since encountering the first emperor. Her ambition was palpable, and borderline, desperate, hidden behind a thin facade of calm that was threatening to break with every word she spoke. 

“He was already proud of you, Elodie, and revenge can’t revive the dead.”

He pulled away from her gently, the strength gone from her hands as he picked up his wine, downing the liquid in an attempt to quiet the beating of their hearts. What use would there be in getting excited now? 

“No… But you can, or at least the husk could manage it, right?”

He froze, a spark of interest finally starting to unravel the ball of apathy packed tightly in his chest. Perhaps this party wouldn’t be a total waste of an evening after all.

What's Bloodmage about? 👀👀👀

(I adore the title by the way)

Thanks for the ask! Sorry in advance for the ramble...

Oh boy, how to describe this one... (I will preface this story as insanity with plot. Most of the characters are severely brain damaged or willing to follow along with the crazies to keep them safe, and I love them all. )

An unofficial squad of soldiers and cryptids are trying to stop a vampire cult (who has infiltrated and overtaken a large world power) that plan to block out the sun and take over the world. All while a large war is happening in the background under the orcestration of the vampires. Most ordinary soldiers have no idea what is going on, and a collection of governing cryptids are trying to keep it that way.

After the squad is forcefully split up thanks to the trickery of the enemy leader, the medic of the group is in a plane crash while trying to reunite with the others. The wreck happens to land in a ritual cite put together by the vampires in an attempt to bolster their numbers with another type of volitile cryptid called bloodmages.

Caught up in the ritual, the medic is turned into a bloodmage, but he is one of the severely brain damaged characters and flasely concludes that he has been turned into a vampire. Unable to end himself with the traditional methods, he decides to find his fellow squad mates to continue their goal only to get caught up in another mess involving bloodmage politics.

Extra context: Bloodmages are beings who have been implanted with red blood crystals that are harvested from a deep pit known as the mouth of hell. After a long comatose incubation period the blood mages awake with enhanced durability/longevity and powers unique to their specific brood (powers have pretty significant variability with some potential for overlap such as the ability to make constructs, bombs, and weapons from their blood/blood they condense store up from others). Along with their other abilities, bloodmages are incredibly mentally unstable unless they have something or someone to tether them to reality. This makes them great short term soilders due to their drive for violence, but not for long term use as they tend to start attacking one another if they grow bored with easy combat.

Thanks again for the ask, I've been really bad about keeping on this one due to some hang-ups with the plot, but I love it to death :)

Poem Writing challenge

Thanks for tag @renasdoodles

I don't write poetry much, but this was fun! Thanks for sharing the prompt.

Waiting

Staring at a wall of clocks,

He timed the tics, counted the tocs.

He waited in her favorite chair,

Sitting with a quiet stare.

Till suddenly with grave despair,

He saw her spirit floating there.

It smiled in a simple way,

As her visage faded into grey.

Staring at a wall of clocks,

He couldn't hear their muffled knocks.

He stood up from her favorite chair,

Left with nothing but despair.

Tagging @kuebiko-writing @davycoquette @flurrysahin +open tag

(if you would like to be removed from the tag list, please let me know!)

Heyyy, I forgot to ask bc I got busy but what’s Absolute Zero and The King and His Fairy about? (Wip game) !

No problem! Thanks for the ask :)

Absolute Zero

The story takes place in a world governed by spirits. Once every 500 years two groups of spirits wage war to see who has control over the world for the next cycle, and who will be locked away in the spirit realm. To maintain pride and prevent unnecessary blood shed of spirits they use human vessels who combat in their place. After loosing for more than 3 consecutive cycles, the dark spirits devise a plan and use human servants to work towards creating perfect vessels for them. The cult that forms from that plan steals people and turns them into potential vessels. The main plot follows a failed vessel with a water attribute who finds himself under the thumb of a crazed spirit who was forced to replace one of the original light spirits. To prevent being sealed, the crazed spirit tasks him with finding the other vessels and protecting them so that the spirit is not sealed away.

I've started this story over 6 times now, but I'm never happy with how it flows, so unfortunately I don't have a snippet for it yet :(

The King and his Fairy

Summary: After an event called the awakening gives Warframes more sentience and autonomy they struggle to adapt to the new way of life and their interpersonal dynamics. Titania comes back from a mission and comes to Oberon for a bit of healing. Just a short little one shot story between Titania and Oberon from Warframe that takes place in a slightly altered world. (It's mostly finished I just need to edit it and get it posted but it's a bit sappy and i've been putting it off)

Thanks again for the ask, I love being able to talk about my stories. :)

OC in three

Thanks for the tag, @renasdoodles !

Rules: Find three pictures that fit your OC! Remember to cite your sources and include image IDs to make your post more accessible to people with screen readers!

(Had to just draw my pictures because my phone decided it didn't want to cooperate with downloading images)

Kinda a botched execution, but I tried 🫠

This is for Billy, the snipper from the weird story I am working on.

Tagging: @kuebiko-writing , @davycoquette , @flurrysahin +open tag

(Just let me know if you want to be removed from the tags! Also, no pressure to use the prompt. )

Last Line Tag

Thanks for the tag @kuebiko-writing

Sorry for the late response.

This is just a bit of my little bloodmage WIP giving a bit of perspective on Billy's motivations

Forest Guardian’s were, above all else, the protectors of nature and were often referred to as its shepherds. Long had they used their power and gile to protect their flock. That had been fine when the humans still held reverence for the sacred, but as that reverence faded, humans had changed. They become far too dangerous to rely on traditional methods. Defeat after defeat forced the shepherds to evolve, and Billy had been no different.

Handing his staff over to the strange human he watched as the living wood of his shepherds crook was twisted into a more fitting tool, no not just a tool, this thing was a weapon that he would use to sow vengeance.

No pressure tags: @kuebiko-writing @renasdoodles @davycoquette @flurrysahin ,

@literally-just-zay @creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony + open tag

(Let me know if you want to be taken off the tag list)