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Next prompt is on Wednesday. I continue to be disappointed with all of you who didn't submit a prompt last time, but good for Charaxes, WIBN, and Mason for participating. Also, you don't need to edit lock your posts, but you can if you want to, I guess.

 

Rules:

1. Pick one of the prompts and write about it for no more than 20 minutes. You can write for longer if you want, but only words written during the 20 minutes count towards your total, so mark where you ran out of time.

2. You will be graded on wordcount and overall coherence. You will not be graded on quality, so write as fast as you can while still producing something that makes sense and would be salvageable with cleanup. It doesn't have to have an ending or form a complete story, but it should at least read like an excerpt from a longer work.

3. When you're done, post your wordcount. Posting your story is optional. We understand it will be terrible.

4. You may go back and work on previous days if you missed them.

5. You may write fanfiction if your heart desires.

 

Prompt #1: The narrator has trouble telling what's real and what's not. (Prompt courtesy of Steve.)

Prompt #2: A knight guarding a fancy lady from some angry peasants who are throwing things

 

@WouldntItBeNice @Steve24833 @JJJ-thebanisher @Seto @bbshark @Bucky @mizal @FrankIevatus @TheNewIAP @Romulus @TacocaT @Crescentstar @Mayana @Zulutrader @MasonJarGuzzi

About the prompt1, basicly that would be someone telling a story, about what happened to them, but they told something that they believed was true but wasn't? Not sure if I understood it right, but if yes, I might participate this time.

You could interpret it that way, sure. I was thinking it was more like the person whose POV the story is written from is unreliable, but I'll take it if it sorta relates to the prompt.

Ah sorry, guess I understood it the wrong way, my English is terrible. Will try to come up with an idea that's more in line to the prompt, and actually write some Sirius this time, unlike the picture thing :P

These prompts are especially vague this time around... I'll try my best, though

So busy with the contest xD

Did prompt 1 though, and got 549 words. I already had an idea for something like this :P Or well, close enough to this. The writing I did reads more like a plot outline tbh though.

704

Prince Alexander rode his horse through the street, his great-sword in his hands. His loyal knights rode alongside him, their swords hacking through the possessed villagers. His loyal subjects, humble, kind, good men, their faces now twisted with hatred, their eyes completely black, their mouths open in horrible howls. He felt the corrupt influence of the Obsidian Stone that had only been uncovered by an expedition under the very center of the village. That stone, which had corrupted his humble, simple people, was now trying to corrupt his mind. Only him and his six loyal, brave knights were the only ones still capable of fighting for good, the rest of the village either demonically possessed, or left to be devoured, tortured or worse at the hands of the demons. 

Prince Alexander leapt off his horse, running his sword through the chest of a demonic villager, pulling it out to bash another in the head and knocking her to the ground before beheading her in a single swing. Alexander hacked off the clawed, mutated arm of another howling villager, before impaling another.

Suddenly, the world shifted, as a pained headache hit Alexander, bringing him to his knees. He looked up, seeing horned, mutated, clawed beasts riding on black, flaming horses, howling and laughing as they slaughtered scores of villagers trying to defend themselves with daggers and simple swords. He looked down, seeing the poor young girl who was impaled on his sword.

The world shifted again, as he saw his proud, gleaning armored brothers riding their horses, barely fending off the armies of demonic monsters. Alexander shook his head, pulling his sword from the monster he had run it through, blocking a clawed swipe from a grinning villager, his… or it’s teeth like a hungry wolf’s. Alexander dodged a bite, smashing his sword pommel into its head and knocking it to the ground and beheading it. Prince Alexander watched as his horse was pulled down by the demonic villagers, who hacked it apart with blade, claw and tooth. One of his knights, Sir Thristan, rode up, grabbing Alexander’s hand and pulling him onto his own horse.

“My lord! Are you OK?” he asked, looking concerned.

Reality flickered as Alexander stared at the demonic knight, his long, forked tongue flickered out. Reality went back, and Alexander found himself staring at one of his closest friends.

“I… I’m fine,” Alexander replied.

A demon charged the flank of the horse, as Alexander thurst his sword into its belly before kicking him to the ground. Sir Thristan spurred the horse forward.

“We need to end this!” he said. “Sir, are you sure you’re alright?”

Reality flickered, and once again Alexander saw himself among the company of demonic knights slaughtering civilians. A knight ran his spear through the throat of a young woman trying to escape, before hacking apart an elderly man trying to protect himself with a rusted sword. Alexander looked at the civilians, and took a deep breath. 

The… what if the Obsidian Stone had already corrupted him? What if these short visions of his demonic knights butchering civilians was the truth? What if his mind was only now growing immune to the corrupting element?

“Burn! Rape! Kill! Obliterate!” one of the demonic knights howls.

Prince Alexander watched as a knight threw a spear, embedding a running child. He took a deep breath, before grabbing the knight he was riding with and tossing him off the horse, into the grip of the civilians, who pulled down the roaring monster. Alexander knocked another surprised demon off his horse, who screeched as the civilians overpowered him. Alexander used his element of surprise to quickly beat back the remaining knights, as the civilian masses managed to over-power the demonic knights. A spear but smashed into Alexander’s head, sending him hurtling towards the ground.

***

Prince Alexander walked along gallows, his hands cuffed. Several nooses hung in front of him, where bound demonic knights, chained extensively, were being put into the nooses. The demons howled, spit and cursed, hissing at Prince Alexander as he approached the gallows. The civilians in the crowd cheered as they watched his head being put in the noose.

Once again, reality shifted, and Prince Alexander looked around. 

“My lord!” a knight said, his voice a mixture of pain, confusion and betrayal. “Why have you forsaken us? Why have…?”

The trapdoor opened as the knight dropped, his neck broken. The other knights continued questioning Alexander, begging for answers, as Alexander looked towards the crowd. Now, there were packs of demons, dotted with living civilians, all beaten, bruised, bleeding and begging for mercy as the demons took their time, inflicting as much pain as possible.

Had the stone been corrupting him this whole time, and only at the end did he grow immune to its whispers and realize that his knights, rich, greedy nobles, had been possessed and corrupted? Or at the end did his mind’s defenses finally shatter to the corrupting power of the Obsidian Stone, causing him to betray his friends and abandon the last few pure humans left.

The world continued shifting, back and forth between reality and falsehood, as Prince Alexander began to weep in confusion, praying to the dear Lord that he had chosen right.

The trapdoor opened.

Word Count: 972

Princess Carrodine lowered he head as the mysterious knight appeared and sheltered her. She could still hear the crowd jeering at her as they moved towards the safety of the castle. Tomatoes and other vegetables slammed into the shield and she grunted as something particularly hard slammed into her spine despite the protection of the soft red cloak she felt gliding gently across her arm. Wordlessly he escorted the princess to the closest door to the castle and he stood blocking the crowd as she opened the door and stepped inside. She turned back to see him and could hear projectiles slamming into him from behind. She looked deep into the slits of the helmet, but she could see nothing in the darkness within. She smiled weakly and whispered, “Thank you.” He said not a word, but merely nodded as he reached out to close the door. She sighed as the darkness closed in but the sounds of the crowd continued outside.

She reached up and slowly removed the crown from her head as her eyes adjusted to the torchlight inside the castle passageway. Brushing away some red jellied substance from her dress, she turned and started walking further into the castle. While she was moving slowly, her mind was spinning. She could not understand why the crowd reacted the way they did. She was only trying to bring them good news, why would they be so angry? Her mother tried to tell her that being a leader of people was difficult and that the people were often fickle. Apparently the princess needed to learn more about politics and how to speak to people than about facts and reality. As she walked, she got angrier at the advisor that had suggested that she tell the people about the upcoming execution. After all, she was princess, she had the power of life or death over everyone in the kingdom. Maybe that advisor, what was his name? Maybe that advisor will be the next one to face execution. Perhaps that would make the crowd happy. Or maybe, just maybe, she should start executing anyone in the crowd who dared to insult her. She knew her history, and she knew that there were kings and queens before that would do such a thing. Sure, in the history books, these people were painted as monsters, but now she understood how they could be that way. After all, she wouldn’t have to have very many of the people killed before they would all fall in line, would she? And what would a couple of deaths be if it were good for the people overall? She almost started to smile as she thought about how she could increase the general welfare of the people with just a few sacrifices. Perhaps she should head back down the hallway and get that guardian knight to start identifying the most vocal of the crowd. It would not take long to gather up a couple of them and have a nice, public execution.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she arrived at the end of the dimly lit hallway. The hallway opened up into a larger room with a round table surrounded by a number of chairs. In the largest chair sat an old, withered man, slumped to the side. He would appear dead except for the high-pitched wheezing that could be heard echoing off the stone walls of the chamber. The princess looked up and ran towards him while calling out, “Oh, father, the people are so awful!”

The wizened old man straightened up slightly as she approached and tried to lift his arms to receive her. His voice was just a whisper as he replied, “Princess, they are what they are, and they are all different. None the same as the next.” He paused to take a deep breath, the air wheezing again through his windpipe, before continuing, “And they are our people, soon to be your own people. You must learn them and understand them if you are to rule them.” He stopped again, breathing heavily as if putting forth a great effort. “You need to find a way to get them to trust and respect you, or your rule will be short, deadly, and dangerous.” His eyes closed as if just speaking the words exhausted him.

The princess stepped away from him and stomped her foot. “Father, I have had enough of them. I think that I shall have to rule them as Queen Mave ruled them years ago.”

The old king’s eyes opened at the mention of the evil queen. He slowly shook his head side-to-side and took another breath before speaking, “My dear, while one can rule with power and fear, those are dark times for the people and the royalty. No daughter of mine should go down in history in such a way.” He shifted his weight on the chair and gasped for air again. With another wheeze he said, “Tis better that you should renounce your rule, end our family, and escape from the lands than be known as a sister to Queen Mave.”

Her face softened as she looked at the king again. She said, “I know that you are right, father, but I don’t know how to rule this rabble. I did what my advisors said and the people pelted me with fruit!”

A smile cracked the old wrinkles in the king’s face as he whispered, “Then perhaps you need a new advisor.”

The princess smiled and started to laugh and the king tried to join in. After a laugh or two, he started coughing, but the smile never left the princess’ face as she leaned in to gently hug her old father. She said, “Indeed father, perhaps you are right. But then perhaps you are the best advisor that I could have.”