Are we getting a second week of Hallowe'en prompts then? Or will there just be random ones as the mood takes you?
The Terror “This is like summer holidays when I was a kid,” said Famine. He, War and Hilda were walking down a corkscrew shaft in the rock. There were signs that there had once been stairs here, but more obvious signs that something heavy had fallen through them, smashing them into shards and leaving only open space and the occasional piece of jagged rock around the edges. Light flickered dimly from above, but as they made another turn it petered out completely and they were in darkness. Just as neither of them were bothered to be walking on thin air down steps that no longer existed, neither of them were bothered by the lack of light. “What?” War’s sonorous voice boomed and echoed nicely in the rocky helix and he smiled reflexively, pleased with himself. “You used to go caving in summer? I remember your dad, he definitely didn’t seem like the type that got out of the house much.” “Not with him,” said Famine. “He was wedded to the job. I think he spent three years solid in Texas once, creating the dust bowl. He said he had one of those little fire huts up in the mountains so he could what he was doing clearly. I can remember my mum being furious with him for the amount of dust he brought back. No, one of my cousins, the one we called the Terror, liked to go into dark places like this and scare the shit out of people. He took me along for a couple of summers.” “Terror,” said War. He sounded thoughtful. Hilda hiccoughed, and a tongue of flame illuminated the corkscrew for just long enough for them to see that there were still no steps. “He’s working for me now. He’s out in the Middle East, he’s got a training camp I think. Doesn’t send reports through as often as he should. I ought to send Susan out to see how he’s getting on. Didn’t know he was a cousin of yours though.” “Yeah, sis,” said Famine. “He’s a cousin of Pest’s, too.” “I can see how that works,” said War. “Watch your step, we’ve hit rock bottom.” Famine chuckled, then caught himself. “Was that a joke?” he said. “Did War actually unbend enough to make a joke?” “Shut up,” said War. He strode out of the helical shaft into a new, humid cavern and crystalline fragments shattered beneath his feet. There was a moment of stillness, and then light breathed out from the walls, a soft murky greenish-yellow light as thought they were 10 metres below the surface of the sea on a sunny day. The floor of the cavern was covered in shattered crystals, the remnants of the stairs, and three large rocks, seemingly parts of a once massive boulder, were embedded across the cavern in the walls. “Do you get the feeling that someone was trying to kill someone else when this happened?” asked Famine. “Somewhat,” said War. “It’s a shame Scuffles isn’t here to help with this.” “True, fam,” said Famine. “Especially since I’m getting a bad feeling.”
2 comments:
Are we getting a second week of Hallowe'en prompts then? Or will there just be random ones as the mood takes you?
The Terror
“This is like summer holidays when I was a kid,” said Famine. He, War and Hilda were walking down a corkscrew shaft in the rock. There were signs that there had once been stairs here, but more obvious signs that something heavy had fallen through them, smashing them into shards and leaving only open space and the occasional piece of jagged rock around the edges. Light flickered dimly from above, but as they made another turn it petered out completely and they were in darkness. Just as neither of them were bothered to be walking on thin air down steps that no longer existed, neither of them were bothered by the lack of light.
“What?” War’s sonorous voice boomed and echoed nicely in the rocky helix and he smiled reflexively, pleased with himself. “You used to go caving in summer? I remember your dad, he definitely didn’t seem like the type that got out of the house much.”
“Not with him,” said Famine. “He was wedded to the job. I think he spent three years solid in Texas once, creating the dust bowl. He said he had one of those little fire huts up in the mountains so he could what he was doing clearly. I can remember my mum being furious with him for the amount of dust he brought back. No, one of my cousins, the one we called the Terror, liked to go into dark places like this and scare the shit out of people. He took me along for a couple of summers.”
“Terror,” said War. He sounded thoughtful. Hilda hiccoughed, and a tongue of flame illuminated the corkscrew for just long enough for them to see that there were still no steps. “He’s working for me now. He’s out in the Middle East, he’s got a training camp I think. Doesn’t send reports through as often as he should. I ought to send Susan out to see how he’s getting on. Didn’t know he was a cousin of yours though.”
“Yeah, sis,” said Famine. “He’s a cousin of Pest’s, too.”
“I can see how that works,” said War. “Watch your step, we’ve hit rock bottom.”
Famine chuckled, then caught himself. “Was that a joke?” he said. “Did War actually unbend enough to make a joke?”
“Shut up,” said War. He strode out of the helical shaft into a new, humid cavern and crystalline fragments shattered beneath his feet. There was a moment of stillness, and then light breathed out from the walls, a soft murky greenish-yellow light as thought they were 10 metres below the surface of the sea on a sunny day. The floor of the cavern was covered in shattered crystals, the remnants of the stairs, and three large rocks, seemingly parts of a once massive boulder, were embedded across the cavern in the walls.
“Do you get the feeling that someone was trying to kill someone else when this happened?” asked Famine.
“Somewhat,” said War. “It’s a shame Scuffles isn’t here to help with this.”
“True, fam,” said Famine. “Especially since I’m getting a bad feeling.”
Greg - eh, who knows with me.
Got distracted by the idea of Famine as a kid and never fully recovered. In the best possible way, obviously.
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