19/04/2020: Rite of Passage (Part 1)

Yestermorning proved a little treat for us. King had summoned us and finally told us what we'd all been relishing: a chance for fame, and a chance for glory. Well, at least that's what I'm relishing. I have no idea what the motivations of the others are, but we all have something in common: we all want to become blood hunters.

I know that the art of blood magic is dangerous and dark, and I know that it can also be a really powerful tool, but honestly, that's not why I wanted to become a blood hunter. To be honest, I kind of just stumbled into this Blood Hunter training stronghold when I following King (that's... his name, he's not actually a king, although he'd jump at any chance to become one). King was... interesting. He was really different. He had the look of danger and evil, and yet he was extremely passionate. I soon came to find out what he was passionate about: blood magic. People who embrace blood magic are crazy fanatics, willing to sacrifice their own life force to harness it. It's an old, old magic, long forgotten by many. When I heard about it, my curiosity piqued. The world, after all, is in need of bold, new action. And sometimes, boldness comes in reviving something old. If I, a simple bard, could harness the power of blood magic, my name would be uttered all throughout the lands...

And that was enough to send me away from our stronghold in Scorchwood, on a quest that King sent us on: the quest that would determine if we would ever be able to harness the power of blood magic.

It seemed simple enough: travel to Duskvale and capture or kill the vile creatures that have been tormenting travellers and villagers alike. It seemed simple, but King warned us: this was our Rite of Passage to becoming Blood Hunters; we either complete it, or, we die...

Regardless of these ominous bodings, a group of us set off.

I'm used to this company, since we have trained together for the past few months under King. Though, I don't know too much about them. There's Kal'Dur, a dwarf cleric who was abandoned as a child, and owes his life to the priest who took him under his wings. He shared my horse on the eight hour journey to Duskvale, and made good company.

When we reached Duskvale just after high noon, myself and the dwarf were starving. We looked around for market stalls to buy food, but the town was deserted. Market stalls were overturned, tents abandoned, and houses were shuttered up. These villagers were being haunted and tormented... by a creature that we had to kill. It seemed grim.

We met with a villager, who had told us that there were horrific howlings in the nighttime after sundown, and shortly before midnight, villagers and travelers would disappear. They had lost around 7 people, just in the last few nights.

The villager introduced us to Duskvale's mayor, Tika. She was cute, and had a way with the men in my party. Mr Monk, who I swore had taken a vow of silence, actually spoke up to greet her. The dwarf was drooling beside me.

Tika told us that a hunter in the village had seen huge, jet black beasts before being dragged off into the outskirts of the town square. Upon hearing that we were there to help, Tika provided us with food, and the dwarf and I inhaled it.

Meanwhile, Elyon, who had been raised by wolves as a youngling, scouted the area and found a series of tracks indicating great traffic in one of the town's entrances. The tracks showed several human and canine footprints, the canine ones being larger than a wolf's.

The group decided we should make a trap. If we had any chance of saving these villagers, we'd need to be prepared. I looked around for help, and noticed that Fredrickson, the self-proclaimed holy and noble knight who's sole desire was to save the kingdom, was fast asleep.

So I gathered some wood, and Elyon lent me some of her rope. My plan was to build a simple trigger trap, one like I had built many a time for small rabbits. I was having trouble though, as I had never built a trap for anything this large before, and Elyon stepped in and helped me set it up. By the time we finished, it was getting closer to sundown; the creatures would be coming shortly.

Kal, the dwarf, volunteered to be bait, and Mr Monk hid himself next to the trap for prime location. Nearby were Fredrickson, Elyon, Tika, and Miranda. I don't know much about Miranda, except that she's a human sorceress with a Draconian lineage.

I stayed at the back, ready to cast spells from a safe distance - after all, I'm no fighter, I let the pros handle that sort of thing.

Sundown. I thought the houses were already shuttered, but we could hear the slams and clicks of doors being locked throughout the village. Then... silence.

For a brief moment, a clear moon broke through the clouds, casting an ominous glow on the party. Then, back to darkness.

We waited for a while. Hours.

Then, just before midnight: howling.

A soft sound carried through the gentle night winds: we could hear rattling of chains growing louder and louder, accompanied by soft footfalls from beyond the town's edge.

My heart was pounding, for a few moments I was certain that these creatures would hear my heartbeat. Then, SNAP!

The moon broke through the clouds again, shedding light on our enemies. I could see them: three charnel hounds, on chains held by three cultists. One of the cultists was stuck in Elyon's trap. The hounds looked like beasts raised from the fires of Hell itself. Their figures waved around, almost like their skin were made of smoke. They gnashed their sharp teeth, and ravaged the grounds with their sharp claws. They were huge; each looked like living boulders hungry for their next meal. Gee was I glad I was hanging in the back.

Before I knew it, all three hounds attacked: one at Fredrickson, one at Kal, and the other at Miranda. They were all bitten, and bleeding. It was looking bad.

Suddenly, I heard a twang in the dark, and a loud howling whimper. Elyon must have shot one with her longbow. Meanwhile, Fredrickson was struggling to fight his hound. His sword was far too long and heavy for him to manouvre in close combat. Spells were being thrown here and there, shots were fired, and I added a sleep spell into the mix. Two of the cultists and one of the hounds dropped to the ground.

Sometime during this, I saw that Miranda had managed to kill the cultist and the hound that were on her back, but she was badly injured.

Kal tried to feed one of the hounds. It ate the food, but not without having a snip at poor Kal's fingers.

Luckily, Kal was able to heal himself. After a few more blows from Monk, Frederickson, Elyon, and Tika, the hound and the cultist that were asleep from my spell, perished.

We were down to just one trapped harmless cultist, and one hound.

Kal's naive wishful thinking gave me an idea, and I whipped out my trusty pan flute and started playing a melody I always played for my horse.

The melody made the hound pause in its tracks, and Kal reached out a hand to pet it. This time, it didn't bite. It sat its hind legs down, propped up its ears, and wagged its tail. We had tamed him!

We celebrated! It was an hour past midnight, and we were in dire need of some sleep, but first, we needed answers.

Fredrickson was the first to get up in the cultist's face and ask him who the hell he was and what the hell he was doing. The cultist was a shameful excuse for a fighter; he actually pissed his pants and begged for us to let him go back to his family. This seemed to set off a nerve in the Monk, who proceeded to kick in his kneecaps. Who knew Monks could be so violent, hey?

Kal, playing good cop, healed the cultist, who reiterated that he was just a new member of the cult. Upon further questioning, the cultist said that he served the Thief of Shadows, his job was to collect sacrifices for the Dark Mistress. He told us that if we went East towards the Old Quarry, we would be met with simply 2 guards. Inside the quarry cave, we would find prisoners inside, but they often didn't stay alive for any more than 2 days. The hounds, one of them now my pet, were demons that they controlled to collect the sacrifices.

We had heard enough. Tika locked the cultist in jail, and offered us lodgings for the night.

When we awake, we ride into the Quarry, find this Dark Mistress, and defeat her. Thus, we will complete our Rite of Passage.

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Word Count: 1530 words

Comment: This is a summary of the first half of a Dungeons and Dragons game that Scott created for a group of us. I thought I would take the opportunity to use ths game as a writing prompt for myself to write from the point of view of the character I played, Arvyal Duskmire, a half-elf bard. I had fun with the game, and fun with writing up these notes.

List of characters (and their players) in alphabetical order:

• Arvyal Duskmire (Chloe)
• Elyon-Hoshi Estresal (Dyan)
• Fredrickson (Colin)
• Kal'Dur (John)
• Miranda Mordred (Emma)
• Mr Monk (LJay)

Dungeon Master: Scott

13/03/2020: When dreams are vivid, and real.

First Prompt: Write about someone who can pause time or relive old memories at will.

Second Prompt: Start with "If you really want to hear about it,"


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"If you really want to hear about it, I dreamt I was with her... again. I lay my head on the pillow and closed my eyes, and suddenly she was right before me. It was our first date. She wore a pink blouse and blue skinny jeans. I could always remember what clothes she wore, so this wasn't new to me. But when I saw her last night, she was wearing a bracelet. I never remembered that. I had been with her for 5 years and I never remember her wearing any bracelets during that time."

"Yeah but... this is just a dream, right?" Mike, my colleague, interrupted me in between mouthfuls on our lunch break. He had asked me how I've been lately, and I told him I hadn't had a good sleep, because of a dream I had. He asked me about it. At first I hesitated; it was too personal. But I really wanted to just tell someone about the bracelet.

Mike continued, "Also, your dreams sound so... vivid! My dreams are always a messy blur; I only ever remember vague notions of what happened. Anyway, that's intense you dreamed about your first date together. How are you feeling?"

I paused.

What Mike didn't know was... I can control my dreams. In fact, they're not actually dreams because I'm not actually sleeping. I'm reliving old memories.

I do tend to only relive my memories at night though, or at least when I'm alone, because to the outsider it really does look like I'm sleeping. My eyes are closed and my body goes limp so I don't move around like I did in those memories.

I can also choose how long I want to relive the memory for. I simply concentrate on the event, tell myself how long I want to relive it for, and it happens.

Recently, I've been choosing to relive 8 hours of each memory overnight, during the time that I'd usually be sleeping.

The problem is that I'm not actually getting any sleep. I'm fully conscious the entire time, so I can get really groggy at work the next day. Mike noticed this and asked me about it today.

"I... I'm fine." I finally replied to him. I couldn't tell him that I felt guilty for never realising she wore a bracelet on our first date, and I was starting to regret ever opening up to him in the first place.

"Hey, listen, mate. You're going through a tough time, and it's not good if you're having all these vivid dreams about her, that's not gonna help at all. But you can talk to me." Mike's mouth hung open as if he was about to say more, but he quickly took another mouthful of his toasted sandwich.

I kept twirling my canned spaghetti around my fork. I haven't been cooking any meals to try and maximise the time I get to relive my moments with her. I haven't had a proper meal for a few weeks already.

Mike carried on, "So, you got any plans this weekend?" God I wish he could just stop talking and let me eat in peace.

"Nope." I replied. But of course, I did have plans: to relive some more memories.

"Well hey, I was gonna go to a local footy match with my mates, wanna come?" Mike smiled at me.

"Oh no, no thank you. I... I just need some time to myself right now." I quickly said, shoving some of that canned spaghetti into my mouth to avoid talking any more.

Besides, I never hung out with Mike. Ever. Not even... before. I knew he was just inviting me out of pity. I didn't want anyone's pity. I just wanted to be with her again.

Mike nodded silently.

I first found out I could relive old memories when I was 22. Not when I reached puberty like those mutants did in those X-Men films.

It was weird, because I was at a stage where I felt like I finally knew who I was growing up to be.

I had started a new job as a software engineer after years of studying and "soul searching". I moved out of home. I had met her, and fallen in love. I discovered I liked playing the guitar. I was starting to understand who I was becoming.

And suddenly, everything I thought I knew about myself went out the window. Suddenly, I had this weird ability to travel back in time. Although I realised I wasn't actually time travelling, because I didn't have my present day mind in my past self.

No, everything stayed the same. I relived memories and with them I relived past feelings, played out the same conversations and actions, and wasn't able to change anything.

I used to hate it because I would realise that often some fond memories, once properly relived, were actually a little skewed. Sometimes I would think about a funny thing that happened in high school, then I would relive it. Only for me to wake up cringing from how I talked as a teenager, how I styled my hair, and how many cues I missed from all the girls that were interested in me.

I rarely relived memories. And if I did, they would only be for things that happened recently, or things that I truly wanted to experience again. When she went overseas for a business trip and I was missing her. When I wanted to taste that delicious (yet expensive) dessert from that fancy fine dining restaurant. When I wanted to go back to Paris without the hefty price tag.

Apart from that, my reality was better than my memories.

"Anyway, let me know if you ever want to hang. As I said, you can talk to me." Mike stood up and placed his empty dishes in the dishwasher.

I looked at my watch and realised my entire lunch hour had passed and I'd only eaten half of the canned spaghetti.

I quickly forked the rest of my meal down into my throat. Slurping the noodles and swallowing without ever chewing.

I cleaned up, and headed back to work.

These next few hours are going to be productive, I told myself.

Well, they had to be. A productive day meant the day went quicker. It was quicker to home time, and quicker for me to relive my moments with her.

I lived for the night. I lived for the memories, and the chance to escape from reality again.

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Word count: 1088

Comment: This was my third submission to the weekly Reedsy Prompts contest. This week's theme was magical realism. I also combined this prompt with another prompt to write in the traditional first person point of view. I realised most of my writing is in first person, so I might try and change it up next time.

This story was quite fun but a bit of a slog to get started. I literally had to force myself to sit down and write, but once I started writing it was easier to keep writing. I guess that's the point of doing these writing prompts - just get something down, even if it's not a masterpiece. I liked the idea of this prompt too, and it made me wonder - if I could relive anything, would I? Or would I choose to just live my life as it is, here and now? An interesting thought.

Also, if you would like to see my Reedsy profile and all my submissions, click here. 

23/02/2020: Mister Snuffles

Prompt: Write a story about someone who loses their cat


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Water splashed into Tori's shoes, soaking her socks.

Ugh, gross, Tori thought, pulling her left foot out of an ankle-deep puddle. She gingerly stepped her way to the side of the dark alleyway, water squelching underfoot with every step she took. Leaning against the wall, Tori pulled off her shoe, letting the water pour out.

Taking this moment to catch her breath, Tori looked around her. She was in the middle of a dark alleyway, which reeked with the rotting smell of week-old garbage radiating from the large, four-wheeled bins lining the alleyway.

She looked at her watch. It was just a few minutes to midnight; she needed to hurry.

Goddamn it, where could he be?

It was getting late, she shouldn't be out on the streets at this time of the night. But she didn't have it in her heart to give up. He's gotta be here somewhere.

She wrung out her wet sock, and crammed her foot back into her soaked shoe. Tori gazed up at the night sky, but couldn't make out the full moon. The multi-storey apartment buildings that lined the alleyway towered above her, blocking out most of the city's lights so that she could just make out a few stars through the haze of pollution, always lingering around the city.

She took a deep breath, and ran down the alley, back to the main street. Without slowing down, she rounded the corner, running straight into someone. Tori felt a sharp pain in her right ankle as her hands hit the ground. For a moment, she was frozen. She was sitting on the pavement, her legs sticking out at uncomfortable angles from underneath her, her right ankle throbbing with pain, shooting up aches through her legs, paralysing her whole body.

It felt like minutes, but Tori was probably only on the ground for a few seconds before she heard a voice above her.

"Hey! Watch werrr yih goin'!"

Tori looked up. She had ran into a homeless man, his right hand swinging around a walking stick accusingly at her. In his left hand, he carried a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. The man looked like a large dome towering over Tori, with all the layers he had wrapped himself in to prepare for the chilly night. It looked like he had a whole wardrobe on his back. Underneath a large woolly beanie, Tori could see the man's face. He despised her.

"I- I'm so sorry," She managed to get out.

The homeless man didn't seem to hear her though. He yelled out, "Get ofda groun' yer blockin' de way!" and started drunkenly kicking at her with his steel-capped boots. Lucky for Tori, the man seemed to have drunk most of the bottle he was carrying, and some of his kicks blindly fell through the air. Some of them, though, landed straight into Tori's chest. She wheezed as the air was knocked out of her lungs, and used her hands and her left leg to quickly shuffle backwards away from the drunken man.

She didn't have much more to worry about, though; the man seemed to get bored of kicking the air, and he spat at the ground in front of her before turning away, stumbling drunkenly down the street.

Tori let out a big sigh. She definitely shouldn't be on the streets this late at night. It was time to go home. She would take the day off tomorrow and continue her search.

Her chest and her ankle throbbed as she slowly stood up. She rubbed her chest, almost certain there would be a huge boot-sized bruise there when she woke up the next morning. At least the homeless man hadn't broken her rib cage. She couldn't say the same for her right ankle, though. She looked down as a sharp pain shot up her leg every time she tried to shift her weight onto that foot.

She limped back in the direction of her apartment.

"Great, just great," she muttered to herself, left shoe still squelching as right foot ached.

She had been limping back to her apartment block for almost 20 minutes when she saw a weird light emanating from one of the alleyways in front of her. The light was a swirl of neon green and purple, and it pulsed as if alive with a heartbeat.

This alleyway was just two blocks from her apartment, and she had never seen this kind of thing happen here before. Or anywhere, rather.

Her curiosity piqued, Tori limped quicker towards this alleyway. As she got closer, the light became brighter, and pulsed even quicker.

She stopped right in front of the alleyway, and was showered in a sea of swirling purple and green light. Immediately, she held up both hands to shield her eyes from the blinding light. Through her fingers, she saw a silhouette standing in the middle of the bright light. He was shaped like a large dome, reminding Tori of the homeless man she had run into earlier.

She could hear the man muttering to himself.

Perhaps he's insane, Tori thought to herself. But that wouldn't explain what this strange light was. She wasn't insane, was she? Yet she could see this bizarre light show.

She listened carefully and realised that she wasn't hearing the mutterings of a lunatic, there was a distinct rhythm and pattern to his mutterings. They rose and fell as the light pulsed around her. He was chanting.

I better get out of here, I shouldn't be out in the streets this late at night, Tori quickly turned to go before the man could see her, but before she even took her first step, the light stopped.

Darkness washed over her. Even the light from the streetlamps and the full moon above seemed a dull grey compared to what had just emitted from the alleyway.

Tori paused in her tracks, her eyes set on her apartment, her back half turned away from the alleyway. She was hoping the man could still not see her.

But, it turns out, he could.

"Victoria Paisley," he called out, as if his voice was amplified by speakers surrounding Tori's head, "known to her family as Vicky, and to her friends as Tori (as an act of rebellion against her parents' nickname), in search of her tabby cat Agent Felix, known to his master as Mister Snuffles, brown-grey in colour, with black stripes, who, at half-past nine this evening, left their apartment unit 14, number 53 Hunter Street, in the east vicinity of Shelbytown. Current afflictions: fractured ankle, bruised chest, light-induced migraine, and mild abrasion to the left knee."

Tori dropped a hand to feel her left knee. Sure enough, there was a patch of skin that had been rubbed off, probably when she fell after bumping into that homeless man. It didn't even hurt, she barely noticed it.

"I am so very glad," the man continued, "that you decided to stop by and pay a visit. Although... it is unwise to be out on the streets at this time of night."

Tori slowly turned around, her chest and ankle aching as she did so.

"Wha-, did you jus-, what, did you say that-, how did you-" she was, quite understandably, lost for words.

The man waved his hand at her nonchalantly.

"Please, questions later. For now, let me look at your injuries. Come towards me, away from the main street."

Tori turned her head and eyed her apartment, two blocks away. If she hadn't've rolled her ankle - or fractured as this man said, she could have made a run for it.

"It's okay, you can trust me." The man said, as if reading her thoughts. She had no other choice.

Tori limped forward, eyeing this man that seemed to know everything about her and Mister Snuffles - did he say that Mister Snuffles' name was Agent Felix??? There's no way this guy was right in the head, how could Mister Snuffles be Agent Felix? I have to get out of here, this guy's not right in the head. But how did he know my-

Tori had not noticed that as she limped towards the man, the man had started to approach her. He had reached her quickly, picked her up by her arms, and flung her towards the back of the alley.

Her body was sore all over as it collided into the cold, hard, wet pavement.

"Hey, what the hell-"

The man crouched above her. Tori tried to scramble away from him but he was too quick; in a swift, karate-chop motion, he hit his hand across the bridge of her nose.

A sharp, searing pain spread from the bridge of her nose through to the back of her head. The inside of her skull seemed to be on fire, and Tori was momentarily blinded by an intense pain.

Within seconds of recovering her vision, Tori felt the wind knocked out of her lungs for the second time that night; the man had dug the heel of his palm deep into her chest. He held it there as Tori struggled for breath. She gasped but no air passed through her mouth. The edges of her vision started to fade to black as she choked on nothingness.

He finally lifted his hand off her chest and Tori gasped for air. She turned to rest on her right arm, choking on the feeling of her lungs filling up.

Then the man stood up, a big dome towering above her. Tori was reminded of the moment the homeless man started kicking her. She automatically lifted her left hand to protect her face. She knew she couldn't fight back, or block any of his blows, but it was an automatic reaction.

The man lifted his knee up towards his chest, and brought it down on Tori's fractured ankle.

She gave a great yell as she was once again paralysed in sheer pain. She heard a distinct crack, and her foot went numb as the rest of her body felt like daggers had come out from under her skin.

Time stood still for a moment, before Tori found herself leaning on her hands, her mouth agape, drool dribbling down onto the ground below her. Her body was throbbing all over. As if she had forgotten to breathe for the last few moments, she sharply inhaled a lung full of air. Her breathing was rapid, and she realised she was crying, her tears mixing in with the rain that had pooled in between the pebbles in the ground.

"I know it hurts now," a voice above her said, calmly.

She looked up. It was the man. She had forgotten he was there.

"...But by the time I leave this alleyway, you won't feel a thing." He turned and began to walk out of the alley.

"Wait!" Tori called out to the man, reaching her hand out as if she could catch him, but he continued towards the main street. "Please!" Tori continued, "Please! Who are you? How do you know me? How do you know about my cat?"

"Oh, don't worry about the cat," the man kept continuing down the alleyway, yet his voice sounded as if it came from right next to her. "He'll come back when his task is completed. I don't know how long that will take, so maybe you should just... forget about him for the time being." And the man turned the corner and disappeared.

Tori jumped to her feet and ran towards the main street. She looked wildly in the direction he turned, but there was no one there. The streets were empty.

Suddenly remembering, she looked down at her body. She rubbed her chest, which wasn't sore anymore. In fact, her whole body was perfectly fine in a way that it had never been all her life. No niggling headache at the back of her eyes, no sore muscles, itchy spots on the skin, and... her ankle was painless!

She looked down at her watch. It was just after half-past one in the morning. What was she doing here, out in the streets at this time of the night? She ran back to her apartment building.

***

The alarm went off and Tori shot out her hand automatically, hitting the snooze button with years' worth of muscle-memory accuracy as her eyes were still closed.

Heavy with sleep, she struggled to open her eyelids. She looked out towards the opened blinds of her bedroom window. It was an overcast day, but for some reason Tori felt like it was going to be a good day. She sat up in bed, stretched her arms, and started getting dressed for work.

As she was heading into the kitchen, she passed by her laundry room and did a second take. There was a big litter box next to her washing machine, and three boxes of cat food cans were stacked against the walls.

That's... strange. I haven't owned a cat since I was eleven. Why did I buy all this cat stuff again? Oh! That's right... it must be for the neighbour.

Tori quickly finished her breakfast cereal, brushed her teeth, and made multiple trips from her laundry to carry out all the cat food and the litter box to the front of her neighbour's door. While she was carrying one of the boxes of cat food, she thought it was strange that it was already opened, and some cans were missing.

Her neighbour, Mrs Wellington, was a nice 86 year old lady. After her husband passed away and her children moved overseas, she had no family left and spent her time caring for her three cats. Tori often stopped by when she left for work, occasionally passing Mrs Wellington some food as an excuse to check in on her health.

Tori knocked on the door and waited the usual several minutes for Mrs Wellington to shuffle to the front door. Upon seeing it was Tori, Mrs Wellington opened the door wide and smiled, "Oh, Victoria, it is so lovely to see you again. What, what's all this then?" She gestured to the cat food and litter box on the floor.

"Oh, yeah, I got these for you! I can't remember when I bought them, but the expiry isn't for a while anyway!" Tori said cheerfully, bending over to pick up the boxes and carry them into Mrs Wellington's apartment.

The old lady moved aside and stared at the litter box left near the front door.

"Oh, dear," she said softly. "Has something happened to Mister Snuffles, Victoria?"

Tori dropped the boxes of cat food onto Mrs Wellington's kitchen counter, and looked at her with a confused frown. What is she talking about? Mr Snuffles? Who's that? Is she going senile?

Tori gave a small chuckle, "What are you talking about? Anyway, I have to head to work, are you okay with unpacking the cans yourself? I'll bring in the litter box into the front door for you to put away, that okay?"

Mrs Wellington looked taken aback, but had no choice but to nod and wave goodbye as her neighbour brought in the litter box and closed the door behind her.

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Word count: 2541

Comment: This was my first submission to the weekly Reedsy Prompts contest, where you are given five prompts and can submit an original story between 1000-3000 words long. This story prompt was inspired by Haruki Murakami, whose novels often centre around a missing cat. He also has a lot of magical surrealism in his novels, and you often finish reading his stories with zero of your questions being answered. I wanted to emulate that in this short story, and had quite a lot of fun with it!

Also, if you would like to see my Reedsy profile and all my submissions, click here.