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It’s a shame you came to this prompt late. This one fits the bill the absolute best. Well done!

I'm getting Mickey Blue Eyes vibes, nicely done

The writing prompt said Underworld (capitalised) and that it was an established universe. I wasn’t sure what they were referring to so I thought I might as well chuck in some vampires and werewolves. Hybrid would be some monster mix. Also the hairy problems.

“Hey, remember what that drunk guy in the tavern was shouting about”

“What are you on about?”

Zephaniah and Loriel had been part of a team assembled to stop some wizard gone rogue. it was a fairly common occurrence, once you found out how to control reality around you, it was easy to see those who couldn’t as being “lesser”. Normally this wasn’t much of a problem as a knife to the throat tends to kill anyone pretty quickly. However, for this particular mission the adventures guild neglected to mention a key component.

Namely that this rogue wizard in question was a necromancer

“Well, he was screaming about how one of the gods had summoned a hero to save the world or something”

“Sounds to me more like he just had too much dwarves whiskey”

The party had managed to get through most of the undead guarding the wizards lair with relative ease. It was when they got inside that the necromancer sent the actually tough undead after them.

They had fought on and on, but where getting whittled down one by one, first their wizard passed out after casting one too many spells without a mana potion, then a zombie brute had sent their fighter sprawling with a punch in the jaw. Eventually the only ones left standing where Zephaniah the parties thief, and Loriel the parties ranger, neither of whom stood a chance against the undead swarm.

And then the bear showed up

“Well, I look at this fella and I just think…”

“…no, no way, I refuse”

The bear in question seemingly showed up out of nowhere and began tearing through the undead like they where made of paper. The necromancer hurled spell after spell at the creature in an attempt to stop it. This proved futile as the beast simply either shrugged off the attacks, or in a few cases, caught the spells mid air and seems to, for lack of a better term, eat them.

That was only part of what made the beast truly strange though.

“I mean, look at it”

“Just because it can shrug off spell’s doesn’t mean that is divine intervention”

Magic is a complicated thing. Sure anyone can theoretically cast a spell, but doing so takes time, skill, precision. It takes about a year of practice before one is even able to cast a basic fireball, mages spend decades at college’s trying to master the arcane arts.

And here the bear was, shooting out fireballs with the same effort it took one to scratch their nose.

“Well then you explain how it’s doing any of this”

“I-I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for-“

The bear let out a mighty roar, punishing back the undead surrounding it. Then, it leapt to the skies, or rather the roof, flying above the hordes of zombies and towards the necromancer, who’s head it took off with one clean paw strike. With their master dead, the zombies began to fall, the arcane magics animating them no longer functioning.

The bear let out another roar, this one in triumph over its foe.

“What was that about rational explanations?”

“…we gotta get this thing to a priest”

“Fine, but you’re the one who’s gonna convince it to come along”

Lots of good laughs. Very interesting and effective twist. I would love to see this continued.

Bravo.

Darren scowled down at the Ouija board, as the planchette glided over its surface of its own accord.

"Y...O...okay, yeah, I get it. Very funny. You're hilarious." he said, drily. Given that the previous four letters indicated by the polished wooden arrow had been c, f, k, and u -- though not in that order -- he felt confident that he understood the message.

Despite this, the spirit controlling the planchette felt the need to make it stand on edge, and then bob up and down.

"And now you're flipping me off with the planchette. Nice." Darren said, rolling his eyes. He threw up his hands in consternation. "You know what? Fine. Have fun haunting a parking lot in six months, asshole."

Darren began to stand up from the table where the Ouija board sat, but was startled by the planchette suddenly clattering back down onto the board. It then began rapidly circling the question mark printed just below the array of letters.

Darren smirked. That had finally gotten his spectral roommate's attention, it seemed. He settled back into his seat.

"Oh so now you give a shit, huh?" he quipped.

The planchette slid over to "YES".

"Well it's true: see, the previous owner of our building was very community-minded. His will included all kinds of stipulations his heirs had to abide by to inherit it." Darren explained. "They weren't allowed to sell the building as long as there were renters living here, and they weren't allowed to raise the rent more than the rate of inflation."

He sighed. "But the place is still a dump, even if it's cheap, since the new owners aren't exactly incentivized to invest in it. I'm the last one here, and as it stands I can't afford to pay rent anymore. If I go, this place will be sold to some developer and torn down inside a week." Darren gestured to the table. "That's why I decided to talk to you. I figured if you're gonna make footstep sounds at night, stack up my chairs, and slam my cupboards, maybe you could at least use your spooky ghost powers to help me with my cash flow problem, while you're at it. Otherwise, we're both homeless."

Darren followed the planchette with his eyes, as it began to move again. "H...O....W...how? I don't know how! You're the ghost, you know what you can do better than I do. Is there like...some buried treasure you know about? A bank account in your name, that maybe no one ever claimed?"

"NO," came the reply, via planchette.

"Well then, I don't know, what would you suggest? Any ideas? G...E...T...A...J...O...B--pff, yeah, okay boomer, like I haven't tried that already! It's a tough economy right now, for people in my line of work. L...E...A...R...N...T...O...C--I know how to code, alright? It's not that simple!"

An awkward silence hung in the room for a moment. And then, the planchette began to move again.

"W...E...S...H...." Darren began reading, then frowned as he finished. "We should talk? We're already talking."

"I...N...in person? Uh, how would that work? You're a ghost."

Darren frowned, as the planchette slid over to rest under the word "NO." It rose into the air as it did before, and Darren scowled again, taking it as another phantom middle finger. Then he jumped out of his chair in surprise as a small man appeared standing on the chair opposite him, holding the planchette between a stubby thumb and forefinger.

The man looked old and ragged, with a long red beard streaked with white, that hung all the way down to the knees of his patched and stained green trousers.

"Truth be told, boyo," the old man said, in a high-pitched lilting accent. "I've been having me own 'cash flow problems' of a sort, for nigh on a century now."

As Darren gaped at the little old man in amazement, a sly grin spread across the strange creature's wrinkled face, "Mayhaps I can be after helpin' ye with your problem..."

The strange little man paused and waved his hand mystically. A miniature rainbow suddenly arched over the table where the Ouija board lay, and a little black cauldron appeared at its end -- empty, except for some dust and cobwebs.

"...if ye can be helping me with mine, in turn." the old man finished.

... by the end ?

No problem.

Cool. I can live with that. Thnx again!

I’m not an expert but I like this story’s style. The dialogue is very casual, like the characters know it’s meant to be a parody. It’s pretty good to me.

Thnx!

Can you offer any specific critique? I've been writing here and there for some years now but have rarely had the opportunity for someone to read my work and so have had little input from others.

I'm especially worried about my dialogue. When I read others' dialogue all too often I find it to be stiff and unrealistic. I worry that mine falls into the same traps and I wonder how to avoid them.

“Are there any spirits with me in this room right now?”

The wooden planchette shook slightly underneath Cade’s fingers, slowly moved across the alphabet carved on the Ouija board, pointing at three letters which spelled “YES”.

“Okay, good… It’s nearing the end of the month, and you know what that means.”

The planchette sit still.

“You need to hand over your share. You’re dead, but that doesn’t mean you can be a freeloader.”

The planchette on the Ouija board spells out again, a clearly panic “FUCK”.

Cade gave out an audible sigh, “No, the landlord do not accept any payment other than cash. Raiden may be into shady sex, but he isn't,” they stopped for a second, giggled a bit, “Heh, shady sex.”

Another message is given to Cade, “GIVE THREE DAYS.”

“Three days? You said the same thing three days ago”, Cade frowned in dismay, “Did you forget again?”

“NO CASH NOW.”

“No cash? The heck are you doing now?”

“SHHH.”

Cade rolled their eyes, “Well, wish I could ‘shhh’ my landlord as well when he’s pestering at the door, but I’m in no position to do that.”

“WILL PAY.”

“… Alright, but you gotta bring me the real money.”

“REAL MONEY?”

“Yes. Real human’s cash, as in the Euro bills, not the paper money you guys use down there.”

“RIGHT.”

Cade rubbed their eyes with the fabric on their shoulder, both hands not letting go of the planchette, “I will be waiting, but hurry up. I’m afraid if we're late again the old man is gonna kick us out for real.”

“WILL PAY”, the Ouija board repeated to assure them, “WILL PAY.”

“I will take your words, for now.”

"I'm better than them all you know" I said flatly. "Far better." Death stared at me with those lifeless eyes, two pits that seemed to convey a hollow sense of curiosity. "So was I" Death seemed to whisper. "Fischer, Kasparov, Carlson, Morphy, they all challenged me. None came close." I smirked at that. "You don't understand. I am far beyond them, the best machines of this world can only bring me to a draw. I can confidently say there has never been a better chess player than I." Death seemed to look beyond me, unmoving and unnaturally still. It presented both hands, closed around opposing colored kings in each. "Choose." It whispered. A whisper that seemed to echo. The black voids you would call it's eyes continued to look past me. It was clear this entity was unthreatened, seemingly indifferent to the challenge I posed to it. That shouldn't have bothered me, but it did.

Chess was boring to me now. No human could defeat me, and those machines, those soulless things; I would only play them for the spectacle and the money. There was no heart in those, I could see the stalemates coming far in advance. Hollow games and hollow prizes. The thrill of the game had left me decades ago. I just didn't know how to do anything else. It was hell, playing the game I loved against morons and robots. Nobody could see chess the way I did, I could no longer lose, and nobody could truly challenge me.

This though, this was different. A game for my life, against Death itself? Surely nobody had ever beaten Death. My heart was pounding. I was excited and I could barely contain it. The thrill, oh how I missed it. In an instant I felt it all. My love for the game, my passion. It surged through me, I wanted to discuss theory, I wanted to study it's previous games. I was fixated, I wanted to know everything. Instead, I reached for it's left hand. It's bony fingers unfurled and revealed the white king to me. Death chuckled, a joyless erratic chuckle that threatened to strike fear into my heart. Nervously I began to sweat, but I held my composure as the white pieces materialized in front of me. Bone, bone pieces on a painted bone board. I almost froze, it hit me hard that this was my last game. I knew I should play something safe, one of my personal openings the rest of humanity wouldn't even understand. Logic lost to my heart though, which wanted to play something exciting.

"The Danish gambit." Death said monotonously. It spoke again, this time with more than a hint of contempt. "You cocky fool." I continued to play, growing ever more confident, Death's moves were instant. Mine should have been too, but I was savoring this. I saw everything, and despite my risky attack we were nearly equal.

Too quickly we reached the endgame, and for a moment Death paused. Death saw it, a moment before I did, but I saw it too. "This will be a draw." Death declared. Still unmoving, unbreathing. As still as a statue and, seemingly, just as unfeeling. "Is that a first?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Yes."  Death whispered. For too long it seemed to be in disbelief, there was something in it's posture; the way it was now looking down at the board. My ego inflated inside of me. I was resigned to my fate initially, I just wanted to be competitive, but I could do better. I had more to offer, did Death?

"Again?" I asked proudly, unwilling to hide my smirk. "Again." Death affirmed. Black this time, and for my defense I played something more my style. I played like a machine, seemingly nonsensical and wrong until it all came together. This was far beyond human theory, only I and a handful of artificial intelligences could play at this level. It never came together though. Death kept up, seeing everything I did. Death looked up at me, staring through my eyes and into my soul. Another draw, a frustrating one. That was my best, I knew it deep down. Were we evenly matched? Was Death humoring me?

"Again." Death said as the pieces reset. White this time, but it didn't matter. We found another stalemate within 47 seconds. 663 games later Death seemed to grow bored. 996 games later I finally grew bored. On game number 1000 I played white, and I blundered on move one. Death mirrored my mistake and, for the first time in weeks, spoke to me directly. "Don't you dare run from this." Anger seemed to swell from within the creature, an anger that permeated the air around us. Visions of endured agony and potential suffering flashed through my mind. My skin began to burn yet my teeth began to clatter. I could feel the enigmatic creature's obsession, but more than that I could feel it's rage; I could taste it. A rage that tasted of blood, dust, and ash. My heart dropped. My hand shook as I reached for the next piece, but Death requested this game be declared a draw; I nodded meekly. I was terrified. I was trapped. Death would accept nothing but my best, I could sense it. It craved a conclusion, but only an honorable one. Death didn't need to say anything more, I knew it better than I knew anything else. Death needed to know who was better. With that knowledge, I was too frightened to lose more convincingly.

We played on for eternity, in my own personal hell. Too terrified to lose, but not good enough to win.

It’s an interesting story. I hope you continue writing more.

This is great! You captured the emotions on Meiling perfectly. I've met people just like her and I read it in their voice.

By the time ʻOumuamua was already gone, humanity had discovered the true nature of the extrasolar object. Tongue in cheek arguments that it was an extraterrestrial probe, sent by some far off civilization, were proven correct- in part, by signals left in it's wake, repeating in binary, every three point one four minutes, on a wavelength so faint it took ARCJAT, a satellite radio telescope launched in 2040, to pick it up.

The asteroid was a casing for an extraterrestrial craft, drifting for billions and billions of years, with an initial trajectory targeting where Earth was some 45 million years ago, following the purge of competitive life 66 million years ago. The craft had been damaged somehow during it's long travel, and whatever force which motivated it's trajectory had flubbed the math at some point because of it, causing the craft to miss Earth by few houses, cosmically speaking, and was forced by gravity to shoot past our system and Oort cloud.

We will never know what the extraterrestrials look like, but Sir Isaac Newton claimed another victory for Earth, it seemed.

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Very nice. ^^

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This is good. I think it could do with a bit more "show don't tell" but it's a solid outline.

Thanks! :) I appreciate you taking the time to read it

Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

How the shit does this even happen? Fml.

I watched motionlessly, the blood pouring from my face as the driver of our Isekai truck swerved away from the kid. The kid who was supposed to become a great warrior and help save an entire kingdom from complete decimation.

“Dude, what are you gonna do? There’s no way we can use a grizzly and we can’t get authorization for another truck,” I said.

“We get a druid.”

“¿Qué?” I was beyond baffled.

“I said we get a druid.”

“Never mind the fact that the nearest druid is thousands of miles to the West and centuries earlier how the hell is a druid going to help?”

“They can cast an awaking spell on the bear.”

Marty looked at me like a toddler who just learned how to use a spoon. “Dude. This isn’t fucking Forgotten Realms it’s Edo Japan. There’s no fucking magic!”

“I know, I know. But we can still make it work. We just go to some fantasy world, grab a druid, bring him to the grizzly and have him awaken it.” That same silly grin on his face.

“And how do you suppose we get the druid there?”

He literally pointed into the air and said “We use a wizard!”

I hung my head in dismay. “So we just find a wizard, convince him to transport a druid between universes and have the druid awaken a seventeen-hundred pound grizzly then proceed to have the grizzly save the kingdom. Sounds simple enough. You just forgot one simple detail. What the actual fuck is an awakened grizzly bear doing in Edo Japan?”

“Shit. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“That’s the thing you hadn’t thought about? Seriously?”

“Okay, maybe we can—“

“Shut the fuck up for a minute. Let me think.” Marty looked a little hurt but I just ignored him. I paced the room for a few minutes trying to figure out how to get around his fuck up. I told him we should just wait until the kid flies to San Francisco. The plane was going to crash. It even would have been less paperwork since there wasn’t going to be any evidence of bodies, much less survivors. There were way too many variables while he was still in Alaska. Our Isekai truck was a 16-wheeler on an icy highway and that alone didn’t guarantee the kid would be hit. That kind of transport vehicle (no pun intended) is usually reserved for frivolous stories like a great-great-great-neice meeting her peasant aunt. Stories with no consequence. Usually when someone hits the wrong target you can still manage to make due with them. Generations removed it’s usually easy enough to convince poor old Aunt Elsie that she never had any nieces and this is actually her nephew. But shit man… A grizzly? I’ve seen some fuck ups before but this one takes the cake.

Then it hit me.

“We can use a wizard.”

“Wait… Aren’t you the one who just told me this isn’t a table-top game?”

“Yeah, but a powerful enough wizard can transport someone between any universes.”

“And where are we going to find a wizard that powerful?”

“Wait. You’re the one who had the wizard idea to begin with. You didn’t think about that?”

“Well…”

“Nevermind. I think I know just the guy.” I gave him a somewhat sinister grin.

A look of recognition slowly formed on his face. “Dude. He’ll fucking kill you.”

“Yeah and so will our manager.” Neither one of us was joking. “We don’t have a choice.”

It’s maybe a bit cliché? I like the idea of going meta though.

This is the first time I’ve ever written for a prompt. Please let me know what you think.