They gave me the character as an expert so you could be on the right path, but the subject for other groups didn’t really seem to correlate like that.

"Eternity's Consequence"

​

In this world of science and proof,

Reincarnation is now aloof.

No longer myth, no longer tale,

But fact, and governments now unveil

​

A new way of punishment, a new way of crime,

Carrying over from one life to the next time.

Eternity's consequence, a cycle unbroken,

For actions in this life, in the next, will be spoken.

​

No longer can we run and hide,

For our past lives will forever abide.

In the choices we make, in the paths we take,

Will determine the fate of our souls to make.

​

So let us be mindful, let us be true,

For eternity's consequence will come back to you.

In this life, and the next, and the one after that,

Our actions will forever echo and come back.

Okay the word weekly has to be a central part of the plot.

A weekly deadline

A weekly check in with your cia handler

A weekly trip to the confessional for a sinner

They left context out deliberately. Really wide open prompt.

How about a follow up prompt? Some notes on fleshing the story out? It has potential.

Start with describing the war. Why they were desperate enough to cut a deal.

Describing "It" and it's specific methods cruelty would be good.

Have it smile at Damian from a distance.

#Notes Left Under a Maple

"Nooo," Liz muttered Alex started crying. Half-brother was an appropriate term, she thought. Half the time, baby Alex seemed brotherly. The other half, like now, he seemed on a mission to misqueme her, to use a recent Word of the Day.

She heard Mom mumble something, and Steven get out of bed. They deserve to be woken up, Liz thought. They made him. As Alex's cries started to wane, Liz wondered if her mother would respond if she called out. She grabbed her phone and texted Mom.

"I'm awake too you know."

A ping sounded across the hall as the text was delivered. Alex let out a fresh cry. Liz sighed. It had to come to an end at some point, right?

She didn't get a response to the text.

First period was brutal. How one was supposed to understand math after being up half the night was a mystery to Liz. She found herself staring out the window instead.

"Having a moment of reflection, Elizabeth?"

She turned to see the instructor looking at her.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

When the dismissal bell rang, Liz glanced at the line of buses and frowned. She wasn't ready to go home yet, so she decided to walk. The route took her by a park, and Liz stopped to rest under the shade of a maple tree. As she sat down her hand brushed against something. Paper. Tucked under a rock at the base of the tree was a note. Curious Liz opened it.

"Sometimes I feel invisible."

Taking a pencil from her bag, she wrote a reply.

"Same. Even my mom left me on read."

She tucked the note back in place, then left.

She sat under the maple again the next day, lifting the rock and unfolding the paper.

"Dang, I wasn't expecting a response! I'm not going to leave you on read though. It's good to know someone feels like I do."

Liz paused, then wrote "Do you have siblings too? It was just mom and me until she remarried, and now there's a baby. It's like I'm an after thought."

She began to make daily stops at the tree. She learned her penpal was a middle child, with a high achieving older brother and an energetic toddler sister. "I get lost in the shuffle. I have some friends, but I'm more of an introvert. My family doesn't get that liking quieter activites doesn't mean I want to be overlooked," they wrote.

"I hear you." Liz wrote back. "My mom was a homebody, but Steven is an extrovert. Movie nights with Mom made me feel special. Now they've been replaced with dinner parties with neighbors and playdates for Alex. I don't need to always feel like this" - here she drew a stick figure - their smile shone brightly with colored pencil work - "but I'm feeling like this" - she drew another stick figure, black and white, head spinning.

There was rain the next day. Liz was concerned it would make her latest note illegible. Those worries seemed small as storm sirens went off, and teachers ushered students into the halls. Later, after the worst had passed, the news made its way through the school. High winds. The worst damage was to the nearby park. Liz's heart sank and without even thinking it through, she ran out of school to the park.

The maple lay across the grass, years of growth torn down in seconds. She heard footsteps and saw a boy, about her age, running to the tree as well. The two looked at the tree, then each other.

"I'm Liz," she said. "I wrote the notes."

"Drew. I did too."

"I guess....we could just tell each other what we were going to write?"

"We already left school, might as well hang out," Drew agreed. They sat near the ruined maple talking for an hour until four adults hurried towards them.

Mom, Steven and a couple Drew identified as his parents. Apparently someone assessing storm damage had seen them, and called the school who called the parents.

"I was so worried!" Mom said, hugging Liz. "The storm, then the school saying you ran off and - what's wrong dear?"

Liz had started crying. "You were worried for me?"

"Of course, Liz, how could I not be? I love you so much. I know it's been a lot of changes with Alex and Steven, but that doesn't change how much I love you!" Mom glanced at the tree and Drew. "Is this why you've taken to walking home?"

"Sort of," Liz admitted. "Can we have movie night soon and I'll tell you more?"

"Of course," Mom said. "For now, let's get home."

Liz gave Drew a wave. She might not have a neon bright smile, but her head was no longer spinning.

WC: 797

I stared at him for a moment. What truly horrified me was not what he said, but it was how he said it. So cold, so matter of fact, so consigned to the current state of affairs - either I was to rebuke it, or concede that nothing was to be done.

Yet, what could I do? What could I say? I had seen firsthand the devastation he wreaked - as much as it was brutal, it was also swift and efficient. Was it really that much better to have him on our side? Wouldn't it be better, for both their souls and for humanity, if someone just removed him from the equation all together?

Father, perhaps sensing my unease, then added: "He will stay on our side, Damian. In the few times I have spoken with him, he has had but three wants: women, weapons, and wealth. So long as he has each in ample amount, he won't care about trying to usurp us."

[Ahh there's something more here but I can't figure it out.]

Here: the rules are in the first paragraph beneath “how it works“

Just getting real creative as Plan B, for sure!

This was one of the best responses I've seen on here. I'm actually emotional. Those brave bees!

"These are winter boots!"

    Dark clouds roiled in the distance, hurling tendrils of lightning to the ground. The cool wind blew them towards the small, strange, idyllic town where Lauren found herself stranded. She'd gotten lost after her phone died and now she'd run out of gas. Stupid, she thought, I always fuck up. Everywhere she looked was a pristine rambler-style house with a small, lush yard. They came in two types, with a white picket fence, and without. A suburban neighborhood miles away from anything urban, surrounded by corn fields. She walked the pothole free streets and noticed the women wore shirtwaist dresses, the men suits.

    "Is there a gas station somewhere near?" she asked a man in a gray suit and dress hat. He looked at her black denim skinny jeans with disdain.

    He scoffed and said, "No."

    Lauren noticed that everyone looked at her as she passed. Several times she tried to ask the same question about the gas station and each time she got the same simple answer, "No." As she approached the town center she met eyes with an old man. He had slicked back hair and sharp teeth.

    "Storm's coming," he said with a smile. Lauren quickened her pace to get away from the man. As she passed an alley, someone pulled her in, putting their hand over her mouth.

    "Shh, I'm going to help you," he said and slowly removed his hand from her mouth and turned towards him. The alley was dark, but she could make out his striking yellow eyes and his diminutive stature made smaller by hunching over.

    "What is this--" she started to say, but he cut her off by shoving a book in her hands. He disappeared back into the alley and Lauren thought she could make out scales on the man's back as he left.

    She inspected the book. It was leather bound and felt old, ancient even. The musty scent of the pages was almost overwhelming. As she flipped through the book, she noticed everything was handwritten in almost illegible script. It detailed how an ancient species that inhabited the abandoned mines to the south had cursed the town. Frozen in time since 1950, it didn't take kindly to outsiders.

    As she read, it was growing dark and the thunder clouds had started to roll into town. The thunder boomed and reverberated off the buildings near her. It started to rain. Thick, heavy sheets of rain. It was almost pitch black now. Lightning flashed, illuminating the town square long enough to see a circle of people, maybe a hundred in number, holding hands under the biblical rain. They began to chant in an ancient sounding tongue. In the middle was a hunched, scaly, grotesque facsimile of a man. For a long moment, there was no lightning and Lauren stood in the silent darkness of the alley, hoping they wouldn't spot her.

    Lightning flashed again and she saw it. The entire crowd was twenty feet closer to her and moving now. Lauren recoiled in panic, running deeper into the alley until she was in the light of a back entrance lamp. Hopefully she could at least see when they were upon her. She breathed and remembered there was an inscription at the back of the book in a foreign language. She flipped to the back of the book as the first figure reached the edge of the light. She read the inscription:

Akhea, oh h'las me whro

Akhea, oh me'ras me whro

Me'ras, akhea mneas.

    Lightning struck the tree in the center of town square and it exploded into burnt embers. The figures in front of her fell to their knees, unable to keep their balance, and gasped for air. They looked up at her with confused expressions.

    "Where are we? Who are you?"

    Lauren breathed a sigh of relief, I don't fuck everything up.

Wow that is goooooood! Thank you!

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The Star was young, and it was dying. Iron--inert ash its great fusion core--had begun to form. Its fire stoked ever hotter, burning faster and faster, but the buildup only sped up.

Then the Star's core broke; it collapsed into something odd. A wave of incredible energy, an entire Galaxy's worth of light, wafted out in a massive dirge. The Star had died.

And something else was born.

As the great light and energy of the Star's death gradually dulled away, the strange Beast born its belly gradually ate at the remnants of its parent. But while the Star celebrated its presence in glorious light, the Beast simply drank and ate the stardust and energy of its birth.

In a backdrop of incredible light, the Beast did not shine at all.

[removed]

​

Torn heart..shredded soul,

rests in soothing waters of relief.

fleeing wound chasm of despair

balance lost restored to peace.

Hi u/SoloRich, this submission has been removed.

Less than 100 words: Word counts on prompts should not be requested for less than 100 words. This means no six-word stories, In words or less, etc.

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This action was not automated and this moderator is human. Time to go do human things.

Well done ! Didn’t want it to end. For “queen and colony” gave me Redwall vibes a little bit there. Sentient bees trying to survive all sorts of hazards would make a great story setting.

Holy cow. I think that might be the best prompt I've ever read. Really great job

For the glory of Phyrexia!

I miss her.

I miss her in the spring especially, when everything is in full bloom, from plums and cherries to daffodils and lilacs. Her favorite.

I miss her in the summer, whenever I see that little polka dot bikini hanging in the closet. I remember when she wore it to Hawaii and tucked a yellow flower behind her ear. It complemented the bikini perfectly.

I miss her in the fall, when the cosmos bloom. She planted them in the backyard. Whenever one bloomed in her favorite color, she'd be delighted. She'd insist on taking me out back and showing me each one. I'd kill for that interruption now.

I miss her in the winter, all curled up in her Minnesota Vikings jammies, watching the game on the couch and drinking hot chocolate. I never was a Vikings fan before.

I surround myself with her favorite color now. I planted a jacaranda tree up front in her honor. I make sure the lilac bush and those cosmos stay healthy. I use her water bottle, her headphones, her Vikings blanket, her mug. The amethyst necklace I gave her hangs from the rearview mirror.

I miss her so much.

This brings memories I didn't know were in me. Is this from something?

the concept of balance

Until your comment I just assumed it was.

upon the glisten dew damp brow

strain's signet lit of efforts effect.

As owner held their tongue

from screaming pain, the virtue of silent agony,

whilst child teethed sleepily on parents thumb.

And I’m crying because of a story about bees. This was incredible.