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What did it say?

You'd probably enjoy Bill Willingham's "Fables," especially the Telltale game "The Wolf Among Us," which can be played before reading the books (graphic-content heads-up).

The young man entered the temple slowly and reverently. Taking a deep inhale and letting the smell of the incense fill and surround him. He bowed and continued forward, each step measured and careful. He halted before the holy waters and performed the sacred rites, stopped again at the shrine and made his offerings. He was focused, being sure to avoid any glance or sacrilegious eye contact with her holiness- though he knew she watched him. Finally, having completed the necessary steps to be deemed righteous, he approached her alcove. He lithely went down onto both knees, sat on his heels and leaned forward- arms outstretched. A perfectly executed genuflection - she knew he must have practiced it many times.

"Arise, son of God, and tell me what you seek." He rose his arms and chest from the floor, but remained in the meditative posture, sitting on his heels staring at his knees- never daring to look within even an arms length of her feet.

"Your holiness- I seek to know what you may tell me of my destiny. I am aware that it may be difficult for me to decipher what you share, but I pray to learn whatever you will grant me."

"Ah, yes, child. I will grant you this insight. Close your eyes, and do not open them."

He obediently closed his eyes and held so still, she was sure he was holding his breath. She reached out from her altar and placed her palm on his head, holding it for a few moments before removing it and returning to her seat. He exhaled in relief and kept his eyes closed, waiting in deferential silence.

"Your destiny is...that you will die." The young man slumped a little and fought to keep his eyes closed. He remained silent, waiting for more... waiting... waiting....

"Is...is that it?" He finally blurted, rocking slightly with discomfort.

"Yes."

To his credit his eyes stayed closed as he badgered on,

"Wha- what? But...but everyone dies! Is my death significant? Do I die in battle?"

When there was no reply, his eyes finally opened, staring angrily at the place in front of his knees, his hands no longer delicately layered in his lap but now clenched.

"I did everything right!" He argued, "I have lived my whole life to be worthy enough to receive a destiny and to be noble enough to perform the sacred tasks and come to the temple of promise and discover what it would be!"

"And now you have discovered, young man, your destiny is to die."

He did not take this well.

"No!" He yelled, jumping up to stand, his eyes daring to look at her feet in insolence. "There must be more, you must tell me more!"

"I have told you all there is to tell." Her voice was scolding now, filling the temple with its disapproving echo. "If you wish for more explanation, perhaps ask yourself what it has cost you to make yourself so noble? What arrogance have you suffered upon others in your quest for worthiness?"

The young man blanched and reddened, and defied to raise his eyes to her knees. His once careful breath now huffing with ruined pride.

"I... I... " he stammered.

"And now you dare to gaze upon my holy person with blatant hubris?" Her voice boomed over his stuttering protests. When he did not apologize and prostrate himself on the floor in shame she spoke again, this time very softly.

"Look at me." He moved to back away and found he could not move his legs. From the knees down he was frozen in place. He knew suddenly that if he looked up at her the rest of his body would stiffen in suit.

"P-please!" He begged. It was too late. She reached out and grabbed his chin and forced his head to lift and his eyes to meet hers. His body petrified and he was still- shock and horror forever etched on his face. She pushed his chin away from her and his body teetered and fell- smashing into dust on the temple floor.

"I told him it was his destiny." She said to herself, clapping the dust from her hands, and turning to go see what he had left on the shrine for her.

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To most foreigners, Toledo is a much sought-after place to live the American Dream. Beneath the hustle and bustle of the city, there lies the designated Urban Fantasy Districts, where all manner of supernatural creatures live.

Toledo Untold Stories is a storytelling project to help humans and supernaturals share their stories of the challenges they face when they cross the line established by the Masquerade.

A man struggles to adopt a nocturnal lifestyle for his vampire girlfriend. A woman is heartbroken to lock up her werewolf fiancee every full moon. A child says goodbye to their mermaid friend because the river is too polluted. These are their untold stories.

"For me, falling in love with Carmilla quite literally turned my life upside down. I had to quit my cushy job and pick up a lower pay as a night shift duty guard so we could actually have time together. Otherwise, I will be working when she is asleep and vice versa! The nocturnal life is a chaotic mess for my biological clock and sometimes I wonder if my sanity was worth giving up for the love of my life. Sometimes I wonder if she will remember everything we did together when she inevitably outlives me..."

• Richard, a 32-year-old former finance manager who now works as a night shift security guard while dating Carmilla, 151-year-old Countess of Karnstein.

"My female friends tell me of their monthly troubles, but my trouble is double! My 2nd trouble is locking up my dear George every full moon. He's such a sweet, gentle man, but his wolf side is an absolute horror he cannot control! What did he do to deserve this? He didn't ask to be turned! All he asked was to be chained and thrown into our basement every full moon so he wouldn't hurt anyone. Before this mess, he wouldn't even hurt a fly! I haven't even told my parents my fiancee was bitten and turned into a werewolf...would they accept him now? I don't know..."

• Lisa (not her real name), an accountant whose high school sweetheart was bitten and converted into a werewolf just a year ago.

"I loved swimming, as a kid, I used to go down to the Smolbrok River because its waters and surroundings were beautiful. It was there that I met my best friend Ariel. She was a lovely mermaid who always gifted me with wonders from the river after our weekly swim together. My last swim with her was decades ago...before Matlan Pharmaceuticals moved in and their laboratories contaminated the rivers. It was so sudden when Ariel just blurted out that this would be our last swim. It still feels like yesterday sometimes...I've posted a few photos we've taken together online, please help me find my childhood best friend..."

• Benji, a 45-year-old fisherman, recounting a tale of lost innocence and friendship as Big Pharma ruined the once pristine waters of SmolBrok.

Over the last few years, we've gathered captivating stories that otherwise would not make news headlines from our diverse community of star-crossed friends and lovers, mortals and supernaturals.

Do you have an untold story to share with us?

visceral shudder. Nice work.

A man is sitting in a diner, onto his third cup of coffee. As he takes a sip, a woman joins him in the booth. “Good morning, Jerry. Wow, you look horrible. You been sleeping well?”

“No, Elaine. I’m supposed to be asleep right now. I’m been seeing a vampire.”

“Ohhh.” Elaine covers her mouth with the crook of her elbow. “Does she vant to suck your blood?”

“I—“ Jerry yawns. “You know, that’s a conversation we need to have.”

“Necking went out of style in the 50’s.”

“Plus, my doctor says my blood pressure is high. If she bites in, what if she can’t stop? What if it’s like chomping into a firehose?”

Elaine was about to squirt some ketchup onto her plate, but decides not to.

“So, you want some tickets to my show tomorrow? I’ve got some comps left.”

“Nope, can’t do it.”

“What? Why not? I’ve got a great bit about those centaurs they discovered in Central Park.”

“Full moon, Jerry.”

“Oh, you don’t mean…”

“Yup. He’s a werewolf. I’ve got to go all the way down to Gowanus to get some titanium for the cage he ordered.”

The door bell rings as another patron enters. Dripping wet, he dashes clumsily toward the table, nearly bumping into the hostess on the way. No sooner than he sits down, he starts talking. “You know, you can’t take titanium on the subway.”

Elaine sighs loudly. “Come on, Kramer. Are there magnet people now?”

“They’re coming. I’ve got it marked on my calendar. Exactly three months from now.”

“Great, another full moon.”

“Say, Kramer,” says Jerry, “I couldn’t help but notice there’s a puddle coming from your general vicinity.” Elaine slides down into the corner.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t drink it. Apparently the East River is ‘unclean’ and ‘toxic to my people’. I drank it growing up and I turned out just fine!”

“That’s subjective,” Jerry speaks into his now-empty mug.

“She’s thinking about moving, Jerry!”

“I’ll get her the number for Two Guys and a Submarine.”

“Oh, you never liked her.”

“She claps by slapping her fin on the floor!”

Elaine nods. “I thought she was just big-clapping.”

“It’s distracting during a show! I don’t need big-clapping! I need lots of normal-clapping! Mermaids have arms. Don’t use your sea legs, use your land hands!”

“How do people clap at your East River shows? With their water legs!”

“I hated that venue. My dry cleaner can’t get the ocean smell out of my good suit.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Jerry. I think she’s the one for me. We just met, only kissed once, but I think I’m in love!”

A balding overweight man has strolled up to the table. He sits down next to Jerry. “Good to hear!”

Kramer nods, splashing water on George’s glasses. He takes them off and wipes it on his wrinkled shirt. “So, I’ve always wondered. How do you two… you know…?” George puts on his glasses and makes a two-handed gesture.

“Oh, that’s a good question,” says Elaine. “I mean, she’s got the lady half on top.”

Kramer suddenly looks like he’s seen a ghost, and not the one sitting at the counter. “I… um… I… have to be somewhere.” He stumbles to his feet, and tries to run. He flails and falls into his puddle, knocking down the waitress, who drops Jerry’s entree onto Kramer.

“That was the catch of the day!”

Kramer screams when he sees the fish that’s fallen onto his face. “Her cousin! Murderers!”

“You're wound up, Kramer,” says Jerry. “Grab a bottle of wine and spend an evening under the sea with your girlfriend.”

Kramer suddenly remembers why he stood up, and drops the fish and runs. The busboy comes over with a mop. Dejected, Jerry orders yet another coffee.

“So, George, how are—”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Dumped by a troll, Jerry! Dumped by a literal troll, and not the cute Troll doll kind, either.”

“That’s rough, George,” Elaine says. “There’s a goblin at my work who just got out of a relationship. She’s cute… I mean, for a goblin.”

He shakes his head. “Goblins… yeah, right. I bring a goblin to those awful Sunday dinners, and my parents would stop inviting… me…” George suddenly gets a brilliant idea. “What’s her number?”

Elaine fishes around in her purse, while Jerry sighs and fills his coffee with sugar. He snickers. “Bring home a hobgoblin and they might disown you.”

George rolls his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. There’s no such thing as hobgoblins.”

My man I hope you're high right now... or drunk at least. If not consult a shrink.

Homie did you see the prompt

I really like this one! Well done, thank you for posting.

silliest shit i ever read

That is the plan. I'm going to start it off with small encounters with rampant maintenance drones and security turrets. Then cap off the ship with a boss battle against a combat android just before they get access to the bridge. Then boom, drop the plot in their lap and give them the freedom of where to go from there.

I enjoyed Pandorum quite a bit. The whole twist of the colony ship having crashed on the planet centuries before the start of the movie was wild.

Aye, it would be a fun adventure.

Migel is a lil shit that's what

What the fuck

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

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A touch of "humans are weird in some way" can make for interesting stories but HFY has a weird obsession with people eating chilli as some kind of intergalactic flex.

It can be two things. But also, Shower Thoughts don't normally result in lots of fun stories to read, whereas writing prompts do

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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Woof. Add in some encounters and slowly escalating life-or-death situations and you've got yourself a survival-horror campaign.

Actually, have you seen "Pandorum" (2009)? That movie got me pretty hard and now that I think about it that would be an amazing tabletop.

Beautiful!

This seems more like a showerthought than a prompt.