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lavenderspark) wrote2021-06-24 01:30 pm
lavenderspark) wrote2021-06-24 01:30 pm
Entry tags:
Writing Prompt
Wrote a short story yesterday as well. Did some editing on it today, it feels awkward to me, but I think a lot of it is because it's written in second person and I'm not used to it, it's also not my preferred reading style, but I felt it worked best with the prompt. (I suppose I could've done first person, but I'm worse at that than I am second person lol)
The Prompt:
You're being chased by a vampire through the city, one hour before sunrise. You see a homeless person's tent and dive in. You now have to convince the bewildered person inside, for one hour, to ignore the gorgeous, seductive vampire on the other side of the flaps trying to gain an invitation.
Empty, dilapidated warehouses blur by as you run. At the risk of tripping, you glance behind you, looking for your pursuer.
"Shit," you mutter under your breath, pushing your feet to go faster.
His pale skin practically glows in the moonlight, dark hair blowing in the breeze as he casually lopes toward you. He smiles as you stare at the patch of exposed skin revealed by the two undone buttons of his shirt.
Gulping, you turn your head back around, barely missing the pile of debris in front of you. Your heart rate spikes as you catch the sound of his laughter on the wind. Fighting back tears, you go around the debris and see a tent set up in the grassy area just beyond the road you're on.
A spark of hope flickers in your chest, unlike the warehouses, the tent appears to be occupied.
You push your legs into a final burst of speed, heading for the dome of light. Your legs give out as you reach the tent, you land in a crumpled heap in front of the closed flap. Your fingers fumble for the zipper, hoping it isn't locked. Tears of relief stream down your cheeks as the zipper moves. You open it far enough to drag your aching body inside, quickly zipping it shut.
As you're trying to collect yourself, you feel something pressed into your back.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my tent?" A raspy voice demands.
"I'm sorry," you gasp, your hands flying up to show they're empty. "I don't want to hurt you. There's a m--" you stop, that's not a man out there. "Someone is chasing me."
"So you led them here?!" The object at your back presses harder, you can feel the sharp point of a knife.
"Please. He can't get us in here," you plead, turning your head to face the person behind you.
"I'm homeless, not stupid. This is a tent, you got in easily enough."
You can hear muffled noises outside, footsteps coming closer.
"Please, just trust me," you whisper. "Just until sunrise."
The knife at your back wavers, "Sunrise? What's that got to do with anything? Who are you? Who is chasing you?"
You turn around to face the man behind you. His reddish hair is mussed from sleep, but his dark blue eyes are sharp with awareness and intelligence. Before you can answer, a deep melodious voice calls from outside.
"I know you're in there. Let me in and we all can enjoy what's left of the glorious night."
You see shock and possibly recognition flicker across the man's face before his eyes narrow and his lips form a hard line. You watch as he rifles through his things. You gasp as he pulls a large wooden stake from a bag. You sense this is no ordinary stake, the air around it feels charged some how.
The man smiles gently, "It's spelled. It will always find the heart and hold the demon in place until the sun rises."
Your eyes widen, skipping from the stake to the man and back again. You're wondering whose tent you stumbled into as he maneuvers past you to the tent flap.
"No!" You shout.
"It's all right," he says, giving a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder. "Stay here, don't leave this tent until the sun rises, no matter what you hear." He turns to the tent flap, slowly unzipping the opening, "How about I come to you Dracula," he calls as he steps out, closing the flap behind him.
"Professor? My, what a surprise to see you here." The music is gone from his voice, replaced by a tone so cold, you can feel it in your bones.
Confused and terrified, you look around the tent, searching for clues to what exactly you've gotten yourself into. There are books and papers stacked neatly on one side of the tent. You flip through them, trying to block out the sounds of fighting outside. The loose pages are mostly maps, schematics for things that might be weapons, but not any you recognize, and things that could be recipes, but are probably spells. The books all seem to be historical accounts of strange happenings.
You can hear the fighting continue outside the tent. Worried, you find the knife that was pressed against your back earlier, holding it tightly in your fist. Between blows, you catch snippets of conversation.
"How--" a grunt, "exactly did you end up here, Professor?"
"I was--" a groan, "cursed to follow you until I end you."
Your need to find out who this man is, increases. As you shuffle around the tent, you spot a small notebook near the man's pillow. You pick it up and open it to the first page. Written in fading ink, you read 'Journal of Abraham Van Helsing.' Awestruck, you flip through the entries, skimming the words. You see details of previous encounters with Dracula and others like him.
You wouldn't have believed any of it if you hadn't met 'Drake' at the bar earlier. He bought you a drink and offered to take you some place nicer. You, of course said you would be happy to follow in your own vehicle, but as soon as you got outside, he pressed you against the building.
At first it was exciting, a thrill ran down your back as he nuzzled along your neck. But then you caught a glimpse of his fangs and your body turned cold with fear. You managed to get away, thanks to a couple exiting the bar, running until you wound up here.
"This ends here Dracula." You hear Van Helsing say as he grunts with effort. You hear a sickening crack as if a bone was breaking, followed by Dracula's soft laughter.
"Did you think a simple stake would work, old friend?"
"No, I did not. This stake was made specifically for you, old fiend."
The sky starts to lighten and you can make out shadows against the tent. One standing with a stake protruding from his chest, the other moves to a sitting position. The one standing twitches, as if trying to move against a heavy force. You hear Van Helsing chuckle.
"That won't do you any good, I spelled that stake myself. You just settle down and enjoy the sunrise with me one last time."
You hear grunts of exertion and see violent flinches of attempted movement from Dracula's shadow, both become more frantic the brighter the sky becomes. While you wait for the sun to be high in the sky, you flip the journal to the last entry. The date on the entry is over a hundred years ago.
"I have been cursed to follow him for all eternity. Always appearing where he does, but never knowing his location. I will not rest until I end him."
As the sky fully brightens, you hear an anguished roar and see a blinding flash of light followed by silence. Stunned, you see both shadows have disappeared from the side of the tent. You clutch the knife as you slowly open the flap, unsure of what you'll find. Blinking in the bright sunlight, you look around. You see a pile of ash, slowly blowing away on the breeze.
There is no sign of Van Helsing.
I'm not sure it's exactly what the prompt was looking for, but that's what came out lol. Any comments or concrit are welcome!
The Prompt:
You're being chased by a vampire through the city, one hour before sunrise. You see a homeless person's tent and dive in. You now have to convince the bewildered person inside, for one hour, to ignore the gorgeous, seductive vampire on the other side of the flaps trying to gain an invitation.
Empty, dilapidated warehouses blur by as you run. At the risk of tripping, you glance behind you, looking for your pursuer.
"Shit," you mutter under your breath, pushing your feet to go faster.
His pale skin practically glows in the moonlight, dark hair blowing in the breeze as he casually lopes toward you. He smiles as you stare at the patch of exposed skin revealed by the two undone buttons of his shirt.
Gulping, you turn your head back around, barely missing the pile of debris in front of you. Your heart rate spikes as you catch the sound of his laughter on the wind. Fighting back tears, you go around the debris and see a tent set up in the grassy area just beyond the road you're on.
A spark of hope flickers in your chest, unlike the warehouses, the tent appears to be occupied.
You push your legs into a final burst of speed, heading for the dome of light. Your legs give out as you reach the tent, you land in a crumpled heap in front of the closed flap. Your fingers fumble for the zipper, hoping it isn't locked. Tears of relief stream down your cheeks as the zipper moves. You open it far enough to drag your aching body inside, quickly zipping it shut.
As you're trying to collect yourself, you feel something pressed into your back.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my tent?" A raspy voice demands.
"I'm sorry," you gasp, your hands flying up to show they're empty. "I don't want to hurt you. There's a m--" you stop, that's not a man out there. "Someone is chasing me."
"So you led them here?!" The object at your back presses harder, you can feel the sharp point of a knife.
"Please. He can't get us in here," you plead, turning your head to face the person behind you.
"I'm homeless, not stupid. This is a tent, you got in easily enough."
You can hear muffled noises outside, footsteps coming closer.
"Please, just trust me," you whisper. "Just until sunrise."
The knife at your back wavers, "Sunrise? What's that got to do with anything? Who are you? Who is chasing you?"
You turn around to face the man behind you. His reddish hair is mussed from sleep, but his dark blue eyes are sharp with awareness and intelligence. Before you can answer, a deep melodious voice calls from outside.
"I know you're in there. Let me in and we all can enjoy what's left of the glorious night."
You see shock and possibly recognition flicker across the man's face before his eyes narrow and his lips form a hard line. You watch as he rifles through his things. You gasp as he pulls a large wooden stake from a bag. You sense this is no ordinary stake, the air around it feels charged some how.
The man smiles gently, "It's spelled. It will always find the heart and hold the demon in place until the sun rises."
Your eyes widen, skipping from the stake to the man and back again. You're wondering whose tent you stumbled into as he maneuvers past you to the tent flap.
"No!" You shout.
"It's all right," he says, giving a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder. "Stay here, don't leave this tent until the sun rises, no matter what you hear." He turns to the tent flap, slowly unzipping the opening, "How about I come to you Dracula," he calls as he steps out, closing the flap behind him.
"Professor? My, what a surprise to see you here." The music is gone from his voice, replaced by a tone so cold, you can feel it in your bones.
Confused and terrified, you look around the tent, searching for clues to what exactly you've gotten yourself into. There are books and papers stacked neatly on one side of the tent. You flip through them, trying to block out the sounds of fighting outside. The loose pages are mostly maps, schematics for things that might be weapons, but not any you recognize, and things that could be recipes, but are probably spells. The books all seem to be historical accounts of strange happenings.
You can hear the fighting continue outside the tent. Worried, you find the knife that was pressed against your back earlier, holding it tightly in your fist. Between blows, you catch snippets of conversation.
"How--" a grunt, "exactly did you end up here, Professor?"
"I was--" a groan, "cursed to follow you until I end you."
Your need to find out who this man is, increases. As you shuffle around the tent, you spot a small notebook near the man's pillow. You pick it up and open it to the first page. Written in fading ink, you read 'Journal of Abraham Van Helsing.' Awestruck, you flip through the entries, skimming the words. You see details of previous encounters with Dracula and others like him.
You wouldn't have believed any of it if you hadn't met 'Drake' at the bar earlier. He bought you a drink and offered to take you some place nicer. You, of course said you would be happy to follow in your own vehicle, but as soon as you got outside, he pressed you against the building.
At first it was exciting, a thrill ran down your back as he nuzzled along your neck. But then you caught a glimpse of his fangs and your body turned cold with fear. You managed to get away, thanks to a couple exiting the bar, running until you wound up here.
"This ends here Dracula." You hear Van Helsing say as he grunts with effort. You hear a sickening crack as if a bone was breaking, followed by Dracula's soft laughter.
"Did you think a simple stake would work, old friend?"
"No, I did not. This stake was made specifically for you, old fiend."
The sky starts to lighten and you can make out shadows against the tent. One standing with a stake protruding from his chest, the other moves to a sitting position. The one standing twitches, as if trying to move against a heavy force. You hear Van Helsing chuckle.
"That won't do you any good, I spelled that stake myself. You just settle down and enjoy the sunrise with me one last time."
You hear grunts of exertion and see violent flinches of attempted movement from Dracula's shadow, both become more frantic the brighter the sky becomes. While you wait for the sun to be high in the sky, you flip the journal to the last entry. The date on the entry is over a hundred years ago.
"I have been cursed to follow him for all eternity. Always appearing where he does, but never knowing his location. I will not rest until I end him."
As the sky fully brightens, you hear an anguished roar and see a blinding flash of light followed by silence. Stunned, you see both shadows have disappeared from the side of the tent. You clutch the knife as you slowly open the flap, unsure of what you'll find. Blinking in the bright sunlight, you look around. You see a pile of ash, slowly blowing away on the breeze.
There is no sign of Van Helsing.
I'm not sure it's exactly what the prompt was looking for, but that's what came out lol. Any comments or concrit are welcome!
no subject
I also love "you, old fiend" :DDDDD (Unless that was a typo. But still, i love it.)
no subject
I'm so glad you caught that! It was absolutely supposed to be friend/fiend.