Writing Prompt

The heavy ash doors swing outward from their central resting place. Loud creaks echo into the vast opening of the many stories bar. Tables are strewn about the lowest level, surrounding the dark stained bar at the center of the room. A mishmash of chairs sit turned over atop the tables.

Standing in the center of the bar, the walls open up tall in homage to the Mouth that lingers high above E...

One indoor setting that features prominently in "The Mirror Maiden" is the Tower of Song. This surreal location is a place of incredible power, a place where realities shift and blend together in intricate and unpredictable ways.

As the travelers enter the tower, they are immediately struck by the vivid colors and shapes that surround them. The walls are lined with records, each one a reflection ...

Aunt Mattie’s house was actually more like a cottage. When Brady walked in through the front door, he was surprised at how tiny it was, given that Aunt Mattie was quite tall. Her head practically brushed the ceiling in the small entryway, and the only light on this dark evening came from a small lamp on a very small table where he saw a set of keys and what must have been his aunt’s purse, also li...

You can still see the blood on the carpet in the infamous Murder House. In fact you can see everything as it was back in 1983 when the murders happened. It’s as though it’s frozen in time. I mean…if you go there now you’ll see that the place has been completely trashed over years of random visitors. Kids looking for a thrill at the most iconic house in town. Teenagers looking for cool spot to dr...

With firm strokes, Professor Desi Jeffrey thinly sliced an English cucumber and added the slices to a pitcher of ice water. Camera drones buzzed around his kitchen. Rich veined granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, dark oak cabinets Dr. Jeffrey’s kitchen, in fact his entire house was vintage circa 2010, a temple to the last high point of Western civilization. His students from NewEarth,...

Luvinus felt the cold in his thick fur before he even opened his eyes. He couldn’t tell how long he had been unconscious, all he remembered was being shot with a silver bullet. The thought reminded him of the excruciating pain. The wound throbbed and made him open his eyes.

Ice cold. Humidity. Grey, rough walls meeting the ceiling of the same colour and texture. Far in the distance he could hear ...