Writing Prompt
VISUAL PROMPT
Your protagonist is hosting a party in the middle of the desert. Who are they and why are they here?
Writings
All the Pretty Lights
The desert sky was a river of ribbons. Under the giant white tent tiny lights twinkled. At least that was what Deana imagined as she and Bobbie drove into the desert. This music festival is the hottest ticket of the summer, of the year, maybe of the decade. Deana hugged herself as Fitzwilliam’s car cut into the sand. Fitzwilliam smiled
Hannah was talking to the piece of shit now. Robert Fitzwilliam sat smug in his prison grays. Paul paced behind her chair. This was hopeless, he thought. Hannah was his partner and his respected her. But Hannah insisted on believing by appealing to this creature’s humanity they could get clues on the missing women. Paul scrubbed at his face.
Fitzwilliam leaned across the table. The stench of the man’s body odor above the prison smell of disinfectant slapped at Hannah. The detective controlled her face. During the search of Fitzwilliam’s motorhome a stack of photos had been found hidden in a vent. Some smiling, some not, the women in snapshots were nameless, possibly missing, possibly worse. Fitzwilliam traced a finger on one of the faces.
Paul pounded the table. The photocopies shivered as the cop banged and shouted. Fitzwilliam leaned back as far as his restraints allowed. Not in fear, the prisoner just wanted a good view of the cop losing his religion. Hannah pushed and held Paul back. The guards came in, Pratt and Wick. Roughly Pratt unshackled the prisoner as Wick sucker punched Fitzwilliam’s in his side. The guards pulled the prisoner away.
The night was becoming ink. Deana wondered why there were no other cars on the road. Fear trickled down her back. Deana looked around seeing only seguras and the gray highway in Fitzwilliam’s car’s headlights. She shook her doubts away and focused on the festival, on the music, and the celebrities, and the pretty lights.
Sexy Sand Creatures
It’s amazing, really, a human’s ability to carve out a safe and comfortable space for themself in the midst of utterly inhospitable environments. As part of Life On Earth, humans wound up in some of the most unpleasant, hostile environments you could think of. And yet, with the help of other humans, they would inevitably find a way to create shelter, to harvest food and animals (bugs included), to create some sort of hierarchy that served the community. Some people would hunt, some would build, some would farm, and some would prepare food.
Preston was a human who grew up in an extremely safe and comfortable space. Affluent parents who gave him maybe not necessarily everything he needed, but everything he wanted. If he were to find himself plopped down in a strange land, he wouldn’t feel TOO stressed out because he has a phone, and connections, and money, and lots and lots of credit cards.
He always found himself fascinated when crowds of people gathered in high deserts like Joshua Tree to have parties. It looked so transcendental, so euphoric and magical and natural and special. Good looking young people wearing crochet vests, vegan leather sandals, John Lennon sunglasses, strategically torn leggings. Listening to music, dancing, doing whatever kinds of drugs, drinking, and having lots of sex.
Up until now, Preston had only seen these events on TV and in movies. He lived in Minnesota, nowhere close to any atmospheric and sexy high mountain deserts. But he decided that it was time to change that. Making heavy use of those credit cards, he booked a space, rented a giant RV, had someone gather and prepare and pack up all the necessities and goodies they could find. And he called his friends. Some of them weren’t even his friends, rather, people he wanted to like him.
Preston and twenty others hopped in that RV one summer day and drove all the way out to Plano Lago, California, a relatively unknown desert area. He didn’t want to go to Joshua Tree National Park, where there would doubtlessly already be LOADS of young people gathering to be fashionable and have fun. He wanted to go off the beaten path, where no one had ever partied before.
And so here he was, his plan had been a success. There was a giant, white, canvas tent set up, surrounded by fashionable string lights, and even a dance floor area set up. There were coolers full of food and champagne. There were electric fans places throughout, powered by a bunch of generators that were so quiet you forgot they were there. Three stand-up tests were scattered across the area for Preston and co. to sleep or have sex in when the time came. There was a huge fire pit surrounded by rocks and sturdy branches to sit on. Preston would have to give this party planner a huge tip.
Most importantly there was a massive sound system. A Bluetooth speaker that boomed across the dance floor. They used it, they loved it. They drank and danced and did some drugs. They laughed and admired each other’s fashions. They took so, so many pictures with their phones. Lots of duck lips and peace signs. They sang along with the music, and jumped up and down on the laminate dance floor. As the night went on the music only got louder, became the center of their desert party universe.
Preston didn’t even wonder if there were any other people or homes in the vicinity. He knew there wouldn’t be. And even if there were, he didn’t care because they were leaving him alone. He did wonder, just for a moment, if anyone else out there in the night could hear his music, or if they were the only humans able to experience it at that moment. It felt special, secluded, exclusive.
He found himself sitting by the fire, making out with a girl named Jenny from his statistics class. Their blood pumped in their ears, along with the techno dance bass from the speakers. Their hands were all over each others skin, their tongues intertwining. And about a mile away a giant sand worm was starting to make its way underground to find the source of all that bass. The hair on its long, scaly body picked up the vibrations and excited its little worm brain, made it feel extra ravenous.
The Desolate Desert
Marvin sat down in the white canvas tent and pushed his spectacles farther up his nose. He had a crazy idea. It would take years to accomplish, but it would all be worth it in the end. It had to be. He clearly printed the names of famous archeologists from all around the world and asked for their assistance. He invited them to a party of sorts to explain the next big thing in the industry.
Weeks later Marvin stood alone in his tent watching the icing melt off of the cake he had tediously spent hours crafting. Alone at a party again. It’s not like this was anything new, but it still chipped a piece of his heart away. Out of the hundreds of invitations he had sent, he received only a handful of replies saying the desert held nothing new, and anyone with half a brain was finding work in the jungle. Marvin slammed his fist into the table and the cake toppled in a sticky mess. Fire blazed in his eyes and he realized it was time to take fate in his own hands. So he dug. And dusted. And searched. And mapped. Every inch of the Sahara desert until one day in late April, the impossible came true. Marvin’s insane obsession had paid off. The archeologists from the jungle begged to be a part of history. To bathe in the shadow of Marvin’s greatness. Every memory of rejection and mockery filled Marvin’s mind. He wanted them to know pain. But the loneliness he had known filled his bones with a deeper ache. He looked in the depths of his soul and realized that someone needed to reach out even if he’d only received rejection for his attempts. Marvin welcomed them with open arms.
Don’t Wanna Know
Driving up a dirt road in a five year old box truck, two men in white shirts and black pants, Drew and Mike, listen to static filled country music on the radio.
They pull up to the site that just 12 hours earlier they were setting up a tent and catering equipment, ready to begin the break-down and pack-up process. However when they arrive, something is a little bit off.
Only two of the plates have been touched. Besides that, the entire venue looks pristine, like a party never happened.
But Drew and Mike know there was a party here - guests started arriving while they were still setting up. And to add to that, there are still fifteen cars parked just to the side of the venue.
“What the fuck man? The party was supposed to end an hour ago. Do we just throw away all this food?” Drew said.
“No, I’m gonna take some home if it hasn’t been touched - ya know, so we’re not wasteful” Mike joked, with the both of them knowing it was so he wouldn’t have to pay for his next two meals.
“Do whatever you want man. I don’t care about the food. But I was supposed to get paid for the remaining balance at the end of their night. If they fuckin left and stiffed us I’m gonna be pissed. “
“Well maybe they just went on a walk. Ya know, the ol’ pre-thanksgiving walk-n-burn.”
“Ok so now we have to go looking for these rich fuckers? I’m not getting paid to do that.”
“Let’s just walk up that hill and see if we can see anybody from up there”
“Fine”
They walk up the hill and look down in the valley on the opposite side. They stand there in silence as they process what they are looking at.
There are ten lifeless bodies laying on the ground about two hundred yards away. Next to the bodies are 4 men and 1 woman, on their knees and bound with rope. Walking behind them are four men in black suits with black shirts. One of them is yelling something that the boys can’t make out. But they can tell that all four men are armed.
The boys lower themselves on the hill to reduce their profile against the light of the dinner venue. They otherwise freeze, physically and verbally.
These two boys in the primes of their lives are utterly terrified - to the point where Drew starts to hyperventilate. Mike takes notice and runs to the truck to grab Drew’s inhaler. Upon returning, worried about his friend, Mike doesn’t duck down like he was before.
200 yards away, 5 prisoners’ pupils start to look past the gunmen - focusing on something in the distance. They can’t communicate with each other or move, so they stare with a hopeful glean in their eyes.
The gunmen take notice when the prisoners change their posture and all seem to be looking at the same thing. They whip their heads around and see the very thing the prisoners hoped they wouldn’t - Drew and Mike.
The gunmen scramble to two black Escalades, all of which the caterers see - and proceed to start sprinting away.
Initially, the two boys just start running. Straight. With no plan. In their minds they honestly believe they can outrun the late-model SUVs accelerating towards them.
“Wait! Where the fuck are we going?!” Mike screams.
“I don’t know but I’m getting far away and hiding. “
“Let’s get back to the truck and go!”
“They’ll be able to catch up to us easily. That thing is slow as shit. We gotta outsmart them. “
After some thinking, the boys devise a plan. They will not only hide, but they will protect themselves if need be. Armed with a pocket knife and all the catering equipment one could ever want, they split up.
Drew would be the decoy at the top of an adjacent hill. Mike would be behind a table, hidden by the long white tablecloth.
When the two trucks get close Mike kills the lights. The sudden lack of light didn’t help the boys as much as they thought, forgetting to account for headlights.
Drew then pretends to be startled when the first truck starts driving towards him. He runs diagonally up the hill and leads the truck blindly over the hill and into a ravine. One down.
The second truck pulls a late turn to avoid the same fate, but in doing so, runs into a large boulder. The crash wasn’t enough to kill the driver and passenger, but it was enough to injure them and cause them to take their time getting out.
During this time, Mike slashes the tires of the second Escalade. Then he and drew throw the little catering flame pucks under the SUV, erupting in flames upon contact.
This gives them enough time to make it back to the box truck and high tail it out if there.
Before they even get off of the road that the venue is on, the guilt of Drew, who is driving, causes him turn around.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” Mike screamed
“We have to get those five people that are tied up. We gotta try”
The wheels lock up when the boys are 15 feet from the prisoners, the momentum slides them within 5.
“Listen, I don’t care what happened. I don’t want to know who any of you or they are. But if you’re alive and want to continue to be alive, get in the back of the truck in the next 15 seconds. “ Mike screamed, almost in a manic state.
The five tied up people hopped to the back of the truck and jumped in.
The truck sped away, leaving a large cloud of dust behind them.
About five miles away, ten police cars come racing past them, undoubtedly heading to where they just came from.
Drew turned to Mike: “I don’t wanna know”
Hit List
“ Stupid Ragweeds-“
“ How about you actually focus on the mission ahead of us, Cam. Not complaining about the climate.”
“ Like that’s going to help me not die from the elements, Fey.”
Parties. Possibly the bane of my existence. Out of all the places we can be, why a party. In a desert, no less.
Fey said this would be where our target is. Hence why I needed to use my own money for this worthless piece of trash.
The earpiece is stagnant, meaning someone is offline. Great. No sidekick on this bandwagon.
I walk towards the small bar side table, keeping to myself; my eyes on the crowd.
‘ Target Acquired, Cam. Well, I think.’ My earpiece jolts with life- with Fey’s voice strained.
“ What’s the matter Fey, see anyone accompanying them?” I mumble, sipping on some spiked fruit punch.
‘ I don’t see anyone, but problem is I…don’t know if they are actually going to be here-‘
“ I’m sorry?”
‘ We don’t know if the main man of the hour will be here. It’s a hit or miss. We gave invites to most people working nearby that office- so it had to extend somehow. I’m sorry Cam, just be-‘
I turn off the piece, rolling my eyes. Of course they send me to a mission, my first one, destined to fail. They really hate me that much.
Our intel said the assassin was to be invited to this party. A party planned by me, aka a spy. There is several undercover police in the shadows, waiting to strike.
By my signal.
However, how am I supposed to catch the man if he’s not even supposed to be here?
Just my luck.
With a quick swig of my drink, I place it down. I’ve tried everything. I placed it far away from civilization - from police. I even put the wanted victim in harms way, like a fattened pig ready for slaughter.
This man has been so many chances- so where is he? The one he wants to kill is on the dance floor, with bodyguards afloat.
“ Hey darling, care to dance?”
A sultry voice appears behind me, deep with southern accent.
A woman with bright jade eyes with a slick black dress is in my face. Her curly blonde locks are untamed, with lips are puckered out, as if trying to seduce me.
“ uh, sure?”
She takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. Hand in hand, we slowly sway to the music. I’m not much of a dancer, so I stand awkwardly by her.
“ So are you Cameron Adler, the host of this event?” Her words are like whiskey to me.
She’s up to something, I suspect.
“ I would expect you to be…busy dancing with all these fine ladies this evening. But there you were, in a corner of your own party no less. Please remind me, sugar. What’s this fine party for?”
“ Well, it’s to uh…celebrate…”
Her eyes pierce through my skull. And that’s not even half of it. She has a headstrong gaze, that just makes you feel small. Hot. Like a hot day in July, exhausted from the heat.
“ Celebrate what, sweetheart?”
Gosh, she is using many pet names. Is she like some prostitutes brought from Las Vegas Strip?
“ My fathers…life. I’m sure you know he passed many months ago. I haven’t had the…heart to throw a party in his legacy.”
The part is true about my father. He died 9 months ago. However, the party isn’t for him. His legacy was built on abusing my mother with alcoholism. He isn’t to be celebrated in my eyes.
“ Goodness, I’m sorry for your loss Mr. Adler. However…”
She leans closer to me, arms wrapped around my torso. I can feel her steady breath on my ear, my heart pounding.
“ your father was…not a good man. Why celebrate his life when…well, you know..”
She has a grin like a madman; it’s making my heart pound. Why does she know this?
Unless-
Immediately, the lights above were shut off. Blackness enveloped the room as I hastily turn my earpiece back on.
‘ So you finally done pouting-‘
Gunshots and screams enter my ears. I reach in my pocket, scrambling for light.
Am I too late?
“ Just shut it for once Fey, I think I found our culprit. And they do not like a man one bit”
I pull my handgun out, turning the safety off.
‘ You think our culprit is a female? That actually cuts things down quite a bit.’
“ Keep talking, Fey. I’m going to investigate where our lovely lady is.”
Since the first initial gunshot, everyone has been put into a frenzy. With my flashlight on, I head to the back, the hilt of the gun in hand.
‘ Does she have green eyes and soft blonde hair? Curly?’
“ I-“
“ I’d put the gun away sugar. You may hurt yourself.”
I can feel a barrel pressed into my head. Fey questions my every move, asking my whereabouts. I drop the gun, kicking it away.
“ I’m suprised you can listen.”
The lights start to flicker, exposing the room.
The victim, the woman who was the target of all is laid dead behind her.
“ Why kill her, assassin?”
My voice is harsh and cold. I glare at the woman, who shrugs.
“ She is of many who are corrupt. She wishes to end this world as we speak. I’m just saving us another day of breath one day at a time.”
“ That woman, the Chief Executive was innocent. How do you-“
She rolls her eyes, dropping the gun lower.
“ I would explain more, yet you don’t seem to be the open mind kind of guy. But…”
Her eyes glint with pride, my ice turning cold.
“ Your father was the one who started this whole mess. I’m just trying to pick the pieces. And who you work for, heh. You are like your father, one way or another. That company you work for is built on abuse.”
The Crazy Trend Of 2043
It…is…SCORCHING… You’re probably wondering what the hell are you talking about? It’s December, which means it’s cold and what not. Well my friend that’s in England. I’m in a random desert. Why you may ask? A party. You must be thinking “Cassie, have you gone BONKERS?” …well guess what I’ve always been. A party in the desert… but Cassie it’s so hot? Well it’s not my fault I am such a social media freak (hey at least I’m honest) and keep up with the latest trends ALL over TikTok, you see living in 2043 you can have the most DANGEROUS things and people are like “oh that’s normal”. So me being me, I found the coolest thing EVER; A DESERT PARTYYYY! Everyone’s enjoying the party though, and everything is going too well for anyone or anything to just ruin it! I made such a good joke for the guests coming and they ALL found it funny, you know what I said?
“Hey everyone, how’s dessert in the desert?” Isn’t that SO funny? Honestly this is so cool, my parents actually let me do this party and the best part is all the food is SOOOOO sand related. Everything is going just how I wanted it to except the heat.. it wasn’t doing anyone in their favour. The heat just wouldn’t calm down and it kept getting hotter and hotter, I was so hot but we somehow had these cool built in AC’s, I mean you know how technology is now, it’s too advanced I mean we can basically fly cars everywhere and what not.
I had come from England as I had mentioned earlier, but it was nowhere as cool as this and for once I was enjoying myself, despite the heat instead of having constant intermittent weather, it was like from tempestuous to sunny in no time then back again. It felt good to have a set weather, and it also was amazing just to live in a moment like this, I mean why not do something crazy and reckless once in a while, you know what they say “You only live once” and so here I was living the life.
Anyway I’m going to go have fun, and take some selfies with my bestiesss Byeeeeeeeee
Sand Party Monster.
When you’re hosting a party in the desert you’re either the enfant terrible of an exiled oligarch or Colonel Gaddafi. Angela was a little from column A and a little too much from column B.
“Jared! The sand!” she shrieked at the waiting staff, who sweated under the millions of tiny bulbs replacing the heat of the setting sun, “It’s on the dance floor again.”
A waiter, presumably Jared, in a full black and white penguin suit, scurried off to retrieve the broom.
“Honestly I thought I asked for this area to be kept sand free at all times! How am I meant to show off my rumba?! I want to glide - GLIDE - not crunch.” Angela’s eyes fell onto a tiny lizard. It sat on one of the huge palms which had been shipped in. Angela’s vision of a lush oasis had certainly been brought to life.
She started to open her mouth to instruct Jared to stop sweeping sand and deal with the intruder but instead, she bent down and examined the little creature. Her blue eyes were keen and judgemental.
“If you don’t fuck off I will collect you and all your family and make you into tiny lizard skin lipstick holders.”
She started to reach her hand out slowly. The lizard darted off scuttling into the now pitch-dark desert.
As Angela stood back up, satisfied that she’d won that particular battle, she noticed that Jared was no longer sweeping. She couldn’t see any of the caterers, waiters or even the sommelier who had only arrived that evening. (His card was well and truly marked).
Heels tick-tocking on the newly installed, yet temporary deck, she peered through the jungle leaves out into the black desert.
And saw nothing.
“Hello?” She heard her voice trail off into nothing. With no structures to bounce the sound meant no echo. It was just her. Alone.
A slight panic built up in her throat. She swallowed it, stubbed out her cigarette and grabbed the phone from her handbag. Scrolling for inspiration, and trying to navigate the multiple tables, she stumbled.
All the tables were tall, the type for sipping cocktails and sniffing coke. As she tripped she grabbed one of these pedestals, making a crystal champagne glass fall to the floor. It tinkle-shattered into a million pieces.
Her gasp held in the air, then dissipated up to the stars, shining like splinters of broken glass miles away in the sky.
Angela began to consider the foolishness of this location. Had the lizard been a sign? Why did she threaten it? Oh god, was he going to come back for her now? Why was she even doing this?
Then - bang.
The lights flashed on, the music began pumping and her friends leapt out from all around her, cheering, laughing, waving gift bags. Their diamond watches and earring give the starred Sky a run for its money.
Angela wiped a tiny tear which started to form from the corner of her ice-blue eye and started greeting her guests.
She snapped her fingers as she sailed past Jared and pointed at the sand on the dance floor.
