Writing Prompt

Because of the feeling of a lengthy tongue exploring my face, I jolted awake, my eyes shooting open with shock. My arm immediately moved to wipe the moist saliva off of my cheek as my hand bolted out to grab my glasses. I put on the spectacles and nervously looked around, but once I looked up and saw who the culprit was, a small sigh of alleviation escaped my lips.

“Oh- Ar’on… You scared me to death.”

I said to the demon with a chuckle. It just stared at me with its blood-red eyes and its head tilted silently. I noticed it wasn’t towering over me at the moment like it usually does, which made it less intimidating; I assumed it was crouched down on its knees.

“What do you need?” I questioned Ar’on with a yawn, shifting my position to face it. It stuck his crimson tongue out for a moment before it replied with an extremely deep voice, sounding like the voice you’d hear after you die.

“I have brought you breakfast for tomorrow.” Then, Ar’on pointed over to a stranger’s body that was lying unconscious on the ground, blood and bruises resting all over the poor person. Though the demon didn’t care that it killed some innocent person as a proud tone was present in his words.

Meanwhile, my eyes widened with horror, and my face grimaced at the sight of the corpse. “Ar’on! It’s nice of you to get me food, but you’ve been living here for two weeks now; you should know by now that I can’t eat people!”

Even though it couldn’t show any emotions, I could tell that the demon was pouting at my reaction.

“Fine,” it grumbled, “more for me...”

“Fine.” I sighed and placed my glasses back on the nightstand as Ar’on stood upright and walked over to the corpse, beginning to feast while I tried to go to sleep once again. It was difficult to doze off because of its mouth loudly smacking the flesh as it chewed, and I had to wait fifteen whole minutes before it finished.

Finally, I was able to doze off, but the last thing I felt was Ar’on lying on my bed next to me, its legs dangling from the end of the mattress. The demon wrapped its long arm around to cuddle me, the stench of ash and blood seeping into my nose; I didn’t mind that much though. I was used to it at this point.

Steven here, I woke up this morning with my tongue bleeding as I had ate a rock for some reason. But it tasted good so I do not regret it

Steven here, I am writing about my poem the tree

the tree has feelings, and so do I. The boy on the street, tries to eat the tree while he is sitting across the road

I awoke with not a bang, nor a whimper, but rather a long steaming tongue scraping it’s way up the side of my face.

I reached over for the taser that I had placed on the old wooden nightstand that lay on the right of my bed. I kept it near me at all times just in case some thing like this happened. When you hunt every kind of monster for a living, you never know what’ll happen. I extended my arm towards the nightstand but felt nothing but it’s cold hard surface. Someone had taken my taser. _Great. _I’m left to only one option, hand-to-tounge combat.

I grabbed a hold on the rough and slimly tounge. Who ever it belonged to dared not to show their face, the tounge, which rapped itself around my hands in order to stop blood circulation, had extended out from behind the door of my hotel room. Who ever this was, new exactly how to play my game.

I tried to free my hands, but it was no use. The tounge rapped itself right around my hands. Then, then a mysterious figure stepped out from behind the door.

He dangled over me, he was tall and so skin he looked like nothing but bones, and his eyes where completely black, although it was a little hard to tell since his dark and greasy hair dangled in his face. I new this guy.

Oh no. The person at the door wasn’t a person but an ancient being. And a powerful one, we had crossed paths once and I had tried to kill him, but I was no match for his power, ever since then I had been on the run. There was no beating this guy.

He unwrapped his tounge from my hands and quickly rerapped it around my neck. I couldn’t breath. Everything around me had begun to fade and black spread everywhere. I knew my time had come.

Come on, birds!! Let me sleep just a little longer. 🥱

I know I stayed up a little too late last night, but I’m used to sleeping in until noon when I do that. The birds woke me up at 6 am with their sweet/annoying chirping. Maybe they were asking their Mom for breakfast? Maybe they were just more excited about waking up than I was. Either way, I’m groggy and want to go back to sleep. I wish I could lean my seat back, but our stuff is right behind me. It feels like something is always right behind me.

I awoke not with a bang, nor a whimper, but rather a long steaming tongue scraping its way up the side of my face. Its thick pasty saliva drips down onto my chin, the tongue heaving up and down. As I regained my strength, my eyes began to roll open, the darkness of the cave spilling into my eyes. My eyes dart to the creature on my left. My hand reaches out to feel the mysterious creature but it dangles in the cold air. I feel around the ground, small rocks and dust rolling onto my palm. My hand reaches onto a stick of wood, my fingers wrapping around the surface. I wave the stick around the air, hitting onto a hard surface. The monster bites onto the stick, pulling it towards their body. As the creature holds onto the wood, I get up and bold towards a hole in the cave. It’s dark but a speck of light sticks out at the end of the tunnel.

Good morning Rather alarming That hot steaming tongue Would frighten the young

But for me you see I awoke with glee My dragons were back Without them I lacked

"I awoke not with a bang, not a whimper, but a long steaming tongue scraping its way up the side of my face."

Detective Ambrose's eyes refused to leave his notepad as his right hand darted from left to right. He's a fast writer for a middle-aged man, and I can't help but question his penmanship because from where I'm sitting everything looks like scribbles, chicken scratch as some would say.

"And the woman who licked your face was your landlord?"

His monotone voice is almost offensive. I knew my story sounded outlandish, but I figured he'd share some form of interest in what I had to say. Otherwise, why would they bring me in for questioning? I considered asking for a new detective...but was that a thing? Would Detective Ambrose be offended if I asked for a replacement?

He straightened in his seat, as though he'd read my thoughts on replacing him. He cleared his throat like he was like he was trying to prove that I still had his interest. "How often did you interact with Cheryl and her husband Oscar?"

"As you know she lives in the apartment across from me. I don't see Cheryl or her husband very often, in fact, I can't remember the last time I'd seen them. When that happened, I'd only seen them a handful of times, and every time I saw them she had a walker...she looked sick."

I considered my next words, unsure if I wanted to say them. I thought them over and they sounded cruel. I felt bad for merely thinking of them. Ambrose's eyes narrowed, urging me to continue.

"Okay, I honestly thought she was dead before tonight. A few weeks ago at like, five in the morning, I saw an ambulance come by and wheel someone out on a stretcher. I naturally thought it was her. Since then I haven't seen Cheryl or her husband come out of their apartment." I watched as Ambrose scribbled away on his notepad. "I know someone's home though. Their blinds go from closed to open...just slightly, but open regardless. I can see a light on when it's dark. I just don't know who's home."

Ambrose set his pen down on the table and folded his hands tight. I could see the gray in the crevices in his palms and it made my skin crawl. I have no idea how anyone can go through a day without applying some form of lotion. Ambrose's hands were so dry that I questioned if he even knew what lotion was.

"Tell me again, about the incident that happened last summer."

"You mean the licking?"

"That's right Ms. Dawson, the licking. And this time give me more detail."

"Right." Ambrose made me uncomfortable. I could feel his cold gray eyes on me, and they made me shiver. I felt like a child being scolded by the principal. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and continued forth with his request.

"It was a random summer weeknight. On weeknights, I try to be in bed by ten and asleep by eleven so I can start my morning routine. I live on the second floor, and I always check the front door before going to bed. I'm positive I checked it that night like I would any other night. I watched some TV and fell asleep around eleven. At some point during the night, I heard footsteps making their way through my apartment-"

"And you thought you were dreaming?" Interjected Ambrose.

I gave him a cautious nod. I told him how I had a history of having weird dreams. How I tended to remember the nightmares more than the good ones. I told him that when I heard the footsteps, I thought they were coming from downstairs and that my neighbors below me had a history of being loud. I didn't think much of the footsteps as they made their way through my apartment. I figured I was having a lucid dream because I had those frequently. That I knew I wasn't dreaming when she licked me.

Ambrose asked. "What did you do when she licked your face?"

"I freaked out. What was I supposed to do? That night my window was open and the only source of light was the moonlight. I knew it was Cheryl because of her body frame. I couldn't quite see her facial features in the darkness, but I could tell that she was smiling. A big wide smile because I could see the shine in her teeth."

"What did she do after she woke you?"

I scoffed. "She stood there for a few seconds, but it felt longer. Then she turned and walked out of my bedroom. I was so shocked and confused that I couldn't leave my bed. She unlocked the front door and left. I think I finally snapped out of my daze when she got to the base of the stairs. I ran to my window and just watched as she walked across the grass toward her apartment, she went inside and that was it."

"And you still think this scenario was a dream?" There's a heavy emphasis on the word "dream", his voice is stern.

"I do...I did." I fumbled. "The situation was so weird that I think I convinced myself that it was a dream. I'd seen Cheryl with a walker for months, there was no way she could make her way up my stairs. I know landlords have a copy of our keys, but they legally can't come in without the tenant's consent. I woke up the next morning and my apartment seemed fine, the door was locked as I remembered, and my face didn't feel weird. I just cast it off as a creepy lucid dream. I didn't think much of the event until the cops came by to...well, bring me to you."

"Do you know why you were brought in by the cops tonight Ms. Dawson?"

I shook my head no.

Ambrose cleared his throat, and it sounded dry. It made me question the last time he had so much as a sip of water. Made me wonder how much self-care this middle-aged detective had put into himself.

"Oscar was found dead a few hours ago."

My throat went dry, instantly turning into a tube of sandpaper. I felt dizzy, intoxicated by Ambrose's chilling words. The interrogation room suddenly felt small, far too narrow and suffocating for me and the detective.

"What happened?" I managed. My voice sounded hoarse, and dry to my ears.

Ambrose shook his head with a sullen expression. "Can't tell you yet. But it's not pretty. Your landlord's apartment is currently a blood bath, and she appears to be missing."

My interview with Ambrose didn't last much longer after he told me that. He said to call him if I remembered anything else. He shook my hand (which was very gross), and suggested that I stay somewhere else for the next few nights, maybe even the next few weeks. That night I took a drive, and I was moved out of that apartment within a week.

Weeks later I found out that Cheryl had eaten her husband Oscar. I wouldn't find out until months later that she'd only eaten the contents of his torso. Eating his intestines, his heart, his lungs, his kidneys, and whatever else was in our torsos.

The authorities never found Cheryl, my landlord, and to this day she still remains at large.

I shot up quickly, backing away from what ever was near. I could hear it’s labored breathing on the other side of the cave. I inched slowly backwards trying to reach the edge of the cave. My finger tips touched something rough, assuming it was the caves wall I curled up trying to become as small as possible. I had tried to calm down as much as I possibly could . I was probably over thinking, I though to myself. As soon as I thought that, I felt a drip of water fall upon my head. I was more than confused. I hadn’t seen water in days. I reached to the top of my head, and my fingers were met by not water, but saliva. It was warm and thick, and there was lots of it. Before I could even register what just happened, I slowly tilted my head to see what it had come from. There shining back at me were a pair of giant, glowing, yellow eyes. I leaped onto my feet, running as fast as I could. On my way out of the cave I made sure to grab my bag. I couldn’t forget it. No matter what happened I had to get the key to the palace. I quickened my pace as I heard the creature approaching. My throat burned us the crisp morning air entered my lungs. The stitch in my side worsened with every step I took. My thoughts were racing, but I knew my goal and nothing was going to get in the way of that. I had no idea how long I had been running but I didn’t hear anything behind me anymore so I slowed down just a little. I looked behind me and didn’t see anything, so I decided to rest on a fallen tree not too far from the path. It was only when I sat down that I realized that my whole leg had been scraped up. I must have brushed past a thorn bush, or maybe a tree. It didnt hurt too bad though, so I decided it would be fine. I took some berries out of my bag and ate a few, before continuing on the path again. This time though I was a lot more calm since something wasn’t chasing me. The sun was beginning to rise and it was warming up a bit, as well. According to my calculations the palace was still two towns over, not including the stretches of forests I was going to have to trek through. That would take at least five more days. I had already been on my journey for at least a month now, and I was exhausted, but extremely thrilled that I was almost there. The king would be waiting there for me, along with the riches that would save our village from poverty! Our village had been struggling for like forever, and our leader picked me to return the Lost Key of Zuron back to the palace. I had no ideas what kind of trouble I was getting myself into when I agreed. This journey had been nothing but hard. _Crunch _I shot my head up to see where the sound was coming from. I looked all around me, but still couldn’t see anything. Was I hearing things? I couldn’t be. It had to be something. All of a sudden a branch from the tree above me snapped and wacked me right in the side of my head. I couldn’t hear anything, nor could u see anything. This was only the beginning of the silencing.

Everything hurt. Copper penny taste filled my mouth. Stroking my chest, a man-eating tiger scraped its raspy steaming tongue up the side of my face. Good, I thought, I’m home. This is a doozy of a hangover. I nestled into my cat’s inviting orange striped fur.

Suddenly JoJo screaming, the squeal of the truck’s brakes, sparks on the highway, my memories slammed into me. I lurched upright. Poe rubbed a concerned head against my side. Wincing from a couple of bruised ribs, I surveyed the wreckage. JoJo was driving the big cats trailer with me as shotgun. We were lead vehicle followed by the small animals, props, talent, staff, and clowns. We had just stopped for the mid trip watering and gas at the rest stop. God damned JoJo could never handle his Everclear.

Red light wailing ambulance pulled up to the shoulder. I see a handful of police cars. The torn grill of the big cat truck flashed a twisted grin. A white Animal Control van menaced by the side of the highway. Poe paced around me protectively.

“Ang, it’s bad,” Tootsie, aka Arielle the High Flying Angel of the Trapeze, called out to me.

Holding one arm folded over her chest, she pushed away the EMT and climbed down the embankment. With her good arm she held a stuffed hotdog plushie. I tensed. One of my animals was in danger. Tootsie gave me a quick rundown. Small animals were fine, the crew were okay just banged up except for stupid JoJo who already on his way to the ER.

“Hemingway is missing. Heard over the police scanner that a tiger has been spotted over at a development off Exit 3,” Tootsie said petting Poe. I heard Wollencraft their mom howling in despair from the trailer. I knew what I had to do. Tootsie tossed me Hemingway’s favorite toy.

“Can you give me a distraction, Toots? I gotta go get my boy,” I whispered to her. “Put Poe back before anyone gets itchy trigger fingers.”

Burying my bloody face into Poe’s side, I left him know I got this. Tootsie gathered his fur in one hand and started going into a Sarah Bernhardt swoon. I backed away all nonchalence.

“Oh no not one of her spells not now. I gotta find her pills!” I shouted.

My ribs blazed as I beelined for the clown car. I gave Butter Bean the head jester a knowing look and a nod in Tootsie’s direction. Battered but always down to clown, Butter and the rest of her boys joined in the act beseeching the emergency workers for help. Throwing his arms around a cop, Twist sobbed flailing a string of multicolored silk scarves. Norman offered Animal Control a rubber chicken.

Flicking his tail, Poe flopped on his belly to enjoy the antics. Stuffed hotdog on my lap, I reversed Butter’s Suburban and pulled into the last exit. Hemingway my 700 pound scaredy cat hold on I’m coming.