How's it going? The good folks at Nightmare Fuel Magazine opened up their submissions once again with the theme this time of 'Don't let them in.' Below is the submission that I kept to myself. Why? Well, to be honest, I battled it endlessly to try and make it work within the word limit but just couldn't get it done. I was a little pissed because I liked the idea of revisiting a couple of characters which were successful the first time around. I had my reservations about going back there but I thought the concept was good and the premise was funny. The main problem I found was that I couldn't get the middle figured out. I liked my opening and the ending but to get from one to the other was beyond me. I even tried afresh (well afresh'ish) to condense the first section to give me some more words to play with but I still wasn't 100% happy with either version so it went to the scrap heap. I'll post both versions below for you to have a look at. Lucky, I had another idea that I built and fleshed out which made the cut (Stay tuned - 10th June it will be published). Feel free to let me know what you think of the below and if you could have made it work. Just sign here - Version 1 Joe inhaled deeply as he wiped his sweaty palms on his crispy white shirt. He looked at Mary, who smiled at him reassuringly as she cradled their blonde toddler on her hip. Joe could feel his heart thumped in his chest as he rapped on the front door of the house. Mary mimed a wide smile at Joe. Nodding in acknowledgement, Joe forced a smile as the door swung open and an elderly lady answered. “Good afternoon ma’am. We were wondering if we could speak to you about our overlord and tormentor, Satan?” The old woman squinted and turned her head to the side, forcing one of her ears towards Joe. “Sorry dear, can you speak up?” she said. Joe shuffled his feet on the spot and cleared his throat “I said. We’d like to talk to you about our overlord, Satan!” “Lord and Saviour hey?” she replied, looking Joe up and down. Joe was about to correct her when Mary rested a hand on his arm, pulling him back from his words. Joe thought the old woman looked thoughtful for a moment before she said. “I suppose we could have a chat. I lost my Bert last month and maybe it’s time I found religion.” “Excellent!” said Joe with too much enthusiasm. She turned and hobbled away from the door. Joe stepped aside and allowed Mary to enter first. The elderly woman slowly lowered herself onto a chair at the dining table in the kitchen. Joe and Mary took a seat. The small child giggled and slapped playfully at the table as she settled into Mary’s lap. “Sorry, we never caught your name!” said Joe loudly, less self-conscious of raising his voice now they were within the confines of the house. “Doris dear.” “Nice to meet you Doris, today we present you with the opportunity of an afterlife time!” said Joe. He’d been rehearsing the speech all week “Sign up today, and get a guaranteed spot in Satan’s undead horde.” “Oh that sounds nice dear.” Replied Doris. “Great!” said Joe. He took the rolled parchment from Mary and unfurled it on the table in front of Doris. “Now all we need is a signature in your blood -”“Wait!” said Doris. “Did you say signed in blood?” Joe smiled, nodding his head. “Oh no dear. I won’t be signing anything in blood.” Doris braced herself on the table and chair, ready to stand up. Joe felt his heart rate increase and his skin flushed. He’d gathered no new souls for his master all week. “Doris, if you just give me a moment to explain.” said Joe, reaching out, grabbing Doris by the wrist. “Let go of me!” she said, attempting to wriggle free from Joe’s grip. With each turn of her arm, Joe could feel her tissue paper skin tear apart in his palm. Blood began to seep between his fingers. Joe looked at Mary, who shook her head and let out a sigh. Reaching into her handbag, Mary produced a knife with a golden blade. Reversing it in her grip, Mary drove the knife through the back of Doris’s hand with such force that it pinned the extremity to the wooden table, capturing the contract underneath Doris' splayed fingers. Blood oozed from Doris’s hand as she howled in pain. Shocked, Joe let go of her wrist and Doris dropped to her knees, with her one hand high above her head and still stuck to the table. Mary reefed the blade out, and Doris dropped to the ground, cradling her bleeding hand. “Get the contract Joe. Let’s go.” she said as she stood up. Just sign here - Version 2
Joe couldn’t believe his luck! Gert was exactly the victim lead he had been looking for to She was old, frail and of poor health from a life lived smoking a pack a day. Joe couldn’t help but kick himself a little bit though, had they knocked on her door four weeks earlier, they may have snagged what was known in the business as a 2-for-1 as her dear husband Brad had recently shuffled off this mortal coil. Gert had now been regaling Joe and his wife Mary for two hours now about how great their marriage was. Joe moved himself from one buttcheek to another to ease the numbness from sitting on the hard, wooden dining chair, offering a blank smile to Gert and his wife. Gert was oblivious to his well meaning intention, while Mary sat stoney faced as she attempted to preoccupy their ever increasingly fussy toddler that bounced on her lap. “Now, Gert if I could interrupt.” Said Joe “As you know we’re here today to speak with you about our overload and tormentor, Satan.” Gert nodded “Lord and saviour hey.” She replied. Joe was about to correct her but a gently placed hand by Mary on his forearm pulled him back from his words. He continued “Today we present you with the opportunity of an afterlife time!” said Joe. He’d been rehearsing the speech all week “Sign up today, and get a guaranteed spot in Satan’s undead horde.” “I’m always wary - “ Gert started Joe was well rehersed for this as well. Going door to door meant being ready for anything and it was well known that getting inside was the hardest step. “Let me assure you Gert that we aren’t here to sell you anything” he started “but there are additional benefits if you can refer friends and family as well.” With too much enthusiasm he finished proudly “We’ve already reached the brimstone level!” “Now I’ve written up the contract while you spoke about your dearly departed husband and all we require now is a signature here in blood to seal the deal.” “Wait!” said Gert. “Did you say signed in blood?” Joe smiled, nodding his head. “Oh no dear. I won’t be signing anything in blood.” Gert braced herself on the dining table and the back of her chair, ready to stand up. Joe’s heart rate spiked and his skin flushed. He’d gathered no new souls for his master all week. “Gert, if you just give me a moment to explain.” said Joe, reaching out, grabbing her by the wrist. “Let go of me!” she said, attempting to wriggle free from Joe’s grip. With each turn of her arm, Joe could feel her tissue paper skin tear apart in his palm. Blood began to seep between his fingers. Joe looked at Mary, who let out a sigh and shook her head in disappointment. Reaching into her handbag, Mary produced a knife. Reversing it in her grip, Mary drove the blade down through the back of Gert’s hand with such force that it pinned the extremity to the wooden table, capturing the contract underneath Gert’s splayed fingers. Blood oozed from her hand as she howled in pain. Shocked, Joe let go of her wrist and Gert dropped to her knees, with her one hand high above her head and still stuck to the table. Mary reefed the blade out, and Gert dropped to the ground, cradling her bleeding hand. “Get the contract Joe. Let’s go.” she said as she stood up.
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Writing PromptsUsing writing prompts was a great suggestion that was discussed at one of the writing groups I attended. Typically at the start of any of the meetings, everyone is given a word or phrase and they spell the next 10-15 minutes writing whatever comes to mind.
I find this exercise is awesome at firing the brain up and starting to think creatively. But I didn’t want to do all the work myself so who better then my 12 year old to provide me with the writing prompts and I attempt to write something from it. Typically I try and write a short story of about 1000-1500 words which I then share with said 12 year old for feedback and a rating, this rating is captured on each story as the Certified Score. Shh.. It’s also a sneaky way to get him reading a bit more as well. I post my writing prompts to Medium so I can get some more eyeballs on them and get feedback on anything I can improve on. Archives
June 2023
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