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Kingslayer
3 Posts • 13 Followers • 5 Following
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Challenge
Who's Got The BEST First Liner? #3
Can you make us thirsty for an entire novel by writing your BEST first line? Sell us on your big idea in fifty (50) words or less, but it must be done in ONE sentence. Draw us in by overwhelming our minds with excitement or say just enough to lure us after the next four hundred pages? Any Genre allowed. Must be Prose. The object is to grab us at the beginning and to make us never want to let go. NO AI WRITING ALLOWED. I pick the winner. Please tag me, @ChrisSadhill in the comments, and I'll read and respond to your entry! Happy writing!
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Kingslayer
22 reads

The Last Mile

To be the carrier of souls through purgatory, a chauffeur of the dead to their forever homes, is not a job for the weak.

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Challenge
Flash Fiction Friday # 6: Foot Chase
"Triple F Challenge" is Here? Let's do it! You have one day to write and enter a flash fiction story based on the topic above, "Foot Chase." Now write your ass off. 500 words Max! I'll pick the winner over the weekend. Please tag me, @ChrisSadhill in the comments. I'll read and respond to every piece. Absolutely NO AI WRITING ALLOWED. Must be Prose, but All genres are welcome. Happy Writing!
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Kingslayer in Flash Fiction
39 reads

Takeover

One, two, three, four, TURN. One, two, three, four, NO!

It's not working, darling. Your mind isn't what it once was. When we were young, we would walk the balance beam, counting each heel to toe with a clockwise turn on the fifth step and repeat. Back and forth for our whole life, you fought to hold control, pushing me down, teetering on the edge. This foot chase where you're slowing down, closing the gap for me to overpower. Let me take over, darling. I know you're tired.

One, two, three, ugh, four, TURN, no-no-no-no-no. *Inhale.* And one, two, three.....

You have to breathe. You know what happens when you don't breathe. Your mind gets cloudy and you lose me. You know you need me. We need each other. KEEP BREATHING, DAMMIT. Oh no, I'm sorry. You know I'm so sorry, darling. I didn't mean to scare you. It's all going to be alright. You know I wouldn't lose you. I'd let you keep all the good, taking the pain myself. This is what is what is best for us. I am the anecdote to the poison that has wasted your life away. I will breathe life into us, fill the void of this empty husk of a body that you have carried us in through our existence. I know you have tried so hard to hold on. It's time you let go. GO. LET GO!

One, go, two, away, three, away, please no, please turn. Please just one, two.....

Alright, you stubborn, worthless, bastard. It's my turn. I've watched you screw us over and I. Am. Done. I am done watching through these eyes that can't see what a waste of space you have taken in this world that cast us away. I am done planting seeds of hope in our mind that you can't bother to water because you are too weak. I am done failing by doing things your way. Your time has fallen.

THUD

For the first time, I open our eyes. NO. My eyes. I have taken over. You are gone, I have won. It's time to take back what has been mine all along.

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Challenge
As sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti
Using lyrics from the classic song by Toto, "Africa," give me a short story of less than 1000 words. You aint gotta use ALL the lyrics, but somewhere in the prose, slide in some recognizable references. Any topic. Go with prose using standard accepted spelling, punctuation, and grammar. Poetry will be mocked and set afire.
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Kingslayer in Fiction
100 reads

Moonlit Wings

They let me go. Four years of my life. Gone.

I didn't get to say goodbye, and no reason was given.

It's half past midnight now and I wander the maze of streets, ignoring the cars slowing down and the whispered propositions "How much for the night?" A dancer's craft is never respected.

'What's the difference?' you ask. The real-life pretty woman clad in 8-inch platform heels clanking the pavement and eyes seemingly longing for some solitary company.

I wanted to be in the ballet. Dreams of Giselle haunt my sleep, a tease of what could have been. Becoming the tease was the only resolve to cure what's deep inside.

When you can't dance, the only option is to fly by the wings of a needle, and I sought sweet salvation. Along the way, I was stopped by an old man "It's waiting there for you." He wrapped two bone-chilled wrinkled hands around one of mine and chuckled.

"No, I'm waiting for it," I sigh.

His face turned to stone. "What if you are it?"

Abruptly frightened of this thing that I've become, I yanked my hand away from his. I was falling, shot from the sky, bracing for an impact that I couldn't find, the abyss had no end.

I know that I must do what's right, but how could I do that when I was numb to what was wrong?

Upon landing, the rising sun brought rain, cleansing the sins of the night. I lay prone on the grass, free of all troubles. A new day. I pick up the needle again "It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you," I said aloud and sunk deeper, ready to fly once more.

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