March Writing Prompts

March 11, 2023

Prompt: Write a story set in a grocery store.

Salvation.

"Sixteen."

"Dollars!?" Her voice echoed after the lady at the cash register scanned the drink she'd gone to pick up for her brother. 

The woman nodded, "Yes ma'am."

Jean's mouth had only ever been wider when she shoved a burger in it for the state fair contest. Sixteen dollars for a single drink was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard of in her life, but it was a necessity.

Her brother needed the drink because it was the only thing they'd come across that he could drink. Brent was allergic to absolutely everything and this was the one thing they had left to try. Extensive research had shown it was the only one without any of the ingredients in all other commercial foods and drinks.

I'm sure if we just moved to Europe, he'd be fine, she thought to herself. Instead, they had to stay and figure out the best way to keep him alive and healthy. 

"This is the one that everyone's been talking about, right? Knock-back?" Jean wanted to make sure.

The cashier nodded again, "Yep. Sixteen dollars, please. The line is building up and I get off in fifteen minutes."

There was no other choice at this point. She handed the twenty over, annoyed with the four dollars she got back in return. Her mother had stopped giving her money to help after having to finally start paying the doctor's bills back. 

Now, Jean had to assist the best way she could. Nineteen years old and supporting the house like another parent. Her father worked on the road as a trucker considering it was the best-paying job that he could find. Months had gone by since she'd seen him last, but he had to work as much overtime as he could in order to keep their family afloat.

"Thank you," she nodded, taking the bag out of the cashier's hand before turning to head out to her car. She hoped this drink would work, but at what cost? Sixteen dollars for a single bottle. If it did work, the strain on their finances would multiply immensely. 

Shoving her wallet back in her pocket, she looked up to see a group of men entering through the front door. For a moment, Jean was sure that her heart had skipped a few beats. It probably even stopped for a solid couple of seconds. 

The men that walked through gave her an uncanny valley feeling. Each one was well over six feet, their eyes felt just slightly larger than normal, and they all had hair in colors that only the best professionals could pull off. Five of them together felt like a pack of wolves entering a building they knew would submit to them immediately.

Looking around, she noticed that she wasn't the only one who had stopped in her tracks. The cashier, the people in line behind her, everyone had stopped when the men entered. What she hadn't realized was how close they had managed to get to her while she was checking everyone else out.

Her heart sank through her ass and into the hot center core of the earth when she looked up to see them hovering over her. They smelled of the earth like God had just breathed life into them the moment they stepped into the door. It was a calming smell, but it didn't help her fear of seeing their dark eyes staring down at her.

Before she could even manage to ask, the leader of the group who had now stood just inches away from her asked, "Are you Jean Herrington?"

The blood drained from her face, leaving it paler than ever. How did they know her name?

"Y-yes. Why?" she managed to stammer out. 

There was no answer. He nodded, grabbing her by one arm as another took her other. She tried to wiggle out, fearing for her life, but she stopped immediately when their grip tightened around her biceps. Her scream showed everyone there just how strong those men were.

"Where are you taking me?! Who are you?! What do you want from me?!" Questions were flying out faster than they could possibly answer.

She noticed the different language they spoke to each other as she quieted. It wasn't like anything she'd ever heard before. They grumbled and croaked in ways that she didn't know a voice was possible of communicating.

Sitting her down in the van, they tied her wrists down to the bars underneath her seat. "Your brother is Brent Herrington, correct?"

Her eyes shot around the van. Each one of the men was staring at her, waiting for an answer as she sat in silence. The more they knew about her, the scarier it felt. She couldn't possibly imagine what would put her in a situation where men like this would be after her.

Thoughts came up of her father. Had he done something to put them all in danger while he was gone? She knew he had a rough past, but she couldn't imagine that he'd ever do something to risk the lives of his family. 

"Speak," the man's voice raised just slightly. It was deeper now that they were outside of the supermarket. There was something he was hiding and it would start to unfold slowly in front of her. His voice deepened, eyes widened, ears pointed as she watched.

How he'd expected her to collect her thoughts as he released his earthly disguise she couldn't figure out. All she could manage was a nod to respond.

"You live at 57 Gladstone Lane?" he asked. Again, she nodded, still stunned by his appearance than continued to revert to his true form. "Wonderful. We'll be on our way home in no time, boys."

Neck extended, she gained her voice back, "Home?" 

The man next to her spoke, "Yes, home."

Looking over, her eyes shot open wide to take in all that he was. His whole disguise had faded now. Ears taller than the top of his head as well as eyes twice as big and twice as dark as her own. It shocked her to see this foreign being after only ever imagining them in movies.

"Your brother is the key to our salvation, and we are the key to his."