Writing Prompts (Over One Hundred)

Writing Prompts 57

     A scream rocketed off the walls of the cavern. Emma cowered in the shadows. She could almost picture the blood dripping from her lifeless subjects. Red, flowing, warm, crying, bright, scarring, death.

     It was a hideous word. Death. It described loss. Emma shuddered. She didn't want to think about that right now. It was all his fault. By his fault she meant Death's. This had all come to pass because she had met death without dying. She angrily stamped her feet, but abruptly stopped, fearing that he would hear her.

     Her heart raced. The sounds had stopped. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard. But she wouldn't fall for it. She wouldn't allow him to find her so easily.

     Her legs began to cramp. Her muscles began to ache. No, she told herself, don't give up now. You've come this far. She clenched her teeth as pins and needles set in.

     She gasped aloud at the sudden pain in her abdomen. And, beside that, she needed to use a chamber pot. Or at least a makeshift something of the sort.

     Emma screwed her eyes tightly closed. She began to fist her hands till they wrinkled the bits of her cloak that were held within them. She began to attempt to breathe deeply, but quietly.

     That was a terrible idea. She fought the urge to sneeze. Then she almost peed her pants. Then she sneezed, simultaneously fell over, smacked her head on the wall and just barely managed not to pee right then and there.

     Dust from the wall shook all over her till she was covered in a fine layer. She quickly attempted to stand. Oh no. She could hear footsteps. She haphazardly tried to yank her asleep legs so that they would work again. At one point she managed to make it to her knees. Then she fell over again.

     As a shadow, dark as night, dressed in a black cloak so like her own, walked through the opening, she nearly screamed. Then she began to whimper. Her legs weren't working. And she had made it so far! Then hot, angry tears scalded her cheeks. The funny thing was, Death almost looked concerned.

     He smirked. "What happened to you?"

     Emma slammed her fist against floor. She tried to choke out some words but they wouldn't come. Death loomed over her. Then she couldn't take it anymore. She burst into tears.
 
     She yelled at him, "I can't move, and I have to use the loo, and my head hurts! How could you do this to me?!" And she sobbed pathetically into her arms. She wouldn't look at him. But he picked her up, she was certain to drop her to her doom, but instead he carried her to the grove.  He gruffly told her to use the nature as a loo and get over it, but when she fell to the ground due to sleeping limbs, they say there for a moment. And waited. And waited. There was no way Death was helping her go to the bathroom. Eventually she was able to stand, and then she did her business, making sure Death wasn't looking at her. Then she quickly wiped her tears away and braided her hair back.

     Then she ran, and ran. It would've been all good if she hadn't tripped over the tree root. But she did, and she smacked painfully to the ground. Death caught up to her within milliseconds and looked at her as she lay on the ground. She was nursing her ankle. Silent tears traced tracks down her cheeks.  He felt kind of bad for her. She ignored him.

Take it from here!

This is to make up for that lame excuse of  a prompt from earlier haha, vote and comment and etc. . . Thanks!

Payton Janae :).