Have you found yourself stuck in the middle of a particularly bad writer's block? Need a dose of inspiration? Or are you simply looking for some creativity to kick-start your newest novel? Then look no further!
Paranormal Prompts aims to bring you...
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Welcome to our fourth prompt! This week, we're featuring a picture prompt. You are allowed to interpret the prompt literally or figuratively, provided that there is a clear link between the prompt and your entry. Remember that all entries must be submitted via the comments section below!
PICTURE PROMPT
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WINNERS:
Please note that winners are not listed in any specific order.
The carnival had been fun. The fair food was too sugary, the rides all small and generic, but it was fun. I had gone with my friends, two boys who live a few blocks from me.
One of them had decided to try out the Psychic Reader, a booth tucked in the corner. He had taken some extra cash, courtesy of me, and went in. I waited outside with my other buddy.
When he came out, he was shivering, eyes wide and afraid. "Isaiah," he said, voice wavering. "She wants to see you."
I narrow my eyes at him, thinking this was a prank. I go in anyway, wanting to see how a psychic tent looked on the inside.
There were posters of clowns and medieval card sets taped clumsily to the wall, a purple curtain wrapped around a chair in the centre of the tent. There was a certain smell, horrid, almost unbearable. The woman in the chair looked up.
Her eyes were the same purple as everything else in the tent, a dark violet. Her lips were red, some of the lipstick smeared around her lips. She let out a hiss, like a snake.
"Yes," she purred. "You are the one I want." She bared her teeth, shining white canines caked with fresh blood. Bits of flesh stuck to her gums.
She lunged forward, sinking her teeth into my neck. I tried to scream, but only choked and gurgled on the metallic liquid filling up my mouth. Blood trailed out of my lips, and I collapsed. Her eyes flowed purple, smoke circling around her legs.
"Your blood will satisfy me. Such a tasty morsel. Come now, dear. Scream for me."
The woman sat at the booth and watched all of the happy faces that walked around the carnival grounds. She never got why people came. All night she had to cater to kids and adults that wanted their fortune told. Sometimes being told by the occasional guest that she was wrong. She knew she was. The woman hated it. She didn't even get paid that much. Well, she didn't really get paid at all. She was just surprised that nobody found her yet. It was the perfect hideout. She was just part of the crowd.
The woman kept her money in the bag and looked down at the gun propped up behind the stand.
She might not have been an actual psychic, but she did know that these people were going to regret coming tonight. Guaranteed.
The gate was closed and locked, and the glowing red from the neon sign advertising a psychic reader shone brightly behind it. The man standing in the rain within the shelter of his dark coat and hat smiled. The psychic must've had real ability if she'd sensed him coming, but an iron gate wasn't enough to keep him out.
He pulled his clawed hand out from his pocket and attempted to take hold of the ironwork, but a field of violet lines and glyphs appeared in a wall of magical energy. The barrier was as smooth as glass and unbreakable, or at least, unbreakable at the time. The man put his hand back in his pocket where the few people wandering the streets this night wouldn't be able to see it.
From under the brim of his hat, sulfurous yellow eyes narrowed. The psychic had eluded him for the time being, but he would find a way in, and he would find the talisman.
