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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Hello everyone and thanks for joining us on our brand new word promp! Remember that you can interpret the prompt in any manner you see fit, be it literal or figurative, provided that there is a clear link between your entry and the prompt below. You are also free to use our prompts as inspiration for a new or existing story! For more information, check the guidelines below.
WORD PROMPT:
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WINNERS:
Please note that winners are not listed in any particular order. To read the rest of the wonderful entries, check the comments section below!
I had been taught not to approach the coast beaten by the waves.
"The sea is insidious, the sea is cruel."
And I had never disregarded the village olders's impositions.
It was said that I have been found, wrapped in seaweeds, on the sandy shore, sheltered by the rocky cave. Murmurs. Nobody knew I really came from and now I had grown enough to see the differences that separated me from them and their mistrustful looks no longer hurt me.
I kept my words and I remained on the dank earth; nathless, that swirling expanse, thundering and vibrant of life, seemed to attract me more every day. It called me.
For years I had watched fishermen set sail on pirogues or dive into the waves, as if sucked into the mysteries of the unknown seabed. The harpoons firmly in the fist.
For years I had seen them come back, each time full of riches stolen from the depths.
But from time to time, the sea claimed its price and then the pirogues withdrew on the long sandy furrows and pyres were lit on the salt shore.
Songs rose powerful towards the night sky, towards the dark sea muttering in the white undertow on which the glimmers of the fires that burned the fragrant timbers were reflected. Seeking protection, or revenge.
As I watched them, a new perception grew in my chest.
The complacency for the mightiness of the abysses and for the smallness of those weak and fearful creatures who invoked the Spirits for a power they would never have possessed.
The power to subjugate the vast sea.
And, when the night descended on the world and everything calmed down in the warmth of sleep, and I remained curled up on the straw mat, the call made its way into my consciousness.
In the rustle of the undertow I heard.
Waves told of ancient times, unfathomable abysses, lost knowledge.
And now that I recognize the call, my true nature, while my people emerge from the dark waters and observe the torn bodies of humans lying at my feet, I welcome my heritage.
Darkness is all I have ever known. I got used to it, but what I can never get used to is the loneliness. All alone in these murky waters, all I ever wanted was a friend.
Everyone needs someone, and I am not an exception. Although I live at the bottom of the sea, I am quite a friendly creature. I love making new friends and learning about the world above me.
It is captivating for me, the world of light and color. The same one I've heard a few sea creatures that do manage to reach me talk about, and it makes me wonder.
How does it feel to be in the light of day, to see all those colors they are all so fascinated by?
Don't get me wrong, I love my home, but sometimes I just need a friend to share my thoughts with. I need someone to listen to me rant about the beauty of my home and to satiate my curiosity about the outside world.
The problem is, I am still a predator, it's in my nature. Therefore, every time I do encounter a new friend to spend my time with, I end up devouring them. I don't mean to, but the flesh of other beings is so utterly delicious, I can't control myself.
The hunger grows inside me until it is all I can think about, all I am. Then, I slaughter my friends and feed on them until I am finally full. Only then do I realize that I am all alone again and more desperate than ever.
I know what you are thinking, but I am not on a prowl for new victims, I am looking for friends. It's not my fault that they always become the victims of my overwhelming hunger. My very nature is to blame.
Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I am always shrouded in darkness. Maybe that's why my soul craves to take another's life as much as my body needs the nourishment.
What is the difference between a friend and a victim when one is bound to turn into another? As soon as the power of dark and gloomy sea depths overrules the more tender instincts in my being the line becomes blurred.
Scientists say that they don't know what's at the bottom of the Mariana Trench. You really believe that? With all the new technology that had been introduced in this world? Maybe what they discovered isn't supposed to be shown to the public
2005
George Levanter was a scientist who was set out to discover the Mariana Trench, one of the most mysterious places on this earth. He was well prepared, a camera was placed on his submarine.
"George, are you ready?" asked his fellow colleague. He nodded vigorously while he entered his submarine.
After a while, the submarine was ready to go.
Deeper and deeper, the fish were such a great sight to see.
Deeper, it has become darker, there were less fish.
Deeper, the light was completely gone, the submarine's flashlight was now used.
Deeper, deeper, deeper. . . George was now at the bottom of the trench, he got an eerie feeling about this. There was something moving around. It swam closer and closer to the submarine.
"I won't hurt you dear. " The creature said. It looked like a mermaid, except it wasn't close to being beautiful. It had bulging eyes and sharp teeth.
CRACK
Let's just say, George never lived to tell the tale.
