Writing Prompt: "Princess of the Damned"

          Okay so basically this blog is for me that others may read. I spend at least an hour on each prompt then go back and edit it then post it. If I come back to it I come back to it but if I don't then oh well. I have so many stories in my head and get depressed if I don't write something so this is more therapy for me. Enjoy!

    Write about a princess (or prince) who returns to their castle to find it... empty. Is their castle the same way they left it, or has it changed? And worst of all what would this character do if they saw a strange, shambling creature walking towards them?

Princess Fia Marietta walked into the castle that was her home but it was not as she had left it. She rubbed her eyes as if she were still in a dream. She had only just been here. Fia stepped out of the castle to follow the lights just last night and then dawn came. Fia found herself asleep in the middle of the olive grove and saw that the sun had already began its journey through the sky. Afraid that her family was sick with worry she quickly ran towards her home but it looked in shambles as if 100 years had gone by. 

Inside the place was over taken by ivy vines and a few bushes. Paintings were broken, some had fallen off the wall, the tables broken, rotted from age and there was no finery to be seen; all the silver and gold was gone, taken by thieves. There was no one to be seen either. There were holes in the structure that let in streams of golden light. It was all silent except for the birds that chirped their happy songs and a few furry creatures like foxes and squirrels that had made their home here. Fia saw a rabbit hop by her. It eyed her curiously with its black eyes. It was the only friendly face that Fia had seen since she came home... If this was indeed home. 

Fia walked around the castle ruins finding familiar rooms that were ravaged by time. Fia found a few scars on the stones from a siege it seemed. Before Fia left the castle there was peace between the dukes. What had happened here? Fia came to the main ball room where parties were held and her father held court with his councilors. His throne was no where to be found. All that was left was a small staircase platform made of stone. Fia climbed the small steps and sunk low to sit on the platform. Tears formed in her eyes. She kept pinching herself to wake up. This is a nightmare. Had to be! Just as she was pinching her arm raw, Fia noticed that the birds had stopped singing. It was deathly quiet. Suddenly there was a low rumble, a growl almost. A wolf? No. A mix between a wolf and a lion. Fia remembered that her father kept exotic pets and the lion was his favorite attraction although their emblem was the black dog. 

Fia lifted her head slowly up to see a large black, shaggy creature with red glaring eyes watching her from the shadow of the hallway. It looked like a lion from a distance but as it approached closer, it resembled a big shaggy dog. It's foot steps made no sound as if it weren't really touching the ground. But she heard its growl. Fia had heard of hell hounds. The Devil's dogs mean death and drag their victims to hell's embrace. Fia crawled away quickly almost falling back and rolling off the small staircase. There was a large piece of wood by her. She grabbed the stick despite it's heaviness and waved it at the creature.

"Stop! Don't come any closer, devil!" Fia cried out with all of the courage she could muster. The creature did not stop its approach. It was not deterred by Fia's threats nor her big stick. Nevertheless Fia was ready to fight. No one in her family ever ran from a fight, not even against the devil. The creature looked even bigger as it came closer, as tall as Fia's father who was a man who towered over any man. It stopped its low growl.

"HALT!" Fia shouted.

With that the beast stopped. It stood at the bottom of the platform. It stared at her with its red eyes. Fia closed her eyes. Her entire person trembling like a leaf in the wind as she listened to the beast's breathing. Then it ceased. She slowly blinked her eyes open to see that the beast had gone. She was alone... 
     

Writing Prompt: "Daggers in the Dark"

         This blog is for me that others may read. I spend at least an hour on each prompt then go back and edit it then post it. If I come back to it I come back to it but if I don't then oh well. I have so many stories in my head and get depressed if I don't write something so this is more therapy for me. Enjoy!

         Write about a character who happens to be the next person in line for the throne... except they do not wish to be crowned. Why is this? Are they afraid they would fail? Or (worst of all) are they afraid of their siblings who would do anything to wear the crown.

Prince Nemo sat on the steps before the statue of Athena. She stood proud on her pedestal with her spear straight and ready and her shield before her. She sat the shield in front of her. Athena's greatest defense and offense was her cleverness. She reminded Nemo of his mother. A queen in her own right after her husband died. Queen Astra of Athens was regent for Nemo until he came of age. They said she would not survive the night. Nemo need only to be crowned. He could feel it already, crushing his skull with it's weight. He wished he was born a girl then he would be last in line. His older sisters: Jacintha, Berenice, Olena, and Sapphira would be first with their husbands. Nemo was only 17 years old. Just shy of his 18th birthday and the age where he did not need a regent. 

Nemo wanted to hide in a dark hole or run away and let the council and his sisters deal with the kingdom. All Nemo was good at was poetry. Writing ballads about the gods and their hero offspring. Just as Nemo was about to allow his despair to consume him he felt a warm hand touch his shoulder.

"You spend more time in this temple than the priestesses," old Panduras's cheerful voice was like a babbling brook, a falling laughter that always brightened the room. Nemo rubbed the approaching tears from his eyes so as not to appear like a sniveling child but old wise Panduras could see through any charade.

"I myself have been in here," he went on, "once all night. That was when I was to marry my wife."

"Didn't you have 3 wives, Pandarus?" asked Nemo curiously.

Panduras's brow furrowed. His mouth comically pouty.

"Hm... I think it was wife number 2," Panduras mused. "Meleda... not as sweet as honey as her name means but what a wild cat in the bed chamber."

Nemo smiled. Panduras rested his old bones on the steps of the Athena statue, his walking stick resting against his shoulder so he could be on the level of the troubled Nemo. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"I don't want to be king..." Nemo finally whispered fearing the goddess would hear his cowardice.

"You were king since you were 11 years old," reminded Panduras. 

"Mother ruled..."

"And you don't think you can accept such a responsibility."

Nemo nodded ruefully. Astra was more a king than a queen. She had the wisdom and ruthlessness. She ruled with the iron rod, fending off all invaders but also making many enemies at court. She was a woman after all and only men were seen fit to rule.  

"The moment I sit on that throne is the moment I will be murdered in my sleep," cried Nemo in despair. "In any case I would ruin this city!"

Panduras rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. Nemo turned to his old Mentor eyes misty and the old man smiled kindly. 

"You will have advisors to help you," Panduras soothed. "And besides as much as I respect your mother I believe Athens needs a gentler king. One ruled by reason."

"But I'm afraid!" Nemo cried. "How can I rule if I'm always afraid?"

"A man who wants to rule will become a despot, but a man who does not want to rule becomes a great king. You fear the consequences of your actions, you do not want to make people suffer, and you will do what you believe is right for your people never yourself." Panduras smiled. "That is a true king. And you will become a great king, my boy."

"Will you be there to help me?" Nemo sounded hopeful. 

"For a long time, the gods willing..."

"That may not be very long," Jacintha's voice always felt like a mountain breeze; chilly and frigid coming from on high. Nemo always shivered when his older sister entered a room. Just like mother, Jacintha had a regal presence. Her eyes cold and calculating. Berenice was never far behind. They were thick as thieves. Sure enough Berenice followed her her sister's train, eyes dark and full of envy. Her eyes always glittered when she found something she desired and it would always become hers. Berenice once pinched Nemo's nose until it turned red and numb all for a horse carving their father had made for him. 

"Praying to the goddess, Athena?" Jacintha inquired her voice like a needle. 

"I pray for wisdom... sister," Nemo spoke meekly. 

"You will need it," sneered Berenice with acid humor. 

"Perhaps you have come to seek her guidance as well, princesses," chided Panduras his voice rough like stone, "to help you in the future."

"Careful, old goat," Jacintha warned. "You are here solely because of my mother's fondness for you." Jacintha always hated Panduras. She would call him names and mistreat him. He was a slave who happened to know words. She never tired of reminding him of his place.

"If I were king I would have had you whipped and starved you in the dungeon like the flea bitten dog that you are," confessed Jacintha.

"I am but a humble servant at the royals' mercy," Paduras spoke mockingly. Jacintha turned up her nose at the old man. She gave her brother a glaring look and said, "Be careful who you trust, baby brother. There's more to being a ruler than blood. You may need me in the future." Then she turned and left with Berenice close behind and young Nemo trembling. He could already feel the knife to his throat. 

Writing Short: "Music Box Mystery"

        This blog is for me that others may read. I spend at least an hour on each prompt then go back and edit it then post it. If I come back to it I come back to it but if I don't then oh well. I have so many stories in my head and get depressed if I don't write something so this is more therapy for me. Enjoy!

      Write about a character who returns home to find a strange music box on their doorstep. What is this character's first reaction as they notice the item? Do they recognize the music box at all? Or, worst of all, could it be that they recognize who made it? 

AND

Use the line to start: Sometimes we survive by forgetting. 

Sometimes we survive by forgetting. It's the mind's way of helping the body heal after a trauma. To help it recover quicker. Some secrets are best kept buried. So deep that they cease to even exist. But there are times when they seep through. Anything could trigger it: an object, a word, a sound, even a scent could bring it bubbling up from the depths of memory like an ugly creature resurfacing from beneath the mud. And you relive the horrible memory all over again.  

"Why don't you want a party?" Ray pulled into the gravel driveway, his knuckles white from gripping the wheel. 

"I told you, Ray," Marya concentrated more on the hem of her dress. There was a thread coming loose. Blue flowers pattern on a creamy white background. 

"That reason doesn't make sense," Ray complained.

"I'm just...," Marya grumbled, "not that into my birthday. I don't know what else to say."

Ray turned to Marya, "You could give me a better reason..."

Marya sighed, "Why is it such a big deal? Turning 30 isn't something women like to celebrate anyway."

"At least let's just have a small get together," Ray begged. Why did she have to fall in love with a man who loved celebrating things? Marya let go of the thread in exasperation, "Fine. One small dinner."

"House or restaurant?" Ray beamed.

"You pick," Marya couldn't help but smile a little. 

Marya and Ray got out of their ruby red ford car. 

"I can't believe I let you buy this new model in red," Marya made a side note. 

"I like red," Ray defended.

"It's showy," Marya countered. "A horse and buggy would have been less conspicuous."  

"Hey this is 1948, the 20th century and every red-blooded American owns a car."

Marya laughed, "Honestly..." Marya's smile faded quickly when she turned around to see what was sitting there on the front step, what was waiting for her...

"What's that?" Ray went past a dumbstruck Marya to the object on their door step. It was a golden cage with a small black glass bird inside. Ray inspected it to see that on one side was a key. He turned it then let go and the bird began turning and singing: "Bye Bye Blackbird". 

"Must be a birthday gift. But from who?" Ray searched for a card. There wasn't one. Marya snapped out of her stupor and took the music box away. Ray wondered, "You know who it's from?"

"No...," Marya lied. "I'll get dinner started." Marya rushed to the door, fumbling with the keys. Ray went to help but Marya quickly pulled away. The look in her eyes was that of a frightened animal ready to bite at the next person that dared to come near. Ray held his hands up in surrender and unlocked the door for her. She was always a bit closed off but this made Ray scratch his head. 

     Marya was alone in the dining room with the music box. Ray was asleep upstairs. Dinner was a little burnt but he didn't complain. He knew whenever Marya got rattled she needed some space to recollect herself. He was always there to greet her when she came out of her hole. 

      Tomorrow was her birthday. It was no coincidence that this thing came just before her 30th birthday. It's been 16 years and the wounds became scars... until she saw something she never thought she'd see again and it were as if something cut open those very scars and they were oozing blood once again. There was no card. None that could be seen. 

Marya felt around the object. Then with gentle force pulled the bottom off. Sure enough there was a piece of folded paper. She opened it. All the note read was: Fountain in park. Noon. 

The shock that was once a sheet of ice began to harden into armor. Marya felt numb all over. She messaged her wrists at the memory. She could still feel the coldness of the rusty manacle. Their weight. The clink of the chains as she walked and when he came down stairs and held her down then... Marya shut the memory out like shutting a Pandora's box. Marya shot up from her chair as she shut the Pandora's box. Her chair fell back making a thumping noise. Marya breathed in and out to try and get her heart back to a regular pace. Her eyes closed as the room was spinning. Her hands clenched. She swallowed to keep the bile down. She would do that before when he locked her in the cellar. She would close her eyes and imagine herself somewhere else. Even when she heard his heavy footsteps making the wooden stairs creak...

Marya felt a hand on her shoulder. She rounded on the Man and punched him hard in the nose. 

"Marya!" The voice was Ray not the Man's. Marya realized where she was with horror at what she had just done.

"Ray?" Marya rushed to her husband and helped him to his feet. His nose was bleeding a little. "I'm so sorry. So sorry." Marya was frantic.  

"It's okay...," Ray held his nose. "I should know better than to sneak up on a lady... It's not broken..."

"Why are you down here?" Marya helped Ray into a chair.

"I could ask you the same thing," Ray retorted with no real malice. 

"You startled me is all...," Marya excused. 

"Right..."

Marya went to the kitchen and put a wash cloth under the cold water. She came back and began dabbing Ray's nose. After getting most of the blood they sat in silence. Marya was focused on Ray's bloody nose but Ray looked into her eyes seeing that wild injured animal again. 

"You know I never asked you about your past," he mentioned. "Always thought it was rude."

Marya avoided his gaze, her eyes cast down. She held the cloth in her lap as if it were a life line. 

"I'm still not gonna ask," Ray whispered. He held out his hand for her. She stared at it. Then she touched it. Ray squeezed it gently which made the darkness inside her ebb greatly. Ray's touch was always warm. Like the sun. "You know I'm always here, right?"

"I know...," Marya placed her other hand over his. The night seemed less frightening now holding Ray's hand.