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 w...
We are starting something a bit new this week. As the time goes by, you will notice that some of our prompts will be sponsored by other profiles! Isn't that exciting!? It totally is for us.
It's like a whole new world of possibilities and ideas opening up with a heavenly chorus and rays of sunshine and happiness. What other news could ever match this feeling of excitement?
See? We don't always have to be dark and spooky. We just choose to. So let's rephrase that.
It's like a whole new dimensional realm of infinite realities opening up with drums quickening to the pace of an already panicked heart rhythm. There are flashes of uncertainty with a range of emotions, but the one thing and only explainable feeling is fear. Fear of the unknown.
There we go. Supernatural. That's more like it.
Alright let's get to it!
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Hello there! This week, we'll be featuring a picture prompt. If you're new to our prompts, do keep in mind that you're allowed to interpret our prompts in any manner you see fit - be it literal or figurative. And if our prompts inspire you to write a brand new story, you're more than welcome to incorporate it in your own story. For more information, check out our guidelines below!
Zoe jolted awake, wrestled from the clutches of despair that haunted her night after night. Beads of sweat formed, dotting her hairline. Reaching for the phone on the nightstand, she met with an unwelcome revelation—3 am. The witching hour. She sighed with defeat, 'Incredulous.'
Closing her eyes in frustration, she pondered why this nightly torment persisted. As sleep continued to evade her, her eyes roved around the darkened room, faint remnants of light filtering through the door's edges.
Shuffling about, adjusting her pillow for comfort, a sound resounded—a latch unlocking from somewhere nearby. Could it be her bedroom door? No way. Narrowing her eyes, dread enveloped her as the door creaked open with an almost hissing sound.
Fixed in place, she watched as the door stood half-open, admitting a faint yellow light from the hallway where a hooded figure lurched. A hesitant whisper escaped her lips, 'Mum?'
Silence swallowed her stomach as the figure advanced. Her heart pounded like a drum, beating louder with each passing moment. The putrid stench of rot and decay assaulted her senses as it drew closer, closer, closer.
Hatred surged within her, accompanied by disturbing thoughts—an odd satisfaction in the idea of committing heinous acts. What was this thing doing to her?
Raising a bony arm to where its mouth should be, it gestured, 'Shh.' Its hand fell over Zoe's mouth, smothering her. Terror surged through her veins as she gasped for breath, eyes widened in fear. Her heart raced, attempting to escape this tormentor, yet her limbs lay still, as if crushed beneath a boulder.
On the verge of darkness, the figure abruptly withdrew. A low chuckle lingered, revelling in her torment as it dissipated into the depths of darkness once more. The room, now silent, held remnants of the encounter, leaving Zoe paralysed with fear.
Sarah writhed and twisted as she dreamt, her bedsheets in a tangled mess about her. Screaming, she practically leapt out of bed and ran into the bathroom across the hall, quickly setting the lights to their brightest setting. Taking a deep breath, Sarah managed to slow her breathing and gathered her scattered thoughts, cursing under her breath as she realized the cause of her distress. Her idiot brother had convinced her into watching Revenge of the Sith, somehow forgetting to warn her about Anakin's fate, even though she had been badly burned in a car accident two years prior. Deciding to give her brother a piece of her mind, Sarah made her way to the kitchen, planning to prepare a refreshing drink of ice water for him.
As she reached the threshold, however, the hall lights turned on, followed by the sound of footsteps. Sarah peered into the hallway, finding the bedroom doors closed and no one in sight. Remembering she had left the door to her bedroom open, Sarah narrowed her eyes and briefly returned to the kitchen, tip-toeing down the hall a moment later with a frying pan in hand. As Sarah neared her bedroom door, the hall lights flickered off and a seperate light appeared beneath her bedroom door, which slowly swung open with a quiet creak. Backlit by a disembodied light, a cloaked figure laughed as lightning flashed outside the windows, though the night had been calm up until that point.
Sarah raised her frying pan in a meager attempt at self-defense, her heart pounding in her chest as the hooded figure laughed and said in a gravelly voice, "The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural, my dear."
The lightning outside seemed to bend to his will, racing towards Sarah and hitting her with such force that her back arched as she fell to the ground...
...Sarah sat up in bed, breathing hard. Looking around, her bedroom was dark once more, the door slowly swinging shut as the hall lights flickered like lightning.
