Writing Prompt 56

Commander Arral clapped Bast on the shoulder. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“You nervous, son?”

Bast looked back at his revival pod getting ready for him. “You’ll oversee the revival, right?”

“I wouldn’t let anyone else go near your pod.”

Bast nodded and smiled. “I’m ready.”

“Good boy,” Commander Arral said. “Now go die and save us all. Attaboy!”

Bast let out a cry and charged the advancing enemy.

“Are you actually planning to revive him, sir?” Captain Brega asked and followed Arral to the pod.

“Are you out of your mind, Captain?” Arral yanked all the cables out of the pod. “His pod malfunctioned.”

 

Writing prompt 53

I figured I had a go with a funny prompt this Sunday. Not my usual style, but why not? I think it’s suitable for fantasy and humour writers alike. I hope it helps you create some nice stories.

“Ouch! Ow! You punched me in the nose! That hurts, you know.”
“Get back!”
“What is the matter with you, human? I’m a friendly orc. Do you see me squashing your meaty parts ’til your eyes pop out? You wouldn’t like that, would you?”
“Die, demon!”
“Hey, I have feelings too, okay? Just ’cause I’m an orc, doesn’t mean your words don’t hurt me. Or my nose. Look how swollen it is now.”

Writing Prompt 52

Everyone around me panicked and ran and trampled each other to get out, go someplace safe. Fools. What difference would it make?
I noticed a woman at the other end of the bar eyeing me, calm as a meditating monk. I threaded my way to her. “Not running for your life?” I asked.
“Nope,” she replied.
“How come?”
“You know how.”
Could she be…? My surprise must have shown, ’cause she hid a chuckle behind a sip from her drink.
“Still,” I said, “the end of the world and all. This is my fifth end of the world and I’m still enjoying it.”
“Oh, you’re a child. How sweet.” Another sip of her drink. “I got bored after the twentieth. That was millions of years ago. These primates are no longer entertaining. However, this end comes too early. Your doing?”

 

Writing Prompt 51

“It’s not that bad,” Horace said.

“How would you know?” Anuk stabbed her finger on his chest. “You haven’t died a single time yet! Not once! Try dying a hundred thousand times, jumping from body to body, then tell me if it’s bad or not. Not so bad, he says… pfff!”

Horace opened and closed his mouth. His eyes glided over her. “Well, you look great in this body.” He smiled.

Anuk folded her arms and cast Horace a malevolent narrow glance. “You eye-grope me once more, I’ll show you how annoying death is right now.”