Count Dracula, no vampire, age 21, bored me with gruel crop statistics under his nineteenth-century dominion.
“Why’d you decide to take this persona?”
“This is no persona.” The Count bared Halloween store fangs. “You may fact-check me.”
“You think you’ll inspire copycats?”
“Undoubtedly. Becoming me grants immortality.”
The Count’s girlfriend, who completed an agricultural history doctorate, whispered into his ear; then he commemorated his reapers, who sowed grim, endless plains.
I’m old, sensing my mortality. Time to make peace with God. Time to cram for finals. Where’s that old invoice from the Piper? Where’s that farm for sale? How’d all these buckets get in my way? I don’t have to ask for whom the bell tolls. My whole life I’ve been -im instead of proper; plied instead of -im; and -im instead of patient. Now I’m mortal instead of -im.
Thank you mate! I wanted to go a bit lighter and I was just listening to a song called immortal, so it got the gears spinning haha. I'm not particularly wise myself haha
Aw, poor Bernie. At the beginning I thought he was just ultimately lucky haha, but then it sunk in he's actually immortal.
Side thought this would make for a banger of a promise. An immortal humann sent into space, because he can live through the time that it needs to get somewhere and come back... only for him to always come back to earth that is completely different than the one he left.
Thanks so much, Miguel. Poor Bertie, indeed! I too like that premise. These little micro-fictions create a great store of ideas for longer pieces when the time and opportunity arise!
I'll always maintain that humans are the most dangerous thing in most worlds, for if not the source of things, they're enablers of them. I think we're the true warrior race horde monster of fantasy
But this is one of those things that, now I'm look over it, I think could have communicated my intent a little better😅It's a small meditation on the non-existence of true immortality. But this dropped on the day my friend and I watch Highlander near my birthday so I kinda had to get in on it! I really need to do more of these.
There was little to be gleaned from the expression on his face, stoney, you’d call it.
“You’re an angel,” I said, half smiling. I stepped back to where the undergrowth had been cut back and the grass neatly trimmed.”I’ll remember you always.”
His face didn’t change. “You won’t. Not ‘immortal’. Nothing lasts for ever; this too shall pass.”
Immortal.." not subject to death.". Like that one embarrassing childhood memory of yours, you know, the one that's chained to your ankle. No matter how many times you crack open that cocoon of yours, or how many times you shed an old life and step into the fresh skin of a new one, well, that shame is always there, isn't it? Immortal. Shame immortal.
Carl had been told that he had outlived his usefulness. He was shoved out to pasture, had his pension denied, and his rent increased dramatically. His healthcare was a mess and his actuaries were among the most errored things he had ever seen.
Carl rose on his one hundred and tenth birthday and began his morning ritual, a swim in the East River followed by a walk through East Harlem.
Granz stood at the cemetery gate and sipped blood from his flask. The tang of iron slid across his tongue.
For a moment, he thought to leave this sad business behind. He always found human burial rituals absurd–trivial, even.
But not hers.
Granz closed his eyes, his heart aching, then shook his head.
No. He would look upon her once more.
There could be no mistaking it: bathed in a veil of moonlight slept an unmarked gravestone chipped and worn, all but reclaimed by millennia of overgrowth.
“Hello, darling.” He teased the smooth stone with his claws. “Sorry I’m late.”
Thanks! He's a new character and doesn't appear in any other writings, but he seems to mirror the Castlevania version of Dracula a bit now that I'm thinking more about it... minus the murder and vengeance against humanity, anyway, haha
I've been working with this theme for a while now. Book.
Immortal
Time flows differently in the ocean. For the sea people, a day can stretch to a lifetime. They always promise to come back. Just remember, they say, and wait. But between the tides of one world and the other, they forget, and who but they can wait forever?
The bed felt uncomfortable, the sheets too crinkly with their starch, the pillows didn’t support her neck.
It was almost time. She knew it. Everyone in the room knew it, her own gray haired kids, their kids with middle age spread and their kids in turn, some with a kid or two of their own. Somewhere, a baby cried.
You never really pass from this world until the last one forgets, achieving a fleeting immortality.
(A day late. Seems fitting for this prompt.)
Count Dracula, no vampire, age 21, bored me with gruel crop statistics under his nineteenth-century dominion.
“Why’d you decide to take this persona?”
“This is no persona.” The Count bared Halloween store fangs. “You may fact-check me.”
“You think you’ll inspire copycats?”
“Undoubtedly. Becoming me grants immortality.”
The Count’s girlfriend, who completed an agricultural history doctorate, whispered into his ear; then he commemorated his reapers, who sowed grim, endless plains.
PROMPT: IMMORTAL
THE GATE
We were all waiting at the gate.
A large group of us.
Transfixed by its alluring and tantalising presence.
Hoping we’d be called soon, so we could pass through it, and dance among the clouds.
It was going to be pure bliss.
Heaven.
If we could ever actually get on this holiday.
And not just remain at the airport.
Delayed… ✈️😎✈️
70 words: Immortal
I’m old, sensing my mortality. Time to make peace with God. Time to cram for finals. Where’s that old invoice from the Piper? Where’s that farm for sale? How’d all these buckets get in my way? I don’t have to ask for whom the bell tolls. My whole life I’ve been -im instead of proper; plied instead of -im; and -im instead of patient. Now I’m mortal instead of -im.
Love the wordplay in this one!
Frozen saag paneer last night. Half a butter chicken. Dumped the other half. Margarita times two. High as a church steeple. Bad day.
Today, get back on track. Out of bed, into the world.
Everybody wanting the impossible. Daughters to be sons. Sons to be daughters. Middle agers like me, to stay young forever. Scalpels for everyone!
Who would want to be immortal? I’d rather be thin. Thin is possible.
Hi Miguel, I love the grounded optimistic realism of your story. It's full of bliss-filled wisdom!
Thank you mate! I wanted to go a bit lighter and I was just listening to a song called immortal, so it got the gears spinning haha. I'm not particularly wise myself haha
70mg of Immortal:
After surviving three world wars and twelve pandemics, Bertie realised he was immortal.
Bullets skirted him, explosions grazed him, and radiation merely kissed his skin.
In peacetime, no pox, no hex, no bug seemed capable of felling him.
Of course, he should’ve kept his mouth shut.
Instead, they sent old Bertie Blabberguts on multiple space exploration missions.
Representing humankind’s last hope, he returned stronger each time—but lonelier than ever.
Aw, poor Bernie. At the beginning I thought he was just ultimately lucky haha, but then it sunk in he's actually immortal.
Side thought this would make for a banger of a promise. An immortal humann sent into space, because he can live through the time that it needs to get somewhere and come back... only for him to always come back to earth that is completely different than the one he left.
Thanks so much, Miguel. Poor Bertie, indeed! I too like that premise. These little micro-fictions create a great store of ideas for longer pieces when the time and opportunity arise!
Yup they sure do! It's a great way to dip your toes into an idea and check if you would like to expand on it
Immortal
"And you?" was asked the elven paladin.
"My kind may dwell upon the earth for all time, save by unnatural causes."
"And you?" was asked the vampire lord.
"I am undead. Mine shadow will only fade should I not feed."
"And you?" was asked the elder god.
"My fate is that of the cosmos."
"But upon each...an end looms..." said the human, a hint of horror in their voice.
It's funny how in many fantasy stories and worlds the puny humans are the most dangerous thing that is. Great story Sean!
I'll always maintain that humans are the most dangerous thing in most worlds, for if not the source of things, they're enablers of them. I think we're the true warrior race horde monster of fantasy
But this is one of those things that, now I'm look over it, I think could have communicated my intent a little better😅It's a small meditation on the non-existence of true immortality. But this dropped on the day my friend and I watch Highlander near my birthday so I kinda had to get in on it! I really need to do more of these.
Immortal - 70 words
“I’m mortal,” – a voice as old as rock.
There was little to be gleaned from the expression on his face, stoney, you’d call it.
“You’re an angel,” I said, half smiling. I stepped back to where the undergrowth had been cut back and the grass neatly trimmed.”I’ll remember you always.”
His face didn’t change. “You won’t. Not ‘immortal’. Nothing lasts for ever; this too shall pass.”
I wondered who’d put the statue there.
Is it a talking stone, or does our protagonist have a power to speak with inanimate objects?
Just don’t blink.
(May be a UK TV Dr Who thing.)
Immortal.." not subject to death.". Like that one embarrassing childhood memory of yours, you know, the one that's chained to your ankle. No matter how many times you crack open that cocoon of yours, or how many times you shed an old life and step into the fresh skin of a new one, well, that shame is always there, isn't it? Immortal. Shame immortal.
Haha. That's a great take. There are shameful memories that will live with me forever for sure
Carl had been told that he had outlived his usefulness. He was shoved out to pasture, had his pension denied, and his rent increased dramatically. His healthcare was a mess and his actuaries were among the most errored things he had ever seen.
Carl rose on his one hundred and tenth birthday and began his morning ritual, a swim in the East River followed by a walk through East Harlem.
Go Carl!
Till Death, My Dear
By J. Louis
Granz stood at the cemetery gate and sipped blood from his flask. The tang of iron slid across his tongue.
For a moment, he thought to leave this sad business behind. He always found human burial rituals absurd–trivial, even.
But not hers.
Granz closed his eyes, his heart aching, then shook his head.
No. He would look upon her once more.
There could be no mistaking it: bathed in a veil of moonlight slept an unmarked gravestone chipped and worn, all but reclaimed by millennia of overgrowth.
“Hello, darling.” He teased the smooth stone with his claws. “Sorry I’m late.”
That's amazingly vivid Josh! Is Granz a character of yours? 👀
Thanks! He's a new character and doesn't appear in any other writings, but he seems to mirror the Castlevania version of Dracula a bit now that I'm thinking more about it... minus the murder and vengeance against humanity, anyway, haha
70 Words - Immortal
I woke slowly, my senses exploding to life.
The world felt brand new—colors burned brighter, sounds were sharper, even the air carried scents I’d never noticed before.
My tongue brushed against my teeth, and I froze at the unfamiliar... elongated incisors.
A thrill shot through me.
I was different.
I felt stronger.
Hungry.
I was an Immortal.
The word whispered in my mind.
I smiled and stepped into the night.
Awesome description of a newly born vampire!
Thank you , Izzibella!
70 mg of immortal
The soul is a decentralized
system of awareness,
fractalizing endlessly
across timelines—
not in a straight line,
but like mycelium,
entangled through minds, animals,
machines, even dreams.
It never stays one thing
and knows itself by the pattern it leaves.
Immortality comes
from being witnessed:
when a moment with you
becomes a cornerstone in another.
Etched into them,
you echo onward.
The soul becomes a living,
breathing library of echoes.
Oh, I love that way of looking at things!
I've been working with this theme for a while now. Book.
Immortal
Time flows differently in the ocean. For the sea people, a day can stretch to a lifetime. They always promise to come back. Just remember, they say, and wait. But between the tides of one world and the other, they forget, and who but they can wait forever?
Really overdosed today. Eh, deal with it.
Immortal
The bed felt uncomfortable, the sheets too crinkly with their starch, the pillows didn’t support her neck.
It was almost time. She knew it. Everyone in the room knew it, her own gray haired kids, their kids with middle age spread and their kids in turn, some with a kid or two of their own. Somewhere, a baby cried.
You never really pass from this world until the last one forgets, achieving a fleeting immortality.
She closed her eyes.
No worries! A great story❤️ I have in the drafts with a similar promise