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8/15/2022 1:15:53 AM
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Writing prompt 3

There are three requirements for this one. (At least) Two characters One frying pan And a dodo bird. Go nuts

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  • Rough hands grabbed me and slammed me against a hard slab. The sack over my head was ripped away, and my eyes were filled with blackness. I struggled, I writhed against them, but their iron grips held me still as they restrained my feet and my chest and my head against the slab. They moved away, and for a moment, there was silence. Just me and the dark. Then, a click sounded, and my eyes stung as a brilliant blue flame blazed beneath the stove top. A cast iron frying pan rested atop. I could not look away from it. Slow, methodical footsteps thumped closer and closer in the dark as another marched toward me. In the shadow cast by the flame, I could see a hand. It flicked once, and I flinched as the pan hissed fiercely, devouring the pat of butter that had suddenly appeared on its surface. [i]"Do you know why you are here?"[/i] a thin, raspy voice whispered from behind my ear. "Y- yes," I whispered hoarsely back. The voice chuckled softly,[i] "I doubt that."[/i] I gulped, taking short, panicked breaths, watching the butter bubbled and spread across the frying pan, unable to look away. Fingertips, softer than goosedown pillows, gently stroked my neck. I thrashed against it, trying to pull away, away, as far and as high as I could, but the fingers never moved, and neither did I. They curled around a tuft on my neck, and with a wrench, yanked it away. Blood welled up at the wound, trickling down my neck, down my shoulders. "Please, please don't do this!" I pleaded, tears spilling from my eyes. [i]"It is time.[/i]" I barely noticed the pinprick on my neck, as tears streamed down my face. The frying pan blurred beneath my vision. My head felt woozy, and I coughed out a dribble of spit, as a wave of nausea overtook me. [i]"You are not ready," [/i] "No, no I am not," I slurred. [i]"It is of no consequence," [/i] I whimpered as two wedges of cold, sharp metal tightened around my limbs. Then, a horrible cracking noise, the noise of my own bones breaking against its horrible metal tools, and yet I could not feel the pain. Gushes of warm blood streamed down my side, and soon, a dead weight dropped from my body, leaving only the tingle of a forgotten feeling. There was the darkness; the frying pan; blood, sweat, and tears dribbling down my body; nausea, and worst of all, its horrible, rasping voice. [i]"We gave you a chance,[/i]" it purred, strutting around to my other side "I- I know!" I blubbered out "[i]But you failed us[/i]" "I only needed more time!" [i]"More time?"[/i] it chuckled again, [i]"You had enough time."[/i] Its shears tightened around my other limbs, as I sobbed, my cries drowning out the creaking and mangling of my bones. [i]"Do you remember trying to find the perfect spot for your home?" Crunch. "Do you remember trying to find the perfect materials for your home?" Crunch. "Do you remember trying to find the best things to eat around your home?" Crunch.[/i] The weight fell away. "I remember," I murmured, softly to the distorted vision of the frying pan. [i]"But you cannot remember finding the one thing we asked you to find, can you?" [/i] "I could've found one! I swear to you, I could have done it!" [i]"But you didn't"[/i] I fell silent. There was nothing more to say. My strength was gone. My blood was spilling away from my body. My mind was overwhelmed with nausea. My mouth hung open as I struggled to take short breaths in the space of the darkness. Done with its grisly task, it marched around to my front. I tried to crane my neck as its body slowly covered the burning frying pan. I could only see the handle when it spoke: [i]"Think of this not as an end, but as a sacrifice. Your name will be lauded throughout the greatest halls. Your body will be anointed by the greatest preparers. You will be surrounded by the most aromatic fragrances and herbs. The world's most dignified figures will be at a feast in your honor. All these things you wanted in life. Why is it that now you seem not to care?"[/i] "I would rather live," I stammered out. [i]“A shame, then. To lose what you value most when you believed you had everything.”[/i] The handle was covered by darkness. I heard a faint whoosh, and then, there was nothing.

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