Once upon a time, a bright-eyed youngster sat serenely by a campfire under a blanket of stars. The boy gazed skyward at the myriad of shining points of light and pondered about what lay out there beyond the skies. What if he could sprout wings this very instant and soar from this verdant earth to the heavens? What wondrous mysteries would he encounter? What illustrious answers would he unravel? What kind of awe-inspiring sights was he to find? Perchance they be potential friends waiting out there, or unimaginable horrors beyond this humble farm boy's comprehension?
Though he wondered and fantasised, he was cognisant of the fact that he could never leave his doting grandmother behind. Grandmother was after all, the boy's only real family; like all good protagonists, the young farm boy grew up an orphan - his parents having been slain when he was simply a babe by the hands of bandits. Or velociraptors. Or bandit velociraptors. Grandmother's account of what happened to his parents never did remain consistent or even coherent.
Speaking of his grandmother, she was surely due back to the campsite. Ever the outdoorswoman in spite of her age, his grandmother had purportedly left to catch some fish for supper. That had been hours ago, when the sun had yet to kiss the horizon. Were the fish particularly elusive this evening, or had her grandmother finally succumbed to the physical limits of age? In fact, why hadn't he accompanied her to go fishing? He had no particular aversion to the activity, and he had wielded a fishing rod before, albeit with limited proficiency.
Just then, the audible sound of leaves forcefully ruffling interrupted him from his thoughtful daze. Believing his grandmother had finally returned with the evening catch, the boy enthusiastically welcomed her return, "I'm starving, grandmother. But I'm also glad you're okay. You were away from a long ti-"
He swiveled his head around in keen anticipation to see his grandmother and -
Oh, I'm sorry, child. I must have wandered over to the wrong campsite.
RULES!
Welcome to this Halloween edition of our usual FFF writing event. If you've had a particularly traumatic childhood experience involving ghouls and creatures that go bump in the middle of the night, this is the event for you, so long as you're up for a spot of creative writing.
Though he wondered and fantasised, he was cognisant of the fact that he could never leave his doting grandmother behind. Grandmother was after all, the boy's only real family; like all good protagonists, the young farm boy grew up an orphan - his parents having been slain when he was simply a babe by the hands of bandits. Or velociraptors. Or bandit velociraptors. Grandmother's account of what happened to his parents never did remain consistent or even coherent.
Speaking of his grandmother, she was surely due back to the campsite. Ever the outdoorswoman in spite of her age, his grandmother had purportedly left to catch some fish for supper. That had been hours ago, when the sun had yet to kiss the horizon. Were the fish particularly elusive this evening, or had her grandmother finally succumbed to the physical limits of age? In fact, why hadn't he accompanied her to go fishing? He had no particular aversion to the activity, and he had wielded a fishing rod before, albeit with limited proficiency.
Just then, the audible sound of leaves forcefully ruffling interrupted him from his thoughtful daze. Believing his grandmother had finally returned with the evening catch, the boy enthusiastically welcomed her return, "I'm starving, grandmother. But I'm also glad you're okay. You were away from a long ti-"
He swiveled his head around in keen anticipation to see his grandmother and -
Oh, I'm sorry, child. I must have wandered over to the wrong campsite.
RULES!
Welcome to this Halloween edition of our usual FFF writing event. If you've had a particularly traumatic childhood experience involving ghouls and creatures that go bump in the middle of the night, this is the event for you, so long as you're up for a spot of creative writing.
- The theme for this event is: sleep paralysis.
- Your story must have Final Fantasy characters and/or Final Fantasy Forums members in a spoopy situation where they're left paralysed and terrified on their bed, staring silent and helpless at a sight so wicked and frightening that they're likely scarred for some time to come. The fiend haunting them can be anything. Diabolos. Seymour Guado dressed as a groom. A cackling Lalafell suspended from the ceiling. It can be whatever you want. It's your sleep paralysis story.
- As usual, the word count limit is 1,500 words. This doesn't mean you HAVE to hit close to 1,500 words. If you want to submit a short story in 500 words, you're very welcome to. I just don't want to see a novel submitted.
- Submit your entry to me either by PMs here or on Discord (Linnaete for both). Ideally send me a link to a Google Docs page or something.
- Deadline pending. As this event requires a lot more time and effort than most, we can be flexible with the final deadline. I'll post updates when necessary.
