Image-based Writing Request (OPEN)

[kaleidofish]

This sounds like fun, I have this picI did last year I think

I leave it to your imagination
btw "bien bien bien" means "fine fine fine" or "good good good"

I got really carried away with this story...as in over 2000 words carried away. XD Hope you like it!

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Fine, Fine, Fine

Nothing changed in the classroom when Maria Diaz went missing. It was as if she'd never been there, sitting in her spot in the corner where the teachers couldn't rescue her from the other kids. Whomever said words never hurt was a liar in denial. Maria would have preferred the sticks and the stones. A broken psyche doesn't mend as cleanly as bone.

"Yo, Clarissa, wake up." Before she could turn in the direction of his voice, Sam punted a paperclip right into her forehead.

"What was that for? I was totally awake already." She whined. Mrs. Benson wasn't even finished her lesson yet. The fat witch was still writing math equations on the blackboard, oblivious to everyone snickering about how her ass was so big it didn't even look connected to her back. Mrs. Benson was gross; math was stupid. Clarissa was bored. Typical school day.

Sam grinned that imperfect grin of his. He needed braces. "If anyone would have invented a way to see through their eyelids, I guess it'd be you."

"Yeah, you guessed right. I'm a millionaire and everything. Worship me," Clarissa stuck out her tongue. "Can you text Ellie for me? I don't wanna take the bus home today."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because my Mom took my phone away for something dumb. Just text her." She thought for a second. "Oh, and Ryan, too. We can all go to the movies after school or something."

"So, basically, text everyone except Dave. Got it." Sam said. Clarissa grimaced hearing his name.

"Dave's dead to me."

Clarissa, Sam, Ellie, and Ryan. In her mind, the four of them ran the school. Dave used to be part of the gang, until he decided it was a good idea to get involved with that Mexican chick Maria. Stupid! It was his mess that they had to deal with. His fault that Maria lost her footing on the well's edge. His fault that she'd become a pile of bones and fle
STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

The five of them swore themselves to secrecy. It had been two weeks since then. It seemed like the police had given up on searching for her. She wasn't even a legal citizen. Somebody had smuggled her into a town where she didn't belong. Who cared about freaking Maria Diaz? Clarissa didn't, and that's why they had to bury the issue.

They filled the abandoned well with random stuff so no one would be any wiser.

Sure, they could have told someone that Maria fell, but they didn't want to get arrested for her mistake. Ellie was on her way to an Ivy league school. Sam had his family's construction business to worry about. Ryan was a baseball star. Dave was Dave - he was out of the group, but he was smart in his own goofball way. And, Clarissa was going to be a famous cellist.

They couldn't let Maria Diaz taint their futures. No one needs that kind of stuff on their record. Even being associated with the dead body would have made them look bad.

That night, Clarissa got a call from Stupid Dave Stupidboy (that was his new name on her phone).

"What is it?" She hissed. He'd interrupted a good episode of 16 and Pregnant.

"I know you're not talking to me anymore," his voice got quiet. "But, I think we have to tell someone about Maria."

"Don't say her name, you idiot!" Clarissa slammed her bedroom door closed so no one could listen in. "It's not like we pushed her in. It was your fault she was dancing on the well."

"I wasn't the one who kept spraying her with perfume. I wasn't the one who splashed the water on her. Iwasn'ttheonewhokeptyellingathertodance." The more he talked, the faster he went.

"Shut up! She loved every second of it. I asked her cómo estás, and she said bien. She said bien, bien, bien, over and over again! That's Spanish for good, you dumb ass." She screamed at him. "You invited her to hang out with us. It's your fault she's dead, not ours!"

"You guys didn't leave her alone. We're not safe from her. She keeps texting me!"

"You know what, Dave? I don't give a shit about your stupid jokes. Go ahead and tell the cops. We'll pin everything on you. It's four against one. Congratulations, goodbye." She ended the call.

Dave didn't show up to school the next day. Clarissa met with the others at lunch time. She told them about the phone call and how scared he sounded.

"It's guilt, that's all," Ellie decided. "He thought too much about it and he cracked."

"I know, right?" Clarissa smiled, glad to have her for back-up.

"Do you think he'll really tell anyone?" Ryan scratched the side of his neck. Nervous habit. He always did that right before he went up to bat on the field.

"He must have been bluffing." Clarissa knew he was too chicken to do it. As soon as he opened his mouth, they would have him in jail. "Besides, he was the one who told her to hang out with us. None of us have her number."

"Hey, Sam, are you okay?" Ellie asked. Sam hadn't eaten any of his food. He was 200 pounds too late to start dieting, so that was weird.

"Someone keeps texting me this," Sam slid his phone across the lunch table. "It's not funny."

Clarissa grabbed the phone first. The message said, "bien bien bien."

Ryan was the first to say what they were all thinking. "Dave."

"I'm calling him right now." No one answered the first time she called. Then, as soon as he did, Clarissa shouted right into the receiver. "Not cool, Dave! You've got another thing coming if you think it's okay to mess with us. You're not safe. When you get back to school, we're going to make your life a living hell."

"Mine already is," a woman answered.

"Huh? Who's this? Mrs. W?"

"David's mom. He killed himself last night."

"...What? Why? Did he say anything?"

Ryan, Sam, and Ellie looked at each other in confusion. Clarissa waved at them to be quiet.

"He wanted to get away. I-I don't know... Thank you for being his friend, Clarissa." She hung up.

We're not safe from her. What Dave said a few nights before popped into Clarissa's head. Did the guilt eat away at him that badly? She sucked in her lip to keep from crying. Clarissa had to stay strong. Cry babies can't be the boss of anyone.

"I don't think he'll text you anymore." She said.

"What happened on the phone?" Ellie reached for Clarissa's arm. Clarissa shied away from her hand.

"His mom picked up. She said that she'd talk to him about it. Problem solved," she forced a smile. "Everything's going to be okay."

But, it wasn't okay the next day. Sam was absent. He stopped showing up. Then, at lunch, Ryan got the bien bien bien text from an unknown number. Ryan and Ellie laughed it off, assuming that it was Dave's crazy way of getting revenge for ousting him from the gang.

"Maybe, Sam's in on it now." Ryan readjusted his hat. "There's probably something wrong on his dad's construction yard."

"Remember last year when his dad pulled him out of school for two weeks, all because he was going to be away in Finland, or something? Having a 17 year old being in charge is a weird business model, but I guess it works for them." Ellie mused.

"It wasn't like he was the boss. All he did was take orders from his dad the whole time." Ryan explained. "His phone was glued to his ear."

"Did Sam tell you guys anything about a weird phone call?" Clarissa had to ask.

Ellie shrugged. "He didn't tell me anything. I know he hasn't been answering his phone since he was absent, though."

"He must be swamped with work," Ryan bit into his sandwich. "I don't envy him for a second."

"If that number calls you, don't answer it." Clarissa warned him. Dave wasn't alive. He wouldn't tell Sam to prank any of them, and why would Sam even listen to Dave? Ellie and Ryan weren't making any sense.

"Why not? It's just Sam and Da
bien, bien, bien."

"What did you say?" Clarissa rubbed her ears.

"I said it's only Sam bien and
bien, bien."

"Shut up!"

"Calm down! It's like you're going crazy or something." Ellie clapped her hands in Clarissa's face.

"Y-you're right." She sighed. "Sorry." The rest of the lunch period was spent in silence.

When Ryan stopped going to school, Clarissa knew her hunch had been right. Dave hadn't killed himself for no reason. Sam wasn't tied up with his dad's construction business. Ryan couldn't be sick with the flu with his cellphone conveniently turned off.

Lunch time. Clarissa grabbed Ellie's phone out of her hands. There were 3 messages from the unknown number. Bien bien bien, again.

"They're having lots of fun trying to scare us, aren't they?" Ellie said. "They have to do way better than that."

"Ellie, don't you think it's weird that the three of them just happened to disappear after getting those texts? It can't be a coincidence." Clarissa didn't want to see Ellie gone, too. "Promise me you won't pick up the phone if they call you."

"What happened to her was an accident. I'm not bothered that they keep sending me this Spanish stuff. You shouldn't be, either." Ellie smiled. "Don't let this stuff get to you."

"Why would they joke with this? It's Maria."

The smile faded from Ellie's face. "I told you we weren't supposed to say her name."

"Sorry, but it's her! She's the one texting everyone. Dave told me it was her."

"He was trying to get inside your head."

"You're not listening to me! He's dead. She made him kill himself." Clarissa wanted to shake Ellie by the shoulders.

Ellie held herself back from slapping her in the face, a far more direct move. "You're the crazy one. If Dave was dead, it would be on the news. People can't kill themselves quietly. Everyone hears about it eventually."

Something dawned on her. "Was Maria on the news? The police barely did anything for her."

"She had to be. You're confusing yourself."

"My head hurts..."

That was the last time she saw Ellie. Dave, Sam, Ryan, Ellie. Maria Diaz had made them all disappear. This wasn't right. Who were the ones that put glue in her hair? Them. Who were the ones that shoved her to the ground, day after day? Them. They were the ones at the top, not her. Dead losers are supposed to stay dead!

Bien bien bien. Clarissa got the text message.

The fifth time it was sent, she found herself in front of the well Maria had fallen into. She had to know if she were dead. It was dark outside. The wind was so cold it made her shiver, despite three layers of clothes.

Dammit, Maria. You picked a horrible season to die. Clarissa aimed her flashlight at the bottom of the well. She couldn't see anything.

"Clarissaaaaaaa... ¿Cómo estás?"

"Maria? I knew you were alive, you crazy bitch!" She swung the flashlight to her left, searching for her. "Stop hiding from me."

"I'm in the well."

"How am I supposed to get down there?" Clarissa still couldn't see her.

"There's a rope. Use it to climb down."

"You better be telling me Spanish for sorry, because I'm not going down there."

"Lo siento. I hurt my leg when I fell. I can't make it back up."

Clarissa reached for the rope. "You're useless." She climbed up onto the well.

"Ask me how I'm doing."

"Do you ever shut up? No one likes you." She started lowering herself down.

The rope snapped from her weight. She tumbled, hit her head on the side of the well, and crash landed on her side. Her hair stuck together from the blood. It was hard for to breathe. Clarissa squinted into the darkness.

Of course, she'd get screwed over. At least Maria was around to call for help.

Someone picked up the flashlight and shined it into her eyes. "Seriously, Maria," Clarissa wheezed out. "Help me..."

"Say it." Maria ordered. She shone the light under her face, illuminating her shadows. Clarissa could see her black eye and the blood dribbling down her chin and the stains on her striped shirt. Life hadn't been kind to her. "¿Cómo estás?"

She raised the flashlight over her head.

"Bien --"
CRAK!
"Bien---"
WHAK!
"...bien."

Weeks later, four bodies were recovered from the bottom of the well.

Samuel Barnes,

Ryan Smithson,

Eleanor Reeve,

and Clarissa Douglas.

Maria Diaz was never found.

Bien, bien, bien.

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Next up: azureXtwilight's request. If you guys liked this one, you can find more of my writing on my DeviantArt page.
(Edited to fix the broken DA link. D:)

[Coren]

Can I request for one based on this? It's a CG from Ribbon of Green (link in sig), and the girl's name is Hanyuan.

[clua]

This sounds like fun, I have this picI did last year I think

I leave it to your imagination
btw "bien bien bien" means "fine fine fine" or "good good good"

I got really carried away with this story...as in over 2000 words carried away. XD Hope you like it!

*Insert awesome story*

A:A!! This is awesome, I wasn't expecting an horror story of the pic XD Poor María :_:...kids tend to be very evil
without even noticing it orz

¡Me gustó mucho! Muchísimas gracias por escribir esta pequeña historia y por agregar frases en español !
(I like it a lot! Thank you so much for writting this little story and for adding phrases in spanish XD!)

[kaleidofish]

No problem, and thanks! Glad you liked it. The color scheme, bruise on her eye, and the triple "bien" on her collar of your picture made for a lot of good horror inspiration. It was a lot of fun to write.

[TsukiShima]

I've been browsing around, and I know this has been a long time, but I wonder if you're still open.

You can name them with any name, I guess.

[kaleidofish]

Yeah, this thread is open. It's just been neglected due to real life stuff and VN work. Sorry for the continued wait, all!

Here you go, HanaMori.

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The Strongest Belief System of All

The first time he said it, he had voiced it so quietly that if she weren't watching his every syllable, she would have missed it completely. When he made himself louder the second time, she couldn't stop herself from laughing. Ciel was more known for his swordplay than his wordplay, and for good reason.

"Which washed-up bard did you steal that world-class line from?" Dessa teased. "The one from Engarth who had his pants on too tight or the one from Halfbloom with a million belts?"

"You bet your eyes it's a world-class line," he said, his smile widening. "If you're not gonna believe in yourself, then you better put all your faith in me. I'd sooner give up spell-casting than give up on you."

"That's big talk coming from someone who hasn't used magic in years."

"Be happy, you're a half-step higher than magic on my list. Ow!" Ciel rubbed his arm where she'd playfully hit him. "It's the feeling that counts, jeez."

Dessa didn't have it in her to correct him. It's the thought that counts, not the feeling, except that the real phrase wasn't the way it was with Ciel. He was all heart and very little mind, not even paying attention to enunciating his speech. He was pure instinct born of a will to do as much good as possible.

Their team hadn't always been a duo. It was his misplaced altruism that drove the three others away. He had cut their prisoner, a foreign enemy who had nearly (perhaps accidentally) killed one of their own, loose. Ciel's reason? Their captive had children waiting at home. Ciel couldn't handle the thought of destroying a family.

Lauren left them first. She didn't bother explaining herself when she went. She didn't have to. Everyone already knew why. Next to go was Salinas, asking the question on everyone's minds, "how are we supposed to be mercenaries when Ciel can't deal?"

What he said made a whole lot of sense. What was a guy like Ciel doing in the business of dangerous-jobs-for-money? It wasn't until Markos took off, dropping their numbers to only Ciel and Dessa, that she got a chance to ask him.

"Because I want to help people. That's all," he said. No heroic speech. No long-winded talk about wanting to better the world for some whimsical dream, full of beautiful layers after layers. No, nothing deep like that. His words were simply as plain as his hair was blue.

All of the straight-forward, face-value qualities that made everyone else leave (or assume he was an idiot) were what made Dessa stay with him. "Refreshing" was the best word she had to describe him with. In a country of warriors who measured their worth by the stains on their blade, he truly was...refreshing, in an unabashed puppy dog sort of way.

It's said that heroes are created from tragedy. Dessa made sure he'd never become one. To do that, she walked with him down another path.

They quit the mercenary life and took on new roles as traveling sword performance artists, close friends, and then her favorite role of all, a nameless something that was closer than even that.

So when he had told her, believe in me, who believes in you, she had to laugh,

because she couldn't remember a time when she didn't believe in him.

[TsukiShima]

Thank you so much for that cute story! I really like it, as expected your writing impressed me and even made me smile and laugh a little.
I'll treasure it, thank you again!

[kaleidofish]

I know I have some way overdue requests hanging out, but I'm going to bump this thread since I could use some more practice writing. Show me your pictures/prompts, and I'll see what I can do.

[Hazel-Bun]

Oh that's cool ^^ here's an image for ya'! Happy writing.

[kaleidofish]

@Hazel-Bun: Ooh, creepy. I'll write something up about it when I can!

@azureXtwilight: This is for you! Finally after almost two years, heh. Image here.

I'm also going to post this up on my Deviantart account for anyone who prefers posting comments there. They're very appreciated!

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The Cop & The Prosecutor

Professionalism didn't afford them the freedom to know each other beyond their roles. He was the Cop; she was the Prosecutor. Together, they formed a two-pronged force of law and order that worked outside of the usual channels. Some called them the clean-up crew, the janitors that would cover up and bury any bad incident necessary.

Their clients were typically pretty boy celebrities trying to get off scot-free for DUIs, politicians caught in prostitution ring scandals, and, on occasion, businessmen who wanted to crush their competitors. The Prosecutor's skills lied in shifting the blame to unsuspecting third parties. As the daughter of the city's most ruthless attorney, the blame game was in her blood. What she wasn't so good at, however, was scrubbing out the Cop's supposedly fake dragon tattoo.

"Are you sure this ink isn't permanent?" She pressed the wet towel to his back for the twentieth time that hour.

"Maydoni said it wasn't." He kept his arms crossed so she wouldn't see how much they were shaking. Tattoos weren't supposed to be part of the job. The only reason he'd agreed to letting it happen was to get closer to the tattooist they were mining information from. "She said she was laying down a sketch."

The Prosecutor sighed. "The needles should've tipped you off. Try being more aware next time." Maydoni must've had a weird effect on her partner. She reached for a spray bottle. "Did you at least get something new out of her? You were there for hours."

The spritz from the bottle made him jump. "Hey, ever heard about a warning?"

"Hey, ever heard about a job that's a week overdue? The Collectors aren't happy." She scrubbed at the dragon's head, maybe harder than necessary. "If she's not going to talk, they're going to take things into their own hands."

The towel wrapped around his head hid the crease lines his eyebrows made when they shot up. "We're not done, though. They can't do that."

"They can do anything they want. Maydoni's in their debt." The Prosecutor squeezed the cloth, the blue liquid streaking down the Cop's back. "If it weren't for my father being friends with hers, I wouldn't have bothered with this case. She asked the Collectors for money. How stupid can she be?"

"I'm doing what I can." He breathed out. "I don't see you doing anything to help her." Besides complaining about me all the time, he thought to himself bitterly. It wasn't his fault investigating took more time than they actually had.

"My hands are tied until you do your part. You know how these things work," she said. "I can't make it look like her dealers were the ones that got the loan until you give me their god damn names. Hurry up." The more their time dwindled, the more her patience waned along with it. This girl could be as good as dead in a couple days, or worse, they'd make her wish she was dead. The Collectors weren't above torture to get what they were owed. Teeth, eyes, finger nails, toes. Why hadn't that gotten through the Cop's thick skull already?

"One more day. I'll see her tomorrow."

"You needed this done today." The Prosecutor smacked the wet towel against his back. She was done. The Cop whirled around to face her, his cheeks burning an indignant red. "I'm going to see her." She got up off the floor they'd been sitting on and wiped her hands on her pants.

"You'll blow our cover!" He scrambled to a stand. "Investigating's my job, not yours."

"She'll die if I don't. Do you really want to be responsible for -"
"Don't -"
"- another dead girl?"

"You were just as responsible and you know it. You covered up that murder, not me. We dealt with pop stars before that. Bubblegum sunshine crap." The Cop turned his gaze to the wall. "I didn't get into this to help real criminals. It's messed up." He'd done his best to forget about that client. The man walked freely into his cushy CEO position, while an innocent woman was put behind bars for killing someone she'd only briefly met in a drug store the night before.

"Real? Everyone's a criminal, Cop. Even us." Especially us. She started walking towards the door. "We'll get someone to take Maydoni's place. That's what we were hired to do, weren't we?" They'd swap her fate for someone else's, like they always did. This was the twist their career had gone through.

"Yeah..."

"Go get yourself dressed, then." The Prosecutor opened the door, turned, and waited for him to join her. "We've got work to do."