“Woah!, it’s bigger than my fist!”, the almost neon blue crystal pulsated in my hands, a faint whispering seemed to be coming from within, then a bright burst of light almost blinding.

“You shouldn’t have picked that up, bud.”. A huge hulking man twice the width of a door surrounded by a blue glowing aura was suddenly behind me. He shook his head and looked at me pitifully, “Doubt you’ll last the hour. Any skills or abilities son?”.

Jaw dropped, words came out, but nothing comprehensible. The man began to fade, the light he blocked with his size began to seep through him.

“Oh, you don’t get much time for the hand-over do you!?”

“What do you, mean, hand-over, of what?” I managed.

“Well you see, that gem there, is a tracking token – in a very long game of intergalactic inter-dimensional cat and mouse that my people had been training for, waiting for that gem for as long as we have had history, I was THE champion chosen. I was supposed to win, a lifetime of training – and I made it 70 rotations of our world, before…”

He was becoming very faint, even his voice sounded distant.

“Now it’s up to you, until you lose – and you can tell your story to the next who is chosen by that gem stone.”

I looked at the gem and threw it the ground, at least, tried to – it was firmly fixed to my left hand, and was becoming hot seeming to melt into me.

“Far too late for that son, you’ll absorb that thing, and won’t see it again until you win, or end up like me. Looks like I’m almost spent, take my satchel, and this hopper – use it sparingly though, you can only use it once a cycle, and it’s powered by the gems force. You’ve got a very short while until they will be able to start the hunt, stay hidden, and you might have time to say your farewells. See you on the other side.”

The satchel and a bracelet dropped out of the air, I picked them up – and then he was gone, as was the gem, just a faint blue light shone from my hand.

I stood, staring down the street, for a good 10 minutes. “Did any of that just happen?”, looking down at my hands, a worn leather looking brown satchel in my right hand, a bracelet in my glowing left hand. The satchel contained a small knife, not much larger than a letter opener, a dark wooden box with a gold trim, inside it was something that looked like a compass, but the workings of it looked seized, and it had several pointers in it, none of which moved.

None of this seems real, or makes any sense – and I’m late for work, again.

---

This writing prompt is in response to
https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/gupme7/wp_one_day_while_walking_outside_you_hear_a_clink/

“Any luck yet Merlin? Or will it be the same goddam fucking excuse as last time!?” Arthur hurled a half empty beer glass at Merlin. “Desiisti coniecerim!” The glass stopped in midair, reversed direction and sped back the way it came, narrowly missing Arthur as he lurched to avoid it.

“Do you think it’s simple to reverse such complex sorcery, if I knew who cast this curse and with what magic, I may have a slim chance of undoing our predicament. Like I have said before, be patient and keep Camelot in order while Mordred and I search for a solution.” Merlin slumped himself down into a plush pink fluffy chair, a scantily clad hostess refilled his glass.

“Yet you have time to sit and drink away the wealth of Camelot, I fear you enjoy the youth this curse has bestowed upon you far too much.” Arthur began towards Merlin.

“Don’t! Presume anything! You small-minded imbecile.” Merlin took a large gulp. “Might I remind you that I am still the King of Camelot!” Arthur knocked the drink from Merlin’s hand.

“Might I remind you, that Camelot is a crack riddled Casino in the slums of London, and without me, you will continue to be, for ever more, well and truly fucked!!”

“Guards! GUARDS!”

“They’re called ‘bouncers’ here, you feckless moron! 4 years and you still think we’re in the Middle Ages. Besides, I’ll see myself out, our business is done, for now.”

Merlin headed for the exit.

“FORTUNAE!”

As he exited, every slot machine in the casino exploded with the sirens of the Jackpot being won.

“MER-LIN!!!!”

---

This writing prompt is in response to
https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9cvo3v/wp_king_arthur_as_a_south_london_ganglord_with/

Thud! “Uh! What was that!?” I slowly opened my eyes, the light from the window made it hard to see. “What time is it?.. 11:15am!”, my mother wakes me at 7:30 every morning. “Shit! I’ve missed my first round of meds, and the second are due at noon. Where’s my mother?”. I dragged my legs over the edge of the bed and slid into my wheel chair, the pill box hasn’t been filled either, and I can’t reach the meds cupboard, its up too high for me to get to from my chair. “Mom!.. MOM!” nothing, no reply. Well, gotta pee – lets hope she’s back before the hallucinations kick in, I’ve not been this long without my meds since I was about 7.

Thud! Thud! THUD! “Who’s there? Just a minute!” It’s probably my mum, must have left her keys – hopefully she has the meds all sorted. Flush the toilet, quick squirt of the hand sanitizer and head to the door. Odd, my mothers coat and handbag are still in the hallway. Damn, the latch on the door at the top is too high, I don’t remember the last time I answered the door by myself.

“Just a minute, the latch is on the door, and I’m in a wheelchair.”.

“Mr Brown?” called a deep voice from the other side, the silhouette of a large man and a thinner person next to him was just visible through the frosted glass. “Yes.. who are you? And who’s your friend?” my voice cracked slightly, I’m not used to being alone. “Mr Brown, I’m special detective Porter – with me is Dr White, she’s a counsellor, of sorts – can we come in, we need to discuss your situation.”. My situation? “What are you talking about, do you know where my mother is? And the door latch, it’s too high to…” Huh.. the latch is unlatched, I’m sure it was locked tight a moment ago. I opened the door and let them in, they scooched past me and headed for the living room.

“Mr Brown” her voice was soothing, almost apologetic just saying my name. “Mr Brown, we have taken your mother into custody, unfortunately, she had been taking prohibited, untested experimental medications from the lab at her work. These drugs are very dangerous, and we need to..” Detective Porter interrupted, “We need to locate and secure this medication as soon as possible, you need to come with us Mr Brown.” “I’m not sure how much help I can be, and why would my mother steal medication? All my meds are prescription, I’ve seen the labels on the bottles. I can’t believe my mother would.” “Wait! It’s YOU, that has been taking the medications!?” the doctor went several shades whiter, Porter looked to her, sirens in his eyes. Into his lapel, he shouted a series of seemingly random words, within seconds, the room filled with armed officers. I laughed, a little in terror. “I’m a cripple in a wheel chair!” Where could I go, I reached down to my wheels, but no, no need for wheels – I was feeling strong, my mind clear, for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Mr Brown? Mr Brown – you need to come with us, calmly and quietly now.” Porter’s voice was the one that cracked slightly this time, he was scared. He signalled for the armed officers to move forward, then a buzzing sound began, turned into a sawing whining whir, all went red – then the room exploded crimson, warm, wet, blood; the entire block, levelled. My chair gone, my home gone all my house guests gone, sirens wailed in the distance, what did my mother do to me? What did I do to those people? For those answers, I needed to get to my mother.

---

This writing prompt is in response to
https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/9cvpdy/wp_your_mum_has_told_you_youre_sick_all_your_life/

The road is long,
with many a winding turn,
that leads us to who knows where,
who knows where…

Ah, the two Bobs, they knew how to write a ballad – my mum used to sing that one to me when I was a baby, although she always preferred the Neil Diamond version over The Hollies. This road I’m on certainly is a long one, but there sure ain’t no winding turns. Straight as a bloody arrow – walking for who knows how long and to where is anyone’s guess. There’s stuff strewn all along the sides too, the orange covered record with Neils face on it is what set off the song in my head, it was there, just discarded on the road along with a few other records, and some baby toys – a ‘my first’ curl box.

Man my feet are numb, I think I had boots, and socks when I started this walk – all that’s left are some tattered white elastic around my ankles. I wish I remembered why I set out on this mission of a walk – did my car break down a few thousands miles behind me or something!?

A little toy stuffed elephant, seems strangely familiar.

Hup, two, three, four,
Keep it up, two, three, four,
Oh, the aim of our patrol,
Is a question rather droll,
For to march and drill,
Over field and hill..

My dad used to sing that to me, to get me to sleep – prancing around the bedroom just like the colonel in the movie – clear as day I can remember it.

All this stuff, everywhere.. it’s all mine, or was mine. I’m walking my life, the things here, they are my memories, but I’m going backwards, if I’ve been walking for so long already, and I’m here, with these memories, then I must be close to the end of the path, the end of the road.

There’s my first blanket, bright pink with a little rabbit on, they were told I was going to be a girl! Late night painting of the well-prepared in advance nursery from pink to blue, my dad hardly slept for weeks.

And ahead, a clearing, the path is closing – so what’s next, I feel those precious memories slipping away, the sound of my dad gasping with joy in the delivery room as he cuts the cord, my mums relief there were no complications. A flash of white light, something scraping my head, voices, lights, not my dad, but it is, it is now, words, thoughts, fading.. crying.

---

This writing prompt is in response to
https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8uv3ej/wp_you_find_yourself_on_a_path_you_dont_recognise/

01:35 – Come on, come on! Damn Lyft driver is cutting it fine, typical, when you need to get home and only have enough money in the bank for a LyftLine ride – at this time of the morning it will be some pissed up idiots or a creepy drunk guy, it always is. Got to get in before 2am and home is 20 minutes away, why the hell did I have that last last pint..

01:38 – “Your ride is here, look for Patrick in the Silver Prius.” – it’s always a damn Prius, what is with Lyft drivers and that damn car. Someone in the front already, semi-attractive girl with dark brown hair, looks a little tipsy – one other guy with longish hair, and a leather jacket in the back there.

“Hi Patrick, how’s your night been?”

“Sam, is it? Not too bad, you three are my last before heading home, you’re my second drop buddy.”

Well, hopefully that will get me home before 2am. “Can you get me dropped before 2am Patrick?”

“I’ll do my best chief. – Miss, are you ok, if you need to throw up give me a little warning!”

“What’s the rush to get home friend?” – The guy next to me asked, not the usual accent for these parts, sounds almost South African, like my great Grandad’s accent, but thicker, stronger, less wispy than the old man. “Silly really, my Grandma always told me ‘be home before 2am, nothing good every happened after 2am, so its best to be home and rested.’, so I always have.”.

“That’s a peculiar saying, sounds familiar though – how about you Patrick? Ever heard that one before?”

“No sir, new one on me. To be honest, my best fares are around 2am, but I have an early appointment tomorrow.”.

01: 42 – This guy was the weirdo for sure, well-worn leather jacket, filthy trousers and boots, greasy hair – how he was in a Lyft I have no idea, he doesn’t even look like he owns a cell phone! Although he has a businessman’s holster, but it sure doesn’t look like a cell phone in the pouch.

“So, Sam. Where I come from, 2am is when you ought to be careful, when you ought to be tucked up at home in bed, with your expensive silver chains tight.” he spat the last sentence out, his friendly smile fading – “Silver chains? I don’t wear jewelry buddy, and this Lyft ride is eating the last of the cash out of my bank account, so nothing worth..”

01:47 – “First stop, Miss, Miss!? This is your stop, do you need a hand up to the door?” Patrick got out and helped the girl hobble up to stoop of her door. “Why so nervous Sam?”, why ask!? Some creepy ass 80s detective throw back from South Africa is making all the hairs, everywhere, stand up to attention, and I’m still 10 minutes out from my house, well, it’s my Grandma’s, but she’s giving me a great deal on the sublet of the self-contained basement apartment, so I can’t complain too much.

01:49 – “In a rush to get to Grandma’s house are we.. ha ha HA!” His laugh was almost a cackle, and how the hell did he know about ‘Grandma’s house’, is he some sort of mind reader? “Whose Grandma’s house?” play it dumb, although this guy looks chiseled under those old clothes. “Don’t play stupid – boy, I’m only in this death-trap because you weren’t where you were supposed to be..” Patrick got back in the car, what the hell was this crazy guy talking about.

01:53 – “Everything alright back there gents? Anyone like to get in the front, stretch their legs before we get going to Sam’s drop off?” Hell yes! “Sure Patrick, it’s a little cramped back here.” So I got in the passenger seat, not far now, it’ll be after 2am, but just barely. Grandma won’t be happy though!

01:59 – “Almost there Sam – Sam, are you ok? Hey man, he’s just passed out, will you be able to give me a hand if I can’t wake him when we get to his stop?”

“Sure, I’ll give him more than a hand the filthy little…”

03:03 – I woke up about a block away from my house, nobody in the Lyft cab except myself, Patrick’s chinos and shirt where in his seat, shoes on the pedals, and in the back, the South African guys worn old clothes – I reached in to check what was in that holster and pulled my hand away real quick, it was hot to the touch, left a nasty burn on my hand. It’s not the first time this blackout and weird clothes’ thing has happened, this is exactly what happened to my parents, when the state trooper found me alone in their car and me asleep in my junior car booster seat, age 5. After all, it’s why I live at Grandma’s house, and boy will she be pissed when she sees how late I’m getting in.

---

This writing prompt is in response to
https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8uv55c/wp_nothing_good_happens_after_2am/

“Doctor! He’s waking up!”…

“Oh good, don’t try to talk – you’ve been involved in a very serious accident, but we were able to save you. Try to get some rest, and we’ll go over the details shortly”. I tried to reply, to ask what was going on, what had happened, but no words came out; the doctor flipped the chart, wrote something down and then stepped out of the room.

Looks like I’m in a hospital bed, and my wife Sue is here, in the chair next to me – talking, but the words are fading in and out; “Steve! Steve! How did you get here!? I got a call, they said you were here of all places. They’re going to try to help you as best they can.”.

I closed my eyes.. didn’t the doc say they had managed to save me, I feel fine, what is Sue going on about? Sleep took over.

“How will he cope? Will he ever fully recover?” Sounded like my mother, guess she’s visiting – I should open my eyes, see what’s going on.

“There was no other option Mrs Tripp, we had to perform an emergency hemispherectomy on the right side of his brain, that’s what is causing the drooping on his left side. His left eye wasn’t damaged, but we will get an ophthalmologist to assess once we have had a chance, to try to fully understand what is going on.”

“Mum? Is everything ok?” I caught pieces of the doctor’s explanation, Sue showed no sign of worry, she must have already had it all explained to her while I was out. “What did they do to my brain?”

The doctor explained in detail the procedure, about my treatment plan and how my recovery rate should be steady but slow. My mum, interrupted and questioned several times, Sue stayed by the beside, staring at me like I’d been away for months on a business trip.

After the doc had gone, and it had started to get late, I told my mum to go home and get some rest, after all – I was going to be fine. She hugged me and said good night, then left, but not a word to Sue; they must have had a shouting match while I was out of it or something.

“I’m going to get some sleep Sue”, and before I knew it, it was lights out.

“He shouldn’t be here Susan, not like this – its not natural.” – I awoke to a deep voice booming from the hallway outside my room. “We need to do something, how did this happen? One minute he’s talking to me, and the next he’s zoned out like he’s lost in a dream!?”. “He doesn’t realise what has happened, or where he’s supposed to be, so he’s in both”, “How is that even possible?”; I called for Susan, and she came running into the room hugged me, almost too tightly. “Thank god you are back, I thought you were lost in there again..”.

I’m not sure what she meant, I hadn’t been anywhere – then, a knock at the door and it opened, but I must have been seeing double, Sue had left the door open when she had come in.

It was the ophthalmologist, come to take a look at my eye, just to be sure I wasn’t going to lose it for now, and then a more in-depth check later, once I was on my feet. “How are you coping with vision in just the right eye Mr Tripp?”, got the wrong patient probably.. “My eye is fine, Sue is sat there on my right, and I can see her perfectly through that eye!”. “Mr Tripp, your right eye is severely clouded, almost grey completely; and I can assure you that it is just yourself and I in the room. Can you cover your left eye and read this chart please?”.

I read the chart perfectly, never needed glasses or contacts, always had great vision, well until now I guess the way this lady is talking about my eye. “Very good, and now, cover the right eye, and read this chart.”

As soon as I covered my ‘good’ eye, the ophthalmologist, my hospital room, the monitors, hell, even my catheter – all vanished, a cool blue wave rushed over the right side of my body. Sue shouted toward the hallway “Quickly, come and see what’s happening!”, she gripped my hand so tightly it felt like my fingers were breaking, and then the pain in my head and side went away.

“Mrs Tripp, I’m sorry to inform you that your son Steve passed this morning during his ophthalmology assessment. He briefly mentioned he had been talking with his wife Sue several times while here, would you like us to inform her of the news?”

“Susan!? Doctor, that’s just not possible, Steve’s wife passed four years ago.”.

---

This writing prompt is in response to
https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8usr8w/wp_theres_always_been_two_universes_one_for_the/