Seeing as the original one died a month ago, we’ll try it again, but this time the next poster finishes the story the first one started, then puts in his or her own prompt (mundane or whatever), onward and upward (or downward), you know the drill. Don’t get attached to the one sentence rule either-Rule of Funny overrides (else we’ll get Semicolon and Dashed Hell).
Little Maria smiled when she opened the box-it was what she had always wanted.
The severed head of her worst enemy looked back at her.
John looked up when he heard footsteps approaching his door.
Soon enough, the unsuspecting fools would be covered in glitter.
Amy loved game night with her family.
Especially when it was her turn to use the AK-47 during The Hunting Party.
Whatever that is crawling under my skin itches like hell.
I can’t wait until its eggs hatch and take over my brain.
Ben’s dog found a fun new toy after digging it up in his backyard.
The empty eye sockets pleaded, “Please put me back in the ground; The Master will be angry!”
I have never heard a sound like that in my entire life.
How about a slight rule change: the previous entry can be lengthened with appropriate punctuation then expanded on. What do you think, sirs?
Let’s try to get some more participation first, but I’ll think about it.
A combination of the screech of my fingernails on the blackboard in our kitchen, and the endless scream of my wife as I subjected her to it for 15 hours.
“I wonder if there are any monsters in my closet tonight”, anxiously mused little Johnny.
“Imagine his happy surprise when he called his little sister to check out the closet and subsequently became an only child once more.”
There was one last door to open.
The previous twenty-four didn’t have any chocolate behind them; that fat bastard in the red suit better be bringing some tonight or he’s toast! thought Jim, machete placed delicately in his lap.
Fortunately, the snow only piled up four feet.
Unfortunately, that left the feet of my upside-down crucified victims still visible to any passerby.
The punks at school got ready to whip me with their rat-tailed towels.
Well, my name is Willard and I’m unleashing my towel-tailed rats on ‘em.
What is that smell coming from under the bed?