You’ve done it. You’ve gone through everything Writing prompts threw at you. You’ve done many things you’re proud and not proud of, you’ve been through things you might not even remember. You’ve been many different beings, sexuality’s, and species. After all the torment that came for you, you’ve overcome the impossible. A bright light flashes, blinding you in an instant. You fall to your knees, your eyes straining to shut. Then there’s darkness.
You open your eyes slowly and look around. Blue and green neon lines cover the black walls, like marks on the temple ruins you’ve seen in history books. Cameras point at you from each side, their red eyes blinking with yours. In front of you, small TVs line the walls with one huge one in the center, all replaying different events you’ve triumphed. Below the large TV is a chair, with a body you can’t make out slouched over the control panels. They seem defeated.
“You’ve done it” the figure sighs. The voice is monotone, almost robotic and rusty. Their hand reaches a starbucks cup on their right side, a purple aura emanating around it. The mug floats back to their hand. You jump as the first words come out. “It speaks!!” “I do” the voice replies. You try to relax again. “What is this place?” you say to the figure, still looking around. They take a sip from their cup. “Why, you’ve fallen into my rabbit hole alice.” The figure gives a slight chuckle. You get this creepy vibe off of this shadow person, but you try not to let it bother you. You’ve seen all the magic in the universe from their games. It’s not like their’s is any different from the ones you’ve seen.
“Ya, okay, but seriously what is this place?”
“This is but the chambers of my supremacy. Many have tried to get here, only you prevailed. Congratulations.”
You take a breath. Is this a last prompt you thought wouldn’t exist? You could’ve swarn that same voice told you that you’ve won. Whatever it was, you couldn’t let the intimidation of this figure get to you. You take a step foreword. “You could at least turn around to answer me.”
The figure sits up and chuckles once more. They turn their chair, still unseeable from how dark the room is. One of their hands reach for a button on the control panel and a warm spotlight comes down on them. Shocks the first emotion that comes to you, followed by a cool calmness and confusion. In the chair sits a person with messy blonde hair and a white tank top, a plaid unbuttoned shirt on top. Messy ripped jeans cover their legs, converse cover their feet. All three of their eyes have bags underneath, as if they haven’t sleeped for weeks. You’re speechless. They push another button on the control panel.
“You look suprised” they exclaim.Their voice has completely changed. The robotic monotone in their voice is gone, and replaced with a more chill and relaxed presence. “Ask away. Please don’t ask too much though, I got a headache.”
You recollect yourself. “Okay first off, the outfits Gucci but how do you have 2 armholes on each side?”
The person rolls their eyes. “You really wanna ask the person who got you through all that?”
“Fair enough” you say, looking back to the TVs playing your adventures. “You’re saying you’re Writing Prompts? You put me through that didn’t you?!”
“You put yourself through that when you fell into this hellhole buddy.” Prompts scoffs. “I’ve tried protecting you amigos since the beginning of the blog. Somehow you just found your way.”
“Why would you do this to people who do find it though? What, you think this shits amusing?”
Prompts rolls their eyes, their hair turning a ginger color. “Look dude, I don’t control it anymore. It has control of itself. I don’t have control of what it does, I just monitor and try to get people past the carnage as much as I can. It’s taken me through it too as new submissions roll in just to test me. Do you have any idea what it’s like for me? I seriously fear my inbox.”
You ponder this. Prompts created a monster. But they pay the price. They’ve probably been through this a million times, and have seen this all a million times. You pity them, yet you find the idea intriguing too. Sure it’s tiring, but it sounds like an interesting adventure.
“Is their a way for me to get out of here?”
Prompts gives a smirk, and reaches for a lever on the control panel. They pull the lever and a red button comes out from the TV like a CD. You look at Prompts. Their hair has turned brown now, while they avoid eye contact.
“Just touch the button and it sends you out fam.”
“What about you? Have you tried before?”
“I can’t leave it. This has become apart of me. I can’t walk out, not yet.”
You look back to the button. “It gets tiring though doesn’t it? Being alone here watching all this?”
“It’s actually quite entertaining most times. I’m fine bro trust me.”
“Perhaps..” you hesitate. “Perhaps you would want a partner?”
Prompts looks up and into your eyes, their hair turning ginger once more. “What do you mean?”
“I’m just saying, life’s totally bogus back at home. It be fun to maybe stay and help?”
Prompts smiles, hair turning back to blonde. “Maybe so.”
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