My friend Melissa Barker-Simpson sponsors a weekly writing contest called “Mel’s Midweek Writing Menagerie.” Each week on a Thursday, she posts a new prompt, and contributions will are shared via Featured Fiction. Check out her personal blog to get all the rules.

Here are the options for this week:

Option 1: Sentence Starter –

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

This sentence (thanks, Rose), can appear anywhere in the story. The maximum word count is 1,000 words. The genre can be any of your choosing; either factual or fiction based. You may use art to interpret the sentence, or poetry if you wish.

Option 2: Fanfiction –

Write an alternative ending to one of your favourite films or television shows.

I am using Option One.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Rawmall knew Elves could be killed by violent acts because he had lost many friends during the Elf Wars long ago. That was when he found that living in captivity did not suit the Elves of Timmoral Forest. Some lost the will to live and were found wasting away in a cave after the insurrection. Elves are supposed to be immortal, thought Rawmall to himself, not die alone in a forest, the victim of a killing.

Rawmall stood in the clearing, staring at the half decomposed body of the male Elf. His long blue hair had been partially ripped from his head. A long metal-tipped arrow had pierced him through the heart. The metallic smell of blood was everywhere in the forest clearing. Rawmall sniffed the air noticing the leaves of the bushes were covered with sticky blood. Flies buzzed around the rotting corpse. There were no sounds other than the mournful howl of the wind sweeping through the mighty oaks.

Rawmall was a half-breed Elf, part human, part elf. Looking at his outward appearance he looked like a magnificent human man, except for his unusually long pointed ears. His father had been human, his mother a rare Nandor Elf from beyond the Misty Mountains. Rawmall’s heritage spoke for itself. He was a brave warrior and champion of his lineage.

The digging of a hole to bury the deceased Elf took several hours to complete. Rawmall dug with a thick limb from an oak tree, using his hands to loosen the red clay soil when necessary. Rawmall dragged the decomposing body to the edge of the burial mound. He reached for the arrow still buried in the Elf’s chest. It broke in his hands as he pulled the course arrow from where it had been lodged. He would find the owner of this arrow. His life depended on it.

The Elf’s body shifted as it fell into the gaping hole. A foul stench rose up into the air, and a dark cloud of flies quickly covered the body. Rawmall scraped dirt into the hole burying the body of the unknown Elf. Finally finished with the grueling burial, he took a long pull of water from the deer skin bag he wore while on his journey to discover new lands.

Suddenly, an arrow pierced the tree trunk nearest his head. He could hear it whiz by him in the still air. Rawmall grabbed his bow from the ground and crawled to his quiver which lay next to the burial mound. Placing an arrow on his bow he crouched low, taking aim at the trees from where the arrow had come. Silence filled the clearing. Rawmall crouched and waited, poised for immediate action.

Whoever had tried to kill him was long gone. Rawmall retrieved the enemy arrow from the tree and placed it in his own quiver. He would find this elf killer, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

Total Words: 500

Thanks for popping in. I promised an elf story to my friend, the Word Nerd. ❤