Picture Prompt

book-review12

Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations and spotlight them in the next picture prompt post.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Picture Prompt:

K.J. CHAPMAN(3)

Not a soul had touched the water from the lake in almost a century. The last to plummet into the crystal clear depths suffered the consequences- a cruel, painful death. Only one elder remains who remembers that tragic day, and despite his age, his stories are still as vivid as ever.

The water of the lake is sacred. The stories passed down through the years insist that the lake was blessed by a High Priestess after a dream in which the Almighty Overseer instructed her to act upon his command. After the blessing, anyone who swam or drank from the lake withered like dried bark, screaming all the while until finally giving their last breath. It is believed that the one who survives the lake is the blessed Child of the Almighty Overseer. We shall never know the truth in this, for we are prohibited from going near the lake.

Although it is forbidden, it is a right of passage for a child turning the age of adulthood to jump the waterfall. It is not a large jump, but one shaking foot, or a meek run up would inevitably see them plunging into the water below. It hasn’t happened, yet.

Exhaling to calm my frantic heart beat, and clenching my fists tight, I run toward the waterfall. Harrow and the gang cheer and whoop as my feet thunder toward the jump. They have all made the jump in recent months; I am the youngest of the group and the last of us to prove myself courageous… or stupid.

“Go on, Baby,” Harrow calls, and his voice gees me on.

As my foot lands upon the last rock before the rushing fall of water, I launch myself into the air, keeping my eyes on the rocks on the other side.

Just as a howl of applause echoes around the forest, a gale of wind rips through the trees, extinguishing the camp fire. The impact of the wind is enough to knock the air out of my lungs, and as the force spirals me away from the rocks, I cry out for Harrow.

“Lenna!” he roars, as I tumble toward the water.

Oh, Almighty. This is how I die.

Hitting the water, I flail to the surface, awaiting the inevitable. Harrow and the others look over the edge, crying and screaming my name. How long does this thing take? With a lurch, I’m sucked down into a vortex of current without a shred of air in my lungs. Perhaps drowning is the lesser of two evils. The water feels like hands upon me, forcing me anyway it pleases, and with one forceful gush, I’m propelled from the lake and land heavily on the bank. Harrow is already running toward me after bravely scaling the rock face.

He stops in his tracks, eyes wide, and mouth open. “Your skin,” he gasps.

Every inch of my skin is covered in delicate, black symbols.

Dropping to his knees, Harrow lowers his head in a bow. “Child of the Almighty Overseer.”


Content belongs to K.J.Chapman

Picture Prompt

book-review12

Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations and spotlight them in the next picture prompt post.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Writer Spotlight: The talented Katie Masters tried her hand my last picture prompt. Find her enthralling story in the comments of the last post.

Picture Prompt:

K.J. CHAPMAN(2).png

The view from the cottage offers the first sighting of any ships and boats heading toward the coast. Everyday, for hours on end, I stand at the bottom of the garden, watching the horizon span out from the jut of rock that shields the cove. Alfred no longer scolds me for my time wasted in such a task, and where he’d once reprimand me for standing in the rain, hail, and gales atop the cliff, he now merely brings a a blanket without a word.

I await the Black Whisper. It has been fourteen months since she left under attack, leaving me here with Alfred. Fourteen months of me acting the lady with no family save an elderly manservant. I long to shun the corsets and petticoats for my britches and coat. I wish to not have to keep my gun and sword hidden in case of visitors.

Alfred fears she will never return, but that doesn’t stop him from watching and waiting in the night. I know she will return, for the captain would not abandon us…me.

“Supper is ready, Lass.” Alfred’s frail hand on my shoulder startles me. “As I am a soul, you’re wet through.”

“I shall be along, Alfred.”

“Tis misting today. You shan’t see a bloody thing unless it is upon our door. How shall I explain to the Cap’n, when he does return, that you caught your death upon the cliffs? He’d tie me to the rope and use me as the fecking anchor!”

Turning foot, I head into the cottage. “Your skinny arse as anchor, pah!” Wisecracks are what get us through the long days. Alfred’s rebuffs are so sharp and witty, yet he says nothing. “Alfred?” Still nothing.

The old man splutters, but no words surface. Instead, he points to the mist. Sails break through as if cutting at the air. The Black Whisper sails into the cove with a familiar, burly figure at the bow.

“The Cap’n has returned for the lass who waited,” Alfred guffaws.


 

 

Picture Prompt

book-review12

Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations and spotlight them in the next picture prompt post.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Picture Prompt:

K.J. CHAPMAN.png

“Is that it? Is that all we fucking get?” Caine shouts into the air. Tears leave streaks through his muddy cheeks as he pummels the wall. “We have been trapped inside that maze for seventeen months, and that pathetic exit is all we get?”

“What were you expecting?” I ask. The sense of claustrophobia that I have lived with for nearly a year and a half melts away from me and I starfish in the grass.

“A fucking fan fair! I don’t know…I just thought it was all for something bigger, something greater. Freddie died in there, and for what? Nothing!”

He’s bloodying his knuckles up, much like he did when Freddie died. If he’s not careful he’ll get another infection. Throwing my arms around him, I drag him away from the wall. “Stop, Caine! We’re out. It’s okay, we’ve made it.” He sags against me and weeps.

“No, you haven’t,” says a voice behind us. Both of us spin around, drawing our knives. A tall, skinny man wearing only a loin cloth and holey running shoes approaches. He isĀ  accompanied by at least ten others, all in a similar state of dress; dirty, bedraggled, and famished. I thought we were filthy, but these guys look positively feral. “That was just part one.” He hands me a pair of muddy binoculars. “Just look.”

Caine snatches them from my hands and scours the horizon. He staggers backward, grasping at me to ground him. “There are more walls. No! No! Seventeen months! We’ve been in there seventeen months!”

The man hangs the binoculars around his neck. “We’ve been here ten years. No one has made it through part two.”


Content belongs to K.J.Chapman

 

 

 

Week Three: Fictional Flashback February 2017

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This month, I am taking part in #FictFBFeb17 hosted by Faith Rivens. You can find Faith and this challenge on Twitter and Instagram~ @faith_therivens.

This challenge allows us to take an indepth look at our characters, and offers readers insight into their stories. I have chosen to feature Teddie Leason from the EVO Nation series, and Dagger, the protagonist from a novella I am currently working on, Zombie Playlist. Each day is a different theme, so for the next month, keep your eyes peeled for my contributions.

I shall do a weekly summary of my posts on my blog, so if you miss my Twitter/ Insta posts, you can always find them here.

Day 15: Familiar

Day 16: Forward

Day 17: Feel

Day 18: Fringe

Day 19: Fling

Day 20: Fever

Day 21: Follow


Content belongs to K.J.Chapman

Week Two: Fictional Flashback February 2017

fictfeb

This month, I am taking part in #FictFBFeb17 hosted by Faith Rivens. You can find Faith and this challenge on Twitter and Instagram~ @faith_therivens.

This challenge allows us to take an indepth look at our characters, and offers readers insight into their stories. I have chosen to feature Teddie Leason from the EVO Nation series, and Dagger, the protagonist from a novella I am currently working on, Zombie Playlist. Each day is a different theme, so for the next month, keep your eyes peeled for my contributions.

I shall do a weekly summary of my posts on my blog, so if you miss my Twitter/ Insta posts, you can always find them here.

Day 8: Freedom

Day 9: Fear

Day 10: Friendship

Day 11: Found

Day 12: Four

Day 13: Fragile

Day 14: Forever


Content belongs to K.J.Chapman

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Picture Prompt

book-review12

Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Writer Spotlight: Check out Jacky’s interpretation of the last picture prompt over on her blog: Jacky’s Journey.

Picture Prompt:

K.J. CHAPMAN(7).png

“And no one knows what’s on the other side?” I ask.

The pastor shakes his head. “Only those chosen during the Storm Festival take the steps. It’s an honour, Lacey. You get to fulfil your destiny. The Gods only favour us with prosperity if the chosen take the steps. They will reward you, my child.”

“But no one ever comes back.” I glance at the mountain with its thousands of steps that disappear into the clouds, and then picture my mother’s crying face. I’ve been training for years to be able to tolerate high altitudes and have the fitness levels to make the trek. Ten of us are selected from the clans for every birth year, and only two will make the climb on their eighteenth year. Myself and a guy called Mal from a fellow clan won the title of ‘Climbers’ during the Storm Festival. I can see Mal in quiet conversation with his pastor.

“Thank you for your sacrifice, Climber Lacey,” my pastor says, kissing my forehead. He steps aside to allow me to greet Mal for the first time.

I shake his hand, introduce myself, and stand beside him. It’s hard to disguise my trembling as anything other than fear. The steps loom in front of us, and the crowds cheer behind. I daren’t turn to search for my mother for fear of breaking down.

“Ready to see what’s on the other side?” Mal asks.


Content belongs to K.J.Chapman
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Picture Prompt

book-review12

Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Picture Prompt:

k-j-chapman6

“Do you hear that?” Reggie pushes his ear to the side of the large drum. “Music…”

Pushing my own ear against the damp metal, the quiet but definite sounds of music emit from within. There is also a voice; a soft hum of a voice singing along. “Someone lives here,” I whisper. With that, the music vanishes and is replaced with an eerie silence.

“How? It’s an old vat or…wasn’t this a sewage works? I bet it was some kind of filtering system. God,the stuff that was probably stored in there.” Reggie makes a vomit noise in his throat.

A twig snaps from the treeline, then another. The Trackers are close. Reggie’s face betrays his fear. “If they find us they’ll drain us,” he says, the words sailing out on a shaky breath.

A panel bursts opens between us. A greying man with a wispy, white beard, crouches through the hole. “Get in here!” he shouts. “Hurry, before they see you.”

We have little choice. Reggie climbs in first, taking my hand and pulling me through. The man brushes at the dirt with an old rag, destroying our tracks, and then he pulls the panel back into place and secures it. Placing a finger to his lips, we sit in silence, listening to the Trackers scouting right outside.

After a few long minutes, we hear them move further into the woodland. “How did you know we were safe?” Reggie asks the man. “We could have been Trackers?”

“You were worried about being drained,” he says, tapping his ear. “If you still have your own, human blood in you, then your fine by me. Besides, it was worth the risk. I haven’t spoken to another living soul in two years. You don’t get many visitors when you live in a shit tank.”


Content belongs to K.J. Chapman

 

Picture Prompt

book review(12).png

Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Picture Prompt:

k-j-chapman4

Two hundred and eight days of solitude. Two hundred and eight days of my own company; nothing but an internal monologue to get me through each day. I can’t be the only one left. Seven billion people on the planet have all just poofed into non-existence. I’ve decided that today shall be my last. As the cliffs loom in the distance, and it dawns on me that I have walked the length of the country, I prepare myself to take my final dive.

Removing my shoes, I take a last stroll along the waters edge. The sand is soft and warm under foot; a sharp contrast to the hard, cold reality I face. It takes all my strength to turn away from the rolling waves, but the time has come to put myself out of this misery. Making my way back to the coastal path, something catches my eye a little further down the beach. The closer I get, the more my heart races. A stone sculpture stands proudly from the sand. The sea-weathered stones are postioned with a beautiful artistry. Dropping to my knees, I wipe away the sand drift from the boulder at the base of the sculpture and press my forehead into the sand as tears shudder from my body. The rock is inscribed with a message- the best message I have ever read.

“I search for survivors every Thursday. Do not leave this point. Look out for my yacht. Hang in there, you lucky sons of bitches.”


Content belongs to K.J.Chapman

Picture Prompt

monthly-reads-roundup

Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Picture Prompt:

k-j-chapman2

As the gates open, the colour green fills every inch of my vision. I hadn’t realised how much I have missed colour. Dirty browns and dusty yellows have been our lives for so long now, even the rusty red of blood seems to blend into the landscape because it has become such an ordinary sight to us. To see a fully developed eco system such as this in comparison to the hell outside, is probably the closest many of us will ever get to a heaven.

The head honcho, Fraser, gives us a minute to take it in. “Welcome to your new home. This is where you get to start again- humanity gets to start again. You will have two days to settle in, and then you will be assigned your new jobs. Everyone plays a part in this new world. I am sure you will find everyone very welcoming.”

There is a scream from behind, and instinctively, the whole group draw their weapons. Fraser waves his hands to calm us, and approaches little CeeCee at the back of the huddle.

“What is it?” she cries, as an animal curiously walks around her. I haven’t seen such an animal in about fifteen years. The sight of such vivid pinks and the majesty of its posture holds me transfixed. “Get it away. Mama, what is it?”

“Away, Gerald,” Fraser says, shooing the animal. He bends closer to CeeCee and her mother. “I bet you’ve never seen an animal, eh?” CeeCee shakes her head, tears spilling from her eyes. “Gerald is a flamingo, Sweetheart. He won’t hurt you.” Then, he turns to address us all. “We have over three hundred species of animal within our perimeters. This is about more than saving ourselves. It is about saving our world.”


Content belongs to K.J. Chapman

Picture Prompt

monthly-reads-roundup

Here is another of my Instagram picture prompts for you to get creative with. I invite you to have a go at writing a sentence/paragraph/short story to accompany the picture. Remember to link your post back to me, so I can read your creations.

You can find me on Instagram by following this link.

Picture Prompt:

k-j-chapman1

They say the wall has stood for two hundred years. We are prohibited from going within one hundred yards of it. The outposts are manned, but to converse with the guards is punishable by lashing. It is just the way of the wall. Chief tells us that it was built for our protection from the monsters outside. We recite those exact lines during our communal prayers.

Mumma warned me to stay away as a child. I would always push the limits; stepping one foot over the perimeter or throwing pebbles at the wall. It was during one of these escapades that I saw a guard without his helmet on. He looked ordinary like Papa, but he was eating something strange; a food with a long, yellow skin. I couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t drinking blood? All we can drink is blood, else we get sick.

It was then that I heard his voice carried on the breeze. “Why do we do this God damned job?” he asked someone just out of my sight.

“To keep those filthy blood drinkers in check,” another voice replied.

I now know that the wall is to keep the monsters out… of the other side.


Content belongs to K.J. Chapman