Prompt from: https://thestoryshack.com/tools/writing-prompt
Genre: fairy tale
Person: a golfer
Item: a machine gun
Sentence to use: “Don’t trust everything you see.”
Full title: Strange Saturday Nights Are Good For Sunday Morning Health
I’m starting to wonder if I’m actually drunk. I didn’t think I was, considering I only had a sip from one of my friend’s cups, but hey, with what I’m seeing in front of me, I can’t really be sure. After all, last I checked, I was driving home. I have no idea how I ended up on this golf course, standing next to a dragon.
Did someone slip me some magic mushrooms? Maybe ground up in my drink or something? I’m not really sure how that works, to be honest.
I sit down, staring past the dragon at the figure that was approaching slowly. It’s a bit too far for me to see what it is right now, but it’ll get closer soon enough. I would run, but if this is just some weird hallucination, I don’t think it would do any good.
But then again, maybe it’s not a hallucination. I’ll still take the risk, though; I have no idea where my car is and I’m not a very fast runner, so trying to escape both a dragon and a mysterious figure probably wouldn’t end very well for me.
Well, this is not how I expected my Saturday night to go.
The figure’s gotten closer, enough so that I can see it clearly. It’s a man, dressed like a golfer, with dark hair swept to one side. His shirt, though, is neon yellow, and his shorts are neon pink. He’s got a handsome face, but honestly, with those clothes, he’s an eyesore. He’s also holding something, but I can’t tell what yet.
The dragon and I share a look saying, can you believe this guy? then go back to waiting for the man to reach us. The dragon seems slightly exasperated- it huffed a little, and now it’s steaming slightly from its nostrils. These nostrils are about the size of my face, by the way, and it’s a little scary to look to the side and just see this large hole that’s oozing a little right next to me.
I’m also still wondering how I managed to share a look with a dragon, of all things. I have no other words for this than utterly bizarre.
The man’s almost here. I’m wondering if I should get up to greet him. I’ve got to be polite in all situations, no matter the circumstances, right?
The eyesore in the neon golf clothes is carrying a machine gun along with a golf club, and this isn’t even the weirdest part of my night. Or maybe it is; I’m really not sure anymore. How did I even get here?
The man’s in front of me now, smiling. It’s actually a very nice smile, and it makes his whole face light up. It’s making me smile too.
“Hello, everybody!” the man says loudly, smiling even wider (if that’s even possible). “I’m so glad I finally found you!”
I’m trying to say something back, respond somehow, but the words are sticking in my throat. I can’t say anything; nothing’s going to come out. That’s…probably not good.
The dragon snorts and says, “About time you got here. We’ve been waiting for ages.”
The dragon talks. Huh. Well, that’s a thing now. I feel like I should be more surprised, but I think I’ve gotten used to the fact that I’m not really feeling anything very strongly right now.
“Shut up,” says the man, and he sprays a line of bullets right in front of the dragon’s feet. “I’m not here for you.”
The dragon snorts at him then spreads its wings above our heads and flies away, apparently disgusted with our actions. Oh great- my only protector here is gone.
My chances of living past tonight are going down like the Titanic. I can feel goosebumps on my arms, and a chill goes down my spine. I still can’t speak, can’t even scream for help. Not that there’s anyone around to help.
My fear only grows when the man turns to me. I’m shivering now, but I can’t move. It’s like I’m paralyzed.
The man just smiles at me and goes, “Darling! I’m so glad you’re safe from this hideous beast!”
Okay. Something strange about this: I’ve never seen this man before in my life. He’s a complete stranger, and I know this for certain, because I know I’d remember that face. So, why is he calling me darling?
The man kept talking. “I’m here as a reminder, darling! You’ve forgotten me, but you’ll remember soon!”
Oh man. This dude’s seriously creepy. I start praying for the dragon to come back and maybe eat the crazy golfer with a machine gun.
Naturally, my prayers aren’t answered.
The man stops talking; I think he might have noticed that I stopped listening a little while ago. He reaches up and cups my face with one hand, and strokes my cheek with his thumb. He smiles again, and says, “Remember, darling, don’t trust everything you see.”
It’s as if those words were a spell- I can move again, and my first reaction is back, away from the man. He puts down his machine gun and lifts his golf club. I have an immediate bad feeling about what he’s going to do, and then it happens- he swings it towards my head, and because I’m too slow to dodge, it hits me right in the temple.
That crack is the last thing I hear before I pass out.
I wake up in my bed. It’s Sunday morning, and I feel fantastic. Generally, I never feel this good on any morning; must be because of that crazy dream I had last night. ‘Shrooms, am I right?
And then I realize that it wasn’t a dream. Mostly because there’s crusted blood on the side of my face. There’s a golf club in the corner (I don’t golf and never have), and my shoes, which are lying on the floor near my bed, seem a little…singed.
I have so many questions. What happened after I passed out? Who was that man? Was there really a dragon next to me?
What is going on?
Well, there’s only one thing I know for certain right now, and it’s that I need to know what happened last night. I guess the first stop is to talk to my friends?
I get out of bed and I immediately notice something- there’s a bracelet or something around my ankle. It’s smooth and round, but when I sit back down and try to take it off, it beeps and a flashing message appears on it: come to the golf course at 9:00 tonight.
Not very subtle, is he?