Let's play a game!
Here's how it's going to work:
1. At least once per week, I'll update this (more often if I can or if I am inspired). I'll do my best to somehow make it a continuous story (note: I said I'll do my best. I may fail, lol).
2. What I need from you? PROMPTS. When you review/comment each chapter, give me a word, a phrase, a song, something. I will pick from one of the prompts you ladies give me to use for the next chapter…
3. No clue how long chapters will be. They might be 100 words. They might be 1000. It will go on until I feel we're at a natural close… or until I completely back myself into a corner.
I have no idea how this will all work out. I make no promises. It might be good. It might be awful. But it'll be fun practice (for me at least) on writing on the fly and maybe fun for you to interact… maybe? Let's try at least, eh? :)
Pairing: ExB, AU (Vampfic)
Genre: Some romance, maybe some drama, maybe a dash of humor, likely no serious angst (unless you prompt me that direction, haha).
Narration: we'll likely hang out in Edward's head the whole time… frankly, because I like him more.
Prompt #1 (to start us off): Fire
Some say the world will end in fire…
I couldn't speak for the world, but as for myself, at least, Mr. Frost had it right.
It took three days and three nights for my body to finally die.
Three days and three nights of blazing fire and smoldering ash. Three days and three nights of silent screams and of sheer, unbridled pain.
My death, as strange as it was to speak of, involved a kind of pain I'd never experienced before. Unstoppable and unyielding, it was like my skin was being peeled away, like molten lava flowed through my veins, like Hell's own bellows pumped the air through to my lungs.
When I tried to open my eyes, red-tinged blackness swirled all around me until it was all I could see. And in my ears, there was a thunderstorm of pounding beats that started out at a rabbit's pace, but then slowed, and slowed, and slowed, until I could count to a hundred between each boom.
I was powerless to stop it. I could only writhe in agony and pray that my mother's God would somehow take mercy on me and let the fire finally consume me.
S. Meyer owns Twilight and lots of other stuff. I have a pocket Edward. I got him on Amazon. He hangs out in my office at work.