I just got this really cool D&D writing prompt journal for my birthday (came from a good friend of mine). Don’t be surprised if a bunch end up on this site.
Prompt: You stand at the edge of a dark wood that is rumored to haunted with dangers unseen. How do you feel? What memories do you recollect? Disclaimer: everything written below is fiction.
This wood is where it happened. These primeval, black trees. They sit at the back of my family’s farm. We were told to never go near them. It’s too dangerous! That’s why the fence line was built twenty feet away. Yet, no one told us why. Why was it dangerous? Why did we need steer clear? The curiosity was too much for my brother and I. He was older and always looking out for me, his little sister. But, that day, I should’ve been looking out for him.
We stood at the edge of the wood like I am right now. We just wanted a peek. Just a glimpse as to why it was so dangerous. Then, the melody slipped past our ears. A smooth and slow song. “Come to me. Come to me.” Like a lullaby, it drew me in. It reminded me of my mother’s voice and a sense a serenity calmed me. I found myself taking a step into the wood.
The crunching of dead twigs shot start through my heart and I broke free of the enticing song. I backed away into the safety of the sunlight. I wanted to run. Whatever had come over me chilled terror to the deepest parts of my heart, but I couldn’t leave my brother.
I’ll never forget his face. He had never made that face before. His pupils were dilated and longing ached his expression. He didn’t hesitate to walk into the woods.
I had never screamed so loud. I tried to stop him. I tried to pull him back, but he fought me. He didn’t even look at me as he shoved me down. He just kept going toward the wood and he disappeared into the dark.
The village wrote him off as dead. It was just too dangerous for anyone to even think about going after him, but I never gave up. Ten, long years have passed. Ten, long years of training, work, and research. I dedicatedly everything I am to this moment. It won’t entice me. I know the song. I know how to beat it. It may not be the only thing in the wood, but it’s the only thing I’m after. It’s not fear or a song that drives my first step into the wood, but my crusade to behead the thing that took my brother.
Feature image taken from the cover of my Dungeon & Dragons Writing Prompt book: The World Builder’s Journal of Legendary Adventures.