EXERCISE Sentence Challenge #2

Discussion in 'INSPIRING MUSES' started by Capt. Blu, Nov 15, 2014.

  1. Another challenge for you because why not!

    Mission: Write a story, description, poem, etc about (or incorporating) the sentence.

    Just burn it all.

    Note: No note this time.
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  2. Two people stood by stacks and stacks of papers. One a woman, the other a male. "What do you want me to do with all of these? This will give them enough evidence to find us later!" Tyler, the rather worried male, shuffled through the stack of records he had been keeping. "Also Ace, not that you're panicking or anything but our plane leaves in about an hour and it takes about two hours to get there. Also, the cops will probably be here within the hour."

    Ace stretched her arms over her head and laughed. "Good. All to plan."

    "What do you mean good!? Stop scheming and not telling me! As your second in command I demand to know." He frowned as Ace laughed even more.

    "You're so funny when you get all riled up like that." Ace gave a devious grin and looked at the stack of papers on the desk. "Just burn it all." She shrugged and then headed to the back exit.

    "Just- They can still find evidence!"

    "Exactly! And when they think we've boarded a flight to Canada, we'll be on our way to Japan. All the evidence leads in the wrong place. I thought you trusted me?" She gave a sly smirk as he lit the papers and watched the flame engulf them.

    "Of course I trust you. It's just...you're way too calm sometimes."

    "Heh, I've gotten that before. Well, let's get out of here. We're taking a cruise ship then a plane."

    "Oh! I've never been on a cruise!"

    "Me neither, let's go."

    And here's my example.
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  3. A young woman, no older than twenty, was walking on a forest trail. She had headphones in, and was humming as she walked, taking in the scenery. She felt her stomach growl, she was getting hungry. The girl pulled out her headphones, and shoved them in her pockets. She then began to search through her purse, smiling when she found her protein bar. She found a somewhat comfy log to sit on as she took a small bit out of the bar. She looked around and frowned, she hadn't seen a single person on the trail. "That's weird, I usually see a couple people when I come walking here.." She shrugged and went back to her snack.

    "Silly Human."

    The woman jumped at the voice, and quickly searched for the owner of the voice. "Hello?.." She called out in vain. There was no one to be seen. She shook her head, "I must just be hearing things I suppose.."

    "You're so oblivious."

    This time the woman jumped up, and grabbed her things. "Seriously, who is there? Show yourself! Stop playing tricks!" She began to quickly search for her pepper spray. She began to jog away from where she thought the voice was coming from.

    "Running is going to get you no where." This voice was even closer.

    She felt a hand grab her shoulder, and she screamed. She whipped around quickly to see who had touched her. What she saw horrified, yet mesmerized her.

    In front of her stood a man, the left side of his face was perfect, almost like porcelain. Now the right side was a different story. The right side of his face was decayed, the flesh and muscle peeled back, revealing bone. Maggots squirmed in and out of the small holes in his face. The woman screamed and tried to fight his grip.

    "There's no use fighting, little lady." He said, flashing a wicked smile. He pulled out a match. He grabbed the woman's hand and placed the match in her hand.

    The woman stared at the man-creature, "A m-match?.." She stuttered.

    He smiled again, and she cringed. "Oh yes, a match, but it isn't an ordinary match dear. " The woman frowned, confused. "And I'm so supposed to do what with it exactly?" He cackled and handed her the match box. "It's rather obvious isn't it? It's to keep the more malevolent beasts at bay." The man then began to walk away, his giggling turning into maniacal laughter.

    The woman's eyes widened, "Hey! Don't leave me here alone, what am I supposed to do with just matches?!!" The man turned around quickly, loose flesh flinging off his face. "It's rather simple...burn it all. Just burn it all." With that said, he was gone.

    The woman stood there, in shock. Her body beginning to shake.

    In the distance she heard a low growl, and she gripped her matches.

    "Just burn it all"
  4. Sky ships, witches, and dragons, she wasn't going to let those memories slip through her fingers.

    Riley Grayson could not let Nowhere go. The Midnight Train, Queen Delirium, and everything she and her friends had been through, the world had to know it existed, that it wasn't just some made up place or a silly rumor.

    Ever since she returned, she dedicated her time to finding the truth, to digging through obscure websites and interviewing the people who were at the station. Sometimes someone would tell her something useful, but most of the time they'd arch an eyebrow and laugh.

    "The Midnight Train doesn't exist."

    "It's just a rumor, kid."

    "Don't waste your time on some fairy tale."

    Riley's room was filled with crumpled papers, with articles, and random writings, with photos that looked more like blurs than anything else. "Can you see it, Kim?" She would insist, eyebrows drawn together and shoulders shaking. "It's the train...it's the train I took on New Year's Eve."

    Kim would give the photograph a long look, but it was just a blur of pastel lights and the evening the sky. "I can't see a thing, Riles."

    "It's the train," the redhead would insist.

    "No, I'm sorry, but it's just a blurry photo."

    Riley avoided her for days after that and things only got worse. Sometimes Kim would find her friend pacing around the living room at night, scribbling down messy notes into her notebook or reading through articles on her laptop. She was obsessed, and it as Riley's best friend, it was Kim's duty to snap her out of whatever this was.

    "I'm going to visit Serah Bryner," Riley declares on one February morning.

    Kim gives her a worried look. "The crazy lady down at Peach Avenue?"

    "The woman who wrote that website I showed you...the one whose sister went missing."

    "Listen, Riles, I know this is important to you." Kim stepped between her best friend and the door. "I don't know what happened on New Year's Eve and I don't know what this is, but you've been worrying your parents and you've been scaring me."

    Riley said nothing.

    "This has to end," she gestured to the blurry photos tacked to the walls and papers strewn around the living room. "Just....just burn it all, forget about this train. I'm sure there are better stories out there, more believable ones."

    "Maybe you're right," Riley struggled to find the right words, "but people have to know." Kim never believed her, no one ever did. Riley pushed past her friend and marched out into the street. She'd find the midnight train and prove it...maybe, er, hopefully.
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  5. Officer Kent sat at his desk, mulling over the recently closed case file, still riding the sweet high of victory. It was his dirty little secret file, after all. His trophy. His hidden pleasure, and giant middle finger to the department. A contented sigh escaped his lips. He could still freshly remember the pleasure of setting that restaurant on fire. And with all those people inside, too. Kent's gaze wandered over the photo's of his victims, reviewing each with a morbid attention to detail. How wonderful that night had been for a closet psychopath like him.

    "Kent! Stop daydreaming and get over here. I need your help with this damn fax machine."

    Stirring from within himself, Kent hurriedly set the case folder down, looking over his shoulder at the one who had spoken. Standing five feet, six inches tall, with a gut of nearly the same proportions, was his partner: Officer Lane. With the look of a child trying to construct a space rover, Lane tentatively touched buttons on the fax machine with one hand while scratching his fat and balding head with the other. Kent smiled. The bastard was like a child. A very fat, stupid child. Had been ever since they teamed up those many years ago.

    "Next you'll be asking me to tie your shoes, I expect." Kent said exasperatedly, standing up with a stretch and a yawn. He toyed with the idea of his partner dying from a horrible accident in his mind, though his smile never wavered.

    "Yeah yeah smart ass, very funny. Seriously though, I gotta fax this confession to the court house and schedule the trial."

    Kent picked up his coffee from his desk, sipping it as he strode past a few rows of desks and a bustling secretary. Interesting that the set up had gone off without a hitch. No doubt this poor fool would be staring through bars for a long time. Kent on the other hand, would be free as a bird.

    "Alright, lemme take a look at it." Kent said, motioning for his partner to leave him. Lane bristled a bit at being simply waved away, but he sucked in his pride and obeyed. Good little bitch. Kent thought, smiling. Lane was very submissive to him. Mainly because he was so retarded, he constantly needed to borrow Kent's brain just to appear as a functioning human being.

    As he opened the fax machine's primer slot, something caught Kent's eye. Lane had left the confession statement sitting in the tray. A shiver of pleasure ran up Kent's spine. The wonderful feeling of getting away with murder. Mmmm. Can't beat it. Pausing what he was doing, Kent skimmed the confession with his eyes. He read through all the boring interview details. Blah blah this, blah blah that, blah blah tell us what you know. Puke. As soon as he felt that his brain was going to explode from lack of interest, the actual confession statement shone forth, bright as day. It went a little something like this.

    OFFICER LANE: "So, you're telling me you did it."

    FAKE CULPRIT: "Only because I've been sitting here for hours, telling you I'm innocent and that doesn't seem to fly with you."

    OFFICER LANE: "Look. I wanna play good cop and all that shit, but you've got a list of Arson's already on your record that kinda make it hard to take your side."

    FAKE CULPRIT: "Yeah, I got that. Shit, life is a bucha bullshit anyways, so why don't we just seal the deal. I did it. Yeah. I did it, and fuck you too."

    OFFICER LANE: "Considering your facing some major jail time, I'll let that one slide. So, out of sheer curiosity, what thoughts were running through your screwed up head when you committed all of these horrible crimes, you sick fuck?"

    FAKE CULPRIT: "Just burn it all, man. Just burn it all."

    Kent grinned maniacally. He had been thinking the same thing.
  6. You feel worthless,
    Beaten down,
    And out of date,
    But these will come to pass.

    You feel useless,
    Torn apart,
    And smashed down,
    But these will be over soon.

    You hate this,
    Yes, you loathe it.
    So write down everything,
    Turn these thoughts to words.

    Take these feelings,
    Put them in a box.
    They're only paper.
    Just burn it all.

    Watch the sparks,
    Watch the smoke,
    As it ascends,
    And become yourself again.
  7. He peered into the trailer with his shirt pulled over his nose. A simple phrase his mother used to say to him came to mind as he stared into the rot and filth that seemed to fill the place from its subspace flooring to the very ceiling: "You get what you pay for."

    No wonder that lady handed this thing off to him for a dollar.

    "Oh, God," he gagged, as he realized that the bathroom threshold was entirely blackened with... something. It was thick, dried, and unsettling to stare at. He was almost convinced that it would move. This was his problem now - she'd signed over the deed, and he had been desperate.

    He wasn't this desperate though.

    A rat ran past his leg, and he shouted, "Ugh, I'm gonna just burn it all."
  8. She sat on the floor in front of the fireplace with a shoe box in her lap. It was full of envelopes, some tied together with ribbon some shifting around freely. All but the very latest were faded and yellowing, but she'd saved every single one. She lifted the only letter that was not in the box and her eyes misted with tears. This letter was typed, not written like the others. It was cold and formal and had been sent by a stranger, but someone who obviously knew her.

    Her high school sweetheart Jason, had always written her the most amazing letters. He'd tell her about his travels, his vacations, even football camp. Every letter was personal and dear and she felt like he knew her better than she knew herself at times. People envied their relationship and she was careful to take care of him, and that relationship because of it. She always felt there was someone waiting in the wings for her to make a mistake, so she could steal Jason away.

    But that had no happened, and Jason proposed two weeks ago. She had been so happy. But then the letter came and destroyed everything she thought she knew. It was from a woman named Evelyn,or maybe she was using a fake name, who knew? But Evelyn was apparently already married to Jason and was even expecting their first child in three months. Reading the letter had left her numb. Her mother happened upon her sitting on the sofa staring at nothing with the letter in her hand and had taken it and read it thinking it contained some terrible news like a death of some kind. And so it was. The death of all her dreams, and plans and future wishes was wrapped up in that one page letter.

    Her mother came with a cup of hit tea and sat on the floor beside her, "What are you going to do?"

    "Burn it all," She said as she set the typed letter aside to keep, but opened the box of all the saved letter. "I'm going to burn it all...and somehow remember to breathe." She began throwing packets of letters into the fire and watching the flames lick at the pages hungrily, tears streaming down her cheeks as her Mother wrapped an arm around her shoulders to hold her.