I like doing these. I actually have a notebook filled with stories and partial stories I intended to go back to but never did. I’m glad I found these Rory Story Cubes because they work really well to jump start the creative process. I’ll get more expansion packs as I find/can afford them.
Five dice used this time, and taking a page from the Young One’s school assignments, I’ll try a “scary” story with no dialogue.
Thought by some to be haunted, rumoured by others to be used for sacrifices, the woods were old woods. The local folk stuck to the narrow trails from centuries of pedestrianism without much conscious thought about it, but, if asked, they all had a story about someone who didn’t…
One such story involved a man and that which was not a man.
Locals who weave the tale for seasonal tourists embellish the drama and claim it was an alien that attacked Walter Mott that dark August night. Local, quieter, skeptics suspect the man was spooked by a large owl, if it was anything of substance at all. But tourists don’t come looking for those stories when the sun goes down.
Black cats and crosses, Maeve Reece thought to herself as she strolled past a small group of awe-struck candle holders on the way to the hotel. The family-run business in the village did a tour of “the haunted wood!” every weekend in the summer. Maeve didn’t care one way or the other about their gallivanting usually, but this weekend marked the onset of Summer Solstice and be damned if she wanted random strangers milling about the woods looking for aliens or ghosts while her coven tried to honour the season sky clad.
Meanwhile, Randall O’Day was checking the lightbulbs at the hotel. Renters were complaining about flickering power but the owner and caretaker checked every fuse and bulb in the building and couldn’t find any decent evidence of power fluctuations. In the end, he put it down to nerves. Zany stories and nerves. The worst combination.
Maeve met Randall in the lobby. They nodded to each other. Wordlessly, Randall gestured for the old witch to follow him into the basement. She smiled in acquiescence and quietly walked down the flights after him.
Randall had already entered the room and was still beside the marks on the wall. Maeve stood beside him, silently as well. They each nodded to the One; they had no other term for it, as it was neither a he or she. The One scanned and measured them as it had every other visit, marking them again as known and accepted by the strange creature. The shared a glance; the secrecy was hard to keep, but they knew it was worth it.
Somehow.
One Minion's Opinion 