GoodWrites discussion

Hiya Loves <3

Here is the writing prompt for this week! I'm on school holidays so can't wait to do this one!
"Write a story about a secret group or society."

MIAcat <3

Hiya Loves <3

Here is my short story for this week's prompt. *Make sure to post your stories as they will help you earn votes towards author and/or member of the month*

Every full moon, at exactly 12:12 a.m., the lights in the old clock tower on Haven Street flickered twice. Most were asleep, and those who were awake in the town of Elmbrook never paid much attention—just a quirk of an aging electrical system, they thought. But inside the tower, behind a locked iron door and up seventy-seven spiral steps, a secret group gathered around a round oak table. They called themselves The Midnight Society. Each member wore a silver key around their neck. Each had a job in the town—teacher, mechanic, florist, baker—but they all shared one purpose: to protect Elmbrook from the forgotten things. Things that didn’t exist on paper anymore. Like the Whispering Man, a creature that used to haunt dreams before people forgot how to describe him. Or the Black Dog, who once waited at crossroads to bargain for secrets. Or the Mirror Girl, who could step through glass before her name was erased from stories. The Midnight Society remembered them all. Because in Elmbrook, when the townspeople forgot, these things didn’t disappear.

They got loose.

On a damp October night, a little boy named Eli told his teacher about the monster under his bed.

“It sings,” he whispered. “It knows my name.”

The teacher, Ms. Arlen, smiled—but her face went pale. That night, she climbed the clock tower.

“We’ve got a breach,” she told the others. “Something’s come back.”

The Society didn’t hesitate. They opened the black book—its pages filled with careful drawings and vanishing ink—and found the creature: The Lullaby Man, erased in 1933 after a fire in the town orphanage.

“He’s singing again,” said the baker grimly. “We’ll have to trap him in story.”

That night, Eli dreamed of a staircase that led to the stars. He walked up and up, until the singing stopped. A woman stood at the top, holding a book.

“Name him,” she said.

Eli whispered the name. The next morning, the monster was gone. And a new page had been added to the black book. The Midnight Society met once more beneath the ticking clock. And the town of Elmbrook woke up safe, never knowing what they had almost remembered.

Hope you enjoyed reading!
MIAcat <3

It’s cool I like it, I can imagine all the entities that they would have to put to rest over the course of time.

I’d like to experience more of these, it kinda makes me think of Yokai or something along those lines.. I’m sure they would be awesome, stories.

Here’s my story. I wrote this at work today on my lunch break and a little when I got home. ^_^
This is my first time posting a story online.

Coyote Moon

 
 Sometimes, often times, secrets had a way of unraveling people down to a primal level. The more potent the secret, the harder the impact, like a sledgehammer to the face. The result from such a secret could very well rock the foundation of a person’s life.
 One such person by the name of Oscar Valentino of Los Perdidos California found himself in just such a predicament. 
 The desert sands blew high against the town a mile south of his current location. The town for which he knew and loved these sixty odd years might possibly end up in his rear view mirror. For good this time. 
 Oscar himself wasn't the secret keeper, only he stumbled onto something that was never meant to be discovered. 
 Oscar was a simple man, he only needed a few things to keep him happy. The space rock from the seventies that he so loved, some MJ and a belly full of food. Oh and the feel of nature on his back, all that pot he smoked out there in the desert made him feel more connected. Oscar seemed to fashion himself as some kind of wise old sage when he wasn’t working on cars at his little shop.
 On his back, he stared out blankly across the horizon. The pain was tremendous but he would not allow himself to focus on the sensation.
 Soon now he would bleed out, here amongst the lizards and cacti. He would return to the Earth.
 These punks, what did they call themselves? The Secret Society of the End? They showed up here out of nowhere and they cut him with some kind of ceremonial dagger. Never had Oscar felt pain like this. Gingerly, he pressed a hand to his stomach.
Come on old timer, you can get yourself out of this jam. 
 Oscar had a deep slash from his abdomen up to his ribs and he knew inside that he would not live to see another sunset. Worse than that his favorite shirt, a Hawkwind Space Ritual shirt; signed by Dave and Lemmy, was now ruined. A grimace stretched across his face at this. The man's long salt and pepper hair blew in the wind, like waiving goodbye to the past.
 The ones that did this to Oscar were now circling around him. Shades haunting the darkest corners of a nightmare someone once had. They were elders of the pueblo, the secret keepers of Los Perdidos. A order older than time itself some believed.
 Of course, Oscar knew these cloaked idiots from town. They didn't mask their voices in any way. There was no suprise to him that they should be involved in some phony order like this. Secret Society of the End? More like the Secret Society of Old Farts.
 Earlier in the afternoon, he had been cruising the dunes, racing the sun across the hills when he saw a glint off in the distance. A gleaming something or other, under the relentess rays of the sun.
 So, as anyone with an ounce of adventure in their heart and marijuana in their brain would do, he hurried to the destination post haste. He knew now that this was a mistake, maybe he would be the cat that curiosity would kill. In fact, almost certainly he would.
 As he made it to the spot, he found a strange apparatus. It was alien in design, like nothing he had ever seen. It was large and from the part that had stuck out from the sand it went deep. He attempted to dig it out but the process was exhausting and he gave up. 
 To this man who lived off the land, spoke with the sun, drifted with the winds from one corner of the day to the smallest pocket of the night. This buried artifact didn't mean a whole lot to him. Only to them, those who governed the shadows they only hungered for blood or something dramatic like thar.
 Whatever the thing was, it sure was cool. In his contemplation regarding how it was that he ended up here he had completely forgotten about the Secret Society of Whosa whatsit. Until they deigned to open their mouths.
 "This is our temple old friend, which we consecrated so very long ago. You have defiled this place with your prodding hands." Eustace Copperbucket spoke aloud, in a measured tone.
 "I ain't your friend, no matter how long I've seen your face. Your council means nothing to me. These lands belong to the earth." Oscar replied and spat at their feet.
 "Be that as it may, the fact remains the same," he stated indignantly. 
 As the sun was now setting over the horizon, Oscar was racing it in his mind one last time. The sun that gave life to all was giving way yet again to the moon.
 "Los Perdidos was founded with the sole purpose of guarding this artifact for the rest of eternity," Mary Wethermore said.
 "I don't give two shits about your backwards history lesson," he said testily. "Finish what you started." He shifted in the sand trying to look up at these three stooges. "I have a very important appointment to keep with a dear friend of mine," he coughed painfully. "He's going to shepherd me to the great space yard in the sky." Oscar spoke jovially as he propped himself up on his elbows.
 "You, sure do talk a lot for a dying man," Mary stated.
 Then, in the distance the appearance of the moon brought some hungry friends. Not too distant howling warned that they were on their way to the party. Strap yourselves in folks it's going to be a wild ride.
 Oscar laughed loudly into the burgeoning darkness. Doing so pained him and a moan of distress escaped his lips. He coughed a spurt of blood, but this was okay because he knew something that the secret keepers didn’t.
 Mary and Eustace looked around warily. The, up until now silent, Donald Potter unsheathed the ornamental blade, the one which had left that screaming wound on Oscar's side.
 "Shut up, you don't tell us what to do. This is our gig, not yours," Donald insisted.
 "Not anymore secret keeper." Oscar replied. "My real friends are here to steal the show."
 Just as the secret society of the End had surrounded him, the coyotes now encroached on the its members. Older than time itself, not a chance. Just a few wannabes in black robes.
 "They really are my friends ya know? I feed them everyday. Cold cuts mostly, they got a taste for meat," he winked. “I think this gaping slash in my belly called them here. They smelled blood and they came, hungry.” He chuckled and winced.
 The sound of the growling intensified, and Eustace's bladder let loose. Just at that moment, the leader of the pack looked moon-ward and howled. There were seven coyotes in all, and they got to work. Mary fell over, attempting to run away, face first into the still hot sands.
 Three of the hungry canines lunged for Mary, and in the next second, white hot pain turned her body into a furnace of agony.
 “Call them off, please.” Mary choked out as the Coyotes made dinner of her. “Please for the love of all that is holy.” 
 “Fat chance," Oscar groaned in dusgust.
 Gathering all his strength, Oscar jumped to his feet. With surprising speed considering his injury he hustled through the sand towards his abandoned Jeep. Donald grabbed the back of his shirt tearing his collar.
 Of course, it wouldn't be that easy. 
 “You really wanna make me mad, huh, fool!? That’s my favorite shirt your mangling," he cried.
 “Sorry, Oscar, but I’m not going to let you get away! I don’t care how many times you’ve repaired my car.” Donald exclaimed as he pulled Oscar towards him.
 “Screw you Don," he raised his hand in a rude gesture to show him exactly how he felt.
 Oscar swiveled painfully, and grabbed Donalds arm. Fighting through the alarming warning of pain, he tossed him over his shoulder. As he landed, Donald dropped the ornamental knife into the sand. With oscar's brain on autopilot, he bent down to grab it and struggled to maintain his balance in the sand. The wound on his side was so painful that things were becoming increasingly difficult to pull off.
 Oscar screamed, the mirthless sensation in his side wouldn’t let him forget about the laceration.
 Looking around, he saw that the coyotes were having their feast of flesh. Mary and Eustace screamed in pain as they were torn apart piece by piece. Oscar slid the knife into his boot and pressed on towards his beautiful trusty grey 1996 Jeep Wrangler.
 Donald wouldn't give up, he always was a pain in the ass. In a miraculous feat, he jumped at Oscar and managed to grab his ankle. Oscar bent down to grab the knife from his boot when two of the coyotes started to tear into Donald. Still he wouldn't let go.
 Oscar slashed Donald's hand, finally forcing him to lose his grasp. As he turned to head back to his Jeep, he saw a strange light emanating from Mary and Eustace's bodies. It was being siphoned into the strange artifact in the sands. A blue force glowing brilliantly.
 Oscar felt it deep in his bones, that it was taking their souls. This thing buried here in the desert, what exactly was its purpose. Supposing there were more of these jokers out there, and there probably were. What would he do? Maybe it was time to beat tracks into the sand and go somewhere else.
 Donald looked up at Oscar right before the life was torn out of him, with pleading eyes. The hungry pack finished their dinner. That same blue light emitted from Donald and flooded into the great, frightening artifact.
 “Claro que sí, it’s time to move on, I don’t want to come back to Los Perdidos ever again. They can keep their secrets.”
 Oscar hopped into his jeep cranked on the engine, "Magnu" from Hawkwind blasted from his cassette deck. He looked back one last time and took off over the horizon. 

Joey's deathly tomes of death wrote: "It’s cool I like it, I can imagine all the entities that they would have to put to rest over the course of time.

I’d like to experience more of these, it kinda makes me think of Yokai or somethin..."


Wow, I'm really glad you joined our group and post a story! This is a wildly entertaining piece with a strong character voice and vivid atmosphere. A little constructive criticism, it would benefit a lot from a tighter sentence structure and some tone refinement to sharpen the impact and elevate the pacing. All up, I really like this piece of writing.

MIAcat <3

Thank you, I greatly appreciate the feedback. IRL, I'm a bit of a windbag, lol. So, in my writing, I have been trying to tighten things up. I'll continue hammering away.
I'm excited to see what the next writing challenge will be.