Your death or others

I had a weird dream last night. And I just want to start off by saying if you don’t like disturbing things, then you probably shouldn’t keep reading. But if you want a creepy story prompt – go for it.

Suppose you’re on a lake. Not literally on it, as in sitting in a boat or what not, but you’re standing at the edge, your head tilted back, waiting for the sunshine, except these huge storm clouds are growing. Hulking grey giants, they quickly spawn several tornadoes.

Now you’re wondering where to run because it’s not like there are several buildings around, and the most you can do is follow the sidewalk, which somehow has a ladder spawn in the middle of the grass. Not knowing what else to do, and realizing underground is much better than above ground, you climb inside, finding a half open area still exposed to the weather. You can feel the wind picking up, and although you’re happier being somewhat covered, all you can think is lower. I must go lower. After all, these could be F5 tornadoes. They could destroy everything in their path.

So the next you thing you do is eye this hatch that looks like it’s made for a submarine, except it’s sitting in the middle of the wall, and thinking this looks safer, you open it up.


There’s ash. Mountains and mountains of ash.

And bones.

What you’ve stumbled upon is an old cremation oven for human bodies, except these bodies don’t like they were fired all the way because some of the ash is still holding their shape, and some of that ash looks like bone, and you can barely make the shape of a few skulls holding themselves together.

You can’t stop thinking about the Holocaust anymore. How there’s too many bodies crammed inside, too much ash had collected for this to be a legal, medical thing. And standing there for a moment, slowly the aura builds. This huge creeping invisible cloud that sits like a weight on your lungs, and you find yourself struggling to breathe. But it could also be the wind picking up, starting to rip the air off your breathe.

You have to make a decision. Now.

Do you stay outside – die by tornado? Or do you go inside – and sweat among bodies that you know were probably murdered alive?


This dream has made me think a lot. It’s made me ask myself, am I more disturbed by death or the death of others? It’s also made me wonder, why are we as a species so concerned with macabre topics? Does the constant exposure dull the edge of the fact that are lives are finite? I know this is probably a highly researched topic, but it’s one I think all writers should consider.

What would you do in this situation?


No pain, no gain

I haven’t posted a lot on here lately – luckily I can blame school for that x 2 – but there’s something I just want to marinate on: One thing I love about writing is that it allows you to explore the what if‘s. What if planes were never invented? What if humans never evolved? What if we evolved too far, breaking the limits of space exploration?

I love writing for that.

And one thing I’ve been stuck on today – and maybe this is a prompt you can use – what if you could share pain? All the sudden things that were violent are so much riskier because now there’s the possibility of the danger of pain, or at least more than normal. If someone murders someone, maybe they feel that pain. Maybe an EMT just isn’t medically trained, but someone with high pain tolerance that can share their support for those injured. How would this have impacted wars or the Holocaust if all the sudden people could share their pain? Would the Nazis have never done those horrible things to people if all the sudden they could share their pain, witness the terrible things they’ve done?

All the sudden you’re talking about war prevention, higher values of empathy. Maybe this is the difference between one society and ours – they can share pain. We cannot. And all the sudden, if pain is like energy, if you share it among many, then the pain is less. It doesn’t feel as bad, and all the sudden it is tolerable – when shared by the group, creating a society that is more structurally supportive of others.

Then this brings up the question, is this pain voluntary? Is it consensual? Or is it something you can force upon others? Is this a defense mechanism?

This is my brain dump in the middle of the night, when I find my mind wandering. Maybe this could be of some use to you.