Writing Prompts: Think out of The Box [Scene Stealers]

    Welcome to Scene Stealers, our series of writing prompts designed to flex your creative muscles.

    We’re thrilled that so many of you are participating in our writing prompt series. (Read the other Scene Stealers here and add one of your own.)

    In case you’re not familiar with Scene Stealers, here’s how it works:

    • We set the scene
    • You steal it, make it your own, and
    • Share your creation in the comments section of this post

    Of course, it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to share your work, but we hope you’ll do the exercise anyway.

    The ground rules:

    • You must use the exact wording we provide—in this case it must appear in the beginning of your story.
    • Your story must be 350 words or less.
    • Your work must be original and not previously published.
    • WTD provides an encouraging and safe environment for writers to grow and learn from each other. We’d love you to comment on other people’s submissions in a friendly and supportive manner.
    • We reserve the right to delete any comments or entries we deem inappropriate and those that do not meet the specifications above.

    This month’s instalment is designed to help you think out of the box.

    Scene Stealer #10

     And then I bit him. 

    Now steal this and make it your own.

    I can’t wait to read what you come up with, so please add your submission to the comments section of this post.

    Check out our other writing prompts for inspiration!

    Mary Jaksch is Editor-in-Chief at Write to Done. Grab her FREE report How to Write Like an A-List Blogger. Mary has helped thousands of students successfully create outstanding and profitable blogs at  A-List Blogging and is the blogger behind Goodlife ZEN.

    Image: Out of the box courtesy of Bigstockphoto.com

    About the author

      Mary Jaksch

      Mary Jaksch is best known for her exceptional training for writers at WritetoDone.com and for her cutting-edge book, Youthful Aging Secrets. In her “spare” time, Mary is also the brains behind GoodlifeZEN.com, a Zen Master, a mother, and a 5th Degree Black Belt.

    • Afzal says:

      “And then I bit him.”

      My five years old nephew came out from shower adorning himself with a cute pinkish towel.I found his hair wet.

      He suddenly asked me to size him up.

      I asked my cute little nephew “why dear?”

      He reported that he had only poured water on his head;not interseted in taking bath.

      I sized him, of course with some kisses;as I always do.

    • Mona says:

      And then I bit him. Hard. His thumb was between my teeth and I pressed down as hard I could. He screamed and I tasted blood in my mouth. My attacker jerked away and stared at me with naked hate in his eyes.
      – You fucking bitch! he yelled as he pressed his wounded hand against his chest. – You’ll pay for this.
      I’m not usual a cruel and sadistic person, but now with adrenaline pumping through me and filling me with a cold intense anger, made me imagine the man lying bloody on the ground. And I loved the image. I felt my face split into a wicked and slightly psychotic smile. He flinched and took a step back.
      – Bring it on! I said, but it wasn’t my voice. At least not a voice I’ve ever used before. It was hard and mocking, almost amused.
      Then I took a step towards him, not caring that he as twice my size or that he could easily pick me up without any effort. The anger inside me wasn’t reasonable. “He attacked me.” It said. “He wanted to rob me, maybe even rape me. NO! Not me. He picked the wrong girl.”
      The man didn’t move. He just gaped at me. Unsure about what to do, he looked afraid and behind the anger in my mind a small voice told me; “Good job.”
      – You mental cunt! he screamed and fled down the street.
      – Coward! my new strange voice yelled after him.
      As the man disappeared around the corner I stumbled and fell to my knees. My head rushed, full of images about what could have happened. The taste of blood was strong in my mouth and made me nauseous. I took a deep breath and slowly stood up. I turned around and started to walk.
      The street was empty and the night was cool. “Keep breathing.” I told myself. “Just keep breathing.”

    • This info is priceless. Where can I find out

    • Allison says:

      I eyed the shriveling piece of meat. Interesting how attached they were to their feelings, how much they loved the positive and shunned the negative.
      For my kind, we were able to keep them down by our kiss. Nothing quite tastes like soul.
      So I bit him.
      Or rather, I tried.
      The accursed words came from the one with a scar on his forehead.
      No! Nothing tastes as good as a soul, and this one was particularly plump with so many warm–
      I had no choice in the matter as I was thrown up in the air by the stag.
      If I had a mouth, I would’ve growled right then.
      I silently signaled my mate, but she was unable to respond before being tossed by the stag as well.
      By then, we had gotten the message. We were unwelcome to feed here.

    • Nicholas Cole says:

      And then I bit him.

      I wasn’t entirely sure why I was doing it, but as my teeth sank in to his calf there was a squelching noise, a powerful tensing of muscle, and a roar of pain. I felt a deep, animal satisfaction with my work. Then the big man’s free foot flailed out in a a pathetic kick that brushed my tail, threw him off balance and sent him sprawling to the ground.

      I felt a moment of jarring dissonance. Half of me was flooded with the rush of fighting off this invader, but deep within me another kind of amusement welled up at the ridiculous scene. I released the leg. Blood dripping from my jaws was warm, rich, and nothing like the copper taste I recalled. I jumped on the man’s chest, and an anger greater than that of a simple animal coursed through me. I stared deep in to the man’s eyes.

      “Jesus…” he whispered softly, his own eyes dancing in disbelief. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh. Shit.” His eyes darted from mine to the lumpy black object in the corner. Then he flailed again, wildly. I was tossed aside. As he ran frantically towards the door I shouted sharply after him, but something held me rooted in place. I heard a noise that choked and rumbled as I stopped shouting and padded over to the thing he’d left behind. I sniffed it. It had a strange but familiar scent.

      In the background there was a high-pitched screech, followed by a roar that seemed like it would tear a part of me away down the street. I fought it hard, clamped my jaws around the open flap at the top of the bag, and started walking backwards.

      (I went the dog route as well, although there’s something strange going on here. Hope I wasn’t too heavy-handed with it. This is very much new to me.)

    • Judith Krouse says:

      “And then I bit him.”

      After all I was only three years old and he upset me. The cloth horsey was mind and I wanted to play with it. My daddy gave it to ME! Of course, he went crying to mama.

      “She bit me for no reason!” he exclaimed to a shocked mother, who thought I wouldn’t do such a things as that. For I was always smiling and wanting a lot of hugs.

      “What did you do, honey?” she asked.

      ” I shook my head no and gave a very unhappy frown, with tears in my eyes.

      “Give her a spanking. She was mean,” he demanded.

      “Now, wait a minute. Did you bite him?”

      I shook my head yes, as I couldn’t speak.

      “Did you want to hurt him?”

      I shook my head no. “He took my horsey,” I cried.

      “We don’t want to hurt anyone. What do you think we should do to make up for it?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “Royce, do you think you should have taken the horse from your sister, without asking?”

      “I guess not.”

      “Maybe, we can give each other a hug to make things better.”

      And it was better after that.

    • “And then I bit him.”

      The phrase kept turning itself over in my head as I pictured having to explain myself.

      “Hey! What the hell is wrong with you!”

      My head snapped in his direction as I was pulled from my thoughts. There he was. So smug. Always walking around, acting like he was better than everybody. God, I hated him.

      And now I had to muster up some sort of apology that included a passable explanation for my behavior. And there wasn’t one. How was I supposed to tell him the reason I bit him is because I couldn’t take any more of his know-it-all, has-a-response-for-everything, never-let-anyone-get-a-word-in-edgewise attitude?

      Normal people don’t bite other people. Great. That must mean I’m not normal… on top of everything else.

      As this realization hit me, I did the only thing that came to mind. I half-smiled and gave him two pistol pointer fingers. “Gotcha!”

      Oh my god. I am so lame. Did I really just do that? I am never going to live this down.

    • Elizabeth says:

      And then I bit him. Hard. Drops of blood trickled into my mouth and the metallic taste danced on my tongue. He bellowed in rage and knocked me to the floor. After glancing at his bloodied arm, kicked his foot into my rib cage, sending me flying into the bed-side table. My head bounced off the edge and fell to the floor. The pain was nearly unbearable. I wanted to moan and cry, but I didn’t dare give him the satisfaction.
      Without another look in my direction, Darrel made his way back over to Carrie. I screamed and pleaded with him to leave her alone. I tried to get up to stop him, but my body wailed in objection. Every move I made left me feeling wretched and wishing for death. Ignoring me, he took the yellow stuffed bunny that I had gotten Carrie for her first birthday and placed it on her face. Unconscious, Carrie made no movement. Darrel pressed the toy into my daughter’s tiny face.
      I gathered up every bit of energy I could muster and made one last attempt to save my daughter’s life. From my spot on the floor, I lunged at Darrel’s knees. He stumbled ever so slightly and dropped the stuffed rabbit. I collapsed at his feet. I heard the sound of feet running up the staircase.
      “Step away from the baby and put your hand in the air!” shouted the officer.
      Darrel must have refused to surrender, because the next sound I heard was a gunshot. He fell dead on the floor next to me.
      I smiled. I smiled because the next sound that I heard, and the last sound that I knew I would ever hear again, was Carrie crying.

    • Pragati says:

      And then i bit him with all the strength left in me. I ran towards the door as fast as i could.I knew i had to get away from here, from this monster. This was my only chance to get away and i wasted no time.
      I was a mess. I was wearing the same clothes the day i was kidnapped. My favorite red sweater, jeans and my blue sneakers.But all that was gone now and i was left with torn clothes. All i wanted to do now was to get away from here. Get home to my parents, my siblings, the place where i used to feel safe and no one could harm me.
      This thought was the only thought that was in my mind right now. i kept running until i found the door and i quickly ran outside. I found a gas station and asked for a phone. I called my parents and waited there until they came and picked me up.
      Within minutes my parents arrived with the police. I told them where i had been kept and they apprehended my kidnapper. I was given medical attention and then i finally went home with my parents never to look back.

    • Ian Brophy says:

      And then I bit him.

      At first … nothing.

      I slowly became conscious of six pairs of eyes staring at me and six mouths twisted into malevolent grins. They were waiting for a dramatic reaction.

      My guts was churning, threatening to give them the reaction they wanted.

      It was the first time I had eaten rat.

      They had chosen the biggest male they could find. They said that I was their honoured guest so I should have the biggest one. They had gutted and skun it like a rabbit, then skewered it lengthwise with a long bamboo skewer. They grilled it over the coals, turning it like a spit until it was cooked.

      I became conscious of the taste. It was gamy and like nothing I had experienced before. Someone had told me that it was a bit like hare, but I had never tasted hare.

      I was determined not to offend them, so I sat silently, sure they could hear my guts churning. I was determined not to be one of those foreigners who accused them of eating food which was only fit for animals. I was here to immerse myself in their culture, and it this was what it took then I would do it.

      I sat. They stared.

      Silence. Staring.

      They began to fidget until one of them said, “How was he?”

      “I’ll be honest. I didn’t really like it,” I said

      Suddenly they all laughed and started slapping me on the back. “We don’t like him either. We just trick people.”

      “I see,” I said, and I could not suppress the grin which spread across my face as I realised that I had been set up.

      Rat was not a local delicacy, but they were able to take some revenge on ignorant, arrogant foreigners by telling them that it was and tricking them into eating it.

      I got their joke and took it in good humour. I had passed the test. They now accepted me as an equal.

    • And then I bit him. Of course it was accidental as my jaw had locked for a moment when Smokey the cat jumped on my shoulder when I was fooling around pretending to bite his ear. “Ouch” he said and then laughed as he saw the horror in my eyes of my having hurt the one man who meant so much to me. We look back now and laugh but neither of us don’t fool around with teeth any more.

    • nick says:

      And then I bite him They say a sissy claws and bites when he fights. Well the way I figure it if, some one has me in a choke hold with one arm and a knife in the the other hand, all those rules on how to fight right loose their meaning.. My only thought at this point is to stay alive.And .I’d go as far as chew the whole arm off to live..

      I am glad it didn’t have to come to that.. I must have caught him by surprise, because his hand opened up and the knife flew across the floor.and under the couch.His other arm loosened up on my throat for just a second. Just long enough to break free ..

      No time to think I had to act quickly.. We are talking lucky here., because I swung around with an elbow to his gut. Following that with my boot to his groin.. Both hitting their mark , leaving him doubled over and me beating feet for the nearest exit.

      Moving quickly now I knew it wouldn’t be long before dude would be up and wanting to hurt me bad.. No doubt he will be mad as hell. I really don’t want to press my luck. Remembering now that on the way in, I hide the scooter under some thick brush, just past the clearing ahead. It didn’t take me long to uncover it and kick starting it on the first try..

      Thinking I was home fr… my thought was interrupted by a loud cracking sound as the tree to the left of me exploded scattering chips of wood everywhere. That was enough for me.I was glad to see he was a bad shot,but it was clear that I had over stayed my welcome. .Popping the clutch, I must have burnt rubber for two blocks.and I never looked back till I stopped for gas half hour later..Although there was no sign of anyone in pursuit, I still didn’t waste any time getting to my safe house..

    • Ed says:

      This is the end of the scene starter that I submitted but that was truncated:

      I yelled, “Help! Police! Murder!” At the word police, he dropped the rope and punched me across the face. I tasted blood but shouted even louder, “POLICE! CALL THE POLICE!”
      “Shut the f*** up, you little p***k!” He hit me again and pulled out a dirty handkerchief and pushed it into my mouth. I bit him hard and he screamed, bent down, and held his bleeding hand, his face contorted in disbelief. I struggled free and ran as fast as I could, past him and out of Christie Park. I got my wish that day: I went home with a bloodied nose.

    • Ed says:

      Crazy Danny

      And then I bit him. Biting was dirty fighting. The Geneva Convention for first graders unequivocally forbids it and only a sissy bites in a fair fight. But I could never bring myself to punch someone in the face and bloody his lip or nose. Instead, I avoided fights but this was different, and I could not walk away. This was not a fair fight.
      I knew to stay out of Christie Park, especially when alone. It belonged to the Puerto Ricans and it was scary, and dangerous. As long as you stayed out of the park, they let you be, but that day I had to get home and the fastest way was through Christie Park. Big mistake, but my trouble would not be the Puerto Ricans. It would be with Crazy Danny!
      Crazy Danny was not even afraid of the Puerto Ricans. Based on the stories about him, I would be lucky to get home with a bloodied nose. He was older; he had to be in at least the seventh grade, that is, if he went to school at all. He came from behind and lifted me off my feet. I was gliding in the air, captured by Crazy Danny. He was on roller skates! He smelled badly and his face was round and shiny with sweat, and streaked with red and black like Indian war paint. He started to tie me around a pole. Newspapers burned in a circle around us.

    • Ryan says:

      And then I bit him.

      What did you expect? I was desperate and seconds away from certain death. What would you do?

      I’d heard all the legends. Lured into the vehicle with the promise of food, I was stuffed into the holding cell with so many others. It was cramped, uncomfortable, and decidedly unnatural.

      We were thrown to the side while our the driver turned the vehicle, satisfied with his daily catch. We were so many, packed so tightly together, I was sure that one or two would die before we reached our destination. God help the body of any poor soul that stopped breathing.

      Our vehicle stopped moving and the negotiations began. A loud, eager man with a white truck must have proposed attractive terms, because he soon slid our cell across his smelly truck bed. Despite several desperate attempts by weary prisoners, the slats in our holding cell were not wide enough to squeeze through. These traffickers were professionals—no one was going to escape.

      From the truck to the inside of a cool building. My stomach churned both from hunger and fear. The top of our holding cell was removed and a man dressed all in white started to remove us, one by one. What was the meaning of his hat? Was he an executioner? It couldn’t be—if we were bought, what value was there in our death?

      Through the slats I saw a large can—it must have been poison—with my likeness on it. My fellow captives were taken away for the final torture: boiling water. Can you imagine the indignity? So when my turn came, I knew what I had to do. Picked up high in the air, I snapped my free claw down on that fleshy thumb! The fall to the floor was terrible, but not as bad as it could have been: I only broke two of my legs. And now the race is on! They’re after me, and I hear some shrieking to my left, but I’m quick. If I can just make it through that swinging door, I think I’ll have a chance…

    • And then I bit him.

      The reaction never varied. It was always the same, no matter the man.

      Shock, disbelief, horror. It was comical. I could time it to the second.

      Every man succumbed.

      The late nights trolling the bars, wearing my kick-ass mid-thigh leather skirt and knee-high boots, a revealing top with plunging neckline, the outfit never failed.

      And tonight was no exception.

      I never tire of my game; the coquettish stare, the toss of long blonde locks, the slight open-mouthed pout, the fondling of my wine glass. The come hither look.

      I can see it in their eyes. Always dilated, nostrils slightly flared, the shortness of breath.

      He pays the tab, we exit the bar, he drives or walks me to his place, and then it happens.

      I tell the man to get undressed and lie on his bed. I tell him to wait for me. I tell him I will just be a moment.

      I linger in the bathroom, allowing the excitement and anticipation to build in his mind. Of what might come.

      But what comes is not what he expects.

      I come, slowly, out the bathroom door, slowly, and pad naked to the bed. I stand before him and stare into his eyes.

      He reaches for me, but I admonish him: “Don’t touch.”

      He lies back, aching, waiting for my hot sultry smooth skin.

      I climb onto the bed and crawl towards him, watching his face, waiting for the moment.

      I slowly straddle him and slowly lean across his body.

      He’s tense, hard, agitated.

      I let my locks caress his face, his chest, and I bend down to whisper hot breaths on his sweating skin.

      It is exciting and erotic.

      That is when I plunge my incisors into his carotid, and feel the hot sweet succulent smell of fresh blood as it erupts upon my lips.

      I pull back and watch his face, watch as his life ebbs with every spurt of precious blood.

      The reaction never varied. It was always the same, no matter the man.

    • Zella says:

      And then I bit him. I bit him!

      “Him” is Zandros, a Spiritual Guide from my Interior Kingdom. He is a lone timber wolf: 7 feet long, 38 inches high and 128 pounds. He is the embodiment of my healthy fear, sent to train my mind in the discipline of returning my adult fears to their original, instinctual design.

      As a side note I should mention that it has been stated that a wolf can hear up to 6 miles away in a forest and 10 miles away in open spaces. The wolf also has an ability to smell prey before it can see it, more than a mile away if the wind is right.

      Truthfully, Zandros first began visiting me as a child—telecommunicating to me—calling me to come away—into My Forest of Thought—to walk with him. I would rest my young hand upon his shoulders, unbeknownst of his physical prowess being translated into my believing spirit. In hindsight I realize that Zandros’ energy equipped me in an all manners of instinctual guidance, eventually even saving my life, more than once.

      This morning Zandros was commissioned to return to me and he was very pleased to respond. He came expecting to find the young, believing child, but instead found 53-year-old me—hiding behind destructive thought habits and behaviors—turning fear in upon itself—instead of using it as it was originally, instinctually created.

      Eyes flashing, breath heaving, Zandros begins telecommunicating, “How can this be?”

      I am very aware of his ears standing erect and forward—seemingly glaring down upon me—
      his eyes search my own for clues as to where I have hidden the child.

      I am overcome by his shock and the frustration that comes with my own human condition.

      And those ears! Those glaring ears! In a flurry of motion I grab his right one, pull it between my teeth—and I bite him!

      Uproariously Zandros lets out a goodhearted laugh, “Oh you faithless adult! How long am I to bear with you? Come. Clearly the child is not far away.”

    • thenorthernone says:

      And then I bit him. Hard.

      I’d never tasted blood in that quantity before. I’d sucked my own cuts of course, and the dryness and bitterness was as I remembered, but there was something about having someone else’s fluid in my mouth that I found oddly thrilling. To some, it might have caused disgust, but I found an energy hit my stomach, like a shock.

      I closed my eyes that had, until then, been staring alongside the line of his cheek, and allowed the uncontrollable tension in my face to take over. I bit harder, freely, and with lust.

      Caught between the urgent, primal desire get as far from me as possible and the dawning reality that detaching me from him would include me taking with me a sizable part of his face, he fell between the decisions, pawing at the top of my head ineffectually, all the time dragging from within himself a fearful sound, a high pitched yet guttural wail.

      I found my arms were now, in an action I hadn’t noticed, up around my eyeline and were reaching around the back of his head. I was having to swallow, my saliva and his blood filling my mouth. There was a warmth to the liquid, both actual and psychological, that I found comforting. The inside of my head felt like it was witness to the most intense firework display ever, incredible explosions of light and sound producing an incredible, euphoric rush of sensitivity over my whole body. I was intoxicated more than I’d ever been in my life before.

      Someone had, by now, decided that enough was enough and had (I found out later) located something heavy and blunt to wrap around the back of my head. More fireworks but this time, pain, my pain.

      Increasing my grip on his skull for purchase, I pulled my shaking head to the right, sharply and with a determined power. I spat out the lump of cheek and smiled at his collapsed body right before the second, knockout blow brought us together again as I fell on top of him.

    • gaone says:

      And then I bit him……………..

      I started understanding the meaning of love songs again, because all this time I respected the man he was, my dreams and hopes centered on him. After a series of heartbreaks and disappointment’s I thought my dating journey reached its destination when I met and fell in love with him. Tom and I were the perfect fit we dreamt alike, we had so much in common, our goals were congruent and our relationship was one of its kind. In the few months that I had known him he colored my dreams beautiful. I was so in love with him and I trusted him until and 1 day when I came home earlier than the expected time only to find him having a romantic moment with a woman I called my friend. They were so tightly into each other’s arms on our newly bought couch with TV at its highest volume. I switched off the TV and silently wished to wake up from the nightmare, as they turned around and saw me they both shyly and silently dressed up, I realized it wasn’t a dream it was real and then I bit him

    • Pallav says:

      And then I bit him.

      The world started to vibrate around me as the bitter taste of blood and flesh filled my mouth. I was not going to let go so easily. I bit down harder and my teeth grazed bone.

      There were things happening around me but they were happening to some other person so far gone into the pits of madness that it didn’t matter anymore.

      The person I was biting was smashing my head in with something, I felt no pain. My wrists were getting sliced from the strong ropes that were binding me, I let them. The hundreds of wounds that this bastard had inflicted on my body were stinking and filled with pus, I ignored them. After being hungry, thirsty and lying bound in darkness for past seven days, my body was feverish and weak, but my teeth were strong. They’d had practice.

      The screams only made me angry. Very angry. Angry enough to bite off the hand of the man who had imprisoned me. And, if he was going to kill me here, then so be it. I was beyond caring about death, too. I knew I was going to die with my mouth full of a stranger’s blood and meat. Tied up, wounded and all alone.

      But I had no regrets.

      Eating his daughter was worth it.

    • And then I bit him. The bitter taste of venom and blood filled my mouth. I gagged, spat, then leaned over again to try and suck some more snake venom out.
      Oh, if only the ball hadn’t rolled of the track the class was walking on. If only Billy and I hadn’t raced to see who could get it first. If only… Billy moaned and shivered.
      “Hold on Billy, they will come looking for us soon.’ I don’t know if I said that to reassure him or me. Who was I kidding? We were dawdling at the back of the bunch, the teacher was so far ahead and they probably wouldn’t check the roll till they get to the top of the track. I pulled out my jacket from my backpack.
      “Here, this might keep you warmer,” I said wrapping him up in it. He looked pale. “Oh please don’t die,” I whispered a silent prayer.
      The sun slid silently towards the horizon. I rested my head against a tree and closed my eyes.
      CRACK, a twig snapped. I jumped.
      “Help, help over here,” I called. But a small grey kangaroo bounded out of the bushes, not rescuers. My heart thudded in my chest. I looked at Billy. His eyes were closed, he seemed so small. I brushed his hair out of his eyes, he moaned.
      “Cooee,” came a call.
      “Cooee,” I relied as loud as I could.
      “Over here, guys. There over here, we’ve found them.”
      Flashlights shone in the darkness, people came out from everywhere. Someone wrapped me in a blanket. I saw Billy being lifted onto a stretcher. A wave of fear rushed through me.
      “Is he going to be ok?” I asked.
      “It looks like it,” said the man next to me. “We’ll get you both to the hospital just to be sure.”
      We reached the top of the trail, ambulances and people where waiting for us.
      “Oh honey, thank God!” My mother’s warm arms surrounded me with their love. “It’s going to be fine, just fine,” she said.

      PS: this is not now the emergency procedure for snakebite. Compression bandages would be. But it used to be along with no mobile phones.

    • Barbara Tate says:

      And then I bit him.

      The big ass baby.

      It wasn’t THAT hard of a bite, but he yelped and wailed like someone just drowned his puppy.

      I never could stand a damn whiner. I flung my legs off the couch and stood, stretched and then strode across the room and leaned my elbows on the sill. I looked out the window, up and down the street, to see if anything was going on.

      The ice cream man was coming. Children, mostly under twelve, scattered at light speed, dashing at frantic paces into their apartments with the desperate, wild eyed looks that only those whose very lives depending on getting a bomb pop could present as genuine.

      He heard it too. He stopped rubbing the mark on his shoulder (it was tiny, I am telling you) to walk across the room to look out beside me. He sniffed and dug deep in his pocket for change. “I don’t think that was necessary”, he mumbled. I looked at the mark closely. There was a bit of a tooth impression still there and it just made me want to add another one. I swallowed and distracted myself. “You buying me an ice cream, or what?” I asked.

      “Wha-“, he started to say and then seemed to think about it. He sighed. “Yes, I am buying you an ice cream.” I let him take my hand and we walked out of the hot, airless apartment and down the stairs together. His skinny hip hit against my side with each step and his flip flops made that summer, slappy sound as we descended without a word. My bare feet were silent, stealthy.

      We paused at the doorway. The line was already long and we hovered in the shade, unwilling to brave the direct heat of the sun longer than we had to. He looked at me. The tentatively hopeful look on his face made my heart feel funny. “If I buy you two, will you say you’re sorry?” he asked.

      I laughed. There isn’t that much ice cream in the world.

    • And then I bit him. I didn’t want to. It was as if I could not control myself. I felt as if I were being controlled by a higher being. From top to bottom he was delectably irresistible. I should not have expected anything more and of course nothing less. After all he had been sitting there all morning, his sweet smell kept my senses rolling, and his presents in the forefront of my mind. It was only one bite, it could have been way worse. I didn’t think any one would find out. I thought I could keep a secret all to myself. I did well until my husband came home and asked me why I had chocolate on my cheek. “I thought you were dieting” he said, I was but the temptation was just too much. I ate the rest in 3 bites and it only took me about 15 second. One day I will be able to look at him, and not succumb to the pressure.

    • Channell C. Walker says:

      I sent in my submission early thus morning and it still hasn’t shown up on the site. I tried to resubmit it, but it says that it’s a duplicate comment. Is anyone else having this problem?

      • Channell C. Walker says:

        The Stranger

        Everything was going so well; I was having fun and he seemed to be having a good time. And then I bit him.

        In my defense, he was in the wrong. He was a stranger to me, just some guy my caretakers put me in a pen with for some play time. Nothing unusual. It happens two or three times a day, four or five on weekends. Normally, the strangers pet me and toss toys around and clap when I pounce and shake the toys. I always have a good time with the strangers.

        Today, my caretakers placed me in a pen with a giant of a stranger, bigger than any I have ever seen before. His hands were so big I could curl up and sleep on them. He smelled just like Caretaker Kevin who slips out the back door couple times a day then comes back reeking of something toxic. I didn’t like his scent, but that was okay. Strangers never stayed very long.

        Caretaker Molly put me on the floor of the pen and sniffed around the perimeter getting all scents from other strangers and friends who are back behind the glass. The stranger sat on the bench and watched me before picking up a plush rabbit toy. I remembered this toy. It’s a slippery little devil, always tries to get away. I won’t let get away this time. Today, the rabbit was going down.

        The stranger tossed it across the room. I chased it down, pounced on it, then slid to a stop at the far corner. It was the perfect catch. I chewed, and chewed at the little ears, trying my best to destroy the thing, but then the stranger tried to save the rabbit. He tugged and I tugged back. Then he tickled my tummy and the rabbit slipped away. I had been tricked! Robbed of my victory! There he was, safe in the stranger’s hand. I didn’t know what to do. I had to get him back. I spotted a bit of bare ankle and I just…lunged.

      • Vinita says:

        Hi Channell!

        Your comment found its way into our Spam folder. I’ve just approved it, and it’s showing on the site now.

        Vinita Zutshi, Guest Post Editor

    • Jay says:

      And then I bit him.

      The warmth of his flesh filled my mouth. The hair on his arm tickled the roof of my mouth as I dug my teeth deeper into his flesh.

      He began to scream as his warm tasty blood spilled from his arm and into my mouth. I tingled as it rolled off my lips and down my chin. I didn’t want this feeling to end.

      “Soon we will be together for eternity” I screamed! “Vampires!”

      Unfortunately I wasn’t a vampire and now neither was he.

      After the police arrived and took his statement, I was taken off to jail.

      He was taken to the hospital.

      We never saw each other after that night, but as I stare out of my cell window I think of what could have been.


    • Romly Ahl says:

      I am new in writing especially in fiction-fantasy. I’ve not read all these articles yet. But thanks for sharing all these. I do believe I can get all that I need in there. Thank you a lot.

    • Raven says:

      And then I bit him.

      He looked at me through his choleric eyes, as if I was a venomous snake that had been lurking, waiting for the perfect moment to attack. And in return, I eyed him with intent. I wouldn’t let anyone touch me.

      It’s true that this could have been different. I could’ve said something first or, at least, pushed him away.. anything to avoid biting him. However, thinking had never been one of my strong traits on such occasions. Biting, on the other hand, was second nature.

      I don’t know exactly what made me do it. Maybe it was the sheer pleasure of making him bleed. Or maybe it was the tantalizing taste of his blood in my mouth, running down my throat in sweet gushes of iron red.

      Yes, there was no sensation capable of topping that.

    • Ty says:

      It was getting to be too much. What began as an innocent challenge, a show of male aggression, ended when when he wrapped his arm across my throat and tightened. I tapped his shoulder to let him know that it was over and that he had won. He waited a few more seconds, as if to assert his victory, before releasing his grip. And then I bit him.

      What came next was an act of unforgivable evil. Oliver tore his arm away in shock. He inspected it as if he had been shot. Then he reacted like he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. The fire in his eyes said I had crossed a line and for the last time. Oliver wrapped his arms around my throat and didn’t let go.

    • And then I bit him. I didn’t mean to, but he was barking orders at me like a dog and I guess, with the kind of morning I had been having so far, I just couldn’t take it anymore.

      Frank and I opened this sandwich shop together just six months ago. Things were going well at first, but then I noticed whenever we got a little busy, he would start to panic and start shouting orders at me. I spoke to him about it several times. He apologized and promised he would try to stop. He did for a while. But as Spring came and the shop got really busy, he began shouting orders at me again. It began to affect not only me, but our customers as well.

      When Frank would start bellowing, people would jump uncomfortably and rush out of the shop. I didn’t know what to do. So when he started yelling again, I bit him. It was kind of funny, but it did shut him up.

      That night I went to his house and apologized to his wife. She kind of laughed it off and thanked me for biting him. She had been trying for months to get him to go for a hearing test because she thought he was having trouble and that’s why he was yelling all the time. “Your little biting incident convinced him that he had to do something, so I’m taking him for a hearing test tomorrow.”

      Later the next afternoon, Frank came in with a big grin on his face and a new hearing aid, barely visible in his ear. From that moment on, he never barked an order again.

    • Harry Kingaby says:

      The dark closed in and the colours faded to greys. With the dark came a warm ocean breeze, tangy with salt. The sand squeaked as our feet slid, finding their grip.
      “Do you think she’ll be there?” My brother asked. He had asked the same question, or a variation of it, about ten times.
      “Of course she will, Joey.” She had told him that if he met her behind the surf club she would let him kiss her. Poor Joey couldn’t think of anything else.
      “Should I use closed or open mouth?” For the fifth time.
      I told him to wait and see.
      “Who should make the first move? Should I close my eyes.” Six times.
      “I’ve never kissed a girl before, Dave.” 100 times.
      The breeze seemed to be getting really hot and I would have sworn that our sandy feet sounded like chalk on a board.
      “I hope she turns up.” Joey punched the air. “Maybe I’ll give her a French kiss. What’s a French kiss anyway?”
      “Yeah, Joey. You could do that.”
      Joey laughed. “Or maybe a love bite. Do you know a love bite? What’s a love bite?”
      I looked at him and could only discern his form in the poor light. I was disappointed that he couldn’t see my exasperation. “Well, I’m your brother and I love you, right?”
      He moved his head slowly. This was serious stuff. “Right.”
      Then I took his hand and I bit him. Really hard.

    • And I bit him. I didn’t know what to expect back after my foul approach, but his response shocked me.
      I watched closely as blood welled from the tiny puncture in his lip.
      Suddenly, those lips curled into an awkward, amused smirk as he opened his mouth.
      “For your first kiss, it wasn’t that bad. I’m sure you’ll learn how to be gentle and girl-like one day, my love.”
      After that sentence, he quickly bit me back blissfully, careful not to tear my lip, but rather, to send me in the world of love and lust that he wanted to share with me.

    • Sandra Novelly says:

      You folks are all so talented! I love these prompts!

    • Krystle says:

      And then I bit him. Derryl wouldn’t let go of the situation. I told him he won the argument, he was right, but he continued to rant in his defense. I tried to control my temper but after five minutes I was boiling. His voice was annoying. I couldn’t stand his presence. I did everything to control myself.
      As he bellowed I made myself a cup of tea and ate from the bowl of fruit I made earlier in the day. He paced back and forth while I counted to ten. When I thought he was done I tried to change the subject, but he started up again, impatient, and annoyed I slowly walked over to him and began to massage his shoulders. He pushed my hands from his away and demanded I sit so he can continue to get his winning point across. Instead of sitting as I was told I grabbed my running shoes and began to put them on. Before I was able to walk out of the door he grabbed me and pushed me against the wall. My eyes widened and I lost control.
      He didn’t know how strong I really was because I’ve been hiding my secret for the last couple of years. He thought me being a pescetarian and fruitaholic was the reason I didn’t age, but when my fangs snapped out those thoughts altered.
      I was straddling him and blood was all over the couch when I realized what I’ve done. I opened my wrist and forced him to drink my blood. I thought I killed him, but when he began to have convulsions I was relieved. He had a kid I didn’t know what else to do. I know that it’s against the law to turn someone that’s not your life-mate, but I couldn’t live with the fact that a baby would lose her father.
      You can behead me. I feel as if I’ve been living for too long anyway. Before you make your decision can I just tell my mother and father that I’m sorry for even becoming a vampire?

    • Louisa says:

      And then I bit him. Really. Truly. I couldn’t think of what else to do.

      It hurt. It hurt my teeth to squeeze then puncture his tough skin. It hurt because until this very moment, everything we’d done had been gentle and loving. I loved him, and by all indications, he loved me. I had wanted him to love me; really, truly. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

      “Ow!” he cried. Tears sprang to his gentle blue grey eyes. Though it was his forearm I’d bitten, it was clear that I’d punctured his heart.
      “What the….why?” he whispered, trying not to sob in surprise, in shock.

      Pulling away from him, from his strong arms, from his gentle soul, from his long thick beautiful hair, I stood up.

      It seemed you could hear it, but probably not. My heart (and probably his) shattered into thousands and thousands of painful pieces.
      I attempted to shrug, but I couldn’t.

      And then I ran from him. Really. Truly. In my world, my life, gentle perfect love such as ours would never last, could never last. So I bit him, to end it and ensure we both had pain and scars for life.

    • Bob W. says:

      My friend was late and I was killing time at the bar. I guess I noticed his accent first. I was always a sucker for a British, French, Spanish–you name it–European accent. This guy’s was very sophisticated and sexy.

      After a few drinks, my friend never did show up, so he asked if I’d like a night cap at his villa overlooking Lakeshore Drive. I was getting very tipsy and there was that accent. I should also mention that he was very tall, dark and drop-dead handsome. Off to the villa we went…

      He made us his special drink that he called an import from his native country. It was warm, red, and intoxicating. I noticed the first sip had a slight bite, but it was smooth sailing after that.

      Finally, he made his move. The kiss was firm and he moved his mouth towards my ear. His breath was hot, and then I bit him.

      • Matt Kruze says:

        And then I bit him.

        Don’t worry – he was already dead.

        Just like the other 246, crushed up against each other or twisted around broken spears of metal.

        I wasn’t usually first on the scene; normally the paramedics beat me. Still, if you live in the harbour as I do, metaphorically speaking, sooner or later your ship will come in; I could see the runway lights from my bedroom window.

        My phone beeped and I pulled my face away, wiping a hand across my lips. I took a breath to compose myself, inhaling deeply the scents of burning fabric, fuel and flesh wafting to me from the middle section.

        ‘I’m already here,’ I said, adopting the accomplished tone of my day job.

        ‘I figured you mi -‘

        I lost connection. Not unusual here in the forest, now bearing an ugly tract of blond wood and extirpated trees, headed by a crumpled tube of white metal that would glint in the sun when viewed from above on the news later.

        It rang again and I scrambled over the buckled seating for a better signal. ‘Sorry, better off with smoke signals out here in the sticks.’ I grimaced at the unintended imagery. ‘I got here as soon as I heard the crash. The ambulances are coming but…’

        ‘Are you okay? Can you get back to the office? You need any equipment?’ I could hear him hopping around, crashing into his desk and offering a muted curse.

        ‘Yeah the usual paraphernalia. You can bring it out to me if you like. Sounds like you’ve already got one shoe on.’ I was always dismissive of his seniority. I think he liked it, secretly.

        Another crash and the scrape of metal on wood as he scooped up his keys. ‘Uh huh. Anything else ma’am?’

        ‘How about a nice fat bonus for being your most efficient worker?’

        ‘I’ll be with you in half an hour. Don’t go anywhere.’

        ‘Don’t forget my bonus.’

        ‘You’re a bloodsucker,’ he said, severing the call.

        And by day I’m a damn fine air crash investigator, I thought, pouting to myself.

        • Krystle says:

          This is an interesting short. I liked the way you moved the character from the bite to hoping for a bonus. Also the development of the character having an actual occupation to be at such scene was clever. Keep up the good work.

    • And then I bit him.

      I ran into the forest, the hunter’s hand dripping blood. My panther paws hit the ground in a steady rhythm before shooting straight back up again. I was flying through the forest when . . .

      Bam! I hit something large and solid. The figure in front of me toppled over and I fell on top of him. It was Jupiter, my best friend in the whole world. He couldn’t see me like this. Not when he didn’t know my secret.

      I gave a fake snarl and started forward. Jupiter scooted back, his face paler than the full moon itself, which shone down on him. He stopped, furrowed his brow and stood up.


      I froze and tried to snarl again, but this time it came out as a whimper. Jupiter rushed forward and hugged me.

      “Why didn’t you tell me?”

      I cocked my head at him, looking exasperated.

      “Oh, right. You can’t talk.”

      I nodded.

      “Well were you planning on telling me?”

      I sat down.

      “I’ll take that as an ‘I don’t know.’ I wish you had told me. I wouldn’t have cared. Amber’s a panther-shifter. She told me today, but had to run to this forest to transform without anyone seeing.”

      A gun went off a few yards behind me. I flinched and motioned with my head for Jupiter to run. Jupiter shook his head.

      “I’m staying with you.”

      Didn’t Jupiter know that he was in more danger as I was? He was going to get in trouble for being associated with people like us. We were both sentenced to death, but I could fight off the hunters with my panther claws and teeth.

      I tried to say, “Run!” but it came out as a roar. Jupiter jumped, but stayed put.

      The hunter was upon us now. Tranquilizer darts in his pocket, a loaded, lethal gun pointed directly at Jupiter.


      I leapt into the air in front of Jupiter. Jupiter screamed something, but I couldn’t hear it over the shot of the gun. It hit my chest and I knew no more.

    • And then I bit him.

      My hands felt numb with pain and fatigue.
      I knelt beside her. And I went through the pain. I felt like his bones were broken in my jaw and my spine arched in pleasure.

      I turned away from him for a moment, and saw the full moon, I opened my muzzle and naturally a howl out of it.

    • As I approached the Wizard Grump’s cottage a strange sensation stole over me. My skin tingled as though I was passing through s wall of static electricity. My teeth hurt deep in their roots. My ears filled with cotton until all I could hear was the pounding of my heart like a deep bass drum.
      The glossy red door of the cottage swung open as I stepped cautiously onto the front step. Beneath my feet the wooden porch floorboards creaked slightly. Before I knew what was happening I became weightless, floating in the still summer air before the open doorway.
      Wizard Grump appeared in his soiled beige robe. His tangled gray beard fluttering in the breeze which suddenly blew across the porch. I felt my body somehow buffeted by this breeze until I was pushed against the Wizard’s grimy wrinkled cheek. My anger which had propelled me toward this moment resurfaced and the only thought occurring in my brain was retribution for the merciless death this Wizard had caused my sister.
      And then I bit him.
      My mouth did not open. My teeth did not sink into his flaccid tough skin. Yet I tasted his coppery blood on my proboscis. But it wasn’t until his decrepit oversized hand approached his cheek I realized this evil bastard had turned me into a mosquito. My final thought was I hoped I left a huge itchy welt that would last for weeks.

    • And then I bit him.

      He yelped and pressed a hand to his new bruise. “What was that for?”

      I shrugged. “I was losing the argument, so I reverted to kindergarten tactics.”

      “You must have been a cute girl.” He held up the Visa bill that had ignited the debate. “So you going to explain this? Or shall I throw some salt and a little ketchup on the other arm?”

      “No mustard?” I pulled away from his patented keep-the-bitch-on-the-subject laser stare. “Okay, fine.” I reached into my backpack and pulled out my latest aquisition. I tried to lay it gently on the counter, but the thud it made still penetrated the relative peace in our little kitchen.

      He stared at it, his mouth neither open nor closed. At least I’d found a way to leave him speechless. Finally, something like “Whatthehellisthis?” dribbled from his throat.

      “A Sig Sauer forty cal auto.” I hoped I sounded like I knew what I was talking about. Maybe I should have left off the “Sauer.” Yeah, “Sig forty” would have sounded way cool–

      “Thank you Jack Bauer.”

      Bauer with a Sauer…I stifled a laugh. “It’s just a gun. No big deal.”

      “No big deal.” He ran his fingers through his hair, though he cropped it to putting-green length, so I never understood why he bothered. “So your idea of an impulse buy is a high-power firearm.”

      “It wasn’t an impulse. I had to wait five days.”

      “So much for background checks.” He reached down and prodded the Sig–yeah, that did sound better–with a finger. “Shoulda asked me, I could’ve told them you were nuts.”

      “Not fair. I have that under control.”

      He eyed the dental evidence on his arm. “I beg to differ.”

      One. Lousy. Time. You’d think a girl could get a mulligan for one lapse in judgement. “That was a long time ago.”

      “So why the new toy.”

      “I was scared.”

      “Scared…of what?”

      “I think he’s back.”

      Greg stared at me. Then turned and looked toward the raised flower garden in the back yard. The one he built in record time. For me. To keep me here. “But…”

      “He’s not dead.” My voice shook. “He told me so.”

    • Sandra Novelly says:

      And then I bit him.

      Nothing had altered his deadly grip on my hand and arm. Strong muscles had begun their work and I realized I would soon end up in the belly of the beast if I did not arrive at a solution.

      Hunting these monsters was dangerous business and the threat had become reality on this hot, humid day. The number of creatures formed an overwhelming dilemma and I was only a small part of a panicked solution.

      As I sank my teeth into his flesh he shuddered but only squeezed tighter. However, I did not give up for my partner had finally arrived with a cold bottle of juice and a large tongue depressor. Instruction given, she pried and poured until–with much reluctance but fearing strangulation more than he wanted me–the huge reptile finally let go

      She inserted the snake into a cage and fastened the top. Then she turned to care for my arm. “I don’t feel any teeth,” she reassured. I sighed in relief as she administered first aid.

      Such is a day in the life of a python hunter in Florida.

    • Sandi says:

      And then I bit him. It was the most natural and necessary thing to do. Warm teeth sunk into the frigid skin. Not surprising. He was, after all, a cruel, cold and calculating human deserving of the chomp. She had endured enough.

      “You’re the best,” she said to me despite the bruised lip, eye swollen shut. The good eye, blue as a summer sky, looked at me with a love that broke my canine heart. Blonde tendrils fell over my face as she hugged my ragged body. This was the last time, I thought. We’ll take it no longer. One more slap and you’re dead

      And by doggie treat, he did exactly that. My mind snapped. She was, after all, my companion who loved me beyond words. I could not sit on this wretched bed another minute and watch him wail a helpless pack member.

      Blood was drawn. Hell broke lose. The monster became a pulp of torn flesh. I don’t regret it. He’s gone. She’s safe, holding me close, wiping the blood from my fur. “Good boy,” her warm voice says as we walk into the woods, sirens blaring in the distance. “They won’t find us.”

    • And then I bit him. I didn’t mean to do it. It was more a nibble than a bite. I just kind of grazed him with me two front teeth. No underbite. No lip.

      Afterall, I was down on my knees teaching. he had to learn. But he wasn’t getting it. So I decided to model the behavior and show him.

      How else was my new brown and white baby rabbit with pink ears and a twitchy pink nose ever going to learn how to address a carrot fresh from my garden. I had washed it and scraped it and everything.

      “Oh, Peter, we have some learning to do, don’t we?” I swear he smiled at me.

    • And then I bit him. And then I laughed as he doubled over in pain. Serves him right for pushing himself on me!
      I told him I was not in the mood. I told him that I was not role-playing. I warned him. He knew, and yet he chose to keep pushing himself on me. Why can’t men ever take a hint?

      He’s just lucky that I didn’t bite harder, and really sink my teeth into him.

      I chuckle every time I tell this story. Honestly, you’d think after the first time, when I drew blood from him because I was so angry, that he wouldn’t have the balls to try it again. Well, he almost didn’t… But seriously, what goes through that brain of his? His fetish for choking me was getting out of control. I swear, Matt can be completely clueless sometimes.

      David, too.

      Aah. David. Now he was something else. Always sensual, never rough, even when I wanted him to be. Now there’s a guy who never caused me pain. Until we broke up, that is. Then my heart broke into pieces, my life shattered. I still can’t believe that he—

    • River says:

      (I did this in 10 mins–only proofread it twice–Sorry)

      And then I bit him.

      Now that I look back, I’m not sure if I was in my right mind. I was a lonely girl, at an old coffee shop, (the one that always seems to have a neon light out) when a handsome man sat beside me–and as a greeting I bite him?

      I really did have problems.

      I wonder what he told his friends that day…. Was I the most memorable girl to him? Will he one day, when he’s old and has children or even grandchildren of his own, tell them of the time he met the biting girl?

      Of the time he met his wife.

    • JD Scruggs says:

      And then I bit him. Her eyes were wide, as wide as I have ever seen, her stare frozen to my face. I waited. And waited. What seemed an eternity, an uncomfortable eternity. But still she did not respond. Not a blink, or a nod or any other expression except for that wide eyed stare.
      Was she was shocked at my impulsive action? Perhaps she was stunned in disbelief. All I did was what everyone told me to do. They said it was a great way to meet new people. They told me it would show my sensitive side. Something I sorely lacked. So why would she be staring at me in such a curious way?
      Were they all wrong? Should I have not stepped out of my comfortable isolation? It is hard enough to live in a strange place. Leaving your family behind, living alone, it seemed like the right thing to do. But here was this beautiful young woman looking at me like I was a monster. I frantically searched the depths of my mind for an answer. Lost in her gaze, I could feel the panic sweeping over me. I knew it was too good to be true; I had done something wrong, again. I was to be alone the rest of my life. But finally a blink, her mouth hung open. The words came out; they echoed slowly, almost like some slo-motion scene from a movie, she finally spoke. “Why would you bite him?”
      It made no sense to me, it sounded strange. I reached into my pocket. Flipping through the pages, I thought perhaps it came out wrong. If she would wait just another moment, maybe I could find the answer. “I’m sorry.” I said, “I BOUGHT him, that’s it, I bought him.” Instantly her face relaxed, “Oh, you scared me for a moment”, she said. She bent down, “What a cute puppy, how sweet”. “Would you like to get some coffee?” I asked. “Sure” she replied smiling. It would be a good day after all. Perhaps I need a language lesson.

    • Terry says:

      ‘And then I bit him’

      ‘You did what?’

      ‘I bit him. Otherwise…’

      ‘You have to be kidding me. You bit the dragon?’

      ‘Well, yes. I didn’t know what else to do. And technically…’

      ‘I don’t believe it. You’re making this up.’

      ‘Why would I do that? He was about to spit fire. It’s your fiancée we’re talking about here. She would have been toast.’

      ‘Err. Right. I guess I owe you.’

      ‘Why would you? That was my job, wasn’t it? Keeping you folks safe from the dragon. Why else throw a helpless girl at his feet?’

      ‘Don’t… Obviously you’re not helpless. I guess we all need to apologize.’

      ‘Oh stuff it. I’d much rather you all started to think and stop doing what’s in those stupid books.’

      ‘But the books…’

      ‘Yeah, yeah, guidance, wisdom, yadda, yadda. Where is the wisdom in sacrificing a maiden to a dragon, I’m asking you? What’s supposed to be the point?’

      ‘But it’s always been done.’

      ‘Not in our lifetime, it hasn’t. And in that of our parents and our grandparents.’

      ‘There were no dragons then.’

      ‘Right. And why was that? Because the Magi protected you.’

      ‘They enslaved us. It was our greatest triumph to get rid of them. But now the dragons are back.’

      ‘Well, technically…’

      ‘What I still don’t understand is how a bite could affect it. Don’t they have scales?’

      ‘For someone who almost lost his beloved to a dragon your priorities seem odd…’
      ‘My task is to investigate.’

      ‘Alwas on duty. My, isn’t that honourable of you.’

      ‘So what happend, exactly?’

      ‘He held me down with one leg when Chloe challenged him. She’s really brave, that one. You don’t deserve her.’

      ‘If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let her…’

      ‘And you really think she’d have obeyed you? You’re such a fool…’

      ‘Whatever. What happened with the dragon?’

      ‘There’s that soft spot between his toes, that’s where I bit him. He squealed. Then he changed.’

      ‘Changed? Into what?’

      ‘Into a boy. That’s what I wanted to tell you all along. Technically, he isn’t a dragon. He’s human. A shapeshifter. He’s a Mage

    • “And then… I bit him.” She dipped her head and covered her face with her hands to hide the rising color in her cheeks.

      Mina gently pulled Susan’s hands from her face. The poor pup had turned scarlet to her ears. “Honey, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He probably thought it was sexy.”

      Susan shook her head violently. “I bit him. Not a nibble or nip. It was a solid bite like a crazed flesh eating zombie bite.”

      It was becoming more difficult for Mina not to at least grin at her friend’s plight. “It really couldn’t have been that bad.”

      “This morning he still had teeth marks and it was bruising. Oh Mina, I don’t know what happened. Once minute we were passionate and tearing each other’s clothes off then… chomp. You’re my guide; you’re supposed to have all the answers.”

      Susan flopped back on the sofa sure, he would never speak to her again. “He just smelled so good, not good as in nice cologne. Good as in a juicy burger with the works good.”

      She sat bolt upright, eyes wide and heart suddenly racing. “He won’t be infected will he?”

      Mina remembered her own transition, it was hard but she was older and had experience in the world. Susan is a young girl entering the netherworld, she was still ruled by impulse. Mina took the girl’s soft hand in hers patting the back of it gently. “No, he won’t be, even if you broke the skin.”

      With a gentle smile she wiped a tear from her pup’s cheek. “We’ll be laughing about this next week. You’ll see. After your first full moon all those urges to eat your boyfriend will fade.”

      Susan’s expression grew horrified. “What if it doesn’t?”

      Mina grinned. “You wouldn’t be the first bitch to eat her mate. Now go freshen your make-up we have shopping to do.”

    • Love the idea–may hav a chance to “steal” it later if I find more time!

    • AJVogler says:

      And then, I bit him.

      Maybe the boy didn’t deserve my ire, but I wanted what he had.

      I get what I want.

      At once, the boy’s face exploded into a fount of snot and tears. His wails shredded the quiet morning. The other prisoners turned to stare and I knew that our jailers would soon be upon me. I collected my spoils from the hands of my victim and ambled across the yard. I met the eyes of the other prisoners as I crossed. Their faces lit with a rainbow of emotions. Fear. Anger. Envy. Admiration.

      My goal stood just a few yards ahead of me. I needed to get that sandpit before the guards realized what had happened. Maybe, if I could get far enough from the boy, no one would realize what happened. With each unsteady step, my anticipation grew. That small pile of sand in the corner of the yard looked like heaven to me. I’d wanted this for as long as I could remember. Visions of my victorious arrival consumed my every thought. Which, in retrospect, is why I didn’t notice the guard until she was looming over me.

      “Oliver,” she said. The calmness of her voice belied her fury. “Carter says you bit him and took his things. Is that true?”

      I stood in the giantess’s shadow. I felt the pulling grip of fear take me, and frustrated tears began to burn in my eyes.

      “I wanted it.”

      “Carter had it first. When you bit him, it hurt.”

      Her huge hands gripped my waist and she lifted me to her hip.

      “Let’s go give Carter back his truck, then you can spend few minutes in the timeout chair thinking about how to play nicely with your friends.”

      • I like how the child’s perspective is so dramatic! Cute story.

        • AJ Vogler says:

          Thank you so much!

    • Wow this is such a cool idea! I’ll have to think about it to come up with one on my own…

    • Janni says:

      And then I bit him.

      What else was I supposed to do when he put his hand over my mouth? It’s not like I could sink my nails into his arms and get away that way. He also wasn’t far enough away for me to use elbows, knees, or a series of sharp kicks.

      Pity, too. My boots could have done some damage.

      “Ow! What’d you do that for?” he yelped in pain and — could it be? — complete shock.

      “You said not to hold back. This is me, not holding back.” I said, spitting off to the side. “What’d you just eat, anyway? Something in the Cheeto family? There’s nasty orange dust all over your hands. Bleh.”

      “Sorry, next time I’ll wash my hands before I pretend to kidnap you,” he pouted. “Did you have to bite so hard? You know this wasn’t real, right?”

      “Of course. But you said not to hold back.” I crossed my arms and glared back.

      “True. I have to be ready for anything.” My brother stuck his hand under the faucet and sighed loudly as the cold water hit.

      “Who says I’ll do that next time?” I smirked. “That’s why you’re practicing with me, and not your simulator. I think like a person. Your program may be brilliant, but it still doesn’t think.”

      “It calculates! It gleans important information from its surroundings, runs probabilities on possible outcomes, and chooses a logical course of action!” he protested.

      “Yes, but it’s not random. It will always choose the action or counteraction that it thinks is most probable — right?” I put my hands on my hips and looked smug.

      “Only if I tell it to.” He sounded slightly deflated.

      “You need to teach it to randomize. People don’t only choose their actions based on probabilities. If we did, we’d be much easier to figure out.” I let my voice soften, suddenly feeling defensive of my brother’s feelings. He was smart, sure, but he wasn’t exactly great at people.

      “You’re right, sis. Go again?”

      “Only if you wash your hands.”

    • Shirley says:

      And then I bit him.

      His eye’s widened in surprise, but he let go.

      “You bit me!” he hissed.

      I looked at the indention on his hand and nodded. “At what point did you think I wouldn’t”

      Steven did the only thing he could do then – he laughed.

      “Okay…” he paused and suddenly pinned me against the wall. “I deserved that, but you…”

      My heart began to pound, my palms moistened. I opened my mouth but for the first time in my life I couldn’t speak. His hard body pressed against mine made everything blurr.

      His strong hand reached beneath my hair as he pulled my lips to his, ” You deserve this.”

      He kissed me.

    • Wendy Anctil says:

      An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth. Those were words I was raised to live by.
      The corpse of my father lay before me. He had grabbed me from behind and sunk his teeth into my neck. I wriggled free, anger rising in me. And then I bit him. It was only fair. The salty tang of blood hit my tongue and I could no longer contain myself. It was like a worm wriggling through my brain as the frenzy took over, and with teeth and nails I tore at him until sprays of blood pumped furiously out of his neck. His body became slack and he sank to the floor, eyes rolling up in his head as he gurgled his last few breaths and then lay still. A calm settled over me. The deed was done, and I was the victor. I would now be pack leader. The others sniffed my dead father’s body and then came over to me, tongues licking my lips and face. I shook my wet muzzle and gazed up into the heavens as a howl escaped my throat, long and singularly painful, until it became a chorus of voices ringing in my sovereignty of the wolves.

      • Channell C. Walker says:

        I really liked this one. I enjoyed the fact that you didn’t say this fight was between two wolves at the beginning. I was drawn in by the idea of two people fighting like that then the switch in my head made this bit really cool.

    • Michael Hall says:

      I was sick and tired of the heat and humidity and all in all he was being a pest. I figured I had nothing to lose so I leaned in and then I bit him. There was blood everywhere and I thought I actually heard a pop. The girl I was with looked on on horror and gasped so loud I thought her head was going g to implode.

      After the deed was done I figured I would feel remorseful but I didn’t. I knew if they had half a brain they would come after me In numbers so vast to even imagine. I knew they wouldn’t, I knew they couldn’t. I hoped all of his friends were watching and learned a valuable lesson when dealing with me. I looked across the table and right into her beautiful deep blue eyes, shrugged my shoulders and smiled. Disgusted she threw her napkin down on the table and said.

      “That was disgusting, I am outta here. ”

      She stood up and walked away, I wiped my mouth and looked at the deep crimson stain and said.

      “What’s the big deal it’s only a mosquito! “

    • And then I bit him. It was instinctual. He released his grasp in pain, cursing at the red bite marks on his hand.

      I knew I had no time, so I ran.

      “I’ll get you, you rotten kid! I’ll get you!” he called.

      I ran and ran down the dark alley until I made it to my house. Panting, I threw open the door.

      “Momma! Momma!”

      She came running from the kitchen, with a pot of casserole in her oven mitted hands.

      “Tracy, you look terrified. What happened?”

      Tears started spilling out of my eyes. I tried to speak, but sobs came out instead.

      “Oh, honey.” Momma said placing the casserole on the coffee table and beckoning me to sit on the sofa.

      Her soft hands wiped my tears and ran over the bruises on my face and arms.

      “You don’t have to speak now,” she said.

      The tears kept flowing. I wanted to tell her, but my whole body was riddled by my weeping. I thought I was going to pass out.

      Then I was afraid. Would she be upset that I had wondered dow the alley that she’d always warned me about? Would she ever let me out of the house again once she found out what happened? Would he find me and try to take me again?

    • Cayla says:

      Can we use these prompts in our novels?

      • Sure, Cayla! Feel free to use them.

        (Just send us a royalty check when you land the bestseller)
        Just kidding.

        We’re happy if our Scene Stealers help you

    • And then I bit him…

      My master loves me. He provides for me. I always receive food, shelter, love, and even the occasional new toy. We play together and laugh together; I love how he looks like such an idiot when he starts to growl in my face.

      But today we had a problem. You see, I like to eat my vomit. I can’t control this urge, it’s in my nature. The Bible even says so in Proverbs 26:11: “As a dog goes back to his vomit, so a fool repeats his stupidity.” I don’t think it’s fair I’m being called stupid and senseless, but that’s beside the point.

      Today he came outside; he told me to stop; I didn’t listen. My master thought he could swat me free of charge. Afterwards he knelt down to get close and tell me that he loves me. He tried explaining this is what’s best for me.

      And then I bit him…

      • River says:

        Very clever! I love the idea that a dog “bit him”.

      • Minna says:

        I like that the story is told from the point of view of a dog. hahaha 🙂

    • I love scene stealers! 😀 Thanks for making another one!

    • Mike says:

      And then I bit him.

      I didn’t want to.

      He squirmed. He crunched.

      The bitterness turned my stomach. I thought I would lose it.

      Then I reached for another.

      I will get out of this stinking jungle, I will.

      I will feel sun on my back. I will sleep in my own bed.

      Wait. What do I hear? Nothing. In the jungle, I hear nothing.

      I freeze. I scan the brush before slowly moving my head.

      There it is. Oh! No! Eyes in the tree!

    • sefccw says:

      And then I bit him.

      The back story.

      Jason has a history of not following instructions, and having a bad attitude. However, I take things rather literally, and normally do not have an attitude problem.

      I advised Jason of a new policy. He started complaining, so I told him that he needs to follow the new policy, to which he said “Bite me!.

      • Sandra Novelly says:

        Cute short story!

        • sefccw says:

          Thank you Sandra.

          It just jumped right out at me when I saw the prompt.

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