r/writingprompts

So I was browsing Reddit today when I came across an interesting little subreddit. It’s called r/writingprompts, and, as it’s namesake would suggest, it is filled with interesting little prompts for creative writing. I figured, hey, I constantly steal everyone else’s intellectual property and say that it’s mine, so lets pull some of those prompts and put them up here!

Prompt #1: You’re a homicide detective and you’ve just received the strangest case you’ve ever had. The killer writes a click bait title in blood at each crime scene.

I lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and walked inside. Passing under the yellow tape, my nostrils were assaulted with the rotten stench of death. I was familiar with it. Hell, I practically grew up around it back in the 70’s, when I lived in the suburbs with ma. But this, this was fresh. This would make even the most prolific of serial killer’s eyes water. But hey, I only had a week until retirement, and I was gonna be damned if I let something as routine as a murder stop me there. Walking down the dank hallway, a police officer approached me.

“Detective Taylor.” The young officer said respectfully. “This might just be one of the strangest cases we’ve ever had to deal with.”

I looked at the boy, chuckled, and puffed on my cigarette.

“And what’s so strange about it? Killer leave a cryptic message or something?”

The rookie paused, then looked at me with a worried expression.

“Well sir, I think you might just have to see for yourself.”

The officer led me down two doors, and with every step the stench grew stronger. When we neared the crime scene, the rookie began to cough and sputter.

“You can leave now, boy. I can take care of this on my own. S’what they pay me for, you know.”

He looked at me, thanked me, and fled back to fresh air. And with what I was about to see, I definitely should have envied him. Cigarette secure in the crook of my mouth, I turned the doorknob and took in the horrific scene before me. In the middle of the room, surrounded by several empty spools of surgical thread, lay the naked victim on its side, already turning blue even though the police were called only an hour ago. The floor and walls were splattered with blood, and, upon further inspection, the corpse was missing an arm.

“No, it isn’t missing an arm.” I thought. “It’s just in the wrong spot.”

I walked towards the corpse, pulled latex gloves over my hands, and turned it over onto its back. The lifeless face that looked up at me was male, as evidenced by the beard. Poor bastard. His right arm was brutally severed just below the elbow, with the jagged, shattered bone poking out haphazardly. Looking down, the arm was attached by the surgical thread to the pelvic area, most likely where his genitals used to be. Unlike his arm, the stitching was fine, precise. The killer obviously put time into this…masterpiece?

“But what does it mean?” I thought. Surely there must be something more. Reaching into my coat pocket, I removed a pocket flashlight and scanned the dark corners of the room. The blood reached even farther than I had thought, and seemed to cover the walls. Except, parts of the walls seemed to be exempt from the blood spatter, making patterns. I shined the light across it again. Then I saw it, what the officer was talking about. It was a message. And it was definitely cryptic.

It read “GROW SIX INCHES IN AN HOUR WITH THIS ONE SIMPLE TRICK!”

My cigarette had gone out, so I reached into my coat and lit a new one.

“Damn.” I said out loud. “And I was so close to retiring too.”