Prompt

maestrowork

Write a truly original story (no more than 1000 words), any genre, from the following prompt:


The creature was hungry.
 

mammamaia

The creature was hungry. I was handy. He's no longer hungry, and I'm typing this with my toes.

the end
 

cluelessspicycinnamon

lol, maia, that's great. Hmmm. Maybe I'll try to come up with something, but nothing will be as clever as that.
 

mammamaia

Re: haha

gosh, kids, i didn't mean to run you all off!:gone ... would it help if i delete my li'l gem and let you all have a shot at this?
 

MacAl Stone

Re: haha

don't you be deleting nuthin', Maia :grin The rest of us just haven't gotten around to it. I'm catching up slowly but certainly.

BWhahhahahaaaa....:jump
 

Brother Kevin

The creature was hungry. Desperately high speeds over an extended period of time, coupled with radical direction changes had exhausted it.
Tapping into the reserves had given it a little leeway, but the end was near.
A light ahead! A whiff of something on the breeze; something that would allow the creature to run on and on through the night.

WHAT? $2.25 a Gallon? Are you NUTS?
 

bfdc

The creature was hungry. But so was I. We circled each other in the field, claws versus clubs, hunger versus survival. All day long we eyed each other, looking for a weakness, looking for a chance to strike, to kill, to eat.

Darkness engulfed us. The stars lit our pulsating path, as we drew closer, then apart, narrowing and widening our opposing orbits. Sleep-deprivation added its insult to the injury of our hunger. I stumbled and nearly fell, and the creature took two quick steps and was upon me, knocking me to the ground.

I cried out, the sound cut off prematurely by the strength of the creature's embrace. My hunger was gone.

Bob/bfdc
 

cluelessspicycinnamon

The creature was hungry. I made him a sandwich. He was still hungry. I made him macaroni and cheese. He was still hungry. I gave him an ice cream cone. He is no longer hungry, and is taking a nap.
 

mammamaia

The creature was hungry. Hey, if you'd traveled 57,000 light years on an empty stomach, wouldn't you be?

or...

The creature was hungry. We were tasty. I am the last one leffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff.......................................
 

Yeshanu

The creature was hungry. I made him a sandwich. He was still hungry. I made him macaroni and cheese. He was still hungry. I gave him an ice cream cone. He is no longer hungry, and is taking a nap.

Hmm... Your ending's just a little too short there, but then again, I have teenaged boys around the house. So, here's the true version...

The creature was hungry. He said, "There's nothing to eat, Mom."

I made him a sandwich (bacon, lettuce, tomato, cheese, egg, three slices of bread).

He was still hungry. He said, "There's nothing to eat, Mom."

I made him macaroni and cheese (a whole box).

He was still hungry. He said, "There's nothing to eat, Mom."

I gave him an ice cream cone (triple scoop).

He was still hungry.

I said, "There's nothing to eat."

So he went to the pizza store and ordered an extra-large with everything (hold the anchovies.)

He came home and turned on the TV.

Five minutes later, the creature was hungry... :smack
 

mammamaia

cute, yesh!

it's clear to me that clueless' critter was a husband and yours is a teenaged son... neither of whose hunger can be satisfied by even the best, most caring and hard-working wife or mother, right?
 

souljoy75

The creature was hungry.

He ate.

He burped.

He slept.

The creature was hungry.
 

cluelessspicycinnamon

haha I didn't realize I was writing about a husband. Can't say I've ever had one.....not even in first grade when everyone gets married and divorced. I didn't get over the whole guys have cooties thing until like fifth grade, and I think they still don't realize I'm over that.
 

bolshywoman

The creature was hungry. It crept towards me, eyes glinting orange in the half-light, a thin tendril of saliva dangling from its bared teeth.

It pounced, and found its doggy treats in my coat pocket.
 

veingloree

I apologise for this in advance :shrug : it doesn't really scan.

----------------

The creature was hungry.
I fed it with thoughts
but it complained that they lacked substance
and sulked under the bed.

"I'm *totally* starving!" the poor creature said.

The creature was hungry.
I fed it with words
"That's a little better," it ungraciously said,
"But I am still very thin..."

"You should put them on paper," it said with a grin.

The creature was hungry.
I wrote it a book
but it said, "Just one copy?"
And sighed as it burped.

Complaints still emerged from the den where it lurked.

The creature was hungry.
I published its book.
"I'm tired of that one," the creatured complained.
"my diet is too bland, these are all the same!"

I muttered as I typed, something profane.

Webpages and sidebars, poems and books,
yet the creature's still giving me baleful looks.
The best writers have them, if not in these terms --
ravenous creatures with a bad case of worms...
 

Vipersniper

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The creature was hungry.

:Huh: The creature was hungry and he was a vampire that fed upon the blood of authors. But he was no ordinary vampire in that he was a publisher and he had a habit of prowling for new authors. He loved sharpening his teeth on the authors that failed to heed the warnings. But this vampire now as Count PublicAmericus hungered for virgin blood. You see if he ate the words and the flesh of the authors who were published with another competent publisher that meant that he got a very upset stomach.
So when he sent out a lesser vampire one that he controlled by feeding on them while giving them the older published authors that had come to his castle at Frederickus. This brick and mortar castle was obscure and well hidden in the lands of bull excement. Now he had claimed more than eleven thousand each year give or take a few authors that escaped from this hungry vampire creature of a publisher. So he sent out a decree to his lesser known bats of a inkstained feather that he need more virgins to conquer.
He also decreed that if they found them and fooled them and lured them into false security he would share their blood with them.
Therefore on a dark night which was only light by the luminescent glow of the moon these equally hungry creatures lifted their wings and flew.
There appeared on the horizon a single man armed with a silver pen that was filled with silver ink. Aha what is that he is wearing but a medallion. Now the hungry creature suddenly was aware of a presence and while he could see in the dark, he did not see the coach with the others of this group gaining on his castle from the rear. He was concentrating on the banner of the leader who also had a silver tipped stake and lo and behold what should appear on that shield but the distinct letters written in gold.
 

Eveningsdawn

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The creature was hungry, and he still is. Part of me knows he always will be, for his hunger is one that can't be sated by any normal means. I live all my days and nights with a starving beast, but nothing I offer him seems to be what he needs. He is one of a pair, and his mate is as hungry as he is, as gaunt and mad-eyed.
They are very like wolves, but larger, and nothing like the generally peaceable, pack-oriented canine we know. These are the wolves of fairy tales and myth. These are the wolves of the Dreaming.
They are my Huginn and Muninn - my own personal Thought and Memory. The pair stalks my subconscious world, harrying and snapping, permitting no one's touch but mine, and that grudgingly. Unlike Odin's ravens, they never leave my presence, choosing instead to guard my secrets with bared fangs and claws.
They are always hungry, but I have never known for what.
 

SeanDSchaffer

The creature was hungry. In fact, he was famished. He needed something in his stomach, and he needed it now.

He searched the usual places, but found nothing. No food of any kind came up within his sight. Oh, but for a measly morsel of meat! If only there were something to eat. Something to satisfy. Something to take his mind off his stomach.

After a long search, he finally found it. Food! A little piece of bread on the ground, which he snapped up fast into his mouth and chewed happily upon. The bread's moldy texture didn't bother him in the least. The other creatures that crawled upon it he gave not the time of day. He needed food, and it didn't matter how bad the food had become.

It satisfied him, although it would eventually make him sick. But at least his stomach had been satisfied. The creature was hungry, and to the hungry soul all bitter things are sweet.

For the moment, the creature was no longer hungry.

For the moment...
 

DragonHeart

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The creature was hungry, he wanted a snack,
But searching and seeking, he became sad
For he had forgotten to put lunch in his pack;
The creature was hungry, and now he is mad.

~DragonHeart~
 

Devon Aster

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The creature was hungry. Its rancid breath proceded it, turning to mist in the cold night air. Its yellow eyes glowed in the darkness. Listless vines, hangning from the trees, clung to its matted fur as it passed silently. It sniffed once, twice, catching the scent of prey. Its black lips curled revealing white fangs. Crouching low, it slunk along the ground. Its claws churned the debris of the forest floor.

There, in the shadows, a rapid heartbeat. Breaths came fast and shallow. The whites of human eyes shone in the moonlight penetrating the canopy. The creature stilled and stared. It crouched even lower on its haunches, the time stretching beyond constraint.

And then, a leap! A flurry of tooth and blade. Seconds passed and neither moved. There was a grunt, a sigh, and a movement. Out of the shadows stepped the victor.