1. JJ_Maxx

    JJ_Maxx Banned

    Oct 8, 2012
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    A Picture Is Worth 1000 Words Challenge! (#1)

    Discussion in 'Writing Prompts' started by JJ_Maxx, Feb 2, 2013.

    Challenge: Write a short piece of fiction based around this picture:


    • 1000 word maximum.
    • There are no winners. This is a creative writing exercise meant to keep your skills sharp.
    • Do not post reviews of other members writing. You may give them reputation or PM them if you wish to comment.
    • Entries here may be re-posted in The Workshop if you have fulfilled all the requirements.
    • Have fun, and let your creative juices flow!
  2. JJ_Maxx

    JJ_Maxx Banned

    Oct 8, 2012
    Likes Received:
    The old man was right. We followed the path up the mountain and the old railroad tracks led right to the tunnel. We stood beneath the mighty arch and stared into the blackness.

    "Jase, you don't really think there's anything in there?" Donnie said. My fashlight did little to illuminate the inside of the tunnel.

    "I dunno, but the old man seemed pretty certain."

    "Yeah, he also seemed scared."

    I looked him and raised my eyebrow. "You believe in fairy tales, Donnie?" I laughed.

    "Not fairy tales, but real things, like bears, and bats and stuff."

    "We deal with the most dangerous and venomous spiders every day and you're afraid of a bat?"

    We had flown from Los Angeles to Portland, Oregon and had traveled three hours into the woods all because of a tip that there was a rare arachnid living in these woods. One month ago, an enormous spider carcass had been found floating in the river about five miles from here. It was like nothing we'd ever seen before and with a leg-span of over a foot, we determined it was a juvenile.

    There was an old man who lived near this mountain, who told us about this abandoned railroad tunnel. He told us there was a collapse seventy years ago and it’s been empty ever since.

    “Let’s just do this,” Donnie said, entering the tunnel. I followed.

    It was wet and the smell of dirt and mold was overwhelming. Some places you could still walk on the tracks, but other places you had to climb over mounds of rocks. I scanned the walls.

    “Donnie, look at this!” I said, staring at a white strand of silk stuck to the wall. “It’s almost two millimeters thick!”

    “That’s impossible,” Donnie said. “There isn’t a spider in the world that makes silk that thick.”

    “That we know of,” I added. Grabbing my backpack, I pulled out a specimen bag and reached for the silk. I couldn’t remove it from the wall. “It’s stuck!” I said, pulling on it harder.

    “Let me help,” Donnie said, grabbing onto the line and pulling.

    We kept pulling and tugging on the line until we heard a noise from behind us. I turned around and saw eight black, shiny eyes staring at us. It stood over eight feet tall, and the legs probably spanned about twelve feet.

    “My god…” I said, mesmerized by its beauty and terrified of its power. It was about ten feet away, just watching us.

    “Let’s get the hell out of here!” Donnie said, moving toward the light of the exit. He grabbed my arm and we both started running. I could here the giant arachnid following close behind us, clinging to the ceiling and causing rocks to fall to the floor.

    “Faster!” I screamed. We were almost to the entrance and I caught up with Donnie, who was out of breath. “Come on buddy, we gotta keep going!” I told him. A silk thread shot past our heads as we saw the spider leap toward us. I pushed Donnie aside and the spider missed both of us. We sprinted out of the tunnel and threw ourselves on the ground.

    The spider was undaunted by the bright light of the afternoon and slowly hovered over top of us. Just as the spider was about to sink its fangs into us, a shotgun blast ripped through the spiders abdomen. It squealed and staggered back. Another shot rang out, taking off one of the spiders legs. It crawled back into the darkness.

    “I told y’all there was something in there.” The old man said, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder. “Next time you do well to listen.”

    We never went back to the tunnel and to this day, Donnie and I don’t talk about it.

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