Is a story that makes you think, “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot” a mystery? Because that’s what I’ve got for you this week.
- Character: Llama Rancher
- Object: Deck of Cards
- Genre: Mystery/Fantasy
In a moment of panic, as the timer counted down, I realized that I had a great set up for a murder mystery, but I had no idea how I wanted to resolve it. Then I remembered that the genre was mystery/fantasy, so I introduced magic. And a bit of nonsense. Well, I still like it.
How would you use these prompt elements in a story? Please let us know if you write your own!
It was an odd sort of day at Wild Card Llama Ranch. Some of it was usual. Spades was nuzzling Jacob’s arm. Hearts and Diamonds were grazing a few yards away. Clubs was staring at him from across the field. Sweat was dripping down his face though he felt nothing but a deep chill, and he was staring numbly at the freshly dug grave in his llama field; a human hand sticking up through the dirt.
A white line surrounded the grave, he thought that it was salt at first, but as he got closer he realized that it was torn up paper – playing cards to be precise – he could see the red and black ink on some of the scraps. Was this some sort of sick joke?
He needed to call the police. He dialed 911, but his phone kept dropping the signal. He should pen up his quad of llamas and go back to the house to call. But something kept him glued to the spot. Spades had stopped nuzzling his arm and had wandered to the edge of the circle. He started sniffing at the cards, and then chewing at a small clump of the shreds.
“Spades! Leave that alone!” Jacob cried. “That’s evidence…”
But the moment the circle of cards was broken, the fingers on the hand flexed and twitched. Jacob cried out wordlessly, ran forward, and started pawing around in the dirt.
The hand grasped his wrist, and he pulled. A dirt covered man started emerged from the grave, dressed in a black, medieval jester’s outfit, complete with the hat and bells, carrying a bell covered stick. He was gasping, but grinning, and shaking his limbs out, brushing the dirt from his clothes.
“Thank you, friend! They nearly had me beaten at the game!” said the Jester.
“What game?” asked Jacob in a weak voice.
“I don’t have time to explain the rules now, and you can’t join in the middle of a hand I’m afraid!” The Jester slapped Jacob’s shoulder jocularly.
“I wasn’t asking to join…” Jacob started, but the jester was climbing on top of Spades. “What are you doing to Spades?”
The Jester was tapping Spades on the shoulders with his stick. Spades looked excited for a llama.
“To finish this hand, I’m going to need a noble steed!” crowed The Jester.
“But Spades is my llama! And you should be dead!” He added the last part even though it was a bit rude.
All Jacob heard in echoing reply as the Jester and Spades disappeared down the grave into nothingness.
“I’ll bring him back or I won’t! Jokers are wild!”