Sub-Genre Rewrite the Prompt Challenge!

[Cia]

We hope you will enjoy a special challenge to rewrite a prompt based in sub-genres that are often overlooked on GA. Your goal is to rewrite the prompt to show it instead of telling it. You can focus on the scene itself or rewrite it into a new story. Add more that comes before or after but be sure to include these paragraphs in all the glorious five senses details to bring the story alive for readers. More than 1 author can pick the same prompt, as we all visualize scenes differently. Time to work that brain!

What do authors get out of it? Well, more skills of course, and more exposure on GA! Feel free to ask questions, chat about your ideas, post snippets (but not the whole thing), and more below in this topic. Final drafts should be posted, unpublished, to GA Stories as part of a collection submission if it is less than 1k in length or as a completed story. Share links to final submissions with @Cia via a PM. 

Deadline for Submission: May 22nd

Participants will be featured in a special site blog and email to readers! 

Prompts

Comic Scifi

Buddy was one of the very first Earth astronauts to travel beyond the moon, but disaster struck while the Moon blocked communications. His head hurt, and he floated in his seat. The shuttle thrusters were damaged by the sudden dislocation, so he drifted in unfamiliar space until something hauled him inside a large, empty room. Buddy paced, not knowing what to do other than put on his helmet and cram food and water into his pockets just in case. “Don’t throw up,” he told himself. He had no weapons. Why didn’t he have weapons?

Loud sounds came from the rear of the shuttle, and he almost fell over turning. Light hurt his eyes, and he blocked it.

“Hey there buddy, how’s it hanging? Mine goes to the left and right, but I hear humans only have one.”

Nope. No way was there an alien who knew his name, speaking English, talking about his penis. Penises.

Aliens were not real. They wouldn’t speak English. They wouldn’t look like that. Buddy must have….

Fantasy Assassin

“I’m not an assassin, I’m the baker’s apprentice!” The lad shook between the guards, but they weren’t fooled by his posture or voice. They kept a good grip on him and the other on their swords.

The head of the guard looked down from his place on the dais beside the king. “The boy and his master came for the festival.” The city was full of people for the celebration. Even as insulated as the shining castle was, the cheer of the crowds could be heard outside. Inside this room, nothing but the discussion around the attempt on the king's life and finding who was to blame was audible. The boy's fearful sounds echoed in the large room. 

“So not from the city.” The king sat back in his big throne, adjusting his crown over his pointed ears. “No one to vouch for him, and the proof is there.” The plate of pastries sat on a table nearby. A bird lay on its side on the shining tablecloth. “We could declare him a traitor against the crown and throw him in the pit with the chimera.”

The king stared at his captain who moved closer. “If you are sure the assassin has been identified, then do what you must to end this risk to our life.”

A scream rang out and grew louder. The windows broke. Animals flew in or slithered over the broken glass. "Go," ordered the captain. "To the chimera at once!" He drew both his swords and swung them. 

Historical Medieval

The young king looked to his queen mother who stood at the window. “What should I do?”

“Let him in. Messengers are protected under tradition.” She turned away from the cold window and went to the fireplace that held a large fire to warm herself.

He wished he could do the same, his cloak not enough to keep the chill of the large, nearly empty castle at bay. The old chamberlain ushered in the messenger, a man who looked more like a soldier than a silk-swaddled rider. It was the boots that gave it away.

The man bowed his head only, and the old queen sucked in a breath. The king ignored it. “Why are you here?” he asked.

“To bring you this.” The messenger who was not a messenger held out a sealed letter. Jumping into action, the chamberlain took it and then brought it to the king. He cracked the thick paper open, reading the inked lines.

“A declaration of war? What can your lord want with my ravaged kingdom?”

The messenger met his gaze for the first time. “He wants….”

Horror Weird Science

“Dad, what is going on?”

“Just do what I say. You need to leave for the weekend. You can come home on Monday.” His voice was faint on the line. “I’ll be home in an hour. Don’t be there.”

“Seriously? I have a test on Monday. I need to study.”

“I put money in your account. You can get a hotel.” A horn blared. “I need to go.” His dad hung up.

Adam was mad and stomped around his room. He had a test and two papers to work on. Finals were coming. He had a ton of stuff he needed to take, and a backpack would not work. The suitcase was in the attic. Unbelievably, the door was locked but he found the key on the top of the door jamb and got inside. “What is going on with you, Dad?” he muttered.

Blinking, he stared at the transformed attic. Lights blinked, something hissed on a burner in the corner, and what was that smell…?

Something scurried just out of his sight. Adam caught sight of a pale forehead and big eyes. He was scared, and angry, and couldn’t believe his dad was doing it again, in their attic, and right above his room. Racoons, yeah right. “Hello?”

Mystery Noir/Hard-Boiled

The woman walked down the dark hallway. Nothing else could smell like that in a place this dank. He lit a match against the rough concrete wall, touching it to his cigarette tip and sucking so it caught on fire. “Where you going?” Dick asked.

She screamed and turned, a small gun shaking in her hand.

Not good. Those wide eyes and shaking hands said the doll wasn’t a professional, which meant he could end up with a hole in him. And paying to get his shirt and his skin patched up was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“A man trying to answer some questions. Like where you are going with that gun.” The men in the room up those stairs had bigger guns, and from the count he’d made, there were more than she had bullets for anyway.

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

He could tell her a thing or two. How they’d take that gun away from her. How she would be hurt before thrown into the harbor like trash. That’s what he would let them do.

Not Dante Bello himself, oh no. He was too refined. But his men were monsters, and he gave them a long leash. Dick didn’t want the evidence he was searching for to come at this doll’s expense.

Romance Western

“I dunno if we can make it another year.” Henry led his horse into the barn and out of the snow. The ranch was dusty and cold, with snow blowing around their ankles. His trousers didn’t keep out the wind.

“We don’t gotta choice. Pa left us this place, and Ma won’t go nowhere else.” John looked over the stall wall where he was grooming his mount. “You don’t wanna go either.”

He didn’t. Henry knew how the world treated men like him. His ma and brother knew, had to after all the times he’d turned down courtin’ Miss Loretta when her mama hinted at Sunday service, and with her the prettiest girl in town and all. They didn’t speak of it, but they didn’t condemn him either. And those new hands they’d hired after Pa died… they’d come to the main house hurt, standing too close with eyes wide but lips firm.

Ma had said hire them, so he did. But they needed someone with more experience with cattle. Pa had died too soon.

“You should go over to the Walker ranch. Talk to him. See if he’ll come help.”

“Jimmy Nunn don’t want nuthin’ to do with me. He said so.” Henry was embarrassed and mad remembering their last time.

“That was then. This is now. Won’t kill ya to ask, but it will kill the ranch not to. We need him.”

Henry didn’t want to say how much he needed Jimmy. How the last time they’d had their hands on each other wasn’t enough. He closed his eyes, wishing….

Scifi Utopian

Traffic was non-existent, but that was why he traveled in the midday hours when the sun was at its peak and bouncing off the water as far as the eye could see. Not on the curving bridges far overhead that connected the floating cities that housed the survivors, but down below, on the water itself.

The largest predators were sleeping then, so it was the safest time to move across the deep spots in the water as well.

Cark was a scav. He chose to take his boat out of the city and into the open water to locate old-timer tech buried under the ocean. It was a vital service to the city, and everyone did their part. It also served his curiosity. They didn’t learn a lot about the past except what lessons to avoid.

His goal today was a big building that had been built so well it showed signs of air pockets. What could he find that had been protected from the water for over four hundred years? Cark paused, speaking sternly to himself. He was excited to find things to donate to the collective, not for personal interest.

Thriller Medical

“Use the scalpel. You’ll need to cut it out.”

Dr. Beal stared at the metal instrument in horror. “No, you can’t ask me to do that.”

“I didn’t ask. I’m telling you.” Blood audibly dripped from the wound onto the metal table. “Or do you want me to die?”

“Of course I don’t. I’m a doctor!” Ivan Beal was scared, frustrated, and exhausted. He’d been woken up from a sound sleep in his own bed, marched to a car, and brought here.

He didn’t understand what was going on. Why didn’t anyone help him? His neighbors or someone on the street?

The two men standing beside the door stared at him, arms folded. No help there. The one on the right twitched, and his fingers flexed near his weapon.

Ivan didn’t want to die either. Oh no. Was he going to have a panic attack?

“Dr. Beal. Ivan.” The voice came from a distance. He focused on it. Ivan looked up. When had he sat down on the floor?

A drop of blood fell from the man’s wound onto his hand. “Are you okay?”

“Umm… no. I was kidnapped. And you’re bleeding on me.” He was surprised by the dark chuckle.

“I may be able to help with the first if you help with the second.”

[Cia]

Example of a rewrite for those wondering about what kind of things could be changed, added, etc... 

Comic Scifi

Quote

Buddy was one of the very first Earth astronauts to travel beyond the moon, but disaster struck while the Moon blocked communications. His head hurt, and he floated in his seat. The shuttle thrusters were damaged by the sudden dislocation, so he drifted in unfamiliar space (ended here). 

could become:

Quote

 

Buddy stared out the window at the far side of the moon. It was pocked with so many impacts from meteoroids, and the progress on the communications tower was only half-complete due to a storm that had dented two of the arms needed to hold the dish. For the first time since he sat down in the shuttle before countdown started, it was silent. No interruptions from Earth. If there wasn't a camera in here, he could even jack off. Buddy grinned; that would be scandalous footage if it ever got it. His dad would be mortified instead of proud of his astronaut son. 

He faced forward, staring out at the inky blank expanse of space he'd been training his whole life to enter. His mission was farther out; he was headed even farther than the Mars mission had gone. A flash in the left window caught his eye, and Buddy squinted. The orange light flared again, and he gasped. Like a net, the light spread over the shuttle, and he was wrenched sideways in his seat. His neck popped, his head slammed sideways and then back, and then it all disappeared. 

"What in the hell was that?" he said shakily. He scanned the instrument panels. "Shit, Fuck, Damn!" The thrusters were showing as non-operational, and he was drifting. What was he supposed to do? Protocols. There were protocols for everything, and Buddy rubbed his fingers over his forehead trying to remember them. If only his head didn't hurt so much. 

Drifting where? Location first. Tapping the navigation screen, he waited for it to show his path from Earth to the dark side of the moon. It did... but then something strange happened. His shuttle just disappeared. 

Well no, it didn't disappear. He could see it. Feel the cool metal under his fingers and the thin cushion under his ass. The dried eggs he'd cooked tainted the air with their sulphur smell, and sat like a tiny rubber rock in his stomach. But according to his flight log, his shuttle was no longer by the moon. If it was right, he wasn't even in Earth's solar system anymore.