Writing Prompt It was a long day at work. When you get home you head to your bedroom, only to find ‘Did you eat a pretzel this morning’ written in blood on the wall.

[ElijahRyne]

Questions to answer: What do you do? Who wrote it? Who was the message address too? And, why pretzels?

 

[CupcakeNinja]

Questions to answer: What do you do? Who wrote it? Who was the message address too? And, why pretzels?

My wife wrote it in her period blood. She absolutely LOVES pretzels and was saving two large soft ones for herself, which she rightly suspects I devoured. She knows that, because she keeps a secret camera trained on her pretzels at all times. This question was merely a test of my honestly, of which I failed by answering, "what? No, honey, of course not."

And then the incriminating video suddenly plays on the living room television. I start to sweat. The bitch was recording me!

The video ends and she appears next, dressed in a dark cloak with a deep hood. "Let's play a game" she says through the screen.

A gas spreads through the room from the vents. I pass out.

What must be hours later, I wake to the sound of creaking wood and rough rolling across uneven ground.

"Hey, you, you're finally awake; you were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that imperial ambush, same as us and that horse thief over there"

Todd Howard, you son of a bitch.

That feeling when Todd is your father in law

 

[gogo7966]

 

[Paul_Tromba]

I sigh in defeat as I go to my sink, Reach under it and pull out the bleach and vinegar. As I'm cleaning it I hear the voice of my most hated enemy. "did you eat it?" he asks with a mildly annoyed tone.
"No. I hate snack pretzels. plus, we haven't had pretzels in this house in a long time." I reply with a snarky tone.
"then buy me some." he demands.
"Alright, but tell me this. Whose blood is this?" I ask with an annoyed expression.
"I don't know." he replied truthfully.
"you were drunk weren't you?"
"..."
"Whatever." I reply defeated as I stop speaking with the mirror in my room. Once the blood is cleaned off I write the words "paint" and "pretzels" on my shopping list and go to bed.

 

[PhillisCreziles]

Questions to answer: What do you do? Who wrote it? Who was the message address too? And, why pretzels?

Take a photo of it, and send it to my friends with the caption, "This u?".
The cashier lady who I had just talked to this morning while heading out to work.
Clearly not me, didn't buy or eat any pretzels this morning.
She dislikes pretzels and is using this as propaganda to recruit people into a great war between pretzels and chips

 

[LordJoyde]

I would clean it up and slap a piece of paper on that wall that says: Ew, what kind of unhygienic troglodyte writes in blood?

 

[SakeVision]

I misread "Did" as "Dio" and tbh it would make the prompt much more interesting

 

[K5Rakitan]

If I actually leave the house for work, that means my children are old enough to write.
I would call 911 and have my husband and children hospitalized for their mental health. We would figure out which one wrote the message later. I'm not going to do the guesswork myself. Come to think of it, I should have my parents hospitalized as well. They live next door and have keys to our home.

 

[BL_KeepsMeAlive]

"Yes I fucking ate your pretzel, Ham." I snorted.
The demon I had been dating for six months now walked up to me and slapped my cheek, staining my face with their blood. The same blood that was used to taint my wall. "HOW COULD YOU! TRAITOR!" They screeched at me, throwing punches blindly. Their tiny, bruised hands did little to hurt me. Ham had slit their wrists and their blood dripped all over my floor. "I hate you!!" They sobbed.
I looked down at their face apathetically, watching as crocodile tears streamed from their gray eyes. The mascara they usually spent so much time applying was ruined, dripping down their face. Demons can't physically shed tears. When we first started dating, Ham would trick me into believing they were crying by dripping water into their eye-sockets with a syringe."It's not like you could eat it anyway." Demons in general relied on a partner to feed them blood or other bodily fluids. I had been giving them a little of both lately.
Rolling my eyes, I shoved them off me and belly flopped onto my bed, ignoring their whining.
"But I worked so hard to cultivate him!!"
Huh?
"I even named him after he said his first words!!"
"What the fuck are you talking about Ham?"
"How do you think us demons are born, idiot! You ate my son after he possessed that stupid human food that was filled with your semen! How could you!"
I felt the blood drain from my face and I rushed to the bathroom to puke.
"Die asshole!"
"Why was THAT in the-- blech!" I hurled all the contents out of my stomach, convulsing while Ham patted my back.
"How else is he supposed to possess his first vessel?"
I gagged.
"You know what we have to do now, right?" They whispered close to my ear.
"Wh-what are you talking about?"
Ham gave me an eerie grin. "It's time for you to repent for what you have done." The creepy smile began to look somewhat genuine, "I'll go get my human carving kit! <3"
Any trace of sadness over losing their child was gone. Only their bleeding wrists and tear-streaked mascara proved that I wasn't dreaming.

And that was the day I ate my first-born child.

 

[Deleted member 45782]

Being a vampire, just gonna sit back and watch. Eventually whoever took the blood that was supposed to be for my dinner will come out.

Then its playtime.

Been so long since had someone over for a meal.

The narrator was a villain now turned protagonist.

 

[TotallyHuman]

Probably a stalker or a ghost.

 

[Discount_Blade]

My wife wrote it in her period blood. She absolutely LOVES pretzels and was saving two large soft ones for herself, which she rightly suspects I devoured. She knows that, because she keeps a secret camera trained on her pretzels at all times. This question was merely a test of my honestly, of which I failed by answering, "what? No, honey, of course not."

And then the incriminating video suddenly plays on the living room television. I start to sweat. The bitch was recording me!

The video ends and she appears next, dressed in a dark cloak with a deep hood. "Let's play a game" she says through the screen.

A gas spreads through the room from the vents. I pass out.

What must be hours later, I wake to the sound of creaking wood and rough rolling across uneven ground.

"Hey, you, you're finally awake; you were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that imperial ambush, same as us and that horse thief over there"

Todd Howard, you son of a bitch.

That feeling when Todd is your father in law

Pretty sure them divorce papers are coming soon.

 

[TheTrinary]

I gape at the cursive blood swirls on my wall. "Did youeat a preztel th*s morning?" The hand writing is horrible but that's hardly what's bothering me know.

I pick up the phone to call the police because something isn't right, but the phone won't connect. There is no surface.

I jerk open my door to run down the hallway, gotta get outside. But it takes me several seconds to realize that the hallway I'm running down is longer than it should be. By the time I realize, I'm turning where there shouldn't be a turn and I end up in a coat closet that doesn't even connect to this hallway.

I slam the door shut behind me and blockade it with some old boxes I keep in there. Luckily there's a light, but as I turn it on, I realize that this room too is larger than it should be. And there's another door. A door on the side of the closet that wasn't there before. Of course I'm not going on there, but I eye it suspiciously. As I'm contemplating this new door, trying to wrap my head around what's going on, the door I have my back to rattles.

Rap, rap, rap.

"Who's there?"

The door shakes on its hinges and starts to bang. There's a horrible scratching sound from the outside. It feels like even with me propping it up, the closest door is going to collapse on me at any second. Whatever out there will get in.

Taking a deep breath, I lunge forward and grab the mystery door and barrel through.

This time I'm not in a wrong hallway, not even in the wrong room. I'm in a long black expanse and I can't see. Reaching out with my hands, I can feel walls close to me on each side, too close. It's like I'm in a horizontal mine shaft. But as I close the door behind me, I hear the closet door with that THING break down; it's now only one room behind me so I run through the dark. My hands against the walls, I feel turn offs, other doors, . . . something else. But I just keep going. I keep going until the tunnel of a hallway meets a fork. I have to decide now, but I don't know which way to go.

I'm lost. Something is pitter pattering down that infinitely dark hallway. My house is all twisted up like a pretzel and I have to get out.

END OF PART 1.

So this got away from me a bit. I actually was going to answer all the questions you presented. The original message was going to be from the house's original owner who has been trapped inside the entire time. They wrote it in their own blood trying to warn me. It turns out the hand writing was so bad that he wasn't asking me if I ate a pretzel. Still not sure what the real message was going to be but you could do some trickery with it.

I guess meeting this guy would be the second act, and then we'd try to get out of the house in the third act but things would keep getting worse and weirder. It's like a 20 page idea more than a writing prompt.

 

[Wlel]

I rolls my eyes lazily. "For fuck's sake...." I go to the kitchen and grab some wet cloth. Then I wipe the blood on my wall as I lost in my thoughts.

This is the umpteenth time there's something written on my wall. The first one was, "Hello", then "I'm your roommate", followed by "Do you like pretzel?".

At first it makes me scared, but then when I see it from time to time, the familiarity changes how I feel towards it. From scared to annoyed. I mean, who's gonna not get annoyed to clean your fucking wall from blood everytime you go home from a tiring work? Surely every human beings would annoyed by it.

"I don't know who you are or what you are." Surely he/she is not a human, maybe a ghost, a lost spirit, or a wondering that dwells out of boredom.

"But can you just don't write something on my wall? Moreover with a freaking blood? I don't know how or who's blood is that, and I don't want to know. All I want is, just don't write anything on my wall, ok? I'm tired to clean all this craps." I said to no one in my room.

There's no answer, no voices I could hear. Of course he/she wouldn't said anything. And it's not like I hope some reply for it.

I sighed weakly, hope this is the last time I wiped this blood from my wall.

"Hm?" When I done wiped my wall, suddenly I feel something on my back. Like a finger that move accros my back trying to write some words.

Luckly there's a mirror in my room, so I get up and see the mirror reflected what's on my back.

"Then, It is okay like this? By the way can you spare some pretzels that you eat this morning for me? they're looks tasty, I wonder how it taste."

...... He/she did it, It's written on my white, clean, working shirt. What's worse is, it's written with a fucking chocolate jam. Chocolate jam, on my white working shirt........

"Motherfucker." Instead pretzel, I will give you a fucking exorcise and purify out of shit from you!



So that night I perform an exorcise by myself but turns out I use the wrong spell. What I use is the spell that would invite another spirits to my room. So that night, I got newly two spirits. Since that day, I lives with three spirits in my apartement. And wiped three random words on my wall. What a hussle.....