Today we’re doing something a tad different. I wanted to play a writing game, and invite you all to join me. The game is called Tops and Tails
I discovered this while wandering the internet. Here’s the link: http://www.timwynne-jones.com/pages/writinggames.html . There are quite a few other writing games and exercises to try out (some of which I will be referencing here at a later date).
Here are the rules. Find a book, article, short story, etc. Open to a random page, and point to a random line. Write that sentence down. This is the “top” of your story. Next, go find another book, article, short story, etc. Open to a random page, and point to a random line. Write that sentence down. This is the last line of your story, the “tail”. The challenge is to write the two lines together. You may not change the lines whatsoever (with the exception of very minor punctuation), and you may not add or take away words.
The idea of this game is to be creative. You really shouldn’t stop and edit, just let the thoughts flow. You can edit the story after.
Here’s one to get us started. I’ve found two sentences.
- “That’s what’s been carrying the sound up here!”
- “It would please the people to know that during his last minutes, a man of God was with him.”
Traveler will post what we came up with in a bit. I recommend you try to come up with a story on your own, and we can compare. (If you can, post it down below.) The genre turned out to be horror, so bear that in mind as you proceed.
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“That’s what’s been carrying the sound up here!” Rose touched the little black painted steel ventilation ducts attached to the ceiling. The catwalk shook with a shout from her partner Jason shouted into the vent and walkie talkie below. She lurched forward, catching the railing for support. His works were undecipherable.
“Jason,” Rose said coolly, “You are going to make me fall if you scream again. What did you say? Over.” Rose didn’t let go of the railing, hoping Jason got the hint but not entirely sure he’d comply.
“Sorry Rose,” he said, now only through the walkie. “I didn’t think it was all that loud. Over.”
Rose rolled her eyes. “Well, it sure sounded loud up here. Now what on earth did you say the first time? Over.”
There was a short pause, and Rose was certain that Jason was now rolling his eyes too. “I was saying that because the vents are bringing the noise here, it means that the ventilation system will lead us to the source of the noise. You said you had the schematics to the place with you, right? Over.”
Rose took out her camera, a small dinky thing she used to film short videos for her Youtube channel. She had taken pictures of the theater the previous night, while Jason was talking with the current film producer. The image was clear, but the vents on the map were on the other side of the theater room. Rose looked up, squinting in the general direction of the vents. Across the ceiling, she saw them. They were silver, concealed by a small tarp facing the floor.
She spoke into the walkie quickly. “It’s no good. This part of the ventilation system isn’t on the maps. I’m coming back down. Over.” She pocketed the camera, then carefully made her way back to the stage floor.
Jason was there, tapping his foot, waiting. When she reached the ground, he pointed to the props room door. “The vent travels through the wall into that room. We should follow it.” She nodded in agreement.
Jason took the lead, marching over to the door and yanking it open. Rose had been inside only once before when she had needed to grab a hat for a fellow actor. It had been right at the front, and she never dreamed that there could be anything beyond the clutter of costumes. Jason dove in, pushing aside cloaks and painted letters, glassware, an old typewriter, and piles of sheets. Rose stood back trying to envision where on the other side of the wall the vent came through.
A large dresser and a rack of clothing stood up against the wall where she guessed it must be. After tearing through the clothes rack, finding nothing, she tapped Jason on the shoulder. “Help me move this dresser. This is the only place it could poke through.” Together, the two of them slowly slid the dresser aside, revealing a black ventilation duct. It led down the wall, into the floor.
Jason cursed. “This building has no basement. How are we supposed to follow it now?” Rose was puzzled too. It led right into the floor, but it didn’t look right. She knelt down, touching the ducts intersection with the floor. There was a small gap, and air was coming from beneath it.
“Jason!” Rose accidentally shouted, breaking his analytic gaze. “There’s air from the floor. A gap of some sort. Maybe we could pry it loose.”
Jason knelt down to check. “Would the owner of the building let us?”
“They want to know just as much as we do. We’re doing them a favor. Come on. There’s got to be a crowbar or…” As she was speaking, Jason pulled out a small pocket knife, and was sticking it into the crack, levering the board up. “That works too.”
After a minute of working at the adhesive keeping the wood down, the board popped out of place. The pipe went down a long, dark hole, lined with earth and rock. An old metal ladder was attached to one wall, spiraling around as it led into the darkness. The air was musty, making Rose shiver with an odd chill.
“Well…” Jason said, gazing down into the pit. “Ladies first.” Rose hit him in the shoulder, but dropped down to the first rung, squeezing herself through the small gap and into the pit below. As she descended, feeling for the next rung as the hole got darker and darker, the air began to turn humid and sticky. She could hear Jason above her, every once in a while making a comment about the dark or the horrible idea it was to come down here. But they kept on nevertheless.
Rose felt for yet another rung. Instead, she found the floor. Gingerly letting go of the previous rung, she felt for the wall. It was rocky and wet. A bright light blinded her, and she shrieked, jumping up against the wall. It was only Jason, who had pulled out a flashlight.
“Sorry,” he muttered, turning it around the room. The vent led across the room, concrete walls leading to a wooden door that mirrored the one above, without the paint or handle. The floor was wooden too. The vent poked out of the wall by the door.
They approached the door gingerly. Jason was in the lead again, slowly walking toward the door. The crackle of the walkie made them both jump. “Either of you there?” the voice of the producer came through.
Rose was quicker to pick it up. “Both right here, Derrick. Is this important? We’re kinda in the middle of something down here. Over.”
There was silence for a moment, then Jason added, “Derrick, what is it?”
“The noise has started again. Eerie voices, echoes from previous productions. Rose, I hear your voice, saying lines from your last play.”
Rose gulped. “We’re on it, Derrick. Just stay put.” Rose put her walkie back.
Jason nodded to the door. “Do you hear it too?”
She nodded. Her voice was coming from beyond the door. Words she had spoken before. Someone had recorded the play, and was playing it just outside the room. Jason held up a hand. Three, two, one…
They burst through the door.
They were in the theater hall. There was an audience. In every seat, a body sat upright. Pale. Dusty. Bones. Cracked skulls. Throats with gashes and slices in them. Some headless. Decayed flesh. The smell was rancid. Jason gagged, and Rose turned away in shock. Right to the stage.
A woman in a sleek black dress stood upon stage, looking out to the audience. She turned her head. Made eye contact. Smiled a devious grin. One she had seen before in a mirror.
The woman on stage waved her hand toward Jason, who hadn’t turned around. He had backed away from the audience. Rose turned to see four of the corpses had risen, and were coming right at them. Before either of them could move, they had been seized. Jason was led on stage by the arms, unable to break free, staring aghast at the woman on stage, glancing at Rose to make the comparison. She had been pulled into a front row seat, held down by the two corpses next to her.
The woman began to monologue, a familiar narration from the previous play. “The sun began to set on the final day, when the killer would at last be rid of his final ties to the world.” Jason was pushed violently to the floor as a phantom figure floated across stage, an ethereal executioner’s axe in his hand.
Rose began to yell, but the dead would not let go. “Jason run!” she shrieked, but the phantom was atop him already. The axe was lifted into the air above Jason’s head.
A familiar dark chuckle came from the Rose who stood on stage as she spoke the final words of the play. “It would please the people to know that during his last minutes, a man of God was with him.”
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This is what came of the game. I edited this to be as clean copy as possible, though I normally won’t if I don’t plan on showing it to anyone. It’s a nice little exercise to do when bored.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this change of pace. I may do more in the future.
Thanks for playing!
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(They, sadly, won’t have that consolation.)
This is a final edit. These after pieces that keep appearing show up after the editing process. I still can’t trace it back to anyone. Please don’t tell Patrick. He’s busy. I can handle this on my own. If you notice anything else that’s off, type K in front of the post. I’ll be able to get to it first. Keep your eyes open. ~Keeper
The Hypothetical Game 