Chain Story - Genre Unknown

So I thought it would be interesting to start a chain story to help with writers’ block or just for inspiration. The rules are simple: (1) keep the story going and (2) Be creative. Remember, the next author has to pick up from where the previous author left off. So, let’s begin.

Story:

The bracelet appeared old, with grime covering the center of the gemstone. Arkaden had found the bracelet that belonged to…

Hi there!

I have moved your thread to the #character-and-games Category as your thread is better suited there.

Thank you for understanding! :yellow_heart:

Irena
Community Ambassador

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Belonged to Hades. Legend said the wearer of Hades’ bracelet would be granted one hour with a long dead soul of his choice.

Arkaden slapped the bracelet on his wrist…

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Arkaden slapped the bracelet on his wrist and was transported to the underworld. Taken aback, Arkaden fell to the ground as he tried to catch his breath. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a dark figure appeared in a dark hooded robe…

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Arkaden’s vision swam. The figure before him although within arm’s reach, was impossible to define. Moreover, he or it, appeared to glide over the stagnant river to Arkaden’s right.

However what baffled Arkaden more than the figure’s appearance was what he carried over his shoulder.

It was a bazooka.

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It was a bazooka

Shaking and still shock by his surroundings, “why do you have that bazooka?”
The figure pointed the bazooka at him, “I carry it because I died with it, now why was I summoned here?”

He showed him the bracelet, I’m here to see…

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“I’m here to see Alexander York.” Arkaden said.

The figure did not speak nor give the slightest indication of having heard Arkaden’s brazen request. He merely stretched a gloved hand over the river. A motorcycle ampled its waybover the still waves. Its red chrome paint glinting…

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It’s red chrome paint glinting as it halted for Arkaden to get on.

“Will this take me to Alexander York?” Arkaden said.

The figure reach into his cloak and pull out an old parchment. “Follow this map, and it shall lead you to the person you seek.” The figure said as he handed the parchment to Arkaden.

“Is that all?” Arkaden said…

“Is that all?” Arkaden said.

A low rumble bounced off the still waves. Arkaden thought it were emissions from the motorcycle but no. The hooded figure was laughing.

“Should you meet Aliana,” he said, " Remember; the door is ajar."

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"Remember; the door is ajar. Arkaden was muddled about what the hooded figure said. However, brushing it off, Arkaden revved up the engine and took off in the directions of the map to his destination.

The river curved like a snake’s tail, and the water was dark that Arkaden could not see what lied beneath. Suddenly, a small light slowly begin to rise beneath the river.

Curious, Arkaden slowed the motorcycle down and leaned over to get a better look…

The source of light came from a lantern. Arkaden narrowed his eyes at a young girl who sat crosslegged at the edge of the river. The still waters lapped at the hem of her pink dress.

She lifted the latern at Arkaden’s peering face.

“You wont get far with that map,” she said.

“Who are you?”

“I can help you know,” she ignored his question, “if you solve my riddle.”

The girl’s black eyes challemged him.

Why not?

“Okay. What would it be?”

The girl let out a squeel of delight setting the lantern beside her.

“Yes! When is a door and not a door?”

Ardaken scratched his head, “you mean what are doors made of?”

The girl repeated her riddle.

Ardaken rolled the question in his mind and the hooded figure’s fair warning came to him.

If this girl is Aliana, he stood a fighting chamce.

“When is a door and not a door? When its ajar.” He said.