Sent by the Dark King – an ISG Writing Exercise

These three words were chosen:

  • Ukulele
  • Vinyl
  • Flying

And these blurbs were written within five minutes….Enjoy!



The fairy sat on the giant roots of the ancient oak tree, one leg crossed over the other, strumming a glowing ukulele, a thoughtful expression lending a gravity to the song at odds with the lilting notes. Riel waited nervously, a sinking feeling in his stomach warning him that he would not like what the small creature had to say.

“I think that we may have to leave without him,” the fairy finally announced. The forest glade was suddenly silent as the music died away, the sound flying away as if chased by dark shadows.

“What?” Riel said, his jaw slack with shock. “How can you say that? We need him to guide us back!”.

The fairy stood up, his red jacket gleaming like new vinyl, black eyes narrowed at Riel. “He’s not here, is he? Or is he hiding, perhaps between the leaves?”

Riel was forced to shake his head, and the fairy’s fierce expression softened. “Besides, how can you be sure he’s not a spy, sent by the Dark King to foil our plan?”

“You can’t,” a voice announced as a tall, lean man in the dark clothes of a ranger stepped into the open clearing. “But you don’t really have a choice, do you?”

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The ukulele sounded particularly loud over the speaker this morning.

Sammy stared daggers at teacher who industriously wrote on the chalkboard while the sounds of the morning speech were intro’d by the odd twang. The vinyl that hung over the windows blocking the view from the outdoors and sun was causing Sammy to twitch. The class was dim, the ukulele ground into her nerves and the chattering of the other students made her snap. Literally. Sammy’s pencil broke, one part landing on the floor and the other flying across the room. Sammy stood to retrieve it when the teacher turned just in time for the point of the pencil to whack him in the mouth. He bellowed right before his eyes met hers. He pointed at the door.


Sammy scrambled to collect her things and run for the door.


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“What the hell are we listening to?” the demon demanded, staring hard at his current owner from across the table.

“It’s masterworks on the ukulele,” the man replied, frowning at his prisoner. “Have you never heard it before?”

The demon made a face, lifting his hands to cover his long ears dramatically. “I have. In Hawaii. Where they had volcanoes and plenty of willing virgins.” He glared at the magician. “There’s a reason I live on the mainland.”

“How can you not enjoy this sound?” the man asked. “It’s even on vinyl! That just amplifies the quality.”

“Yes, the quality that makes my ears want to start bleeding,” the demon snapped. “Can we just get to it already? Tell me what you want.”

The magician’s face grew hard, and the demon sensed the power that had called him to this man’s circle. “You do not get to demand things of me,” he said in a low voice. “You are here at my mercy.”

The demon nodded, face respectful, tucking his fangs back behind his lips even as he imagined the body of the magician flying through the glass window and down the thirty stories to the street below. That would not do, he decided. One with this much power might be able to actually fly, saving himself from death and drawing out their agreement even longer.

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The ukulele went flying across the room. “Babe, stop!” Michael said as he dodged the offending object. “I swear it’s not that big of a deal!” He continued, narrowly escaping a vinyl record aimed for his neck.

“NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL??” His girlfriend, Andrea screamed, red in the face. “Are you kidding me? I’m a vampire hunter! Why in the world would this be no big deal?”

Michael thought for a second. “Well now I work the night shift easily!” He smiled, showing off his new vampire fangs.

She growled in frustration, pulling at her hair. “I can’t believe you have lived this long!”

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Filed under Creative Writing, Writers Group, Writing, Writing Exercise

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