[F4M] Two Literate NON-CON Prompts *Collaborative Book-Writing*

Heaven as Seen from Prying Eyes [Western/Horror]

Fifteen miles outside of Dodge City, "Old Chaps" as they called him curled against a pathetic fire. He whistled a tune that barely made it through chapped lips, his beard uneven as demanded by his uneven razor. He didn't mind how the wind blew, or how the clouds spit rain or snow... He just sat and whistled an old song, hummed by his mother when she carried him, sang by his father before he was gunned down outside a bank in the evening sun.
Life hadn't been kind to Old Chaps. And as result, he grew wrinkled at thirty-- his spine curled at forty, and now at fifty years he had nowhere else to sit but here in the rain. Whistling.

Cresting over the hill, where the grass was greener, was Sofia Silver. The people didn't sprout kindly, where she came from. And so she wasn't kind either.

With a gloved paw she reigned her horse in as she felt smoke invading her senses, attacking the sinuses, and her expression soured as she heard his wicked laugh.

"Getting the Hell out of Dodge?" He didn't have to crane his neck far to see her, his beard sagged along with him. Young, and pretty. She just about crossed twenty. And here she was with a vest over her blouse, a wide-brimmed hat sagging in the light rain. A rifle and strap hitched to her chest.
"Yes sir, you're Old Chaps, sir?" She asked, he nodded. "Fellas talk about you often."
"Yeah? What do they say, girl?"
"They say they use you as a marker... They say you got the Devil's laugh, and they say where you sit the Devil makes his supper."

"Ah." Old Chaps sat up, his powdery face half in the black smoke. Sofia curled fingers about her revolver. "And uh, you agree with those fellas girl?"
"According to your laugh I should, sir." She bit her lip. "I'm headed to see the Howlers. So I guess now that I crossed you I've got to be nervous, don't I?"
"Ah."
"And before you anything, know that I got to. Know that the Howler boys have kidnapped six townspeople, and a dog for supper. I think you should've seen them crossing, right? Did they have people on their horses, those Howlers? Why haven't they killed you, old man?"
"They don't kill me, 'cause they don't know me."

Silence. Sofia tried to swallow her tongue and move on, the sun was waning and bugs began to bite.

"What'd you say Old Chaps?"
"They've never killed me, I think... because I've never looked them in the eyes."
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Sofia Silver is off to rescue a group of kidnapped settlers from "The Howlers." A group of wild-people who would rather rob and kill than join civilization. From this post it may seem like I want to write a novel... Well, that's because I kind of do.
As far as the erotic conditions go, you will be one of these Howlers (or many), though his disposition and character are left completely left up to you.

Christianity, and the Occult are the themes to keep in mind whilst writing about this. Presumably, Sofia is crawling into a world completely unknown to her and will come out the other end "reborn," for the better or worse.

We can talk in further detail about ideas and how to write this out should you message.

Hard Limits: Underaged Characters, Gore (in a sexual context), Unrealistic Proportions.

 

Nancy Drew and the Rich Men's Cult [Psychological Cult Mystery]

Nancy’s car cut through the darkness like a tack. 

The moon had long arrived in River Heights, and settled at its post. She was stopped at a green light, the streets were empty and the world was black. It was the entry road that led straight into the lungs of the town.
Unconsciousness still wore itself on her skin, she didn’t find it to be a flattering look- she brought up a hand and slapped herself across the cheek. Her tiles squealed as she yanked the vehicle made of thin metal across the intersection, and wedged the small thing precariously between the roadside and a little drop that led straight into blackberry bush.

Her finger felt the top of her car and eventually found the button. The overheads beamed in a sickly but eager light. It broadcasted Nancy, and her frantic disposition. A car occasionally passed as she collected her spilled papers and brought them back into chronological fold. What she held in her hands now is what held together her entire world. If it was lost, gravity would cease to exist as the Earth stops spinning around the sun.

It had been eight long months of this. Bess had left immediately after graduation- joining her mother in trying to run some sort of upstart in California. Nancy didn’t care what the company was, nor care. Crossing the state lines cut their relationship in two. She was too busy with the ‘case.’ 

Bess’s face had slowly been eroded down to nothing in Nancy’s memory. It had been replaced by the strange projections of twenty others. She had slowly narrowed the view overtime, and all twenty missing persons had been reduced to one profile.

Sex: Female

Age: 19-21

Race: Non-discriminatory 

Education: Attending College

One by one, they all lined up to go into the woods, and disappeared behind a thick wall of trees. There were only three resurfaced girls to her knowledge. Two in recent memory, one in ‘65. That particular victim had changed her name and presumably moved away immediately afterward.

The testimonies had little to no foundation, and only a weary smattering of evidence. And the strange written all over them- like they were dangerously close to being radio show UFO sightings. First, there’s the ‘Crazy Girl’ Nancy Evans. She was fine before she entered- and then something snapped her brain like a branch. Oddly, she was deemed a conspiracy theorist by the local paper despite only being able to say “wheels” over and over.

Then, of course there was Rosalyn Draper. She cemented the strange by recalling the strange machinery and droning noises. 

And the mystery girl from ‘65 was the most infuriating piece of the puzzle. Nancy stepped in while her father was away from the County Sheriff’s office three months ago. There was a cool cat deputy there who liked hunting, cars, and Nancy. He’d helped her look for the case file, but it had seemed to slip through the cracks.

Sometimes the timeline shifted and shivered. Sometimes two people would go missing in the woods. Occasionally, no one would go at all. Nancy accounted for all of it. On average, something happened every two years. Like a weatherman’s forecast, what would happen during that period of time was inconsistent. Maybe there was a failed attempt now and again. Someone that did not fit the profile would vanish, and then their body would return to the respective families. 

Every turn was another shadow, a sad article in the back of a newspaper, filed away in the back office of a dying business. An older townsfolk who “didn’t want to get into all that sadness” when questioned. 

Nancy had a thought that gave her pause. The edges of the papers she flipped through ceased licking at her thumb. 

‘You haven’t gone into the woods yet, have you?’

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I'm a big fan of classic detective media and I thought spinning the themes of her story and giving it an erotic/government conspiracy twist would be fun. Hope you think so too. Prior knowledge of Nancy Drew media is not required.

The idea is a kind 'satire' of previous Nancy Drew works.
A convoluted, and adult mystery where Nancy finds herself under scrutiny for chasing after the ghostly shadows of several missing persons. The town of River Heights wants to forget these people. The Detective doesn't.
This is a critique of people. It explores topics of corruption, the nature of femininity, and common-people who turn a blind eye to evil for the sake of their own comfort.