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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-11 19:07:23 EDT

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@sharkiatwrites.bsky.socialSep 18, 2026, 8:26 AM

#Halfsoul has gained its 30th Backerkit follower! 🎉🎉🎉

Thank you. This #snippet is for you.

“The silence scathed Afya’s ears, edged with cold, a thick blanket, smothering the Land Beyond the Storms. It lived in the cold sand, the mist-gray skies, the line of forest on the horizon. It lived, she discovered, even within her bones. Weary, she picked herself up, discarding seaweed and salt-stained rags along the way. Further from the beach, deep within the silence, a forest loomed, its dark treetops dusted with snow. A lonely bird sang, hidden by needled branches. The silence grew.”
@sharkiatwrites.bsky.socialSep 17, 2026, 11:15 PM

#TBBPrompt

This snippet of #Halfsoul begins a part of the story that gave me lots of trouble. The initial idea was to have the characters come across a village of ghosts. The village is still there, but now they find something that feels more like cosmic horror.

💀📚🩸

A chilly wind rustled the tree. The leaves rasped against each other, like sharp whispers of malicious voices, though the meaning of their words remained beyond Afya’s understanding. Her spine itched. She fought the instinct to bolt into the trees, away from the statue. Instead, she gritted her teeth. “Alright,” she called. “You’ve led me here. What now?” No answer. The woman’s silhouette had disappeared. Worse, Afya realized she no longer remembered which way she’d come from. The world had been swallowed by the mists. Demons indeed. She pushed back into the fog. It was impossible to see anything but the ground in front of her: sparse grass growing under dead leaves. The ground sloped oddly, first up, then gently down again, depositing Afya back at the gnarled tree with the kneeling girl’s statue. Afya crept closer this time, peering at the stone to ensure it was the same statue under the same tree. It hadn’t felt like she was walking in a circle, but with the mists as thick as rice porridge, who could tell? She tried twice more to flee from the odd tree, and twice more she found herself walking back toward it before she gave up. Something had ensnared her. Perhaps the curse the woman had mentioned, or perhaps the woman herself, a demon in disguise.