One Hundred Word Story: Torsten

“Can you use the word in a sentence?”

“Yes. The basilisk cast it’s piercing stare on the adventuring party, instantly petrifying the would-be heroes.”

“May I have the language of origin?”

“Elven.”

“Basilisk. B-A-S-I-L-L-I-S-K. Basilisk.”

“I’m sorry, Torsten, but that is incorrect. The correct spelling is B-A-S-I-L-I-S-K.”

The other children scampered as the massive basilisk materialized from the sudden, green flash of flame and sulfer. Torsten winced and ducked behind his shield, just as the noxious eyes landed on him.

“Stupid, fey spelling bee.”