A Picture Tells 1,000 Words...[WINNERS ANNOUNCED]

[Mini Muffinxman]

...but what I want to see are the 1,000 words (or less) that go with the picture!

This can be narrative or descriptive writing, about anything of your choice, as long as it relates to the image!

-intro- -prompt picture- -rules- -prizes- -entrants- -general information-

[Mini Muffinxman]

-intro- -prompt picture- -rules- -prizes- -entrants- -general information-

[Mini Muffinxman]

Rules of the game:

1. This contest has a strict limit of 1,000 words. You can go over if you like, but I'll only be reading the first 1,000 words. I'll just put in a minimum limit of 250 words to stop people posting things that are too short. And please put a word count on it - it saves me time when it comes to the judging.
2. No flaming others - it doesn't help anyone.
3. Keep to the ToS.
4. Try not to stretch the page. I know I've done it with the image, so please don't quote it at the start of your story, or anywhere else for that matter.
5. Feel free to have a conversation with the other entrants - it does help the contest to flow.
6. Copying is a big no-no. I've caught people at it before, and hope never to catch them at it again.
More to come if it's necessary...

-intro- -prompt picture- -rules- -prizes- -entrants- -general information-

[Mini Muffinxman]

Prizes

1st place - 5,000 gold
2nd place - 3,000 gold
3rd place - 2,000 gold

-intro- -prompt picture- -rules- -prizes- -entrants- -general information-

[Mini Muffinxman]

Entrant List:

Hanhoo - page 1
Violent Tendencies - page 1
Oracle of Delphi - page 2
Poet Of Fire - page 2
warewolfalchemist - page 2
++Jewel Angel++ - page 2
Lucky Puppy - page 2
Starving_Artist - page 3
-Seven-of-Coins- - page 3
The Flying Betta Fish - page 3
ewagon - page 4
Catch The Stars - page 4

-intro- -prompt picture- -rules- -prizes- -entrants- -general information-

[Mini Muffinxman]

General Information:

Deadline - Currently the end of April (UK time), but subject to being put further back.

Questions - Feel free to send me (not too many) PMs about the contest, and I will reply. Alternatively, post it up here.

Entry Fee - There is none!

The Picture - was taken by me, and I have the consent of my brother (it's subject). If anyone wishes to ask about my photography, please keep it to PMs (This is a writing contest, after all)

More to come if necessary!

-intro- -prompt picture- -rules- -prizes- -entrants- -general information-

[Mini Muffinxman]

I now declare this contest to be open for entries!

[The Flying Betta Fish]

Hmmm. Sounds interesting. I might take a shot at it.
Is there an entry fee, or did I miss that?

[Slowly Falling Away]

erm;; i shall be abck..
if it's less than 1000 words..
=D cuz i already have a story (first entred)
perfect for it.. haha reserve me a spott (:

[Starving_Artist]

I'm subscribed, hon.

[Hanhoo]

"Eliza Six". Second Draft.
She looked up to the top of the stairs, through the misty sheen of the white banister. The window above her head let in the blaring light of the forbidden day outside, great reams of it lashing the flimsy net curtains.

Eliza breathed in deeply through her nose, closing her eyes and trying to rely on everything but her hindered sight to guide her to her goal. She could sense the air shifting around her, particles of flighty dust teasing the tense, sweaty skin of her cheeks and forehead. The loosely fitting carpet beneath her feet juddered slightly as her knee began to buckle under the weight of the rest of her body - her right leg was hoisted three stairs above her left, so as to keep her as low but agile as possible - but soon she would have to move.
She raised her hands slightly closer to her face, the black silken gloves feeling slick and light on her hands. She coiled her left index finger around the top of the handgun, and even over the beads of sweat trickling down the nape of her back, she could feel its cold stare eaking its way through to her skin. She cocked it gently, swallowing nervously as if to somehow cover the deafening sound of imposing Death.

Eliza opened her eyes, and with such a resilience that made her conscious of her own pupils dilating, pushed hard with her right leg, and flew as though she were a raven sideways through the air, downwards and horizontally. She pulled the trigger towards her tightly - once, twice, and twice again - and not once did she close her eyes. The time for that was long past. She wanted her mark to see into the depths of her blackened soul before he died. She wanted him to feel the determination as he was wrought from his last breath.

She wanted him to feel her hatred as the iron reaper pierced his heart.
Eliza landed solidly on the edge of a doorway, as the gun roared out. She rolled to a crouching position, not unlike the one she had been in on the stairs a moment before. Eliza stood, and walked with a terrifying composure to what she supposed was the front door. Before it lay a pathetic crumple of a man - sprawling and barely alive.

She walked past him, the crack of her stiletto heels echoing like the spray of a bullet. Her heart momentarily stopped as the bleeding heap snatched out a claw-like hand and grasped her ankle so tightly, her leg buckled sideways. Looking down with a look of utmost contempt and hatred, she pointed the handgun at the man’s head. In the dim light she saw the whites of his eyes dart in terror.

"Hate me." she rasped, as the trigger was pulled for the last time.
Eliza Six wrenched the door open and strutted down the steps to the house with the air of someone surreal. She placed the gun in her tightened waistband, and smoothed her hair back with relief. Not relief that the job was done - with relief that she was sure the man had hated her with every ounce of his being as he died. She was also sure that if there had been any doubt of this fact in her head, she would not be able to walk away from that house with her composure intact. She had to have hated him too. She had to have entered –and left - that place with nothing but hatred for her mark.

For it is always easier to hate incessantly, than to feel anything at all.


Hope it's of some quality. It's not my best work, but it only took me around half an hour. Good picture prompt, by the way. XOXO

PS: Around 600 words.

[LadyXMacbeth]

oo good deal
brb
reserved for awsomeness

[Mini Muffinxman]

The Flying Betta Fish

Hmmm. Sounds interesting. I might take a shot at it.
Is there an entry fee, or did I miss that?

Sorry about that - I run a no entry fee policy with my contests. I'll make adjustments accordingly.


And thanks to people who've already entered / are thinking of entering!

[The Flying Betta Fish]

Mini Muffinxman

The Flying Betta Fish

Hmmm. Sounds interesting. I might take a shot at it.
Is there an entry fee, or did I miss that?

Sorry about that - I run a no entry fee policy with my contests. I'll make adjustments accordingly.


And thanks to people who've already entered / are thinking of entering!

Thats completely alright, just making sure. And in that case I'll be back with an entry sometime soon I hope.

[`Violent Tendencies]

Word Count: 787

Her heart beat thudded in her ears; sweat ran along her spine to pool at the small of her back. The stairs loomed before her, the image faded and blurry twisting to another time, another place, another life.

“Come here…”

She started, her foot still poised to take that first step. Her knuckles were white with the grip she had on the banister, the polished wood holding her steady as her vision swam. Her stomach rolled, she could taste the metallic tang of her fear on her tongue and with a steadying breath she reminded herself that she had come here with a purpose and memories could not hurt her.

She was no longer that little girl.

Pinching the bridge of her nose her foot fell onto the middle of the step, pulling herself up that voice returned and the stairwell seemed to be enclosed in shadow. Goosebumps rose along her arms, the pull of the memory too strong to ignore.

“Here sweetheart...right here…

Realizing she was grinding her teeth together she steeled herself and took the steps two at a time as her conscious screamed at her to turn and run, that she wasn’t ready for this. Quickly staunching that she landed at the top of the stairs and the relief made her dizzy.

See? She was okay. She could do this.

Her hands shook violently, the door already open and light from the open window blinding her. As she opened her eyes she stumbled against the door frame needing an anchor, something to steady herself.

The room was exactly the same. No one had touched it. Nothing had been done.
It even smelled the same.

“you’ve come back to me…like a good girl…you were always such a good girl…”

She knew she was imagining his voice, her mind conjuring up images and playing tricks on her already fragile mental state. The rational part of her brain kept reminding her that she could still turn and leave, come back when she was truly ready.

Her teeth were clenched so hard she swore she heard them creak as she pushed herself away from the door frame. Breathing deeply through her nose she closed her eyes letting the memories assault her vision.

Yes. It would be so much easier if she just gave in. It would all be over in a minute.

Whispers, the patter of rain against the roof and window, the laughter, the shattering of wood, shards embedded into skin, red rimmed eyes, a too large body, pleading, begging, bargaining , innocence lost , toolatetoolatetoolate…

A small cry slipped past her lips as she fell to her knees, her body convulsing. Drying heaving she clutched her stomach curling into a ball in the middle of that wretched room. The whispers had started again, that voice curling around her ears suffocating everything else.

“It’s not my fault…I tried to protect you…! I was only a child, I didn’t know…”

Her voice was hoarse, the words dying on her tongue. It was useless. It was her fault, all of it. If only she hadn’t wanted to come to the house, if only they had read the signs and stayed away. She had run, and left the other behind.

What else could she have done?

In her nine year old mind there was no death, there was no bad men. So she ran, and left the little girl behind. In this room with those monsters as their words rang in her ears. It was her fault innocence had died that night with the fury of a storm.

She had no idea of the time, or how long she had lain there but her purpose was pricking at her again. Pushing off the floor, the carpet scratched at her skin as she pulled her hair away from her face and rummaged through the bag.

It was all too easy from here on out, almost too easy.

A hysterical giggle slipped from her lips.

The smell of sulfur coated the air tasting thick on her tongue as she stood and the match struck home. She stared at the little flame, a small smile playing on her lips as she watched it flicker.

“Come play with me…it has been so long…”

There had been a gas leak in the house, the inhabitants moved to a hotel about a week ago.

She had waited and picked the perfect time.

“I won’t let fear rule my life…”

As she dropped the match her eyes slid shut and the voice stopped.

She sighed once, and her world erupted in a fury of orange, blue, yellow and red. She had ended it in a fury of fire.

In the end, all the sinners have to pay.