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 Posted: Sun Sep 15, 2019 5:26 pm
wahmbulance ANNOUNCEMENT: I have extended the deadline through 11:59pm, Nov. 3rd to give everyone another weekend to work on it! wahmbulance
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Posted: Sun Sep 15, 2019 5:40 pm
Rules 1. 3,ooo word maximum
2. Entries do not necessarily need to be horror! They can be cute, or whatever genre you want-- but do need to have some element of spookiness!
3. Keep entries at a PG-13 level! No excessive gore, etc.- scary is fine, but anything that would earn you an "R" or above rating as a movie is not.
4. I (vespurr) will judge all entries and whichever one I like the best wins. The criteria I will be judging on is as follows:
-Adherence to theme/rules
-Creativity
-Characterization
-Imagery
-Plot / entertainment value (subjective but w/eee lmao make ur own contest if you wanna judge your own)
-Grammar/spelling/ technical blah blah blah.
5. If you want a critique of your story, let me know and I'll provide you feedback! Or, if you want other guild members to, simply post in the thread and ask.
6. No complaining about the results.
7. Prose only; no poems for this contest, please!
8. Original characters only-- no fanfiction. If you want to use someone else's OC, please get their permission first.
9. Post all entries in the thread below!
10. You may post more than 1 entry! Each member may submit up to 3 separate stories.
11. Please write something new for this contest. I'd love to read everyone's past spooky stories, but use this as a challenge to create something new. Obviously I have no way of knowing, but this is an "honor code" thing lol.
12. Entries due by Midnight (11:59 pm), November 3rd, 2019. Prizes 1st Place:
15k Gaia Platinum!
+ 1 spooky ~* mystery *~ item!
2nd Place:
5k Gaia Platinum
+1 spooky ~* mystery *~ item!
3rd Place:
1k Gaia Platinum
+1 spooky ~* mystery *~ item!
**All bonus mystery items worth at least 1k at the time of purchase!**Optional Prompts:  Let's get spooky y'all~ !
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Posted: Sun Sep 15, 2019 5:43 pm
WINNERS
1st place:
The Meadowlark
2nd place:
Weillyn
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Posted: Sun Sep 15, 2019 5:45 pm
The Contest Is Now...... CLOSED
Check out the entries below and stay tuned for our next contest
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Posted: Sun Sep 15, 2019 7:00 pm
☼☼☼ ☼☼☼ ☼☼☼ Here's an excerpt of my story, The Hunted, which I'm rewriting for NaNoWriMo!
heart heart heart
At once, May was totally awake, heart racing, mind blank. She couldn’t wrap her head around why she was awake. Matt was snoring lightly, nothing unusual on his part. The woods were rich with nocturnal animals on the prowl.
Still, none of this should have bothered her. Yet she felt strangely alert.
After a few minutes, she slipped on her sandals and climbed out of the tent. It was still dark out, though murky. Her watch said it was just before five.
May clicked on a nearby flashlight, grabbed a roll of tissue, and strolled out of camp to relieve herself. A narrow path had already been beaten down to it, so the trip wasn’t hard on her wobbly morning legs.
Clutching the flashlight, she squatted carefully and shone it on the ground around her. An owl hooted nearby. Crickets sang.
All at once it went silent. May perked up slightly and guided the light along the underbrush. Nothing. Then the faintest shiver of ferns, a crackling twig. May righted herself and pointed the flashlight into the bush behind her.
The ferns shifted again, and a shadow seemed to bleed out of them. Whatever it was, it was at least as tall as her waist. She adjusted the light, and all at once understood. Glinting eyes fixated on her throat. Fangs as long as her fingers bared, dripping with drool. Bat-like ears tilted back.
It was a huge ******** wolf, and it was between her and camp. May tried to scream, but it died in her throat when the beast snarled.
The next thing she knew she was crashing through the forest. Branches whipped her and tore at her hair. The wolf was right on her heels. Somehow she managed to dodge the worst of the obstructions.
But it was no use. Paws slammed into her shoulders and rode her to the ground. May tried to wail, but she was sliding, dirt filling her mouth. The weight rolled off her back, claws tearing her shoulders. Something crashed.
This time, she did scream. She heard distantly zippers whir and voices of her friends. They would find her.
She staggered to her feet, arms useless at her sides. Blood streamed down her bare forearms. She spit soil and glanced around; her frame trembled.
The wolf was wedged under a felled tree. It pawed at the ground, claws tearing deep ruts in the soft soil. Still, it was gaining ground.
May glanced furtively in a circle. She had no idea where camp was, she could barely think.
The wind carried her voice, barely a whisper. She turned to what she thought was the source and, without hesitation, ran. As a fresh wave of adrenaline burst into her veins, she found movement in her arms once more, if only enough to brush a branch or two aside.
Her name was getting louder. She turned more to the left and shouted back. A chorus of her name returned.
Hope bubbled in her chest. She was close.
The ground, so solid one second, was no where to be found the next. May shrieked, peddling in space, before plummeting into the raging river.
The cold shocked her awake. Her body was buffeted in all directions. Her eyes snapped open, but there was little to see but roiling black waves and the occasional fish. She used their appearances to guide her path to shore.
If not for her lifeguard training, she might’ve given up. Her body knew what to do.
Fire burned in her chest. Stars bloomed in the corners of her vision. ‘Please,’ she thought, clinging desperately to the rapidly fading adrenaline.
Her hand broke water first. Stones appeared underneath her, and sloped sharply up. Kicking with all her strength, May reached for the surface again.
Hand over hand, she dragged herself up the bank. Her neck and shoulders were on fire. The sharp wind felt like it was burning her flesh.
She was so tired. Dimly, she thought of her friends, searching for her. The image of Charlotte’s bedazzled scrunchy filled her mind, and then everything went dark.
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Posted: Sun Oct 27, 2019 10:24 am
Atticus set his rifle down in the tall grass and sat by his brother, who was cleaning the separated parts of his own weapon. A thin, home-rolled cigarette hung from each of their mouths. As Atticus peered up at the stars overhead, he drew his cigarette away and sighed a cloud into the night.
“You s’pose Darlene’s cookin’ his supper right about now?” he mused. “Meat-n-taters with all the fixin’s, fresh milk from the new cow he bought her?”
“She ain’t none of your concern now, Atty. She chose her side. Turn it loose, y’hear?” Bartholomew’s quick brown eyes fixed his younger brother, and he snatched his own cigarette between his fingers to huff the smoke out in one hard breath. “The Morrises is just across that river yonder, watching and waiting. And that gun ain’t no seed, boy; get it out of the dirt!”
Atticus nodded and held his rifle across his chest. “Sorry, Bart.”
They sat in quiet for a while, crickets and frogs filling in the conversation. Atticus stared at the small campfire, wondering if maybe they ought not to have lit it, even to clean a gun by. A bad feeling was creeping up in the younger Garland brother’s belly, and he didn’t much care for it. No sir, he did not.
Somewhere, a twig snapped.
“Bart?” he spoke softly, sitting up a little straighter as his suddenly alert eyes scanned the brush. “You reckon we shouldn’a lit--?”
The shot rang out in the night, sending birds chattering and flapping toward the sky.
Bartholomew called out his little brother’s name as he dove toward him. The fully assembled gun barely crossed his mind in that moment. There was a hole in his little brother and Mama couldn’t patch it like she did their winter quilts. The bullet had already bit clean through and no stitching in the world could help.
Blood soaked into the soil the same as Bartholomew’s tears soaked into Atty’s shirt, and the fire kept going like it had no shame.
“Holy s**t,” a young man’s voice behind him said. “Chris! Chris! You were ******** right, holy s**t! He’s real!”
The elder Garland brother didn’t make sense of the words, but then, the world without Atty didn’t make sense. Now Bartholomew thought of the gun, of revenge. He wiped his eyes and pried it from his baby brother’s hands.
“Y’all Morris bastards go to hell!” he rasped, rounding on the source of the voice with his rifle cocked and aimed, but he saw no one there. Mouth tight and wobbling, he sniffed and gripped the barrel tighter, letting his tears streak from his face. “Come out and fight like a man, y’all spineless sonsabitches! I’ll kill you for what you’ve done!”
“s**t, dude, he’s mad! Bail! Bail!”
A voice farther off answered. “We just got here, Tyler!”
“He said the words!” Tyler shouted back as he sprinted toward the headlights. “He has the gun! s**t! s**t! s**t! He’s gonna kill us! s**t!”
Chris stopped his brother with an arm across the chest as he tried to scramble back into the truck, and pushed him into its rusty red side.
“Hey, relax. Look. It’s like I said. Bart Garland swore revenge for his brother and never got it; he was shot just after him. So his ghost keeps reliving his last moments, trying to change that.”
“Come on out, Jim Morris! Robert! Clyde!” The echoing voice grew closer.
“Well he’s gonna change it if we don’t go! Now!” Tyler shrieked under his breath.
“No,” Chris said calmly, quietly. He pushed his glasses up and leaned back against the truck beside him. “He should reset any second now.”
“He what?” Tyler asked, inching closer to his brother and following his pensive gaze to a large tree.
With a mix of pity and reverence in his dark eyes, Chris spoke quietly. “That tree’s where Clyde Morris was hiding. And just to the left….”
The apparition of Bartholomew Garland rounded the tree with his gun, as if on cue. In the single second he was visible, the two Morris brothers could see the fresh pain as well as the determination in his eyes. And in that moment, with a look of horror, he seemed to see them, too. In a swift curl of thin smoke, he vanished.
“So,” Tyler said. “Clyde ended the feud.”
Chris folded his arms. “Only fair. He did start it.”
Atticus walked back up the bank after staring across the river for hours. His arms were tired and his smoke was burning out. He put his rifle down and sat by his brother with one last, long drag as he looked at the stars.
“You s’pose Darlene’s cookin’ his supper right about now?”
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The Meadowlark Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Nov 22, 2019 5:55 pm
WINNERS ANNOUNCEMENT:
Sorry this took so long to grade, guys! Real life came up!
Without further ado, the contest winners are:
1st place:
The Meadowlark
2nd place:
Weillyn
Congratulations both of you and thanks for your entries! I really enjoyed both of them -w- check your trades for your prizes! heart
And keep an eye out for the next contest which will be coming soon~
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Posted: Sat Nov 23, 2019 8:07 am
☼☼☼ ☼☼☼ ☼☼☼ Yay, thank you! This was fun 3nodding
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