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 Posted: Tue Oct 08, 2013 8:45 pm
I think it's time for another Writing Contest, who's with me??!!
Contest is:
Halloween is almost here! Everyone loves getting the socks scared off their feet, even if its a secret. Your test, is to write a scary short story. The story must be 100% fictitious. Use real stories and movies as inspiration. It can take place anywhere, anytime, any location. Spain, mid 1900, in a warehouse. Or Japan, 3098, old school. Use your imagination and go wild.
Contest has officially begin and will end midnight October 31st. Any entries after midnight October 31st will be disqualified.
Prizes will be handed out no later than November 20.
First Prize: 500k -Night Kunoichi
Second Prize: 300k - Intrinsified
Third Prize:100k - II D E A T H ll
13 Mockingjay Won 100k for Most Creative Twist and Best story to incorporate Humor!
Extra Prizes: For those who do not win First, Second, or Third.
Best Story to incorporate Humor: 50k
Best Romatic Scene: 30k
Scariest Scene: 30k
Funniest Scene: 30k
Most Creative Twist (do not use "Then __ woke up.") 50k
Best Dialogue Flow: 20k
Best Descriptive Scene: 50k
Best Description of a Character: 30k
Good luck!
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Posted: Sun Oct 13, 2013 7:44 pm
The girl lay in the street, motionless. She was most certainly alive, but not moving. A car came speeding around the corner, almost completely unaware of her existence. He quickly approached the intersection where the girl was, and slammed on his breaks at the stop sign. There, in the headlights of his oversized SUV, he saw her. The man stuck his head out the window. “What are you doing, girl?” He hollered angrily at the being he wasn’t sure was really there. The girl turned her head and looked straight in the man’s eyes. “I’m protesting.” The man scratched his balding head in thought. “Protesting what? High gas prices? The war? The government?” The girl smiled, not breaking eye contact with the man. “No sir, just protesting.” At this point, the man opened his car door, and hopped out of his SUV. He walked over to where the girl was laying, and looked at her more closely. She couldn’t be a day over nineteen, and was very thin. She had long brown hair, and a white t-shirt with “STOP” spray painted across it in big letters. “So you’re just here for the Hell of it then, are you?” The girl furrowed her brow and spoke. “I told you, I’m protesting! Why not join me? Together we can change the world.” The man laughed loudly, mocking the very thought of him lying down on the ground with the girl in the middle of the intersection. “Do your parents know that you’re here?” The girl thought for a moment. “It won’t matter when I’ve changed the world, now will it?” The man looked puzzled. “All I need is your help, sir. Together we can change the world.” The gears in the man’s head began to turn. One could almost see the smoke pouring out of his ears. It was quite a sight indeed. After a few minutes of thought, the man made his decision. He took off his coat, threw it on the lawn of a house adjacent to the intersection, and laid down in the intersection alongside the now beaming young woman. “How long do we do this for?” The man asked. “Until you begin to see change, sir. Until we have changed the world.” Minutes turned to hours. As relaxed as he was laying unmoving in the street, he fell fast asleep, car running and all. He woke up the next morning, earlier than the girl. “Time to get up and leave while the girl is asleep.” The man thought to himself. He attempted to get up, but quickly found his legs and arms unable to move. It was as if he were being held down by some force, like gravity had intensified in specific spots over the course of the night. He began struggling and screaming, which awoke the girl. “Ah, so you are still here I see!” A smile grew over her face. “Don’t you see? Once you begin protesting, you can never stop!”
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High-functioning Recalibrator
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Posted: Wed Oct 16, 2013 8:08 am
The Antique
((PIANO)) It was a cold foggy day. a family went over a Music store to buy a Piano for the sake of their child who longs to have a piano for hands on, probably due to their old "Verdegrandeur" piano, broken, they decided to bring it over the junk shop and buy a new one. At the shop, the family strolls throughout its wide vicinity, the boy, cautiously looks something that the eye of his meets fancy enough.At last, long wait ended when something grand opened up to the boy's eyes: Father, I wanted that piano~The boy said: pointing to the antique piano of Mahogany finish of black solid paint on its keys.By looking at it, the piano seems to be 'musicworthy' of any pianist who seeks joy in creating fine tune. The price seemed to be more than a bargain: Who could've thought a good-looking piano would be sold at 500 dollars? The family, now set the deal. As soon as possible, the piano was placed at the center of the family's manor after the transactions and delivery. The young man, started playing some of the Beethoven's and Mozart's pieces, seemed to have joy in his hands: He seems to enjoy this fine piano we had for bargain...The mother said, softly giggling after hearing her son play the Classicals for the first time. The horrors started: after a week, the young man had gone sick, in the bed he lies... His parents were quite a fuss on what to do, on the latter part, they began hearing the "Moonlight Sonata": Wondering who played this piece so beautiful, they immediately ran inside their manor.To their surprise, no one was on the piano, nor the music stopped. After a few minutes, they had gone back, thinking what to do. Again, the piano started playing: But more different, very terrifying: The famous "Fur Elise" started to play on the antique piano, but in G's which was nor beautiful or very full of meaning, instead, the whole manor began to be shroud in macabre. The parents peeked, saw the piano, playing on its own, no pianist striking its keys.To their horror, they tried to dismantle the piano, but then after a day, it will return, in shape. The same happenings continued.After the boy recovered, everything was back to normal.Except for one thing... The piano, becomes worse, the sounds of the piano were like screeching of loud low tunes of slow tempo.Which totally, gave panic to the whole family. After a week, the family managed to bring it back to the music shop, then asked where this mysterious piano came from.According to the salesman: I just found it on a junk shop, the junk shop owner said: the piano was once on courtesy of the late pianist: Addaux Vonn Schwarweiss .The piano itself was, pretty sounding well and looked fine so i took it~ and sold it at bargain price. In addition, the owner (of the Junk Shop) said: Schwarweiss was shot on the head while performing freely in his manor last week, the butlers and maids said, the last thing they heard was booming G's of the pieces: Moonlight sonata and Fur Elise.They thought that the one who were playing was their master.But, it was a heist.The family soon, returned the piano. Later, after a long trip from the music shop, they were surprised to see the antique piano again, on the center of the main hall of their manor.... In a state of shock, all they did was: to wreck the piano... But the day after: They found it Neither wrecked nor had a scratch.... =||= End =||=
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Posted: Wed Oct 16, 2013 6:41 pm
Family Matters "Claudia! Claudia!" I was in such a deep sleep that I barely noticed my sister's screaming. "Claudia! CLAU--!!" Suddenly, the screams were cut off. I opened my eyes to see my sister standing next to my bed. She looked unharmed, but seemed to be choking on something.
"Celia, you alright?" She was still choking. I reached out to grab her arm, but in a quick jerk, she was pulled to the other side of the room. Her head hit the wall hard, and she collapsed to the floor. "Oh, my God! Cee!" I jumped out of bed and ran to her. Blood was visibly dripping from the back of her head.
"Wake up! Don't die. Celia, please!" I went to hold her head, and she was pulled from my grasp into the air. She was pulled up and down like a puppet, moving left and right through the stale air. She was then pulled out of the room.
I refused to let her out of my sight. I was lead into my brother's room. I stopped in the doorway. My brother, sound asleep, bolted upright and got out of bed. He walked with stiff motion towards me, his eyes a shining orange. I screamed. They both continued moving toward me. I turned and ran down the stairs to my parents' room, only they weren't in there. "Mom! Dad! Somebody, help!"
I dashed to the kitchen where I found my father not suspiciously pouring a glass of tea. I practically tripped trying to get to him. "Dad, I think Celia and Kalen are possessed." He turned to me, mug in hand. I didn't notice it at first, but his wrist was turned completely around holding the mug. "What the hell happened to your wrist?!" His wrist then turned the right way, pouring out the tea in the mug. It landed in a puddle on the floor, but it didn't stop there. It burned a hole through the floor like acid.
I stepped back and made my way to the family room both relieved and terrified to see my mom sitting on the couch reading a magazine. "Mom?" I said, slowly approaching her.
"Yes, sweetheart?" she replied.
I scanned her up and down. No blood, normal colored eyes, no messed up joints. Everything seemed normal on her. "Mom, I think our family is possessed."
"I told them not to, but they did it anyway..." She said.
I thought she was speaking rubbish. "Told who not to do what?"
"They wanted to be possessed this Halloween. I told your father it was a bad idea." She didn't look up from her magazine.
"What the hell, mom?! Tell me what's going on! How can someone choose to be possessed?" I demanded. My father entered the room followed by my floating sister and demonic brother.
They wandered around the room awhile, then began approaching me again. My mother stood on the couch and hissed, wings appearing on her back and skin turning red. I freaked out, ready to run out the door. But my brother started having a laughing fit, and my father pulled out a pair of scissors. I thought they were going to kill me.
I was wrong. My dad cut the air above my sister's floating body, and she fell to the ground, landing on her feet. She almost fell over laughing, also. "You guys are jerks! Why did you do that to me? I almost had a heart-attack!" I slowed myself down. "Y'all are lucky I didn't kill you out of fright." I said, pointing at all of them.
My mom came over and hugged me. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, it was just too easy."
"Promise you'll never do it again?"
"We promise." They replied in unison.
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Posted: Wed Oct 30, 2013 8:01 pm
Terror does not always dwell in the darkness of night. Sometimes the most terrifying things can lurk with in the brightness of the sun but no heat from its rays can reach its icy core to warm it. It was not Halloween night or any other day that was told to have horrid things happen on it. No, this was a normal day in the middle of November in which the cold fingers of Jack frost had stolen away the warmth of the once balmy wind of Summer and Autumn before the brutal Winter that had swept over the land.
Travis pulled his coat tighter around his shivering frame as the icy wind beat relentlessly at his skin. How long had he been traveling? With one small bag with the bare essentials slung over his shoulder, an unshaven face and a small amount of money for food and a warm place to stay in his pocket, it seemed like it had been an age. Now he was here in a tiny little town that he did not know the name of yet somehow, it seemed alright.
The people of the town watched him with suspicious eyes as he looked through the streets for a hotel to stay in. Travis paid them no mind and opened the door into a slightly warmer lodging establishment with a roaring fire. The lady behind the counter was haggard and looked surprised to see him come through the door, as if she had never seen a customer in here in her entire life. On the counter lay a newspaper with the current year printed at the top.
“What brings you to these parts, Mister?” she asked him warily, lighting up a pipe for herself, the potent smell of burning tobacco wafting out in the form of smoke.
“I need a room.” Travis told her, pointedly ignoring her question about why he was here.
“We don’t room strangers here, Mister. Not without knowing what they are doing in our little town.”
Travis scowled impatiently, “I’m a wandering artist. I don’t have one specific home and I travel to find my inspiration.” He held up his bag that held his canvases, paints and brushes as proof.
The woman sniffed, “Sounds like you wouldn’t have no money to pay me then.”
“If I had no money, I wouldn’t have bothered coming in. How much?”
When the teller cited to him the price, a price he was certain she had deliberately inflated just for him, he gaped at her. It was more than double what he had.
“Are you insane? This run down place is not worth that much!”
She grinned, showing her broken, missing, yellow teeth, “Sounds to me you can’t afford it. Go on, git! No beggars here!”
In a manner that seemed jovial, she hopped to her feet and rushed him out the door and back into the freezing cold. Travis felt the heat of anger bubble beneath his skin. She was utterly unreasonable! It looked like it would be yet another night for him sleeping in the cold. He huffed and set out in search for a place he could enjoy a hot meal. At least something should warm him on this freezing day.
In his search for food, he saw a massive, abandoned house in the distance, set about two to three miles away from the town, worn and decayed. The house just seemed…sad.
As he filled his belly with hot food, bland, but still pleasant to consume, he asked questions and learned that the mansion was abandoned and had been since the lady of the estate had been found dead with no explanation as to why she passed many years ago. Now no one approached the house though he could not get anyone to tell him why.
But Travis had made up his mind. With no place to sleep tonight, he would take shelter there. At least there would be a roof over his head and he may be able to stave off the cold. He walked sluggishly towards the house, still munching on some bread when a bony child stopped in his path. She was a beautiful little girl who would grow into a devastating beauty that would break the hearts of people who saw her, with wide bright blue eyes and maple brown hair. She was a bit dirty but that was not at all unusual for a young girl her age.
“Mister, you’re not going to the spooky house are you?”
Travis smiled down at her, “I am, sweet girl.”
“Don’t go!” she begged him with a quiet voice, “You won’t come back.”
“Of course I will, child. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“No! No you won’t!” she shook her head vigorously, “That house…it’s….”
Travis furrowed his brows and knelt down before her, waiting for the young girl to finish her sentence. He expected her to whisper something along the lines of it was haunted or that it held monsters that would gobble him up but that was not what came next.
“Evil.” She finished in a low whisper, as if scared that the house would hear the words she spoke.
He did not believe her, how could he? But he did believe that her overactive imagination was scaring her and he did not like to see that. So he held out the other roll he had yet to eat for the young girl looked hungry. She accepted it with wide eyes and he ruffled her hair.
“Do not worry. No monsters and there can defeat me! I am a strong man. I’ll come out, child. I promise.”
She did nothing but stared at him as he stood and continued on his way towards the abandoned house when he faintly heard her speak.
“That’s what the last man said…”
When he turned back she was running off towards the town, leaving him to his thoughts. What could bring a child to say such things about an abandoned house? There must have been an accident there with the last person who went to visit. Travis dismissed it and soon he found himself opening the creaky old door to the entry way. The house certainly had not been lived in for quite some time. Thick webs covered the tarnished chandelier, littered with fat spiders waiting for their next meal to stumble into their trap.
The paint was peeling from the wood and the staircase, once grand, was now in a state of disrepair. Floorboards were loose and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust that caused him to sneeze repeatedly. But it was a roof over his head and it was a little bit warmer inside than it was outside and also did not have the wind to chill him even further.
Travis quickly found the living room, equally dusty as the entryway but still furnished, oddly enough. As he walked into the room, he noticed a large mirror hanging on the wall above the couch, completely coated in dust. He paid it no mind and set to cleaning off the couch so it would not be too filthy when he was ready to sleep on it. When he straightened, he jerked in shock.
There was a drag mark across the mirror, disrupting the dust, as if someone had set their hand upon the glass and dragged it in a diagonal motion downwards. He most certainly did not touch the mirror so why would it have that mark upon it. A bit disturbed, Travis looked around the room in search for the culprit but could see no one.
“Hello?” He called.
Silence.
“Hello?” Travis repeated more loudly.
Nothing.
So he dismissed it and went to explore the rest of the house. When he arrived upstairs, there was a long, stretching hallway filled with portraits, floor to ceiling. Some of the people in the pictures were women, some were men, others were children and all of them were of varying ages. Travis felt mildly disturbed by the sheer amount of painted eyes staring out at him but he pushed on through.
The first room he came across was an expansive, yet dirty, library. It was almost a religious experience for him for in the ceiling was a rounded window that allowed the sunlight to pour in and pool on the dirty marble floor. Travis loved books and he wanted to stay here and read everyone of them. Maybe one day he could come back and do so. As he flitted through the shelves, searching for one to read before he slept that night, he heard the house sigh.
But this was not any normal hush of wind through the panels or the doors. No this sounded as if the house was a living thing, watching him. He froze and looked around, feeling the skin on his neck prickle in paranoia. When he could find or see nothing he turned back to the shelves, feeling a bit chilled. Perhaps the child was right in saying something was off with the house.
“Traaaaaaaviiiiiiissss.”
The whisper was breathy, soft and barely audible but he heard it. He turned around wildly but saw nothing again. He was shivering now, feeling almost unbearably cold and quickly fled the room. He was just going to sleep out in the cold. When he came to the hallway, he froze, eyes wide, his breath trapped inside his lungs. The portraits, every one of their eyes had turned and they were staring at him. He didn’t want to move for fear that somehow their creepy eyes would follow him or worse, long bony fingers would reach out through the portrait and try to snatch him up.
He heard a slam in one of the nearby rooms and that was all the motivation he needed. Travis began to walk quickly down the hall. To his horror, the eyes of the painted faces followed him and as he reached the middle, their mouths opened and laughter tore out from each one of them. It was twisted, gaunt and horrifying and it set Travis into a fully blown sprint, dashing for the door. He didn’t care about his stuff so long as he was out of this house.
He tripped and stumbled until at last his momentum sent him crashing into the door. Adrenaline flooded the river of his blood and his fingers fumbled with the doorknob. He twisted and pulled. It would not budge. He tried again, panic crawling it’s way up his throat. The door still did not move. Frantic eyes searched until he saw that, somehow, the wood of the door had fused with the wood of the frame making it impossible to open it anymore.
Trapped.
He had believed he had truly experienced that feeling whenever he lived in one place but he discovered that until now, he never even knew it’s meaning. It was more than being unable to leave. It was a distinct tide of fear, helplessness and raw panic. Travis refused to accept it. He tried every window of the house only to find that they also were unable to be opened.
“LET ME OUT!” He screeched, not entirely sure who he was shouting at.
The laughter upstairs from the portraits fell quiet. The wind, which had been howling outside, also stilled and every creak that came from the house silenced. This lack of noise was far more disturbing to him that the demonic laughter that had come from the hall of painted faces. It felt as if the whole world was holding it’s breath for fear of what was inside of this house or of the house itself. He felt himself shaking.
For several minutes he did not move, was too afraid to. When he took his first step, he flinched at how unbelievably loud it was, echoing endlessly through the empty halls. Travis crept quietly back to the living room and picked up an old, rusty fire poker and his things, hanging them on his shoulder. He would not be kept here. When he quietly slipped back into the entryway-ever so slowly and quietly for fear of what could be stalking him in this very house-he reared back his arm and slammed the metal against the window.
As he expected, it spiderwebbed out in a maze of cracks, a crater in the center. He pulled his hand back again but saw the cracks seal back up, crawling back towards the collision point until there was nothing but unblemished glass. His eyes were wide, his breathing shallow, heart beat rapid. Disbelief coursed through him before it was replaced with a desperate fear, seasoned with the will to escape. He swung again, even harder. It yielded another crack but it too sealed up.
A cry of rage and terror escaped him before he repeatedly struck the window with the fire poker but no matter how much he hit the glass, it repaired itself before he could break free.
He was truly trapped.
Upstairs the portraits erupted into laughter again and he began to run through the house, searching for something, anything that could help him escape. He could find nothing. Travis came to a stop in the aged kitchen, breathing hard and all of the pots and pans hanging innocently on a rack over head. Then they began to rattle, joining in on the demented chorus of the pictures upstairs. The drawers all flew open and knives all floated up into the air, their sharpened tips slowly turning to face him.
Travis did not recall fleeing the room but he knew that he had when the door slammed behind him and a cacophony of thuds echoed in the air. The walls on either sides of him morphed and took the shape of hands reaching for him. He screamed and fled back to the living room where he was met with a twisted monster in the mirror.
It was tall, bony and clad in a grey, drying skin, so dry it looked as if it had been stripped from a corpse and wrapped around the bones and muscle of this creature. It’s joints were twisted as if they had been ruined by a brutally strong hand. Or perhaps they were never functional to begin with. Yet this thing was still standing on its legs though it’s knees looked as if they never would have been able to hold up it’s weight.
The lips were thin and shrunken, pulled up to reveal a set of razor sharp teeth that seemed to be crafted for tearing flesh. There were no ears, only holes in the sides of the highly domed head and the nose was decayed. Nor were there eyes, instead there was hollow sockets, pooled with blood that ran in rivulets down the face. There was hair but it was frazzled, jet black and wild.
“Traaaaaaviiiiiissss.”
The man in question could not speak, could only watch in horror as pale, white skin crawled over this monster’s frame, the hair smoothed into a raven waterfall of satin, the nails, once broken and cracked fused to form a whole, perfect surface. And the lips grew out to be plump, the sockets stopped bleeding and filled until beautiful blue eyes were looking back at him. Her limbs straightened, her figure filled until at last a beautiful, curvaceous woman was staring back at him but behind those blue eyes-eyes that should have looked sweet-was a deep evil that struck him to the core.
And somehow. Somehow he knew the name of this woman. Allison. He had never seen her before in his life and yet, he knew it as if he had. She smiled a close lipped smile and beckoned him closer. As if in a trance, he slowly advanced forward, eyes wide and she laughed at him. Her hands rested against the glass on the inside and suddenly, he snapped out of it, jerking himself back in horror. Madness took over her eyes and he wondered if she was part of the house, or if she had merely been trapped here and went insane.
“The red beast hunts. The red beast stalks. And within this house true evil walks.” She grinned and her eyes began to bleed again, running into her mouth and over her still sharp teeth, “You cannot run. You cannot hide. On this eve your soul is mine.”
Travis took a step back. She drew her face forward, the flesh and skin falling from her frame.
“The house will drive inside your mind. No exit or escape you’ll find. And when the sun sinks below the ground again, no longer will you possess your skin. Your eyes and ears will be stolen. Your nails chipped, cracked and broken. Today you shall breathe your last, your role has been forever cast. And when the sun comes on early morn, you cannot say you were not warned.”
“That house is….evil.”
She had warned him hadn’t she? That little girl outside. Had she been a real child or had she been merely another victim from the horrid place? Travis did not linger to think on this, he began running, dashing through the house as the windows and walls rattled with a deep, menacing laughter he had yet to hear. The rug suddenly sprung to life, twisting and morphing until it became like liquid beneath his feet and he was sinking down to his waist.
Travis screamed, thrashing, feeling agony rip through him as his skin was being torn away until he sank beneath the floor. The house grew still and nothing was left of the wandering artist except for the eye glasses he had to wear, lying innocently on the carpet as red as blood in the pooling sunlight from the windows.
((Hope it was ok.. :/ Honestly that rhyme was the hardest part for me out of the entire short story! But I'm quite happy with it in the end! I also slightly connected the last story I wrote for this contest last year. :3 If nothing else, I hope you guys enjoyed it! ))
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