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#Post#: 3670--------------------------------------------------
Writing Contest
DIR By: Xephim
Date: January 1, 2016, 2:24 pm
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Since the Seven Deadly Sin building contest never came about and
it'll be extremely unlikely for me to return to the server to
judge anything, I'll be holding a short story contest.
In the spirit of the season, the theme will be Greed. The
stories will be judged on overall quality, including spelling,
punctuation, and grammar. While those are important, the
overall story must be a good read. Your writing can be
impeccable, but if the story itself is lacking, then you will
not win. On the flip side, you may have the best story ever
written, but if it is rife with mistakes, then you will lose.
Entries are due on 1/31. A winner will be announced 2/7.
There must be at least three entries for anyone to win. The one
who does win will be awarded several game bundles.
#Post#: 3671--------------------------------------------------
Re: Writing Contest
DIR By: Nalah
Date: January 1, 2016, 2:30 pm
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Please post entries as a reply to this topic, not as a brand new
topic!
Good luck! :)
#Post#: 3676--------------------------------------------------
Re: Writing Contest
DIR By: The Real Cadia
Date: January 1, 2016, 4:33 pm
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Boredom, the promise of games and...boredom again have led me to
do this, so why not try?
It was not my fault.
I have a loving family, with my wife, Sarah, and our two
beautiful children, whom im currently afraid to name. This all
started at the beginning of December. For some, one of the most
magical times of the year, yet to us, this was a time of stress,
as everyone wanted and expected something. I usually did what
most fathers would do, and that is to try to appease my
children, but with the coming of new technologies and this
seeming transition between children wanting toys to needing
electronic devices, with the most ludicrous prices, each item
seemingly competing with the other to obtain the largest number,
and drain the most cash out of our pockets and wallets, it has
been more and more of a task to obtain these items for those
that i "loved".
This year was no different. I attempted to be smart, and start
saving up money from the very beginning of the year for this
moment, however I have lost a large amount of that sum on liquor
and food, so I somehow had to comprise. I entered the living
room, expecting to be greeted by two cheerful children but
instead getting a cold "Hi, Dad." from both of them as they
slightly lifted their heads from the glowing devices in their
hands.. They sounded like their very souls have been sucked into
their devices which they were ever so fond and defending of.
Ignoring their quite obvious disinterest, i attempted to sit
them down together, and talk to them.
"I'm sorry kids, but I hope you understand. We love you very
much, but money is very tight, so if you want even one of the
things on your list, you two should compromise, so you can both
get one machine that you will enjoy. How does that sound?"
As i expected, they were nothing short of disappointed, maybe a
little shocked aswell. I thought that they would finally stop
staring at their screens, and actually engage with each other,
which they haven't done in a very long while.What i didn't
expect, was that both of them would somehow offer me long lists
of why I should buy a device from their personal favourite
companies, describing the quick customer service, and other such
reasons that no child should be interested in for a present
under the Christmas Tree.
what they didn't include in those lists, was how devoted they
were to these greedy companies who take every person they can
reach and turn them into a human with no other purpose than to
buy their products.Not until now, have I realized how far they
would go just to get entertainment that they wanted, not caring
about anyone else.If only i had known, then i would have hired a
therapist with the money I saved up for.
on the the 12th of December, i woke up to a rustling coming from
the living room. Fearing the worst, I grabbed a large umbrella
from next to my bedroom door, and carefully made my way to the
living room, activating the lights as i went by.what i saw,
was...unexpected.
My eldest the girl, was rustling with the lock of the front
door, attempting to get in with the keys. once she managed it
and entered, i saw why she was out.
In one hand, she carried a duffel bag, with..something in there,
that smelt horrible, and in the other hand, a large, cardboard
box which i immediately assumed was stolen.
I was preparing to roar all known profanities at this brat,
however what she did next stopped me.
Out of the duffel bag, she took out a large kitchen knife,
covered in a thick, crimson liquid and threw it towards me.
I had no time to react. it impaled me just below my left
lung,throwing me off guard and tumbling to the ground. I swiftly
passed out.
when I awoke, i was in a hospital bed, not badly injured,
however i was to remain here for a while. as I lay there, a
police officer came up to me, and explained the situation.
apparently, after i passed out, she attempted to plug in the
device she had acquired to the TV, however with her having no
knowledge of how to do this, she started throwing a fit, causing
my neighbours to wake up and try to knock on our door to see
what's happening. when no one answered, they peered through the
window and saw a small girl completely destroying the living
room in a rage with what seemed to be body parts in a duffel bag
next to her.They immediately called 999.
apparently after the police took her in, it was discovered that
she had a major case of sociopathy, and was put into an asylum.
their reports show only that she wants her phone back, or else.
well. now im back home, and im writing this up. however, there's
one problem. throughout my life, not until we started supplying
our children with technology did they to act this way. how
greedy.
speaking of children, where is my boy?
(i know this is terrible, but its 10pm and im tired. sooo take
it as you will.)
#Post#: 3678--------------------------------------------------
Re: Writing Contest
DIR By: Super Saiyan God
Date: January 2, 2016, 7:40 am
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[center]Necrosis[/center]
I should tell you about it. Maybe you know it already—the rise
of the number of suicides, the homicides, the murders. The crazy
people. And then those shambling things that came afterwards.
I was there when we discovered the spores that started this
whole mess.
In the 1980s, an independent group of Scientists—myself
included, embarked on an expedition to Africa to search for a
notorious, maddening substance only known to locals as waansin.
Apparently, this substance was spread through beautiful blomme
flowers, which were found around the area.
When inhaled, the waansin spores cause madness and/or dementia
in the natives. The effects vary, though most of the time; they
turn mad and seek a desire to murder others. I saw them stab
themselves with spears and sticks and such, bashing foreheads as
they went. They inflicted wounds into themselves. Some injuries
were enough to kill them, naturally, but they still kept on
moving.
We studied a victim in a lab west of Kijuju, sealing him in a
plate-glass sealed room with one way mirrors. We left him
adequate food and water and sealed him inside. From him we
learned of the necrosis that was happening to his skin.
First, the skin pales—in this case, the native turned his
otherwise dark skin into a dry, cracked gray. Blotches start to
form, then sores. Through weeks of isolation, we saw the skin
turn into a gray, cracked husk into greenish sore, blabbering on
in Afrikaans.
Days later, the man self-terminated.
As he was being prepared for burial, we noticed that the corpse
was twitching rapidly. It was too strange to be called Necrotic
Twitching, it was as if the corpse still wanted to move. After a
rapid succession of twitching, the corpse simply hung limp.
We attempted another experiment. Apparently, that led me to my
second discovery. The spores induce mutations in the body if
tissue damage was severe. Apparently the spores induced cellular
reproduction within the bloodstream, creating
cell-after-cell-after-cell. We knew something was wrong.
A heavily wounded man exhibiting the symptoms of the blomme
spores started to grow an inhuman amount of muscle and tissue
around the injured parts of his body. We sedated him and placed
him in an isolation room for study. The results were
astonishing.
The waansin spores regenerated parts of the wounded man’s body
with a red mass that gave a red pigmentation on the person’s
skin.
The infected showed signs of an intense wendigo psychosis—an
insatiable desire to feed on a human’s flesh. As the days passed
by, I started to get weary and tired. I was also frightened.
The other scientists were getting weary, too. When the screaming
started, we were on to our knees.
The man screamed his ears out.
The screaming went on for days, until we woke up, heard nothing,
and saw a bullet hole in his chest. The reddish man lay there. I
asked Peters, our hunter, if he had done the euthanasia. “No.”
he said. “Angel grabbed my gun when I was sleeping.”
We saw Angel, the researcher, curled to a fetal position in a
corner of the lab, gun in hand.
She was sobbing and whispering. When we examined her for cuts
and bruises, we saw a bite mark embedded in her arm.
“Itbitme.Itbitme.Ican’tbelieveitbitme.” she whispered. “I wanted
to take a blood sample from him and he bit me. So I shot him. I
shot shot shot him. Through the chest. That sick bastard. That
sick sick bastard.”
We had taken every precaution not to get infected with the
waansin agent, to the point of sterilization. Angel was
obviously harboring the Stage One symptoms of the waansin
complex. As we came closer to restrain her, she knew of our
intent, and simply shot herself in the chest.
Not in the forehead, where the brain will forever slumber, but
the chest.
After that incident, we decided to get the hell out of there.
We gave them proper burials, and left Africa. Due to my
colleague’s Native American ancestry, we decided to name the
condition as the Wendigo Complex.
But the thing was, the case was far, far from over. There was a
final symptom discovered, and out of the four, this was the
worst.
The Necrotic Twitching I spoke of before? It gets worse.
***
A waansin—afflicted man was witnessed killing himself. As the
coroner prepared his tools for the autopsy, he found the man
shambling towards the door, ribcage exposed. The man,
gray-skinned and pupil-less, let out a long moan before falling
to the floor, viscera spread all around.
We were frightened with the news of the reanimated corpse.
Frightened beyond comparison, to say the least.
But, I suppose, it was already too late for us.
Spreading the agent would only have one way: through inhalation
of spores. But with the outbreaks of Ebola near Blomme—infested
areas, the spores…adapted— assimilated the characteristics of
the virus, turning it into a deadly, agile weapon. The agent
could now spread through the blood. As such, the occurrences of
the infected were spreading, but the virus didn’t spread enough
to gain people’s attention, until two months later.
Bizarre murders occurred around the region. People were
apparently eaten. Sightings prevailed of groups of people eating
other groups of people. It was mad. Insane.
To the few who knew about the Wendigo Complex, this was a
depressing thought. Through the months until the revelation of
the Massive Wendigo Outbreak, I’ve lost almost all my
colleagues. They died by their own hands, guilty of the monsters
they have become.
The first official sightings of the now-named Wendigo Men were
in a small Floridian island, Casey Key, but by that time, the
Virus was already spreading across the Americas, Europe, Asia,
Africa through birds and the like. Innocent people around the
world became insane.
The Wendigo Men didn’t stay for long, but their slow, shambling
relatives took their place. We, the remaining scientists who
first discovered the Wendigo Virus, hesitated to call them what
they really were.
The Living Dead.
Just like in the movies.
The virus was smart. The whole purpose of the symptoms was to
turn the person into those freaks. Apparently, the virus not
only causes necrosis, but causes already-dead tissue to
re-animate. The blomme-waansin spores were acting as some kind
of reanimating reagent.
It was terrifying to think that almost everyone in the world was
shambling stupidly, craving for the flesh of the living. But the
virus was airborne, and the majority of the population had
turned into the Wendigo Men.
I don’t know why I survived.
The surviving group of Scientists, I included, were escorted by
the convoy of the President of the United States towards an
underground bunker in disguise of a Farming Ranch. We huddled up
there, waiting for a miracle.
I still remember the courageous, ambitious look on the
President’s face, a decade ago. He was unfazed from all the
horrors that happened around him. The soldiers looked up to him
as a true leader of this band of Americans-that-were.
He’s dead now.
Every year, his strength waned. The moans of the living dead
echoed through every night we spent under that concrete bunker.
One half-baked soldier grudgingly placed a microphone towards a
horde of the undead. The moans echoed through the military
bunker. Every year there seems to be that one person that flips
out, and our numbers were steadily decreasing.
Gradually, the beasts got in. The President, tired and weary,
embraced the freaks with open arms. I killed him myself. He got
a chunk of my flesh while I killed him, though.
****. I just coughed. Well. The necrovirus just spread through
my lungs, I suppose. I wonder why I’m not going crazy.
Just remember. When one gets infected, he is not the same person
as before. The person’s dead. This is just his body. Shoot him
in the head. Be careful of the water, too. Drink bottled ****.
The virus is waterborne in some parts of America.
What else?
Necrosis.
The Necrovirus usually causes Necrosis. I said that before. Just
watch out for patches of skin that seem odd. Dry skin. ITCHY
SKIN.
If you read this.
If you read this…
I cannot tell you how common those words were. But I don’t know.
I’m afraid to say the other lines. I can’t speak of them—it’s
too horrible. I can’t. I just can’t. What I’m going to become is
ten times worse than anything ever imagined in this world. I
could feel it eating away my body now. I’m dying.
And I can’t whimper.
All my strength has gone to locking myself up—it’s all for you.
I stocked the closet at the back with supplies—a week’s worth of
food, my remaining boxes of shotgun shells, pistol clips, ammo,
and ten days worth of gas. Drive as far as Mexico, whoever you
are, because they’re going to spread. And then go to Antarctica.
As for me, I don’t know. Still, I’m dead. Deader than dead.
O pistol. You were always there for me.
Its muzzle was caked with blood. I tried to shoot myself in the
head, just a few hours ago, but I decided not to. I’d shot one
of those things in the face first, and when I pushed the muzzle
against my temple, it was still hot that it branded the skin of
my forehead with a penny-shaped hole. I winced a bit from the
pain, though I thought of you, and I guess my pain didn’t matter
anymore.
What mattered was the pain I’m going to cause to you.
I don’t know how you((Unreadable Text due to blood splatter))
There goes my uvula. Look at that thing. Throbbing its last. It
doesn’t even hurt a bit, even though blood just wells inside my
mouth. I just need a little water or something. I’ll wash that
off.
I’m so itchy, damn it.
My right arm is all dry and patchy at parts. Wait. I have to
scratch.
There. Itchy gone.
…
…
…
I mean, the itch is gone.
Maybe I’ll just sit here and wait for it to get me I can’t pull
the trigger I want to die but I cant.
People.
Upstairs.
Not dead
I see.
I scratch I scratch itchy not gone
Pepl tasty peple tasty
mihgt ass wele go there n eat dem.
i et n et n et n et da dead don c me
i et
tasty.
#Post#: 3683--------------------------------------------------
Re: Writing Contest
DIR By: SassyCassie
Date: January 2, 2016, 10:58 pm
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[center]The Internal Gift[/center]
One cold afternoon on the beginning of December, there was
a homeless man on the side of the street. The poor man was
asking for spare change to every person to walk by him. A
wealthy, handsome, hard working man walked by him. He stopped
and looked at the poor man. "Here, take this. You will need it
to live in this world of coldness." The man said as he put
something in the poor man's hand. The poor man looked down and
saw nothing but his own palm. He was infuriated with the man of
wealth. The poor man watched him walk home.
Later in the dark night, the wealthy man was in a deep
sleep. The poor man snuck into his house and stole his wife's
jewelry, the man's wallet, and he took the gifts that the man
of wealth was going to give to his beloved children. Before he
left, he wrote a note. On that note were the words written:
"What you did not give to me, I will take from you."
The man of wealth woke up the next morning, and noticed a
few things were missing, actually, quite a lot of things. After
handling his morning routine, he went downstairs to leave for
his job. He found a note on the front door, the note the poor
man had written.
The man read the note out loud to himself, and thought for
a moment. He realized the poor man had followed him home. He
went outside on his way to work, and saw the poor man in the
spot he was yesterday.
"Please know that I did not give you money. But what I did
give you was love, my friend." The man of wealth said as he put
a 100 dollar bill in the poor man's hand.
"I... Oh please forgive me sir, I am so sorry for what I
did." The poor man said sadly, as he started to weep.
"I forgive you, and so does the Lord, Jesus Christ." The
man of wealth said, and then he reached into his bag. The man
pulled out a Bible and gave it to the man. "Believe every word
of this book." He said.
The poor man nodded his head slowly as he watched the man
of wealth walk away.
The poor man felt ashamed for not knowing what the internal
gift was. But he started to live happier when he prayed...
#Post#: 3713--------------------------------------------------
Re: Writing Contest
DIR By: Grizzly
Date: January 8, 2016, 2:17 am
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(This is a lot more joyful, short and more written like a
childrens book than the others, to be unique. Oh yeah, everyone
else's stories are awesome!)
[center]THE GREEDY GIRL[/center]
Once there was a girl, she was a good girl, but she was very,
very greedy. She would eat anything. She would eat cows, dogs -
she would even eat the earth from under your feet.
One day, her parents decided that they had had enough; she was
eating them out of house and home. 'Go away', they said. 'You
are too greedy. We don't want you anymore. Go and find yourself
a rich husband who can afford to feed you.'
The girl went to see her best friend. 'My parents have told me
to go away and find a rich husband. Come with me.' she said.
'OK,' said her best friend, and off they went together.
They walked along the road, out into the forest. At a bend in
the road, they met seven dogs, jumping at them and barking, her
friend was scared, so the greedy girl, chased them into the
jungle and ate them, but when she came back, she could no longer
speak. All she could do was bark. Like a dog.
The two girls walked on. They came to a river ; on the other
side of the river was a city. They crossed the river and entered
the town. The king saw them coming. He looked at the greedy girl
and said, "Ah, that is a very beautiful girl. I must marry her."
So he did. His Prime Minister married the greedy girl's friend.
The greedy girl was happy, but the king's other wives beat her
for being so greedy and she couldn't tell him.
The king was in love with his new wife, but he wished she could
speak instead of barking like a dog. He called all the
witch-doctors of the kingdom, but none of them could do anything
to help. So he decreed that all the women of the kingdom would
come one morning to the city square, and there they would pound
millet together until the sky shook and the gods answered his
prayer. If this did not work, he swore he would kill all his
wives, including the greedy girl.
At this, the greedy girl's friend went to find her. "Come with
me," she said. They went back down the road that they had
arrived on, back over the river and into the jungle, until they
came to the bend where the girl had eaten the dogs. "Follow me,"
said the friend, and they went into the jungle, far into the
jungle, until they came to a hut.
An old woman lived in the hut. When the friend explained their
predicament, she called the greedy girl over to her and she took
a big stick, and told her to offer her back. Then she beat the
girl. "Whap" went the stick, and one of the dogs jumped out of
the girl's mouth. "Whap" went the stick again, and another dog
jumped out. The old woman hit her seven times with the stick,
and each time a dog jumped out of her mouth, and after that, she
could speak again.
The two girls went back to the city. They arrived just as the
women were gathering in the square. "I must be quick", said the
greedy girl, and ran to her room. There she put on her most
beautiful jewels.
When she emerged from the palace into the square, the sun said
"Oh - you are so beautiful! Shall I hide my face?" "Don't be
stupid", said the girl. "If you do that, no one will see me.
Stay where you are." So the sun stayed.
The earth said "Oh - you are so beautiful. Shall I move away
from beneath your feet?" "Don't be stupid," said the girl. "If
you do that, I shall not be able to walk down to the king. Stay
where you are." So the earth stayed.
The king saw his young wife walking towards him, and he was
astounded by her beauty. "Oh," he said, "you are so beautiful. I
will make you my first wife." "Hmmm," said the girl. "Where
there are many, the one will be envied." He was so astonished
and delighted that she could talk he cried out, "You're right!"
and he sent all his other wives' away, and he and the girl lived
happily ever after.
#Post#: 3714--------------------------------------------------
Re: Writing Contest
DIR By: Hammy
Date: January 8, 2016, 9:38 am
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Damn, your guys stories are awesome!
(Shame my imagination sucks :D)
#Post#: 3757--------------------------------------------------
Re: Writing Contest
DIR By: Xephim
Date: January 15, 2016, 11:05 pm
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Bump 2: the Revengening
#Post#: 3790--------------------------------------------------
Re: Writing Contest
DIR By: Xephim
Date: January 25, 2016, 9:18 pm
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There are 6 days remaining. Be sure to submit your entries by
the 31st.
#Post#: 3817--------------------------------------------------
Re: Writing Contest
DIR By: magnusi
Date: January 28, 2016, 6:31 am
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Here is my entry. Sorry for grammar nuances, English is not my
mother tongue
HTML https://docs.google.com/document/d/1R9-k19ONW0GnQ4hxdpTPDsTstu0E-f5oPH_uRFaRE4g/edit?usp=sharing
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