On a dark and stormy night, much like this one...
Do you take fright when something goes bump in the night? Or do you grab a pen and begin to write? Now is your chance to author something spoopy and win some prizes while doing it!
Below you'll have your selection of 3 (three) writing prompts. Pick a prompt and write from it, taking the base information and writing in any direction that you please. Something scary, silly, or halfway in between! It's your call!
Now, there are a few rules. Please read the rules very carefully, as a submission that violates them will be disqualified, and you will have to submit a new story if you wish to continue to participate.
Rules of (writing) Engagement: Most important: Please PM me your submission. Do not post it here. You may discuss the event and anything pertaining to it here, but please do not post your submission. Send it to me in a private message.
2) Absolutely no plagiarism. I will be checking, and I have many strong ninjas trained in the art of Google-Fu, as well as one particular librarian familiar with L-Space. Plagiarism will earn you an instant disqualification, as well as a disappointed shake of the head.
3) All submissions must be in by the end of November 8th, no later than that.
4) All submissions may be no shorter than 200 words. I'm not asking for Melville length writing, buuuut I'm going to need more than the length of a free advert in the local paper.
5) Have fun!
The submission skeleton (Spooky!) is as follows:
Our story begins...
The writing prompts are as follows. You may pick from any, as they will all be judged together. And the prompts are...
1) “Help! Help!” You hear a voice crying out from the creepy abandoned manor. Your helpful nature guilts you in to going inside. What was calling for you, and what happens to you inside?
2) It's Halloween, and the skeleton armies have risen up to take back the Earth! How do you fight off the undead armies and live to see the day?
3) You are DEAD! But you are also a ghost! A typical suburban family has moved in to the place that you haunt. What happens, and how do you (un)live with them?
And the winner is...(Prizes)
Submissions will be judged on overall quality of the work, as well as how engaging I find the story. There will be A First, Second, and Third prize, as well as participation prizes for all who enter. And the prizes are...
First Prize: Calaca Bundle
Second Prize: 8 Jackoloots
Third Prize: 4 Jackoloots
Participation Prize: One RIG item of your choice.
Have fun and enjoy!
And the winners are...
First Place: pink pantzer
Entry:
Second Place: Lawtan
Entry:
Here tell the Victory and End of Marcus Junius Maximus , favored of Minerva and Ananke, whose scout Decurion of 32 men took and held the walls of small Ipsarin from the foul magics of Sarcaeus, in the old Imperial lands...
Aurora glided into the sky, announcing the coming of Helios. The decurion already gathered and was packing camp. No Etruscan warrior dared to be behind on crack-of-dawn inspection. The Legion leaders - 30 in total - gathered to plan for supplies. They made break of bread and hare-meat.
For a year outside the walls of Ipsarin the Etruscan Legion laid siege to the semi-arid trade post. The mountainous walls were built to withstand the shots fired from ballistae, while the defenders would charge out of tunneled passages before collapsing them behind. However, the Legion maintained rank and Etruscan strategy prevailed over Ipsarian cowardice. Mars shone on the Legion this day, and begged Minerva to gift the soldiers her wisdom. For, Marcus Maximus, the Decurion leader, was well read in strategy, and suggested a false truce - a wooden Oliphant crafted from food-wagon parts destroyed in battle.
Across the outer wall piled two stacks of warriors - friend and foe. Their bodies were kept untributed by the Ipsarian foe - we would see to their toll after the walls itself were captured. Gaius, Sardicus, Laius, and other brave souls numbered in a few hundred spoiling meats of war.
Under the guise of a night ocean-fog, our Architechts layered wood on wood, until a wheeled belly-beast was formed. Then, the Decurion of Markus, for it was his idea, entered the “tribute.” Our forces withdrew to Remens nearby to await the infiltration of Ipsarin. The people of Ipsarin moved and celebrated throughout the night around the offering. They went silent only well after the midnight hour. The 32 men waited till a few hours before dawn before dawn to leave.
The silent city held no person in the roadways. No person moved by the openings. No babes cried out to be fed. Morpheus reigned in silence over the town as the Decurion broke through doors and searched for people...
The chariot rode across the sky until all shadows were extinguished, and the perspiring militia, exhausted from breaking into vacant after vacant and looted after abandoned mud-brick-homes, approached a final structure. It was a tall thing, with a semi-circular vaulted roof. No walls or doors barred the interior of the three-sided structure from the party.
Marcus called for Julius, Claudius, Hyperion, and Antonius to enter the opened vessel. With the eagerness of looters, they rushed in heedless of our shouts to keep minor formation. However, we held back.
Across it - a vast mosaic depicted an unfamiliar being cast down from Zeus onto the world. Wealth was obvious in its creation, from the golden chain hanging across the facade to the carved graffiti explaining the tale in an unfamiliar tongue - perhaps it is the text of the demipopulum. As the men awaited the four to examine the interiors - well within sight - the winds droned against the buildings.
It is notable that no rewards were to be found - not even in the caskets of the Iwan structure. Resigned to an inglorious victory and drawn search for people, the Decurion left for the closed gates.
Achilles the Clinician approached Marcus with worry. The drone had escalated to a hum, a chant, akin to the Myrmidon’s chittered oath. Fearful, he had Marcus send the Miles Justinian and Francesca to open the gates. As they approached, the hum became a cacophony of smashing things. With a look of dread, for they were fresh and youthful but experienced with death, they approached the entrance. With force, they shoved the heavy thing open, into an unseen haze. A buzz, with flurry, the sandy spirits of those slain in battle covered their bodies. White armored miniature warriors crawled over the abandoned dead. One such warrior possessed the heels of Hermes, and struck Justinian down. Francesca cried and tried to close the door, suffering the scorpion blades of the creatures. The creatures flew up over the walls, angered at the disturbance. The Miles’s cries alerted the other 32 soldiers, and they split and took refuge in the more closed off buildings. Marcus, Justinian, Achilles, and Lysander stuck together. Francesca collapsed, boils forming across his body. The Venator from Gaul, Alaric, dragged him into another building, suffering further envenomed jabs.
The afternoon, and the night, the creatures continued their assault. Like warriors of the Furies, they pursued any crack or crevice, where blade and armor smashed them. The vengeance lessened with the cool dawn. With great sorrow, Justinian died of poison in the night.
Lysander left in the morning, and moved from building to building. Julius had fallen defending Claudius and Hyperion. Antonius was nowhere to be found. When Lysander opened the building of Alaric and Francesca, he balked. They were open-mouthed, as in a scream. Their flesh yellowed and covered in bursted boils. Eyes gouged. Their bodies held a webbed brown crust, like a cone of dust. Alaric looked stoic in death, though swollen. The White Warriors colonized and cannibalized the bodies.
Lysander and the 25 warrors met with Marcus. Some were disabled by the venom of the enemy. Hyperion was blinded by the foe. Achilles treated three others who could not fight, and gave mercy to two others. No fires could be had, and one other died in the night. Marcus suggested to wait the foe out. Antonius the impulsive disagreed.
Antonius led a group of four towards the gate, overtaken by an extending growth of bone, meat, and dustwax. The hum rose as the bones of the fallen soldiers rose under the wings of the White Warriors. The dusty wax formed as paper-thick robes. To be defiled in death in such a manor, their spirits excited to rage. Carrying broken blades, the dead hovered and with the speed of birds rushed to battle the impulsive Antonius. Up came the blades and down. Boils formed on the unprotected arms of the warriors. The magic hum of Pluto’s wrath came down on Antonius’s hubris, and he fell.
Across the Iwan the bone and wax gathered, carried by the White Warriors. It grew and twisted into a maddened beast of folklore. Abomination. Half-man, but made of not but man. Four-legged after four-legged beast grew from the new nest.
In night the troupe of 21 slept. The waxen webs grew, and bones and flesh moved along the will of the humming White. New shapes deformed from man crossed the paths. A centaur guarded the paths. Two strong souls, Gradius and Flavius, tackled the beast near our areas, and bought us peace from the child of Charon. The beast with Alaric’s face and blade severed from body Flavius’s head, and chased the taunting Gradius away.
The enemy observed, Marcus determined to leave. He had the shields fashioned as a wall above and across, and bit Lysander to take charge.
Marcus called Achilles and six others to his side. They formed a wall with their shields, and with their mighty gladii marched through the opened gates. They cut down the desert corpses, ignoring the White Warrior’s as they stung between the armor. With the meticulous fury of a proper Etruscan Warrior, they met venom with steel and carved a path with which Lysander led the remaining 11 soldiers out towards Remera. Though no pain was suffered, bar Lysander’s eye, Marcus and his group gradually fell. With less than 20 gradii remaining, Marcus fell. His breath quickened - gasping as if drowning, then ceased. So ended the leader of the scout Decurion, whose plan took the city, and who fought a new threat to the Empire.
Illusion
Entry:
Name: Pen Name: George the Seemingly Harmless Ghost (aka Illusion.)
Prompt Selection: Prompt #2
Did you read the rules?: (You'd be surprised!)I agree to all but rule #5. Don't tell me what do. D<
Title of the story: Skel-light.
Story:
I'd never given much thought to how I would die though I'd had reason enough in the last few days but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this. I stared without blinking across a long room, into the dark eyes of a living skeleton army.
Two days ago I was living in the town of Spoon River Illinois. My Dad, Joseph, who was recently remarried to a guy name Jim offered to have me stay with him for a while because of my bad break up with an abusive boyfriend.
"Mella." Joseph called from downstairs. "Do I have get the cable tie and drag you to school myself!? I ran down the steps half dressed and my finger doing all the talking. "Okay I get it. Just be ready in 5." I quickly get dressed and hop into Joseph's truck. He quickly started the car and floored it to deliver me to school.
Spoon River Illinois High School was just a reflection of my older school. I kept to myself during classes and by time of lunch I searched for a seat at a table. But then I saw him. Skinny as bones, with dark piercing eye holes, and a dark presence. Staring at him I stumbled and as I was about to fall this boy lounged onto the floor to break my fall and caught my spaghetti. As I stood up he put the spaghetti back in my hand. I asked him, "Who are you?" The mystery boy quickly whispered: "EDWARDO."
Something was unusual about Edwardo. So after stalking him for the rest of school I came to this conclusion. "He is a living skeleton." I confronted him at the end of class. "I need to talk to you. Come into the woods with me now." Edwardo agreed without saying a thing. Students gawked at us wondering why the popular Edwardo would be walking next to me. When we came to the woods I confronted him. "I know what you are!" Edwardo looked at me and yelled "EDWARDO!"
"YOU ADMITTED IT!"
"EDWARDO!"
"You... You love me!?"
"EDWARDO!" Suddenly I felt the urged and jumped towards Edwardo. At that moment I felt like I could spend eternity with him."
Edwardo and I became inseparable the next day. He told me "EDWARDO!" I take it he wanted me to meet his family tomorrow. I kissed him constantly telling him I loved him. He hid his emotions and simply said "EDWARDO!" The next day I met him at Spoon River's Graveyard, we sat in a abandon gravediggers house until night time, him holding me down onto the floor nawing on my flesh. I thought it was going to be my first time, but then his parents came. One by one they risen from the ground, all yelling out "EDWARDO." I stare into Edwardo's dark eyeholes one last time and realized. "YOU DON'T LOVE ME. YOU NEVER LOVED ME. You we're just after my flesh after all this time!"
So-I'd never given much thought to how I would die though I'd had reason enough in the last few days but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this. I stared without blinking across a long room, into the dark eyes of a living skeleton army. In a rush I jolted as fast as I could until Jim my Dad's husband jumps out of nowhere and transform into a puppy dog. A game of fetch ensued, a battle so epic that there was no survivors.
That following morning, my Dad was in a wreck. He never knew Jim was a werepuppy, but one thing was for sure. He was a good boy. Every night afterwards I thought about Edwardo in my bed and what could had been. I could of grew old with him, had abortions with him, and started a family of skeletons. I glanced out my window and I thought I saw something. I dismissed it, when I closed my eyes I heard something whisper into my ears. "EDWARDO!"
Last edited by Salone; 11-13-2015 at 12:07 AM.
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