Monthly Contest Archives

4thseal · 21-11-2007, 06:10 PM

Poetry Comp #1
Winners: 1st - LONGTIME, 2nd - Yachiru, 3rd - Juno
Judges: Akiia, Rie
Topic: Life and Death
Entries:

I've got these abstract thoughts of being who I'm not/Like Ripley's, Believe It Or Not!/Got caught, I'm feeling distraught/like I've been shot now I'm on the spot/I dropkick rhymes n beat you down/Like I am "The Don" & so it's on!/Strong n bitter words indicate a weak cause/ You do admit you have a few flaws/Begin with my synapsis...for my mission or my next objective/Wanna be Bigger than Collasus/Wearing super-hero tights n galoshes/ Yo! I spit this verse/in order to serve..justice/as I floss to this/My job consists of reacting to a sniper get ready/I`m about to blow up this cypher/reacting to a chemical attack/got 9 seconds to put on my protective mask/before contact, establish radio communication/& request for a med-evac/hence..I must conduct some defense/conduct a security patrol over here/establish an observation post over there/conduct tactical movement/in case of ambush or attack/to create a diversion for insertion/of a deliberate relief in place & face/the enemy.. Must conduct troop leading procedures/report tactical information/also treat & evacuate casualties/then perform consolidation & reorganization for the fate of my men/relies in my hands/and this is where I stand./In command! This is where you/start to dread/codename:"DEAD"/is assigned to this mission/a one man killing machine/there`s no doubt/I`d take a whole platoon out.. You should fear/this Force Protector or Combat Engineer/I`m in the Army of One/gotta watch yo back/cuz of my gun/I rip through & start blastin`/criminals & terrorists/watch my fist/as it gets pissed/I clench them tight/I`ll do it right/you lay low and/stay outta sight/the pussy that you are/you just give up/without a fight. GrrRrR!! Get Some!! Stay alert!!! Stay alive!!! HOO-AH!? The realness of cultural shock collaberation is in a state/of its own debate/has the potential for others to relate about this syndicate...& who they affiliate with or come to hate/my rhymes start to make you indicate the weather or whether/my styles getting better/making more cheddar forever/aite watevers clever/chillin like a villain making millions of copies/damn you can't STOP me!

4thseal · 21-11-2007, 06:21 PM

Poetry Comp #2
Winners: 1st - Sarah, 2nd - Muskrat, 3rd - Fresh1
Judges: Ai, Yachiru, LONGTIME
Topic: Animals
Entries:

4thseal · 21-11-2007, 06:42 PM

Short Story Comp #1
Winners: 1st - Enishi, 2nd - Sarah, 3rd - Frostbitex
Judges: Yachiru, LONGTIME, Bara
Topic: Freestyle
Entries:

Something to Wake Up to.

The old engine grumbled to a stop in the closest lot we could find. I quickly whispered a thankful prayer that it hadn’t given out on us and threw in a less thankful ending concerning a dad too cheap to replace it.

As I stepped out into freedom my mind flashed back to the curious and creative myriad of excuses that were given to get out of this trip. Richard had yard work to do, Mary suddenly was overwhelmed by an interest in knitting and begged Grandma to teach her everything, Sammy became enlightened to the fact that she should actually do her homework and Sunny was inflicted by a headache worthy only of Hollywood. As it stood, only I and my crippled father would be carrying anything because mom insisted it was a job for the “young and testosterone-enhanced.”

In an effort to distract myself from the ever-nearing march that was to come, I drew in the surroundings I would call home for the next two semesters. Beyond the crumbling parking lot stood a towering building, a relic of at least thirty years back. Across the street was the same building stacked onto itself about three times. Both featured brown bricks near the base and a sickly green and aluminum construction above that. I couldn’t help but contemplate whether this would really be worth the pay increase a university degree would give me.

My musings were interrupted by the sound of stubborn metal joints being forced open. Plentiful awkward noises sprang from the trunk as my father rummaged around for something he could carry without any danger of accidents. After he hauled a microwave from the abyss I went in and produced a large container of inevitably wrinkled clothes. With a nod, we began our trek towards the smaller of painfully gaudy buildings.

We made it to my floor with the help of an elevator that threatened more tragedy than our car and were greeted with a flourishing pink monotone. The look on my face must have been tell-tale of my willingness to forego school entirely rather than wake up to this everyday as my father grunted forward before I could vocalize my feelings. We stopped about halfway down the hall in front of a room almost directly across from the foreboding public water closet. There was a slight pause, and then I rested my burden on the floor and jammed the room key in. I took a deep breath, silently hoping I was the first of my roommates to get there.

None of us really knew how to say goodbye to family, so we decided to eat lunch together before they departed. Mom wanted to go somewhere classy for our last meal, but dad firmly insisted that Wendy’s was just as good and a good deal faster to boot. We ate our bacon cheeseburgers in silence and paraded back to the car in a similar fashion. Dad didn’t say a word when they dropped me off although I wouldn’t have been able to hear him anyway over mom’s tearful adieus. They had already driven out of sight by the time I reached the entrance.

I opened the door as if I were walking into my room back home but stopped short at the sight of someone kneeling on the floor. We exchanged my awkward stare for her startled one, and then she stumbled to her feet with a gasp. She snatched a sheet of paper from her desk and handed it to me, motioning for me to flip it over. The front was printed with Mapquest directions from my house to a street I didn’t recognize, and the back was littered with a hurriedly scrawled note.

She was still standing in front of me, a pale, slender girl with the largest and most timid eyes I had ever encountered. She was leaning forward slightly and her mouth was slightly open, as if her livelihood rested on my response. Her light brown hair was done up in a bun and she wore a dress that reluctantly stopped at her ankles.

“Are you mute?” I ventured bluntly, to which she responded by shaking her head passionately…wholly unaware of the irony. I returned my attention to the note, this time trying to make out the writings. It began with a recap of my childhood, skipped to the events of this last summer, and ended apologetically with my father’s own version of a tear-stained goodbye.

After assuring my roommate that my father hadn’t died, evidenced by him writing the note, I pinned it onto the shelves above my desk. Perhaps…I might just be able to get past the pink.

Spring romance

I walk from the forest to the meadow. And there he is. He is standing on the hill, his tall dark hair is flowing in the wind. His strong hand holds delicate wild flower surprisingly gently. It is same kind of flower his dream girl had held on that special night not too long ago.

He can feel my eyes on him. And he turns around, but don’t move. He waits patiently for me to reach him. And his intense gaze makes my face flush. He seems to know what is going on in my mind. He smiles to me so gently. That smile makes me dizzy. He is undoubtedly the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Beautiful and so manly. He is so strong, loving and caring. And he is there, waiting for me. I can’t believe this is true. That someone like him could care for someone like me.

I stop walking, I have to. I pretend to put some order in my hair. I have to ignore his presence for a moment. Otherwise this moment will be too much for me to bear. But now he gets inpatient. He steps forward with long steps. Greets me with a frank smile and gives me that flower. We can’t take our eyes out each other. And after a long silence he takes gently my hand to his. ”This place is desperately lonely. So do you mind if I protect you and escort you to safety, fair maiden?” I can’t get even sound out of my mouth so I just nod.

We walk in silence. His hand holds mine. We walk back to the forest on the other side of the meadow. Under the elms is so peaceful and yet, I can’t help it, but my body is trembling for the excitement. He must think it’s because I’m freezing since he makes us stop and wraps his cloak around me. When he buckles it, his hands get lost. One holds my chin and other is somewhere in my long hair. He smiles to me gently and his blue eyes look deeply in mine. Look in his eyes changes and it makes me blush. I can feel warmth of his breath on my skin. I feel stunned and have to close my eyes.

”You look tired and breathless. Just around there is a stream. We should go there and get you some water for refreshment.” He puts his strong arm around me to support me till we get to the stream. I wash my face and drink some water. He helps me up again. And I can feel strong arms around me. And this time his is not going to let me go. Not for any reason. He kisses me. Passionately. I feel frightened and same time better than ever. It fills me with joy.

After a moment. We start to walk again. I’m bewildered. All this is bit too much for me. Again he seems to know what is going in my mind. ”I assure you, my fair maiden. My intentions to you are honest and serious.” His deep voice calms me. He feels encouraged and holds me again.

City of Hell

It was forever. Literally....honestly...completely...it was forever and now it was over. The universe was at its finale and I had front row seats. I watched as the Lord God himself created the pit of hell, and the palace of heaven. I stood for my judgement and my sins before the almighty, and no you cannot hear them for they are mine to keep not your's on request, and was cast aside. I spent almost 6,000 years in hell...before..

Before something strang happened. A man trying to end the tourture clawed his throat open. His blood cooled the ground a bit, just a tiny bit...and of course he kept bleeding but couldn't die. Others begain to do the same Bleeding and bleeding until there was a small area to stand.

As the ground kooled and harded those few had an idea. Gathering up others they begain to make tiles out of cooled lava and blood. Before long they had a large basis of land created. The City grew and grew and grew, countless Trillions made the city fluourish.

Although we cannot escape hell, at least we were able to make a life of sorts for ourselves here. Few people remember there past, most were driven semi-insane from the torture. Over the next few centuries the city grew, it was learned how to take metal from the lava and soon, skyscrapers and weapons and tools were everywhere. Fallen Angels came and lived with us, there magics provided us with clothes and a few other conviences. It wasnt for centuries that I met one of those poor souls, without memory, he was Alan "Blue Jeans". And this is his story.

It's not all that uncommon, although rather infrequient now. For souls to wash up on our shores. They were swept farthest out or down and it took them centuries to float into sight of the city.

Alan was one of those, I remeber working on the metal docks. Oh, yeah your still new here...I was working on these docks, we have these cords made of some kind of magical super metal the fallen angels made for us. Liquid metal sticks to them. All around the city we constently dredge for metal. To make anything we can to take our minds off this boring continuious existance.

Alan was one of those, that washed up. I was working at the docks at the time, I wasnt the one that rescued him, I didn't even rush over to help...since you cant really die here. I just continued my dredging. Just another soul to join the flock, just another day for me.

A few weeks later, I heard from dock gossip that Alan was coming to work with our crew. Again not something that uncommon. Most people that are rescued usually come to help those that rescue them. Everyone, even those with no memory (or espically those with no memory) seek out any kind of connection to others that they can.

Needless to say, considering the majority of the company that makes up the city...he was used badly. It didnt help that he had a trait others considered a sign of true perversion. He was blind....in a place where no injury was permenant, where all suffered equally, he was blind...and anywho those scum dredgers at the docks see it as a sign of weakness and took as much advantage of him as much as they could.

I always used to wonder back then, what cause disabilities of the soul like that. Needless to say, we arn't really alive you know. We are souls; not true bodies...yet even his soul was blind...I can understand how that may have been scary to others. But how could they know, how could they have know his true beauty? Maybe they never will....

Beyond the Stars

Emptiness, it was a universe of emptiness. Darkness filled all and all that was left was the sight of dead stars, a symbol of what had been and an omen of what was to come for the rest. This was a world soaked in eternal darkness, eternal despair. Suddenly, it looked as though something flickered far off in the horizon. It slowly became bigger and clearer. It was moving closer, and changing. Jagged white cuts seemed to come out of it and cut closer across the ever darkened world of a dieing reality. Without relent, they speed closer, ever closer. In their wake, it seemed as if that eternal void of nothingness was flaking. The white lightning came closer, finally speeding past. Slowly the darkness all around began to fall off. Piece by piece, shard by shard, that old singed world disintegrated into nothing, revealing a blinding white light. But, as the light faded it could be seen that what lied there was not a utopia, but more of another forsaken wasteland.

The skies shone red, that of crimson. Screams of the masses filled the air, and rivers of blood filled the streets. It was much brighter then the darkness, but even that darkness was more inviting then this hell. Gray trails could be seen in the sky, and soon after two explosions followed. There was a young boy, comforting what looked to be his older sister at the feet of a woman of forty; her eyes, glazed over and her blond hair soaked red. Near the explosions a mother was running around, calling for her lost husband and children. Nearby a severed arm could be seen in the rubble, ring still on the finger. The people had wanted war, and they had gotten it…but at a price that they couldn't pay. There is no peace here, only war; no diplomacy, only chaos. A moment of rare silence breaks. Deep, haunting, absolute silence.

Within that millisecond, a ray of white light shines through the crimson skies. In its glow is a young, crying boy. A hand of hope is extended to him, but as soon as it is the whole world seems to push it away. Its unrelenting force makes it so that we cannot stop. We can see that planet, crimson skies bright, we can see the sun as we shoot past it. Further and further, we are pushed. Pushed past solar systems, galaxies, and even the stars at the far reaches of the universe. One by one, even those most distant stars blink out of our vision, and we are left in darkness. A darkness that filled all, a symbol of what had been and an omen of what was to come. This was a universe soaked in eternal darkness, eternal despair. Slowly, one can see something flickering far off in the horizon. Would the next world be better then the last?

Slaughterhouse

I'm surround by a fence of hate. One in which my very soul is shackled to, clamoring for it's freedom. But it does not come. Not until it is too late for your mortal coil. the thought teases you while you wait to die. I have no more hope left, I haven't for a long time now. Since I've lost it time seens to go by so much faster. I refuse to care about my death and the anticipation that comes along with it. I await my slaughter with prideful apathy.

There are others around me in the dark. I spend my time watching them all. Most have not accepted their fate yet. Not come to the same grim realization as I. Some even attempt to raise the spirits of out more downtrodden. I hate them. They hand out false hopes like candy to the gluttons. they make the wait for them all the worse.

The sad ones are ones I despise as well. they are just as bad. They pity themselves and the ones around them. they ask the same question which is impossible to ask, "why me?". During the night it's worse. They wail away, stirring me awake. Do they not know? I never want to wake up. The more I am concsious about where I am, the better the chance is that I break. And become one of them.

The ones that hold us imagine themselves as nice people when they let us out of the cold steel room where they hold us all. I believe they do it just to tease us more. Nothing changes during these times outside during the day. The cage is still around us, it is just more spread out than before. The free space disappears when we all dash to the edges of our captive spaces and cry for freedom. We yell harshly, and even louder when we see a car come by to pass by. They just point and stare. Children laught at us, at our misery. Our totrure is nothing to laugh at.

The other change we have during these grazing sessions is the daylight itself. Perhaps it is nice for the first few minutes while we adjust to the warmth and brightness of the sun, but after that time many of us would wish to be in the dark again. The difference comes when you are able to see your friends in the light. Their hideous skin is tattered and scabbed. The faces are in twisted horror. This disgusting visage is normally hidden, wrapped in the darkness. But it becomes all to clear in the daylight. It doesn't take long to figure out why they are avoiding your gaze the same way you are avoiding theirs, you look the exact same.

That's one reason I do not go outside any longer. The people who hold us call me lazy or depressed when they pass me by. But I'm not. I'm afraid. I'm afraid of the clear sight the light gives me.

And now the day is here. One woman and one man determine everyone's fate. As they enter we all rush the caged door. We trample some by accident, but I look at them and wish sometimes. All of us as individuals try to get their attention. It's all useless though. They already know who and how many they are going to pick. It doesn't stop us from trying though, desparately trying. I have my own screech, since I have not learned speech. Have not learned their tongue besides one word. They say it constantly while they are with us.

..."Pig"

They slide more fences around us, to divide us all. They are dividing the ones they want and the ones that are still too young. My eyes watches in anticipation. My disregard for everything is lifted and thrown away always at this point. This time I'm not disappointed though. I'm picked. I'm one of the chosen ones who will go and leave this place forever. More than twenty of us are being taken through a strange maze with walls to high to jump. There won't be many more confinement now though. I trod along, happy for the first time since I was born, sucking on the teat of my mother with my brothers and sisters. They were taken before me. I hope I see them where I am headed.

I'm hung upsidedown by my legs. I begin to struggle. Not because I want to though. It's from the shock of being hoisted through a rope. I wonder what happens next until I see a human walking next to me. His gloves are holding onto a thick sheen of metal wrapped in itself. Almost a pipe if it were hollow. There is no question what the intention is and I wonder whether my wishes for this to happen sooner were ill-conceived. This time I struggle for struggle's sake and moan. The first hit to my head is like a lightning bolt. I almost enter a seizsure immediately from the pain. Thank God for the second hit. It knocks me out. I'll never be able to wake up again.

I never want to wake up. The more I am concsious about where I am, the better the chance is that I break. And become one of them...

A God in the Making

Little hands shaped the wet sand into perfect little mounds and placed them in a large flat sand covered plastic bin. The searing sun high in the sky seemed to dry them hard before the digits could fully form the next one. The little girl hunched over in the dirt wiped her brow. It was hard work, but it was necessary in order to finish the creation. After five little hills protruded proudly from the sandy base, she slapped her palms down on her knees in satisfaction. With the first part finished, she sifted through a half-eaten lunch and produced a few sweet crumbs from her snack cake. The girl scattered them around the ground, stood up and left.

The sun had sunk close to the horizon by the time the girl returned. She looked where she had dropped the food and squealed in delight at the couple of dozen ants gather in a clump around the morsels. She scooped them up quickly, dropped them in the bin, and watched. Deciding quickly that observing a ball of ants was boring, she separated each one from the collective. Some ants on hilltops some down in the valleys others were placed in groups and a few left alone. As the little insect bodies began to move hurriedly across the grainy dirt in confusion, the she finally enclosed them into their tiny little world. Tomorrow she would come again.

The sun was just peeking up from the distant hills and the girl was already hovered above the little world. She brought more food today, but instead of the snack cake from the day before she only offered dried bread crusts. The insects didn’t flock as eagerly and yet refused to stay in the perfect little places she had put them the day before. Frustrated she enclosed them again and decided she wouldn’t bring food tomorrow.

Days passed and the child became more restless with the tiny universe she created. The bugs didn’t appreciate her efforts and she kept finding them stuck to the walls of the bin as if trying to escape. She huffed an angry breath before squashing the last few escapees into the hard plastic. There would be no food tomorrow either.

The girl walked slowly to the bin, kicked the top off, and noticed a few more ants stuck to the sides again. She screamed in frustration before fixing her brow in a scowl. Enough was enough. With a one final sigh she turned placed the nozzle of the hose in the bin and watched solemnly as it quickly washed over the hills she spent so much time building days before. She couldn’t help the ‘I told you so’ look as she watched the small ant bodies float to the top as they struggled to swim. When the bin was full, she shut off the water. She watched them all until the last one ceased moving, and with one hard tug tipped the bin over and emptied all its contents. Tomorrow she would create a better world.

Second Chance

Amnesia? How cliche can things get? That only happens in those gay, cheap, chick flicks where the guy forgets who he is and falls in love with some random woman in the end. I remember partying hard the other night and enjoying the pleasures of a virile prostitute, but before that, absolutely nothing. Since I woke up three hours ago I've been walking. It's all I could think of since then. Take a walk and clear my head. As I started to walk, though, little did I know that my route to clarity had already been plotted.

At five in the evening it was unusually dark, overcast as if the sky with it's full glory was cowering from what was to come. Not knowing where I should be going I begin to pass through a dank, dirty alleyway between two dilapidated buildings. It was rife with the smell of rotting wood, food and human waste. On one side lay trash and shoddily made shacks constructed out of cardboard boxes strewn along the length of the alley. On the other, the same. A pair of eyes peered out of one of the shacks with a look of hopelessness and grief embedded within them. "Kill yourself", I thought. "Take the sharpest thing you can find and slit your throat. End your misery and join in the sweetness of freedom. There is no heaven, no hell, nothing to lose, no Go...". Before I could finish my thought the eyes turned quickly into the face of a young man. A glint caught me unaware as his hand lifted up to his jugular and with one uninterrupted motion pulled across his dirty neck without hesitation. He knelt before me, blood gushing from the wound. As he stared at me I turned and walked away. I couldn't help but smirk and think, "You fool."

I continued on my journey. Journey to where? I didn't know. I thought about the young man and how he lived. Homeless, cold, hungry. What sort of world is this? Whoever thought it would be funny to give people a chance to live like that must have a weird sense of humor. I was now in what could only be described as a bustling, human traffic hub. Pedestrian traffic was thick on the pavements and cars whizzed by on the streets. Electronic advertisements beamed their subliminal messages of "Buy me!" into my brain with scenes of scantily clothed women. Nice. The neon signs of porn shops buzzed with every illumination as the perverted customers inside attempted to avoid eye contact with each other. All of a sudden a young girl scampering up the pavement collided with my legs. She was a puny little thing, couldn't be more than fifteen years old, but she was dressed like a grown woman. Makeup, black skirt and white blouse, both smaller than should be and showing more cleavage than anything I have previously witnessed. It brought up thoughts that no man should think. It made me feel dirty, guilty, pleased. It could not be helped. "Get outta my way you asshole!", she yelled with an accent befitting her attitude. "You pervert. Wanna have sex with me don't you?". I chuckled to myself. "I'm sure I can take your soul before you can scream for help.", I threw back. "Piss off!", she yelled as she hurried off down the road. Children these days have no respect for anyone. I continued on my way.

Some time later I passed some random guy buying hot dogs from a roadside vendor. As he whipped out his wallet I remembered something. I have a wallet too! I may have identification in it. Finally, my memory is coming back. I reached into my back pant pocket...empty. Right pocket...empty. Left pocket...the same. That girl....the little bitch stole my wallet. I finally get some hope and it's snuffed out. Damn! I need a drink. I turn to my left and I spot a sign that read, "Lucifer's Pub". Interesting name. I decided to check it out and see if I could get myself a beer or something. The entrance to the pub was a staircase leading down into the floor. Possibly a basement. It wa all dark and smelled like rusted iron. A lone bouncer guarded the front door with a steely look on his face. "The Lord be with you.", he spat out. "The Lord doesn't care about me.". I replied like a smart ass. "Go on in.", the bouncer whispered as he opened the door for me. Apparently I unwittingly guessed the password to enter this place. I was quite pleased at my luck. First stop, the bar.

Into my fifth shot of tequila and I was now enjoying myself. The ambience of the pub was sort of predominantly rock with a heavy metal, head banging kind of ambience. On stage there was a deformed looking man wiping a concrete slab that was laid across two wooden horse stands. Looked like he was preparing the table structure for some sort of performance. After five minutes of him setting up the structure all music stopped. Everyone proceeded to the front of the stage. Everyone except me. The music started back. The DJ was playing one of Nine Inch Nails' songs, 'You Know What You Are?'. How ironic since I didn't know who I was. How the hell do I know the band and song when I can't even remember my own name? As the song progressed and the tempo rose the deformed man reappeared leading a young girl dressed in all black. During the first chorus he laid her across the table he prepared not to long ago. The crowd then began mumbling something in audible. I glance at the bartender who was keenly observing the performance. When I took my attention back to the stage a sight unlike anything was waiting for me. The girl was strapped down to the table and completely naked. The deformed man was also undressed and in his right hand he held a slim blade. He grabbed her by the legs and proceeded to mount the little figure. Her body moved violently against his. She looked like she was enjoying it.

With my ears tuned to the music I looked on at the scene. Gradually I began to hears small screams. I left my seat and moved closer to the stage. The closer I got the louder the screaming. I squeezed my way through the crowd until I was directly in front. It was then I realized that the young girl was gagged and it was her screams I heard. She was being raped. I stood there. Nothing. No emotions. Liquid was rolling off the table onto the stage and gradually off onto the floor. It smelled of iron. The deformed man had been slicing the young figure randomly as he thrust himself into and out of the girls body. After two minutes of this he tensed and climaxed and as he did so he plunged the blade up to the handle into her stomach. She screamed and twisted and as she did so I saw her face. It was that of the girl from on the streets. The one who stole my wallet. The rapist after his brief satisfaction proceeded center stage and announced, "In the name of our saviour who is here with I sacrifice this lamb so that he shall be pleased." He walked back to the table and promptly slashed the girls throat. Blood sprayed and spattered onto my face. I felt a burning sensation in my head as flashes of past memories flooded me. A battle, a loss, fire, death, choirs, angels, betrayal, suicide, greed. A flood of sensation all over. The "Master of Ceremonies" alighted the stage and walked up to me. Bowing he greeted me. "Welcome back my Lord. You are reborn. This is it. Your second chance.". With that the final chorus rang out loud. It was then that I understood.

I did not suffer from amnesia. I had no memories to lose. I was reborn. It was my second chance to do what I had failed to do before. My father cast me out of my home because I wanted everyone to rule a small portion of his empire. It's my second chance to bring my home to this earth. My hell, my empire. This is my second chance and I plan to succeed.

4thseal · 21-11-2007, 07:08 PM

Short Story Comp #2
Winners: 1st - zoeygirl, 2nd - Sarah, 3rd - Insin
Judges: Yachiru, LONGTIME, 4thseal
Topic: Freestyle
Entries:

The Poison Curse (PG-13)

One night, on August 13th, there was a war. A massive one. Many lives were lost, many maidens weeped, but there was one soldier who survived. The man's name was Eltador. He was a brave, and valiant man. He fought bravely, till the night he died. He died of a cursed poison, that only one man can retrieve. Or should I say one GOD. The God of Poison has felt wrath on him. And at every 100 years on August 13 at 9:00 sharp, poison strikes any random person who has lived over the age of 20.

Then havoc arose, onto a man named Juan. It has been 100 years since Eltador had died, and it was August 13th. Juan was a young 21 year old man, finished college and lived a healthy life. When he got back to his apartment a spirit came up to him and said, "You will be poisoned tonight by a God and die." Juan came up to the spirit and said to him, "How the devil do you know?!" "Because 100 years ago..." And the spirit told Juan the story of Eltador. Juan took this as a challenge. He decides that he will try to escape his death.

It was 8:59 PM, Juan was trembling. When it struck 9:00 a spirit said a quick pace of words, but Juam dodged the spell. He ran out of his apartment, and ran as fast as he could. Then, a DEAD End. Juan unfortunately, faced his future and died. Slowly and painfully on the ground. When he was at the Gates of Heaven God gave him a chance. To take down the curse of the poison once and for all. God gave him God-like powers for a limeted time. Juan had 24 hours to take down the spirit.

Juan rushed down. All the way down to the wretches of Hell. He had to kill many demons, survive wretched fire, and spirits. He had spent a long time searching for the Poison God, but no avail. Alas, he had 12 hours left, but time was running out. Then he saw the spirit. He had summoned the sword of Heaven, and slashed out. Though the sword had no effect on it, as it went through his body. As Juan dodged the Spirit's attack, he waited until the spirit lost all of it's energy, then Juan attacked with the spell of God. The spell finished it, and he went straight up into Heaven. He was greeted by many angels at the Gate, and God sent him back to Earth where he lay on the street. He lived a peaceful life. The End.

21-11-2007, 06:42 PM	#3
4thseal the Brown Join Date: Apr 2007 Location: Never separate me from these stars... Posts: 10,959 My Mood: Rep Power: 56	Re: Literature Competition Archives Short Story Comp #1 Winners: 1st - Enishi, 2nd - Sarah, 3rd - Frostbitex Judges: Yachiru, LONGTIME, Bara Topic: Freestyle Entries: __________________ Now Available! (cover by DarkDays) Exposed #14: Read & Comment Last edited by 4thseal; 21-11-2007 at 06:44 PM.

21-11-2007, 07:08 PM	#4
4thseal the Brown Join Date: Apr 2007 Location: Never separate me from these stars... Posts: 10,959 My Mood: Rep Power: 56	Re: Literature Competition Archives Short Story Comp #2 Winners: 1st - zoeygirl, 2nd - Sarah, 3rd - Insin Judges: Yachiru, LONGTIME, 4thseal Topic: Freestyle Entries:

21-11-2007, 06:10 PM	#1
4thseal the Brown Join Date: Apr 2007 Location: Never separate me from these stars... Posts: 10,959 My Mood: Rep Power: 56	Monthly Contest Archives Poetry Comp #1 Winners: 1st - LONGTIME, 2nd - Yachiru, 3rd - Juno Judges: Akiia, Rie Topic: Life and Death Entries: __________________ Now Available! (cover by DarkDays) Exposed #14: Read & Comment Last edited by 4thseal; 21-11-2007 at 06:44 PM.

21-11-2007, 06:21 PM	#2
4thseal the Brown Join Date: Apr 2007 Location: Never separate me from these stars... Posts: 10,959 My Mood: Rep Power: 56	Re: Literature Competition Archives Poetry Comp #2 Winners: 1st - Sarah, 2nd - Muskrat, 3rd - Fresh1 Judges: Ai, Yachiru, LONGTIME Topic: Animals Entries: __________________ Now Available! (cover by DarkDays) Exposed #14: Read & Comment