TS Story Contest - Revived

[Fenris]

The Sight Story Contest

Here's a chance to pit your creative writing skills against those of other's, your imagination against someone else's, 'tis a war of words. =P

Also, it;s a chance to enjoy yourself, maybe writing about a human character, instead of canine, or another animal character. It can be a relaxing change.
You also are awarding post-points for coming in 1st, 2nd or 3rd, which is worth the effort really, considering entering here will take you much less effort than posting all those times. =P

So, here's how it goes:

• Choose a beginning that inspires you the most. Anything goes so be as creative as you like. (Just, please remember, PG 13)
  
  
• First place wins you 15 post points, second winds you 10, and third wins you 5.
  
  
• You have until the end of the month to get your entry in (it won't take you too long, so get your entry in as soon as possible, before you forget!)
  
  
• To save me from reading novels, theres a limit of 4000 words that you can add to the beginning paragraph/s. If you go a little over that's fine, I won't bite your head off. ^^ (700 is about, one page in Word size 12 Times New Roman font. So unless you're like me who likes to write novel-worthy stories, you won't need to worry so much about this rule)
  
  
• I recommend writing your story in Word, or something similiar, that way you have word count, as well as spell-check (cause most of you know what I'm like about spelling and grammar, but don't worry too mcuh about it, it annoys me, but I judge the entries not just on how well they have been written, but on style and ideas)
  
  
• Don't think you have to stick to the obvious of where the beginning seems to be going. =P With a little brainpower, these beginnings can be twisted into whatever plotline you like.
  
  
• And last but not least, have fun! This is meant to get your creative juices running and be an easy and fun way to gain points.
  

So here we go. good luck ^^




1. The moon whispered down from the velvety heavens above, its cool light caressing the earth with tentative fingers. The willows creaked and the water rippled in the bittersweet night breeze of the summer season that now reigned across the lands. Tall blades of grass gave way under its breath, and its quiet voice whispered of dark happenings deep within the kingdom. The stars that twinkled up above could have no idea, not even the moon seemed aware as they shone on eternally in the night sky. The shadows however, dancing fretfully down below on the forsaken earth, they seemed to understand. For beings with dark hearts had been using them as covers for their wretched deeds for too long. It was only a matter of time before their wicked plan was complete.
Word Count: 132



2. Sunlight filtered through the crack in the ragged curtains, rudely shining brightly on my sleeping face. I groaned, rolled over in my bed and pulled my covers over my head. The sun had no right to wake me up, I didn’t care if it was daytime, I didn’t care that most people were already up and about. I could have slept on for much longer if stupid Mr Sunshine hadn’t given me a rude awakening. I didn’t want to get up, especially not today.
Word Count: 84



3. The silent figure stood, immovable, on the edge of the cliff. All that lay behind them was a dizzying drop onto the vicious rocks far below that they had scrambled through and over on their mission to get all the way up to this specific point on the high mountain. Further back, the lands lay stretched out, rivers and streams that found their roots in this glorious mountain range tumbled down and weaved their eternal course to the distant seas, their course at the mountain’s feet hidden by the vast and dangerous forest that brooded below. This part of the country had a bad name, the few who called this home were a hardy and stern folk, and those who journeyed here from far away had to have sharp wits and quick reflexes in order to return home to tell the tale.

The figure stood, rigid. The mountain range spread out to either side, all cold grey rock, sheer drops and deadly paths that led to dead ends or could crumble away into nothing under the weight of a single footstep.

The figure raised their head, looking at the huge wall that raised its lofty head before them. A wall that they must get across if they were to reach their goal. The people of this land were hard, unforgiving. Their city was nigh impenetrable. A hand reached out to caress the cold, unflinching wall. This was not the only barrier to overcome.
Word Count: 243

[rafe]

The moon whispered down from the velvety heavens above, its cool light caressing the earth with tentative fingers. The willows creaked and the water rippled in the bittersweet night breeze of the summer season that now reigned across the lands. Tall blades of grass gave way under its breath, and its quiet voice whispered of dark happenings deep within the kingdom. The stars that twinkled up above could have no idea, not even the moon seemed aware as they shone on eternally in the night sky. The shadows however, dancing fretfully down below on the forsaken earth, they seemed to understand. For beings with dark hearts had been using them as covers for their wretched deeds for too long. It was only a matter of time before their wicked plan was complete.

A wolf padded through the clearing, it's ebony and ivory pelt glistening in the silvery moonlight. I looked around for any signs of hatred that I was here; none at the moment. I searched and searched for any emotions, but I found none. This ebony wolf didn't know that I was here, waiting for it to move silently. It lingered silently to the stream that flowed nearby.

I slowly walked up the the wolf and felt the rough, black, matted fur of it. The wolf jumped, and spun around. It's eyes were fierce with madness, ready to attack. I had to hurry and say something before it bite me into two."It's OK, Ebony Wolf. It's okay. . . . ." It really seemed to understand because the fur on it's back slowly went down, centimeter my centimeter. It barked, and some how, I understood it,"UMMMM, my name is not EBONY WOLF like you call me. My name is Cirro, that means the word curl, in the language of Latin or what ever you mann call it. Anyway, I am a female. So just call me Cirro!" It stuck out an ebony paw that glittered in the moonlight. I took the paw, and surprised that I could listen to a wolf talk, I said, "'Wow! Could I talk to the kin of yours all the time?"

She cocked her head with concern. "Yes, you just have to strain to listen, though! All you have to do is bend your lazy ears over to listen. Only you, the Wolf Kin Speaker, or WKS for short, can listen to dogs, wolves, foxes and kin to them and crap." the wolf growled. She looked at me and continued, "Do you have a collar? And what about a leash?" I looked at her, puzzled. "No," I confessed, "I never thought that I could catch one. Can't you just follow me home?" I asked, scared to death that I might not get my new friend to come and live with me.

"How far is it until we meet up with your home, your shelter? What do you people have for shelter?" Cirro asked me. She would never know, so I answered, "A big, thunderous blob of stone, wood, and concrete mixed evenly together and but down as a square." I looked down at her paws on the ground. "Why did you want to know, Cirro?" She cocked her head and growled slightly, "Dunno. You know where I live, don't you?"

"Yes," I said, as a matter of factly. "Okay, let's get going then." I turned around with the wolf following me, Cirro. "Wait, do you want me to call you Cirro?" I asked her. She looked up at my pretty, pale face and barked, "I'd like you to. My family named my that, so I would love it. You could change my name if you'd like to." She smiled sweetly. I just looked down at her, and said, "Okay. Cirro it is then!"

I ran through the forest excitedly. I hoped that I could keep her, because she is so nice and cute. And because I could talk to kins of wolves. My dog just died yesterday from old age, and my other dog died because of getting run over by a train. We let him out, and when we got back she was on the rail road track, all bloody and her body was limp. I cried that night. I prayed and prayed to God, and said this, "God, please let me get a dog. Or a cat. Just one, please, mine died . . . ." And that was that. I've missed those two dogs since then. That is why I've hoped and prayed for a dog or a cat.

A brick house came into view. I looked down at the wolf, and maybe my wolf, my house pet. "That is your shelter? Wow!" Cirro exclaimed to me. "I know that!" I said, then I smiled sweetly. Wow. She is one nice wolf. I hope that Mom and Dad will let me keep my girl! I thought. I wanted to keep her so badly that it hurt me.

"Wait here!" I cried loudly to Cirro. I walked inside the house and saw my active mother on an exercising bike. "Mom," I started to say. "What?" she prompted me. "Ummm. . . . I've found a dog. She is a . . . . black German Shepard. With a white chest." She stopped on her bike and got up. "You know that we've talked about this before! No! Don't bring this filthy beast inside, I just mopped the floor!" my mother said to me. Anger flooded in her eyes. I growled a warning to her, like a dog. "You are not a dog, so don't act like one!"

"Okay, okay, mom, I won't. But I am telling you one thing, she needs me out there. I'm bringing her in!" I stepped to the door, and my mother grabbed my shoulder. "You will not go outside, young woman! You will never bring that stupid, filthy dog in, and I don't care what breed it is!" I flinched at those words. I hated being call young woman, I just hated it!

"No! I need her, and she needs me!" I shoved off my mother's hand and opened the door and ran outside. I ran behind a bush, while Cirro followed me. "What did she say?" she asked me with a crooked smile. I looked at her sadly, and meowed, "No."

"What? She said no? That is imposable!" she growled. I said, "It is possible, just that is so weird for her to say no. She says yes ALL the time!" Cirro opened her mouth to talk, but just then, my mother came out the door, and how we knew, the door squeaked.

My mother came out calling, "Isabella, come here, right this moment! I want you here right now! I've talked on the phone with your father, he is not impressed!" I sighed lightly so that she couldn't hear.

I waited until she was inside to go back in. When I went in, dad was in his chair, earing dinner. It looked good, then I remembered that Cirro needed something to eat.

I slid down into my chair carefully and took a bite of my fresh meat that had been dipped in lemon juices. "Mom--" I began, until my dad cut me off, "No. You will not get that dog!" I slid back into my chair and mumbled under my breath, "Idiots. They don't know what there missing."

My mother whispered to my family, "What did you say, hun?" She looked angry, but she held it in. Her face was pale like a vampire when she said this, not red like a chili pepper like usual. I sighed a relief sigh.

"Nothing," I quickly said. "Nothing," I whispered. I felt sad, so I just said, "I'm full." So I got up from the table and pretended to put my stuff in the sink, which I did. I put the stuff in the sink, grabbed the scraps, and ran outside. They would ask why later, and I would tell the truth. I would not lie.

I ran outside to see Cirro. I feed her the scarps then came inside with a heavy heart. Dad asked, "Where did you go to, Isabella?" I told him, "To feed the dog."

Mom and dad looked at each other, surprised. Mom spoke, "We didn't know that you would be responsible enough. Me and your father will take about it when we go to bed. We will have the answer by morning." I almost cried tears of joy. I might be able to keep Cirro!



In the morning, I ran down stairs to have breakfast. When I came down, Cirro was in the house, clean and looking bright. She was shaggy, wet and velvet like. She had a red collar with her name printed on it, the name "Cirro." They talked about it and said yes!

My mother and father were standing by her. "Happy Saturday, Isabella!" they both screamed. They ran to me and gave me a hug. "What kind of dog is she?" dad asked, booming down at the dog.

"German Shepard mutt," I answered quickly. I loved my parents even more now, because I had a new dog . . . . wolf, really. I just lied to them and said that she was a German Shepard.

Then I remembered something. "How did you know her name?" I asked wildly.

They answered together, "We were going to tell you that we were keeping her, and going to ask you what her name was for a collar, but you were mumbling, 'Cirro!' and stuff like that."

"Oh, okay," I said sternly. I was wondering if I blurted out anything important, then I wondered, 'No.' I turned and told my mom that I was going outside to play with Cirro, my new dog/wolf, and she said that I could.

I went outside to talk to her, and play tug-a-war with her. She was on one side, and I was on the other. Now my life is finally completed after 15 years.

1683 words total

[Sabla]

Err... Since not many other people joined in in this contest, and seeing that I missed the monthly deadline, do you think you can extend it?

[Silvanus]

Me too...seconding what Sabla said. :<

[Yerou ♥ Leaf]

Yeah, please do.

[Fenris]

I knew this would happen.

extention granted. for the same amount of time as i've done for the Banner contest.
31st March.


awh damn. i just lost the game. >.< again.

[Yerou ♥ Leaf]

Thanksies!

[Abbis]

I'll post mine soon. lol. ^.^; Just needs a little more work. And then... It'll be ready to be thrown to the wolves. lol. Yush, I'm so funny.

[Sabla]

The silent figure stood, immovable, on the edge of the cliff. All that lay behind them was a dizzying drop onto the vicious rocks far below that they had scrambled through and over on their mission to get all the way up to this specific point on the high mountain. Further back, the lands lay stretched out, rivers and streams that found their roots in this glorious mountain range tumbled down and weaved their eternal course to the distant seas, their course at the mountain’s feet hidden by the vast and dangerous forest that brooded below. This part of the country had a bad name, the few who called this home were a hardy and stern folk, and those who journeyed here from far away had to have sharp wits and quick reflexes in order to return home to tell the tale.

The figure stood, rigid. The mountain range spread out to either side, all cold grey rock, sheer drops and deadly paths that led to dead ends or could crumble away into nothing under the weight of a single footstep.

The figure raised his head, looking at the huge wall that raised its lofty head before them. A wall that they must get across if they were to reach their goal. The people of this land were hard, unforgiving. Their city was nigh impenetrable. A hand reached out to caress the cold, unflinching wall. This was not the only barrier to overcome.

The figure sighed, then turned to the small crowd behind him, a smile on his face, “Brothers,” he called, “look at how far we’ve traveled, how much we’ve accomplished. Set your eyes across the dangerous and barren terrain that has claimed so many of our kind, and see that we have bravely and courageously crossed it!” He looked to his comrades, “Men, your portraits will hang with glory in the halls of history, for you are all heroes for this feat alone. However, our confidence shall not cloud our vision for triumph. We mush continue. For our colony! For our queen!!"

The army surrounding their leader shouted and beat the ground in approval. They had made it this far, who was there to stop them?! Their bodies moved like a black sea, their voices like a beautiful melody. The leader basked in the glory as one would bask in the sun. then he turned to face this challenge, for confidence was only helpful in controlled amounts.

And so, they began to climb, one by one in a single file, each following in the other’s exact footsteps. Their hands and feet gripped the smooth surface with ease, for this army had sticky pads on each limb, thanks to evolution. These people were used to dangerous adventures, where many did not come back alive. In fact, their colony depended on them. It was a way of life. But life is cruel, and you have to be tough to survive.

Reaching near the top of that treacherous wall, the leader signaled the others to stop. There was a complication he had not foreseen. He cautiously moved forward, scanning the area and sensing the surroundings. There just might be a way through. He turned, announcing the situation to the others and they spread out along the lip of the wall. Their goal lay just inside.

“Heave!” The men pulled together, the lip only moving slightly from the wall. “Heave!” Again, the lip moved, but this time it had moved slightly more. “Heave! Heave! HEAVE!!" The men pulled with all their might, putting everything they had into it, and with their perfectly synchronized last pull, a giant whoosh blew past them, a sticky sweet aroma filling the air. Their senses tingled excitedly at the smell and anticipation of the treasure’s taste. They shuffled anxiously.

“Now men,” the leader said, “you all know the drill; eat only enough to quench your hunger, then it’s back down the tunnels with the rest. Don’t worry about getting back, just follow our path from before.”

“We know what to do, Renlo. Calm down,” one soldier said, stopping beside the leader. “And stop calling us ‘Men’ or ‘Brothers’, you know damn well there’s females among your ranks.” She looked at him fiercely from beneath her helmet. “We can do just as much as you men can. In fact,” she smiled coyly, “if I remember correctly, didn’t I surpass you in our test for commander? The only reason why you had gotten it was because your father was general.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pya.” Renlo said, jaw set and refusing to make eye contact with her.

She laughed lightly at his response. “Sure you don’t, Commander. Sure you don’t.” She then moved back into the line of soldiers.

He exhaled, heart fluttering. God, she was incredible, and invincible, and beautiful. The most wonderful girl he had ever met. But she was also so stubborn, so competitive, so… unreachable. She irritated the hell out of him! But yet, that may be why he liked her so much, maybe even why he loved her.

He looked down the other side of the wall where the treasure laid hidden, watching as the line of soldiers returned back from the depths of darkness, each with a grin and huge crystals on their backs. The gems shone like diamonds and were valued even more in the world they lived in. And as these rows of soldiers passed him, a proud smile grew on his face. They have gotten it this far, and no one had made a move to stop them. It was a true accomplishment.

And then the whole world seemed to crumble as a bright light blinded them all.

The woman shuddered with disgust once she opened her cabinet to find a small army of ants invading her sugar bowl. With a look of anger, she rummaged under her sink through her cleaning supplies. Glass cleaner, toilet cleaner, mousetraps, paper towels, scrub brushes, and -Aha!- Raid!

“RUN!!!" Renlo screamed, taking off back down the wall. The soldiers began to run with terror, no longer in a single-filed, well-oiled machine, but just a scatter of chaos. Renlo grabbed the soldiers he past by, screaming at them to run for their lives before it’s too late. The army turned tail and ran, some still carrying the crystals of sugar, some dropping it and fleeing. Renlo ran along with them, then stopped, realizing that Pya was way behind. “Pya!” he shouted, spinning around. “PYA!”

The woman grabbed the bottle, smiling with vengeance, and turned back to her sugar bowl. She sprayed the poison, not feeling a bit of remorse as she watched the ants squirm and curl up to die. How dare they steal her food and contaminate her sugar! How dare they invade their home! She cackled softly.

A jet of liquid hit him with such a force that he was knocked to the ground, nearly crushing his body into the countertop. Renlo gasped for breath, the poison and its fumes working lightning fast to cripple his ability to move. The pain was so unbearable that it was even impossible to scream. He twitched, spasmed, his body dying while his mind seared with pain and screamed with silence that couldn’t be heard. And then, the poison did its work. And his life, along with all of his army’s, was snuffed out.

The woman cleaned up the dead ants with a wipe of a rag, muttering to herself, and dumped out the bowl. She pulled out another jar from her cabinet, one with an air-tight seal, and refilled that with sugar. Let’s see those ants get into this now. She thought with a smirk and walked away, leaving the corpses of the small heroes buried with sugar in the trash can.
--
A little bitter-sweet don't ya think? Word count(minus the beginning)- 1,057

[Mist]

The silent figure stood, immovable, on the edge of the cliff. All that lay behind them was a dizzying drop onto the vicious rocks far below that they had scrambled through and over on their mission to get all the way up to this specific point on the high mountain. Further back, the lands lay stretched out, rivers and streams that found their roots in this glorious mountain range tumbled down and weaved their eternal course to the distant seas, their course at the mountain’s feet hidden by the vast and dangerous forest that brooded below. This part of the country had a bad name, the few who called this home were a hardy and stern folk, and those who journeyed here from far away had to have sharp wits and quick reflexes in order to return home to tell the tale.

The figure stood, rigid. The mountain range spread out to either side, all cold grey rock, sheer drops and deadly paths that led to dead ends or could crumble away into nothing under the weight of a single footstep.

The figure raised their head, looking at the huge wall that raised its lofty head before them. A wall that they must get across if they were to reach their goal. The people of this land were hard, unforgiving. Their city was nigh impenetrable. A hand reached out to caress the cold, unflinching wall. This was not the only barrier to overcome.

He had first come to this city as a kind of refugee, a leftover from the purge, thinking he would be at least relatively safe inside the foreboding walls. Though the natives of the city did not look kindly on outsiders they also looked on the purge with scorn. Really, who was to say who should live and who should die?

He had heard of their attitude toward the Emperor’s ways and it seemed as good a place as any to go.

The city was large enough for him not to be immediately recognized as a stranger and his northern accent was not so different from theirs – only someone experienced in the differences would be able to tell he was not a native of the city – an Alcrenian.

Wandering the streets that first morning, after having gained some bruises from his first two failed attempts to scale the cold stone walls. Even now they make him shiver – the dark stone forced into a rigid, unforgiving barrier that, in the moonlight looked like the spine of some ancient giant, too tired or too exasperated and depressed with life to continue on; who had just lay down and died. The stone that never warms, even in the heat of the fiercest summer sun.

Pushing all such thoughts away the figure turned his thoughts back to the memories of his first day in Alcren. He had, on the third try, succeeded in scaling the ‘spine’ (as he thought about it after that point), and fixed himself up as best he could. The next problem would be to find a place to stay and work to do. This could possibly be the hardest thing as many store owners or innkeepers would usually find apprentices from their friends’ sons. He had taken a deep breath and strode into the morning foot-traffic of the city as if he had lived there his whole life.

Shaking his head at the memory he realized he had been somewhat naïve then, but he had no regrets. There was no better option at the time – nowhere else to go. His family was dead and he would be hunted in the lower lands. “I’ve gone over this so many times…” He muttered almost silently, the familiar thoughts well-worn and now, useless. Drawing his hood up to shadow his face from even the dim light of the half-moon his face twisted into an expression akin to a sneer. The name “Krenthua” just crossed his mind, conjuring an image of the darkly beautiful woman, but marred by her actions and his experiences.

He had met her a few short weeks after having gotten, with surprisingly little opposition, work as a trader’s helper, loading and unloading laden nimble-footed donkeys.

The trader had never taken on travelers before, and just as the man had come out, ready for unloading, he caught sight of her – her hair black like a starless night or the ethereal sight of moonlight on a ravens wing, and her eyes fathomless dark pools. She had glanced at him – a strong young man with silver streaks in his dark brown hair – and looked away.

He took a deep breath then, and, after shaking his hair over his fur-tufted ears, began to unload the increasingly impatient donkeys.
There were few days after that when he didn’t think of her – holding her image in his mind like a globe made of ice or glass.

The first time they actually spoke she asked him about the silver in his hair, and was delighted to hear that the alluring look had been his since he was a tiny boy. His mother had always said it was a blessing, and that the ring of lighting was a blessing, perhaps an omen of protection. He didn’t tell Krenthua that, though. His mother always had readily believed in omens or prophecies, but now, he could not help but wonder if she was right this time. He had been one of the very few of his people to escape the Emperor’s lunatic “cleansing”.

Krenthua… he had too readily trusted her, and given her his heart. The sneer on his sun-darkened face became even more prominent at the detailed memories of the woman.

One night she had pulled his hair away from his face, revealing his ears, and then had assured him she would tell no one – did not care.

He was foolish enough to believe her.

After work the next day something had told him to go home by an unusual route. He had thought it was just a restlessness, making him go past the shrine and the market place. A short time later he slowed to a halt as his house came into view – guarded by the soldiers wearing the distinctive scarlet and gold uniforms of the Emperor’s “Cleansers”.

A twist of fear jabbed its way into his heart and he turned around and ran back to the trader’s, dodging around slow old ladies with their daily market purchases and leaping over baskets of eggs and fruit. He back tracked his steps so fast he was even surprised. Making sure they had not yet begun to search for him there he grabbed the spare cloak and other items he had left there.

There was nothing more for him in the walled city. He was once more a desperate, hunted fugitive, and he went to the place on the wall he had tumbled over a short ten months before, and re-crossed on the first try, with a few less bruises this time.

* * *

That was eight years ago, and he now was back. He had stumbled on a bandit camp, and, having nowhere else to go had joined them and eventually proved himself to even the most skeptical. The Emperor was growing old, and his rule would soon pass on to others, perhaps even those who would lift the ban and country-wide prejudice off his people. Shaking his head he lifted his head defiantly, thinking that, even if that were to occur, it cannot be depended on. Freedom cannot be waited for, it must be fought for.

He came back to change things. To start a revolution. It is not just his people who have been oppressed, and it is time for that oppression to end. Smiling wolfishly he narrowed his eyes and stared at the wall, as if he could, though force of will, see into the city. His gaze would first fall on Krenthua – but more as a matter of curiosity. She did not matter anymore. His object was higher and bigger; this was not a “simple” matter of revenge, but of change.

Just as, a few moments ago he had raised his hood, filled with bitter memories, he now lowered it, the bright silver in his hair standing out from both the main dark brown and the ashy flecks of grey that gave it the appearance of a mane. He was now known as Lyrn to his men – a nickname taken from the legend of the man who could transform into his choice of a lion or a wolf at will. Tonight he was the wolf.

Lifting his silver-grey eyes to the dark night and young moon he howled, sounding as much like a wolf as any man could – beckoning his men. The time had come…

(1,221 words without the introduction).

[Abbis]

Wow guys, nice work. Hmm... Guess I'm gonna have to keep working on mine, lol.

[Varloc]

Is this contest still on going? o.o;; I have a story I'd like to share..