Story Contest: The Dead DO Tell Tales

[Meiscool-2]

Judges - Meiscool - Tomi - Empty

I'm going to attempt to bring back the contests.

---------------------------------------------------------------

I figured I would make a second type of contest where the more writing than graphically tallented may show their skills.

The rules are simple. I'll show a few screenshots showing various pictures. It's your job to come up with as creative of a story as possible using one of the pictures. The only thing I require is that you tell me which picture you are using, and that you follow a specific theme in your writing. The theme of this contest is death. This means that your writing must somehow involve death, be it people dying, war, a funeral, famine, ect. Some pictures will be easy to make a story up about death, some will be a bit more difficult. I will keep this in mind while I am judging your stories. A few more rules are:

Stories cannot be more than 1000 words. It shouldn't ever get to be more than that, but I'm including it because I don't want to read a freaking huge fable. These are ment to be short stories.
You may only enter one story. If you wish to change your story, you may post a new one. I will only rate the most recent post you made.
If a screenshot has already had a story made about it twice, you cannot use that screenshot. This is made to both pressure you into making your story before others, and to ensure that I'm not reading about the same thing over and over. If all screenshots have been used twice already, you may choose whichever one you want. I will take into consideration which screenshot you use while I'm making my ratings, but a great writer can make anything work

If you're planning on making a story for a map and are concerned that the screen will already have been used twice by the time you have finished your story, you can call "Dibs" on the screen. Dibs will stay effective for three hours. After the three hours are up, the screen is fair game again. You may only call Dibs once.

Here are your screenshots to use. Yeah, they're from my game. Deal with it.
#1

#2

#3

#4


Enjoy. If anyone has any suggestions or ideas to make this contest better/flow more, please suggest. This contest was made sorta on an impulse, so some things might seem unplanned or put together funny.

Writing a story can be fun and doesn't take much time, so make sure to enter!

[Dragoon de Sol]

I got Dibs on #4

[A Forgotten Legend]

"But what happened to that town you lived in?"

"No one was left but me.  There was no warning.  No one knew what was coming.  It was our town's darkest hour.  They came in mid-day.  It caught everyone off-guard.  They started with the woman at the well... they hung her with the rope used to pull up the bucket of water from inside the well.  Then they went over and crushed that one guy or girl or would sell you fruits... I couldn't tell anymore what they're were anymore..."

"But who did all of this?"

"It was the Order of Meis.  Our town was protected by the Military becuase of the precious supplies here, they were very friendly with us, giving us needed supplies, fixing roof's...  but one day, they just stopped.  They packed up and left.  And then, the Order came and took everything, giving it away in neighboring towns and cities... and once evrything was gone they... they..."

"Its okay, you don't have to talk about it anymore."

"Everytime I hear a stock break, or the steps creak, I think they are coming for me..."

"No one's coming for you."

"I know... its just... the sights I saw... they just..." as they finish they're conversation, they hear a step creak.

"What was that?"

"I dunno."  the lights went out.

"Do you think...?"

"I'm not su..."

"What the he..."  silence had entered the room.


I know, I don't think its too good.  Oh well.  I hope this contest doesn't end up like that mapping contest.

[Moosetroop11]

Regret glanced around. A stately home. The furnishings screamed power and wealth; it was no surprise that samuel had chosen this battleground.

She brushed her long red hair out of her eyes and listened for a whisper of a footstep or a breath. The luxurious blood carpet that ran thoughout the building, an aspect that she would have normally counted as a blessing, was here a curse- the man could be anywhere, and move anywhere silently. A dark shadow of paranoia hindered her movements.

Immediately in front of her was the stair, and beyond it, the lights gave out. She waited a moment in the torchlit ground floor, trying to steady her breathing, one hand on her samurai sword hilt. Was it worth casting a light spell into the shadows? It seemed likely that he was hiding in the darkness above, waiting for her to ascend before springing an ambush.

Suddenly her sensitive eyes picked up the glint of light upon metal and she swung around, her green cloak circling her as she met Samuel's blow with her own blade. He grimaced, clearly disappointed at the failed surprise - that was to be expected. Regret was unmatched at combat in close quarters.

"We finally meet, Samuel" she remarked quietly, meeting another blow and swinging her sword at his legs, forcing him to leap into the air. His feet collided with a rich, wood panelled wall and he pushed off of it, twisting and striking her again. She met each attempt with an efficient parry. "You gave quite the chase. Why did you finally stop here?"

"I was sick of running" remarked the blonde haired man, striking hard in an attempt to loosen her grip on her weapon. "I knew you would never stop. I feel as though I've known you forever."

"When we've never met face to face? I'm afraid I can't return the compliment. I'll only be happy when you're dead, Samuel."

Regret had stepped back into a passageway, with a flickering torch just behind her. Her opponent chose this time to catch his breath. She sneered. "You're hardly living up to the legend so far. They say you can never die."
"And they say you can never be beaten" Samuel retorted. "Clearly one conception will be laid to rest tonight."

The two clashed swords again- neither of their blows had lost potency yet, the impact travelling up Regret's slender arm. She ignored it and thrust her hand out, bringing magic to bear for the first time in the battle; a harrowing gust of wind sweeping down the corridor, extinguishing a few of the torches lining the walls and throwing the man off of his feet. She followed him as he fell and struck with her blade but he was prepared, managing to deflect it and hitting the carpet at a roll. Then he was up again and back on the offensive, battering her with repetitive blows and then shouting,  releasing a ring of fire from his body which spread outwards. She jumped and evaded most of the the spell, wincing as the heat passed her and smelling singed hair. Then she landed on the ruined carpet and smiled.

"I had no idea you'd schooled in magic."

The man grimaced. "You've seen nothing." Suddenly he raised his hand and the panels of the wall began ripping off and flying at her. Regret walked forward confidently, eyes darting to and fro, striking panels and torch fittings into matchwood. On some parts of the carpet, fires were spreading merrily now, bourne from Samuel's angry attack. The only safe area was directly around the two fighters, where all of the carpet had burnt away entirely to reveal a hard wearing protected wood floor. The woman reached her target and attacked again, driving him back.

"Your moves are perfect" Samuel managed to smile. "reminds me of fencing lessons as a kid."
"This one won't end quite the same way" Regret commented. She spotted one of the loose panels on the floor, now merrily ablaze. Sidestepping and blocking Samuel's blow, she clenched her teeth, sliding her foot underneath the panel and kicking it up into his face. He cried and stumbled backwards, falling into the fire. She stamped her foot, trying to ignore the pain, and then swung around to face her grounded opponent. The fall had winded him and his sword had flown from his hand and was a couple of meters away. He knew that there was no point getting up now.

"I'm sorry Sam" she smiled. I think we would have been friends if things had been different."
Sam nodded. "I like to think so."

Regret drove her sword expertly between his ribs and through his heart.

Then as the smoke began to rise, she theathed her blade and bowed low.

[Dragonium]

#4

"Damn, are you sure this was worth it?"

Garlos stretched up, becoming a silhouette against the sun. The breeze ruffled his hair, the hair that badly needed cutting, and the sun glistened in the stubble that had grown on his square chin. It had been a long journey, far too long, and more than anything he wanted to get back home and rest. Nevertheless, he was smiling.

He stood for a moment at the top of the cliff, and looked out over the dry plains. Everywhere was devoid of life; the only thing growing was the grass that waved side-to-side in the breeze, and even that was parched and yellow. There might have been animals living under the scattered rocks, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Someone hauled themself up the narrow mountain path behind, and Garlos turned. It was Ahn, his colleague for this trip; he was a taller, skinnier man, with long brown hair drawn back in a ponytail, and a look of grim exhaustion on his face.

"It's too hot here", he gasped, sweat running down his brow, "And did we honestly have to come all the way up this mountain?". He stumbled as he reached the summit, let go of the heavy pack he had been dragging behind him for the best part of the journey, and fell on the floor in a heap, to be covered by a cloud of dust.

"Don't make such a fuss, brother", Garlos laughed. "We're here, so you can take a break".

Ahn looked up from where he lay in a heap of dust and grey robes. "This is it?", he asked, his voice trembling with exhaustion.

"Looks like it, doesn't it?", Garlos chuckled again. "Nothing else here, unless we've come to look at grass and rocks".

Ahn sighed, still panting like a thirsty animal, and sat up. "I thought it would be bigger", he said, reaching for the flask that he had stashed in the rucksack, and taking a much needed drink of water. "Grander", he added.

Both men looked up in unison at the structure before them. The main part of it was a large tower-like building before them, made of yellow sandstone. There were a few awnings here and there, of old fabric the same colour as the stone, which looked as if it might crumble in a stiff breeze. There was a similar-looking outhouse some way to the right, but it was not this that was the point of interest. Ahn stood up.

"Well", he sighed, still mopping the sweat from his brow, "This is where the Black Guard used to be". Garlos had wandered to one of the windows and peered into the darkness, but turned to Ahn with a look of puzzlement, and interest. "You know the story", Ahn continued. "The Kingdom of Tirol is a long way north, but it used to be an extension of Birzan, to the south. When the King of Birzan was passing through here to go and seize territory in the north which would later come to be Tirol, he ordered his best soldiers, ten men and ten women, to stay here, build a tower and live inside it, which would act as a rear guard to protect Tirol".

Garlos smiled. Ahn knew the story by heart, and it had been told many times over the course of the journey.

"Of course", Ahn sighed, drinking from his flask again, "They're all dead now. I'm sure you've noticed". He kicked one of the skulls that was at his feet, embedded into the sand; one of those brave warriors who had made it his duty to protect his King, and who now lay among several of his colleagues in the dry, dead earth. "I suppose", Ahn continued thoughtfully, "You can't just make people hole up in here, in a dry empty place like this, and expect them to live forever".

"Obviously", Garlos smiled. He walked over to the curtain at the front of the building, and, looking cautiously up at the structure, drew it back. There was only a thick darkness inside, and since he could not see within, put the curtain back.

"What do we do now?", Ahn asked tentatively. He was not looking forward to the long, thirsty walk back - but nevertheless the loneliness, the sense of forboding of the tower, and the company of several skeletons of these fallen soldiers made him nervous.

Garlos smiled, and Ahn's heart sank as he knew what his brother was about to insist.

"Let's go inside", the larger man said eagerly.

"But...". Ahn could not find the words. There was something about the tower; it was not a feeling of evil, for this was not a dark presence, but nonetheless it was an aura of emptiness, loneliness, and depression. Something about it was not right. Still, Garlos was not a man to resist the urge to do anything.

Ahn stood, and went grudgingly to Garlos' side.

With one last look out over the dried-up plains, with their absence of life, both men went into the darkness of the Tower of the Black Guard.

[Phayre]

Dibs on 3.
I'll be back. Mwahaha.
Edited because I got mixed-ed up.

[aboutasoandthis]

Why exactly is there a dibs rule? I think you should be able to do what you want. That's why I didn't enter your first one.

The girl committing suicide almost ruins it, but I think I'm doing number 2.

[Phayre]

#3

Catherine closed her eyes, wishing, not for the first time, that she was somewhere else. The house, big as it was, was strangling her, it seemed, but the outside was worse. Everyone knew about the incident. She could tell, just by looking at them, the disgust in their eyes as they stared at her.

Her brother sat in silence across from her, with that awful quizzical look on his face. It never seemed to leave, not lately, at least.

"Don't look so sad," he murmured, lifting his head. His soft, lightly accented voice made the house feel even deader in contrast. Catherine shivered and turned from the window to meet her brother's mischievous smile.

"Don't be idiotic," she shot back. "Why don't you just.... go away, Nicholas."

Nicholas laughed and rose, as if to approach Catherine, but stayed where he was, eyes trained not on his sister but on the grand staircase at the end of the hallway. Catherine turned, following his gaze, and shook her head.

"Stop it," she pleaded. "Just--"

"Go away?" Her brother grabbed her hand and tried to pull her toward the stairs. He was stronger than Catherine had remembered, and the manic glint in his eye was even more evident now. She found herself again, at the foot of the stairs, shaking more than she had even more than the day it had happened. "I really don't care to go away. After all, I have something of yours."
Catherine watched, horrified, as Nicholas drew a rapier out of thin air. It was the very same, she knew, the same exquisite patterns along the hilt and silver-toned blade.

Nicholas threw his head back and laughed, as if they were just playing some stupid game, as Catherine's eyes went wide. "Well? Don't you want it back, Catherine?" He presented it to her regally, as if knighting a faithful servant.

"Get out."

"But you're so good with it. You want it to go to waste? How sad... I did pick it out just for you."

"This was a mistake. I shouldn't have--"

"Just take it!" Nicholas was angry now, his rich brown eyes suddenly bright. His fist tightened around the sword. "What makes you think you can walk away from this? Hmm? What makes you think that I'll go away just because you refuse to admit--"

"Just go back!" Catherine swallowed hard and threw herself away from her brother, just as he held the sword out attack. A cold breeze enveloped her, and only once it was gone did she open her eyes.

She was alone, alone again, left only with the corpse of her brother and the sword still lodged in his chest, where she had left it.


[sorry about the delay, power outage]

[Meiscool-2]

Originally posted by aboutasoandthis
Why exactly is there a dibs rule? I think you should be able to do what you want. That's why I didn't enter your first one.

The girl committing suicide almost ruins it, but I think I'm doing number 2.

I put the reason up there as to why I don't want people able to choose which one they want completely freely. I don't feel like reading about the same details and such over and over, which is why I sorta "force" people to choose ones that havn't been done yet.

Also, Draggy, your story is 854 words, so you don't have to worry about it being above the 1000 like you thought it was

[Prpl_Mage]

Picture nr 4.

I walked past the plains and looked up at the mountains standing nearby. My army at my back, young as they were.
My Father had told me to stay behind and gather all of his people who wished to defend their land, this was all that I was able to get.
We lost a generation back then, only children and old people remain now. My band of conscripts will be nothing more than a burden to my fathers trusty army but this was his wish.

My horse seemed scared as we got near the mountain town of Jhargah were my Father had told me to meet him. This made me uneasy but I wouldn´t let my troops see that, I was the only person leading them, any uncertaincy of mine would cause the moral to fall and crash.

"Grab your weapons folks, and stay sharp!" I told them and nervous voices was exchanged in the back row.

She walked the cobbled path, my horse of course. And once we got past the ledge I saw the cause of her nervousity.
Lying before me was the bodies of townspeople and soldiers.
I saw the cut and the position of the bodies and was able to determine that the soldier had protected the villagers and been cut down as he tried.
I moved on and saw the body of a horse on top of another soldier, by the look of things it must have tripped on the ledge and falled down.

"Spread out and look for survivors! But stand your guard."
I shouted and my men started to move around checking the bodies.

I continued to move and finally found a sign of the attackers, a pile of bone on top of a rock, the skull intact and with a distant glow. At that sign I spun around and noticed more of them almost everywhere.

"Men! Don´t tuch the rotten corpses!"
But just as I said it I could see one of the foolish peasants reach down and poke his sword at one of the skulls, hell broke out as every last of them began to rise up, enchanted with necromancing magic to replace the lost limbs.

I unsheated my sword and bashed the one behind me to get the advantage and then drove it through the skull to return its peace.
As I saw that we were loosing I called upon the heavens to aid us in this battle, I prayed deeply and I was rewarded for it as the cloudy sky opened and a light shone down at the center of the town square.

"Fall back to the square! The light will bless us!" I yelled as hard as I could and then ran to the center. A throng of boned warriors came nearer and nearer, my own conscript army standing inside the light to guard themsleves and waiting for the undead to move.
"Spears and shields to the front row, we will not lose agaisnt these unholy creatures!" And we formed a circle of shields and pikes around us, ready to defend ourselves from them.

And the fighting went on as every time one of us fell, an undead took it´s place. In the end, only I remained with a couple of fifty,  and I kicked the last of them of my sword making the skull stop glowing.

"We must return home... The lord has fallen and our troops is weak." One of them said.

"Yes, my Father is indeed gone, and we are only few. But the light still shines on us... Take his flag as we shall carry on, we are blessed by the light and shall not fail!"

[Meiscool-2]

Good turnout so far. 5 stories, that's great.

Anyways, if anyone reads this, and doesn't plan on entering, and would like to be a judge for this contest; PM me. Gemini and Rowan arn't  that active anymore, and I don't feel like hunting them down to do this.

The screens stand at:

1 - 1
2 - 0
3 - 2
4 - 2

So, if you enter now, you must do either screen 1 or screen 2, because 3 and 4 have been taken twice.

And about, I look forward to your story. You're a good writer

[Dragoon de Sol]

And I called dibs on four too >.>

[A Forgotten Legend]

Originally posted by lucas_irineu

Dibs will stay effective for three hours.

[/B]

lol.

[aboutasoandthis]

Originally Posted by Meiscool
 

And about, I look forward to your story. You're a good writer

Aw...now I feel all warm and fuzzy inside...  

 It should be 995 words. I cut out a lot so be happy.

#2

I don’t often question my job. Every trial is an opportunity. My name is Brett Nickels. I am a criminal defense attorney for the Accolai & Associates Firm in Chicago, Illinois and I’ve been working with them for over two years. I used to be one of those “if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you” attorneys. I was given my first real case on October the 7th and it seemed like a given.

I was instructed to present a case for a Mr. Fred Walters. He was charged with four accounts of murder, six accounts of kidnapping, and rape. I admit, I expected some thug who had lost his mind. When I walked in to meet with him, I was greeted with a man around his late forties, and clean cut. He looked as if he had been crying for a long time. He didn’t look like a criminal. Most of the convicted I’ve worked with had remorselessness in their eyes. There was honesty in his. He looked… human.

I spent several days examining Mr. Walters. When given, he answered all my questions. He was very polite, if not scared at what was going on. I learned that Mr. Walters was a working on a “plant restoration” project. They were attempting to create a virus, introduce it into the mitochondria, and have it restore the plant without mutation. Mr. Walters said that he had been working on the project for over two years. After questioning to his co-workers, it was a reasonable alibi.

Mr. Walters was once married to an Allison Walters, divorcing exactly two years ago. He has three children, all in their early twenties. She attended in support for Mr. Walters. There didn’t seem to be any tension between the two. It was as if they were still very close and happy.

The beginning of the trial had come. I had figures and charts, alibis, and justifiable witnesses. I thought I had the case set. People filled every aisle of the courtroom. Everyone was chatting, in anticipation of the case. Mr. Walters had a lot of support behind him. I could see his three children. The resemblance was obvious. I had met several of his co-workers prior to the case. His family sat behind him.

I adverted my head a little to look around the room. The prosecution held a surprising number of witnesses. Most of them seemed to be young adults. Unlike everyone else in the room, they were quiet. It was as if something had been taken from them. Their stares could incite your imagination. Their faces lied somewhere between anxiety, anger, and regret.

The trial went on, each of the prosecution’s witnesses presenting their testimony with similar story. They say they were lured into a well-furbished and very comfortable building. They each remember seeing lights from the city shine through the windows and the broken segments of the ceiling. Some of the children proclaimed to have seen the murders. They cited poisonings, hangings, and even decapitations in the building.

As the days went by, the logic in their testimonies seemed to falter. None could completely identify Mr. Walters after cross-examination. Each case, while slightly radical, had a single detail. They each described a single distinct smell, citrus. The witnesses each said the smell drew them into the building. Even my extensive questioning, they remained adamant with their testimonies. Every child called held that regretful face.

 After the children and the other witnesses gave their case, it came time to examine my client. Turning to him, I could see that same innocence in his eyes. His family cheered him onward. He was escorted to the side of the Judge, he gave his oath, and the prosecution began. The plaintiff started with a few questions such as his work as a botanist. As I’ve told you before, he was working on a pathogen made to restore plant life.

To finish, the plaintiff did something strange. He brought out a plastic bag with a strange purple fruit inside. When Mr. Walters saw the fruit, he jumped out of his seat. The opening of the bag caused a citrus smell to fill the air. The children stood at attention. Mr. Walters especially focused on the fruit. He watched the fruit, as if nothing else was around him. That innocence had left his eyes…

I stood up to examine Mr. Walters. I was at a crossroad. I did not want to lose this case, but I had little to no respect for Mr. Walters then. After examining him, he revealed details that could’ve linked him to the murders. I questioned him on and on, in an effort to defend him. He revealed that he had a certain “love” whom wasn't his wife. When I questioned him about this lover, time itself came to a halt

He stated that he did not commit the murders, but that his lover did. Several, including my self looked to Allison. Mr. Walters again stated that she was not the lover. Mr. Walters fell into a riot, proclaiming this “new love” had taken him into a “new place of happiness.” He even admitted to recognizing some of the children. He stated that his “new love” brought in young children so that they might “share their love.” He stated that his lover, in order to “keep beautiful,” needed to “feed.” When I asked him to reveal this new lover, he pointed to the bag, or rather the fruit inside.

The spirit those present had seemed to die. Every witness I called to defend him remained silent. There was no hope for him. There was no reason to hope. I turned my head to look at his face. Those innocent eyes returned…

It was then I realized something. Mr. Walters believed this “lover” committed the murders. All innocence is seen through the eyes of the beholder. Through those human eyes of his, he was innocent.

edit. I noticed a little goof up. It should be 995 words again.

[Phayre]

o.o
Simply put: writing on little sleep, kept awake only by coffee and ice cream, and going up against people who know better than staying up all night= Phayre LOSES! Loses BADLY!