QK Round 1: WEEL versus Lumanatti
Entry Nickname: WEELTitle: Who's Eating Eric Lynch?
Word count: 119K
Genre: Adult Horror
Query:
Schizophrenic Eric Lynch’s hallucinations are actually precognition. Enter a demon who absorbs supernatural powers, and Eric’s about to become demon chow—unless he can convince a group of rogue angels that his deadbeat ass is worth protecting.
It all starts the night of a failed suicide attempt. After coming face-to-face with the physical manifestation of his nightmares, a half-decomposed manticore with black fur, Eric decides the only way to stop seeing demons is by closing his eyes for good. But unfortunately for him, he can’t do anything right—not even suicide. Fast-forward seven years later, and he’s still not sure what it is about him that demons find so interesting. Being a college drop-out, working for minimum wage at a retail store, trying his best not to end up back in the asylum for a third time…it’s not like he’s next in line for winning the Nobel Prize. So why him?
Well, okay. Maybe it’s because not only can he see the future, but he can control time too. Prophet is what the angels call him. And apparently there hasn’t been a Prophet on earth for over a century. Pretty cool, huh? Wrong.
The precognition, the time manipulation—that’s exactly what makes him so appetizing. The only reason the manticore hasn’t eaten Eric yet is because it’s waiting for Eric’s powers to ripen. Which means, in the meantime, Eric’s only hope for salvation lies with a group of rogue angels. Angels who might use his Prophetic powers to fulfill their own agenda.
Angelic weapon or prime rib? Either way, Eric is pretty screwed.
First 250 words:
They say the human brain can survive for three seconds after decapitation. I’m talking full-blown cognizant thought, where you can move your mouth and blink your eyes. It makes you wonder what kind of expletives might shoot through your head, especially when you see your body lying on the floor beside you. And hopefully it’s not one of those embarrassing situations where your head goes rolling across the carpet, because then your final moments are nothing but dizziness, trying to puke from a stomach no longer attached to your mouth.
A few months ago one of my psychiatrists asked me what I think about when I have nothing else on my mind, most notably when trying to fall asleep or while taking a shower. According to her, low brain activity is a subconscious beehive ready to burst. She believed my inner musings might be to blame for my tipping sanity—at the very least my insomnia—and it was only a matter of time before I was stung by another violent impulse.
“Maybe we’ll finally figure out why you’re a total nut-job, Eric,” she had said at the end of our last meeting, and proceeded to pat me on the knee, laughing.
She was such a bi—…nice lady.
That night they found her bloody corpse sprawled across her living room floor. The reports said her body looked like it was mauled by a giant cat, her head ripped off. A week after the investigation, her husband found her missing head inside their microwave.VERSUSEntry Nickname: LumanattiTitle: LumaWord Count: 90,000Genre: YA Horror
Query:
Abbey and her best friend, Callie, had countless adventures at Majestic Isle, until an accident closed the island amusement park. When seventeen-year old Abbey hears an underground club has popped up amid the broken down roller coasters and rusty bumper cars, she drags Callie out for the night of their lives.
Unfortunately, it might be the last night of their lives.
The club isn’t the haven for misfits Abbey hoped for – it’s a buffet and the club goers are the main course.
What was once an innocent sanctuary of fun is now home to something dark and sinister.
If Abbey and Callie survive the night, they may find they are the key to stopping an infestation of creatures with an insatiable appetite for human flesh.
First 250 Words:
An ocean of bodies moved like seaweed across the warehouse floor. It might have looked as though they were drowning except for their rhythmic movement that fused with the beat. Some looked as though they’d accepted their fate as they swayed back and forth, while others seemed to fight the inevitable. Their arms flailed about, their faces contorted with exertion as they gasped for a last breath. At least that’s how it looked to the eyes watching from above.
In the center of the floor, Abbey tilted her head back and danced. She raised her arms over her head and her long, periwinkle hair drifted with her movements. Blue and green lights bounced through the smoky air, pulsing with the rhythm of the music. Bodies brushed against hers, but she didn’t mind. Here, dancing among hundreds of others, she fit in. She belonged. No one could take that away from her.
“We need to go,” Callie yelled in her ear.
A stab of irritation shot through Abbey and her eyes flew open. She missed the beat of the song, which caused a ripple in the dancers around her. Callie was upset, though only someone who’d known her since third grade would be able to pick up the telltale signs: twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger; the flush high on her cheekbones. Abbey’s irritation faded as quickly as it came. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Can we go, please?”
“Did you and Eric have another fight?” Abbey didn’t want to leave, not yet.
Word count: 119K
Genre: Adult Horror
Query:
Schizophrenic Eric Lynch’s hallucinations are actually precognition. Enter a demon who absorbs supernatural powers, and Eric’s about to become demon chow—unless he can convince a group of rogue angels that his deadbeat ass is worth protecting.
It all starts the night of a failed suicide attempt. After coming face-to-face with the physical manifestation of his nightmares, a half-decomposed manticore with black fur, Eric decides the only way to stop seeing demons is by closing his eyes for good. But unfortunately for him, he can’t do anything right—not even suicide. Fast-forward seven years later, and he’s still not sure what it is about him that demons find so interesting. Being a college drop-out, working for minimum wage at a retail store, trying his best not to end up back in the asylum for a third time…it’s not like he’s next in line for winning the Nobel Prize. So why him?
Well, okay. Maybe it’s because not only can he see the future, but he can control time too. Prophet is what the angels call him. And apparently there hasn’t been a Prophet on earth for over a century. Pretty cool, huh? Wrong.
The precognition, the time manipulation—that’s exactly what makes him so appetizing. The only reason the manticore hasn’t eaten Eric yet is because it’s waiting for Eric’s powers to ripen. Which means, in the meantime, Eric’s only hope for salvation lies with a group of rogue angels. Angels who might use his Prophetic powers to fulfill their own agenda.
Angelic weapon or prime rib? Either way, Eric is pretty screwed.
First 250 words:
They say the human brain can survive for three seconds after decapitation. I’m talking full-blown cognizant thought, where you can move your mouth and blink your eyes. It makes you wonder what kind of expletives might shoot through your head, especially when you see your body lying on the floor beside you. And hopefully it’s not one of those embarrassing situations where your head goes rolling across the carpet, because then your final moments are nothing but dizziness, trying to puke from a stomach no longer attached to your mouth.
A few months ago one of my psychiatrists asked me what I think about when I have nothing else on my mind, most notably when trying to fall asleep or while taking a shower. According to her, low brain activity is a subconscious beehive ready to burst. She believed my inner musings might be to blame for my tipping sanity—at the very least my insomnia—and it was only a matter of time before I was stung by another violent impulse.
“Maybe we’ll finally figure out why you’re a total nut-job, Eric,” she had said at the end of our last meeting, and proceeded to pat me on the knee, laughing.
She was such a bi—…nice lady.
That night they found her bloody corpse sprawled across her living room floor. The reports said her body looked like it was mauled by a giant cat, her head ripped off. A week after the investigation, her husband found her missing head inside their microwave.VERSUSEntry Nickname: LumanattiTitle: LumaWord Count: 90,000Genre: YA Horror
Query:
Abbey and her best friend, Callie, had countless adventures at Majestic Isle, until an accident closed the island amusement park. When seventeen-year old Abbey hears an underground club has popped up amid the broken down roller coasters and rusty bumper cars, she drags Callie out for the night of their lives.
Unfortunately, it might be the last night of their lives.
The club isn’t the haven for misfits Abbey hoped for – it’s a buffet and the club goers are the main course.
What was once an innocent sanctuary of fun is now home to something dark and sinister.
If Abbey and Callie survive the night, they may find they are the key to stopping an infestation of creatures with an insatiable appetite for human flesh.
First 250 Words:
An ocean of bodies moved like seaweed across the warehouse floor. It might have looked as though they were drowning except for their rhythmic movement that fused with the beat. Some looked as though they’d accepted their fate as they swayed back and forth, while others seemed to fight the inevitable. Their arms flailed about, their faces contorted with exertion as they gasped for a last breath. At least that’s how it looked to the eyes watching from above.
In the center of the floor, Abbey tilted her head back and danced. She raised her arms over her head and her long, periwinkle hair drifted with her movements. Blue and green lights bounced through the smoky air, pulsing with the rhythm of the music. Bodies brushed against hers, but she didn’t mind. Here, dancing among hundreds of others, she fit in. She belonged. No one could take that away from her.
“We need to go,” Callie yelled in her ear.
A stab of irritation shot through Abbey and her eyes flew open. She missed the beat of the song, which caused a ripple in the dancers around her. Callie was upset, though only someone who’d known her since third grade would be able to pick up the telltale signs: twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger; the flush high on her cheekbones. Abbey’s irritation faded as quickly as it came. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Can we go, please?”
“Did you and Eric have another fight?” Abbey didn’t want to leave, not yet.
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