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Weekly Contests > Week 20! (March 9th - March 15th) DONE

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message 1: by Clare D' Lune (last edited Mar 10, 2009 09:20AM) (new)

Clare D' Lune Hey Everyone!
Sorry I'm late -AGAIN!- but I've been extremely busy preparing for the 10 day vacation I will be going on in two days. Hopefully I will be able to check in now and again during that time, but just in case I wont be able to, I will be leaving Arthur in charge. Talk to you all later!


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Please do not use a story previously used on goodreads. After the week's contest, you are welcome to put it on your profile writings, but please refrain from using stories you have already put on there.

You have until Saturday afternoon to post a story on here. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. Also, please do not discuss stories on here. You must go to Weekly Short Story Contest Discussion for that. This will avoid any clutter and confusion, so that people can simply come on here and read the story, without having to read comments on the story.

This week's Topic is Hope. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. You could write about having hope, a hopeless tale, etc, or just have the word in the story.

Weekly stories must be at least 500 words long to 2,000 words long. (if the whole story won't fit in one post, divide it into two)

Good luck!


P.S. PLEASE say if you would like to have your story on Short Story Galore, if you win. This way it wouldn't take me ages to get your consent afterwards. This includes adding a link to your stories. If you want to have your story on the Short Story Galore, but not the link, just say so.

message 2: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments must.... write.... story.... *bangs head repeatedly on wall*

message 3: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune

message 4: by ~Sunny~ (new)

~Sunny~ | 207 comments i think i'll write one this week, man i've been busy recently! I also just got MORE books out of the library so i now have 35 out and 42 ordered. yes, i know. i read too much, hahaha

message 5: by Chandani (new)

Chandani  (milkduds920) | 311 comments Have... to...write....STORY.... *follows jeeves in head banging action*

message 6: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune wont get the chance cuz I'm be on vacation *Jumps off bridge*

message 7: by [deleted user] (new)

I have the best idea!

message 8: by ~Sunny~ (new)

~Sunny~ | 207 comments oooooooooooh, what is it?

message 9: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments haha, i think she'll prolly just write it, sunny :P

message 10: by Ash (new)

Ash | 5 comments this looks cool!

message 11: by ~Sunny~ (new)

~Sunny~ | 207 comments jeeves wrote: "haha, i think she'll prolly just write it, sunny :P"

i guessed that, hahaha

message 12: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune welcome ash!

message 13: by Kyle (new)

Kyle | 8 comments Haha this is the complete opposite last weeks. You get tired of all the deppressing stories?

message 14: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune haha no, I love deppressing stories, but I also love varity!! Plus you can change just about any word to a depression or happy story : D

message 15: by ~Sunny~ (new)

~Sunny~ | 207 comments hahahaha, i like both, u get to try out new stuff. i don't stick to one genre!

message 16: by Ash (new)

Ash | 5 comments ~Clare~ wrote: "welcome ash!"


message 17: by ~Sunny~ (new)

~Sunny~ | 207 comments If i win i would like my story to go on Short Stories Galore :)

Title: Lies Spawn Hope
Author: Sunny
Words: 817

“Everybody’s here. We can start, if you’ll all shut up,” the voice came from within the depths of the black hood. Everyone fell silent as directed, not many people disagreed with Not, they didn’t fear him, they admired him.

“Blake, what have you done?” I asked.

“Iro and me took down the bodies from the gallows and buried them in the forest, well out of the way. We made sure no one would find ‘em,” Blake answered immediately. I was the only girl in the group of miscreants and one of the smallest but they all listened to me too. I had proved that was a better skilled fighter and Not had appointed me as second in command.

“Good,” Not said, grinning. “ Our beloved king is starting to the feels loss of control, his examples keep disappearing.”

“I stole a sleeping guard’s dagger!” exclaimed Emerson, the youngest of the group at only ten years old.

Not laughed, “Excellent Emerson! He’ll being sorry he was sleeping!”

Each member of the group reported on what activities they had done to discredit the king. The peasants had been overworked and taxed out of what little money they had for generations and we were trying to start a revelation, make the people realize the king was human and that they could get rid of him—whether it was with an assassin’s arrow or a more concordant way.

Finally it was my turn, I was always last. “What about you Kat?”

I grinned, “I did some lovely pictures of the king, getting richer and the poor getting poorer because of it on the West Wall.” The west side of town where were the peasants and working class lived, the people who couldn’t read, “And on the East Wall I put up slogans and another excellent picture of King Josiah.”

“Good,” he said smiling. I was one of the few who could read and write, and I could also draw which meant I got basically the same job each week; graffiti.

“Alright, we need to start some rumors about the king, the nastiest ones you can think of! Spread them as wide as you can, we need to make the outraged, say he’s think of putting on another tax, anything plausible,” Not said enthusiastically, waving his long-fingered hands in the air, gesticulating. “All right, the meetings’ over.”

“Wait a moment, I think Not should share with us what he’s been doing this week,” I said loudly.

Everyone stopped and turned to look fist at me and then at Not. Not still had on the casual smile as usual. “What do you mean Kat?” he asked delicately, but I could see the apprehension in his eyes.

“Well I followed you to your house after the last meeting—“ I was cut off by Not.

“You followed me too my house?!?!?!” he asked, outraged. We held the meetings in the abandoned jailhouse because he didn’t want us to know were he lived.

“Yes, curiosity may have killed the cat but it only brought me some interesting information.” I said, flicking my dark braid over my shoulder.

“Oh really?” he asked. “And what was that?”

“ I watched the house until you left and then I snuck in and had a look around. I found your study and noticed you……… obsession over the exiled prince,” I said.

“What prince?” asked Emerson.

“There were three princes actually,” said Not quietly. “Abraham, Jonathan and Josiah. Abraham died of fever when he was two and left Jonathan to become our king. When the princes were sixteen their parents both died and Josiah immediately exiled his brother, there was no real reason he just wanted the thrown. I found out that the brother died several years ago.

“My father was printer so we had many books including a family tree for our royal family. I found out about Jonathan and then one day somebody pointed out to me that I looked like the exiled prince. Extraordinarily like the prince. So I had the idea to throw this fat, sorry excuse of a king with a myself, a man who’s lived a worker’s life and knows what needs to be done!” Not finished talking and a light burned in his eyes.

I grinned, Not was charismatic and an excellent speaker and he had won them over. They felt even more enamored of him than before.

“So, we’re going to lie to everybody?” asked Emerson eagerly.

“Lies can be good things too!” said Not hurriedly. “In this case; lies spawn hope. Hope for everybody.”

I knew that Not hadn’t told us the complete story from the start because he was worried that we wouldn’t like the idea, that we would think he was conceited, but I knew that they would think it was a great idea. They would all love to be part of a revolution that put a peasant on the thrown.

message 18: by ~Sunny~ (new)

~Sunny~ | 207 comments hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, not sure writing late at night is always the best idea. i sometimes come up with some really good stories that way but i'm not so sure about this one.

message 19: by Kyle (last edited Mar 13, 2009 08:22PM) (new)

Kyle | 8 comments Title: A New Day
Author: John Carter
Words: 932

The neon lights flashed yellow, green, and blue. The city was alive this night, more alive than it had ever been at day.

The people of the city were all out tonight, the pleasant smell of food drifted from every direction, catching unsuspecting tourists in it’s trap. A street band played its snazzy jazz tunes and made it’s $34.26 of the night. Laughing and clapping greeted the brave couples who danced in the street square to the band’s tunes. People gathered to watch the girl who would move, only if you gave a quarter. Vivacity was in the air.

But a single figure did not seem to be getting into the mood of things. She was a spot of black and white in a colored world. She was clothed in dirty clothes, her hair was wild. Life was not in her face, the world was hard and cold to her, the happy people were foolish. She walked through the crowd aimlessly, not knowing or caring about where she went.

The hours passed, the people left.

She remained.

Alone now, she stood in the square. The life of the city was gone. It was asleep now. The moon was shining brightly, it illuminated the city in a milky dimness. She lay on a bench now, her eyes filled with tears.

How could this happen? Why did I have to do it all wrong? I was happy once. I had a life

“I had a life”, she whispered to the darkness.

“But in the end, I think that will be taken away from me to.”

She paused, the darkness seemed to listen. It didn’t judge or question.

She continued, “ I lost everything, my job, my house, even my children. It all started with my husband. I thought he loved me, then he started hitting me. I kept on coming up with excuses for it. He was working to hard, I wasn’t good enough for him. I developed a need for drinking, the only escape from my day to day hell. I might have gone on this way for longer if my husband hadn’t hit one of my kids. I packed my bags and took the kids. The divorce went through and everything was fine, for a while. Then my habit became a problem. I began to spend all my money on it. I started to treat the kids as if I didn’t love them, but that’s not true. I worked night and day trying to provide for my family, I loved my family. I still love my family. Things hit rock bottom when I showed up to work drunk. I lost my job and the owner called child services. They took my children. I was evicted from my house and I took to the streets. I have been here for about four years now. I have no money and I haven’t eaten in five days. If I do get any money I spend it on alcohol. Eventually I will drink myself to death, but no one will care.”

She stopped and yawned, “ Well the night is old and so am I, goodnight night, tomorrow is another day”.
She slept peacefully that night as if a great weight was gone, never had she told of her life

Just before dawn she stirred. There was something in the air, not the smell of food, but a sweet smell like flowers. She opened an eye then another. They were flowers, daphadils by the looks of them. She sat up and looked around, nothing moved in the stillness. She picked them up and inhaled them deeply. There was a note and envelope pinned to the flowers. She opened the note first:

TO: We don’t really know your name(Sorry)
FROM: You don’t need to know that

Last night we were sitting on one of the curbs near the square, we didn’t mean to but we heard every word you said. It seems so easy now a days to judge on appearance, but you are an example of why we should never do that. If you love your family still, then here is your chance to fix it. Enclosed in the envelope is money. What you choose to do with it is your choice. There is a rehab clinic about four blocks from here, you’ll find the money is more than enough. You are a special person, your life can be what you make it to be. I hope you make the right choice. I’m sorry about the mistakes you’ve made, but I am telling the truth when I say that you would be missed by us.

She finished the note, holding back tears. She stumbled up determined to not screw it up this time. She slowly made her way down the empty streets.

Four blocks. Three Blocks. Two Blocks.

She stopped, there was a liquor store in front of her, all she had to do was open the door and she would be inside. Her hand touched the handle ready to make the move. She closed her eyes and thought of her children. The hand left the door.

She walked again, she could see the clinic now. She entered into it and stepped up to the receptionist’s desk.

The employee looked at her and then said, “ Oh yes, you’re the girl they were talking about. They told me you would show up here today”.

She looked at the employee , “ I want my life back”.

“Don’t worry you’ll get it”.

The sun had just peaked over the mountains as she handed over envelope with the $34.26 inside.

It was a new day

message 20: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
Name: Where’s There’s Death, There’s Hope
Words: 1931
Genre: fiction/ hope
By: Arthur
Notes: "Where there's death, there's Hope" is a quote by Bob Hope. My story has “…preserving in pyramid, the soul gone singing, weeping and loving through seventy years.” & “…secluded spot where the body, neglected and forgotten, would quickly give its elements back to air and earth.” which are borrowed from sources.

* * ** * ** * ** ** * * ** ** * * ** ** * ** * ** * *

Where There's Death, There's Hope

Brendan Johnston Smith remained for the moment hunched in his own door frame watching the emergency team leave. Soon finished there was nothing left to do after consoling Mr. Smith when the ambulance was already somewhere on its way to the municipal hospital. The ambulance would be already too late when it got to the emergency.

Brendan hung back to rest for a moment. Then closed the door in his home. Walked a few paces from tiredness, it grew, the tragedy ending his hanging his head over the mantle above the stone hearth left him dizzy. It was not a kind of coldness or a life with warmth but was rest with his head spanned in his arms from his broken pain. He held his marriage band in fingers and slipped it onto the candle stick. It slid until it clinked with his wife’s ring already there. His wife was with uterus cancer when they were prevented to have children. That prevention in their early marriage the cancer returned in her early thirties and taking only months closing Brendan’s dreams.

Pastor Hamlett leader of the community of Christians and colleges rose in protest against experimenting. Christian reformists have performed in protests in their communities when Christians united. They were united as reformists and dreamers. Christians do not have known Catholic values or those Catholic rules and laws of prohibition known in Catholic history and the pope. But they did have insight in investigative media, all over world they have known all kinds of true stories in all the rural parts of the world where they have brought Christianity. In these places like where most all of Hamlett Gilliard’s three years spent as pastor had also spent investigating the Dharma experiments but proved useless. An experimental facility in Vietnam as old as the WWII. This had been closed down during that war. He had no lead to its whereabouts. Until March 12, 2009 when he received a communicated confirmation of the Dharma experimenting facility. In research Hamlett could prove it had come from German scientists mantling SS experiments in the late nineteen-thirties.

Placing themselves in the next existing plane heading for Vietnam Hamlett and his companion Evellyn traveled alone across water.

When they reach they will accompany retired militia Sergeant Thomas James, who knew of topography of Vietnam and could get them to Dharma and its facility. Although it did lie in a devastate remote environment. Dharma was surrounded by miles of jungle and the terrains have few people travel in those wild outback ranges. Minor accidents occur when people go into those unmapped ranges finding the outdated war fields or war machine old roads.

Ngoc had been just a little girl before she learned of the wastelands and facilities of Dharma. Under her experience of getting away and seeing the world it had been something around her, but she reached the proper school age and she realized what Dharma in her forests had been. A lab to create war. A deserted lab empty and forgotten and ever hidden.

Ngoc as a Christian in school wrote a paper report about it, the old facility she knew, describing it as she saw it as a child. Impressed were her peers who took interest and interviewed her. She drew a map collaborating her report.

March thirteenth 2:28 am a black swarm of bees landing on the ground of an old plane field stop in action. The engines go to kill mid stopping. The ground grew heavy. The plane turned racketing on its wheels to a final stop. Pastor Hamlett and Evellyn step out to meet Sergeant James and they shake hands in Vietnam.

Their first meeting was on an air field. They also greeted Ngoc who had been a pretty girl. She felt honored with meeting the Christian Pastor from the other continent. Who had come to see her map she drew which leads to the forgotten facility in Dharma.

Pastor Hamlett listens to Ngoc reliving her story over their breakfast. This discussion was in all possibility to find if safety of going to the facility had been a factor. Sergeant James believed it was safe to try.

The jeep stopped outside Ngoc’s childhood village. Excitedly she pointed with a little lithe pale finger going over the deserted field where she used to go everyday to find flowers. They were fifty miles into a jungle and in an area among unknown hills.

In this field in its middle bedazzled as jewels was a hidden metal floor with a door that opens and it was no surprise that it was no longer locked. They stepped down and went inside through its door.

“It’s dark down here!” Evellyn protested.

James took from his bag four fluorescing flashlights that crank. They each turn on their light. The stairwell led them down a place bare of features but descended into a cavern made hall where darkness began to outbreak the sources of light from the outside sun. The noise of the wild birds diminished into nothingness as they moved deeply into the interior which was only of cavitate reinforcing arches every few ten feet along walls until it ended and then goes in two different opposite directions.

“Do you know why we came down here?” Croaked James in a flustered questioning voice.

“I thought it would be apparent. Yes, they had experimented closing in on making annihilation using some times their own soldier-men or slaves. Quite often they sometimes took animal life, which is why we found this in Vietnam. Would anyone notice the missing animals or people? And yet still where did it lead them?”

“You mean what did they experiment?” James chimed in as he pointed to the right tunnel for them to follow him down it as a group.

message 21: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
“Whatever it was it has been left in secrecy. This place was a total mystery.” Hamlett answered.

The entire interior floor had grates embedded in them to drain water leakage. The hall went in one direction. Into a kitchen styled compartment room where there are shelves enough but they are all empty. There were no cooking wares or utensils and appliances, nor any visible tools. No tables or chair. It was obvious children had stripped it bare years ago. In a sleeping quarter it was bare except details of litter and the feelings of it once containing bunks or mattresses.

In one room was a large metal communication unit long ago demolished and wires stripped of anything that looked like it belonged to the computers.

Certainly anything not fastened down with bolts found useful or productive would not have preserved after an almost seventy years of neglect.

They found uniforms soiled and covered in mold rotten and with filth of decay that stick to their skeletons to the floor.

In one empty room they found the skeletons that had decayed after death and were now without flesh. Preserving in pyramid, the soul gone singing, weeping and loving through seventy years. They were all heaped in a secluded spot where the body, neglected and forgotten, would quickly give its elements back to air and earth.

One man bare of his uniform shirt wore only an undershirt was the only one propped up wearing a hat signaling him as a Major of rank.

Ngoc told of the village children who named these skeletons. They made names up for each as heroes for play but the one with the hat had played as a leader in the playing games. Ngoc then for them sang her song about the leader if he ever was one that made children laugh a little.

“These uniforms are pre-SS Nazis. Before the war, so, it’s hard to tell what they served.”

James nodded. “These were SS uniforms although. That type issued that time was rare. Before the war Nazis believed in the attempt of world dominance.” He told them.

“If this happened before the war it makes me think our government or the other power had something to do with it.” Pastor Hamlett said with a mysterious clause.

James then slouched and clenched up a few slugs from a skeleton. “Assassinations happen willingly during the secret operations of the SS often. These are no ordinary slugs. Maybe to be exact are Russian?”

“”Lord.” Exclaimed the Pastor.

“You think they had been double crossed over something?” asked Evellyn.

“Well, Russia got involved! But would never have gone in favor of the Germans. I do not believe since they addressed the Germans before the war would they have gone and done anything to help the Germans.”

They backtracked to the other end of the facility where they found broken down doors left wide open and again each was striped bare of anything. They found nothing and turned back again. They were about to leave because the facility was empty when Ngoc pointed to the metal portal she saw as a child a number of times but had been until now well hidden under inches of decay and dust.

James returned to the jeep for tools. He brought back what he called jimmy gear. It was a small detonator of explosives. He patted putty around the circle and everyone cleared away from it. The explosion wrecked the door leaving it loose as ripple on water. Then James pulled the remainder of it off with a fancy crowbar.

It had been a tube going straight down and they then climbed down holding its ladder handles. When they reached the bottom they found a surprise for them. The laboratory had been intact and looked the same as it did seventy years ago. It had been sealed off and covered in secrecy all this time.

Hours later Hamlett had retrieved files showing SS documentation success level reports that must have never reached back to their fatherland. Since there was no longer any claim on them he made one. In the name of science. In the name of the father in heaven God he collected the files and they quickly sorted out a mysterious affair that happened a long time ago but that would never have been known. This scientific team had uncovered a cloning mask that replicated the human body to become exact samples from samples of its originals.

When Hamlett announced this to the group James hollered a yahoo in surprise. The Nazis had been defeated. But during the war they discovered life after death with these cloning experiments. A pity they never had the chance to conduct the final experiment that would have led them to their dominance changing world history.

The Nazis had sealed off the file records as they begun being under their attack. It was a fluke of luck the portal remained unnoticed by who ever had been their assassin. If they had ever now known to look for a portal was now even doubtful. Why leave it behind after all these years? This was such a waste and a mistake. It needed to be brought to the publics attention and soon.

Soon their return brought James home. Ngoc had also returned to school where she tried to contain the enthusiasm.

Evellyn and Hamlett returned to their country taking with them the files. Within a short about of time they had sought donations to quickly build the cloning mask laboratory themselves.

Brendan Smith an extensively wealthy man, a billionaire, invested greatly in the enterprise. He it was who saw the first human clone. His wife was the first human cloned product in history. They lived happily ever after.

The End

message 22: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
OK everyone this contest is to the vote. Please go to the poll and vote for this week favorite story. ... If you haven't posted your story, please post it next week, starts Monday!!

message 23: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune wow! great stories everyone! so glad I got a chance to come on before the poll was over! they're awesome...

message 24: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
Hey everyone that was a long week!! Try out this coming new week contest.

Congratulation Pixie!! wins the past week's story topic wither Lies Spawn Hope. Nice!! Pixie will be featured on Story Galore. An entertaining story at that!!

message 25: by ~Sunny~ (new)

~Sunny~ | 207 comments cool!! I'm suprised I thought it wasn't that good!! Thankx guys!!!!

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