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Monthly Short Story Contest
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January 2016 - Castle Challenge
Happy New Year everyone. Now that I have my story finished, I'm looking forward to reading everyone else's.Paws for Effect
From the time Rupert entered the world, he knew he was special. He was royalty – a prince delivered to parents who had long given up hope of an heir. While the gods provided for their every necessity, it seemed as though they refused to give them what they most desired – a son.
Then, one winter morning, the old couple awoke to find their prayers had finally been answered. Little Rupert was so small they feared he wouldn’t survive. However, as the days passed, he grew stronger and stronger.
At first the king and queen kept Rupert under close surveillance within the confines of the castle, but as he grew, they allowed him to venture beyond its walls. He loved to play in the stones that carpeted the ground all around the castle, testing himself to see how far he could toss them. Another favorite pastime was catching a glimpse of his reflection in the bubbling fountain that stood near the castle’s drawbridge.
However, what Rupert loved most was to torment those he considered to be his inferiors. He found it hilarious to rush out from behind the wishing well to frighten poor old Mrs. Cray, the cleaning woman, or to lie in the glade of hairgrass or in the stand of hornwort and wait for some unsuspecting individual to pass by so he could spring up and give them a start.
One day, he did this to both Mrs. Anthias, whose heart wasn’t as strong as it had once been, and Loach, who only wanted some peace and quiet in which to enjoy his lunch.
Hearing of the latest of a long list of Rupert's antics , the villagers decided it was time to go to the king and queen. Surely, being good, kind folks they wouldn’t want anyone mistreated – especially by their son.
“When they understand what he’s doing, they will put a stop to it,” said Loach, with more conviction than he felt.
So, it was decided that he and his brother Gill would go to the king and queen and explain the concerns of the villagers.
They made their way to the castle where they were readily admitted to meet with the royal couple. They were a majestic spectacle in spite of their advance age, and Loach and his brother squirmed as they tried to find the words to present their case.
Mustering his courage, Loach told the King and queen of Rupert’s activities, explaining how he was frightening the villagers.
“Surly you exaggerate,” the king said. “Rupert is just a boy, and you know how boys are. You must remember what it was like.”
“I do indeed, Your Highness,”’ Loach agreed. “But I’m afraid this goes beyond mere boyish pranks. Someone is going to get hurt.”
“Very well, we will have a talk with Rupert,” the king said, but the glibness in his tone suggested otherwise. And so, Loach and his brother left with the certainty they had failed.
Things did change after that, but not for the better. Rupert became increasingly creative with his methods of tormenting the residents of Watershire. They knew, however, they were on their own – they could not expect any support from the king and queen.
As Loach feared, it wasn’t long before Rupert’s actions resulted in someone being hurt. It was Mr. Anthias. Rupert caught him off-guard, ramming him as he raced through the village. It was too much for his elderly system to take and he was soon dead, leaving his wife inconsolable.
When news reached the castle, the king berated himself for not having listened to the warnings about Rupert. Now he had blood on his hands. When Rupert returned to the castle, his parents confronted him, but he merely scoffed at them. When he drew closer to them with a cruel gleam in his eyes, the royal couple shrank back in fear. Rupert sneered, saying “You’re weak. I’m in charge now. I’m a god!”
With that he stormed out of the throne room and tore through the village with maniacal speed. Soon he noted the gods were watching from above, and he knew they wanted him to join them. He was one of them. So he climbed higher and higher in an effort to reach the light that shone from that other world – the world where they resided.
Finally, his goal was at hand – the light just a little further. He would soon be welcomed by the gods, and leave this meagerly existence behind. They would hold him in esteem and praise him unlike the fools in Watershire.
Just as Rupert was about to break through, something strange and black shot through the surface and pulled him from his world into the bright light of the gods. Rupert wanted to scream, but couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe. He was being tossed and swat about as though he were a pebble.
The black creature had horrible green eyes and its mouth was a gapping maw, which paralyzed Rupert with fear. A great weight came down on him and all he could do was flap about, trying to free himself.
As great bodies thundered around him, Rupert heard the voice of one of the gods. Always before, it had entered his world in a way that was muted and sounded kind and welcoming. Now that he had crossed into their world, it was loud and shrill, and filled him with dread.
“Mom, Felix caught one of the fish.”
“Oh, let him have it. It’s the one that killed the anthias.”
In Watershire, things returned to peace and harmony as the other fish went about their business, relieved to be rid of Rupert.
Mod
Glenda wrote: "I was thinking Rupert would be a mouse, but that was a sure twist :) Good job!"Thank you Glenda.
Rebecca wrote: "Happy New Year everyone. Now that I have my story finished, I'm looking forward to reading everyone else's.."Could not even guess at that one!
:)
Yes, Glenda, Rebecca spared Mickey with a nice suspense tale till the end.
wow, great stories. I have to watch for that page two arrow though. I keep forgetting this site has pages instead of a more button that adds to the bottom. I have to admit, Rebecca. You had me going with that one.
Well, we have cats and castles and lots of change going on. I'm amazed at the variety of stories we have.
Important reminder, Shae! I just checked the first page out of the two so far, and at the end there is the big block to post new comments. I wonder if the comment will automatically revert to the end of the last page, or will stay out of sinc.
Glinda Through the Glass (959 words)By Karen Hopkins
Glinda stared out the tower window at the snow-covered fields below. The snow-white cat in her lap purred and stretched. “We’re lucky we aren’t out there, Puss,” she murmured pulling her heavy ermine robes close and glancing over at the fire dancing on the hearth. Glinda’s dolls were scattered on the floor but she had more important concerns right now than her toys. As far as she could tell she was alone in the castle. Except for the cat. Glinda looked out the window again and sighed, Not a footprint, not a sign of anyone. “Where did they go?” But Puss had no answer. How long would it be before the fires went out and this room was as cold as the world outside? Glinda shuddered imagining the cold outside the glass.
She tried to think. When had she last seen her family? Did they leave while she was napping? A huge bony bird swept past the window its black wings hunched like a cloak. The bird seemed to peer right through the glass and into her face. She pulled back in fear. But the creature couldn’t touch her. She vaguely remembered her father carrying her up to the tower. “Wait here,” he’d whispered. She remembered now, she’d watched him through the window, watched him stride through the snow, watched him climb into the waiting carriage.
Glinda shook her head. Why had they left her behind? She clutched her cat, holding the poor creature close. Wait, there were others, she could see them outside, far below. Soldiers came and went, stopping at the wide gates, stamping the snow off their boots before entering the castle. The same soldiers (or were they others?) hurried back out, a nearly continuous stream of activity. Some carried bundles. Were they taking things from the palace? Maybe they were bringing things in, fortifying the area in case of attack. Glinda could not tell.
She stretched forward until her nose hit the glass. She knocked on the window; surely someone would hear her. But no one looked up; no one paused. She would wait. Someone would come. Glinda kept watch, a silent vigil through the day. She watched as the sun sank lower and lower in the western sky. She watched as it touched the horizon and slowly slid down and out of sight. She watched the sky turn from blue to pink to red and finally to gray. Soon it would be black.
The soldiers were no longer coming and going. Where had they gone and why wasn’t she with them? Her stomach growled. Finally Glinda could wait no longer. Her eyelids fluttered and her head drooped and even though she fought it sleep crept up on her. Only her faithful Puss had stayed with her through the long and worrisome day. She shook her head and reached for the cat running her fingers through his soft fur. “Oh Puss, what would I have done without you?” she whispered. The fire had long since gone out in the fireplace. She longed for her warm bed, her soft coverlets, but surely her father, the King, would come for her here. The soft fur soothed her and she sank down onto her knees, asleep before she hit the floor.
Glinda did not hear the sound of keys in the door. She did not hear the unfamiliar voices.
“Joseph?”
“Yeah.”
“Everything secure?”
“Ready to go.”
“Did you leave those rags on the floor over there?” Ben asked, nodding with his chin toward the window.
“Rags, what rags?”
“There. By the window.”
Joseph bent down for a closer look, then gestured for Ben to come closer. “Look at this would you? How long has she been here? What’s she doing sleeping on the floor?”
Joseph peered down at the young girl asleep on the cement floor, a ragged coat clutched close with one hand, a ratty stuffed animal in the other. “Call Roger. He was working the register. Ask him if he noticed a little girl hanging around the front of the store.”
Ben called to the back of the store. Roger shut his locker and turned toward the sound of Ben’s voice. “What’s up?” he asked as he walked toward the other men. “I’m ready to pack it in.”
“Did you notice a young girl around here earlier? Maybe seven, eight years old? Dirty blonde hair, mismatched shoes, hugging a stuffed animal?
Roger thought for a minute. “Yeah. There was a little girl like that. Her dad—well I assumed he was her dad—dropped her off, told her not to move, he’d be back.”
“When was that?”
“Let me think, Must a been around noon. I had just come on shift. Why?”
“Is that her?” Ben asked, indicating the sleeping child.
“Wow, yep. Do you think she’s been here all day? What’re you gonna do?”
Joseph squatted down next to the child. “I guess we call the police. I’m going to take her home with me if they’ll let me. Judy’ll look after her until we know where she belongs.” He held back tears thinking of the child’s long and hopeless day. “Maybe something happened to her folks. Why else wouldn’t they come back?” He scooped the little bundle up off the floor, holding the child snuggly against his chest.
Glinda opened one eye and peered at the big man. He had a scratchy looking brown beard and blue eyes. The soldiers were here; they’d come up to the tower. Good. They would take her to her daddy. “Everything will be all right,” she murmured as she closed her eyes again and headed back to the safety of dreamland.
Maybe when he came back her papa would buy Puss a new pair of boots. Sometimes it was tough being a princess.
Soldiers Above, But Lilith With Me (870 words)
I've been hiding below the ancient citadel since the Daesh took my mama. She was given to a soldier, but not before she hid me. She helped me squeeze under this giant stone. Mama said it might have once been an altar. It was dark and scary, but I was more afraid to come out than I was of the bones. I saw the soldiers drag mother away, but not before pushing me our last crust of bread, and the necklace she no longer dares to wear. A year ago I would have been frightened of the bones, but I was only thirteen then and I've seen so many dead since I was so young. The decay of death is much more scary than the dried bones of ancestors. Baba told me, before he went away, that people have been building on this castle, and dying in it, for perhaps four thousand years before the Holy Prophet spoke to us. That is a lot of bones. Ibrahim, the great ancestor of the Prophet is said to have milked sheep on this very ground. I hide amongst so many, but luckily for me all this last piece of bread is mine...
Yesterday I thought I would die, wither away from lack of moisture, but then the greatest of gifts was granted me. A cat came to see me. At first I thought the scampering was that of a rat, a rat that could feed me, but it wasn't, it was this beautiful cat, looking for rats, just like me. I have a long bone to bash them with, though so far I've not actually hit one. The cat came to share my bread. I gave it a little, so that it would stay. The soldiers would eat the cat, but she is my friend. I think my mother is dead now, and her spirit may be in the cat. I call it my Lilith, after my mother...
Today Lilith led me to a pipe that drips water. Each drip is like a drink of the waters of paradise. Now I feel that I won't be resting with the bones for a while. More than this, I think I may have found a tunnel. I can't see, there is no light, but the walls are close and smooth, and the ceiling seems to be even and strong. I only have to stoop a little. I went quite a long way before I got too frightened. Tomorrow I'll explore further, with a long stick and my strong bone. Lilith wasn't frightened like me...
This morning there are soldiers above me. I don't know if they're Daesh, the Free Syrian Army, Alawis or what, but they'd probably all use me. Mummy said I must keep away from all men, even those that look like priests. Mummy says war turns all men into animals, except Baba. I'm going to take a torch, they seem to have plenty. When they sleep I'll also look for food...
I squeeze out from where Mummy pushed me, after I'd told Lilith to stay. Anyway, she'd gone to hunt rats somewhere. The soldiers were snoring, so I took a torch and some bread and cheese. Yes, the soldiers even have cheese. I thought I might get stuck scrambling out, Mummy really had to push me, but I squeezed through easily enough. I suspect I'm thinner now...
Today there is fighting above me, I think Daesh are losing. I have heard many bombs. Today I've decided to see how far the tunnel goes, but I'm so hungry, so weak. It's time for me to say goodbye to Lilith. Mama, would have already done it. I've put Lilith in a bag I took from a soldier. Lilith was frightened when I pushed her in and squeezed her until she stopped moving, but she only scratched a little. I think she really loved me as much as I loved her, but I know that cats have to be food. In the tunnel I switch on the torch though I only use it to make a tiny slit of light between my fingers. Who knows if a hole might let light give me away. I don't think anyone has been in the tunnel for a very long time...
There are puddles of water in places, and great long cobwebs. No spiders, I expect Lilith ate them. Tunnels go left and right, but I go straight. After a long walk there is light and soon I reach a place I can get through. I'll rest now. When it's dark I'll chew a bit of Lilith to give me strength. Then I'm going to start walking and keep walking forever, or until I reach a paradise in this world, or one in the next. I know that Mama is already resting, waiting for Judgement Day.
Mama said that when I get free I must start walking north, and never stop until I'm in a place where the guns are always quiet. I'll walk further, until I find a place where we don't need to eat beautiful cats. I'll find a place as wonderful as Aleppo was when I was little.
Good job Richard. Nice stories so far from everyone.
Some really refreshing new stories.Rebecca, great twist, I would have never guessed that Rubert was a fish. The story kept me glued till the end.
Karen,
I liked the turn in your story... Loved the way, the little girl was talking to her stuffed toy, and imagining herself to be a Princess, looking through her glass window of the castle.
TK,
You too had a good angle to your story of the cat and the boy.
Good to see how differently each of the stories are shaping up.
Thanks Cora- but actually some of my tenses are a bit flaky. Thanks Karen.
Karen, sweet story... Dreams take us away from reality, and sometimes it is a good thing!Richard, the ravages of war spared no animals, even the loyal cat.
I'm don't always write from such a dark place- but sometimes I watch the news and think that portions of the world are in a parallel dimension that has never escaped mediaeval times. Most of the cats in my neighbourhood live better lives than most of the children only a thousand miles from here. Europe is very small.
“Wondrous Change”By: Randall Lemon
(998 words)
Prince Mika knew that a special time was approaching. A long-standing family tradition said that on Midwinter’s Day of their twelfth year all members of the royal Rakshasa family of Forjhengia would have the family secret of Rule revealed to them. From that moment on their lives were forever changed.
Midwinter was only four days away. All Mika really knew about the process was that on the morning of his birthday he would be taken to a secret room in the castle where a private ceremony overseen by his father King Leo Rakshasa the Seventeenth would take place.
From then on, his real training would begin. As the eldest child of King Leo and Queen Rani, the mantle of rule would one day be his. At that point he would forsake Mika forever and instead become King Leo the Eighteenth. Once he became king he would find a woman to be his queen and she would rule beside him. She had to share the family bloodline but he had many cousins from which to choose.
Already, he thought he knew her. Not long ago, Mika had found all girls to be annoyances. In the last few months, his feeling had begun to change; at least where his older cousin, Esmeralda was concerned.
Esmeralda was strong and sinewy. Of all the young Rakshasa, she held the reputation of being a powerful and crafty hunter. One time, Mika and his younger brother, Kit, had hid themselves and watched a royal hunt. Some antelope sprinted past the bushes in which the two boys were hidden. There was a crash in the underbrush and streaking toward the small herd was the lithe form of Esmeralda. She was naked and carried no weapons. The antelope veered to dodge away from the hunter but as fast as they were, she was faster, almost a blur. She moved with such speed that Mika was spellbound. He knew that he was no match for her speed. She singled out a buck and leaped upon it dragging it to the ground and snapping its neck in a single action.
She was beautiful and deadly and though six years older than Mika, he sensed that she would be a fitting one to help him rule and raise a young Rakshasa to take his place when he became old.
The next three nights were a fretful time for Mika. He found it harder to contain his natural curiosity about the ceremony to come. He spent nights dreaming of Esmeralda and the great deeds they would perform. There was also a physical manifestation of his curiosity or at least that is what Mika thought. He began to itch. At first he thought it was a rash, but he soon noticed grows of fine hair protruding from what had been his smooth skin. He found hair on his torso, cheeks, arms, and legs. The hair on his head seemed to be growing much more quickly than usual and soon hung down well past his collar in back.
When he awoke on the morning of his birthday, he found one of his older cousins awaiting him.
“Come Mika, it is time for the ceremony.”
“Okay Montaigne, let me just wash and dress. How should I dress for the ritual?”
“You will not need to dress. We approach the ceremony naked and unafraid. Now come.”
Slightly embarrassed, Mike followed Montaigne from his room and through a secret passage. The passageway twisted and turned until at last they stopped at what appeared to be a blank wall.
Montaigne slapped the flat of his hand against the wall and roared out loudly. “One approaches who would share the secret of the Rakshasa clan. One approaches to leave childhood behind! One approaches who might one day rule!”
At the end of the third statement, the wall slid upward revealing a dark room with a circle of bright light at its center. Montaigne stood back and allowed Mika to precede him into the large room.
“Walk to the light and wait, Cousin.”
“What am I waiting for, Montaigne?”
Montaigne said only one word and disappeared into the darkness. “Change.”
Once in the center of the chamber, Mika had only a brief wait. Suddenly the entire room was filled with light and around him in a circle stood a veritable menagerie of wild cats. Mika feared he had been mislead and would be torn apart by the jungle beasts. But one, the largest of them all, a great tiger, stood up and strode forward on two legs. The beast spoke with his father’s voice.
“Today you truly become a Rakshasa. From this day, you will share the family secret. You will be able to change your form at will between cat, cat person, and human. You will have the strength and speed of the jungle cat and the human intelligence to know best how to use it. In former times, the people of this kingdom feared us because of our abilities. They called us demons and tried to destroy us. We went into hiding but gradually because of our abilities, we became the kingdom’s greatest warriors and ultimately, its rulers.”
A sleek snow leopard stood and moved toward Mika wrapping him in her paws and Mika recognized his mother, Rani.
“My son, always use your abilities to protect the people of but never reveal your true nature. For what we endow you with today is both a blessing and a curse. As much as they love us now, that love would turn to loathing if they knew our true natures.”
With that, the beasts closed into a circle around Mika and began a low rhythmic snarl. Mika’s form shifted, he fell to his knees and his arms became powerful legs. His new growths of hair elongated and covered his body in fur. Mika called out to his father, but what came from his throat was a roar. Exultation filled him. He was truly a member of the pride.
Tap-tap tap. Now I'm all tapped out. I hope you enjoy it.
Randall, I could hear the tap-tap tap all the way from here. I knew there would be a twist from the beginning but you got me at the end. Entertaining and revealing! Since we do not what we are doing, the Animal Kingdom will begin to rule!
Mod
Thank you Cora.Enjoying the stories. I'm looking forward to reading more.
Wow, What a Last minute spurt. We now have nine stories so far and a few days left to post. Wonderful turn out and great stories. I think we like our new home. I just have to get used to going to the next page. LOL.
Regarding Hosting for 2016, I have three volunteers so far (Stephani, Glenda, and Lynnette), and I thought I had a Fourth.... Is there anyone else that would like to volunteer? And are there any preferences on months you would rather NOT host? I'm working out a calendar/schedule.
This has nothing to do with anything, but just was idly browsing and noticed this thread had 74 entries, 7 new entries, last entry 7 hrs 7 minutes ago.Now that I couldn't resist and messed up that march to perfection, might as well wish everyone a nice writing day!
;D
Sheltering in Hoarend Castle by F. Burwick 1000 wordsOld Hoarend Castle stood alone on the far northern seacliff. It was built by forces of King Wendell, and his crazy son, Sir Vanagarn, dwelt there, through the War of the Zealots, and King Wendell's defeat. The winters became colder then, no victor came forth desiring to take this castle. This land produced little, and nobility had little for gain there. Sir Vanagarn held on to his dominion there still a long time, even through real deprivation, but ultimately he took what was to be a walk for the day, and disappeared, never seen again. The small staff he had took their leave days after that, while animals Sir Vanagarn had kept were let loose to fend for themselves, as the castle became vacant. The few peasants left in that land gradually came to seeking their fortune elsewhere, to then do much better.
Few sightseers came near to look at this castle, seen as haunted, for centuries. The land became wilderness. None took refuge here until the Great Purge, when the official Grant Spudwine fled with his single-parented daughter, Rumelon, the spring of that year. Rumelon was six then, and turning seven that fall. Her father let his hair grow with a full beard from the start, wore old clothes he'd found, and dressed Rumelon differently, saying she could call him Pa now, and anyone asking should only be told he was Farmer Jud Tomerson, and she was to be known as Missy.
This father, now Farmer Jud, had brought along food for several days, and many seeds for edible fruits, vegetables, and grains he would then plant, for use later, but as there wasn't food otherwise available, he had to make a journey every few weeks to a town in the distance to purchase dry goods for their meals. This castle had a working well, and a great kitchen area well-stocked with utensils, these only needing to be cleaned of accumulated dust. Missy kept herself in a locked area with her things occupying her while he was away. There was a stream some distance away, forests were beyond that. They hoped for fish to catch, but didn't find any. Missy would look from her high window on these occasions, at the surroundings. She would occasionally see small faraway animals. After turning seven, later in that fall, she saw a great feline creature stalking by the wood. She watched intently, wondering what it was, seemingly as large as a medium-sized dog, with a gray-white coat, a small mane, and pointed ears. She watched, until it ultimately went into the wooded area, and disappeared from view.
When her father returned, she quickly told him about this animal, and described it to him. He knowingly said, "This is what an arctic lion looks like. As this creature won't be seen otherwise through the rest of the year, a change of seasons is happening, winter is starting. This arctic lion apparently migrates from colder realms this time of year."
He saw at least the crops were ready for harvesting. He might have put it off, but he was sure with this omen that they needed to prepare. He said this to Missy, and had them reap the fruits, vegetables, and grains they had growing. They would save seeds, as they would prepare those items for their food, for planting with the opportunity next year. As he told Missy, they had to be prepared for the changes, with a harsh winter ahead.
There was a small reserve of firewood there, but Farmer Jud was compelled to gather more, as he started to do near the end of that same day, from broken branches among the trees. The next day he took the axe that was among equipment left there, and chopped larger logs, though the day grew noticeably colder then. After three trips, at his final return, he told Missy they should raise the drawbridge, as it was the one open way through the otherwise thoroughly insulated castle.
She followed her father to that open way, as they came there a surprising sight awaited them. A score of animals had come right up, they halted there on seeing these two people there. There were beavers, squirrels, porcupines, eagles, and crows.
"Oh, Pa, don't you see? These animals come to take shelter in here as winter comes every year. They must have been doing this for many years, it is how they survive. Don't turn them away."
Farmer Jud listened to Missy's reasoning, and had nothing to argue contrary to it, so they stepped back, out of the way. The birds flew in, and perched nearby, and as the two humans showed they would not interfere, the other animals walked in.
A bitter cold wind picked up then, flurries of snow began to fall. They returned to raise the drawbridge. Just then they saw another creature approaching quickly, but still so far they couldn't see what it was, long from left to right, with fins, and a long sword-like projection, and legs below which had it running toward them. They stared, until they recognized it was a great fish being carried by the arctic lion. Before they could do anything, this animal stopped before them, and dropped the great fish it had caught before them.
"It's a gift to share with us! This arctic lion wants to shelter in here too!"
Farmer Jud hesitated, but could not deny this fish was presented as a gift, and he then picked it up, as he valued having it for more food for them, and permitted the arctic lion to enter. As the animal ran in, he set it down again, and with work it involved they managed to bring the drawbridge up. The snow started coming down briskly, but most of the castle area was sheltered from it, and they ran back under the eaves to their place of residence. Farmer Jud and Missy were glad that they had a great fire going in the fireplace already.
Mod
The Sand Castleby Shelly Heskett Harris
853 word count
The two men stood behind a collapsed, adobe-wall and watched the boy on the beach. He wore shorts, a jacket and his shoes were untied. He hugged his jacket around his chest too absorbed in the sculpture he was making to stop and zip it up. The cool breeze was turning into a cold wind, but he wanted to finish the last parapet on his sand castle before he went in.
The two men left their post to dig black, matching hoodies out of their car and then returned to the corner of the wall. The tallest man checked the area again.
“Place is still deserted, some kind of storm is coming” he said. “We can grab the kid and be off.”
The other man squinted in thought and pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket. He worked his fingers in them, still thinking.
Finally he said, “I guess so. This has got to be quiet so they think he just wandered away.
The men backtracked to the sidewalk and approached the boy from the street.
“We’ve taken a wrong turn, and lost our way.” the tall man said.
The boy continued working on his sculpture ignoring the men , A gust of chilling wind caught the castle and blew the dried turret off, this crumpled the left side of the castle. The boy screamed and started hitting the castle, he stood up and began kicking what was now little more than a pile of sand, only a beautiful base remained to signify what once was an intricate piece of art. The boy was in agony. now laying across the ruins,still sobbing.
The men were clearly out of their realm, forced from kidnapper to protector they tried to console the child. At first he resisted when they touched him, but he was too exhausted and settled down in the tall man's arms.
A woman came running from the last house on the beach. She wore short sleeved pajamas, but didn’t notice the cold. She was yelling against the wind and whatever sound she made was drowned the minute it left her lips. The men didn’t look back, they didn’t see her. She chased them until they disappeared from view; then with the knife she had been cutting up carrots and still held in her hand, she carved the car’s licence plate numbers in her arm so she would not forget
A tabby cat, with a white “M” across its forehead watched the entire drama. Her vantage point was inside a scrub-bush protected from sight and weather. As a kitten, she had discovered the mini-cave and lived there until she adopted the boy. They were the perfect companions. Neither liked to be touched or bothered and yet there were times they would curl up together and share their abject loneliness.
The cat needed no reminder. She recognized the smell coming from the tires and jumped over sand dunes toward the Italian fish shop and restaurant. If the van didn’t leave the island, she would find the boy.
Detective Sergeant Jan Kelso called her team together and briefed them on the boy’s kidnaping
“The boy, Ralph H. Thornton, III, is extremely autistic,” she faced thirty-two officers in blue jeans and regulation,khaki-shirts.
” We believe he has been kidnapped by his father,. R H. II, who the court has taken all rights and privileges away from. we believe the boy is in grave danger.”
She stopped, cleared her throat and given no to the rights to the mother,who is incarcerated in Huntsville prison and the boy remained a ward of the court until she serves her two year sentence.
“The skinny of it is that the father will not accept the diagnosis and insists on treating the boy as a normal kid,” She stopped, picked up her coffee cup, took a sip, thinking all the time, how was she going to
convince these men, most of them fathers themselves, most of them cheering for R H II. ‘ how do I make them see what a monster he is ?’ she continued, “.to an autistic child, this is torture pure and simple. The last time the father had Raphie, the boy retreated inside himself and R.H. II, blamed the mother and got her put in prison.
One of the officers motioned with his hat that he wanted to speak, “When you got the kind of money and
push R.H’s got, you can do about anything you want.” Several officers nodded their heads.in agreement.
Jan hoped that some would join a house to house search The day wore on and Jan was feeling more desperate. It was near sundown when Jan let out a “whoop”. She was pointing to a tabby cat about a block away.
“That’s Ralphie's cat .She found him! He’s not far away.”
Three months later the same two men were watching Ralphie on the beach, but now they were guarding him. He was building another sand castle. Tabby was asleep beside him. The only difference was four kittens digging in the sand, helping the little boy get in touch with his feelings.
Hi Randall,That was an intriguing story... the ending was superb. I would never have guessed where this was leading.
Fred, Your story weaved in history and humanity to make them blend into each other. Interesting transition.
Loved the way ... the animals and humans lived together.
Shelly,I liked your story.
But was slightly confused about the child living with the cat, and his being autistic; what was the relationship between the two? Also about the two men, who kidnapped him. Was one of them his father?
Why were they watching him again a few months later, this time guarding him?
Maybe, I missed the point somewhere...
Pawsing to read.Purrhaps a hot chocolate to keep the winter and furry flakes of fluffy snow at bay?
:)
It's a lot of fun reading along when the stories come in as the big storm envelopes the scene!
For all interested. http://www.lifeofwriters.com/home/index is having a free writing contest where winners can win 20,30 or 40$ to amazon :-)
Mod
Please do not spam our group in the story contest thread. I saw that this same post was posted in other writing groups as well. At least start a new thread at Writers 750 about other writing opportunities.
While we're on the subject matter, I've started a new thread for Grace by Faith Publishing in the anthology section for those who would like to pursue these opportunities.
Hey so just joined this Group. Then I saw that you had a contest and I was like great!! Then I saw the Deadline was tomorow and I was like not great :( But you know what Screw it, I am going to write a Story right now. It'll probably be really bad and I garauntee that the grammer will be awful, but why not. I'll post something later tonight.
Mod
Sometimes writers do their best work when they have a tight deadline. Welcome to the group!
Well, Lots of variety in the stories this month. Deadline is coming though. All stories must be posted by Midnight Sunday (PST). Looking forward to last minute entries... Always interesting what people come up with under pressure.
Mine is almost done. I might be squeaking it in just under the deadline tomorrow but I will get it in.
Glenda,Thanks for the link to LifeofWriters. I joined the group and thinking of posting my story this week.
Rebecca,
Your name is the subject of the story this week...
Tessa Marie,
Welcome to the group... I am sure you will post a great story.
Lynette,
I think you believe in "Last is the best"... so you are saving your story to be the just that!
Hey Gang, Looks like I ran out of month, so I won't be posting on this one, but hopefully in February. I'll read them all, but won't vote to keep the contest correct.
WalunaThe kingdom of Moff was a peaceful place. It was ruled over by a kindly old king named Hoff and his beautiful daughter; the fair Princess Waluna.
Morey and his brother Killian didn't concern themselves with politics, however. They were just two young farm boys doing their best to raise their animals and live their lives.
Morey's constant companion was his llama Dorey, and Killian's favored pet was his cat Jillian. Morey would ride Dorey for hours inspecting their farm, and Killian would brush Jillian's long black fur until she purred and fell asleep in his lap.
One day, however, their lives changed.
Everyone in Moff was called to the king's palace for an emergency meeting!
"People of Moff!" King Hoff intoned, "I have terrible news! The evil dragon King Sauran has declared war on Moff!"
The crowd's fear was overwhelming! King Sauran was a cruel and merciless creature! His enemies never survived, and now he was after them!
"It gets worse," King Hoff added, "Waluna went to stop the dragons, but Sauran took her prisoner! Who is brave enough to stand against Sauran and fight for your princess and your people?"
No one came forward. They couldn't build an army with these cowards!
Morey and Killian looked at each other and knew what they had to do.
"My brother and I will save the princess!" Morey declared.
"Sauran's castle is heavily guarded," Hoff warned.
Morey was undeterred. He and Killian packed up their things and prepared for the journey. They rode Dorey through the dark and foreboding forest. It was a few hours before they realized that Jillian had followed them as well.
Shoo! Go home, girl!" Killian ordered.
It was no use. Jillian would not leave her best friend to die.
The four heroes would brave the winter wind and defeat the evil dragon King or die trying!
The castle looked even worse than they thought! The stones were purple, and the mouth of the entrance glowed red! The torches cast ominous shadows. The guards stood at attention.
Our heroes snuck up the side and looked down at the moat. The most was filled with lava!
"Are you kidding me?!?" Killian hissed "Who builds a castle over a volcano? This is dangerous!"
"They're dragons, Killian," Morey pointed out.
Killian took a deep breath and followed Morey and Dorey as they sidled on the edge of the gate and managed to get inside without being noticed.
When they made it inside they heaved a sigh of relief. It was then that they noticed Jillian was already inside.
"How'd you get in here, girl?" Killian asked the kitty as she looked up at him innocently.
"Killian, we need to split up to look for the princess," Morey explained, "You go left, and I'll go right. You take Dorey and Jillian. I want you to have back up."
"What about you?" Killian asked.
"I've got my pocket knife," Morey explained, "I'll be fine."
Killian wasn't convinced, but he knew his brother was too stubborn to listen to him.
Morey had fought several dragons by the time he made it to the central tower. He was tired and his skin was burned in several places from the dragons. He wasn't even sure if Princess Waluna was still alive!
Hopefully his hunch was correct. Hopefully Sauran would want to keep his most prized prisoner in the most secure part of his castle.
Morey saw two paths in front of him: a narrow path to the left and a wider path to the right. If he chose wrong, then he would need to be able to escape, so he chose the wider path since it had more room for him to run.
He made it to the end, and it was a giant luxurious room! It was decorated in red and gold, and had an opening in the roof. Sitting on a cushion was the biggest dragon Morey had ever seen! Most dragons were about 8 feet tall, but this one was at least 20 feet tall!
The dragon turned to look at him, its yellow eyes narrowing at the sight of a Moff in his chamber!
"You must be King Hoff's messenger boy!" The giant reptile said in a jovial tone, "I am Sauran, ruler of the Dragon Kingdom! What does the Moff King want with me?"
"I'm here for the princess!" Morey proclaimed.
"Fat chance,!" Sauran taunted.
Before Morey knew it, Sauran was flying toward him with wide open jaws!
Morey ducked just in time! He ran as Sauran flew above trying to catch him!
Sauran snapped his jaws at Morey! Morey needed a weapon! His pocket knife wasn't good enough!
He found a sword hanging on the wall and grabbed it! He stabbed it into Sauran's chest...but it didn't penetrate.
"That's a replica, dummy!" Sauran laughed menacingly, "You think I keep my real trophies in my bedroom?"
Sauran then laughed even harder. Morey then lunged at the dragon king!
Morey kicked the dragon's chest and threw him to the ground! Sauran, realizing that he'd underestimated Morey, backhanded him! Morey fell against the wall.
Morey's head was throbbing, and he could see the dragon King coming for him.
Just as Sauran was closing in, however, he fell down with a sword in his back!
Morey's eyes went wide as he saw Who bested Sauarn! It couldn't be!
It was Waluna!
She was as beautiful as everyone said! Long black hair, soft brown eyes, and a gown that flowed out from the bottom of her feet like a mermaid's tail!
Morey was speechless as the princess walked toward him. She had escaped, and killed the dragon herself! He felt so low. She actually had to save him!
She must surely think him a coward!
"What is your name, sir?" Waluna asked in a voice as heavenly as silk.
"I'm Morey..." Morey replied nervously.
"You risked your life against King Sauran's army to save me?" Waluna asked in a humbled voice, "...My hero."
It is exactly 1000 words and the theme of change comes in the form of changing expectations of heroes and victims in fairy tale stories. I had trouble working in the cat and the winter, so I hope it doesn't sound too forced...
Cora, I don't know about "Last is the best" but it is. I hope you enjoy it. Now that the story is done it is time to start reading the entries.
(Part 1 of 2) Total word count 985Edger’s Secret
Prince Toby Aldershien III; son of King Aldershein, ruler of Leberstolm, gleefully escaped the play room. It was one of those times when he was glad he had a thin stature, making it easy for him to duck in and out of the shadows. Tucked away in his woolen cloak was his faithful companion Tobias, a six month old orange and white stripped kitten who was born in the stables on Toby’s own birthday and was a gift from Edger, the stable master.
Four near misses with the Royal Guard, and two with servants, later Toby reached his destination. Carefully opening the door, the young prince scanned the open area between the castle and the stables. No one was outside. Apparently the frosty bite in the air was excuse enough for everyone to huddled near one on the twenty-eight fireplaces dispersed throughout the castle.
Carefully placing the now restless kitten at his feet, Toby smiled as he secured his heavy wool cloak, “You want to get out of this stuffy castle and go chase some mice, Tobias?”
The kitten meowed in response so Toby did one last quick scan of the area before breaking into a run. “Race ya, Tobias,” he called over his shoulder.
Together the young prince and his sidekick sprinted across the snow covered courtyard toward the stables. Edger, was coming out of one of the stalls when the kitten dashed past him and the prince skidded to a stop just inside the door. Having spent all of his 51 years around horses, the stable master was still built like one. His broad shoulders were nearly as wide as Toby was tall and large arms strained against the confines of the heavy wool shirt. With his gray, grizzly, beard and mustache Edger was an intimidating figure to most people, but to Prince Toby he was a friend. Edger’s stern expression softened into a chuckle as the flurry of orange of white flashed past him, closely followed by the red faced prince.
“Looks like Tobias beat you again, my young prince,” he greeted the future monarch with a soft bow.
(part 2 of 2)Edger's Secret.
Toby flipped back the hood of his cloak. “Well, he does have four legs to my two,” he countered with a smile. “Can we stay in here for awhile? Tobias wants to chase some mice. He is tired of being in the castle.”
Edger laughed as he tucked his thumbs into the pockets of his leather apron. “Does he now? Or is that you have escaped your nanny again and prefer she does not to find you any time soon?”
Toby’s smile transformed into a scowl and he kicked at the straw on the stable floor. “I am too old to have a nanny. I should be sitting in court with my father and training with weapons. I am the future king after all, and I am nearly half way through my tenth year, ” he fussed. “Every boy in the kingdom is laughing at me because they sit with their fathers while I am stuck in a child’s playroom with a stupid nanny.”
Edger reached out and ruffled Toby’s thick brown hair, finishing the unruly look started by the cloak’s hood. “I know, my young prince. Your father has just been distracted with all this madness going on around us. He is having to contend with the savages stirring up trouble on our southern borders.” He paused as his eyes went to the snow capped mountain range directly behind the castle to the east. They came back to the boy, “not to mention the trouble that tyrant King Henry is causing on the other side of the mountain. And I think your sweet mother is afraid to have you grow up too fast.”
A soft meow from Tobias three stables away interrupted them. Edger pointed toward the kitten. “I think your companion is demanding your attention.”
Toby managed a smile. “So it seems. I best see what he has gotten himself into.”
Edger pointed that direction with his chin. “At least he has chosen a clean stall,” he remarked. “I would love to keep you company but I have a couple of more stalls to prepare before the eight extra horses and carriage arrive this afternoon. “
This sparked Toby’s interest. “Father never mentioned anyone was coming. Who are we expecting?”
Edger leaned down so his mouth was just inches from Toby’s ear. Toby instinctively curled up his nose at the man’s horrendous garlic breath.
“No one knows anything more then it is someone of importance and that there will be a woman with them. Personally, I hope it is Duke Livingston and his new bride Princess Claudette. I know your father sent a courier several weeks ago to find them and that he returned with a message,” he whispered and straightened up as the prince gasped.
“The Rebel King might be coming here? " Toby squealed in delight.
Everyone in three kingdoms knew about Duke Robert Livingston’s midnight raid on King Henry’s castle to rescue the imprisoned princess. Rumor was that Henry was about to put his own daughter to death to protect his hold on the throne. It was also rumored that Duke Livingston was leading the rebellion to oust the tyrant king, thus giving the Duke the nickname Rebel King.
Edger slapped his hand over Toby‘s mouth. “Quiet, boy!” he warned. “Even here Henry has ears. If it is Duke Livingston and the Princess Claudette who ride in here this day we may all be in grave danger as Henry will stop at nothing to save his throne. Even killing your father. If you want to earn the right to sit at your father‘s side you best be learning to control your tongue, starting this very moment.” He lowered his hand. “But be assured, my young prince, the winds of change are blowing. I can feel it.”
Hi everyone,These are all great stories and I want to commend T.K. for your story submission. I wish you had indicated what kind of a storm or was that left to reader's imagination?
Lynette, looks like you and Edger just made it in time! Pun partly intended..
-Earlier, I did not notice the full range of comments that were here and had posted, but am revising my post now.
David
Holly, you did well working it in. would liked to have known what happened to Killian though. Lynnette, Nice squeeking in. Yours almost needs another part too. you could easily turn that into a little novella.
Truth be told, we have lots of great stories here. 4 more hours to midnight PST. (its 10:08 cst now). Wonder if any more stories will show.
I have 13 stories so far and will post the list for voting in the morning, giving time for a few last entries.Voting will take place between January 25, 2016 to January 31st. Winners will be posted in this thread on February 1st.
Shelly wrote: "The Sand Castleby Shelly Heskett Harris
853 word count
The two men stood behind a collapsed, adobe-wall and watched the boy on the beach. He wore shorts, a jacket and his shoes were untied. He hu..."
If I can mention - it's a lot of fun to discover how other languages write the sounds we hear. In French, woof-woof would be more to the ear of waoh-waoh and the purrr-purrr is ron-ronn. (especially fits with that rough gargle French r - grron-groon)
The English bang-bang! is more to the French ear as pang-pang!
In East Africa, 'tractor' in Swahili is 'tinga-tinga' the sound of an old 1920s type tractor chugging down the road tinga-tinga-tinga-tinga. "Motorcycle' is 'piki-piki' the sound of a yes, 1920s underpowered motocycle puttering along ...piki-piki-piki-piki.
This sort of stuff is fun for writers to play with, not necessarily to use exactly, but also to prompt new ideas and clever ways of writing about very typical things in a slightly different way.
Have fun!
:)