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Short Story Writing Contest:(April 9th to May 8th) CHAT
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Mod
That's intriguing! Though I know you'll ..."
Oh no problem :)
Mod
This is really great! Wow, you guys are such amazing writers!
"When I was 15, my little sister who was only 12, was murdered by a boy my age named Warrow. He snuck into my parents' house late one night and stabbed her through the heart. Blood was all over her bed, and dripping onto the floor. That's one of the two things I remember with perfect clarity." It's taking me soooooo long to do my story, lol. I'm not even done with my rough draft. Above is the first paragraph, but it might change a little bit.
Mod
Oohhho, murder in the opening paragraph, sounds interesting!
Yup! Nothing like a good murder story for a writing contest and revenge....
Woah guys your opening murders!! Intriguing, to say the least.
Anna {Follow me for reviews! (✿◡‿◡)} wrote: ""It happened twice in a span of years, but far too close together according to Kai Orman. The same ugly man with his sneering grin and rancid stink tramped up to the door with his dreadful command,..."This looks amazing!
BookNerd99 | Nickname: Cinder wrote: ""When I was 15, my little sister who was only 12, was murdered by a boy my age named Warrow. He snuck into my parents' house late one night and stabbed her through the heart. Blood was all over her..."Love this ❤️
Wow, everyone's such a good writer here. I am kinda intimidated. ‘Before you begin the journey of revenge, dig two graves…’
Light glinted off the knife- blinding and sharp, almost as sharp as the blade itself. Her heels clicked on the ground, slow and perilous, and her green eyes flicked around the room lazily, drinking in the chaotic scene around her. Chairs were thrown around, fallen to the ground, too insignificant for him to take the time to pick them up. There was a single plate of food on the dinner table, half of the mac and cheese spilt on the table. The table cloth was messily bunched up, most of it hanging off the table. Bedlam was the word for it.
I am not sure about this, tbh. I'll probably completely remove it and edit it. But yeah, that's what I've got so far.
You guys are so good at writing! I am so eager to read your stories.
Mod
‘Before you begin the journey of revenge, dig two graves…’
Light glinted off the knife- blinding and sharp, almost as sharp as t..."
Interesting! Looks great 👍
Khushi wrote: "Wow, everyone's such a good writer here. I am kinda intimidated. ‘Before you begin the journey of revenge, dig two graves…’
Light glinted off the knife- blinding and sharp, almost as sharp as t..."
This sounds amazing ❤️
Cool, Khushi! I'm interested to reading everyone's stories!!
Anna {Follow me for reviews! (✿◡‿◡)} wrote: "Cool, Khushi! I'm interested to reading everyone's stories!!"Same here! They all look so great and I can't wait to read them cause they're gonna be awesome!!!!! Eeek!!!!
BookNerd99 | Nickname: Cinder wrote: "Anna {Follow me for reviews! (✿◡‿◡)} wrote: "Cool, Khushi! I'm interested to reading everyone's stories!!"Same here! They all look so great and I can't wait to read them cause they're gonna be aw..."
Me too!
So, I just finished my rough draft. My story is super dark......
I'm having writer's block on my story and Idk what to do XD I guess I'll keep chugging and hope something comes out of it!
Anna {Follow me for reviews! (✿◡‿◡)} wrote: "I'm having writer's block on my story and Idk what to do XD I guess I'll keep chugging and hope something comes out of it!"Same here. :(
Good luck to you!
Bhavya wrote: "Anna {Follow me for reviews! (✿◡‿◡)} wrote: "I'm having writer's block on my story and Idk what to do XD I guess I'll keep chugging and hope something comes out of it!"Same here. :(
Good luck to ..."
You can do it!
BookNerd99 | Nickname: Cinder wrote: "Bhavya wrote: "Anna {Follow me for reviews! (✿◡‿◡)} wrote: "I'm having writer's block on my story and Idk what to do XD I guess I'll keep chugging and hope something comes out of it!"Same here. :..."
Thank you ❤️
I'm still 23 words over the allowed word count 😢 😅Anyone else have this problem?!
Mod
Rushali wrote: "Ok just so you know guys, 50 words here and there is not an issue this time. Be free!"Oh really?? Okay, thanks!
Mod
Oh really?? Okay, thanks!"
Yeah!
Mod
Are we posting them in another thread here on Bookmarked? I am done with mine.
Mod
I'll be posting a word doc soon, in a new thread and you would be notified. Congrats on finishing your story in time!
I'm almost done, just need to go back and make sure everything reads good, something I've been putting off FOREVER LOL.
BookNerd99 | Nickname: Cinder wrote: "I'm almost done, just need to go back and make sure everything reads good, something I've been putting off FOREVER LOL."Same here.
Hi! I’m almost done with my story, I will share it here I a few hours. Feel free to give me feedback. :)
Bhavya wrote: "Hi! I’m almost done with my story, I will share it here I a few hours. Feel free to give me feedback. :)"I kinda finished it...
If you'll want to read it, let me know. :)
Content/ Trigger Warnings- Death, Murder (in detail, on page), Blood, Loss of a Father, Loss of a Mother, Suicidal ideation (mild), Child Abandonment (discussed), Wastage of food (mentioned), Loneliness, Mild Swearing (usage of damned)~Written by Bhavya
Datoil: Johnny Roark
“How does it feel to be free, da?” Johnny had asked his father one morning, his eyes hopeful of the words his father would say.
“Free, eh?” His father countered. “There’s no kind of freedom where we live, son. Everybody here is tied to one another. Death is a better freedom than life in Datoil.” The hope had gone from Johnny’s eyes at that, but Johnny had soon discovered that his father wasn’t wrong.
There was no freedom in Datoil, a small, disgusting lane, where no sane person lived. But Johnny didn’t care about being a sane person. He cared about staying alive and if he had to live in this scrawny lane with no freedom, he’d prefer that over death.
Johnny walked towards his cabin, whistling a tune he had heard his da sing when he was a little boy. He didn’t have much memory of his da, except for a few restless nights where he saw his father’s worried face and wondered what was wrong. “Nothing happened, Johnny. Everything is fine.” Da used to say, and Johnny had believed him, until five tall men in black clothes had come in, pistols in their hand and then they took his father away.
They weren’t really men though, their kind were called Kimõro in Datoli, the language they spoke in Datoil. Blessed. Magic User. One with the power of the Gods. Johnny felt differently. Kimõri. He called them. Abomination. Cursed. They had killed his ma before he had ever gotten a chance to see her, and then they had taken his da.
Johnny entered the cabin he’d chosen for himself years ago, when he was a little boy still mourning the loss of a father. The thought left him dazed, but it didn’t sting like before. Johnny didn’t know if his da was dead or alive, and he didn’t know which to pray for. Death is a better freedom than life in Datoil, his father used to say. Perhaps his da would have preferred death.
But he had enough time to forget old wounds, to erase them from his memory and pretend nothing happened. Now he was Johnny Roark. One of the most feared criminals in Datoil. A liar and a murderer. A cutthroat and a thief.
Johnny hung his coat on the wall, sitting on the rusty chair that made a squeaking noise whenever he did so. His green eyes fell to the note on his table, and he knew there was only one person who must have left it there. Meet me near Peter’s restaurant.
Johnny sighed. Rising from the squeaking chair, he put on his black coat and walked back outside, closing the cabin door shut.
He didn’t mind Peter’s restaurant, but the wretched place was too damn pretty for Datoil. It was painted pink, and he could have sworn it had sparkly golden lights. Too pleasant for my liking, he thought, and it clashed terribly with his black hair.
Johnny waited patiently outside the white, locked door of Peter's restaurant. It didn’t exactly have a name as far as Johnny knew, and Peter had the good sense not to paint a pink banner. At least he had some semblance of a brain.
“Johnny Roark.” A familiar voice called. Bartha was looking him over, her brown and grey hair full of flour, wearing a pink apron that matched the entrance of Peter's restaurant.
“Good to see you Bartha.” Johnny said, tipping his head slightly. “What business have you called me for?” Bartha had been working at Peter’s restaurant for as long as he could remember, and he supposed she was a nice old lady with a nice job at a nice place. At least as nice as it could be in Datoil.
Johnny recalled her stealing burnt cakes for him from the restaurant when he was a little boy, some of them barely coated with sugar frosting. It was a basic rule at Datoil to never accept anything for free, so Bartha’s sugar cakes were always thrown for the street dogs to chew on, but he had appreciated the sentiment then.
Bartha bit her lip, which Johnny knew was a nervous habit. “Let’s go inside.” She said, then lowered her voice. “I’ve got information on your father.”
Johnny’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, unclasping his shoulders for dramatic effect. “My father died years ago.”
Johnny fought the rage that coursed through him, the voice in his head screaming. Revenge. Take your revenge Johnny. Make them pay. He wouldn't think of that. Revenge was a foolish dream, a pointless desire. If there was one thing Johnny Roark had learned all these years alone at Datoil, it was to never take revenge on anyone. A waste of resources.
“No.” Bartha said, her voice surprisingly fearless. “They didn’t kill your father that day Johnny. He’s still alive and I know where he is.”
Johnny stared at Bartha. There wasn’t anything dishonest about her composure, yet he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that she was not telling him the truth. But what would she gain from lying?
“I don’t want any information.” Johnny said firmly. “I don’t care if my father is dead or alive. It’s his life. None of my business.” And he saw it then, the slightest mark on Bartha’s left hand, small enough to be missed. Kimõri. Abomination. Cursed.
Bartha scoffed. “Don’t pretend with me, boy. No one knows as well as I do how much you want him back. I can take you to him, just get inside the—.”
“Alright.” Said Johnny, slowly moving his left hand to his gun in his cloak. He didn’t need to turn to shoot a perfect aim. The person standing behind him, who was most likely ready to attack, was dead.
Bartha gasped, but Johnny didn’t waste any time before putting a knife against her throat. “You’re not Bartha, are you?” He pressed the blade closer, drawing a drop of blood. She choked, but the blood was gone in an instant. Kimõri can feel pain, but no human can kill them. Johnny shoved the thought out of his mind.
The man Johnny had just killed lay on the floor and Johnny searched him for a mark that branded him as Kimõri, just to be sure. He couldn't see any. The man he just killed was certainly a human. Likely someone who had wanted Johnny dead.
“Where’s Bartha? The real one?” Johnny pressed harder against the woman. “If you really knew me as well as you claim, you’d also know I won’t hesitate to slit your throat.”
“How did you know I wasn’t Bartha?” A sob escaped her as he held the knife tighter.
Johnny glanced sideways, shooting a girl coming his way with a gun of her own. Her body fell flat on the floor. How many humans had they hired? “I just knew.” He said, kicking the woman who was not Bartha hard. She growled in anger, trying to free from his grasp. He stayed put.
She was a Shapeshifter, one of the most powerful of her kind, Johnny knew as much. What he didn’t know was why they were after him. “Tell me where Bartha is.” He snapped.
“Dead.” The woman said and there was satisfaction in her voice. “I killed her.” The little resolve Johnny had broke and he pushed the knife ready to slit her throat. She let out a muffled laugh. “You can’t kill me boy. You don’t have it in you.”
Johnny’s expression was amused. “You just saw me murder two people, and you’re saying I don’t have it in me?”
“You can’t kill one of my kind.”
Johnny dragged the women, still keeping the knife at her throat. “You will tell me where Bartha’s body is, and you will tell me all that you know about my father if you want to stay alive. Am I clear?”
“No.” The woman said with determination in her voice.
“And why is that?”
“Because it won’t be necessary.”
“What do you mean— ”
A sharp, stinging pain hit Johnny and he stumbled back, his grip on the woman loosening. The woman smiled, returning to her true form. Raven hair, green eyes and a brown face. She looked just like him. “Remember me Johnny Roark?”
Johnny blinked. He felt as though she had cast a spell on him, forcing him to remember each and every horrid moment of his life. Each lie he had told, each theft he had made, each life he had ended. “Remember me Johnny Roark?” But he couldn’t remember. Memories were a poison. The more that you had, the worse they made you. And Johnny Roark made sure he never remembered. The lesser poison he had, the better.
“I don’t remember.” He said, and he saw something in her face crumble. Good. Johnny didn’t think before he lunged at her, pinning her to the floor. If she was a Shapeshifter, it was unlikely she had any other power and he wasn’t one of the most feared criminals in Datoil for nothing. “Where is Bartha’s body, and what do you know about my father?” He hissed. He’d already drawn enough blood, all of it fading immediately. Kimõri can feel pain, but no human can kill them.
“I burned Bartha’s body.” She said and Johnny willed himself to forget each memory he had with Bartha. Each note she left him, each meeting they had, each sugar cake she made. He would forget, just like always. He would make himself forget.
“And my father?” Johnny asked.
The women laughed again. “He was one of us, didn’t you know?
Kimõro. Magic User.”
Johnny flinched. “No, he wasn’t. Your kind killed my mother.”
“He was.” She said, enjoying every moment of torture she was putting him through. “He didn’t tell you. He was afraid.”
“Then you should feel sorry,” Johnny snarled, pressing the blade harder. “You never gave him a chance to tell me.”
Forget about it Johnny. Forget like always, the voice in his head screamed. But he couldn't forget, for despite all that he liked to believe, Johnny Roark couldn't forget his parents and what was done to them. He couldn’t erase the memory, it was too important to be erased. He couldn’t pretend it didn't happen, as it did happen. Revenge was a foolish dream, a pointless desire, he used to believe, but it wasn’t. Revenge was a supreme power, a kind of wish that gave you peace.
He wanted revenge. He wanted vengeance. And he was going to take it.
*to be continued in a few mins*
Thus Johnny Roark didn’t hesitate before driving that knife harder than he ever had in the woman's throat. This time she yelled in agony, but any mark of injury was gone in a flash. Kimõri. Abomination. Cursed.A bitter sound escaped her. “You can’t kill me boy. You will never be able to. You don’t have it in you.”
“Why did you kill Bartha?” Johnny barked.
“I wanted my revenge.” She said, lifting her chin. “I needed Bartha’s body to take her form. But she was a petty sacrifice for a greater cause. Do you know who your father was, Johnny Roark? He was a Nâhzrâ. A Deserter. A Traitor. It was because of him your mother died. Do you know what power he possessed? He could silence someone. He could silence anyone. Shut their magic and stop it from working. Control their soul. But he gave that power away. He left me. All for a mortal. What a weakling! A miserable, lousy, useless fool—”
“My father was not a fool.” Johnny said in a flat voice. “He was a greater person than you ever were.”
“And who am I?” She said. “Do you know? Do you remember Johnny Roark?”
“Yes.” Johnny said, and now he remembered who she was. Mira. His half-sister. “You’re my sister.”
The women smirked. “Took you long enough, Johnny Roark.” And then she grabbed his knife, sticking in in his heart.
Johnny knew how Kimõri were. How their power was greater than anything humans like him could possess, and yet he was Johnny Roark. One of the most feared criminals in Datoil. A liar and a murderer. A cutthroat and a thief.
There was no one to mourn him, Johnny knew. Bartha would have perhaps, but she was dead because of him. A sacrifice to Kimõri, just like everyone else.
Johnny Roark was now a dead man, with no one for comfort, with no thought to to bring him at ease. He was a dead man who never thought his last words would be shouting at his sister as loud as he could: I will take my revenge. I will burn down every single one of your kind. I will tear all of them to pieces and I will make you watch. I will come back. I know I will.
He never knew if Mira heard him, for Johnny Roark took a deep breath to calm himself. It was his last.
Written for Short Story Competition in Bookmarked, theme ‘Revenge’ (goodreads)
Written by @Bhavya, May 2021
All Copyright belongs to Bhavya, including the words in Datoli (language made-up by Bhavya)
Bhavya wrote: "Here’s my story. Would love feedback. :)"I haven’t submitted it yet, but I will soon. :)
Ohmigosh......this story!!! Ahhhhh!!!! I love it so so so much!!!!!😍 But now I want to read more but there is no more.....😭😭😭And also, sorry for this dark thought but since they can't die it means that they can be tortured forever......😰😰😰
BookNerd99 | Nickname: Cinder wrote: "Ohmigosh......this story!!! Ahhhhh!!!! I love it so so so much!!!!!😍 But now I want to read more but there is no more.....😭😭😭And also, sorry for this dark thought but since they can't die it mean..."
Aww thank you so much ❤️
I’m so glad you liked it.
(They can die actually, just a human can’t kill them. There are other people who can kill)
Mod
Are we having another contest? :)"
We were thinking of a quote writing contest this time..are you interested?
Rushali wrote: "Bhavya wrote: "Hello!Are we having another contest? :)"
We were thinking of a quote writing contest this time..are you interested?"
Aah I am very bad at that, but I can try! :)
Rushali wrote: "Bhavya wrote: "Hello!Are we having another contest? :)"
We were thinking of a quote writing contest this time..are you interested?"
Ooh I've never heard of that! I've never done it before obviously so I have no idea how good or bad I'd be at it but it sounds interesting!
Mod
Here's my opening paragraph...YIKES I dont have any clue what to think about it 😅 I'm still trying to finish my first draft!