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Our Writing > Writing Contest #1

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message 1: by Sky (last edited Jul 18, 2011 07:39AM) (new)

Sky | 182 comments Mod
Our first annual writing contest!
The winner will be chosen by poll. This can be a previously written piece

Date: July 14th to July 28th

Prompt:
Write a poem/short story involving a mythical creature. It can be any creature. A vampire,a werewolf,a faery. Absolutely anything!

How to:
Title:
Genre:

Entry

By: your name


Good luck!


message 2: by Ally (last edited Jul 14, 2011 12:18PM) (new)

Ally (tennis_reader) | 20 comments Title: Deception
Genre: Free verse


They walk elegantly
A deceptive predator
With a perfect face
Nobody suspects a thing

Until they pull you into the world
Of the Fey
And everything is lost

Their deceptive game is won.

By Ally!


message 3: by luhvBOOKS (new)

luhvBOOKS ((Question: What happens to the winner?))


message 4: by Sherry (new)

Sherry (sdmccarty) ((Thank you!!))

Title: The Long Night
Genre: Short Story - dark

The night was a long one if you knew the right people. I knew the right people. I was the right people. I also read the four or so papers written by people with fancy degrees saying that it’s not possible for vampires to exist. I have serious qualms with what they purport. As a vampire, I find it a little disturbing. Then again, Japanese people must also feel a little disheartened when they read the essays saying they won’t exist in about fifty years. However, this does not diminish my anger.

One of the fools who ‘researched’ the vampire ‘legend’ is now at a party I had her invited to. Deborah Hillcrest. A doctor of geometry. The first one to start this little research project. Using mathematical models to ‘prove’ vampires couldn’t exist " that we would have destroyed the food source a few centuries ago. We’re blood-suckers, not dumb. We have strict conservation laws and a meeting before anyone turns anyone. Those who don’t follow the rules are no longer my friends. And those who aren’t my friend find themselves on the other side of immortality.

A friend of mine invited the little twat to the party after a conference for number crunchers. I don't begrudge my friend his chosen course of study, but I don’t particularly like Math, in any of its forms. I’m more of a literary sort, after all, I read her paper and nearly typed up a reply to her. Apparently, as my secretary says, four letter words are not in vogue anymore. Forever youthful, yet a fad behind. But that is okay, I have a more classic sense of things, and, after all, everything old becomes new again…eventually.

I see her talking at the bar. She is drinking wine and trying to chat up the man who brought her. She has no chance of success at that. I slowly stand up from my towering perch. The dance club we are at is large. I sit above it all " watching. The place is packed with those of our numbers, and mortal folk alike. The mortals " the bleeders " are the normal kind we attract for a reason. Druggies. Drunks. The more they are into their vice the better. We are rich enough to always have someone out handing it out to them. They always take it, not caring where it came from, who it came from. It could come from the Devil himself and they wouldn’t care. I bet that Deborah doesn’t believe in the Devil either. Perhaps debunking him is next on her list. While thinking over the possibility I stalk down the stairs. People part before me. My people as well as the druggies and drunks. I admit, they make a wonderful spectacle " the bleeders. Dancing and playing around like little children. We don’t ever take any of them " they are too unclean. We like pure blood. Only the good doctor is the kind we like. She has no vices to speak of, and isn’t pretty enough to be too spoiled in that respect either. Not that we fancy virgins, it’s just that they are a little more tasty. Just like the oil " extra virgin is a little better than just virgin. So it is with people; a virgin is a little better than a person who hasn’t gotten any in a while.

I stalk up to the bar next to her. I turn on the charm and smile at her. Gently I take her attention off the man who brought her. He falls away into the crowd. The music starts to fade " she doesn’t notice.

Are you Deborah Hillcrest, the writer of the paper on vampires, I begin. She smiles and says yes. I start to debunk her theory with simple biological and survival factors. She says that she has thought about these and thought them irrelevant " that a stupid beast like a vampire wouldn’t think of them. I smile. Behind the sweet eyes and smiling face I let my fangs grow. She falters a touch. She’s noticed the music has silenced. She looks up, I open my mouth and take her life from her.

We leave her body in her house. Let the police think that she was murdered by a crazy person. After all, vampires don’t exist. It’s mathematically impossible.


Jasmine | ModernScrolls (modernscrolls) Title: Elven Warrior
Genre: Poetry - Free Verse


Slender and fragile looking,
But muscles lie underneath.
Embrace me in your arms;
Baby smooth.
I sink in and wrap my arms around you,
Your smell fills me up.
No expensive cologne could compare.
You smell different;
You smell like nature, like Earth.
You smell good.
You kiss me softly then pull away,
I knew you couldn't stay.
It's not that you don't want to, it's that you can't.
Go fight, protect me.
Keep me safe.
But protect yourself,
And come back for me,
My elven warrior.


message 6: by Picture (last edited Jul 24, 2011 07:06AM) (new)

Picture  Perfect (picturesperfect) | 34 comments Title: Doesn't Look Back
Genre: Poem


A thunder thumping in my chest.
Falling down over and over again.
A stampede of centaurs.
But I only want him and only him.

He shyly approaches me.
And all I want to do is hold him
And stroke his soft back
Like a mother would do.

But I am not his mother.
I am no one to him.
I am nothing.
But he still smiles.

I stare at the hand he held out.
Should I take it?
Does he remember?
Does he remember me?

I ignore his hand.
I reach up and embrace him
Instead. He looks surprised,
But wraps his arms around me.

“Vance,” I hear his brother
Call him and I feel helpless.
Will he do it again?
Will he make him not remember?

I want him to remember me.
I want him so much.
Like a sad song plays in the background,
He turns around and leaves.

He doesn’t look back.
He doesn’t look back.
Forgotten.
A love lost.

I watch him majestically gallop
Through the hills like a knight.
I thought he loved me. He did.
He had to. But what’s the point?

He’s forgotten. And only I remember.
Oh, God, take me too!
And even that wish isn’t granted,
I’m only human.

Alone inside and out.
While a stampede of centaurs
Breaks my heart.


message 7: by Savita (new)

Savita (haltranger) | 417 comments Title: Sweet Deceit
Genre: Short Story

Entry: He stood before her, arms folded over his lean chest. Vague outlines of muscle were overshadowed by the nighttime darkness, though the full moon shone on his inky-black hair. His striking blue eyes were bright and unreadable, but that wasn't the focus of Elaine's attention. No, her eyes were drawn to something far more mystical. From his broad back, long wings unfurled, shimmering in a nearly translucent way. She watched in utter awe, kneeling on the ground, her reverent gaze fixated on his wings. Neither black nor white, they seemed to reflect all the colors in the world yet be colorless at the same time. The occasional glimpse of smooth, sleek feathers were all that kept Elaine from believing they were fake. His handsome face was marred by a long scar along his high cheekbone. The planes of his face were sharp and angled, belying naught of his thoughts.
Elaine.
She blinked dazedly, the shock of hearing his voice in her head hardly registering. A half smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
"Touching. I seem to have rendered you speechless." His voice was velvet smooth, deep but without any trace of emotion.
Elaine remained silent, awestruck. He took a single step towards her, arms falling to his sides and tucking his thumbs in his jeans, already slung low around his waist. She swallowed hard, eyes widening in the slightest. His beauty and grace overwhelmed her, all else fading to the background. Another step, and her heart sped up, slamming against her ribcage.
One more step.
Her breath hitched in her chest. A final step, and he was mere inches from her. His hand reached out, thumb brushing across her bottom lip. She tilted her head up, gazing at him in utter rapture. His eyes flashed, though whether it was menace or concern was impossible to distinguish. He caressed her cheek, hands slipping down to her shoulders. His breath tickled her ear, and a shiver shot up her spine.
"Goodbye," he whispered huskily.
A tremor shot through her. He lifted a hand and traced the line of her jaw.
"Goodbye," he repeated, resting a hand over her heart. A chilling cold seeped into her body, but she remained oblivious. It spread outward, from her chest to her toes and fingers, but he filled her world. His wings folded around them, holding her upright in a gentle, soft, embrace. Tilting her chin up with two fingers, he brushed his lips against hers, the lightest of kisses.
"Farewell, my sweet Elaine," he murmured, wings solidifying into the deepest black.
Then--nothing.

By: Savita


message 8: by Alex (new)

Alex | 73 comments Yeah I wanna know too!


message 9: by Sky (new)

Sky | 182 comments Mod
Sorry.I was gone


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