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Spiral Architect Contests > June Writing Contest

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message 1: by Theodore, Mind of Sanity (new)

Theodore (ddaythecannibal) | 3078 comments Mod
Theme... Blood.

message 2: by Theodore, Mind of Sanity (new)

Theodore (ddaythecannibal) | 3078 comments Mod
I might as well make the first (and maybe only entry)

Written in Blood
(view spoiler)

message 3: by Theodore, Mind of Sanity (new)

Theodore (ddaythecannibal) | 3078 comments Mod
"Theme... Blood."

Since this the first writing contest of the group... NO THEME

Vyanni Krace ~Wisdom of the bitter sea.~ (vyannikrace) Dead eyes.
Dull and lifeless.
Aged with loss and sorrow, scarred with memories of pain and hardship.
Eyes once filled with a fiery will. The determination to live.
To survive.
Once the eyes of one who would never give up.
Now the eyes of one who has lost the will to live.
Pain has done this to those eyes.
Pain and sorrow.
They tell a tale of grief. The eyes of a person who has seen enough.
Seen too much.
Saved too little.
The eyes of a person who had seen what true horror was.
True pain.
True grief. Suffering.
Too long this person has lived.
You can see it in those eyes.
Those haunting, dead eyes.
Too long this person has lived. Far too long for one who has given up on living.
They just wanted it to end.
Dead eyes.
The eyes of a person drowned in grief. Drowned in Sorrow.
The eyes of a person used as a pawn, over and over again.
Used, betrayed.
Over and over again.
The eyes of regret.
Eyes once filled with life.
Turned to eyes of bitterness. Hate and rage.
Eyes of sorrow.
Now eyes of loneliness.
The loneliness of one surrounded by people, yet isolated all the same.
Neglect has done this to those eyes.
Neglect and betrayal. Over and over again.
Betrayal and loss. So many dead. So many and yet this one is not. The one who wants to die.
Loss and suffering. Living with nothing left to live for. Unable to die. 'Why cant I die...?'
Suffering and pain. The pain of wounds both physical and not.
Pain and hardship. The hardships of one with nothing left to fight for.
The eyes of a person who has lost everything in life.
Even themself.
Dead eyes.
Lifeless, empty eyes.
Eyes without a soul to be the windows to.
The eyes of a person long since dead within their mortal shell.
You see those eyes.
Those cold, harsh eyes.
Those dead eyes.
Any you pray. Pray that you never have to witness those eyes again.
And you pray. Pray that you will never become the one with dead eyes.
That you will never end up the same way.
The same way as the one with those eyes.
Those blank, dead eyes.

Waterfall *Daughter of Northridge Earthquake* (falls) | 1395 comments Mod
I have until the very end of June to write this, right?

message 6: by Theodore, Mind of Sanity (new)

Theodore (ddaythecannibal) | 3078 comments Mod

message 7: by Theodore, Mind of Sanity (new)

Theodore (ddaythecannibal) | 3078 comments Mod
June 30th.

Waterfall *Daughter of Northridge Earthquake* (falls) | 1395 comments Mod
Phew. Thank heavens it's not one of those June-contests-that-really-end-in-the-middle-of-June contests.

message 9: by Theodore, Mind of Sanity (new)

Theodore (ddaythecannibal) | 3078 comments Mod
Why would it end in the middle of June? That's just stupid...

message 10: by Waterfall *Daughter of Northridge Earthquake*, Mediator of Voices (new)

Waterfall *Daughter of Northridge Earthquake* (falls) | 1395 comments Mod
Exactly! It's dumb. Then they take two weeks to 'judge' it and find a winner.

message 11: by Theodore, Mind of Sanity (new)

Theodore (ddaythecannibal) | 3078 comments Mod
...? Why not just use a week or two of the next month for everyone in the group to judge?

message 12: by Waterfall *Daughter of Northridge Earthquake*, Mediator of Voices (new)

Waterfall *Daughter of Northridge Earthquake* (falls) | 1395 comments Mod
Who knows? I agree with you. It's dumb.

(S) Asami Seo Hyun 桜연꽃 꽃 | 195 comments Roses on a black settle day.
Roses that want to take me away.
Roses that are meant to be white.
Are not.
Are black.
Roses on a black settle day.
Roses black as me.
Sway away.
Roses that try to make me smile.
Roses that are black.
Roses on a black settle day.
Try to take me away.
Roses with black petals.
Because black is the only color that stays
A ring around me finger.
Shows me who I am.
A ring of black.
Roses on a black settle day.
Just can’t take me away.

It’s like this. In the beginning it wasn’t. In the end it won’t be. It’s not true when they say nothing stay’s the same. Most people don’t understand. Most never will. But they should. Or their lives are going to end. On my blade.

It’s a gloomy day. I look up at the grey sky. Dark colors suit me. My black hair, grey eyes, tanner skin. I like them too. Behind me they push me. I growl at them. They don’t care. But I’m not going to do it. Nope. If I could fly I would. But I can’t. Yet. It’s odd how I came to be. I wonder if there are more of me. I know there are. I can feel them. They are close. I turn around and looked at them.
They are protecting them. The little weaklings. The puny human observers. They are not scientists. They claim to be but they are not. They created them. The Proc’s. They do not look that different from them now. But they can. They have more physical strength then me. But they are not smarter.
I feel the other’s like me. They are near. There are here. In this prison along with me. They sleep in metal like me. They are captured at birth with their ever changing eyes. I feel their power in mine. The scientists murmur. “Her eyes are turquoise,” I hear.
Turquoise. Not a new color.
“Do it,” One says, trying to egg me on. She is a new one. Her blond hair and round pink lips. She doesn’t understand. “Go on, show us,” she says. I see that glint in her eyes. They want to see amazement. She doesn’t care about me. That doesn’t matter because I don’t either. I want to fly. But I can’t. I cross my arms and glare at her, I will show her what happens when there is no freedom.
“Orange,” I hear them whisper in a warning tone. The Proc’s start coming toward me. But I put out my hand and they are frozen. The sky is grey. I have more power today then any other day. More start going out of Prison. They don’t think I can freeze them all. I think I could if I wanted too. I keep my glare at the blonde’s eyes. She feels scared. Don’t be scared. I whisper to her mind. You’re new. They didn’t tell you anything. I am just a girl right? She looks at me funny. All the other humans scribble down notes. She nods at my thought.
I raise my hand at her and around her a ring of fire. It burns high and she screamed like a little baby. I feel the guns click around me before I hear them. I stop the fire and the blonde women passes out. I can’t help but laugh. Do you know how many times I looked death in the face and laughed? Neither do I. I’ve lost count over the fourteen years I’ve been alive. I put my hands down at my sides. My head down too, letting my long bangs cover my face.
Then I feel them again. They’re coming toward me. My hands are roughly token by hands mutated to be too strong. I almost smile. I look up again, right into the eyes of the blond women, getting up with the help of the other scientists. “Red…” I hear murmured. “Blood red…” Now I crack a thin smile. That seems to be my normal eye color.
I wish I could see the other one coming toward me. He’s like me. I feel him. Him. I can almost visualize him. He’s wearing a smirk. His hair is a bit long. And oddly colored. “You.” I look at the Proc holding my arm. I almost frown. He didn’t say anything. We start heading toward the building again. I really wish I could fly. Dang. “You. Who are you?” It’s in my head. I close my eyes. It’s Him.
So he can talk too. When I open my eyes, I almost know what color they are. Who are you? I whisper back, so it’s barley audible in his head. How strong is he? I am almost thrown toward the door. I recover and turn around and glare at the Proc’s. They growl back at me in return.
“I am god,” A sarcastic voice in my head. So he has a sense of humor. The tips of my fingers tingle with his power. He is near. I don’t play games very well.
The door is opened and I slowly walk through it. They try to push me to go faster, but I stand my ground. “You don’t? Neither do I. You seem strong. We are getting closer. Who are you?” That was a nice long sentence. So he has senses. The white hallways are prison like. The Proc’s guns clink as they march me. Catitsa.
I don’t know my name. My experiment name is Catitsa. So I use it as my ‘last’ name. I chose my own name. The humans have all sorts of names for me, mostly consisting on numbers and letters in a code of some sort. “Experiment name? They talk about you. I can see you.” I can see him. Our hallways have met. They didn’t want this. They try to hurry me along, hold him back. I don’t move. Sometimes atoms are so easy to control. I glare at him, walking toward me. I can feel his power radiating off him. We stop and glare at each other. His eyes are purple. A dark violet purple.
“Purple.” I say.
“Grey.” He replies. His voice is as even as mine. The Proc’s finally raise their guns at me, daring me not to move. I turn to continue, but he reaches out and grabs my arm. I whip around and grab his hand and thrust him backwards. He glares harder at me.
“Wait! Wait! Hold the guns!” I feel a strong minded scientist running down the hallway he came from. He stops when he see’s my fiery red eyes. “Catitsa and Wayland are to go with the….” He dropped his voice to give the orders. Wayland. So he heard of me. They must be more careful around me, not to talk. Maybe it’s because of all the ‘trouble’ I’ve caused. We are marched down the same hallway I came from, under the grey dull sky.
The only difference is, I am not alone in the ‘studying’ area. Besides Wayland there are two others, wearing the same black uniform we are. A scared looking girl with light golden blond red hair and a glowering boy with dark brown hair. They both stare at us in our handcuffs.
“Ah hem.” The scientist that appears to be running things says as we all stare/glare at each other. “Ita,” He points to the girl. “Adam,” The boy. “Wayland,” He points to Wayland. “Catista,” Me. “Now you all know each other. Great, so we want to see how you all react to each other.” He returns to his group of scientists scribbling notes. The girl looks at the ground. “My name is Anne,” she says quietly, “Without the I.” I stare at her.
“Karheem.” The boy growls, making the girl jump. I don’t move. We are being watched. It doesn’t look like any of them have wings. It doesn’t seem like they can fly. Dang. I touch my thumb to my pointer finger, and turn around to face the Procs and scientists. They look at me, still scribbling notes. I wish I could hear the color of my eyes right now. I start walking toward them till I hear the guns click. The others are staring at me.
“What are you doing?” I hear in my head.
Can you fly?
Then run.
Have you ever had the feeling that you know that you can do something? Then you know how powerful that feels. I felt that. And the power of the others like me. I can feel it coursing through my veins, each painful beat enhancing the strength in me.
“Run!” I hear shouted. I feel the others like me run faster than a human. I raise my hand, my two fingers still together. I push it into a fist, light pouring from the small holes between my fingers. The wind picks up. The dusty, dry ground swirls around me. The power is too great. I can’t hang on. It’s too painful. My head is everywhere. Thumping. Thumping.
I let it go. And run. I run, catching up to the others because they are going the same direction as me. Away. Away from this lab. We run till we can’t see the place anymore. The road out is barely able to be seen. Light dust tracks of heavy trucks in the sand. It’s too dark to see now. We sit in a circle.
I glare at them when they look at me. Wayland clears his throat. “What did you do?” I stare at him. They all stare at me. I shrug. Anne nods.
“I felt what you did. You used the energy around you.” She says quietly. “Thank you.” She says even quieter. I look at the ground. We all look at the ground.
“What is your name?” Karheem says. I glance at him.
“Sarai.” I mutter, leaning back to look at the stars. They’re an amazing sight. Nothing like the last time I saw them.
“Sar-a-i?” Anne asks. I barley give a nod. Then the reality hits me. I am miles away from the lab. The place where I was tortured lived in a cell, experimented on, ‘studied’. I’m in the middle of a desert, probably in Arizona or New Mexico, miles away from anything else. With three other like me. Mutants.
“What about you?” Anne asks, looking at Wayland. “What is your name?” He stares at her a minute, then looks at the rest of us.
“Wayland. Nathaniel Wayland.” He sounds so sure of himself, like he a pathetic human. “My mother gave me that name, by the way.” He muttered, making us all stare at him. He looks back at me, right in the eyes. I narrow my eyes. “Your eyes changed colors.” I hear him, but the others don’t. It was in my head.
He shrugs and lies back in the sand. “Looks like we have a long journey to the city. Better get some sleep, if we don’t plan to get caught and brought back to… you get the idea.” Anne shivered and Karheem shrugged. I looked at the sand in my hand, and patted it back to the ground. These people are going to get me killed, aren’t they, I thought. The last thing I remember before sleep overtook me was glancing at Nathan’s eyes. Gold.

message 14: by Theodore, Mind of Sanity (new)

Theodore (ddaythecannibal) | 3078 comments Mod
Okay so you have 10 more hours or so to enter and if you haven't already you need to vote for July's Writing Contest Theme

message 15: by Theodore, Mind of Sanity (new)

Theodore (ddaythecannibal) | 3078 comments Mod
Okay so here is the Link to vote for the winner.


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