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Weekly Contest #319
The pen and Arthur Sandoval Nightmare’s, the stench of coffee, and cigarettes. What are all these a product of? Being a writer. This is what I thought. I am writing this story from the post-conviction of my transgressions. Let’s start at the beginning. My name is Arthur, Arthur Sandoval. I am in a wheelchair now. Lost half of my bodies limbs to feed this monster. That God damn pen. That magic pen. I can’t sleep anymore. I can’t sleep! I cannot stay awake either. I’m somewhere in between the world of living and the world of the dead. The nigh...
Weekly Contest #316
Warning lots of violence. Not for the weak at stomach. Serial Lovers Who am I? I’m Scott Warner. A serial killer. Have you ever walked alone or felt someone watching you, that was probably me. I hunt my prey. I learn my victims before I capture them. I'm on a hunt right now. I've been following him around for 2 weeks. I can predict his every move. You all really need to change up your routine. You make it too easy. I fucked up. I let myself fall for him. i had all intent to torture this man until his heart stopped with him blood all around...
Weekly Contest #314
As Jeffrey walked to the basement, he stopped to look at that old tarp covered machine, that his great grandfather built and was handed down. His father had told him about it when he was a kid. It did not look like much. It was an old piece of junk. He walked over to the deep freeze to grab some meat for dinner.Jeffrey had a simple life. He had a job at the local bank, and he never married. He fed Sylvester and grabbed his jacket, walked out the door and proceeded to begin another day of exactly the same thing.He took his car keys out of his...
Weekly Contest #309
My mom’s been dead now 27 ½ days, but it feels like 27 ½ years. Losing her has been hard. No more phone calls at 6am, telling me to get a job. It annoyed me at the time, but now I really miss it. Why? Why did this happen? She was so young, barely 60 years old. By the time they diagnosed the cancer, it was already too late. She withered into something unrecognizable. By the end, she was well under 100 pounds, with sunken cheeks. She was a woman who spent her life finding beauty in her surroundings through the lens of a camera, only to have it...
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