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Weekly Contest #221
“Thank you for calling ‘Wraith Wranglers’, where all your spectral, haunting and communicative needs are just a call away! What can we do for you today? – Uh huh, uh huh I see! With the Class B Haunting pack you can expect all the classics that we pride ourselves on, including the ever popular cold chills and faces in the mirror, as well as your choice of either mild poltergeist activity or bleeding walls. – Yes of course, good choice, the bleeding walls are always very popular ma’am. For just a little extra, can I interest you in upgrading ...
She couldn't recognise the house. Not anymore. The subtle flower wallpaper she had been so terribly fond of had been torn so carelessly away only to be replaced with some ghastly geometric eye-strain of colours and irrational patterns. The furniture, both those she had found herself or those given to her from her family had been hauled off to some auction or another or donated to wherever it was that people who wanted to act like they were doing good donated things. In their place stood mockeries of what had been there before, cheap and perp...
Shortlisted for Contest #220 ⭐️
Everybody knew that trolls had been hunted to extinction years ago. It was just common knowledge that they had gone the way of the way of the common European dragon, the garden gnomes and, of course, the great auk. That is a tragedy, of course, but it had also been long accepted as just one of those things that people did, hunting innocent species to extinction, so that people wouldn’t feel quite as bad about their misdeeds for as long as they were able to justify them away as human nature. Now, with that said, Elliot could not quite fi...
Weekly Contest #220
“Are you hungry?” the voice asked, soft as the Spring breeze, but unlike the springtime breezes, the voice instilled upon me nothing less than an icy dread that chilled me to my very core. I had hoped to feign my continued slumber for a while yet, long enough to discern what truly was reality and not just the lingering fantastical afterimages of a dream I had yet to fully awaken. But I had never been an actor, and now I can be quite certain that my treacherously quickening breath had been more than enough to alert whatsoever shared my s...
Weekly Contest #215
The tower had become so overgrown with heavy, creeping vines that its original shape had become so thoroughly obscured it was a wonder that it could be recognized as a tower at all anymore. Time had not been kind to it, nor the area of its surrounds. There were ghosts of what had once been much loved garden in the gnarled roots and overgrown rose bushes with their thorns that seemed eternally seeking to draw blood, the hedges that were once a menagerie of fine topiary now stood as wild beasts in the growing gloom of nightfall. Unseen eyes, v...
The knife felt heavy in the young man’s pocket, the sound of his heartbeat thundered tremendously in his ears, obscuring his already muffled footfalls with each racing thump that sent adrenaline stars to dot the corners of his vision. His hands twitched, each finger joint stiffly moving with anticipation. It was all that he could to do keep his breathing quiet, even with the help of the old, dusty scarf that he looped about his neck and drew up to partially obscure his features. It was an ugly old thing and one that he knew nobody would asso...
There was something so terribly, wonderfully different about them all, and he knew that he was not like them. He knew this in the same sort of way that one knew that the sun would rise the next day or that the worms would pick a skeleton clean, and so he did not question why it was that they were all so very different from him. The answer was perfectly simple after all, he was a monster and they were not. They were not born with the same sort of darkness to them that he was, the same desire to claw and tear and destroy until there was nothin...
Shortlisted for Contest #211 ⭐️
The fire crackled a tune that seemed altogether mocking in its cheeriness, the dancing flames darting up to greedily gobble up the next letter that was tossed to it, setting the shadows to join this strange ebb and flow of flickering light. Yet another letter was tossed into the fireplace, curling first at the corners before burning away under the icy gaze of the woman watching this. She kneeled before the fire, skirts billowing around her like a discarded flower, chestnut hair flowing free about her shoulders, the closest to an emotion reac...
Weekly Contest #205
It was a bad idea right from the very start. Leo knew that he really ought to have stayed in bed and pretended that he had not seen his sister, two years his elder as she neared her eighteenth birthday, slip silently through the garden and out the back gate. If Lilibet was going somewhere after midnight in her night clothes that was her business and her's alone. But he knew, for he had overheard stories that he pretended not to hear, that it was very dangerous for young ladies to go walking about late at night, especially dressed for bed, fo...
Everything was off to a perfectly smashing start, really. The fact that the silence of the cave, usually broken only by the occasional drip of water further into the darkness was, instead, broken by the boy's alarmed hiss as the match burned out faster than he had expected and stung as his fingertips. He shook out the flame before it had the chance to do any further damage to his fingertips than that of which his distracted teeth accomplished. Adrian had hoped that he would have been able to light all five of the bone-white candles he h...
Weekly Contest #191
The lamplight sent shadows flickering and dancing with the wild, reckless abandonment of a lost soul as it drew the passing moths into their inevitable demise at the passing bats as they grew spoilt from the ease of hunting that the turn of the world had enabled. The bite of a winter chill nipped at the heels of those unfortunate enough to find themselves wandering the streets even after clouds heavy with the promise of rain crept in to blot out the stars. Really, it was hardly shaping up to be the sort of evening that anyone without prior p...
Weekly Contest #190
“Speak now.” The voice rang out loud through the near-silent throne room, a profound heaviness to it that one would think would have been enough to urge even the more obstinate of listeners to obey. Typically, it would too, so it was an altogether reasonable assumption that this would not have been an exception to this rule. In fact, of those who had gathered thereabouts, more than one had to fight the urge to raise their own voice when they were not spoken to.So, really, by all rights this shouldn’t have been an exception, but the here...
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