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Weekly Contest #275
My other self first contacted me through LinkedIn, of all the godforsaken places. While I was hunched over my laptop at 3 AM, eating microwave burritos and pretending to care about quarterly projections, she sent me a connection request. The profile picture was me, but a version that hadn't spent the last five years marinating in fluorescent lighting and cryptocurrency trading. Her hair was the violent purple I'd abandoned after my mother told me I looked like someone had beaten me with a grape popsicle. "You've become everything we used to...
Weekly Contest #273
5th June, 18— In the somber hours of this night, I write my first journal entry, driven by an irrepressible need to document the transformation of my soul. Like Marcel, the vampire that made Antoine, I have stolen the fire of life itself, and now I burn with an unholy flame. Oh, that I could un-know what I have learned, un-see the depths of depravity to which I have sunk! It has been a fortnight since that fateful eve at the opera, when I, in my cursed hunger, extinguished the radiant light that was Lady Amelia Blackwood. Her visage haunts...
Weekly Contest #272
It was a fortnight past when I, at the urging of my mentor Antoine, ventured forth onto the teeming streets of London. The opera house, that grand temple of mortal artistry, was to be the stage for my test of will. As I entered its hallowed halls, the crush of humanity threatened to overwhelm my senses. Each heartbeat a temptation, each breath a torment. Yet it was there, amidst the glittering throng, that I first laid eyes upon her. Lady Amelia Blackwood, a vision of loveliness that surely the angels themselves must envy. Her raven tresses...
16 June, London, 1821 I pen these words by candlelight, my hand still trembling from the events of this eve. Alexander's first hunt has left me both exhilarated and deeply troubled. I fear I have unleashed upon this world a force I may not be able to control. As dusk fell, I roused Alexander from his death-like slumber. His eyes, now a preternatural green, opened with alarming speed. "Antoine," he gasped, sitting up with inhuman grace. "The hunger... it consumes me." I placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “We shall hunt soon enough. B...
Weekly Contest #271
The streets of London pulsed with an otherworldly energy as the sun dipped below the horizon. I moved through the encroaching darkness, my footsteps silent on the worn cobblestones. Two centuries of undeath had not dimmed the allure of this old city for me; if anything, its blend of decay and vibrant life called to me more strongly with each passing year. As I turned onto Shadwell, a figure caught my eye—a man standing motionless before an antiquarian bookshop, staring at the weathered antiques in the window. There was something achingly fa...
The soothing scent of lavender filled the yoga studio, blending with the soft hum of meditation music. A delicate warmth enveloped the room, courtesy of dimmed overhead lights and glowing candles. Zoe unrolled her mat in the far corner, just where the sunlight trickled through the frosted windows, casting patterns on the polished wooden floor. She took a deep breath, trying to ground herself. Yoga had become her ritual, the one place where she could disconnect from the noise of everyday life and reconnect with herself. As she sank into a se...
Weekly Contest #270
I stepped into the restaurant as if I owned every breath of air around me. The click of my heels marked the rhythm of every gaze turning my way. I wore a black silk dress that curved around my body as if tailored by the gods themselves, hugging every slope and contour from the slight dip at my waist to the elegance of my shoulders. The soft candlelight from the restaurant’s lanterns highlighted my alabaster skin and the deep cascade of my dark hair that fell in waves, contrasted with my sharp green eyes. Across the table sat Julian, tousle...
Weekly Contest #269
The woman, gasping for breath, ran down the wet, deserted alley, her heels clicking on the pavement. The rain fell hard, splattering onto the puddles around her, but she hardly noticed. All she could think about was getting away from the men in the bar. She slipped and almost fell, catching herself on a dumpster before regaining her balance. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked back at the bar's entrance, half-expecting to see them emerging any second. But it stayed dark and silent. Maybe they bought her story. Maybe they were still...
Weekly Contest #268
Physical violence, or abuse, sexual intercourse (heterosexual), psychological distress Just three months ago, I was Dr. Amber Frost, a rising star in the field of quantum physics, on the verge of a breakthrough that could revolutionize our understanding of parallel universes. I'd had a loving fiancé, a beautiful apartment in the heart of the city, and a future so bright it was blinding. But then everything unraveled. First came the anonymous emails questioning the validity of my research. Then, the whispers in the hallways of the universi...
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