Writing Competition - Round 27 [Voting]

[Fraxinus]

Hey friends. I'm stepping in as a temporary host for the Writing Competition this month. To follow suit with the Drawing Competition, the theme for this month is:

FREE WRITE

I understand the start of the year is busy for all of us, so I'm making this our seventh free write, so please write to your heart's desire.

Send all submissions to me by: Saturday, February 22, 2020 at 23:59 ET (GMT -5).

 

[Fraxinus]

The deadline for writing submissions has just concluded. Thank you to all who entered. <3
The voting round will begin as of me posting this (obviously), and will run through February 29, 2020 at 23:59 ET (GMT -5). A poll has been added to this thread.

Without further ado, let's move onto the entries...

Spoiler: ENTRY 1

It wasn’t the worst cell Lars had ever found himself in. Not that any cell was good, but he’d been in worse, sure. This one at least had room enough for him to stretch his legs out. He sat back against the wall and indulged, wiggling his toes and rotating his ankles. They clicked as he rolled them first one way and then the other, much his satisfaction. It’s the small luxuries that matter when you’ve been locked up.

The ring slid about in his boot, coming to rest by his heel. He held his foot flat and shook it a few times, flinging the thing back up to his toes where he gripped it in place. Best not to step on it. Wouldn’t want to lower its value too much.

Lars sat on the stone floor and waited. He waited for some time.

After a while his backside started to go numb. He longed to stand up, but the guards had shackled his hands behind his back and shoved him to the floor when they’d brought him in, so standing up wasn’t so easy at the moment. His wrists ached and it was creeping into his shoulders. The cell wasn’t feeling as comfortable as it first had anymore. He could pick the lock on the shackles, of course. But his picks were in his front pocket and he couldn’t get to them. He’d just have to put up with it for now.
He made a mental note to keep an extra set in his back pocket when he heard the rusty door at the end of the corridor squeal open. Heavy footsteps on the stone. Slow. Big boots. Someone important, or trying to look important. There were other footsteps, quieter, slightly behind.

Lars didn’t crane his neck to look through the bars at who was coming. He didn’t want them, whoever they were, to think he was interested. So he sat with his back against the wall looking as casual as he could while shackled in the town jail.

The man in the big boots (very big, with a lot of buckles, too, polished to a glistening shine) came into view and stood in front of the cell. He was small, but had made a conscious effort to look bigger. The boots were thick soled to give him a few extra inches and he wore fur-trimmed velvet coats so thick and impractical for the season that they could only exist to make him seem more present. The moustache that made up his lower face appeared to serve the same purpose. What parts of his face could be seen were bright red as though he was holding his breath to fluff himself up like a pigeon. He had his hands on his hips and tilted his head back so he could look down his nose at Lars.

Lars looked back with well rehearsed indifference. The second set of footsteps apparently belonged to one of the jailers. The poor guy seemed unsure if the grand figure beside him was due respect or fear or what. He settled to stand a little behind him, not quite looking at anything in particular.

The big little man grunted then sniffed then tutted, as though he couldn’t decide on which gesture would effectively communicate his distaste. ‘This is the one? Hmmpf. Wouldn’t have thought someone so scrawny could get through my security.’

Ah. So it was his house. And it was his wife’s ring that was currently nestled between Lars’s toes.

To be fair, though, his security wasn’t much. A wall (ooh, haven’t climbed over hundreds of those) and two guards whose idea of patrolling was to have a leisurely smoke in the back yard. The locks on the doors (all the doors, if you can believe that) were standard Type IIs from Pilfeather & Co., a model so easy to get through the doors may as well be left ajar. The house itself had thick carpet in every room (every burglar’s dream) so sneaking about had been laughably easy. Lars hadn’t even crept. He’d walked around as if he lived there. The wife had been taking a bath (the singing was a dead giveaway) and Lars had simply walked into the bedroom, opened the little box on the dresser, and stuffed everything into his pockets.

When he saw the ring he paused for a moment. The band was gold and silver laced together, embedded with gemstones. Sapphires, rubies, amethysts, and right on top was a fat diamond that glittered in the lamp light. A badly executed high note from the wife brought him out of his admiration and he stuffed the ring into his shoe on a whim he later considered to be thief’s intuition. He snooped around some more since he seemed to have the run of the place, only to freeze when a scream had rung out behind him. Within moments the guards had taken the place of the door. Naturally he had been relieved of his loot (the loot they could find, anyway) and now here he was, in his cell, looking at the man he’d just burgled.

‘Someone so flimsy never stood a chance against my private security,’ the big little man said. ‘Hmmpf. You could learn a thing or two from my men, I can tell you.’
The guard behind him tactfully said nothing, but he did turn his head and scratch his ear. Might have mumbled something, too, but his sudden cough made it tough to make out. The big little man glared at Lars, oblivious to the guard.

‘Look at you. Pathetic. Not worth my breath to even speak to you. However, it seems that something you took from me is still missing.’ He leaned forward and crossed his arms. ‘I am going to give you one chance to give it back.’

How generous of him. Lars put on his best confused look. ‘Forgive me, m’lord. The blue belts took everything I purloined from your house. Got me right and proper, they did. A fine set of blokes, if I may say. Finer than me, that’s for sure.’ Behind the big little man the guard stood a little straighter. ‘There’s nothing what I took which wasn’t taken from me in turn, m’lord.’ Apologetic smile, not too wide. Humble shrug, hold for a second. Lars fancied himself the picture of innocence. As innocent as a man caught red-handed could be, anyway.

The big little man’s nostrils flared and he held his gaze on Lars for an uncomfortable length of time. Eventually, he whipped around to the guard. ‘Strip him.’

The guard took a moment to react. When he did, he frowned. ‘You what?’

‘Strip him! He has my property and I want it found.’

‘You want me to get his kit off? Get him naked like?’ The guard looked at Lars, uncertainty etched on his face. ‘I don’t think that’s proper.’

‘Theft isn’t proper!’ Spittle flew from the big little man’s lips. ‘Now get in there and take that man’s clothes off!’ He was so red Lars could swear he saw a moth heading towards him. The guard hesitated, then took the keys from his belt and opened the cell door.

Lars gripped the ring tighter between his toes, frantically trying to think of some way to keep it hidden. Fat Abner would pay a ransom for a piece like this. Lars would be set for months. He couldn’t let it be taken from him, not like this.

‘Sorry about this,’ the guard said. He couldn’t even meet Lars’s eye. Nice to know he was as embarrassed about this as Lars was. Not that Lars had anything to be embarrassed about, of course. The guard took his arm and helped him to his feet. What would go first? His shirt or his shoes? Maybe if he convinced the guard to let him undress himself he could slip the ring somewhere else. Maybe he could swallow it. That wouldn’t be so hard, right?

As the guard started to undress him, Lars’s panic washed away. The cell door was wide open. The big little man was standing back. And the first item of clothing the foolish guard chose to remove were Lars’s shackles.

THE END

Spoiler: ENTRY 2

Human Faces

My younger brother had always been odd; as a baby he'd sleep with his eyes open, as a toddler he'd laugh during a thunderstorm and as a six year old child he'd see things that weren't there...

I used to hate travelling with him.

We; my father, my mother, myself and my brother lived in a rural area between two cities, if we ever needed anything we'd have to drive for miles upon miles along miserable dirt path roads and notoriously dangerous motorways.
My father, never one to leave anyone out, would always make a day of it. A drive into town would always be a family day out, we'd pack our lunches with plenty of water and snacks for the trip there and back.

Before my brother was born I'd always been able to lose myself in the scenery. I'd look out of the car window with my attention focused on the rolling green meadows that would pass us by before the world turned grey with towering concrete buildings on all sides...

With my brother though, things were different.

Whenever we travelled together he'd look out of the backseat window of the car and it'd be as if he could see something that wasn't there.
His head would twitch from left to right, as if he had caught sight of something that was travelling alongside us, faster than we were moving.

He'd never say anything, he'd just watch and wait and twitch.

For me, his behaviour was unnerving. He was so quiet, so focused on seeing whatever it was that'd pass us by on the way, that I'd not be able to take my eyes off him.

Sometimes I'd dare myself to look through his window.

I never saw anything.

But he did.

I'd often ask him what he could see, but he'd never answer.

Sometimes my mother would try to break the silence by laughingly saying that my brother was too caught up in the world outside his window to hear me.

I often wondered if she was unnerved by him too…

Then, when I was only twelve years old, everything changed.

We were on our way to town and he, like always, was staring out through the window, watching and twitching.
My attention was entirely focused on him, watching him watching for something that couldn't be seen.

For years he had been content to sit in silence… I couldn't see his face but I heard his words that day with a frightening clarity.

"Mummy, how many dogs have human faces?"

I felt an icy hand grip my heart upon hearing his question. As ludicrous as it was, as impossible as it was, I suddenly knew what he had been watching all those years.
In my mind I imagined it; a dog running down the motorway, faster than any moving car, a dog with a human face... I felt my eyes tear up at the idea of such a surreal being, I was scared, I didn't know what to do.
I had watched my brother for years watch something from outside of our car window, and his question had revealed to me what it had been, what he had been watching all of those years. He'd been watching something that couldn't exist, something that shouldn't exist... but something that did.

My parents didn't know how to respond, there was a silence between us all; my father and my mother, who exchanged a quick confused glance to one another, my brother who patiently waited for the answer to his question, and myself who was too scared to speak.

"Don't be silly darling, dogs don't have human faces." replied my mother in a tone that was hard for me to define.

Even though her words were ones spoken with logic, with fact and certainty, I knew she was wrong. She had never seen it, not once had her head ever twitched, not once had she seen something out of the corner of her eye pass us by…

She couldn't know for sure... how could she?

For the rest of that day I was as distant as I had known my younger brother to be. I was lost in thought, lost in fear.
I was challenging everything I knew, every fact that I once thought a certainty, everything that I thought existed, everything I thought that was possible in this world now made little sense to me.
Despite my parents' best attempts at cheering me up with ice cream and toys, I just couldn't bring myself to accept the world as I now knew it to be; a one with dogs with human faces which ran faster than cars on motorways...

For hours we walked through the city together, and as we did my mind conjured images as to what a dog with a human face might look like. Would it still have a black dog nose? Would it be more of a human head than a face? Would it be furry? Would it be able to talk?

The images in my head became increasingly vivid, increasingly surreal, increasingly frightening and it wasn't until my mind had settled on an image vivid enough, surreal enough and frightening enough that I heard my mother scream.

She was running around in circles, pushing through the crowd of the city, darting her eyes to and from the nearby road, glancing into shop doorways while shouting my brother's name. He'd been separated from us.

Endless minutes turned into unbearable hours as my parents searched the city for my six year old brother.

It wasn't until another scream tore over the din of the crowd that we found him. A teenage girl, only a few years older than myself had found something in an alleyway. She was crying, she was unable to talk because whatever she had seen had frightened her so much. All she could do was point into the near distance with a trembling finger.

I remember staring up at the girl, she was tall for her age. She was crying so hard that in my mind only one thing could cause such distress; a dog with a human face.

Lost in panic, my father led my mother and I into the alley and around its tight corner. That's when we saw it.

We saw the body of my younger brother lying on his back in a pool of blood with his head facing away from us. His clothes were torn and the skin on his legs and arms had been ripped open.

With a few heartbroken steps my father walked towards the body of my brother. The clothes on the body matched what my brother had been wearing, the body had the same build as my brother with the same hair.
It was definitely him, but with his head facing away from us my father had wanted to be certain. With a gentle hand my father turned my brother's head to face us. My father screamed and my mother fainted.

I couldn't do anything but stare, again I was lost in fear, a fear more real than what my imagination had conjured before.

My brother's head had no face.

His nose, his mouth, his eyes and his ears were all gone, replaced by black holes, torn flesh and the white of his skull.


Months later and it was assumed by the police that my brother had been the victim of a rabid dog attack. Apparently a breeder in the city had released his dogs just days before our visit.
The breeder had had a nervous breakdown over the recent death of his wife and became a recluse. The neglected dogs had turned vicious, hungry and rabid. It had been one of these dogs that had supposedly attacked and killed my brother.

To the police, and to my psychiatrist, I accepted the story as truth even though I knew what had really happened...

We never went back to the city. Instead, my father and mother would always agree on going to the second city, the one just a little further away. It'd cost more in fuel but it'd save on the heartache and bad memories.

It was odd not travelling with my brother, after so many years of watching him it felt odd looking out at the scenery again.

We went as a family to the second city every other week. It was as if driving further away from where my brother had been killed made my parents feel more at peace.
I liked travelling further away too, not because it was as if I was leaving the pain behind, but because I could see him again and know that he was okay...

Sometimes my mother asks me what I'm looking at outside of my window.

She asks me what I saw when my head twitches slightly, when I follow something that passes us by faster than we're moving.

I think, in an odd way, it comforts her to be able to ask me those questions.

I never answer her though, and I know she prefers it that way.

I won't ever tell her what I can see. I won't ever tell her that I can see a dog with a human face pass us by whenever we go to town. I won't ever tell her that my brother is always there with us, running beside us.

I won't ever tell her that I've found the dog that took my brother's face...

Spoiler: ENTRY 3

The thin layer of veneer peeled off the cabin as its rusting boards were illuminated by the pale blue of the full moon. Pearl beads lay strewn across the floor with the door left agape.

The detective leaned back thinking of what must have transpired not even a full week ago. A fire had broken out in the summer home of an orphanage director embroiled in a major scandal. He had been accused of using kids to smuggle narcotics across the state border.

He let out a sigh. His notebook was filled with clues about where to go next but, in the moment, all he wanted to do was take in the sight of the beautifully lit veranda with the sound of owls hooting in the background.

He was reminded of a tragic case he had to bust a few years ago.

A man named Hugo Brown had been using kids to sell hand gun ammunition on the black market, and he would not let them back into his shelter if they did not sell the allotted daily amount. A girl was found dead in the winter streets with her body turned red from the pain of having to endure the terrible cold.

Brown was sentenced to life behind bars for his crimes.

It was a joyful moment for the families of the victims who had sent them to work thinking Brown was the head of a trade school, but the process to get there was a long and winding road. The defense team was composed of some of the finest lawyers in the country. Brown had paid big bucks to prevent his name and reputation from being sullied.

Only when the detective produced photographic evidence of the underground factory where Brown had been manufacturing the ammunition was the case turned around and Brown rightfully judged for his serious crimes.

But this case was different. The suspect in question had been determined long ago but the detective could not track him down. How could such a prominent local figure have disappeared without a trace? It was a real head scratcher.

He closed his eyes and thought back to the lessons he had ingrained in him during his forensics classes. He had already identified a potential suspect location and secured its perimeter but he was having trouble finding relevant pieces of information to track down the suspect. Could there be something with the suspect’s DNA on it to help track down the perpetrator?

He slowly entered the cabin and picked up the pearl beads that were laying on the floor near the entrance. They were the only thing that seemed out of the ordinary. Perhaps he had left in a hurry once the fire had broken out? The detective had determined already that the fire seemed to have been caused by an accident so the orphanage director must have fled in a hurry and dropped the beads.

As he picked up the beads, he noticed a drop of blood on the kitchen floor through their reflection. He swabbed the spot and put the blood sample into a sterile environment to be analyzed by the lab in the nearby city, which had been working with the detective agency to resolve this case.

It was only a start but perhaps this was the spark to light the beginning of the end for Director Copperzick and his criminal enterprise.

The work wasn’t easy but seeing the relief on the faces of those who had been done injustice always brought joy to the detective’s heart. He would make sure this case would also be resolved. But he never could have foreseen what was coming next.

Spoiler: ENTRY 4

The Sulod Initiative​

"Sir, there is a malfunction in the system, what should we do?"

"Proceed as planned, worker 204."

"B-but sir... we should postpone the launch and re-enter test phases!"

"Do as your told 204, surely you wouldn't want to end up like worker 56, correct?"

"Sir, forgive me, I was out of line. The launch shall proceed as planned."

"Very good 204, very good…"

"Would you like to ascend? Project Sulod."

***​

"Citizen Q-23, It's time to wake up! I hope you had pleasant dreams!" a virtual assistant chimed in an upbeat tone.

"Mute" Q-23 gruffed.

Q got out of his bed and it automatically retracted into the wall. Q was 35 years old, but you wouldn't have believed he was beyond his early 20's if you looked upon him. His skin was a vibrant green, and his hair was a light blue. He was average sized, but pretty tall, about 7 feet. As he stretched out automatonic assistants appeared as a holographic screen was put in front of Q. He scrolled through the on screen options of his wardrobe, settling on blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and his leather jacket (some looks just never go out of style). The holographic queue disappeared and in seconds the automontrons took his pajamas off and put the clothes he picked onto him. He stretched out afterwards, combed his fingers through his long hair that could best be described as a devil's lock, and decided to prepare breakfast.

"Pancakes and Bacon" Q ordered.

Not really a preparation in the normal sense, because on the Planet Edtania food can easily be replicated and served in mere seconds. The planet was a Utopia, surely: no famine or disease, anything you could want was readily available with little to no effort, and best of all — there was true equality! From the examining eye this Planetary society was a paragon; however, a deeper analysis would soon prove otherwise.

Q quietly ate his pancakes when an incoming hologram message was requested by his best friend T-75. He accepted the call without hesitation, and before him a hologram of T appeared. T was bulked up with muscle, but an average height of 6'8". He was also in his early 30's, his skin was blue, and he was bald. He was wearing a black sleeveless vest with a green shirt underneath, and dark grey pants.

"Wajin mah fren!" Q said enthusiastically.

"Ayyyy Q! Are you ready to hit the Starlace Club tonight for the unveiling of Project Sulod!" T responded excitedly.

"Ah, yeah... I can't believe we've finally gotten to the point where we've achieved immortality." Q said with a flat tone.

"You don't sound very thrilled. What's up?" T inquired.

"Maybe it's nothing, but I just have an odd feeling about it. I guess I'm a little nervous about the drastic change; I mean after all, in addition to immortality, we are supposed to be accessing some higher dimension previously unknown, what is on the other side, and are we sure it will be good?" Q vented.

"I don't know, man. All I can say is loosen up with all the philosophical stuff and just enjoy the ride! I really doubt these extensions would be going public if they weren't safe." T assured.

"Yeah, you're right. I'll be there! Seeya bro!" Q said

T also said a farewell and the hologram call ended. Q quickly finished his pancakes and prepared for the evening that swiftly approached.

***​

About an hour before the grand unveiling, Q departed. He got into his anti-gravity unit, typed in the coordinates of the club where he had already made reservations with his friends months prior. He sat back as the unit flew him through the holographic lit city. The ride of vibrant flashes should have been fascinating, but on that planet, in that age, reality had become stagnant. Nothing really seemed to matter anymore because there was nothing that could be done to make reality exciting. Anything was needed to make things new and interesting again for everyone; to the point that change was blindly yearned for at any cost.

Q's unit parked inside the club, a door opened leading to the main lobby where a crowd of people were gathered. There was chatter, barely distinguishable above the blaring music being played. Q made his way through the lobby eventually finding T at one of the bars with their friend J-39. She was 27, her skin was a pale white, and her long shoulder length hair was blonde. J wore a modern translucent red dress which revealed her body beneath (on Edtania, nudity was no longer taboo, the same was true of most other things).

They talked for a bit at the bar, and then mingled out into the crowd. The club's main lobby was large with a domed top comprised of an almost invisible force field for stargazing, although nobody ever took time to look up at the stars anymore, as the universe had no more secrets to yield for this society. The building itself was replicated marble cut by lasers, and oddly enough, the precise architecture seemed to be lacking something — it had no artistic soul.

Finally, the portion of the evening that everyone was in anticipation for had begun. The Sulod apparatus was distributed, it was to be applied to the frontal lobe. Once activated the next dimension would be accessed, the secrets of the very fabric of reality would be known, an entire new frontier awaited on the other side.

Everyone unanimously put the apparatus on, a countdown began.

"Are you ready to ascend?"

Q broke into a nervous sweat as his muscles tensed for the plunge. He closed his eyes as the countdown ended, and opened them. Nothing. He looked around and nothing was different for him, he felt the same, reality was the same. He had been left behind!

***​

"HELP!" Q called out in a panic.

"Thank goodness I'm not the only one!" someone replied.

A lot of others all yelled, eventually someone suggested they all head to the stage. Q made his way there, and by time everyone else who had a faulty apparatus made it to the stage it became clear that there were about 50 of them out of the hundreds in the club. During that wait Q took note that the others that had working apparatuses seemed in a daze, oblivious to anything going on around them on this plane of existence.

“What should we do?” a woman asked with a concerned tone.

“Well surely people involved with the project should have stayed behind for quality control in case incidences like these occur! We should get in contact with the developers!” a man responded.

Just then, the group that had working apparatuses all moved and faced them, and began circling them like vultures.

“Everything will be ok.” they all said in unison, “We’ll take away all your pain. We are all the same. We are Sulod.”

“What the ****?” Q thought to himself.

The group that were under the influence of Sulod charged at the minority who were spared from this horrible fate. Those with the apparatus had uncanny strength and abilities, like levitation, they could instantly atomize their victims. What was supposed to be a great new chapter in the history of Edtania had become a nightmare unlike any other before!

Q escaped the massacre in the Starlace Club by entering his parked unit. He went back to his house and put up security precautions. For the next few hours he sat on the floor in tears, he had tried contacting his friends, but they were all already consumed by Sulod. As he sat there, he thought: How would people like him go on living while being hunted by god-like beings? He glanced at his apparatus that had failed, he stood up and wiped the tears from his eyes as inspiration struck him. Q broadcasted a hologram to everyone on the planet that he could. “I know those of us who are still here are hopeless and afraid. The future looks bleak, but I’m broadcasting to tell you there is a glimmer of hope! We have to fight, we have to ascend as well, but this time the way it was envisioned by us all. To beat gods, we must become gods! We at least have to try!”

This piece was inspired by Starset

Spoiler: ENTRY 5

Oh Cursed Dirt
I touch something.
An old, used book.
The sour smell of dust making my lungs feel heavy.
Trying to warn me long before that initial contact.
But I touch it anyways.
And then
A sensation rushes over me.
Not one of excitement, waiting to embark on the adventure within the pages.
But one of dread.
A heavy, stickiness like honey
moves from my fingertips.
Up my arm.
Encompassing my whole body.
Everything itches.
But I dare not scratch, lest I spread that sticky honey elsewhere.
It becomes unbearable.
Until finally, that sweet relief
As scolding hot water sears the flesh of my hands.
Satisfying even the deepest of itches.
I count.
1, 2, 3...
All the way to 30.
And then I count again.
And again.
Finally feeling free from that honey cocoon.
Clean.
Despite the now raw skin.
Cracked and bleeding once again.
On the way out of the bathroom,
I accidentally knock something from a shelf.
Returning the item to its rightful place I notice the film of dust covering it.
I've touched something.

Good luck!

 

[Spiritual Mask Salesman]

I enjoyed all the entries, but Human Faces stuck out to me. The story is an intriguing one and I loved the whole American Urban legend vibe it had going on. It reminded me a lot of old legends that demons would run around the countryside looking to inhabit a soul. As a matter of fact, I've been told stories that my great grandmother and other family members saw some weird glowing ball hopping around the hills near their farm in Tennessee, this was back in like the early 1900's, being religious, they claimed it was a demon. This story is right up that same alleyway.

 

[Fraxinus]

Voting has just ended. Congrats to @Spirit for winning with her entry, "Human Faces." Your badge will be issued shortly.

Special thanks to all who entered:
Entry 1 - Cfrock
Entry 2 - Spirit
Entry 3 - A Link In Time
Entry 4 - Spiritual Mask Salesman
Entry 5 - Morbid Minish

Depending on whether or not we find a permanent host before the next competition, I may host the next one as well. But, until next time, friends.

 

[Spiritual Mask Salesman]

Congrats @Spirit your entry was great! Everyone else contributed a lot of great stuff too, it was hard to pick one to vote for this time!

 

[Spirit]

Ooooh.

Thank you to everyone who voted and who entered to give me the competition and help me improve. <3