Okay so a long time ago, waaaaay back in the mid 2000s there was a site called Worth1000. The place was mostly for photoshop contests, but they also held short story contests as well. I probably would have never bothered with the place, but DEP was scared to submit something by himself so he asked the rest of the reprobates on Infinite Story to help, and of course I was the only one who bothered to help his ass out.
Anyway, since that site hasn’t existed in a few years now, it was a good thing I saved all this stuff. And with the Creative Corner now, there’s a place to finally put these.
Now one thing that will definitely stand out is there is absolutely NO swearing whatsoever. That’s because the site was full of fucking prudes (or at least the judges were). So these are a pretty rare sight from me.
Anyway here they are, and I added some brief commentary for nerds that like that sort of thing.
So this was the first one I did. The topic was picking some weird addiction. Can’t remember exactly how I went with something like this, but it was weird enough to get second place I guess.
It starts out simple enough; you bring home a few magazines that you bought from the store and settle down to read. But wait! What’s this? It’s a bunch of little subscription cards inside the magazine. Not just one either, but several, all in strategic locations of the magazine and urging you to get a subscription and telling you what to do. Some of them come falling out in your lap to attack you, while others are stapled inside refusing to move until you take the initiative to remove the paper parasites. After you rip these out, you check your other magazines and just like the first, they’re infested as well, so you rip them out too and return to reading, not realizing that a dangerous habit is forming.
The next time you’re in the book store, you go to the magazine section again just to browse now. Once again you encounter the little cards inside. Sure you’re just browsing, but these cards, they seem to mock you and you can’t let them get away with it. You decide to do it. You look around to make sure no overzealous store clerk is watching and you tear them out. You feel that euphoric rush surge within you. When you first ripped them out, you were more annoyed, but now you feel good. You enjoy it all, the tear it makes, the crumpling of it, everything. Now you don’t even care if you rip a little bit of magazine along with it, all you want is that card at any cost.
Now you’re going to the bookstore everyday, lurking around the magazine section like the pathetic junkie you are, waiting patiently for people to move away so you can do your thing. It’s too slow! You can’t wait anymore, you begin taking more risks, you start ripping the cards out around customers you think won’t care. You get some strange looks, but nobody really says anything. It’s good! You can participate in your card ripping fix without fear! And then it happens, you get careless and forget to look out for the actual store workers who are none too pleased with you vandalizing defenseless magazines. They expect you to pay for them all, but you can’t because you quit your job to hang around in the bookstore all day. They throw you out and ban you. You don’t care though; you just go to a different one and repeat the process all over again, until you’re eventually banned from every bookstore in the state. Even convenience stores have a photo of you so they can run you off when they see you approach.
You try the old substitute of tearing mattress tags, but it just isn’t the same and can’t possibly compare to the RUSH of tearing magazine cards. You are sickened by what you’ve become. You eventually end it all by stealing a magazine and slashing your wrists with the card inside that made you into this empty shell today.
This one was basically taking fairy tale characters and putting them in some sort of situation. Actually I don’t even remember what the hell we were supposed to be doing with them, I just sort of channeled “Alpha Wolf” a bit and won first place somehow.
This Ain’t No Fairy Tale
“Wolf, its over, we have you surrounded! Release the hostages and come out with your paws up!” Captain Goose shouted through her megaphone.
“Never! I’ll kill this pretty red wench and her decrepit granny first!”
Captain Goose shook her head. She knew he’d do it too. Wolf was a bloodthirsty predator. He was already wanted for a string of brutal murders. Something might’ve been done sooner had some juvenile delinquent not been prank calling the station claiming there was a murderous wolf lurking about his house every ten minutes. Ironic he and his family should be Wolf’s first victims.
By the time the bodies were found, Wolf had already moved on to his next victim, Little Bo Peep. She was found when an officer went to finally check out her call about her lost sheep. Her half eaten corpse was lying next to her broken staff. Apparently Wolf reunited Bo with her sheep…in his stomach.
That was bad, but it wasn’t anything compared to the brutality he inflicted on the three little pigs. He bashed in the doors of two of their houses and tortured them to death as they squealed for their lives. The third pig he waited to come out of his house to check his mail and then butchered him in broad daylight before screaming children.
This mad dog had to be put down, before he killed again. Captain Goose was not going to let anymore murder occur in her normally peaceful town.
“Alright, I’m here Goose. Let me handle this.” A voice said.
Captain Goose turned around and it was Jack, or Jack the Giant Killer as he was known. Great that was all she needed, a loose cannon who played by his own rules.
“Go home Jack! We don’t need this situation getting any worse with your down and dirty tactics!”
“Oh yeah right, it looks like you got the situation well in hand Goose. Stop talking with this murderer and let me go in there Captain!”
“No! You go storming in there and Wolf will kill Red and her grandmother!”
“They’re probably already dead and he’s just playing with us for kicks! I’m going in!”
“You do that and you’re off the force!”
“You said that before I killed the Giant!” Jack yelled and began to head back to his motorcycle.
Jack revved up his Harley.
“Don’t do it!” Goose said.
Jack stepped on the gas and sped towards the house. Wondering what all the yelling was outside, Wolf went over to the window just in time to see the motorcycle heading towards it. Wolf narrowly avoided being decapitated by the wheels when it crashed through. Wolf ran at Jack as he was attempting to recover from slamming into the wall. Wolf grabbed Jack and killed him with a quick bite to his throat, ripping it out.
Jack would be Wolf’s last victim as Goose and her officers stormed the house and shot him until his bullet ridden body fell to the ground with a metallic “clank”.
It was over.
“Captain, we found Red! She’s in the next room tied up and scared, but unharmed…the grandmother though…well it looks like Wolf already killed her long before we arrived.” Officer Hansel reported.
“Very well, call the meat wagon to pick up the bodies.” She sighed as she walked over to Jack’s body, while lighting up a cigarette.
“Damn it Jack. I tried to warn you that those stunts would get you killed one day. It’s like I’ve always said, this is real life…”
Goose took a puff of her cigarette.
“This ain’t no fairy tale.
Okay so I don’t even remember what the topic was for this one. I think it was supposed to be picking an emotion and making it a powerful positive force. Naturally I went with hate, because I’m fucking edgy like that. (And I just channeled Paradise Violated because I’m also fucking lazy like that)
No Hate. No Peace.
Who could’ve anticipated that hate could be a positive force?
The day we lost it was the day humanity died, but I shall make it live again.
Throughout humanity hate has always been there. It was there during the Roman Era, it was there during the Dark Ages, and of course it was there during World War Two. Hate has always been there. It saturated our very being; it infested our politics, our religions, and our way of life. “Love conquers all” was a fairy tale. Hate is what drives us to do great…and terrible things.
It was thought that hate would eventually cause us to destroy ourselves, and it nearly did in 2096. It was a time when the Earth was a complete war zone, but it was also when THEY came. The Keslak. A race of conquerors from the stars. It was then when we learned what hate could truly accomplish.
Their first attacks came without warning. We were unprepared, still engaged in our petty self-hatred and fighting each other. More bombings occurring, then invasions, then worse…
And that’s when hate really kicked in. It united us in a way that had never been done before. We didn’t care about our petty differences anymore. We weren’t black, white, gay, straight, Jewish, or Muslim, we were human.
And we all hated the Keslak.
We struck back with everything we could, never giving up, and driven by hate. We didn’t just kill them, we butchered them. We didn’t just drive them from our planet; we took their technology so we could take the fight to them. And we didn’t just kill a few million, we killed them all.
The Keslak were nothing more than a memory and at last the dream of idealistic fools had come true. World Peace had occurred, and it was all thanks to hate. Our hate achieved peace; it made us strong, made us survive.
Humanity didn’t fight itself anymore. Now it was a galactic power, it had plenty of others to fight. It started with annexing a planet here, enslaving a race there, and the usual. We were only trying to protect ourselves and maintain our peace. We’d be damned if we were going to let some Godless Aliens take that away from us. No, they all were the enemy and we hated them all. Even those “peaceful” ones were merely trying to buy time to attack us and destroy our peace later. We knew that, after all it’s what we’d been doing to each other for centuries. As time went on, several of these treacherous alien species formed a grand intergalactic alliance against us. We laughed and waged a war of peace on them. It was only a matter of time anyway. We fought and they fought, hate was strong on both sides, but ours was stronger. It always had been.
And then came the day it disappeared. Some say it was caused by a new weapon, others even say it was some sort of punishment from a divine being. We’ll never know I suppose. It just disappeared.
We still fought, but for some reason we just didn’t feel the hate anymore. We were just going through the motions. We were just mindlessly killing like robots. There wasn’t any emotion behind it. We all knew it was missing, but we couldn’t do anything about it. We were like eunuchs. Even when entire populations of us were killed, entire planets blown into dust, we still couldn’t feel that same hate that we used to.
We’d lost our edge. We’d lost our weapon. We’d lost our peace.
When the Alliance invaded our world they made us pay for what we’d done, but some reason they didn’t end us as we did the Keslak. Instead we were confined to our ravaged planet and held under constant watch from space. We became an example to be mocked, and worse…pitied. We were disorganized without hate. We became wandering nomads on our planet, with no goal other than to exist. Every now and then some overzealous Alliance members come down and hunt a few hundred of us to make sure the population doesn’t get too big.
Now I remain here as one of the defeated once hateful race. Trying to get that old feeling back that eluded us and caused our fall, because I know that one human full of hate can achieve much.
We shall know peace again.
I’m starting to feel the hate come back.
And it feels…human.
Again, I’m not even sure what the topic was, but I won third place with this one. It would also be the LAST time I won anything over there. Lol.
I actually thought this one was one of the better ones I wrote. Probably was inspired by that scene from Final Destination 2 where everyone gets fucked up in the freeway accident.
A Stone’s Throw
Today is the day.
I was chosen to cast the first stone. I saw it in a vision sent to me by angels. No longer can I be on the sidelines, I must act. Only I can prevent the wicked from spreading their filth in this town
This stone should be sufficient to carry out my work. Holy work. Just like David slew Goliath with a mere stone, I shall perform a similar deed with the evil I face today.
I stand above them all, yet they cannot see me. I am bathed in a spiritual shield of invisibility to ensure I am able to carry out my work. Only the virtuous come to this rooftop, and I’m the only one here. It has to be me. God has willed it.
Here he comes like clockwork down the street, driving that infernal moped of his in an attempt to show off for some common women of low moral fiber. He is nothing more than a purse-snatcher, a lowly thief. He uses the same moped to make his getaways.
The stone is thrown. My aim is true. Could it be any other way? Righteous fury guides my hand.
The stone hits the purse-snatcher in the face, or more specifically his eye. Had he been wearing a helmet, perhaps he would’ve been better protected, but the wicked are arrogant. They never think they’re going to be punished for their ways.
But this purse-snatcher is not my only target today; he is but the first of the scum that will be cleansed. I am about to witness my reward for my devotion and piety.
The purse-snatcher falls off his moped and smashes the back of his head into the hard pavement, cracking his skull. The harlots he was attempting to impress make high-pitched squeals and predictably run around chaotically, not paying attention to the glass movers who are attempting to do their job. Both harlots run into the large windowpane shattering it and shredding their faces. Never again will they be able to use their wiles to lure others into the sin of lust.
The moped continues to move by itself even without its now dead rider. It hits a bump and flies directly into an oncoming truck driver’s windshield. A trucker who would grab innocent little children into his truck and use them for his own twisted pleasure before dumping their bodies on some lonely highway. His days of being a wandering murderer are at an end.
His truck swerves into a school bus, dooming all those future criminals inside. I can almost hear their screams as the bus rolls over several times. I have no sympathy for these juvenile delinquents. They chose to bully and prey upon those they considered weak. It is only now that they understand that they are not tough or strong at all. They are helpless before God’s might. God has no time for mercy. The time of cleansing and judgment are at hand.
The school bus eventually stops rolling and explodes near a church. Hot burning metal pelts the wedding that was coming out. Wedding guests fall as the cleansing fire shards collide into them. The groom sees his bride fall when a large piece impales her heart, just before he is also struck down by another piece. I have done what the corrupt police could not, wiped out a family that had underworld dealings. How dare they use God’s house to celebrate their incestuous second cousin marriage and how dare the priest allow it. He pays for his blasphemy when a large flaming piece decapitates him.
A nearby ambulance rushes to the scene to attempt to save some of these sinners, but holy punishment cannot be denied. One of the shredded harlots, still running and screaming blindly gets in its way. The driver swerves, crashing into a lamppost and flying out of his windshield.
My holy work is finished. I slip away unnoticed, leaving the sinners in the torment they brought upon themselves.
People called that day chaos. I called it purity.
The town will never forget that day and if they do, then the cause of divine justice is just a stone’s throw away.
I hate contests and I hate fucking timed contests even more. This was one of those “Write a story in 30 minutes (I think it was 30) with only so many words Ragh!” Ugh, I’m not even sure why I bothered with doing this one, probably DEP was begging for someone to join him again.
I tried to do a gimmick of including the “time” in the story in an attempt to be a special snowflake, anyway, as far as I’m concerned it’s the worst of the lot. Reminds me of the beginning of Pulp Fiction.
“So when’s this guy supposed to show up?”
“Seven ‘o clock. What time is it now?”
“About six thirty, we got thirty minutes left. You sure he’ll be here on time?”
“Yeah, and will you calm down? This guy is always punctual; it’s one of the few redeeming qualities about him from what I heard.”
“So who is he anyway?”
“Since when does the background matter to you?”
“I don’t know I’m just trying to pass the time.”
“He’s a regular businessman just trying to his way up the ladder as usual. Nothing special.”
“Well something must be special, if we’re supposed to meet him.”
“Not necessarily, I mean we have to meet people all the time.”
“I guess you’re right. Hey did you see the game last night?”
“No, I was over at Joey’s he had a problem I needed to help him with.”
“What, again? I swear he doesn’t know what the heck he’s doing, he’s not going to be in business too much longer.”
“I know. I charged him extra for the over time I had to put in. Speaking of which, what time is now?”
“About six forty five. Fifteen minutes left.”
“Hey I bought that boat I wanted.”
“Oh so you finally laid out the money huh? I’m surprised; I know how cheap you are.”
“I’m not cheap, I just don’t waste my money so easily on wine, women and song like you do!”
“Yeah whatever, so what made you change your mind?”
“Oh I just figured life is too short, we all only got so much time left on this earth you know what I mean?”
“You don’t have to tell me that. You’re preaching to the choir here.”
“My wife likes it when we sail in it too. So what time is it now?”
“About six fifty five. Five minutes left.” “I think I hear him, he’s a little early. You ready?”
“You know it.”
“Okay, its show time.”
“HEY, TONY SENDS HIS REGARDS!”
“Well that was easy.”
“Yeah, and two minutes to spare. Time to go get something to eat.”
So this is another one I can’t even remember what the topic was. I think it was supposed to be about a character having insomnia or worrying about something. In any case, I sort of got off topic and just did my own thing anyway. Sort of surprised it didn’t get rated lower for not being on topic.
Can’t sleep again. Got a lot on my mind. I can’t go on like this; I’ve been like this for three days.
How did things turn out this way?
I remember. The government was corrupt. Life was harsh. It was no way to live. It wasn’t safe. Something had to be changed. So a small group of us decided to finally do something about it. Sometimes I wonder if it was the right decision. Maybe it would’ve been better to just try to leave the country.
I need a drink. Definitely not coffee though. What would be the point? I’m wide awake. Alcohol doesn’t even make me pass out. Too much on my mind.
I remember the first time I couldn’t sleep. It was just after I killed my first man. I never did anything like that before. I felt sick. I couldn’t help but think about that soldier’s family, but I had to get used to it though. The revolution could only be won through forceful means.
Better not stand too close to the windows. Who knows if some assassin’s bullet will find me. Even in the night they could be out there. I better make sure this place is secure. I can never be too safe. My enemies are still out there.
My pistol. Loaded and ready by my side as always. I have to walk around armed at all times. Just in case. You never know. They could breach the perimeter.
This is no way to live.
The revolution was bloody. Too much pain. Too much violence. It was necessary, but regrettable. Some of the things that had to be done… attacking military targets wasn’t always enough. Sometimes in order to get a point across, those that supported evil indirectly needed to be awakened.
But we were fighting tyranny. It was all for the greater good. The government was evil. We were heroes.
I hear another explosion as I take another drink. I hear more gunfire in the distance. More death. It never ends.
So many deaths during the revolution. I saw friends I’d known since childhood die in front of me. I even lost some family members. I weep for them all to this day.
My wife is up. She wants me to come to bed as usual. I wish I could. Believe me, I do. I would like nothing better than to sleep and lie in her arms. She’s so lovely. We met during the revolution.
I tell her to go back to bed. I know she would rather keep me company, but I wish to be alone. I have a lot on my mind.
There was much rejoicing and change after the revolution. The old order was dead and something better could take its place. We didn’t realize how hard that would be until the day actually came. Destruction is always easier than creation. But that didn’t deter us. We were up for the challenge.
I just wish we could’ve all agreed on what would be best though.
All the arguing and fighting wasn’t helping. Nothing was getting accomplished and several warring factions would’ve just destroyed everything we tried to achieve.
Eventually I decided to settle things.
It was unfortunate, but the country at that point needed stability more than ever. It needed to be safe. It needed just one voice of clarity.
My daughter is up now. She wants to know what’s going on. I allow myself to smile and tell her that everything is alright and she should go back to bed. She complies.
The changes I made were for the greater good, but I was facing opposition. Did they not see I was making things better? These ingrates and idiots who cowered in their homes while I actually did something about the terrible conditions in this country feel that THEY can judge and criticize me?
I tried to accommodate them, but they were unreasonable. They wanted paradise, when there is no such thing! More of them rebelled openly. I gave them freedom and this is how they repay me?
I did what I had to do to maintain order. They should understand. This is madness. I was a hero and now they call me evil?
Now more killing goes on and nothing is safe again. I just wish this would all end…
My general has come in, I nearly shot him.
“Sir! The revolt has been put down! You’ve won!”
“Huh? Oh. Very good. Execute all the prisoners and update me on the situation tomorrow.”
As the general leaves, I feel something different. I can let my guard down. At last I can sleep.
I realized long ago that the deaths of thousands are nothing compared to the piece of mind of safety.
And now I have it at last
So seeing as the last two submission weren’t as great, I decided to actually put some effort into this one. The topic was super heroes.
I decided to go a different route and make it a little ambiguous, but y’know nobody “got it” because I’m like a fucking genius and they couldn’t comprehend my creativity.
In any case, I liked this one.
Captured! Bound! Trapped in a cell in the fortress of my archenemy! I know Doctor Malevolent is behind this villainous plot! He’s tried to stop me before like he always has, but he’ll never succeed! He’ll never defeat Captain Courage defender of righteousness!
But first I must break free of this devious jacket of holding. Fortunately I have had practice in doing this before. It has taken weeks, but I think I’ve finally got it beat. The foolish Doctor is so arrogant to believe that only a few modifications to his dastardly inventions will hold me. He underestimates the tenacity of Captain Courage!
Still, his last insidious plot was a surprise to even me. Somehow he has managed to brainwash the entire city. Was it a mind ray? Mass hypnosis? Hallucinatory drugs in the water supply? It doesn’t matter; all I know is the good people of this city have turned on me. It saddens my soul. Part of me wants to lash out! But I must not, for I know it is not their fault that they have fallen victim to the machinations of the wicked Dr. M. My capture. The mock trial. All of the people involved were obviously under Dr. M’s influence! It is the only explanation, the people wouldn’t knowingly hand their noble champion over to Dr. M, not after I have done so much for the city. The people may have turned their backs on me, but I will never turn my back on them. After I escape I will find a way to release the people of the city from their mind control!
Ah ha! Free! Now all I have to do is wait. Wait for one of Dr. M’s goons to come back to take me to the interrogation room. Yes, they’ve tried to interrogate me many times. I’ve told them nothing though. Dr. M believes he can get me to talk by introducing a pretty face to me; a lovely young femme fatale in the guise of a “councilor”. I’m not fooled and I’m not falling for her wiles. The way she tries to tell me she’s trying to “help” me and touches my hand in a gentle way…
Wait! What’s that noise? Its one of Dr. M’s guards!
Hiding behind the door, I wait for him to enter, which he does. I strike! A left! A right! And finally a kick to his face! He’s down, and I make my first steps towards freedom! I wish I had my equipment with me, but for now my wits will have to be enough to help me escape. I quickly head door the corridor. Throughout the corridors are other doors with other prisoners. I hear their tortured screams behind them. I can’t imagine what torments Dr. M has subjected them to; indeed I don’t even want to know. I shake my head in dismay and frustration. Would that I could save them all now, but I simply do not have the time to do so, but when I return, better prepared, I will save them all, just like I will save the city! This I vow!
A general alarm has been raised and I hear Dr. M’s sinister voice alert his staff of my escape through the intercom. I fight my way through when I have to, and I hide when necessary. When I get near the entrance I see Dr. M’s elite guards dressed in their tradition blue uniforms. They pull out their weapons and fire! I narrowly avoid their blasts. I must find another way to escape as the front door has been thoroughly guarded, but where? Wait! The roof! I immediately find the nearest set of stairs and pursue my new route of escape!
Eventually I make it to the roof, with my enemies in hot pursuit. I look over the side of the roof; it’s far, but I think I can jump to the nearby tree.
Before I can do anything Dr. M and his elite arrive! One of them fires on me again, but misses. Dr. M scolds his henchmen for nearly killing me, but only because he hasn’t gotten the information he wants from me yet. He’s telling me to give up, but I will never give up my fight against him!
I look again at the nearby tree, I have to jump. I have to try. If I don’t, I’ll be captured again, and the city will be doomed. Someone has to save the city from evil!
I make my leap and I hear Dr. M shout in aggravation by my escape, I only hope I make it.
The tree seems so close.
I have to make it.
I MUST make it.
Someone has to save the city…
Could this be the end of Captain Courage?
The topic for this one was taking a vacation in a foreign land. At this point was sort of getting bored of competing in these contests, because as I said, I prefer to write at my own pace and generally do what the hell I want and not be confined by stupid fucking rules like “no swearing.”
Anyway, this is another one I liked. I think I came close to third place with it. Don’t remember though.
The Beautiful Land of Pargona
Yay! I’m all set to go to Pargona! I’ve always wanted to go there and now I’m finally getting the chance to! There’s nothing there but majestic landscape, beaches and very friendly beautiful women to fawn all over you! I’m so looking forward to this trip, that I want to keep a record of what is going to be surely the best trip of my life!
I better get going; I don’t want to miss the plane!
I’m here in Pargona, but I’m currently in the cab on the way to my hotel. I thought my hotel was a lot closer though. The cab driver insists that he’s going the right way and I guess he’d know, he does live here after all! For now I’m just enjoying the sights, though I must admit I wasn’t expecting to see so many street beggars and dirty shanty towns. Still it’s all very exciting!
That’s weird; we seem to be pulling into an alley.
I’m at my hotel. I’m glad to be here too, I need the rest after escaping from those kidnappers! I sure was lucky that those drug dealers that they owed money to came by when they did and I managed to hide in the dumpster during the shoot out. Live and learn, I guess! I am pretty hungry though, I haven’t eaten for a few days. I think I’ll order the Pargona pork roast. It’s supposed to be very good.
First I better take a long bath though.
While it certainly tastes good, I fear that Pargona pork roast doesn’t seem to agree with me. I’ve only just now felt well enough to write again. Bad things have been coming out of me at both ends, but I’m not going to let this wreck my fun! Tomorrow, they are having tours of the ancient Xoltec ruins!
I’ve always been interested in that ancient culture, so hopefully I’ll be well enough to go.
I just got back from the local hospital. During the tour I got separated from the rest of the group when I couldn’t help but inspect the Xoltec statue closer. I KNEW that its belt buckle looked like a button! I probably shouldn’t have pressed it though. The slide wasn’t so bad, but the spikes at the bottom hurt very badly. I also stirred up a nest of scorpions that had made their home down there too. It took awhile before their paralyzing poison wore off.
On the bright side the tour guide said I was probably the first outsider in centuries that had actually been inside a Xoltec sacrificial pit, let alone survive it! Wow, what an adventure! I’m off to the beach next!
Look out ladies, here comes the great explorer!
The beach wasn’t what I expected. I nearly stepped on several syringes and was bitten by a hostile turtle that I mistook for a rock when I went to sit on it. There didn’t seem to be any babes around, though there was a friendly derelict lying in his own filth that pointed me in the direction of a place where there were lots of women, but he said I’d need some money to get anywhere with them. I was on my way there, but then a group of youths hanging by the pier beat me up and stole my money.
Oh well, I guess not every day can be a good one! Right now I hear a lot of noise outside, I’m going to see what it is, maybe it’s a festival!
Looks like I might be here longer in Pargona than I expected! There seems to be some sort of revolt going on. The self proclaimed People's Democratic Army of Pargona have taken control of parts of the city, but the government is busily trying to put down the rebels. I’d try to make it to my embassy, but unfortunately it was blown up three days ago. The airports are being blocked as well. I’m pretty safe where I’m at actually. The hotel manager’s brother is the President so the protection here is excellent apart from the occasional mortar hitting the building.
I’m getting some GREAT pictures of troop movements and tanks rolling down the streets though! I can’t wait to show these to everyone back home!
The revolution is over and I’m going home! I enjoyed my time here, but it seemed to go by too quick! I’m also disappointed that the Pargona government confiscated my camera before I could get on the plane. However, they told me it was for security reasons, so I certainly understood.
I might not have any pictures; I’ll always have my memories of the beautiful land of Pargona!
And here’s the last one and probably the best one I could have went out on. By this time I hadn’t even been participating in these stupid contests and months had passed since I even logged in the site.
DEP once again told me that THIS contest would be something I’d definitely be into since they were relaxing the rules on content a bit. It was a Halloween contest and it was all about disposing of a dead body.
Well gee, I guess I can do that…
Hungry for Love
Another dead body.
It isn’t the first and certainly won’t be the last.
This one is different though. Never killed anyone I loved before. Of course she’s the only person I’ve ever had any feelings towards. Dumping her body in the woods or something similar just isn’t an option. She was special.
I’ve never done this before, but I’m prepared to try something new for her.
I’m sorry that I have to dismember her, but she simply isn’t going to fit in the freezer whole. Still, I better clear out the rest of the freezer, this may take awhile.
Glad I didn’t do any grocery shopping this week.
She had such lovely legs. She was absolutely mesmerizing whenever she wore a short dress to show them off. I’ll miss how they used to wrap around me.
As I take the first bite, I look into her eyes. I need to know if she’s okay with this before I go any further. She stares at me from across the table in the bucket of ice and doesn’t protest.
She always was accommodating even when we were kids. Gave me her extra candy, helped me with some of my school work. I knew even back then we were meant to be together. I think she knew it too; it just took her awhile to come around.
Hmm, don’t know why people make the joke about humans tasting like chicken. It doesn’t taste that way to me at all.
I remember how they used to embrace me. Be it in the throes of passion or a simple hug. It doesn’t matter which, I’ll miss it all.
As I pop a couple her fingers in my mouth, I think back to when we were teenagers and her father caught us in her room. He smacked me around pretty good before I could get out of there. Said how I better leave his daughter alone and all that other crap over protective fathers say. We were in love, and that fool couldn’t see it.
Never got to see her too much shortly after that time. She got sent off to a private school and contact was limited. Even when I tried, her father was always taking steps to make sure I wasn’t going to sneak up there. He even warned the school if I was on the grounds that they could have me arrested.
Mmm, that’s good.
I guess it didn’t matter though; I got into trouble with the law anyway. My mom tried to put me into therapy, but all I did was stab the therapist in the hand with his pen.
Without her I felt so lost, is it any wonder that I wanted everyone to feel the same amount of pain I did?
My beloved definitely tastes a lot better than that crap they were serving me in juvie that’s for sure. My beloved is so delicious. I didn’t think it could be this good, but on second thought, could she be anything else?
I can’t wait for the next part.
I’ll miss how it felt against my own body. So warm in life, and now so cold in death, but not for long. I’ve got a lot of cooking to do for this bit. Always had a knack for cooking, for some reason.
If only things turned out differently, perhaps I could’ve run my own restaurant with her.
Mmm, need more salt for this.
By the time we had grown up, our lives had become vastly different. I lived a hand to mouth existence, while she was in college. I thought about visiting her many times, but at that point, I didn’t think she’d feel the same way about me. I was a completely different person now.
Imagine my surprise when she came to visit me. It was like we picked up where we left off.
Ahh, perfect. This soup is excellent. This meatloaf too. I think I’ll be able to eat most of this tonight. I usually don’t eat a lot, but the more I eat, the more I feel closer to her.
I look at her head as I have been for this past month while devouring her. I caress her face. For some reason I can’t bring myself to eat her lovely face. It’s the first thing I fell in love with and I guess it’s the last thing I want to remember about her.
We’re coming to the end. Nobody is ever at this polluted lake this time of night. Nobody even swims here anymore.
I tried to keep it from her as long as possible. Sneaking around, canceling dates…she was bound to get suspicious.
Like I said, we were two different people now, even if we still had the love, but I guess there were some things she just couldn’t accept though. I tried to explain, but it only ended in blood like it always does. Just like it did with several other women that were poor imitations of her. Just like it did with her father who kept us apart for so long and caused this to happen.
I look into her eyes one last time and I know she forgives me.
I give her one last kiss.
“I love you. I always will my dear sweet sister.”
I toss her bones and head overboard and weep.
Pretty obvious what I channeling there right?
Now surprisingly this one got quite a bit of praise, however one of the judges went on tirade about the content and rated the story low, so I was like in second place and then I dropped to 13th due to the weight of the ratings. Lol.
Obviously I answered the judge back pointing out that I completely obeyed the rules of the contest, but I guess he didn’t want to argue with me. Fuck it.
After that I was done with the site since I hated contests, the judges were prudes, and I was out of “internet money” (Basically like points here, but a lot harder to get) to pay to join them in the first place and I certainly wasn’t going to pay real money to do it.
Anyway, it’s all a rich tapestry.
I actually did mean to do it at some point, but yeah annoying Steve was the perfect motivation. Lol.
These have been fun to read through so far :)
Delightful, I feel like a kid who just found a dozen fresh donuts from the world's most insidious baker lying around still in their container (Fun fact the donuts themselves are fine even though they're mostly filled with spice in place of sugar, it's the craving for more afterwards that really kills ya)
My favorite line -
Goose took a puff of her cigarette.
“This ain’t no fairy tale.
Also, I've got to give some credit to the judge on the last one. I'm a fan of your work, but even for me that last one required a bit of brain bleach afterwards (heck I'd suggest putting spoilers on it so kids don't accidentally read that one).
The topic was “get rid of a body” I figured everyone else was going to go the traditional route of digging a hole, dumping it in the water, chopping it up and wrapping it in garbage bags etc. So I went with something that I knew nobody there was going to do and I was right.
Really it’s pretty tame compared to what the kids are watching on the wacky internet nowadays. Almost charmingly quaint, in fact!
In any case, you probably should avoid Love SICK.
As I said, I've been through all your work, and I'm fine with it. Even with that experience, the detailing on this one still stood out. Love SICK never went into an inner monologue elaborating the thoughts of the surgeon, he was an absurd character through and through.
If I remember correctly, this is the guy from Repression who also was knife happy in Suzy's saga
Nah, none of the short stories are connected to any of the CYOAs. Just a few of them drew some inspiration to some small degree. Love SICK was being channeled for the last short story rather than Repression, though I suppose the tone felt more like Repression's since it was less comical in nature.
In fact I just used the same "Love Sick" title during the contest, but I ended up changing it later since it's not actually connected and to keep them separated.
Oh wait, you were getting the protagonists from Love SICK and Repression mixed up.
No, those are two different characters. The guy from Repression is Johnny. The guy from Love SICK is Leslie. You can run into both of them in different paths in Suzy’s Strange Saga though.
Yep, looks like I got them mixed up. In Suzy's Saga, Johnny was stalking the house if I'm not wrong, but I don't remember meeting Leslie (and I went through all the routes for Suzy). Also, why's the SICK capitalized?
That's just the way I did it. I think originally I had "repression" without a capitalized "R", but I changed it for some reason.
You actually speak more with Leslie's sister Lilith in SSS than you speak with him. You really only briefly meet him if you go through the successful path on that branch.
Now, you can meet him on multiple other occasions as well, but those are usually less fortunate encounters for poor Suzy.
Ah yes, the pieces click together again. I do enjoy how a lot of your throwaway endings have merit enough to have been passable endings in a lesser work, notably in Eternal
Good and nice detailed short stories.
Not really a fangirl as far as I know, just some noob that made positive post.
You come home after a hard day of work at the porno shop.
You decide to unwind by watching a stupid movie starring some unfunny comedian and masturbating with your alien vibrator because working a porno shop for twenty years has completely fucked up your senses of what you find erotic.
Curse your parents for making you get a job at the age of six.
Just as you’re about to get started, you suddenly hear footsteps in the room above you and a door slam.
You think, “Shit, I didn’t realize anyone else was here!” and quickly pull up your panties and stretchy pants.
Then you also realize “Shit, nobody else lives here because I’m lonely and can’t hold down a proper relationship, so who the fuck is upstairs?”
You put your vibrator down and grab the gun underneath your couch pillow, you also make a mental note that you need to start keeping these two things in vastly different locations since you nearly had an unfortunate accident when you were fumbling around in the dark a couple days ago.
You cautiously head upstairs fondling your hard piece of American made weapon of personal destruction.
Actually you think you’re wetter now than before when you were about to send yourself to happy land with your vibrator. Perhaps the anticipation of killing something has stirred something within you, or maybe you’ve just pissed yourself a little.
Either way, you’re pretty excited.
Remembering all those shows you’ve watched on TV, you kick open the door and see the figure of a girl holding an axe causing you to fire a shot at her.
Screams follow and you quickly step inside the room and turn on the light to get a better look everything.
The light reveals that your shot completely missed your target, which is just as well since the girl with the axe now whimpering in the corner is your creepy cousin Mary.
“Suzy! What the fuck man! Why’d you do that?! You nearly shot me!” she cries.
“Me? What the hell are you even doing in my house? I told you not to be creeping up in here like some fucking cat burglar again! That’s how motherfuckers get shot!”
“Mom kicked me out again.” Mary says followed by a lot of coughing.
“Not surprised. Probably caught you and your brother fucking each other again. Speaking of which, where the hell is he? Because if you’re here, I know damn well his annoying ass is here too…and stop fucking coughing so much, that’s really annoying.”
“You’re tellin’ me. I just got a touch of flu or something.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake…you’re telling’ me you’re sick?”
Before Mary can answer, you suddenly sense someone coming up behind you. You already know who it is and he’s just as creepy as his sister.
He whispers in your ear and you can feel his breath when he says. “We all have it in here. We are all infected.”
Then you elbow him in the stomach and start pistol whipping Martin.
“Get the fuck away from me then! I don’t wanna catch a cold! Unlike some people I have to work for a fucking living!” you exclaim.
“Ow! Fuck! Stop! Okay!” Martin exclaims and goes over to Mary to avoid anymore of your abuse.
“And why the hell were you carrying an axe when I walked in?” you ask.
“Oh, well me and Martin were playing this game where…” Mary starts to say before you interrupt.
“Y’know what? Never fucking mind. I don’t even want to know what sort of twisted sex games you two were doing.”
“So hey Suzy, is it okay if we stay here for the weekend? Mom should be cooled down by then.” Martin asks.
“You two fucking degenerate plague carriers come barging into my home and you have the balls to ask me if you can continue to stay? If your mom wasn’t one of the few relatives in this fucked up family that I didn’t mind, I’d throw the pair of you out on your asses right now. (Sigh) Yeah you can stay, but try to stay confined to this room. I don’t want germs all over the place.”
Mary and Martin both smile and thank you. You shake your head and start to leave.
“Hey Suzy, did you want to join us?” Mary asks.
“Fuck no, I don’t want to join you. You’re both sick and I told you I have to work. Maybe next time when you both don’t have super ebola or whatever the hell you got.” you exclaim and shut the door.
You head back downstairs to resume what you were going to do, but now you find you’re out of the mood. You turn off the movie and throw your vibrator aside.
As you're pondering how your life sucks a lot, you start to hear Martin and Mary really go at it. You sort of wish they weren’t sick otherwise you would have joined in, just as something to do.
Still, all sounds of ecstasy is starting to put you in the mood again and that’s when you get the cunning plan.
You unload your gun completely and make sure there isn’t one in the chamber. You then look at it longingly.
“I know last time was an accident, but this time isn’t going to be baby.” you say.
You then lick the barrel before “holstering” the gun repeatedly.
Kinda reminds me of that bit in The Stand where the dude gets fucked in the ass by the truck driver. I like it
Instead of going through your new routine of masturbating with your unloaded pistol, you decide to try to engage in your other hobby, which is writing shitty lesbian erotica.
Not because you’re a lesbian mind you, but for some reason it sort of calls to you as a purer form of love, since every time you write about a girl and dude together, it always turns into the girl marrying her rapist. And while that gets you off, you probably should try to avoid seeing the act of rape as something to get turn on by.
In any case, your progress goes about as well as it always does. Namely you write one sentence and then get fucking distracted by the Internet, especially when you start interacting with “people.”
Maiden4Ever: I think I should just scrap this.
YuriLover: No Suzy! You do that with everything! Just keep writing. It’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.
Maiden4Ever: But it’s complete fucking shit. This isn’t true love. Or at least not the true love I’m going for. This is just lesbian pirates fucking each other with their peg legs.
YuriLover: What’s wrong with that?
Maiden4Ever: Because I’m trying to write something meaningful, not something that’s just going to be pleasure material.
YuriLover: But isn’t that sort of the point?
Maiden4Ever: Maybe, but I still want depth! I mean sure it’s all consensual and it’s not rapey, but there’s no real love here. None of these characters are happy. Not really. How the fuck could they be? They’re stuck at sea barely fighting off scurvy and the Royal Navy. All they’re doing is fucking to take their mind off things.
YuriLover: Maybe the problem is you don’t have enough sex scenes.
Maiden4Ever: I know what the problem is. I’m too fucking cynical and not a happy person. How the hell can I write about someone finding true love and living happily ever after when I’ve never known it myself?
YuriLover: Sounds like you need to make yourself happier. Hey you know that one guy that used to come in here and talk about his furry artwork?
Maiden4Ever: Ugh. Don’t remind me. You talking about Vincent Vango right?
YuriLover: Yeah, well I was having a private chat with him once and he said he used to drink yellow paint to invite happiness inside him.
Maiden4Ever: And he’s a fucking retard. I’m not drinking paint to make myself happy. In fact that would rank up there with dating outside my race as far as my list of things that wouldn’t make me happy.
YuriLover: Wait, what?
Maiden4Ever: Hold on, somebody is at the door, I’ll talk to you later Julie.
You get dressed and go to the door, wondering who the hell it is. Though if it’s fucking Mormons again, you’re not sure if you aren’t going to shoot one of them or not.
You check the peephole and see someone just as unwelcome. It’s your creepy cousin Mary. To be honest, you aren’t sure if you aren’t going to shoot her. She’s holding something in her hand. Looks like a canvas.
Reluctantly you open the door just so she’ll stop knocking.
“Mary, what the hell are you doing, banging on the door like you’re police?” you demand.
“But Suzy, you told me not to sneak in like a cat burglar anymore, so I’m knocking your door.” Mary responds.
“…well ask a stupid question…anyway… I hope you aren’t here to ask if you and your brother can live with me again. I’m still pissed I caught a fucking cold from you assholes and while I know you wouldn’t know it, it’s not fucking fun having to work while you’re sick.”
“I’m really sorry about that. I know you said no kissing, but I just couldn’t help myself, I felt just so loved being between you and Martin and…”
“Alright! Alright! Let’s not talk about it. Look, what do you want?”
“Oh! Here. Martin said you like money so he thought in gratitude for letting us stay here, he said I should give you this.”
Mary hands you a couple hundred dollars. You’re a little surprised.
“Hm, well I suppose this doesn’t make up for ALL the shit I’ve put up with from you two, but it isn’t unwelcome.” You say.
“Thanks, hey um, could use your bathroom? I drank a big gulp and I really gotta pee!” Mary says.
“What? Fine. Come in, you know where it is.”
Mary comes in and puts her canvas against a nearby chair and makes haste to the bathroom.
While Mary’s taking a piss, you take the opportunity to see what’s on this canvas.
You look at it and it’s a picture of Mary. It’s a pretty good likeness actually. Got the hair right and everything.
Soon Mary comes back out of the bathroom.
“Oh good, you’re looking at your other gift! Isn’t it great? It’s a self portrait!” Mary shouts excitedly.
“YOU painted this? Didn’t know you painted Mary.” You say.
“Yeah, but I usually don’t have the focus to finish anything.”
“Hmm, I know the feeling…wait. Did you say this was a gift?”
“Well yeah, you can hang this up and always be reminded of me, your favorite cousin!”
“Just because we’ve known each other biblically doesn’t exactly make you my favorite…but I guess you’re trying. Which is more than I can say for most in the family. Anyway getting back to something you said earlier. You said you don’t usually have the focus to finish painting anything. What did you do to get focused?”
“Oh that. It was something Martin came up with and it worked really well!”
“Martin came up with something that worked? I find that hard to believe, but I’m willing to try anything at this point.”
“Oh it definitely works, it’s a little unorthodox. I didn’t know you painted too.”
“Nah, I write sometimes and I find it difficult to finish anything. So what’s this thing that Martin said that got you to focus?”
“Well it wasn’t something he said, so much as it was something he did.”
“Gonna stop you right there, Mary. Martin is NOT fucking me in the ass.”
“No! It’s nothing like that! Geez! It’s um, well it probably would be better if he just showed you.”
“(Sigh) Fine, tell him to come over and…wait…he’s already here isn’t he?”
You suddenly feel a heavy blow to the back of the head and everything goes black.
In a couple hours you eventually wake up in your den where you do all your writing. The back of your head is sore, but at least that’s ALL that’s sore and nobody did anything unseemly to you while you were unconscious.
You notice that almost everything in the room has been removed save for the computer and Mary’s picture is hanging up on the left wall. You also notice that the door is closed and the single window in the room has been boarded up. You try the door and it’s barred from the outside of course.
This asshole just basically locked you in a room with no food, no water and boarded up your fucking window.
You’d be a little more concerned, if the idiot hadn’t also left the hammer near the said boarded up window, which means you could easily claw out the nails and they aren’t even solidly driven in all way into the wood anyway.
You inspect the computer and see a note has been written to you on it.
Sorry about springing all this on you so suddenly, but this is the way Martin did it for me, though without the whole hitting part. I think he wanted to get back at you for pistol-whipping him that one time.
Anyway, we’ll be back in a few days to check in on you, we made copies of your keys so we can come and go now without having to sneak in or disturb you by knocking.
I think you’ll find without the distractions, you’ll get much more accomplished! Good luck with your writing!
P.S. I hung the picture of me in the room to give you inspiration!
You make a mental note of two things you need to do after you pry the boards from the window and that’s one; change the locks on your house. And two, you are SO kicking Martin’s ass the next time you see him.
You sit at the computer and delete the note before instinctively trying to access the Internet. You don’t get anything though; apparently Martin knew enough to disconnect you from your major source of distraction.
“Meh, might as well try it, I can kick his ass later.” You say to yourself.
You begin to write.