[Writing Contest] - THE ARENA

slavetothegrind

upping the spice intake overnight i reckon!

Ben Moore

Hi I'm fairly new here and just saw this topic, I read the first two and last two entries so I'm not sure how it works.

Do we vote just by replying to the thread?

Looking forward to Blue Eyes.

Carter P Fly

Sometimes when I’m in a deep melancholy I try to remember more about her and I sink deeper into the abyss that is my own self loathing. I swim down, down deep and try to grasp at the memories, to pull them to the surface but I cannot breathe and have to return to the surface empty handed.

I think I used to be able to remember absolutely everything about her but more often than not a memory I thought was of her I realise is my mind playing tricks on me when I see those same images in magazines, billboards or on TV. I pull at my hair and beat my face and curse the trickery and deceit of the media for painting pictures of grace and beauty that burn deep into the mind’s eye.

The only thing I clearly remember about her is her eyes. I see them in perfect clarity and minute detail every single time I try to sleep. Sometimes when I look at myself in the mirror it’s her eyes that stare back at me in the reflection. I splash water on myself and sometimes the image goes away, but only sometimes. I walk around with my head tucked down low for fear I’ll see her eyes on a strangers face.

When the car went off the road she hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt as she had been applying her make-up in the vanity mirror on the sun visor. Her body was thrown around the car like a raggedy doll and when we finally came to stop upside-down in a field her face was inches from mine. She was dead, battered and contorted horrifically. I was trapped, alive and bound by the twisted fabric and metal that was crushed in around me. With my arms broken, trapped and useless I couldn’t turn her face which lay mere inches from mine, her eyes wide open staring right at me. I hung there for God knows how long staring into her unblinking pale blue eyes until the paramedics cut us free.

slavetothegrind

Ben Moore wrote: »

Hi I'm fairly new here and just saw this topic, I read the first two and last two entries so I'm not sure how it works.

Do we vote just by replying to the thread?

Looking forward to Blue Eyes.

you vote by thanking the story you like best and you can optionally, and preferably, reply with your views on the stories , opinions welcome good and bad!

then you bravely put yourself forward for the next round ( optional):p

slavetothegrind

I hated everything and everyone. I did it with a sense of righteousness and it gave me a place in this world.
I felt I had distributed my hate with an even hand, neither favouring one race over another nor one place over another.I thought that deserved respect. If you didn’t well hell I would show you the error of your ways because, mother****er, I hate you too!

I came from a regular home with regular folks and had a regular old life until the first time I got mad.
Nothing was the same after that. I had found my strength, and it was mighty and all consuming. The boy should have read the signs, but no he kept on. At first I was flailing wildly to get his big fat sweaty stinking frame off me but a focus came on me, a clarity of violence, a singular thought and I brought a world of pain into that boys life. When they pulled me off him some puked, there was screaming and there was elation.
I loved the sweet smell of success, blood and faeces mixed was a heady aroma indeed with the wonderful soundtrack of outrage to accompany it.

My first stint in lockup was ok. Got a little respect, but not much. Heresay and rumour don’t do it inside it’s what you show them that counts. I showed them. In style.
Much respect followed when I got back to genpop. Sure solitary is hard but it gives you time to think, and ,you know, plan stuff. My new buddy was helping me. He had good ideas. He was a trustee, he came to my cell slot every day same time. Slid open the slot and peered in at me with those piercing big blue eyes of his. He was no doper either, pupils like ****ing millstones he had! But he and I shared a vision.

I got out after a while and reintegrated into society and reasserted myself to lead the life I was made for. I had a trade now and I gathered my tools and went to work. It began to feel almost religious in nature. I moved around a lot but I had still much to learn and I got caught. Back to the big house for me! Some fool in a white jacket said I was deluded and put me in with the crazies. It was harder to earn their respect, they were not in their right minds. Still after the third attempt even they got it! Solitary again, for longer this time.

My old friend blue eyes was back soon enough doing his rounds, heard his mop slapping the floor with that familiar pattern as he approached. Was I glad to see those eyes again! A brother in a world of others! We caught up like old buddies and I couldn’t believe I could share with someone else like this, someone who understood, who was the same.
We hatched a plan for my escape once out of solitary, he set up my route and left me a key so I could get out. It went perfectly, with the added bonus of some payback on the way.

I was more careful now, and I had been a good pupil in solitary, i learned real fast on the job. I loved my work, my vocation. I was famous, on the news every night and the papers were full of praise for my work, well that’s how it read to me! I loved the attention and upped my game to see just how much of it I could get. I adopted a catchphrase and left it after me where I went. Media loved it! I loved it! Cops loved it too because it was my downfall. This time they were really upset. Judge said I was to die, and soon.
That was ok, I know death and I do not fear it.

Death row was another solitary cell, and there it was that familiar sound!
He came to my cell and looked at me with bloodshot blue eyes.
“you ok brother?” I asked him.
“me? I’m the finest. Couldn’t be more proud of you brother. You have excelled in your ministry and for that you will be rewarded”
I felt strange, sick, I shook slightly and it was alarmingly uncomfortable. He moved away from the door leaving the slot open this time.
I saw my brother for the first time, my only family, as he strode down the corridor.
My stomach cramped up and my bowels loosened as the familiar slapping sound took up it’s rhythm. It was not a mop.

There is only one thing in this world more powerful than hate and it is fear.
You might say love, but I have never known it. Closest I came was a blue eyed trustee.
I hate him now too, almost as much as I fear him.

Now I fear death, and death is coming, I can smell it.
But most of all I fear what I have never known, what I have seen in his eyes, that which lies beyond death.

Mr E

sttg's story was clever... a real 'a-ha!' moment at the end.

I really liked Carter's story up until the last paragraph. It was really sweet up to that point, but the last paragraph was a bit jarring.... the reason for the lost love should have been just hinted at, and the rest should have been left up to the imagination of the reader (IMO, etc.)

me-skywalker

Well done Carter for submitting your piece. As constructive crit, I unfortunatly had zero connection with this piece. I felt there was no emotional connection with the protagonist and the story had no depth. For me the character didn't portray any feeling other than token gestures. With a bit more time and a re-read you could improve on it as it seems you just hit the send button once you got to the end.


Slave, well done. Enjoyable piece, good yearn to the piece and rolled along at a good pace. As above didn't feel any connection with the character rather I kept reading to find out the why's or what next, which never really came but still a good concise piece.

Carter P Fly

me-skywalker wrote: »

Well done Carter for submitting your piece. As constructive crit, I unfortunatly had zero connection with this piece. I felt there was no emotional connection with the protagonist and the story had no depth. For me the character didn't portray any feeling other than token gestures. With a bit more time and a re-read you could improve on it as it seems you just hit the send button once you got to the end.


Slave, well done. Enjoyable piece, good yearn to the piece and rolled along at a good pace. As above didn't feel any connection with the character rather I kept reading to find out the why's or what next, which never really came but still a good concise piece.

I agree with that, the piece was much longer but I hacked it down to circe 300 words ( I think 340 ). I also didnt like some of my sentance structure as they ran on a bit.

Theres always next time:)

Well done Slave!!!

pickarooney

STTG's story is well over the limit and Carter's well under. I think a misunderstanding of the ever-evolving rules may have scuppered this round a bit.

Carter P Fly

pickarooney wrote: »

STTG's story is well over the limit and Carter's well under. I think a misunderstanding of the ever-evolving rules may have scuppered this round a bit.

what is the guide limit? the OP says 300. In the prev one the same trend was there, slaves was way shorter then skywalkers.

pickarooney

Apologies. I've updated the OP with the change which came into effect sometime after post 50 on the thread.

alchemist33

Possibly too late but I voted for sttg. I preferred the structure of the story and the writing and characterisation felt that little bit better.

But good job, both of you.

slavetothegrind

firstly thanks for the comments all!

secondly i would like to apologise, i got carried away when finishing it and didn't even think of wordcount so i am obviously disqualified that round.
it would be unfair any other way as i went way over and Carter said he cut his to be under 300, probably not helping him at all.

So i suggest carter go forward and i look forward to challenging again after a few others have had a go.

Thanks very much people for reading and commenting, it has been a revelation to me that i can string a story together and encourages me to try more, which i will. Boards sometimes excels itself and this forum is a prime example.:)

Carter P Fly

That be crazy talk, You won hands down!!!!

How about A re-challange? you pick title

slavetothegrind

fightin' talk Carter!!!:p I'm your huckleberry!

Better let mr Pickarooney call it as he could have us fed to the lions with a simple thumbs down.:(

pickarooney

I think a rematch is a good idea especially as there's nobody waiting to challenge that I can see. I keep missing the voting deadlines on these.

slavetothegrind

ok so, title wise i do not know......

oh wait, in respectful reference to a retired (for now) champion of the arena i propose the title "the box" .

Carter P Fly

Ive been buggered with an epic flu today and haven't written anything. My submission may be a little late. sincere apologies.

Antilles

slavetothegrind wrote: »

ok so, title wise i do not know......

oh wait, in respectful reference to a retired (for now) champion of the arena i propose the title "the box" .

I'm not retired, I'm building suspense. It's called showmanship?

slavetothegrind

carter you get yourself well, we'll all be here when you are ready, i haven't done anything yet myself so no bother moving the deadline.;)


We may have to move to the secondary stage as i think antilles is building towards a champions finale of some sort with bluewolf!:p

slavetothegrind

The door burst open and a great big shiny figure filled the frame.
The patrons of the dingy tavern made themselves as small as possible and retreated further into the shadows of the darkened room.
“Antilles! The guard captain!” was whispered amongst the feral patrons whilst the barkeep gave a nervous nod towards the small group of hooded figures at the rear table.

Antilles strode forward with a wrinkled nose at the foul stench and a glare at the barkeep.
Behind him were two more of his guard and a small covered figure.
“you there!” he boomed at the now fearful table indicated. “ Give me what you have taken!”

The snoods nervously exchanged glances and babbled under their breath but were not forthcoming.
Antilles drew his broadsword, the metal on metal screech of it’s arrival enough to clear the remaining patrons out the back.
“ Defy me and I’ll disembowel your filthy hides!” roared an impatient antillies.
“we know not of what you speak, we are simple religious on pilgrimage”
As the Snood spoke the open lesions on its face glowed in the dim light and the ever bold Antilles took a step back
“Plague ridden scum you have a choice, die quickly or not so quickly!”

The small figure emerged from behind the guard and stood facing the Snood.
“ I will have it back now” a clear, sensual, demandingly urgent voice resonated in the Snood skull. The reverberations of it’s aftermath started to grow in intensity and pitch to an agonising crescendo of pain, intolerable pain.
The snood screamed and threw a small box at the figure before it.
Antilles, impressed with the reaction to his menaces, stooped to gather the box but the robed figure was quick, lightning quick.

They made for the door and left. Antilles thought about his pay and about the potential value of the object retrieved. It would be easy to dispose of this creature and be paid twice. The grin on his face turned to grimace as he heard her haunting voice in his head
“you have been well paid Antilles, greed will be your undoing”
He quickly removed all thoughts of malice from his mind realising he had underestimated the prowess of this one.
There was a reason the Bluewolfe were banned from the city he thought, before he moved his thoughts to the drink and whores he had planned this profitable eve.

pickarooney

Fanfic just went meta...

coffee_cake

giggle

Antilles

I'm not sure how I feel about this :eek:

slavetothegrind

ah antilles don't overthink it:D i was just checking in and bored so i let rip.
Many years of rpg'ing influenced my scribble.
Please believe i just made up characters based on your names and how they struck me.

Please don't take offense, none was intended at all!:)

alchemist33

Unless Carter's ready to come back, and if slave doesn't object, I'd like to throw my hat into the ring (I want it back, though. It's getting cold).

On the theme of The Box, battle to commence for 24 hours after slave's acceptance? In case you're concerned about my lack of history here, I do the odd bit of challenge-writing on another site.

me-skywalker

Knock Knock

The Mad Hatter

me-skywalker wrote: »

Knock Knock

Who's there?

me-skywalker

The Mad Hatter wrote: »

Who's there?

Lettuce

Toasterspark

¬¬

...Lettuce who?