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Author Topic: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST  (Read 2114 times)

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Kazz

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GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« on: August 21, 2009, 09:39:12 AM »

Hi, I am General Fiction.  Welcome to my army.

You must write a story.  Any length, any theme.

Music, images, video, or whatever else you can think of to enhance your narrative is welcome.

Automatic bonus +1 point if someone's head pops like a balloon at some point in the story.  That means you can score an 11 if your story is also perfect!

Starts right now, ends 8 AM ET on the 30th.
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Doom

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #1 on: August 21, 2009, 09:45:13 AM »

This is the Official Writing Contest 4 and is fully Doom-approved.
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Friend

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #2 on: August 21, 2009, 11:53:11 AM »

Here's an old story that I thought had some merit. It gets rushed in the ending but I tend to do that with all my writing.

     I walk through the door knowing that this time, my plan will succeed.
“Nothing is impossible, it’s all in my mind,” I think to myself. “I can do this.”
The door is an unreal shade of mauve with globs of goldenrod splattered the frame, as if the painter thought it didn’t look gaudy enough and decided to lend a hand. It looks as if a color blind person had accidentally tripped and thrown a random can of paint onto the door, resulting in the mess in front of me. But I’ve seen the door enough times to understand that my business lies behind the door, not on it. The room is a stark white with a minimalist design. She stands there, mesmerized in this canvas of a house that she has to work with. Of course, this trance will not last.
     “Beautiful, isn’t it? The house, I mean.” She whispers.
I can barely hear her. She is lost in visual splendor of this new world she has entered. I however, see a bland white interior, nothing that should be doted over the way she dotes over it..
“Yeah, whatever.” I don’t feel like humoring her. I would rather stick to the plan.
“Look, mom, about us going into the city to shop for new furniture,”
“Yes? What about it?”
“I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?” She is impatient. She obviously can’t understand why I don’t want her to go to the furniture shop. But then again, she doesn’t know that at approximately 12:00, as she is driving to the shop in her beat up Ford Prefect, a truck driver will, from lack of sleep, fall asleep at the wheel and collide with her car, killing her instantly. I must stop this at all costs.
     “Well, first of all, I’ve deflated all of your tires. It would be a safety hazard to drive with your wheels in that condition.”
“David, what on earth? Why would you do that?”
“Second, I’ve ripped out the steering wheel and replaced it with a plate.”
“Steering wheel? Plate? What is going on? I demand an explanation, buddy, or you’re gonna get it!” She is confused and angry, both due to me vandalizing her car. I don’t dare to explain to her how I just saved her life, so I make up some dumb reason about acting out to get attention. She buys it, and even though she chews me out, we spend the rest of the day in a pleasant mood.
     She gets to live to be an old lady who sees her son grow up and be a functioning adult in society, instead of dying and leaving her only son in custody of the US government, where he is sent to a foster home with other orphans like him. He does not have nightmares of the incident, nor does he cry to himself at night when everyone else thinks he is asleep. He does not hate himself for not saving her and he is not classified as mentally insane nor instituted into a mental asylum. He does not have make up scenarios where he saves her from her imminent demise. After all, none of this is impossible. It’s all in his mind.
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yyler

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #3 on: August 21, 2009, 09:37:17 PM »

like any good story, there is a single typo in it.
http://tyler.suckramento.org/file%20island/strangers%20in%20the%20night.pdf
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Beat Bandit

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #4 on: August 21, 2009, 10:11:43 PM »

He stepped heavy-legged into the bar and looked around. The old man wasn't as obvious as Mike made his out to be. A dense cloud of smoke made him blink a few times before he could move in anymore. He always appreciated that smoking had been outlawed from public places, but knew that despite it all the fact that they chose to ignore it here meant this was the kind of place he was looking for. A jukebox's blinking neon outline in the corner was the first thing to catch his eyes before they adjusted enough to see the two silently playing cards at a table, and past that the bar and its tender. He swallowed and walk up to it, not sure how to get the man's attention from the glass he was cleaning. As his throat started to clear itself, a completely uncontrollable response of his for situations where he was being ignored, the barman started to speak without the common courtesy to look over. "Yeah, and ya' want?" The sudden acknowledgement caught him off guard, and he paused for a moment, his first few words betraying him and coming out stuttered, ruining his hopes to appear as if he fit in here. "I- uh, well there's an old man I'm looking for that I heard spent a lot of time here. He has an eye patch an-" "Ha!" The bartender scoffed and the outburst gave him a small start, followed by frustration of being cut off. "What're ya', lookin' 'fer treasure then? Never mind it, I 'dun need freeloaders comin' through jus' ta' 'git a conversation. So I'll ask ya' again. What're ya' havin'?" The boy's hand clenched a bit, he didn't like being ordered, but knew it wasn't a time for him to try and fight things. "Just give me something stiff." The bartender started to laugh again in a low, gruff tone, "ya' figure this a joint 'fer queers? That'd be down the street." The clenched teeth facing him must have caught the barman's eyes, "I'm just jokin' with ya', I'll need some I.D. though, kid." The clenched teeth gaped and an uncontrolled jaw dropped. The kid wasn't good at hiding his emotion, and somewhere else that might have been his undoing. "Ya' know I'm still kiddin', right?" The man took a pint glass from under the bar and brought it up to a tap, watching it fill. "I know no one lookin' 'fer 'ol William wants no one else knowin' their name. He's in the back, ya' 'dun give 'em what he wants 'fer what 'yer askin' for, or 'dun pay me 'fore ya' leave and 'yer not walkin' outta' 'ere." He sets the glass, now full, down in front of the boy and motions to the back of the place with his head. "Tha' one wasn' a joke."
   The boy takes the drink and gives a small nod as he nervously shuffles himself towards the back. He looks around before seeing a separate section, well hidden by mirror placement along the wall. It wasn't a big room by any means and the table with the old man was easy to spot. The boy rushes a bit, seeing his goal so close, and the head of his beer splashes off onto his arm. Cursing a bit he has a temper in his voice, "old man, I heard you can help solve certain... problems, now is that true or did I go through this shit for nothing?" The old man didn't turn but a horrid laugh that only a wasted youth and corrupted spirit can muster echoed from his mouth. "Who're you now to talk to your elders that way? I've got a thing or two to teach you about respect before I help with whatever schoolboy issues you're having." The boy barely listened as he grumbled and helped himself to the open seat of the table, "I haven't got time for your tales, old man." A callus hand slaps the wood both the boy's and old man's glasses sat on. "You'll do good to learn a thing about respect!" The old man hissed and looked down to the boy's pint, mumbling, "damn Frank servin' to a kid like this. It ain't no 'tale' I'm telling you either. Now, this is a story..."
   All about how my life got flipped-turned upside down, and I liked to take a minute, just sit right there. I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air. In west Philadelphia born and raised, on the playground was where I spent most of my days. Chillin' out maxin' relaxin' all cool, and all shootin some b-ball outside of the school. When a couple of guys, who were up to no good, startin making trouble in my neighborhood. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared, she said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air'.
   I begged and pleaded with her day after day, but she packed my suite case and send me on my way. She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket. I put my walkman on and said, 'I might as well kick it'. First class, yo this is bad. Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass. Is this what the people of Bel-Air Living like? Hmmmmm this might be alright. But wait I hear they're prissy, wine, all that. Is Bel-Air the type of place they send this cool cat?
I don't think so, I'll see when I get there, I hope they're prepared for the prince of Bel-Air
   Well, the plane landed and when I came out, there was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out I ain't trying to get arrested, I just got here! I sprang with the quickness like lightening, disappeared. I whistled for a cab, and when it came near, the license plate said fresh and it had dice in the mirror. If anything I can say "this cab is rare", but I thought 'Nah forget it' - 'Yo homes to Bel Air'! I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8, and I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later'! I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there, to sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel Air.
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Norondor

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #5 on: August 21, 2009, 10:59:21 PM »

I skipped right to the end, fully expecting to be bel-aired. You didn't disappoint, Ryg.
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Frocto

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #6 on: August 21, 2009, 11:02:50 PM »

that's funny I did the same thing
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"And it is because they have fallen prey to a weakened, feminized version of Christianity that is only about softer virtues such as compassion and not in any part about the muscular Christian virtues of individual responsibility and accountability."

Frocto

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #7 on: August 27, 2009, 08:24:34 AM »

This is my character in an RPG I am playing. Enjoy!

The demon Kain is a tricky one. The mere image of his form burns into the eyes, soaking them with the unreality of the being on a level that tickles at the mind, prods it with realities that cannot directly be confronted, anchoring himself to established reality in the same way as a leech does to meat.

A bit of an old fuddy-duddy, he hails from the second Infernal Renaissance, a time when the world was another jewel in demon kind’s crown, a combined breeding ground and power source for the spacecraft of that age. Back then, he served as the Science Officer aboard the World Devourer class Demoncraft Kemru. See below for more about the Kemru.

Following the destruction of the vessel after an intergalactic war that the demons lost, the Kemru dropped off its precious cargo, which was miraculously unharmed, in the Milky Way Galaxy where it of course came to be known as the Earth. Many of the surviving demons jettisoned in special craft designed to burrow below the Earth, before putting them in a deep sleep. Many of them are still there, guarded by genetically engineered monsters to keep interlopers away. Over time, the planet’s overpopulation took care of itself and it got a new lease of life, as its own world.

A nice young girl named Nora was at the beach one day when she happened upon an old cave, where a weak looking man was sleeping. He saved her from the cave’s guardian, a gigantic snake and told her she was one a rare type of human the demons called “sows,” able to reproduce with demons. She swore eternal obedience in exchange for his generosity. This might have been a mistake!

Stature

When restored to power, Kain stands about 15 feet tall, a crustacean wall of interlocking scales that form the rough outline of a headless humanoid figure. Each of the thousands of scale is connected to a villi of the main body inside the shell, a spongy bag of soft flesh that the outer skin protects, allowing every scale to be moved individually, opening feeding and breeding orifices as necessary. This is a formidable foe in itself, but it won’t be conquering the world any time soon. To this end, Kain must seek out the few remaining Sows and use them to give birth to more of his unnatural demonspawn.

Sows

Being largely composed of psychic energy manifested as mashed-together slabs of meat, Demons have a hard time reproducing with other species, but any amount of applied magical energy, wielded with a surgeon’s touch, can configure any organ as necessary. A few choice human females from every generation, the cream of the crop, were taken aboard the Kemru every generation and reprogrammed to be able to function as breeding vessels for the demons. In intergalactic war, viruses engineered to eliminate a race’s breeding capacity were not unheard of, in which case the demons would do well to hide their breeding material, but this was more a measure in case they ever became an endangered species, as is the case now.

Nowadays, there are probably less than 50 of the Sows in the world, making them highly prized among demons who are awakening, their time-seals finally lifted. Finding themselves in a world where their own species, as well as their enemies’, are long gone, they have set temporary sights on dominating Earth and finding wreckage of the Kemru. Kain has also been using them to rebuild his damaged body.

When impregnated by Kain, the human women find their own flesh and blood used in the most nauseating of processes, their children totally alien and unrecognizable. About two feet long, the eel-like creatures have glossy, slick black skin, no eyes and row upon row of pencil-like teeth, and are often killed and eaten by Kain straight away. They become part of the inner body and allow him to place breeding chambers on his body.

The Whole Kit and Kaboodle

The bodies of the children become attached to him on a genetic level, growing as he grows, one of them typically emerging from the body to form a rudimentary head, which takes in minor sensory data in addition to the magical, sonar-like probes he typically uses to feel. The others become chambers along the body of the beast, scales sliding back to bare the fleshy innards of the “pods” where he typically keeps the Sows.

Preparing a Sow for integration is a lengthy process that can take a few hours, starting with her being swallowed by one of these organs and taken to the demon’s heart, where heart-tentacles enter her mouth and anus, systematically pumping chemicals into her organs until they atrophy, then carefully removing them, until her insides consist of purely the brain and the womb, both of which are significantly increased in size. Her life is sustained by the penetration to the womb by a member of the demon’s sperm filtration system, which anchors itself inside and continuously trickles the breeding fluids up to her ovaries as well as connecting her directly to the demon’s heart, pumping soul energy directly into her, every heartbeat of the demon a mind-splitting orgasm for the girl. Birth is given from a new orifice located below the belly and above the vagina.

The women control the flow of fluid into their bodies, based off of their arousal and feelings of subservience. Each girl can comfortably birth about 30 children for the demon a year, but some push it further than this, dropping closer to 300, a process they do not survive.

Okay, almost done! The last thing we need to touch on is the breeding chambers I mentioned earlier. Once the girl has been sealed inside of the organs and hooked up to the pump, scales on the outer shell can be slid back to allow her access to the outside world, as a visible growth on the side of the demon’s body. Typically, Kain does this with 4-10 girls at a time, letting them hang off his arms, belly and chest, using long-range blasters, healers and shield bearers, the girl’s fanatical loyalty making them a valuable combat asset. Nora, for example, is a tremendously able healer, the first priest of the Church of Kain and able to produce 150 babies for her master a year effortlessly, produce breast milk that restores to health those who drink it and resurrect her master if he is killed. For these reasons, she permanently occupies the spot at the centre of his chest just under his head.

If required, girls may also be removed from the central bulk, but they will not survive more than a few seconds without the demon’s shaft wedged firmly in their pussy. If away for an extended period, an “organ suit” may be worn under clothes, that feeds the girl and keeps her alive for upwards of a month.

The Kemru

The World Devourer Class of Demoncraft were space faring vessels that fulfil the role of what is commonly perceived as Hell, in human myth. Able to support a Colony of billions of demons, the essential theory of the vessels could be equated to a Dyson Web, but with a more sinister twist.

The most powerful energy source available to the demons who can read reality on an energy-based level is, of course, human souls, thus leading to the ship being constructed AROUND a planet, with extensive terraforming leading to the planet being able to support life, which is rapidly evolved to a state suitable for their purposes, a state at which the life is recognized to have a soul. At this point, the demons constructed the Kemru around the Earth and hosed the entire planet with a cocktail of drugs, pheromones and the like that caused intense breeding urges, increase of fertility in females, growth of genitals in males, etc. After a few hundred years of this, the planets typically end up standing room only, with a global, writhing mass of fucking flesh that consume their own dead and pop out fresh life as necessary. The souls of the dead are harvested by the ship and converted into thrust, sustenance, heating, whatever else is required by the demons.
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"And it is because they have fallen prey to a weakened, feminized version of Christianity that is only about softer virtues such as compassion and not in any part about the muscular Christian virtues of individual responsibility and accountability."

Fortinbras

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #8 on: August 27, 2009, 09:05:46 AM »

jesus fucking christ, frocto

stop that jumping, avatar.  we do not feel joy because of this.
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Guild

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #9 on: August 27, 2009, 03:50:19 PM »

Two guys walked into a bar. Just then, one of their heads popped like a balloon. Everyone kept drinking.
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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #10 on: August 29, 2009, 10:31:41 PM »

Q.Berting: 4/10
Sadly, this may win.
Rygaron: -1/10
::|:
yyler: 5/10
:nyoro~n:
Frocto -10/10
:ohgod:
Guild: 1/10
:scanners:
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Brentai

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #11 on: August 30, 2009, 11:19:41 AM »

This is the worst event to judge, seriously.

Q.Berting: 3
Would have been plain average if I didn't know so little about you that I didn't have to suspect it's something you wrote for your LiveJournal.
yyler: 7
Burgled by the Urban Yeti.  Hardcore.
Rygaron: 1
I tried to read around the whole Bel-Air thing but all I could do is stare at the overly long setup.
Frocto: 1
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Guild: 9
I gotta admit, after the rest of these, this entry is like taking a dip in clear, refreshing water.
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Frocto

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #12 on: August 30, 2009, 01:34:59 PM »

I take affront at being given a negative number.
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"And it is because they have fallen prey to a weakened, feminized version of Christianity that is only about softer virtues such as compassion and not in any part about the muscular Christian virtues of individual responsibility and accountability."

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #13 on: August 30, 2009, 01:41:03 PM »

If the negative scores aren't allowed, I'm giving them a 0.
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Friend

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #14 on: August 30, 2009, 03:17:35 PM »

I have been thoroughly shamed.
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Doom

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #15 on: August 31, 2009, 07:10:03 AM »

 :MENDOZAAAAA:
Q.Berting
3, 4
3.5



Rygaron
1, 0
.5



yyler
5, 7
6



Frocto
1, 0
.5



Guild
1, 9
5
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Doom

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Re: GENERAL FICTION CONTEST
« Reply #16 on: August 31, 2009, 07:12:49 AM »



yyler wins the Gold for The Third Nation!




Guild wins the Silver for What!



Q.Berting wins the Bronze for himself!
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