About Us

We are a group of several aspiring writers, who thought it would be fun to get together and challenge each other on a monthly basis. Judging is done by adding the total number of stars up and dividing by the total number of votes, so having the most stars or most votes doesn't necessarily mean you win, it's the overall average. Whoever wins gets to pick the subject matter for the next session's short stories. Please read each story and vote them all appropriately. The voting boxes are to the left of the page and are marked by story title. If you would like to leave a comment simply click on the story title above each entry, but please keep them constructive. Again, thanks for reading and I hope that everyone can get as much enjoyment out of this as I have.

User Directions

TO WHOEVER VISITS THE SITE WITH AN INTENT TO HELP, WE WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YOU VOTE ON ALL STORIES RATHER THAN JUST THE ONE YOU LIKE MOST. RATE ALL STORIES BASED ON HOW MUCH YOU LIKED THEM EACH. IN THIS WAY WE CAN GET A MORE ACCURATE TALLY FOR JUDGING THE WINNER. THANKS AGAIN FOR YOUR TIME AND VOTES, WE APPRECIATE IT VERY MUCH.

Contest Subjects

December's subject was chosen by myself and is... "A large stone was found in the middle of a field in Iowa."

The first subject for January was chosen by Sgt. Hubbard and is... "A locked box is left to you in a will."

The second subject for January was chosen by myself and is... "A person is found in the desert with amnesia."

The first subject for February was chosen by Stan Weiss and is... "The baby sitter is snooping and finds your many passports, each with a different name."

The second subject for February was chosen by T.J. Reed and is... "Rewrite a classic monster, ghost, horror story in a modern way and include the story as the title so we know what you have rewritten."


Tuesday, December 13, 2011

That Guy

"That Guy"

I am That Guy. Everyone knows me. Everyone knows my name. I'm the most talked about person, tomorrow. "Did you hear about That Guy that told jokes till everyone was literally crying for him to stop?" "Didja you see That Guy who set himself on fire last night?" "What about That Guy that spent the whole party sleeping with different women?"

I've lived my life hard and fast. Music, women, drugs. Ah, the stories I could tell you would make you weep that you weren't me. I had become such a Facebook sensation that I was invited to parties by people I'd never met.

Out of state, this one in particular. Big bonfire, loud music, women everywhere. It must have been an amazing party. At least, I hope it was. I didn’t know what all the booze and drugs were, but I can safely say I won't mix that concoction again. I drempt of all my greatest triumphs.

There was one in high school, my first one, Jessica. The sister of a friend of a friend. I stole her from someone else. When her family moved away, I drove to Maine to get her one summer. We spent an amazing week together, riding four-wheelers, laying out underneath the stars. Near the end of the week, she told me she loved me, and opened herself up, like a lotus in bloom, and gave herself to me. The next day, I overheard her talking to a friend. I yelled at her and accused her of trying to go back to her ex. She wept, but my mind could not be changed. I left her, crying on the porch of his house, states away from her own.

Then there was Mikka, a cute Brazilian whose parents had fled the country after some coup d'├ętat or something. She was THE ONE. Smart, funny, sexy, vivacious. The Blonde Bombshell. We talked about spending our lives together. We went through it all; house, marriage, kids, growing old, his and her towels. I had promised her a life I knew I couldn't deliver. When I left her for a thinner girl who was younger and had more perky breasts, I heard she was mad. But I have better things to do than worry about how my life affects others.

Mandylin was gorgeous. Beautiful smile, legs for days, the voice of an angel. Her mother loved me, her father... not so much. We went to dinners, movies premiers, gala events, slept together more than we ever slept with each other. Anywhere we went became the place to be. She was in love and I was in over my head. She bought a ring, proposed to me, made a ceremony, and I, I got to drunk to attend. She heard rumors that I slept with all the bridesmaids that night, and her sister, and her mother, and one of her cousins. I can't confirm that extravagant rumor, and I couldn't then, when she asked. I CAN say her mother likes me still.

Why, you may ask, am I recalling all these memories? You may wonder what has possessed me to relive all these moments of my life, as you may have noticed, there are higher moments better suited for reliving. The simple truth is this; I can't stop. When I arrived here at the party, I noticed a group of women dancing on a platform, a stone table. Far be it from me to question why a large stone table would be in a field, or who would drag the behemoth out here just for this event. As it matters not to me, and the thought never crossed my mind, I approached for a closer look at three magnificent sirens. The closer I got, the more transparent their clothes seemed till I was hips up to the table, hands on the surface and said, "The things I would do to you three... are illegal in all fifty states."

I woke up, still standing in this position. I see my body lying on the stone and I think I'm unconscious. Something does feel different though. Everyone from the party is gone. I'm not sure if there even was a party anymore, but there are a few things I can tell you for certain...

Jessica got back with her ex, after I left her there. They got married and had two children. Everyday her husband comes home from work and beats her and the oldest boy. He's already killed the youngest. It was ruled accidental.

Mikka wasn't just mad at me, she went mad. The next person she dated, upon separation, she beat into a coma with a Valentines' bear (holding a rolling pin) he had bought for her.

Mandylin got a job at a gentleman’s club before eventually being turned out for tricks. She was molested, raped, beaten, stabbed, shot, riddled with disease, and eventually died of a guilt and shame induced drug overdose.

I know all of this because I feel it. Every punch, every slap, every needle jab, every shamed decision. I relive all of the torment that could have been spared to them, if it weren't for me. When my body was found, the headline read, "ANOTHER SUICIDE FOUND IN IOWA NEAR PECULIAR STONE." And even though my body is gone, long since turned to dust, I stand here, hands on this stone, for eternity, alongside that guy, and that guy, and that guy, and that guy.

Turn and Turn About

"Turn And Turn About"

            Louie Hamsterdance was not a happy man.  Of course he generally never was very happy, as a rule.  He was tall and thin and had a head shaped like a hatchet with an overly large nose that made him look like a parody of Julius Caesar.  He was, in a word, bone homely.  Well, two words.
            Plus, just going through life stuck with a moniker like Louie Hamsterdance was enough to leave itching powder in anybody’s underwear.
            At the moment there were several reasons why he was unhappy.  One, he was planting corn and Louie hated corn.  He absolutely detested the smell and taste of it and never ever had a kernel of it on his dinner table.  And two, he was secretly terrified of cornfields.  Scary nasty creepy things always seemed to happen in cornfields and he wouldn’t walk into one in the dark if his life depended on it.  Louie always did his harvesting in the light of day and would flee as soon as the sun reached the horizon in the evening whether he was finished or not.
            Although it was his best selling crop, Louie always dreaded the year he had to sow corn instead of sorghum or soybeans.  That secret terror of his always gnawed at the back of his mind and made him deeply ashamed of himself.
            But not enough to make him enter a cornfield in the dark.
            Another reason he was unhappy at the moment was that his disk plow was now all bent and useless and mangled out of shape and he suspected he was going to have to buy a new one before he could finish the planting.
            The same event that broke his plow also made him break that great beak of a nose against the steering wheel of his Farmall tractor when it jerked to a halt against the huge stone buried beneath the soil of his field.  Louie paced back and forth, dripping blood into the soil and all down the front of his worn denim overalls.
            “Sunnava bidge!”  he eyed his bent plow in dismay.  One hand went up to prod his bleeding honker gingerly and he squeaked in pain.  “Ow!  Dabbid!  By plow ad by dose!  Sunnava bidge!”  Louie turned about in anger and kicked the stone hard then spent the next few minutes hopping about in even more pain as the rock did not give an inch in response to his vicious kick.
            Deciding that the rock had to go before he could continue, Louie went to the barn and got his shovel and his handy snagging cable.  It was fifty feet long and made from sturdy metal strands and had a two ton breaking point.  He used it often for removing stumps and large rocks from his farm.  Louie figured he needed to work out some of his anger before going into town and tackling the rock would be a good way to do that before talking to the guy at the farm equipment store.
            Louie was ugly and full of self loathing, but he wasn’t stupid.  The guy that sold tractors was big and mean and didn’t like Louie anyway.
            It took an hour of determined digging to clear off the top of the stone and all the way around the edges and Louie stood there scratching his head in confusion.
            “Whad the crab is dis?”  The bleeding from his nose had stopped but his sinus cavities had swelled firmly shut, distorting his words and pissing him off even more.
            The stone that now lay uncovered in his field was fully six feet across and circular, with a six inch wide slot carved across the face.  Perhaps, he wondered, there used to be a mill here and this was one of the grinding stones, left behind or discarded generations ago.  What a pain!  Why couldn’t people properly dispose of things?  Either way, it had to go.
            Taking up his cable, Louie hooked one end of it into one end of the slot and wound the cable around the stone and hooked the other end to his tractor, hoping to drag it out from the earth and thereafter out of his field.
            He slowly fed power to the Farmall, feeling the rear wheels digging into the soft earth as the front end slowly rose up in response.  At first he thought it wasn’t going to move, then he felt the machine gain a few inches of ground and move slowly forward.  When he had gained about a foot, he looked back to make sure the cable wasn’t going to pop loose and smack him in the head.  His eyebrows rose up in surprise.  He expected to see the stone dragging along behind him.  Instead, it was slowly spinning in place and rising up out of the ground!
            Nearing the end of the cable, Louie stopped and backed the tractor up to the stone again and got down to take a closer look.  Bending over made his nose hurt horribly but he did it anyway, crouching down at the edge of the dressed rock.  From what he could tell, it was about a foot thick and had risen almost all the way out of the ground.  He dug around the edge and could feel the bottom, but he was afraid to stick his hands under there, in case it fell on his fingers.
            “Whad the crab?  Wha’s hoding id ub?”  He scratched his head some more, then decided to rewind the cable and pull again.  Maybe there was another rock underneath it and it would come free with this next yank.
            As he climbed back up into the tractor seat, a shadow fell on him and he looked up to see black clouds forming quickly overhead.
            “Dag.  Storbs cobbig.  Bedder hurry.”  He gunned the motor and the tractor slowly lurched forward.  One eye behind him watched as the great stone spun in place, rising higher and higher.  And as the stone lifted out of the ground, the sky grew darker and darker.
            Once again he reached the end of the cable and backed up.  Louie could very clearly see underneath the stone now.  It was rising up on a stone shaft.  Threaded, like…. Like a screw!  Who in the world would make such a thing?  And how did it end up in his field?
            Shaking his head carefully, he rewound the cable for the third time, hoping the thing would finally pop out of the ground.  When the tractor had moved forward about two feet there was a sudden deafening crash and a great burst of light followed by a concussion the threw him from the tractor seat and onto the ground.
            Peering up carefully over his shielding arm, Louie saw that a bolt of lightning had sheared his tow cable in two!  Both ends lay smoldering on the ground.  There was another rumbling crash and he rolled away from the tractor in case it attracted another bolt. As he rolled to a stop he heard a new different noise.
            A train?  No, there weren’t any…..  His eyes rolled skyward and he saw the one thing farmers fear more than mountain lions and mice.  A twister!  The thin rope of whirling destruction was threading down from the black clouds and heading right for him!
            “Aw, crab!!!”  He knew there wasn’t anywhere to go.  No shelter available.  He was doomed.  He watched, trembling in fear as the point of the tornado reached down like a finger and dug into the soil of his field fifty feet away.  The tip was small, only about five feet across, but he knew it was strong enough to tear him limb from limb and scatter his bits for miles across the countryside.
            Suddenly the tip of the twister widened to about ten feet across and lifted a few feet off of the ground.  Louie thought it might retract up into the clouds again.  Instead it settled on top of the circular stone, which began to turn slowly back in the other direction.  Then with a sudden spin, it whirled back down into the ground so hard that it sank three feet down into the earth with a crash that lifted Louie several inches off of the ground.
            No sooner had the stone sank back into the ground then the twister weakened and dissipated, withdrawing back into the dark wet clouds above.  Louie started to rise to his feet when a new sound smashed into his ears, like twin sledge hammers against the side of his head.
            “HEY!!!”  A great rolling voice smashed him into the ground with it’s strength.  “LEAVE THAT ALONE, FOOL!  I PUT IT THERE FOR A REASON!!!”