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.

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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."

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Infestation Story

Luckily, I saw the creature before it saw me. My luck doesn’t always run like that. When that last incident with the Snapes went down last year I was caught totally flat footed and just barely survived. I’ll tell you what… The last place you want to be is down a blind alley facing a handful of hungry Snapes when the only thing you are armed with is a trash can lid and a Swiss army knife.

It was touch and go there for a minute.

But this time I saw the thing first. Caught it’s reflection in a store window as I was admiring a new crossbow in the display of WonMugs Hardware. At first it was just a glimpse. But my subconscious mind picked up on it and all of the hair on the back of my neck rose in alarm. Turning slightly and trying to look casual, I stole a closer look.

Oh yeah. There was no doubt about it. Hoo boy. This could get ugly. What were the guys at the border doing? Playing Parcheesi?

From the direction the creature was headed, I figured it was homing in on The Club. Their kind always do. I don’t know why they keep that place open. If you ask me, it’s nothing more than a magnet for this kind of slime.

Then again, if it weren’t for The Club, then the streets would be hip deep in young pretty boys in leather pants trying to be all Guido in front of normal people and we can’t have that, can we?

Would it be all that bad if I let the creature eat a few empty headed mooks? Just a few? Ahh… It was nice to think about, just for a moment. But, no. Where there’s one there’s bound to be more. They usually run in packs of at least three or more. And Lawd help us if those nasty things started breeding somewhere around here. They would level this town in days.

Cutting through the alley I ran up a side street and got a couple of blocks ahead of the beast, slipping the pack off my shoulders and readying myself for the assault. While I got prepared I mumbled the litany from the Book of Armaments by Gygax.

“Look not into the eyes of the beast

Strike quickly and without hesitation

Sanitize your land of unclean things

And keep your freaking wits about you.”

A small mirror from my pocket gave me a good view of the creature as it came up the sidewalk. An unlearned man might mistake for an attractive if not beautiful, woman. Long shapely legs and a tight compact body with viscerally attractive bumps and bulges here and there along the torso. Long curly jet black hair and dark smoldering eyes set above what might be considered to be a “classic” nose. All encased in a tight black velvet dress that hugged all of those curves in all of the right places.

Yes, indeed. An unlearned man might very easily fall into the trap of this walking black widow spider. But not me. I could smell the layers of expensive makeup and perfume that wafted from the creature like the miasma from a dumpster on a hot summer day. And just underneath the stench was the sickly sweet smell of silicone mixed with Botox. It was enough to almost make the bile rise in my throat. I almost cursed aloud that such vile predatory creatures were allowed to exist.

I started out of my reverie in shock. The beast was almost upon me! Backing deeper into the alley I grabbed up an empty cardboard box and held it up in front of my eyes, letting my ears tell me the time to move.

The clack clack of those deadly stiletto heels made the ice run in my veins. I’d heard tales of them disemboweling a man with once vicious swipe of those heels. I held my breath until it stepped into the entrance of the alleyway.

“Hey!” The thing paused. I could see its feet as I glanced underneath the box.

“Found a Prada handbag here. Did you lose one?”

“IT’S MINE!!!” the creature shrieked “GIVE IT TO ME!!!”

Dropping the box to the ground as the beast dove at it in a fury; I stepped to the side and reached under my coat. Forty eight inches of cold Damascus steel as black as night with a handle of the finest American made parachute cord slipped into my hand like it was a part of my own body. I had only a fraction of a second to strike. The vile thing had instantly clawed the box to bits looking for its prize then froze in dismay when it found nothing but old copies of “The Village Voice” and some wilted Cilantro.

That tiny hesitation was what I was waiting for. My blade came up and down in a blink, severing the creatures head from its neck in one clean motion. The head tumbled away down the alley and its body fell to the ground in a spasm. I drove the blade through its back, pinning it to the ground. I’d heard they could live for hours or even days without their heads. I wasn’t taking any chances. My weight leaned into the blade, keeping the shuddering torso pinned while the head hissed at me from under the edge of a dumpster.

After what seemed like hours, both bits of the thing lay still. I removed my blade and donned a pair of thick gloves. Hefting the body up, I dropped it into the dumpster and bent to retrieve the head. I could hear soft gnashing noises as the foul head still tried to bite at me in death. Following the set protocols I dug into my pack and removed a Big Mac and stuffed it between the gnashing teeth, silencing them forever.

With that I flipped the head into the dumpster and set about cleaning up and putting my things back, confident of a job well done.

Suddenly I heard a car door slam out on the street. A loud nasally voice creaked “Kim? Kim? Where are ya’? The goils and me are heah!”

Oh snap! More of them! Another quick glance with my mirror showed at least five more gathered on the sidewalk in front of a Lincoln Town Car.

Realizing this was more than I could handle on my own, I hot footed down the alley towards the town square. I had to raise the alarm!

It seemed like my legs were made of lead and I was running in quicksand in my desperation. But finally I reached the square and burst into the front door of the church, ducking through the hallway in the side to the bell tower.

Grabbing the rope with both hands I began clanging the bell just as loud and as fast as I could, hoping that folks roused quickly and realized their danger. In between peals of the bell I leaned out the window and shouted:


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