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    1. #1
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      Campfire Challenge(Event)


      Campfire Challenge!

      "It's time to sit around the campfire and endure the challenge of Story Telling. Halloween is just around the corner and your neighbors dare you to write a story for the occasion, but they have little faith that you can meet this challenge. With confidence, you suck in a deep breath, stare into every reader and listener sitting around you and begin the most horrifying tale they ever dreamed to hear..."

      They say the pen is mightier than the sword, well if that's the case then you should have no trouble fending off the horrors you create.

      Details:

      The premise is a simple one. With Halloween almost here, we're all in need of a good scare. So we challenge you to write a story to send shivers down the spines of all those who read it. The story needs to be relevant to Halloween, similar to a campfire horror story and everything else is up to you. If you want zombies, write about zombies. If you want demons, write about demons. So long as it's terrifying, it can be used as an entry.

      Rules:

      1) The story length is up to you, whether it be just a few paragraphs with some very intense moments, or a longer, suspense filled story the choice is yours.

      2) The event will run until October 30th, with the voting thread being posted on the 31st. Voting will last 1 week. No poll, people vote for their favourite.

      3) If you don't want to do a story, perhaps POM#6 will interest you. If so, check the rules here: Poem of the Month #6: Halloween - Trick or Treat

      4) Submissions should be posted in this thread, with the voting thread linking back to each piece.

      5) Pieces previously posted on AL will not be counted, please write something new and refreshingly dark or morbid. Haunty if you'd like.

      Prizes:
      2,000 - 1st Place
      1,500 - 2nd Place
      1,000 - 3rd Place
      500 - Participants

      Winners Will Receive a correlated Placement Award with Credits
      First Place Winner will Have their piece promoted to the Front Page & Featured in November's Newsletter.

      Good luck and enjoy
      Last edited by ImmortalJed; 10-23-2012 at 10:57 PM.
      • Kilidath thanked ImmortalJed for 150 Credits: posted to front page


      Quote Originally Posted by Melmo View Post
      So Drifty broke his bed and Jed is electrocuting everyone. Business as usual then. Carry on!

    2. #2
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      This wonderful event has been added to the calender.

    3. #3
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      This has inspired me to start working on a scary short story I've had in my head for a while. I will try my best.
       

    4. #4
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      Momusu: That's cool, I'm glad you're giving it a go. The more the merrier.


      Edit: Had a PM regarding this, asking if the entry can be made anonymously. I posted it below for all to see.
      Last edited by ImmortalJed; 10-24-2012 at 09:41 PM. Reason: Adding the additional info.


      Quote Originally Posted by Melmo View Post
      So Drifty broke his bed and Jed is electrocuting everyone. Business as usual then. Carry on!

    5. #5
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      Anonymous Entry

      On a day, often referred to as beggar's night, one bashful, yet beautiful young lady dawned her elaborate costume in hopes that she would collect all kinds of delicious candies. This year, Diska was a vampire. She even had these realistic-looking fangs and fake blood which had been carefully painted around her mouth to give the impression of a recent meal.

      Waiting for the event to commence was quite unbearable, so she passed the time dreaming of chocolate ears, candy corn, and pixie stix. Finally, the time had come. Diska wiped away the drool dripping from her lips, including some of her makeup. It stained her sleeve a rusty red but she paid this no mind, for her focus was already occupied by the current objective of hunting down those sugary sweets.

      As she stepped from her doorway and skipped past the decorative jack-o-lanterns sitting ominously on her porch, Diska realized something... the streets were empty. Baren of rowdy children, dressed up for the occasion. How could this be? For a moment, the bashful, beautiful, young lady stood, frozen by bewilderment.

      Diska tried knocking on the doors of her neighbors. Nobody was home. Or perhaps they just didn't answer. How incredibly rude, she thought. This only puzzled the pretend vamp further. After countless tries, she gave up. Deeply disappointed, she opted to kick around a lonely pebble, until suddenly, she felt a very light pressure placed on her right shoulder. Diska jerked away, towards the left, catching a glimpse of a small, fluttering, black figure that seemed to disappear into the night's new darkness. A sharp shriek escaped from her lungs. Upon turning around in attempt to flee, she was met with a shadow... much darker than the night.

      "Don't be afraid, my child. It is only, I, Count Von Wooster! Are you in search of this?" The creepy, ill-postured man held up a bag with the word "Skittles" written in black sharpie marker. Hmm...
      "No. Um, excuse me, but, I have to go home now. It's getting late and I am hungry." Diska said to him in a shaky voice.
      "What a coincidence! Me too! I invite you to my mansion for supper! Please accept!" The count was overly zealous.
      "I really must decline your offer... sorry, but I have school tomorrow," she replied as she begun marching hurriedly in the opposite direction. As if her day wasn't strange already, this hideous, older man was doing his best to coax her along with him. What she said was true, she was starving and had to get up early the next day. Despite the fact she pitied him, he made her very uncomfortable, and the whole idea of being his dinner guest, or even talking to him at all, violated her stranger danger policy.

      Very abruptly, Count Von Wooster grabbed hold of Diska's hand, "nonsense! Foolish, child," he scoffed, "you don't know what you're missing!" She dug her heels into the dirt road, but it was no use... he was too strong, and while forcibly dragging her behind him, he cackled psychoticly the entire time it took to reach his mansion. No one could hear her screams. No one would help her even if they did.

      It was clear his intentions had nothing to do with them sharing a couple chicken legs at the dusty antique table before them. The unlit chandelier covered in cobwebs, accompanied by the awful-looking gargoyles (just outside the entrance of the building she was now trapped within) were unsettling at the very least! Although, in that moment, Diska hadn't seen the pile of bones sticking out from underneath the set of stone stairs. Soon, she would be one with them.

      "So, you wanted to be a vampire for Halloween, correct?"
      "Wanted?" She whispered hesitantly, fear illuminating in her green eyes.
      "Well, I will show you just how it's done..." And that's when Von Wooster chomped down on her innocent neck and drew from her virgin blood. It splattered across the gray brick flooring as she struggled and screamed. He loved the sound, the taste, the thrill of this, and continued to feed on the girl's O negative.

      Delicious, he thought as the last, iron-flavored drop trickled down his thoat. Poor Diska was drained dry... No one told her that trick-or-treat was cancelled due to the recent deaths in her unfortunate community. But of course, they'd have to be alive to tell! Count Von Wooster transformed into the fluttering, black figure that was his bat form and flew against the full moon at midnight. You and I both know... the moon wasn't the only thing that was full. Burp!

      THE END


      Quote Originally Posted by Melmo View Post
      So Drifty broke his bed and Jed is electrocuting everyone. Business as usual then. Carry on!

    6. #6
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      *Blinks* You know... I kind of found this humorous by the end. But I'll await other entries and the voting thread before critiquing/commenting etc.

      Thank you to the writer for this creative piece.

    7. #7
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      Are you meant to just copy and paste the entire story here? Because mines turning out to be quite long
       

    8. #8
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      That's fine Detective. If you're still unsure you can PM it to me and I'll check the length. Either that or post it in two halves.


      Quote Originally Posted by Melmo View Post
      So Drifty broke his bed and Jed is electrocuting everyone. Business as usual then. Carry on!

    9. #9
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      Or @Detective V you can always put it int spoiler tags with a Warning Message above the story and Tag. Like this:


      This Ghost Story Entry may be fairly lengthy and may take some time to read:
        Spoiler:  
      Insert lengthy story here with spoiler tags around it. Spoiler tags, if you are unsure can be auto added by highlighting the story in "go advanced" and then clicking the spoiler image.

    10. #10
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      Ok, thank you
       

    11. #11
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      The Cerris Phantom

      (In spoiler sign because this story is quite long.)

        Spoiler:  
      The flickering candle illuminated the nervous bespectacled man as he fidgeted uncomfortably on his hard wooden seat. Before him was a desk covered with a single worn tablecloth, once pristine white but now a jostling mass of faded stains. Opposite him, perching as still as a statue, was a shriveled old woman, her wrinkles like deep craters running across her features, slightly obscured by a stand of silver web like hair.
      Unable to bear the overwhelming silence, the man finally opened his mouth, “I,” he paused as if doubting his own tongue, “I have a question to ask you about,” another stutter, then, after a seconds consideration, he continued with a determined look in his timid blue eyes, “About ghosts”
      “Ask” replied the crone completely motionless. The man almost felt tempted to lean forward and check whether her lips had actually moved but fear kept him rooted in his seat.
      “Do” questioned the shivering man, feeble voice trembling faintly, “only people become ghosts?”
      “All things which have a soul can become a ghost,” answered the aged occult specialist, this time her dry cracked lips did move, clearly articulating every syllable which made it only more disturbing that the rest of her features stayed perfectly still, as if her mouth was on a different overlapping layer to the rest of her face, “And all things, given time, can grow a soul. Be it a single blossom or a well worn book,” a pause, allowing the information to sink in, “Or perhaps even a house.”
      Seeing a slight shocked tremor run through her client, the wizened old woman slowly smiled a sickly thin-lipped grin. In one quick movement, her hand a pale bony blur like the swift slither of a starved white serpent, she crushed the orange flame of the candle in the palm of her withered hand, suddenly casting the cramped windowless room into total darkness, “Now,” she hissed quietly to the whimpering man, “Tell me what happened.”

      That morning I awoke for the first time in the newly built glamorous modern construction: an elegant architectural creation of sharp attractive cubes, the floor all a neatly tessellated white plain of pearl coloured stone tiles which beautifully reflected the light pouring in through the large spacious windows. The final adjustments to this expensive bachelor house had just finished the day before and the previous night had been the very first evening with a resident.
      A vast sum of money had disappeared into its making, starting from the old dusty wooden countryside house: a good sized property with a garden spacious enough to house several bushes and an oak tree but dangerously unstable with old age, built solely out of decrepit creaking wood. This had been carefully torn down and entirely replaced, where the rotting husk of an ancient mansion once stood, now comfortably sat a stylish designer bungalow.
      Feeling well rested, though my mind was a still a little hazy and confused with the yet retreating mists of sleep, I raised myself from the bed with a yawn and swung my legs off the side of my gleaming metal framed bed. I placed one foot down onto the refreshingly cold floor and, sleepily ignoring its creaking complaint, I energetically propelled myself upright firmly planting my other foot onto the ground in the process, another short sharp creak rang out in accompaniment.
      Feeling oddly thirsty, I began to walk across the tiled bedroom floor thinking to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. Each step I took was echoed by a hollow grating squeal of wood, wood centuries old that had stood in place, ever so slowly decaying with time. With each sharp scream emitted by the floor, my throat grew drier and my sense of unease stronger. I felt a painful drumming in my head, each thump more agonizing than the last, each ringing beat a flashing warning frantically roaring that something was wrong.
      Suddenly, at the door leading out of the bedroom, I stopped, the plank creaking a long drawn out sigh as I placed my full weight on it. Except that there was no plank, the bedroom, identical to the rest of the house, was tiled with solid silent stone. Slowly, hesitantly, I dropped my gaze slightly to the floor before me, it was definitely composed of newly polished immovable granite. Fearfully, feeling a shiver run through my hand, I took another small step forward. The round heel of my foot camp slowly into contact with the cold stable stone, then, as I put my wait onto it, a long drawn out creak, like the dying scream of some unearthly creature, filled my ears. Even in my panicked state I remembered the sound, the familiar squeal of gnarled old wood, the same haunting noise I had heard when the original property had first been inspected before its eventual demolition and replacement.
      Terrified I ran blindly on towards the kitchen, dazed and illogical like a scared child, convinced that if I somehow reached that room my nightmare would end. The cursing wailing creak of old wood rang out with every motion I took and as if in time to this, a single phrase flashed through my mind over and over again. A crazed mad chant that blossomed and withered sporadically, like the fierce painful bursts of a desperate dying heart, writhing in the centre of my mind:
      The house is new but the land is old. The house is new but the land is old. The house is new but the land is old, the house is new but the land is old, the house is new but the land is old the house is new but the land is old the house is new but the land is old. And the old have power.
      I burst into the kitchen and there I saw a monster, a brutal killer, a murderer and I remembered all. In horror I pointed one crooked crumbling finger, scarred with deep wood grains, at the pale staring evil sitting bolt up right at the kitchen counter, its spectacles hanging crookedly across two shocked blue eyes. It wasn’t the house that had been creaking, it had been my own aged body. I opened my mouth and…

      “Then it s…s…screamed,” wailed the client stuttering with obvious distress, “It wasn’t like any scream I’ve ever heard before, not like anything you could hear on this earth! A hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand old planks all shrieking at once! A… An ugly abhorrent orchestra, a roaring high pitched cacophony! Like… like a deep angry enraged roar from the very depth of the heart.”
      He paused, shivering and out of breath, “Except it didn’t have a heart be… because it was made of wood! It had the shape of a thin man but formed entirely out of a s…s…single deformed contorted tree, It’s eyes were just hollows! Dark depthless holes in its big bulbous out of proportion head that bobbed backwards and forwards as it screamed! And its mouth!”
      “Or at least I think it was a mouth… A big gaping wooden cave, could fit a man’s whole head easily, below its eyes…. You might think its odd that I don’t know if one hole is a mouth or not but do know the others are eyes… It’s… It’s because they were staring at me… I could feel it… the pitch black hate filled glare as it pointed its trembling branch of a finger at me.”
      “Then what,” came the old woman’s disembodied voice, almost gentle, coaxing through the darkness.
      “Then,” sighed the man exhausted, “then it just crumbled… fell apart into a messy pile of old woodchips… I swept them up… and then I burnt them”
      The wizened crone snorted in response, as if dissatisfied at the lack of a gorier more shocking outcome from the story, then with an undisguised tone of regret she uttered, “You’ll be fine, it’ll appear from time to time but its harmless”
      “But what is it?” inquired the man curiously, more or less relieved at the vaguely comforting words of the woman.
      “Just a ghost” sighed the crone unenthusiastically, while nimbly striking a match to relight the candle, already losing interest in the client before her, “the ghost of a senile old oak tree. Be a dear and send in the next client as you leave will you?”
       

    12. #12
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      Clever!

    13. #13
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      Awesome, another entry. I look forward to giving it a proper read (I'm currently writing mine) It looks like there will only be 3 entries at this rate(provided I finish mine in time :/)


      Quote Originally Posted by Melmo View Post
      So Drifty broke his bed and Jed is electrocuting everyone. Business as usual then. Carry on!

    14. #14
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      ImmortalJed, I'm sure there will be others.

    15. #15
      Managed to give away my ticket, still sick as a dog.
       
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      Re: Campfire Challenge(Event)

      Still working
       

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