Py's October Writing Contest (winners announced!)

[soccerali9]

Username: soccerali9
Prompt used: leaves I guess
Note: Interpret this writing however your heart desires: I have my own thoughts, but yours are what make this enjoyable.
Submission:

First, think of all the happiness in the world. The love, the joy, the life. Now picture a world where these emotions, this euphoria is intensified, magnified, and slathered over every single second of existence. There is no suffering or pain. The only tears are from side-splitting, earth-rending, guttural laughter at the jubilation of simply being.
Oh, if only.
The inescapable, inevitable truth is death and decay. Life is stretched thin, scraped across the years with the elaborate task of survival devouring each and every scrap of time. Even the trees surrender their life-blood as the supple green chlorophyll responsible for photosynthetic glee breaks down. The leaves drip with decay. Brown infects a once brilliant bud. A deathly chill hovers in the air, waiting to smother an ignorantly vibrant speck of being. And in time, every moving and breathing thing surrenders to the inexorable, inexhaustible force of quietus. Chirruping, raucous, spirited vitality stills to a barren quiet. The rustling scrape of bare branches echoes as the clack of bone on bone in the smothering silence. A forest of stone monoliths is set ablaze with the cold fire of bloody leaves blanketing the ground. In the war of time, somber gravity always reigns down.
And yet.
The end of winter approaches.

[Ranger of the North]

I know I'm cutting it pretty close, but I've nearly finished editing my piece!! c:

[Pyjaks]

I know I'm cutting it pretty close, but I've nearly finished editing my piece!! c:

Awesome and don't worry you've still got ~6 days :>

[Ancient Wind]

Username: Cats my heart
Prompt used:Leaves
Submission: Here (sorry if it is really bad)

Leaves are falling down in the Autumn sky
They hit the ground and the noise is soft but if you open your ears
You can hear the mummer of leaves
The children run out to play
But when the night falls
You don't know what to expect
Halloween is here!

[sky,]

Username: ❝ sᴋʏ's ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴍɪᴛ .
Prompt used: Spooky
Submission: Thought it would be good to post this now rather than later. I am still editing it but overall, it is close to being finished! I hope the length is okay ;u;
Py, don't read it till the contest is finished! I want it to be a surprise. c:
Well, here goes nothin'. Link to my lengthy-ish story

[bioshocked]

Mark. WIP

Username: bioshocked
Prompt: spooky
Note: it is probably very crummy and bad because I just loose all ability to write when people are judging it.

There it was. My pale frail hands trailed down the grooves of my patted diminished vest, then proceeding up to sweep the tarnished red hair off my dry salmon crusted lips- in which had curled up to look like thin leaves misshapen into a mouth. The house bellowed before me, tall and statured, as well on a tilt- as for the mossy grass had sunken in the bottom part of the residence, the first step of engulfing it entirely into dust. The off white house with it's yellow musket stains spread throughout made it all seem to practical- as for my glass eyes winced at the sight. My feet buckled in sheer panic, my heart tinging with agonizing sorrow- as if with each beat it was saying- don't go.. you don't have to do this. I huffed in a blade of cold air, shaking off the fact and paying no remorse to my bodies flight reaction- I was going in, and I simply didn't care if I were to ever come out. I trailed down the eroded pathway- for worms had secreted from it's deep cracks and weeds grew into preposterous vines of agony. The stairs were wooden piles of dust, and as for I who would of turned away at the sight of the obsidian colored stairs that were cracked in ever inch and covered in thick layers of the earths moist and fertile soil and dust. My rubbers lightly mushed into each thick cake layer of gross on each step- leaving them coated with the last of my existence. I gulped a fragment of air forcing it into my dried aching lungs- as for the door was the worst part. It was cracked at the slightest so you could see the spaces between the hinges and the doorway- but the rest seemed lock shut, and the door knob even gave me a scrunched look of disgust and in itself, i would have to. My hand elongated from the magenta frizzy sweater it caved in and touched the brass rusted knob- and with the gentlest twist, the door had flung open. My face shriveled into a face of fear, as for when I slid my hand off the doorknob, letting each skeletal finger linger for what seemed like eternity, there was grainy pieces of what seemed to be dried up flakes of red. I shook it off- wiping it on my tattered jeans, and proceeding in. I hummed to myself a comforting song as I roamed through the creaky house- It was eroded away, every piece of it gone with each passing wind. I knew I needed to find what I came for- and get out. I repeatedly told myself over and over to go where I needed to go, despite my long slender legs trailing off in every other direction. It all merely felt like another Halloween joke- until I turned the corner, the wrong corner- my lungs twisted together clogging my throat as I gazed upon to what seemed to look like it would be the last of me. Oh no..

(sorry it is so bad- first competition >)> )

[BigWolf643]

Username: bigwolf643
Prompt used: leaves
Submission:

The creature before her looks like a cat, if a cat was made of leaves and flower instead of fur and bone. Its fur is one of leaves—yellows, reds, and oranges all fading into each other. There is a patch of rot growing on its left flank, leaves drooping and brown. Vines twine around its body, and a bright blue flower blooms above their eye. One-wing isn’t sure if the creature even has a left eye.

“You are looking for the heart, yes?” the creature asks. Its voice is like the death of warmth: the crunch of leaf-rot beneath paws, the faint cries of birds, the whispering branches of a bare tree.

“The heart?” is all One-wing can think to say. Her tail twitches behind her, causing the leaf-rot to lift from the ground, slightly, before settling back down. One dead leaf catches in the feathery tip of her tail, and One-wing resists to urge to claw it off her.

“Of the forest,” the creature explains, “Don’t tell me you don’t know of it? A flightless creature like yourself should know of the heart.” The vines around the creature’s front leg press closer, and the leaves of its pelt seem to breath as it does, rising and falling with its breaths.

“I know of the myths,” One-wing lies. She shifts her paws, the talons of her left forepaw curling into the ground. Leaf-rot snaps and hisses underneath it, and One-wing is reminded of a few days ago, when she and Suncatcher were traveling through the territory of the light-deer. There, too, the leaf-rot had tried to fight back when she dug her talons into it.

Going out on her own had been a mistake, One-wing thinks. She should’ve waited for Suncatcher to wake up.

“The myths?” the creature asks. It lets out a raspy purr, a mix between laughter and the howling of wind. The flower above its eye seems to laugh as well.

Forest-walker. One-wing recoils as the thought hits her, snapping her beak and growling deep in her throat. This creature is a Forest-walker, and it’s talking to her.

“What do you want?” One-wing spits, wing fluttering as she raises it, in some pathetic attempt to make herself scarier. “My partner is a light-deer, and if you do anything, she and her herd will crush you, and the forest you love so much will do nothing to stop them.”

Another lie. Her partner is no more light-deer than One-wing is griffin. She has no herd to speak of, other than her sister, but Riverheart left long ago. Suncatcher looks more cat than a deer, even if she is taller than any cat should be, taller than even One-wing herself, with antlers of wood and light.

But still. You can’t be half cat and still considered a true light-deer.

“A light-deer,” the Forest-walker says with a scoff. One-wing stands her ground, unsheathing her claws and digging them into the leaf-rot. It growls at her.

“Yes, a light-deer,” One-wing says, lifting her head higher. “And anyway, you won’t have to meet her if you tell me what you want.”

“What we all want,” the Forest-walker says, “A safe, happy place to live. And you and your partner are disrupting that, no? Can’t have the two of you killing the heart and escaping!”

“You’re a vile bit of leaf-rot,” One-wing spits. Forest-walkers are the forest personified, yes, but they were once living things, not vessels for leaf-rot. Because of that, they can be killed. Leaf-rot can be burned, after all.

“Am I,” the Forest-walker says. It takes a step towards One-wing, and the griffin hybrid shrieks, launching herself at the Forest-walker. Her wing beats as she digs both claws and talons into the side of the Forest-walker, but the creature simply shakes her off and step to the side, leaves already re-growing where they were torn.

One-wing lands on the ground, panting, and the leaf-rot sticks to her like mud. The vines of the Forest-walker scuttle towards her, and One-wing can’t bring herself to move. Leaf-rot is keeping her stuck in place, and the vines are already twining around her, slipping between gaps in feathers and fur.

She’s hit with memories that aren’t hers. A sunny clearing in the grasslands, singing songs of fire and heart with her littermates. Carving a story into the bone of her mother. Fire, burning the forest away, keeping the leaf-rot out of her home. Dancing through the same fire, laughing and smiling like it’s second nature.

Her sister falling prey to the forest-cats. Unfamiliar words carved into a birch tree, that speak of hopelessness and souls. A bright star in the sky, that the softpaw beside her promises leads home. The forest, digging its roots into her and refusing to let her leave. An adventure to kill the heart, only to be tricked by a Forest-walker like she was tricked by the softpaw.

One-wing lets out a wailing, warbling cry. Suncatcher can’t be far away, she hadn’t been walking long. The vines hit skin and burrow in, and it’s like they’re taking One-wing apart from the inside. Blood trickles out from between her wing-feathers and she wishes she was like the Scalewings of legend, with hearts so strong they could exhale fire and burn leaf-rot alive.

And then something changes. The vines rip out of her and leave her weak and bleeding, but free from the grasp of the Forest. There’s a blinding light to her left, and it feels like the sun has fallen from the sky. The Forest-walker howls, and the trees around One-wing thrash in pain, branches whipping through the wind. The leaf-rot under her withers and dies.

One-wing pushes herself to unsteady paws, and turns to face the light.

Suncatcher. Suncatcher, ears flat against her head, breathing hard, hooves stained with leaf-rot and crushed blue flower. Antlers shining like a soul, so bright and beautiful, a dark mahogany with light twisting and curling around them. The bones of the Forest-walker, bits of deathly white tree bark, lie in a pile, with red leaves like blood strewn around them.

One-wing opens her beak to speak, but nothing comes out but a bit of vine. She snarls and spits and crushes the vine in her talons. When she unfurls them, it slips to the ground and is absorbed by the leaf-rot.

“Hey,” Suncatcher says. She trots over to One-wing and dips her head down so One-wing can nuzzle her.

“I was about to become…” One-wing swallows and trails off, looking back at the white bark that is being eaten by leaf-rot.

“I know,” Suncatcher says. She takes a long, shuttering sigh, tail flicking behind her. “But you didn’t.”

One-wing pulls herself back, “Its heart?” she asks.

Suncatcher starts to walk, back in the direction of the place they’ve been resting at. “The leaf-rot took it,” she says, and then adds, after a moment, “I heard your cry. Robin did, too, but I convinced her to stay behind unless I signaled for help.”

One-wing is filled with relief that Robin is safe. The little bird has a tendency of getting in trouble, and if it wasn’t for Suncatcher, she would’ve died three times by now.

“It used to be a cat,” One-wing says, instead of expressing her gratitude for having Robin stay behind. Suncatcher already knows that. “When it was…you know, I saw its memories. It used to be a cat that danced through fire.”

“A fire-heart?” Suncatcher says, humming her disbelief, “I didn’t know they were still alive.”

One-wing stops to run her beak through her wing, and rip out another bit of vine. Suncatcher watches her, eyes heavy with worry.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Suncatcher asks, butting her head against One-wings wingless side, “We can sit and rest here, if you need.”

“That’d be helpful,” One-wing confesses. Suncatcher nods and slowly lies down, tucking her hooves under her body as she tries to get comfortable. When she finally manages to lower herself to the ground, One-wing cuddles up beside her, throwing her wing over the both of them.

They rest in silence, for a while. One-wing watches the light that swirls around Suncatcher’s antlers, and Suncatcher watches the purple and pinks of dawn bleed into the blues of morning.

“We have to be careful,” One-wing finally says, looking at the four talons on her left forepaw. They’re a deep reddish-brown, stained with the blood of leaf-rot.

“You’re the one who went out alone,” Suncatcher says, with a snort, but there’s worry in it. One-wing croons an apology and twines her tail with Suncatcher’s. Suncatcher grumbles her response, but it’s filled with warmth.

“We’re getting closer,” One-wing continues, and the feathers mixed in with her fur tingle with anticipation, “We’re so close, now, I can almost taste it.”

“I know,” Suncatcher says, deep brown eyes sparkling with glee, “What do you think we’ll find? Ocean? Mountains?”

“Anything but forest, I hope,” One-wing says with a laugh, and then, “I love you.”

Suncatcher licks the side of One-wing’s face. “I love you too,” she says.

The wind tugs at fur and feather, but the two don’t move. They stay there, curled into each other, until the world is right and good again. Only then, once they’re both okay, do they stand and continue on their way home.

[Pyjaks]

Hey guys, reminder that the contest ends in 3 days! Please make sure your submissions are done by then. Thanks for all the entries so far, I cant wait to read them <33

[IHaveHooves]

Username: TheLastDragonLord
Prompt used: Pumpkins
Submission:

There it sat, resting on the table. A large pumpkin recently brought into the home by my mother. Today was the day I finally got to carve it. My mom told me I had to wait for it to warm. The pumpkin was previously placed in the hallway near a vent to speed up the heating process. The wait was unbearable as I did all I could to make it warm up. I even resorted to sitting on it as if it were an egg. Finally all those nights of cold butts have paid off. Sitting on the chair I took the knife in my very excited hands. Perhaps an excited teen and a knife wasn't the best mix but hey, that's what 911 is for. Pushing the blade through the top I cut out a fairly large circle out of the top, granting me access to extract the harvested plant's innards. After about an hour or two of not so hard labor and orange goop, the insides were clean. Sticking my face a little inside to double check that I got it all out. That's when the Idea struck me, this hole is about the size of my head so I should put this on my head. Looking over at my mom, I make sure she is distracted by the television. I carefully push my head inside and lift up the pumpkin with my hands. This was a good idea. Emphasis on was. Setting it down before I get in trouble I try to pull my head out. My heart sped up as I realized the mistake I just made. "Well crap, mom!" I shout as I try to pull my head out. Rushing over to me, she simply lifted it off my head. "Oh" I awkwardly laughed, my mom gave me a disapproving look and went back to her chair. After this fiasco, I decided that I needed food and a break from that evil pumpkin.

[beeqlass]

Username:
Prompt used:
Submission: (can post it on the thread or link to another thread)

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