[_Alex_]

mark?

trapped in the devils forest. will they find their escape before they fall victim to one of the forests inhabitants?

[the folly of man]

hshsskkskkskkskkkssss mark
this dude gotta tie in with Lennon's story

[altiora]

mark - with the name teal

[~Teya~]

I love those items owo

[SpartanAmethyst]

Username;;
Name;;
Gander;; (biological required)
Prompt;; From somewhere in the distance a voice echoes out to me... Or is it my own thoughts? I can't tell anymore. However, one thing is clear... I have to get out of this place.
Extras;; 600 words minimum, go crazy!

screaming

[Abraxis]

WIP
Username;; Abraxis
Name;; Mystic Ace
Gander;; Male
Prompt;; From somewhere in the distance a voice echoes out to me... Or is it my own thoughts? I can't tell anymore. However, one thing is clear... I have to get out of this place.
Extras;; 600 words minimum, go crazy!

[SkywardtheDragon]

Username;; Skywardthedragon
Name;; Laura
Gander;; Female
Prompt;;

I’m drowning.
Or am I?

You take in a deep breath, and collect yourself. You feel like you’re floating, surrounded by the crushing pressure of water. It’s not normal.
None of this is normal.

Your eyes are open, but they aren’t stung by the water. When you breathe, you don’t swallow anything. Your mind is clouded, and your eyelids struggle to stay open. Think. Think. How did I get here? You can’t find it in your head to remember why.

This place looks like no ocean you’ve ever seen; it’s gray, and misty, like a morning when the fog is just lifting off of the ground. Dark lines in the background, like trees without leaves, ascend higher until they fade out into the mist. You can’t see what’s ahead of you, just formless shapes of light and dark grey.

And, you see yourself.

Am I in a mirror?

Spread wings and pinions. The same ridged mane along your back. All twisted into a shadowy form, jet black except for pins of unblinking light for eyes. The shadow Viscet stands in front of you, staring ahead. You call out, “Hello?”

You can’t even tell if the voice has left your thoughts or not. The Viscet remains unmoving. It seems to have stepped closer, though, and you wonder if it understood.

“Can you hear me? Can anyone hear me? I’m lost here, I’m lost, I don’t know what to do, it’s like a nightmare...” You’re rambling now, to an unmoving being which may just be your own reflection. Your voice wavers as you speak, almost breaking into despair. You see no change on the Viscet’s face—if it could even be described as having one.

You turn your head away, and the Viscet strikes.

What happened?

If you had fog in your mind before, it’s become a choking cloud of smoke.

Your eyes are burning, and your joints sear with pain. You feel weighted down, and on the verge of tears.

It seems so much better to just lie down, and let the pain overtake you. It’s rather alluring, in fact. It calls to you like sleep; restful, and easy.

In a belated realization, you notice you are no longer in the strange ocean. You are in a house, small and cozy, with a stove, a fireplace, a nice-sized window, and a grandfather clock that no longer seems to work. It’s rustic, and feels like it would have been perfect if you lived 50 years ago.

You inspect the room. There’s the normal tools, like pots and utensils, though messily scattered between drawers.
Some packaged food, though you haven’t felt hungry in a while.

The grandfather clock also has a door in it. It’s stuck, but you brace yourself against the floor and grip the handle until it pops open. The force knocks you back, and you scramble to get up.

You swing open the door, and take a look inside.

What have I become?

You doubt that this is your reflection at first. Perhaps it is another creature, like the shadow that attacked you. But as you reach forward to touch the ridged skull head, your paws scrape against smooth glass.

Your wings, glorious and deft, have been reduced to bones. Your snout is a skull, and it feels tougher than your normal fur when you reach up to touch it. Parts of your mane have become your spine, and the bone brushing against your skin rubs it raw.

You scream, a mourn for your past self. In rage, you scratch at the mirror, futilely trying to erase your twisted image. Your claw catches on a divot, and the glass breaks apart into fragments.

Even through the shattered mirror, you can still see your tears.


Extras;; Added theme music to the story, to listen to while reading. You should be able to hear it while switching to another tab, no matter what device.

[SilverSamurai]

Judging!

[SilverSamurai]

So sorry about the delay on this one- I had everything read and judged but ran into a bit of conflict and had to ask the rest of the staff concerning something. Everything aside, I'm here with a winner!!


Congrats Gadgetrocks, I loved the concept you came up with, and can't wait to see you develop him further!

A future note though- if there is a base outline given, please make sure the bare minimum of the form is legible!

[Gadgetrocks]

Ahhhh!!!! Thank you so much! I have really big ideas for this dude, and can't wait to develop him further!