{ inklings writing contests } NEW CONTEST

[watermelon.]

Sorry
Creative bump

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Adopt virtual pets at Chicken Smoothie!

[lucas.]

ignore please

[g0ne]

“Bones, Thibault,” she snapped. “Bones are the most interesting aspect of the body!”
The rest of the party hushed as all the eyes fell upon the two. Thibault blinked. “Bones? But, why not something more... oh, I don’t know... hey now! Why not eyes!”
The lady sighed. “No no, my friend. You have a tenuous grasp upon my bias. You see, the surface is transient -- why, Thibault, I’ve known you for absolutely for-ever and I can assure you that you’re not the looker you used to be!” Behind his heavy horn-rim glasses, the man flushed. “But bones!” she said, throwing a hand to her brow. “They tell the whole story!”
“Lady Isabella,” one of the guests said, “perhaps you should be reminded of your companions...”
“If you’re here, you know I hardly behave like a lady!” she replied, twirling her silver fox stole. “Anyways, one day Rory and I were walking on the beach -- we were six or so -- and we found a dead seal. It was very well picked over, mostly defleshed, though it still had the slight stench of dead things, you know? I twisted its skull right off its neck!” She laughed, while her guests balked. “Poor Rory almost had a fit. Mother was ‘very disappointed’ but thank God for good old Charlie! He had worked in the museum as a specimen prepper before coming on to help Mother with the brood. He helped me clean it up. I called the seal Braxton, and he’s still up in my study.”
“Lady Isabella,” one of the older women said. “I can’t imagine why you hosted a party if all you’re going to do is horrify us with your macabre pasttimes!” She lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper and added. “When you should be looking for an appropriate husband.”
Isabella stood suddenly, her tawny eyes narrowed. “I wish everyone a good night then. Happy Hallow’s Eve.” She flipped her fox stole over her shoulder and strode upstairs. The rest of the party was silent, until Thibault stood.
“Lady Racbourne,” he admonished, “that was uncalled for. I don’t see why you come to these parties.”
“Her mother makes me come to these dreadful things!” she said. “Honestly! I would much rather be at my home crocheting.”
Another man yawned. “I have no energy for scruples. I am off to bed as well. Pleasant sleep, everyone!”
Mumbled agreements came from the remainder of the party, and they retired to their respective rooms. Once they were gone, the butler - like a sort of sleek cat - moved about the huge old house and extinguished the candles in the jack-o-lanterns that were carved earlier that day.

☠ ☠ ☠

A scream broke the night silence. All the other guests startled from their beds and rushed out into the hall.
“Where?” they demanded of their equally ignorant fellows.
“Here!” One gasped.
The door was open. Lady Racbourne was splayed out across the bed, her hands throttling the sheets. Her throat was laid open, vermillion across her nightclothes.
“A murder!”
“By whom?”
“How?”
“Look!” Thibault said, pointing to a white object, just peeking out from under the chest at the foot of the bed. He pulled out a handkerchief and picked it up.
“Why, it’s a skull!”
The group fell quiet.

“What’s all the comm--!”
All the heads turned to the doorway. Lady Isabella stood there, mute, her eyes wide in horror.
“Lady Isabella,” Thibault murmured at last, showing her the skull in his hand.
“The wolverine?” she said. “How did that get there...?”
“What do you mean? It’s one in your collection, isn’t it?” one of the guests demanded.
“It was,” she agreed. “But I dropped it from the fourth floor three years ago. It was in too many pieces, and I only had the one -- look, it has the same filed look to its incisors, it must be the same skull -- but I had the butler burn it.” Thibault set the skull back on the chest. “But it’s in one piece - how?”
They started at a soft rasp sound. “What was that?”
“Never mind the noise,” Lady Isabella whispered. “Where did the skull go?”
The bloodied handkerchief was empty.

I had fun writing it good to have a change of pace.

[I'm Not The Only One]

Scratch, scratch, scratch

In my childhood I was brought up with cats and dogs. I got to see the pros and cons of both species, but one thing they had in common was scratching on your door in the middle of the night. I first heard the sound at eleven at night. Scratch, scratch, scratch.

"Quit it Muffy," I sleepily yelled at the door.

But then I heard it again. Scratch, scratch, scratch. I groaned loudly and ripped my duvet off. I had important exams in the morning and needed my sleep so I could concentrate! But then I realised something. I live alone. Muffy died ten years ago. I no longer have exams to do.

My heart began to race as I heard the scratching again. My blood pounded in my ears, my heartbeat was getting faster and faster, my face became white as a ghost and I couldn't stop shaking. I reached under my bed and grabbed the cricket bat that I kept there in case someone broke into the house. I am a very paranoid person.

Bat in hand, I crept toward the door. Scratch, scratch, scratch. I couldn't hear anything but the rapid beating of my heart as I gripped the door knob and tried to twist it. The first two times my hand slipped off, as I was sweating like a pig. Finally it twisted and the door creaked open slowly.

I raised my bat into the air, ready to smack whatever was there. But there was a problem. There wasn't anything there. It was just my little wooden hallway. There were the flowers I was going to give my mother for her birthday on the small table, my full glass of water beside it and the dust that had gathered on the floor wasn't disturbed.

What if there really isn't anything? I thought to myself. You stupidly paranoid person.

But then I hear that scratching sound again. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Except this time it came from my bedroom. I slowly turned around, dreading what I was about to see and what was going to happen.

In the blackness of my room, all I could see were bright red eyes staring straight at me. Then a searing pain in my chest.

--

Here's my entry, I hope you all enjoyed it! It was nice to write horror for once c: Good luck to everybody entering!

[watermelon.]

Thank you for all of the entries everyone!

[g0ne]

are you going to add the more recent entrants to the poll soon? c:

[watermelon.]

Currently the poll is for a past contest I will take it down soon

[g0ne]

I see! I guess I should've checked out all the links before I asked, heh.

[tricks]

Here's a prompt.

Your charater meet's their genderbender without knowing, and they spend a weekend together in an island. What will happen during this time, and will they ever find out about their gender-bender?

Thanks! Sorry, I already posted the prompt for this time, but I was wondering what a genderbender is?

This is soooo cool. I hope we can do this sometime <3

[A Random Moustache]

No, no. This isn't happening.
There's no way my friend will do that!
No, no, no.

I stood there, grieving, crying, staring at the horrendous sight.

No, no, no.
This is all just a nightmare.
No, no, no.

I know she's under depression but there's NO way my best friend, Tapya, would do that.
No, no, no.

"She's just asleep, hun. Everything will be alright."
Sob, cry, wail, sniff.

WIP