[Cheeb]

marking!! q o q

[SolarSam]

Username + number: SolarSam + 836917
Name: Arden
Prompt (500 words max): (499 words)

Arden is enjoying a nice, quiet evening with his son and daughter when suddenly, there is a harsh knock at his door.
"Anyone there? We're here to talk!" A voice sounds from outside. Arden glances towards the window.
Clearly, they did not actually come just to talk, considering at least two of them are carrying weapons. Arden wills his breathing to stay even and calm as he turns back towards his children.

He crouches down in front of the oldest, gently cupping her face.
"Remember what I told you to do when something like this happens?" He murmurs softly, trying to sound as reassuring as he can.
His daughter diligently replies: "Go hide in the woods until you come get us."
He smiles, pulling both of them towards him for a quick, but fierce, hug before lightly pushing them away again.
"Very good."

The pounding on the door is growing louder with every second. It won't be long now until it gives in under the pressure.
"Go on then, I'll catch up with you in just a moment." Arden says, ushering the kids out the back door.
Once he's sure they are out of sight, he takes a deep breath and turns his focus inwards. He can feel the Thing inside of him snarling angrily, straining against the chains keeping it safely locked away. He breathes out, and lets the chains drop.

Immediately, Arden is hit by a wave of pain. He clenches his teeth, legs shaking with the sheer force of it, but remains standing.
Head held high even as he can feel his body crumble and reshape itself around him, he looks towards the door.
Right as it splinters beneath the force of the repeated strikes, he feels his consciousness slip away.
And everything goes dark.

When Arden awakes, he is laying on the floor. The smell of iron hangs heavy in the air.
His head is swimming and his vision is blurry, but he is himself again.
The attackers are gone, too. He tries his best not to think about what happened to them.

Slowly, he stands, wincing slightly when a sharp sting of pain races through his back leg. Ah. So they managed to get a couple hits in afterall.
Arden groans, doing a full-body stretch to get feeling back into all of his limbs. His back creaks in protest. Transformations were never pleasant, but at least he actually managed to turn back in a timely fashion for once.
If he focuses hard enough, he can still feel the beast clawing at his insides, howling to be let out again.
He shakes his head, shuddering. Best not to dwell on it. Besides, he has to get back to his kids now.

Without looking back, he exits the house through the shattered door, pausing for a moment to gaze at deep claw marks marring the house's previously undamaged wall.
As he makes his way towards the woods, he leaves red pawprints in the dirt behind him.

[Rabbit]

Username + number: Rabbit + 623629
Name:
Prompt (500 words max):

mark

[LokisTrick]

Username + number: LokisTrick + 47801
Name:
Prompt (500 words max):
The whisper

[captain dude]

Username + number:
Name:
Prompt (500 words max):
Mark

[elf_of_the_hollow]

username & number. elf_of_the_hollow / 352032
name. elysian
prompt. [ 500 / 500 ]


you were so young. you were a tiny, shining beacon for your people; a reflection of their hope, their happiness. and you were not younger than the world is cruel.

your people need you. sweat breaks out on your brow, your heart pounding in your chest, tears on the edge of spilling. you have to be strong. you have to be strong when they cannot be.

you stand. your hands are shaking, your knees weak, but you are standing. they need you, they need you, they need you. you tell yourself this is what's right. you walk towards a balcony, loud cries coming from just outside growing louder with each step, and your vision starts to blur and distort as you make your way towards the sound. you are not the king your father once was, or the queen that your mother is. but you need to be right now. you need to do this. for your people. for your nation.

a gale of voices hits you as you step out into the cold winter air. a raucous, restless crowd sits miles beneath your feet, all jeering at you and howling out their dissent. your mother stands behind you, her face like ice, her heart just as cold. she places and hand on your shoulder to steady you, but she cannot steady the breath coming out in erratic waves. your mind buzzes incoherently as you feel your eyes start to sting. you tell yourself it's just the frigid air.

your mother starts to speak, her harsh voice ringing out to silence the dissenting crowd. her speech fades out in your ears. all you can hear is the blood rushing through your veins, and the crowd that deafens you. shut up, shut up, shut up. you hear them cheer and you know it's done. your mother has decided. your people have agreed. for your love of them, you were already committed. your love of your people, your love of your family, your love of your nation. you would do anything for them. your mother tells you so.

she guides you inside. her voice is soft, her hands warm as she wipes your cheeks. her face is still like ice. she assures you this was the only option. you believe her; for your age, your love. you are making this sacrifice for them. you are their little beacon. she guides you down the stairs, through tunneling halls and imposing doors, reaching the front gate where the air hits you again. guards stand at your sides, as committed as yourself to your nation. you step into the carriage, and your mother smiles at you for the first and last time.

the gate opens. you hear the crowd. you see their faces, joyous at your parting. they are not your people anymore. you are heading north, to a different kingdom. your eyes start to well again as your nation disappears behind you, and you are struck by a bittersweet truth. the war is over.

[rabbit...]

Username + number: rabbit... 45617
Name: Norrow
Prompt:

In a cabin by the woods, lives Norrow. He likes the solitude that it affords him and the visitors that sometimes drop in after wandering the woods for a few days.

Norrow bakes bread simply put, he learned from his parents in that simple trades way. Yet war is on the village's doorstep and it starts being less simple. The nearby village all know that Norrow bakes bread, but it heals scrapes and wounds for the traveling adventures, assassins and merchants alike. They are grateful for the help and don't question where this life magic came from. No one ever really asks, they merely leave coins take a loaf of bread. Norrow hopes that no one ever asks.

It is always too simple to merely hope.

The skies cried tears of scarlet that day, flooding the lands with grief and leaving only empty husks in its wake. The villagers sang hymns of happiness since the struggle was over, but Norrow wept with the rain.

It was the first time since the war began that he had truly mourned for everything that was lost, the death of the soldiers, the death of the villagers, the death of the kingdom. The rot within the aristocracy was rooted deeply in their souls and blinded them with rose tinted futures and new land to take over. Norrow knew that the aristocracy couldn't be trusted but what is a simple pawn to do?

He steadfastly healed the allies in his unit and parceled out bread whenever there were leftovers. But it is never enough.

Norrow had practiced when he was making bread, the power over life. He tugged and a flower withered to bake a bun potent enough to heal a bruise. Tugged and a field of grass yellowed to make a loaf of bread. Tugged and a boar died and it would be enough to fill the shelves for a day.

That day, there was nothing else to take from that side. Norrow's group was reduced down to one so Norrow pulled and pulled until the enemy soldiers kneeled into the dirt, too weak to move. Norrow's dead allies took on a new shaky lease on life. They stood one foot after another and descended upon the weakened soldiers.

When the battle was over, Norrow stooped over exhausted. There was a tug on his shirt and he looked over to see one of his revived ally.

"Please, let me rest", the soldier rattled.

Norrow looked to the distance. He pulled one last time and his allies crumbled back to the earth.

427 words

[Ucanthandleme]

Username + number: Ucanthandleme + 809102
Name: Carbon
Prompt:
Doubles. The second chance of life. It was the concept of looking in a mirror and what was waiting for you was an exact copy, dna, personality, likes and dislikes all of it was doubled in another one of you. Their life was your life, what they experienced you experienced, you were them… but they were not you. They were the original and you were the copy, an imitation of the real thing, but the problem was the imitation was done so well. The world of the mirror, where everyone from birth was giving a clone of themselves. The clone grew with your body and mind, you were exactly alike from birth. The reason for having a double? Well in case you died of course, you could liken it to a guaranteed second life, you would still be living after all your double was exactly like you.

Carbon was a double, the double of a child who lived in the slums. From birth to death he and his original will live together, until both died or he took the original’s place. Such was the way of life. Carbon loved his original, he knew this well, his original loved him too. Perhaps it was due to his original having no family to rely on like others and he was the only one there, but both of them treated the other with much affection. Many times Carbon would think if his love was based on the fact he was identical to the original body and mind, but would always eventually come to the conclusion, these were his own thoughts and feelings. Other people's doubles were not treated like Carbon, after all, who wanted to be kind to the representation of their death? Doubles were treated as objects, a ticket of their life after death, only when they took the place of the original would a double become ‘real’.

The overthrowing of the system began, doubles began killing their originals. Death swept past every place, the slums was no exception, if your own double didn’t kill you someone else's would. But Carbon couldn’t bear to because he truly cared for his original, he did not want him to die. So he made the choice. After all it was ingrained in his very being, to take the original’s place. So he did. So he took his original’s place and became the original himself. His original begged him to stop, but Carbon paid no heed, he just said “What are you talking about, you're my double”. The next morning Carbon was taken away, taken away to his death and he knew no one would ever know. No one would ever find out he was the double and not the original because they were exactly identical, their mind, their body, their soul. He had the power, the power of stealing the original's identity, the power of an unidentifiable identity and he used it so well. Well maybe perhaps… he was the original after all.

(498/500)

[whim]

hey all I’ve extended the due date of this comp to January 5th!
Entries are looking great so far, I hope this gives everyone enough time to finish up!

[whim]

this comp is closed now !!
please be patient while I'm judging, I'm looking forward to reading all of your entries! <3