[Bip]

Yagmur, you seem to like the fluffy Newtons. xD I'm not adopting, just popping in to say the Newton looks pretty. C:

[Yağmur]

Yagmur, you seem to like the fluffy Newtons. xD I'm not adopting, just popping in to say the Newton looks pretty. C:

Thanks, I just love the fluffy newtons X3

[Yağmur]

5 days left, just letting you all know since no one has even finished one piece.

[Rosiestar]

Thanks! This contest had gotten lost in all my posts... >///<

[Yağmur]

No one has finished? The end date has passed.

[PerfectWorld]

Username: Staz
Newton's name: Kati Lulubelle
Gender: Female
Art:
She is 'Kati.' Story told from human perspective.

"Why do you do this?"

The voice pulsated in her head and a faint sigh dripped out of the young woman's curvaceous mouth. A twisted smile shadowed her chin as she dipped her bloodied fingers into the frigid river water. For a few seconds, she ignored the sentence and focused on washing away the murder that stained her hands. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the sin swirl dark etchings in the tide.

Slowly standing and pressing her palms to her thighs, she shrugged. "I just like to." This conversation never changed. Sometimes the criminal would investigate with changing her responses, but his echoed like a dull recording. Yet somehow, she could never pry herself away from this tiny moment of comfort.

Sometimes if she would tilt and squint into the darkness that clogged the local trees she could see his phantom form, smudged by the moonlight that highlighted him from behind. She preformed the usual ritual this night and looked hard where he normally stood; and surely he stood there. His familiar, gentle smile curved his handsome mouth. She felt her breath catch and she looked hard at the ground. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart." He spoke slowly, dutifully, and a morose depression flickered through his gaze. It was amazing how accurate her memories could be.

"It's for vengeance."

Her husband's customary frown crossed his normally serene facade. She seemed somewhat awkward after admitting it, but she didn't take it back. The rusted longsword that she almost always used hung from her belt like a confession. She didn't need to say anything to admit to her husband that she had done something terribly wrong. It was obvious from her defensive stance to her almost cruel attitude. She had grown to be harsh in his absence.

He stepped towards her and her eyes instantly widened. He had never moved before. His footsteps were sluggish but entirely silent, reminding her the entire approach that he was not real. This was all a sadistic hallucination her mind played on her almost nightly.

He reached a hand towards her, his slender fingers stretching towards her cheek, and she closed her eyes, set on pretending. A bare minimal of pressure stroked her face. "I don't want you to kill for me." He replied earnestly, and she smiled. For once, it was a true smile.

"I have to...Tass." It was the first time she had ever called him by his name. It had never felt real enough before to do it. He responded with a rich, tingling laugh.

The killed detective stepped back from her with a faint wistful hope coming off of him. His vivid green eyes, untouched by the paleness that coated the rest of his body, was an honest window to his emotions underneath. He wanted her to pay attention this time. "I need you to stop."

They were climbing back into the normal route of conversation, and her heart ached for him to turn and do something different. To mix up what they had spoken over and over. She stared at the ground and fought to hold in the sobs. "Sweetheart..." when she didn't move at the pet name, he added in a slightly sharper tone, "Kati."

Her chin jerked up. He never said her true name. She hadn't been called that name in years; not since she began her rampage on the gang that had killed her husband. He looked down at his hands, fading from sight, and smiled. "They're calling me back, Kati. Will you come tomorrow?"

He was the one weakness to her crime spree, the one location she could always be counted on to, eventually, circulate back to. He had nearly gotten her caught three months ago, gotten her shot a year ago. This wasn't healthy. This wasn't sane.

She smiled and for once, there was no doubt. "I'll always come back."

[Rosiestar]

I would have finished but I didn't have internet access before the contest ended.

[Yağmur]

This was suppose to end on Friday but since no one finished their entries at that point I decided to leave it.

I am extending the end date for the last time now. 2 more days and that's it.
Oh, and stories will count as art.

[Rosiestar]

Thank you so much Yağmur! I can finish that art piece I was doing ^^

[Yağmur]

Time's up, the winner is Staz. Congrats, I loved the story and hope you take good care of Kati

Username: Staz
Newton's name: Kati Lulubelle
Gender: Female
Art:
She is 'Kati.' Story told from human perspective.

"Why do you do this?"

The voice pulsated in her head and a faint sigh dripped out of the young woman's curvaceous mouth. A twisted smile shadowed her chin as she dipped her bloodied fingers into the frigid river water. For a few seconds, she ignored the sentence and focused on washing away the murder that stained her hands. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the sin swirl dark etchings in the tide.

Slowly standing and pressing her palms to her thighs, she shrugged. "I just like to." This conversation never changed. Sometimes the criminal would investigate with changing her responses, but his echoed like a dull recording. Yet somehow, she could never pry herself away from this tiny moment of comfort.

Sometimes if she would tilt and squint into the darkness that clogged the local trees she could see his phantom form, smudged by the moonlight that highlighted him from behind. She preformed the usual ritual this night and looked hard where he normally stood; and surely he stood there. His familiar, gentle smile curved his handsome mouth. She felt her breath catch and she looked hard at the ground. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart." He spoke slowly, dutifully, and a morose depression flickered through his gaze. It was amazing how accurate her memories could be.

"It's for vengeance."

Her husband's customary frown crossed his normally serene facade. She seemed somewhat awkward after admitting it, but she didn't take it back. The rusted longsword that she almost always used hung from her belt like a confession. She didn't need to say anything to admit to her husband that she had done something terribly wrong. It was obvious from her defensive stance to her almost cruel attitude. She had grown to be harsh in his absence.

He stepped towards her and her eyes instantly widened. He had never moved before. His footsteps were sluggish but entirely silent, reminding her the entire approach that he was not real. This was all a sadistic hallucination her mind played on her almost nightly.

He reached a hand towards her, his slender fingers stretching towards her cheek, and she closed her eyes, set on pretending. A bare minimal of pressure stroked her face. "I don't want you to kill for me." He replied earnestly, and she smiled. For once, it was a true smile.

"I have to...Tass." It was the first time she had ever called him by his name. It had never felt real enough before to do it. He responded with a rich, tingling laugh.

The killed detective stepped back from her with a faint wistful hope coming off of him. His vivid green eyes, untouched by the paleness that coated the rest of his body, was an honest window to his emotions underneath. He wanted her to pay attention this time. "I need you to stop."

They were climbing back into the normal route of conversation, and her heart ached for him to turn and do something different. To mix up what they had spoken over and over. She stared at the ground and fought to hold in the sobs. "Sweetheart..." when she didn't move at the pet name, he added in a slightly sharper tone, "Kati."

Her chin jerked up. He never said her true name. She hadn't been called that name in years; not since she began her rampage on the gang that had killed her husband. He looked down at his hands, fading from sight, and smiled. "They're calling me back, Kati. Will you come tomorrow?"

He was the one weakness to her crime spree, the one location she could always be counted on to, eventually, circulate back to. He had nearly gotten her caught three months ago, gotten her shot a year ago. This wasn't healthy. This wasn't sane.

She smiled and for once, there was no doubt. "I'll always come back."