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Barnsalot

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    WCT - The Writing Competition Thread [Short Story Results]

    in Competitions

    Posted

    Okay. Any and all criticism is welcome once the competition is over. :)

    Night's Bygone Fantasy

    Alone I awoke from a deep, dark slumber

    My body, with chills, sweat cold.

    And, I peered at the clock and betook its number

    Only ten 'til one, the night yet to unfold.

    T'was a nightmare I'd dreamed

    Of the cruelest, vilest sort.

    Of ghouls and of goblins it teemed

    Of lives full of hope, cut short.

    "Only a dream," I chided myself,

    And crept to the pantry for comfort.

    And there I beheld, not a shelf, but an elf,

    My mind, I thought, began to distort.

    But, then he drew forward,

    Withdrew from his sash

    A sword,

    And beckoned me do nothing rash.

    I turned around then,

    And beheld with my eyes

    All throughout the kitchen

    A scene of surprise

    The ghouls and the goblins of bygone fantasy

    In attendance now,

    T'was plain to see,

    But how?

    The elf, he strode forward,

    And raised above his head

    The ancient, runic sword,

    The goblins soon to be dead.

    But before he could strike,

    The world shuddered grey

    And it seemed to me like,

    I was awaking to a brand-new day.

    WCT - The Writing Competition Thread [Short Story Results]

    in Competitions

    Posted

    Not a lot of spare time right now, but I thought I'd try to do at least something.

    A Soulless Proposition

    "A million?" The boy's eyes grew wide as saucers.

    "One million dollars," Ferris replied evenly.

    "But," the boy stuttered, "But, I don't understand. Why?

    "Why not?"

    "Because it doesn't make any sense! You'll pay me one-million dollars to have a car wreck? And then what? That just doesn't make any sense. It endangers my life, the lives of others, and it accomplishes nothing! There's nothing in it for you!"

    "Sure there is."

    "What?"

    "My own amusement."

    "Your own amusement?" The boy was taken aback. He didn't say anything for a minute. "That's sick," he finally breathed.

    Ferris only grinned as if he had expected such a response. "Yes, that's right. You help me with my sick amusement and I'll help you with yours," he said, and extended his bill-fold.

    The boy glanced to the side, at the green, rusting car, which was his. It was an '87 Toyota Camry, not worth a dime anymore, except that it was worth a million dollars.

    "I'll have the news on tomorrow around four o'clock," Ferris said, then turned and left.

    "Doug, you've hardly touched your food tonight. What's wrong? It's Thanksgiving dinner." She was leaning over the table, arguably too small for the family of five seated around it, and frowning at the boy's plate.

    "I guess I'm just not hungry tonight," Doug replied, and winced at the cliché he knew wouldn't be accepted as a very suitable response. He stuffed a potato wedge into his mouth, though, and began to chew it laboriously. That seemed to please his mother, and she sat back on her haunches and began commenting on the weather, or some such pointless subject. Doug couldn't hear a thing that was being said. His mind was elsewhere.

    When it happened, there was a collective gasp from the entire community. An eight car pile up, file miles north from connector three on I-75. Two dead-on-arrival, three critically injured, and another hospitalized for the shock of the accident, alone. Doug had been one of those critically injured. His kidney had ruptured with the initial impact of the crash and three of his ribs had broken with the successive impacts of the cars piling-up on the wreckage. He had been pried from the mashed-up pile of green, rusty metal which had once been his vehicle, and had been rushed to the hospital, incapacitated, by the paramedics.

    He woke to the slowly methodical, high-pitched beeping of the cardiogram, and rolled over onto his side. He twisted back with a wince of acute pain and gritted his teeth. The feeling was slowly returning to his body, but it was perhaps the most unwelcome visitor he would see all day. His injuries were confined to his abdomen, but for some hellish and mysterious purpose, it wasn't his abdomen which screamed at all, but his whole body, and his mind. They raved, "You fool! Look what you've done to yourself! Was this worth it? Was all this pain and trauma, these deaths that you've caused, these injuries, these funerals...! Were they all worth it!?"

    He grunted, and clenched his fist, half in pain, half in anger. Anger at what, he had no idea. Something crunched and crackled within it. His interest piqued, Doug tore the IV from his forearm and lifted his hand to his face. It was an effort, but when the blur of his vision cleared, the small slip of paper in his hand suddenly began to make sense. It read, "Pay to the order of Doug Johnson..."

    "Was it worth it? The deaths, the pain...?" The raving hadn't stopped.

    Doug smiled and let his arm fall back to the bedside. He laughed, ignoring the tearing pain it sent in ripples up and down his body. "Yes," he said, "yes, it was worth it..."

    FF7-Speed Limit Mix

    in General Discussion

    Posted

    If you're really into this idea, the best thing to do would be to try to learn Flash yourself and make it how you see fit. I know you said that you wouldn't have the skills, but NO ONE does on his or her first flash animation. You have an idea that you're passionate about, and that is the first and most necessary tool you will need to go anywhere with any type of creative endeavor. Even if it seems unlikely, you will have ideas after this one that you will feel just as strongly about. But, if you work on this idea now, by the time you get to those future ideas you will have the skills necessary to make them the way you want them.

    As an example, I spent five years working with RPG Maker before I ever made/finished something that I was proud of. Now I have three finished games. The work is long and frustrating, but if you truly have a passion about the ideas with which you're working, you will eventually be able to bring them to life.

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