October Short Story of the Month Competition

[skullreken]

Okay people we have one competition over leaving 3 happy writers polishing
their shiny new medals and a lot more writers want to win some for
themselves. Well not to worry guys you're about to get your chance
because here comes the October SSOTM competition

With this being the month of Samhain and the festival of the dead I think it
is fitting for this months competition to be about horror. So I put it to you
guys, write me a 1000-2000 word Horror story dealing with at least one of
the following themes Hauntings, the Occult, Murder, or Mystery.

• All writing styles are acceptable.
• Works must be original no fan fics
• The scripts must be posted in this thread before the closing date
• Writers will be allowed to edit their scripts after posting them but not after the closing date.

The competition will close at midnight Greenwich Mean Time(0) on Wednesday the 11th of November
if you're unsure of time zones http://www.worldtimezone.com/
Good luck to all participants

[SuperSaiyanSSJ3]

Hey there sorry to bother you, was looking in to giving this a try, ,but had a few questions...

1. Can the story be wrote in any person, i.e first, second or third

2. do i need to paragraph it

3. does it need to be a certain language

4. is there any topic or material I cannot include

Any help would be great thanks :P

[skullreken]

To answer your questions

1. As stated in my first post all writing styles are acceptable. First person, third person, past, present and future tense along with more abstract methods are covered by this.
2. Paragraphing would be preferable as it will make your story easier to read, the easier it is to read the higher your chances are of winning.
3. Because the main language of this forum is English the story must be submitted in English if grammar or spelling is an issue I can arrange for someone to help you edit your work before you submit it
4. I believe in artistic freedom so I will allow most things up to a reasonable point, If you wish to include subjects such as sex in your story be tasteful, overly descriptive details or anything equating to a pornographic novel will be removed.

[SuperSaiyanSSJ3]

Ok thank you very much, you've been a great help and yea all that makes sense.....once im finished I'll post here :P

[inmyownworld1343]

well now this i can do :P thank you skully!! i shall edit this post with my story so dont delete it!! *hugs*

[RighteousRob]

its funny... as I read the last sentence of the first paragraph the x-files theme played in my head.. I may have to give this one a shot

[Yiew]

Ooh, my fave. Genre of Book (Crime / Thriller)

^______^

I must not let this down.

*Edit*
Know that nothing in this story is final. It is my first draught copy. I love this genre and want to do it justice. I was really excited to begin writting it right away and after 1 hour of thinking, I wrote it down and in no time, I was finished. Sad, but I enjoyed it and over the month will enjoy editing.

Good luck everyone.

Spoiler

I watch with complacency as she bleeds. The excitement runs through my body like a small child runs through a candy store. I can barely control my impulses as she struggles fruitlessly against her bindings. The blood she spills stains her body and I must go inside her again.
My erection throbs as my eroticism increases. The edge of the blade penetrates her right thigh creating symmetry on her pure porcelain skin. I relieve myself onto her as she lets out a small weep. How perfectly suitable for her, the mixtures of her blood and my ejaculate glisten. It’s finally time to commence the ritual. One deep slash across her throat and she bleeds her life away onto the sheets. How beautiful.

I leave something for her…

“Another female victim found in her own apartment with the consistent wounds of those before her, was found again last night…”

The news is already all over my accomplishment. I feel special that I am mentioned on TV all the time; they call me the Grudge, someone who has something against women. This is not true, how ever. I love women. I love their soft skin, their supple nipples, and their screams for mercy…
I stop my train of thought as my mind wanders to vivid images of helpless women, my tool ignites in a fire and I must take a cold shower to calm down. Once I have my head on straight I will think of my next move. Find my next sacrifice and lay my next step. You see, I do not kill these women for nothing – oh no. They serve for a much greater purpose and only I know what for. There is someone else that I want to meet, someone who must witness what I do and all its glory.

It is an unusually hot day today in spring. The days are getting warmer but today is one of those defiant days. I like these days. These days force women to sweat more and their natural body scents flow out of their body and when I smell the smell I…I…

I have found her already.

I am not a man who sticks out of the crowd. This is the way I like it. No one would give me a second glance, which is why this woman does not feel, threatened when I approach her, smile politely and then sit next to her at the bar. I coolly look at her and notice she looks at me with inquisitive eyes. I say hello, she says hello back. I say my name – well, the one she wants to hear – and she tells me hers. I know she will be spending the night with me.


My experience did not fail me. We are deeply kissing and fondling with clothing up the apartment stairs. I like to live on the top floor to view the world below me. The woman pants and gasps as I throw her against the door, her legs wrapped around me so tight my hands have no purpose until I start to reach for the door. We reach my bed and she puts her hands down my pants with such a look on her face, a look that instantly changes as she feels I have no erection over her body, just yet. She looks at me quizzically, I smile back and that’s when the handkerchief goes over her mouth. Her resistance is weak which is disappointing. From her stature she looked like such a woman who demanded power, but it looks like it was all a façade; something to cover up her real weaknesses. Pity.

It takes her longer than I liked to regain consciousness. She is now bound to my bed, each wrist and ankle is bound by duct tape so tight the ends of her extremities being to go purple. I am in control and that’s how I like it. The woman realizes what is happening and my enjoyment begins.
I lay next to her exposed naked body as she struggles to move free. I kiss up and down her neck and I can feel the repulsion inside of her, her body twitches at the touch of mine. I stop and ask her, “Don’t you love me?” and stick the knife in her left thigh. Tears begin to trickle out of her eyes, whether out of pain or disgust I do not care. I lavish the taste and stick my fingers in the newly opened wound.
It is warm, I can feel the blood ooze out as I move it in deeper and deeper, and I can feel the erectness in my pants that now must come off. Her eyes widen ever so more as I begin to do so. The struggling becomes more frantic, more panic stricken and I can’t control myself. I stick the same knife in her right thigh and my erect penis in the new left wound and feel so overjoyed that I loose control and release what I have to offer inside of her.


A thought occurred.

I release the gag from her mouth. She makes no noise as she has already given up. I grab a small glass and put it next to the freshest wound and force the blood to pour into it. I then splash it all over her face and naked body and rub mine against hers. My body is now ready for round two…

Victim after victim I leave little ‘Thank you’ notes next to the bodies. Where the bodies end up is entirely up to the events leading towards the act. An iconic grave if I take them to my place or their own beds if they invite me in. Personally I don’t like to do much cleaning up so I am not too keen if it is my place. Bodies tend to purge after a few days and the smell…Oh that heavenly smell…
The police are after me frantically. My notes left after me have become apart of me now. I see the poem in the paper…

Murder me

Murder with your love

Murder me with you lies

You commit murder when I look in your eyes
You tell me over and over you love me why can’t we just live our lives
Murder commits suicide
Kill or be killed
No choice but to murder
Love is murder in the making
When you tell a person you love them its murder in the 3rd degree with a guilty plea
25 years to life with no college degrees No chance you’ll ever be paroled
Murder
Murder Me

I quite like this poem. It fits what I believe to be me, but how the outside world sees me is probably a different story. Those fools, if only they knew what a rush it gave to take a life. To be a God.

. . .

A few weeks have passed and I have not found that special person yet. My plan should be realized by her now, why hasn’t she realized.

I am beginning to become frustrated with these, entre courses. I deserve the main meal.

I call her up.

“Its so good to see you” The first words to come out of her mouth. She invites me in with no hesitation, which sadden me. Could it be possible she does not know of my work? I must inform her later. This is a catch too big to end quickly. I must savour every moment, every second of her company.
As she talks I feel her blood running through those veins. What would be a normal throat on any other woman is the elegance of a swan on hers. I see liver spots on her slightly aged body, muscles deteriorating but the body of an angel. What’s on the inside is what drives me. What she will do will drive me.
I want to act like Ive never done before, so I excuse myself to the bathroom and dampen the cloth I have brought. I quietly sneak up behind her and gag her, waiting for the chloroform to take effect and it does so almost immediately.

The climax my climax, is here.

The woman lay in front of me still with her gown on. I want to relish the moment so I do everything slowly, seductively, gently.
I begin by removing her cotton top, exposing her bra. She flushes red at the sight of my widening eyes. Such beauty, this one must be savored. I slash her wrist ever so slightly and lick up the blood that trickles out. If not for the bindings I would poor it all over her body and eat it off her. I can see the beginning of tears in her eyes and I ask “Do you love me, do you love me yet?”
I then begin to take off her pants and the rest of her undergarments to expose a naked body. I climb on top of it feeling warm, but dissatisfied. I create small little cuts on her stomach and lay in the small puddle of blood being created. I am reaching a climax but I do not wish to finish yet.
I inject her helpless body with a liquid to make her blood hemotixic – Thinning of the blood – so more runs out.

I create my first signature wound on her body and remove the gag. “What are you doing to me? Please…” were the first helpless words that came out of her mouth.
“Don’t worry, I wont finish you like the others. You’re special, Mum”

Spoiler

The poem I used in the story was actually one I looked up and after a while stumbled across it. The poem is called 'Murder' by Tajeenah Ross. If ever anyone were to question me, I take no credit of her work. If you want to read more or know of the website I obtained it from, please visit http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/murder-31/

[Kaiser7]

hmm... this is intriguing. so where do you submit it? here?

[Nathaniel]

no pics for story base this time ?? ..xD
thnks in advance ;D

[Aura-chan]

^_^ yay another one ^_^ *writers blood is boiling*