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Short Story Competition March 2013!

 
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Tikanni Corazon
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 01, 2013 10:01 am    Post subject: Short Story Competition March 2013! Reply with quote



Hey all!

Time for the March Short Story Competition to begin! The theme for this month is Mothers Day. I'm not sure when Mothers Day is in countries besides the UK, but here it's in a couple of weeks, and I seized upon the idea when I was pondering what the theme should be this time around, along with a specific genre – Horror!

That's right folks, I want a Mothers Day horror story! It sounds like it might be a little restricting, but I'm interested in how diverse all of you can make it.

So, just to clarify, the theme for this competition is Mother's Day in the Horror genre. This is the first competition where I've restricted it to just the one genre, but I thought that it sounded like an interesting theme as a whole, so I rolled with it. Wink I have also upped the word limit this time around to 4500 words, which I hope will be easier to work with.

The prize will again be 1000 fables! 


The Rules 

1) This is a short story competition and therefore there is a word limit of 4500 words. Please keep within this margin. 
2) Minor swear words are okay, but please try to keep it to a minimum. There are younger people on this site, after all. I'm lifting this rule slightly just for this competition, but still, no going to far with it, okay.
3) You must include the single prompt stated below in order for your story to qualify. 
4) There must be an Mothers Day theme to the story, in the Horror genre. 
5) The closing date for entries will be March 16th. After that period, it's time to vote for your favourite entry. Voting will last until Midday March 29th. 
6) The competition is open to everyone.
7) All entries must be posted to me via PM, so that each entry is anonymous and the votes will not be swayed through friendship/dislike/etc. Should I discover (with proof) that anyone has attempted to override this rule by convincing people to vote/not vote for someone, there will be consequences. 


And finally, your prompt for this competition. This prompt must be included, or your story will not qualify. For this time around, because I'm restricting you to just the one genre, you have two prompts to choose from. The prompts are:

A spider crawling across a piece of paper

OR/AND

Green velvet

Yes, random, I know. Razz

As with the others, it has to be significant. It doesn't have to take over the story, it just needs to play a part and stand out, even if it's just mentioned in one paragraph.

And so the competition is now open! Any questions, feel free to ask!

Good luck to all who enter!

_________________
.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887




Last edited by Tikanni Corazon on Mon Mar 18, 2013 9:21 am; edited 1 time in total
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Tikanni Corazon
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PostPosted: Sun Mar 10, 2013 3:56 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Just bumping this, ladies and gents! Only 6 days left!
_________________
.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887


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Tikanni Corazon
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 11, 2013 6:01 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Warning! Warning! Language and adult themes!

Story One~Untitled

The lighting is never quite right, she thought to herself. If she turned on the desk lamp it would be pointed directly at her, and her pasty white skin was too reflective to allow it. But without it, the only source of light came from behind her, from the kitchen. That would never do, it created too many shadows in all the wrong places.

"Oh well," she said to herself, "lamp it is then."

She was new to the whole thing, having only done it once or twice, but it had proved profitable so far. Despite her lack of professional equipment, viewers seemed to come in flocks. It was mildly encouraging, considering the only tool she had was her webcam. Well . . . mostly. But perhaps that was why so many came, maybe it was to her advantage.It had worked so far, anyways.

She logged on.

* * *

"Good morning, Alice."

"Oh hey, Tom! How are you doing?"

"Good. You?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

It was the regular routine for Alice. Every morning the same few words said, although the recipient sometimes changed. But the exchange itself never did. In reality, neither party cared what the other's answer was. In fact, the worse offense a person could make in such an encouter would be to tell the truth. Such things were irrelevant in troublesome in the workplace. They caused more questions and wasted too much time. Nobody wanted the truth.

Nevertheless, the hallway meetings had to happen. Alice tried to keep her head down and not make eye contact with anyone. At the same time, it was pertinent to not make such actions obvious—being overly dodgy was considered weird and anti-social. It would certainly make the subject of many a conversation at the water cooler.

It was a subtle art, being inconspicuously inconspicous. But it was one that Alice had much practice in. She was never one hundred percent accurate though, and inevitably there would be at least one or two thoughtless conversations on the way in to work. Every morning she would cautiously hope to avoid detection, and every morning she would be let down. There was no such hope when it came to her desk though; its one advantage was that she would never be dissapointed when she sat in it. She knew exactly what would happen.

The monotony and meloncholy was unavoidable. Paper after paper, report after report, all for nothing. Her work didn't matter. She had realized it long ago, and it was oddly liberating. She wasn't sure what was worse, her doing nothing all day long or her bosses praising her for doing it.

"Oh well," she said. She was content on daydreaming the entire day. Besides, there was a particularly interesting spider crawling slowly across the stack of pappers on her desk. She rested her cheek on her hand and mechanically tapped a pen across her cheek. This is probably the most interesting thing that will happen to me today, she though to herself as it scurried past her keyboard.

Wham!

Alice nearly jumped out of her chair as a heavy, paper-filled folder was slammed onto her desk. "Got him!" He yelled and chuckled.

"Oh hi, Mr. Adams." Alice mustered together a cheerful voice, another talent of hers.

"Alice, Alice, Alice, " he toyed with her, "How is my favorite employee doing?"

"I'm fine thanks, how are you?" She ignored her his wandering eyes.

"Great, great. That was a big one, wasn't it?"

"Sure was! It had me in a bit of a trance, I guess."

"So it did, so it did." He paused to stare a bit longer. "Well, listen, could you give this a looksie and get it back to me by the end of the day?"

If only it were an actual question. "Absolutely, right away," she replied with a smile.

"You're my girl." Alice faked a blush as he turned and walked away.

Oh well, she thought to herself. I guess I will have to turn on the computer today afterall.

Email, and too many of them. Thank God for mass delete. She stretched out one final time and was about to get started when a chat box popped up on her screen.

Unknown: I know.

Who is this?

Unknown: And on the day before Mother's Day.


Shit, she thought to herself, today IS Mother's Day! I forgot to get her a gift.

What are you talking about?

Unknown: I was watching. I always watch.


Damn. How did this happen, she asked herself as realization hit. I only just started.

Who is this?

Unknown: What would your mother think?

Unknown: Let's ask her.


A link popped up on the screen. Alice clicked on it and quickly minimized it.

What are you going to do to her?

She was starting to get hot, and removed her sweater. She placed it on her lap.

Unknown: I'm going to fuck her, and then kill her.

Alice bit her lip to stop her sounds from drawing attention. She calmed herself down, and tried to relax a little. She was still breathing heavily, but she was confident that nobody would notice. She typed slower this time, as it was more difficult to push the keys with only one hand.


Can I watch?

_________________
.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887


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Tikanni Corazon
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PostPosted: Wed Mar 13, 2013 10:28 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Warning! Warning! Language and adult themes!

Story Two~The Butcher

With one final pull she managed to saw entirely through the bone, easily removing the arm from the shoulder, the remaining sinews of flesh snapping slightly as they were torn apart. When the arm was completely detached, she threw it into the grinder. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, trying to keep the blood on her fingers from smearing on her face – a pointless gesture, really, as she was almost entirely covered with the red sticky liquid otherwise. Sighing deeply she sat back on her feet.

“Finally done,” she said to herself, releasing her grip from the serrated cleaver and flexing her stiffened fingers.

As she brought the feeling back into her hand she thought of home. It was late, but she knew her daughter, Addison, would still be on the couch waiting for her to return. She was probably asleep, feet dangling over the carpet, hair still tied up with the green velvet ribbon she had gotten for her birthday last year. Smiling, she thought of tomorrow. It was Mother’s Day, and they would be spending the day, upon Addison’s insistence, in the park with a picnic lunch, feeding the ducks and attempting to fly a kite.

She jumped slightly as her phone rang, the generic tone echoing around the cavernous room, interrupting her peaceful thoughts. Grumbling, she rose from her position on the floor and, careful not to slip in the pools of blood, made her way to the table sitting against the far wall and picked up her cell.

“This is the Butcher.”

“Good evening, Bethany.”

She frowned and rolled her eyes.

“What do you want, Roger? I swear to God, if you send another stiff my way, I’m gonna-“

“No, no, no,” he interrupted. “You misunderstand. I just called to see how you were doing.”

“I’m tired, my arms are sore, and I’ve got a headache from a certain little shit calling me at such an ungodly hour,” she spat into the receiver. “Now, what do you really want, Roger?”

“As charming as ever, I see.”

She snorted into the phone in reply.

“Fine,” he huffed dramatically. “Since you’re so eager…the boss has another job for you.”

“What are you guys on a damn killing spree or somethin’? Can’t it wait ‘til tomorrow? I just told you I was tired. I need to get some sleep dammit.”

“He insists that you do it tonight.”

“He insists, does he? Well, he better as hell be ready to pay out his ass.”

“He said that you would be paid three times your normal stipend, plus a bonus of fifty-thousand up front for the inconvenience.”

She ran the math in her head. That would be enough to pay rent for the next twenty years, not to mention Addison’s college tuition three times over.

“Bethany?”

“Give me an hour to clean up what I’ve got, then you can bring the fish,” she sighed wearily.

“Excellent. See you in an hour then.”

She heard a short cackle before the line went dead. She snapped her phone shut, using all her willpower not to pitch it at the wall. What she wouldn’t give to chop him up someday.

____________________________________


“What the hell is this?”

“This is the job,” Roger said smiling. She stared into his beady eyes in disbelief then looked to the body. The man’s head was covered and he was crumpled on the floor in a heap, but he was still clearly breathing.

“It was never in the deal that I had to kill a person. They’re supposed to come to me already dead, not kickin’ like the day they were born.”

“Consider this a sign of your loyalty and dedication,” he said pulling the cover off of the man’s head.

Bethany’s eyebrows furrowed. This was no politician, no law enforcer. It wasn’t a member of the competition or someone who owed a debt. It was…

“Jason?!” she shouted, running over and kneeling down next to him, patting him on the side of the cheek. His head rolled to the side and he groaned. His eyes opened and he blinked a few times to focus them. She heard her name mumbled questioningly behind the duct tape over his mouth.

“The boss thinks you’ve been distracted lately. And he says this is the source.”

“You’ve got to be kiddin’ me! We’ve barely been dating for two months!”

Roger shrugged. “I was told to round him up and that you’re the one that needs to whack him.”

“That’s bullshit! I’m not doin’ it!”

“If you refused he said I should remind you that you’re not in this business for yourself,” he reached into his pocket and slowly pulled out a green velvet ribbon. “Don’t make us do anything we’ll regret, Bethany.”

She gasped. Addison.

Roger bent down and ripped the duct tape off of Jason’s mouth. The man yelped in pain.

“Let’s get this over with shall we?” He took a step back and gestured towards the man on the floor.

She gripped the cleaver tightly in her hand. Gently she smoothed some of his hair out of his face. His eyes widened when he realized what she was going to do.

“Wait, Bethany! What the hell is going on? Is this some sort of joke?” he asked frantically, struggling against the bonds around his hands and legs.

“No, it’s not a joke,” she said, raising the cleaver. She could feel herself shaking and she smiled slightly, trying to fight back her tears. “But it’s kinda funny.”

She brought the cleaver down on his neck. His squirming and her own unsteady hand caused her to miss her mark. She flinched as he began to gurgle, drowning in his own blood. She swung again, this time keeping the cleaver in his neck and pressing down until his spine cracked and he stopped twitching.

“Shit…” she said under her breath as a few drops managed to escape her eyes. She had liked him. And he had gotten along well with Addison, too. She reached up and gently closed his still open eyes with her fingertips. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Well done,” Roger said, clapping. “That wasn’t nearly as agonizing as I’d hoped it would be.”

She glared up at him and quickly looked away, disgusted by the smirk on his face. Disgusted with herself. She stood, removing the cleaver from Jason’s neck, and walked over to Roger, sticking out her free hand.

“Give me the money and get the hell out.”

Still wearing the smirk, Roger reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope, placing it into her open palm. She frowned at it – it was far too light and thin to contain fifty-thousand dollars. She flipped open the envelope, saw the corner of a picture and slowly pulled it out.

Her eyes widened in shock and her breath caught in her throat. It was a picture of Addison, her head twisted at an unnatural angle. She was covered in blood and completely naked. It was a full-body picture and Bethany’s eyes slowly drifted to the bottom of the photo.

She doubled over and vomited.

“You sick bastard!” she choked as she wiped the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Don’t worry,” Roger said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Bethany’s shoulder. “She was a very brave girl. Didn’t scream once.”

She coughed and held her stomach as another wave of vomit made its way up her throat.

“Oh and she wanted me to tell you,” he paused and cleared his throat, speaking next in a high pitched voice. “Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy.”

Something inside her snapped. She crumpled the picture in her hand and gripped the cleaver in her other until her knuckles turned white. She began to tremble and her vision was becoming blurry, from tears or rage she couldn’t tell. Then, with an animalistic scream, she swung the cleaver at Roger’s head.

____________________________________


A loud buzzing brought her back to herself. She focused her eyes and it occurred to her that she had been stabbing the same spot for a while, the blade beginning to chip the cement beneath the blood.

The buzzing sounded again and she realized it was coming from one of the pockets of Roger’s pants. She set the cleaver down in the pulp that used to be Roger’s head and flipped his body over, fumbling in his back pocket until she was able to grab the phone. She pulled it out and flipped it open.

“Roger,” said a gruff, wheezing voice. It was the boss. “How did it go?”

She didn’t speak. The silence on the other end of the phone lasted only a few moments before he spoke again.

“Roger, are you there?”

“This is the Butcher,” she said. Her voice was raspy from screaming.

“…Bethany?”

She stayed quiet again. She could hear him choking on his own panic.

“B-Bethany,” he finally sputtered out, “where is Rog-“

“He’s dead. I killed him. I killed him dead.” She found this last part ironic and a bark of harsh laughter came from her mouth. She continued, deranged giggling punctuating her words as she spoke, “I’m gonna cut him up…and then I’m comin’ to cut you.”

There was a sharp click and the line went dead. She dropped the phone onto the floor and, looking down, spied the green velvet ribbon still gripped in Roger’s hand. Shaking she removed it from his grip and held it in her own.

A painful mixture of strangled sobs and maniacal laughter bounced around the room, creating a deafening roar. She pressed the green velvet against her forehead, her bloodied hands staining the ribbon red.

_________________
.... there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham....
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell, 1887


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Tikanni Corazon
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918 Strata-gems

PostPosted: Fri Mar 15, 2013 5:58 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Warning! Warning! Language and adult themes!


Story Three ~ Eddie's Perfect Present

Henry was awoken by the sound of an alarm clock. The world still seemed fuzzy as his eyes flickered open. Directly in front of his eyes sat the object behind the infernal racket. The image was slightly blurry but after blinking a couple times, he could make out the time that it read. 12:01.The room sat in complete darkness, so he could only assume that it was just after midnight. There was a slight crack in his arm as he moved it to shut off the alarm. For a while, he just laid there waiting for the rest of his body to catch up with his eyes and arm. There was a slight drool puddle under him and he could feel it on his chin. As the clock in front of him hit 12:15, he started to push himself up off of the bed.

His body became a symphony of cracks and aches as he sat up and finally stood. His head was still cloudy and he had no idea how he had ended up in bed. As his eyes looked to the alarm clock again, a small thought found its way through the haze. The alarm clock wasn't his. He knew it wasn't. The sound it made, its position in the room. It wasn't his. That small realization led to another larger one. It wasn't his clock. Then this wasn't his room. Staggering to the wall, he blindly fumbled for a light switch. He found one and flicked it on.

He looked around the room in a haste, desperate to figure out where he was. After a couple more minutes, another bit of fog lifted. This was his mother's house. It was different than the last time he had set foot here but it was definitely it. He reached up to run his hands through his copper colored hair but instead felt nothing but stubble.

Staggering out of the bedroom, Henry felt his way down the hall to the bathroom. As he turned in and flicked on the light, he was met by the first major sign of trouble. The room was in a complete state of disarray. The towel rack had been ripped from the wall. The shower curtain was missing. It looked like the contents of the medicine cabinet had been thrown about. Something was wrong. His mother was known in town for being notoriously tidy, especially since her husband passed away a couple years ago. Stepping in amongst the mess, he cast a glance in the mirror.

There was a spider web of cracks stemming from the center of it. There was some blood and hair in the center of it. Blonde. Just like his mother. Fear was starting to build within him. Something was very wrong. It was starting to play out like a horror flick. Looking away from the cracked glass, he saw something very surprising in the mirror.

It was his reflection but at the same time it wasn't. He no longer had a head full of copper locks. His entire head had been shaved. There was a fresh cut above his nose and dark circles under his eyes. He was dressed in a black button up T-shirt. One he didn't recognize. He took a step back and raced through the house, turning on every light he found.

In the living room, a steel folding chair was set up facing the television, beside it sat a couple water bottles. It looked like the ones that his mother had stored in her shed for any time she had a big event or gathering, which wasn't often. This was definitely something out of a horror story. A few feet past the chair, he noticed that his mothers green velvet curtains were missing. His eyes scanned the area for a moment, settling on the electronic clock that hung on the wall. His mother loved it because it not only told the time but it also stated the date as well. It was 12:25 AM. Monday. As he read the full date, a random thought occurred. It was Mother's Day. His mother was missing on Mother's Day.

But, wait.

It was Monday. The last memory he had was from Friday at Midnight, right before...

A nasty thought hit him.

Looking back at the chair, he felt himself drawn to it. He allowed his feet to lead him over and then sit down. The rest of his actions seemed to be powered by some invisible being. He reached down under the chair and grabbed the TV remote. He turned on the TV and then pushed the play button as soon as a picture appeared.

The picture on the screen was of himself, sitting in the exact same chair he was now. Blood covering his face. His face was already cut and his head was already shaved. Even though the haircut seemed to be fresher on the video. The man on the screen smiled and let out a little chuckle.

“Heya, Henry, by now I bet you're confused and worried about what happened in that time you don't remember. That's ok. After all, that shit that Stephenson gave you was definitely potent. I mean, shit. If I didn't know better, I would have thought it was a murder attempt.”

A small burst of memory came bursting into Henry's skull. He had fought with his mom. Argued about whether a life without his father was worth living. He said yes and she disagreed. In anger, he visited a friend who offered him an experimental new designer drug. He called it The Poole because it made you feel cool and relaxed. He added an E cause he thought it looked cool. It was guaranteed to make you feel like a whole new person.

Henry had just taken it for about a month. On Friday, he had tried calling but he and his mother fought again. Same problem. She was contemplating ending it. He took some more and then...blackness.

“Guaranteed to make you feel like a new person,” the screen said. “It worked. Because you took it and I showed up. Name's Eddie. Now, I've done you a big favor, buddy. Well, us. Done us a favor. I worked tirelessly over the weekend to get your mom the best Mother's Day present I could possibly find. Trust me, once you figure out where she's waiting, it will be deliciously epic. You may want to get hydrated first. That drug took a lot out of us.”

Eddie rose from his chair and looked over his shoulder. “Oh, and in case you were wondering, I took the curtains. You'll see why, don't worry. Hey maybe if you take a peek out, you'll get to see Harley doing some of her nude yoga.” He let out a chuckle and then the screen went black. Henry just stared. It was him. The drug had made him go insane and do something horrible. But what? Where would he have taken her? His eyes moved to the window. And why would he have needed the curtains? As he tried to forcefully remove the mist in his mind a sharp pain overtook him. With a deep breath, he knelt down and grabbed a bottle. Even though every part of him said to not drink anything that “Eddie” said to, he didn't listen.

As he drank, he thought back to when he had first laid eyes on those curtains. They were a gift from his father. While to most, curtains would not be a good present, they were the same ones that hung in her house as a child. Henry's father had managed to find the house while it was being sold off. He made a deal with the current owners that he just wanted the curtains. Five minutes later he had them.

Henry polished off one of the bottles and then started on the other as he walked to the window where the green velvet had once hung. The image of the cul-de-sac his mother live on was quite eerie at this hour, under the glow of the streetlamps. The only other source of light came from the next door neighbor's place. From this window, he could peer straight into their living room.

His mother had always hated that. Her neighbor was a snoop and a grade-a gossip. Henry's mom had always called her Harley the Harlot. He never minded her. As he looked into the light living room, the hairs on the back of his neck rose up. Something was wrong over there. He knew it. He didn't know how but he just knew that if he went over there right now that whatever he found wouldn't be good news. More mist faded and a brilliant light bulb lit up in his dome.

Dropping the water bottle on the ground, he raced to the front door. He had to know if he had done something. If this dark version of himself, Eddie, had done anything to her. With a speed, he didn't know he was capable of he ran of and practically knocked the door off its hinges as he raced in.

No.

The living room was trashed. All of Harley's pictures had been knocked off the shelves. Some blood sat on the wall and there was a large hole in the dry wall.

Eddie had been here.

Quickly backing out, his mind tried to process everything that was happening. Tried to put together where his mother was and why he had done this. After all, it was so unlike him. He had been the perfect son. Always doing what his mother asked of him. He had gone to the school she wanted, was studying to become a doctor like she wanted. After his father had died he had becoming especially attentive to her. So why would he do this, even under the influence of drugs?

Not wanting to waste any time in trying to find her, he walked to the house, closed the door and made his way to the garage that sat attached. Upon entering and flicking on the light, his eyes landed on yet another surprise.

A big black pick-up truck sat where his mother's car had once been. Even without inspecting it, he knew he it belonged to and he knew just how busy he, or rather Eddie had been in the couple of days he knew longer remembered. The truck belonged to a wannabe cowboy, whom he had caught his previous girlfriend fucking in the shower. They had both left and hopped into that same truck and sped away. He had hoped to never see it again. Brain cells began to spark and he had a creeping suspicion what was happening.

His mother had hated Harley and she was gone. She had loathed how his girlfriend had fooled around and ran off with someone else. Whatever had happened was the gift Eddie had mentioned. He was cleaning house. Moving to the truck, Henry opened the door and saw that the keys were still inside.

Again, his body took control and he strolled to the garage door opener and pushed the button before moving back to the truck and moving into the driver's seat. He figured that this must be Eddie trying to guide him to whatever he was supposed to know or to find. After all, it was his surprise and he was there, hidden in the mist of Henry's mind. He had already guided him to the video and discovering Harley's disappearance. Whatever he had done or had planned, he wanted Henry to find it. Placing the truck into reverse, he backed out of the garage and sped off into the night.

For a while, he just drove in silence. His thoughts bounced around in his skull as a billion different memories played. He remembered watching his father die slowly and his mother whither on the inside as a side effect. The love of his life ran off with a cowboy who had never set foot outside Signet City. Watching his neighbor come home with many of her different gentlemen friends.

After about an hour, he couldn't stand the sound of his own thoughts anymore. He reached down and turned on the stereo. Loud, heavy metal music blared from the speakers. Eddie's taste in music certainly was different as well. He turned it off and returned to his own thoughts. The haze that he had felt since he woke up still hadn't lifted but he knew he had to get past it and fast.

He played through Eddie's message again in his mind before reaching down and pushing the eject button on the radio just to see if Eddie had been nice enough to record a CD as well. He didn't. Apparently, he was supposed to have all the information that he needed. Over and over again, Eddie's words echoed in his skull. The fact that it was his voice troubled him.

Hurry up, Henry. Momma's waiting, a voice said, interrupting his thoughts. Not just any voice. It was his. But at the same time it wasn't. It held a sick amusement. A darkness that shouldn't be there. Eddie's voice. But it couldn't be. Eddie was in him and he hadn't said anything. Did he?

He looked up and glanced in the rear view mirror. He was smiling. Or rather Eddie was. Yet, he didn't feel it. His eyes jerked back to the road, just in time to avoid crashing onto the curb. His heart was racing. Eddie was starting to peak out again. The thought of that scared him. He needed to save his mother. And anyone else that Eddie has taken, if they were still alive.

Think of your mommy. All alone, just like after good ol' Daddy passed. She's just waiting on her White Knight to ride in and save the day. Just like always.

This time the voice seemed to emanate from within his own skull. Eddie was toying with him. Peeking out from the shadows in his mind. Taunting him. Teasing him with the prospect of information where none existed. It was vile. It was...

“What have you done?” Henry asked aloud.

What you wanted. To get your mom the best present you could. To be the attentive son. Seeing to whatever she desired. Like the good son.

“You're not her son and I'm sure kidnapping wasn't on her wish list.”

Oh, I am her son. Technically, since I inhabit your body, that makes me you. Just the fun side. Willing to do whatever is necessary to make your life, our life, as pleasant as possible.

“And how would you know what that is. You're just a psychotic delusion brought on by whatever it was that Stephenson gave me.”

No. Sorry, Henry. I'm far more than a delusion. I'm your inner demon brought to life. I'm that primal side that you have always repressed. Every hint of rebellion you've ever held back. I'm that imaginary friend your mommy took you to a shrink for when you were six. The Poole just brought me to the surface. It destroyed the barriers between you and me. The only thing it didn't do was make us one.

“No. No. I just had a psychotic break because of a drug binge.”

We'll see, won't we, sport.

Eddie chuckled and the mist in Henry's mind started to blow away. As it did, a thought hit him like a ton of shit. He knew where she was. Where they all were.

His father had a cabin in the woods about fifteen miles outside of Signet City. Stepping on the gas, he couldn't believe he hadn't put it together right away. Everything Eddie had done was for her. It was where his father had proposed to her. Where he had found her in a drunken stupor after his father had passed away. It had to be it. Everything came back to her.

He sped through town like a maniac and out into the city limits while Eddie laughed inside his skull. The trip lasted about half the time it usually did and as he pulled up, he leaped out of the truck and slammed through the door of the cabin. It actually did fly off of its hinges.

Henry's mother was sitting in a chair on the far. She appeared to be duct taped to it. Her head was drooped down. He ran over to her and lifted her head up.

“Mom, I'm here, I'm here,” he said. She lifted her head up and jerked away as her eyes fluttered open. Of course, he was the bad guy here. Eddie may have done it but it did it wearing Henry's face. She tried to back up but couldn't. Henry took a step back and lifted up his hands in surrender.

“Look its over,” he said. “I don't know what happened but its over now.”

“Don't lie to the poor woman, kiddo,” Eddie's voice said, pulling itself from Henry's lips. 'We both know that its just time for the surprise.

“No,” Henry snapped. “Whatever you have planned its not...happening.”

In the blink of an eye, the room was filled with the light from a few well placed oil lamps. The truck outside was off and the door was fixed. He was standing in the doorway from the kitchen to the living area, as his mother struggled against her restraints. Sitting opposite her were three objects. Two of them were concealed by the green velvet curtains that had once hung in his mothers home. The other was under the white shower curtain that had also resided there. With slight hesitation, he walked over and pulled the coverings from each one.

Under their coverings were the bound and gagged forms of Harley, his ex-girlfriend Rebecca and her new boyfriend Tex, or Thad if you knew him before his cowboy rebirth. They were each unconscious or appeared to be. After another blink, he found himself standing behind them, a knife clutched in his hand.

Eddie was starting to have more control. His mother was staring at him in terror and he didn't blame her. He was doing all of this and didn't realize it. He didn't know how Eddie was able to do it but he was. A small chuckle from Eddie and the rest of the mist vanished in his mind. The water bottles. There must have been some of The Poole in there. Enough to bring him out but not enough to grant him total control.

Yet.

“What do you want, you son-of-a-bitch?” Henry asked.

“Why, to give your mother a gift. Just like I said. Together you and I are going to dispose of three biggest obstacles in her happiness. After all, you just want your mother to be happy, don't you?”

“Yes but...”

“Come on, I'll even do the first one for you.”

Henry tried to keep his eyes open but he couldn't. He blinked and when his eyes opened, Harley's head was tilted back, her throat was slashed open. The knife in his hand was dripping with blood. He stared over at his Mother and as far as he knew was showing an expression of remorse. Then again, Eddie could be in control with his sadistic smile.

“Now number two, Rebecca, I know you can do this one,” Eddie's voice said.

“No, I can't,” Henry said.

“Yes you can. I know it. She broke your heart. She fucked this limp dick motherfucker beside her with no consideration of you. Then she had the gall to blame you for the decline of your relationship. She is a miserable little wench who deserves this blade. Do it.”

Henry took a step over behind the redhead who was seated screaming in her seat. Henry paused. He knew that if he didn't do it, Eddie would. Eddie had control. Henry just wanted to get his mom out of there safely and if obeying Eddie would do that then he was willing to. It wasn't as if he hadn't fantasized about it. Every jilted lover had dreams of slaying their exes. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back so that he was staring into her eyes.

“Sorry,” he said before bringing the blade down into her forehead. He withdrew the blade slowly and watching as blood poured from the wound.

“Right in the face,” Eddie laughed. “Now number three. Thadeus Minimus. The guy who boinked your woman and stole her away. Didn't he even sock you in the jaw when you caught them together. Called you weak. A pansy. Said you were undeserving. You two spent high school together and even then he was nothing but brutal to you. You know you want to do this.”

Henry marched around him so that he was standing in front of him. The faux cowboy stared up with tears in his eyes. He mumbled something against the cloth over his mouth. It went unheard and Henry liked it like that. Nothing he had ever said was useful or intelligent.

“Who's the big man now,” Eddie's voice said. Though for once Henry became confused, because that was the thought that ran through his mind. Was it really Eddie's voice now? Or was he becoming him?

Henry shoved the thought away as he plunged the knife forward into the cowboys throat. Releasing the blade, he looked to the ground. Remorse was starting to eat away at him. He couldn't believe that he had just killed two people. No. Three. Eddie may have been in control but he had been the one clutching the knife.

“Is that it?”

“No,” Eddie said, “The best part is next. Your mother's final gift. The chance to be with your father once again.”

“You mean we're going to kill her?”

“No. That's all you. That argument you had last month. That's the reason I'm here. She was right. She needs to be with him.”

“No. No. That's not the way.”

“Of course it is. Subconsciously you know its the right thing to do. I know because I know this. Everything I do is in our best interests. Including this.”

Henry blinked and as his eyes opened, he was standing in front of his mother, knife in hand. She stared up at him and screamed something against her the cloth that was gagging her. Reaching out, he gently brushed some of her hair out of her face, staring down into her frightened blue eyes. He couldn't believe it but he was actually agreeing with Eddie. The last thing he remembered was her saying she wanted this. She was going to do it herself. He was doing her a favor.

Leaning down, he kissed her forehead.

“Happy Mother's Day, mom,” he said, before plunging the blade up into her stomach. Pulling it back, he plunged it up once more into her chest and stayed right next to her as she let out her last breath.

Deep down inside, he could hear and feel Eddie laughing.

Good job, sport. Don't worry about clean-up. I've got this.

Henry blinked and next thing he knew, he was standing outside and the cabin in front of him was burning. He let out a sigh and felt himself smiling, just as Eddie had.

“And with that, mother, my gift to you is complete. May you enjoy it forever.”

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Tikanni Corazon
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 15, 2013 3:07 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

If there are any last minute stories that anyone would like to get in, it's best to do so now, tomorrow being the closing date! Smile
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 18, 2013 9:22 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

The poll is up. A little later than planned due to my crap memory, so I apologise for that, but better late than never. Wink

So, without further ado, vote for your winner! Good luck to all entries! I very much enjoyed all three stories! Smile

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PostPosted: Mon Mar 25, 2013 3:06 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Okay, peoples, there's 4 days left to vote! Get reading and give your opinion, if you please. Wink
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PostPosted: Fri Mar 29, 2013 3:21 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The Competition is now over and our winner is Biz! Congrats, Biz! Your winnings will be with you as soon as I've worked out how to give them to you, lol!

Commiserations to our runners up Seraphi and HEH. Both your stories were awesome too, and I'd have had trouble choosing were it down to me. Smile

Aprils competition will be up over the next few days, so keep your eyes peeled! Wink

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PostPosted: Fri Mar 29, 2013 5:42 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Congrats, Biz!
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PostPosted: Sat Mar 30, 2013 12:06 am    Post subject: Post Reply with quote

*Grin* I knew you could make something amazing out of it Biz-kun. Well done.
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 05, 2013 1:26 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Just a note to say that your 1000 fables prize for winning this competition has now been sent to your account, Biz. Congrats again! Smile
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Who will be your winner?
Story One~Untitled 
0%
 0%  [ 0 ]
Story Two~The Butcher 
0%
 0%  [ 0 ]
Story Three ~ Eddie's Perfect Present 
100%
 100%  [ 3 ]
Total Votes : 3
Who Voted: PopeAlessandrosXVIII, sagittaeri, Seraphi

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