Wednesday, 2 February 2011

The Duel II Round Three

The handpicked crowd of spectators rowdily make their way through the underground passages and into the House Of Horror Dungeon. They sit and eagerly await the arrival of the Devilishly wicked House Of Horror Madam. A loud crash and bang, she suddenly appears in a puff of smoke and slowly makes her way through the crowd, taking her seat on the throne of bones.

“Bring on the contenders!” she calls, her voice demanding and pleasing to the crowd.

Clicking and ticking, the steel doors of two cages rise and the two contenders step forth into the fighting ring.

On the right, new challengers, Sylvester P. Gildersleeve, ready to step up and fight for his right to live. On the left, Lady Lych of Alethdin, her beauty and wisdom pouring from her body, head held high and ready to take the lead.

Both bow to the Madam and the crowd goes wild. Baying for blood each chant their favourite to win.

Two have arrived. Only one will leave with their life.

Who are you backing?

You can vote HERE

Let the duel begin!


Be Mine By Sylvester P. Gildersleeve

A busy night had finally brought Jimmy to Melissa Walters' house. It was just before dawn, but still dark outside. His rage propelled him to the front door, which he unlocked with the key he knew Melissa kept under the mat. Jimmy opened the door and stepped inside. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and Melissa's bedroom. Standing outside her door the events of the day replayed in his mind.

Valentine's Day in the high school cafeteria was a madhouse. Everyone was laughing and smiling, exchanging greeting cards. Everyone except Jimmy, that is. Jimmy sat at a table by himself, scowling as he watched the other kids having fun.

Jimmy pushed Melissa's bedroom door open. In the darkness he could just make out the outline of her shape under the covers. He crept toward her bed, checking the waistband of his jeans for the butcher knife he'd stolen from his parents' kitchen earlier in the evening.

Jimmy had been held back a couple of years after having trouble with Chemistry and Algebra, which of course prompted taunting from the younger kids in his classes. To add insult to injury, Jimmy had developed a horrible case of acne. It seemed he was called “retard” or “pizza face” more often than his given name.

Jimmy was a big kid, so when he placed the Tinkerbell throw pillow over Melissa's face and pressed down it wasn't difficult for him to control her squirming. Her arms and legs thrashed silently until she eventually stopped moving.

Not a single girl had offered him a Valentine's Day card. And those he'd given cards to giggled and threw them in the trash when they thought Jimmy wasn't looking. But he was looking. Jimmy made a mental note of each girl who threw out one of his cards.

Jimmy lifted the pillow and leaned forward, putting an ear to Melissa's mouth. She wasn't breathing. He ripped the girl's pajama top off and slipped the bloody knife out of his waistband.

Melissa was the last of the girls Jimmy saw throw his Valentine's Day card in the trash. That made an even dozen. He had been sure that at least one out of the girls would return his affection, or at least thank him for the card.

Jimmy pressed the tip of the knife to Melissa's chest and pushed down, slicing through her sternum. He used his hands to spread her ribcage, then the knife to carve out her heart. He placed the organ in a plastic baggie and slipped out of the house. He ran home, arriving just as the sun began to rise. Jimmy pulled a soggy cardboard box out from under his bed and opened it. Inside lay eleven human hearts. He opened the baggie and added Melissa's heart to the collection. He shed his blood-soaked clothes and climbed into bed, holding the box tight to his chest and smiling. Jimmy had won a few hearts this Valentine's Day, after all.


Romantic Traditions By Lady Lych of Alethdin

“There’s an old tradition where I come from.” He turned to the girl beside him on the bench. “Will you accept a traditional gift on this very special Valentines day?”

She smiled. “Of course.”

He handed her a box with a glittering ribbon around the thick red card.

She took it, weighing it in her hands. “It’s heavy.” Untying the gold ribbon carefully, she lifted the lid and took out the two carefully wrapped packages.

“Open the smallest one first.” His excitement was infectious and she laughed.

“Okay.” Ripping the paper from it, she snapped open a box. “Oh! It’s beautiful.”

He took the diamond ring out. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes! A thousand times yes.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed her briefly. “Open the other one now.”

The waiting as she unwrapped the parcel was unbearable. The silence stretched out.

“Well? Do you like them?” he asked.

“What are they?” she picked them up and weighed the two small leathery balls in her hand. “Why are they so heavy?”

“Do you remember Steven Hicks?” He watched as she fondled and examined them.

“That bastard? Of course I do, he bullied us in high school.”

“I’d been talking to my father about getting married and he reminded me of this tradition. So when Steven attacked me in Grey Alley last night, I took the opportunity to fulfil it.”

“Steven attacked you? Did you get hurt? Where is he?” she glanced around wildly.

“Sweetheart, don’t worry. I’m a lot stronger now and besides I carry a gun for work remember.” He slipped his arm around her.

“He’s dead.” she guessed and he nodded.

“I harvested those before he died though. That’s traditional too.”

She looked at the soft spheres in her hand. “They’re…”

“Yes, that’s right. This is a traditional betrothal gift in my tribe. The Balls of my most Hated Enemy.”