Second Annual .Org Writing Contest

[BobTheTerrible]

Well, here's my go. Don't expect it to make much sense... I'm hoping to draw some laughs rather than awards.


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All of the sudden, the guards grew silent, their faces mixed in equal measures of surprise and alarm. The conference members threw alarmed glances at the guards, who slightly nodded, confirming the members’ fears. I desperately looked around, trying to find the cause of the calamity. I whirled about suddenly for no apparent reason, and saw something I had never seen before, the sight of it filling my simple brain with wonder.

“Hey guys!! I found Waldo!” To my dismay nobody seemed fazed by my profound revelation. Even Waldo looked offended. I looked up for a second, and then he was gone. “Damn you and your chipmunk games Waldo… I’ll find you yet…” I muttered.

“Silence!” Mr. Q. Gordon boomed like a pregnant cow in labor. “Do you hear anything?” he asked desperately, his eyes wide with fear. Nobody knew his first name, but with the initial Q, nobody wanted to know. He was not a man to become friendly with. He was a big man, the type of man you wouldn’t want to share a prison cell with.

“No!” whispered Waldo dramatically. Hey, how’d you get back here? I wondered, but by the time I turned my head to try and find him, he was gone. Damn.

“Nothing?”

Everybody listened, and judging by the looks, the general consensus seemed to be that nothing was heard. I was still confused, but a sideways glance at Seifer, the only other guy I knew here, confirmed that I should remain silent.

Hmmm-, I thought musingly, when my thoughts were interrupted by Gordon.
“We took the necessary security procedures,” Gordon’s voice was barely a whisper. “Even so, they tracked us here… this is worse than I expected…”

Hmmmm, I mused thoughtfully, when my thoughts were again interrupted. I began to angrily wonder who was writing the damn story, and why I could never get to thinking anything worthwhile, when suddenly my thoughts of not being able to think were interrupted.

A noise rang out into the silence. A noise so silent, that it only served to make the silence more silent. I was confused over this concept for a good few seconds, when it all made sense. However, this won’t make any sense to you until I stop leaving you in suspense and tell you what I saw.

A blur of black and white burst silently into the room. I looked up, and quickly recognized it by the characteristic red markings on its cheeks.

“Mimes!” I yelled out, horror stricken. I had no idea things were this serious. The creature was followed by another, then another, and yet another. More kept coming.

It was hideous. The mimes silently built up an invisible wall before we could utilize the few anti-mime weapons we possessed. Curses! And all the worse for me, I was the odd one who had decided back in college that a “Defense against the Common Mime” course would never have practical applications. Go figure.

Seifer had grabbed a pistol and was firing rounds off at the mimes, but to no effect. The shots merely ricocheted off the invisible wall. There was no time for thought. Everyone in the room began trying to mime weapons of their own, but to little use. Fights erupted around the room between the mimes and the conference members.

Seifer mimed a chainsaw, and a pretty good one at that, but the mimes were too used to this old trick. One mime, in an epic struggle, managed to disarm Seifer and, in the same fluid motion, mime a piece of rope, which he used to tie Seifer to a pillar. The other members hadn’t fared very well. Most were trapped in mime-made invisble boxes on the ground, trying viciously to claw their way out. The mimes’ only response to this was silent laughter.

I was the only one left. The mimes had me cornered, evil grins and intimidating eyes pointed my way. I quickly mimed a twig, a paper clip, and a porcupine. None of these seemed to help. The struggles of the other staff members ceased and suspense music began to play as the mimes slowly advanced towards me. One mime angrily flashed sign language to another. The other dejectedly turned off the suspense music, which had the adverse effect of making things more suspenseful. I set the porcupine free.

I suddenly remembered one last thing… I made a grab for my briefcase, fumbled around in one of the side pockets, and pulled out an ancient cassette player. I popped a blank tape in. The nearest mime grew wide-eyed and made a lunge for me. I pumped the volume up to full, and moments before the mime reached me, pressed the play button.

The effect was amazing, to say the least. Several mimes keeled over, but they were just miming it. The rest of the mimes covered their ears. In a quick flash of sign language, the one who seemed to be the alpha mime motioned their exit. The mimes hastily beat a retreat.

The mimes’ invisible boxes began to disintegrate, and the conference members broke free, one by one. Seifer let out a long breath as the invisible ropes around him vanished. A quick look around the room confirmed our worst fears. They had taken Gordon.

“Government mimes,” Seifer breathed. I raised a questioning eyebrow. This was a conference called by the government. Why would the government’s own mimes attack? “Or rather, they used to be. Remember that series of experiments and alterations the CIA did on mimes a few years back? They broke free, and were never heard from again.”

“Until now.” I had remembered reading of the government’s experiments to create the so-called “Mind Mimes” in my copy of Anarchist Monthly a few years back. The CIA had gone ahead and experimented on them before they were fully tamed. Big mistake. They had broken free and caused havoc, before mysteriously disappearing.

“Well. We may have won this battle…”

[The Stranger]

Divine Blessings

“It’s my duty as the strong to oppose any who threaten the weak
It’s my honor to keep safe Mirrodins secrets, not to use them
My destiny is to save others, so theirs can be fulfilled
My shield of light will admit no shadow
I hereby dedicate my body to my country
And my life to my king.”

5 years later

The door of the main hall smashed open with a loud BANG! In the entrance a fierce man appeared. Whispers went around the main hall. Who was this man that so ruthlessly disturbed the meeting? Shocked, the audience looked to the man, as he walked towards the king.

“Who are you, and how dare you to disturb the king like this,” a man who sat right to the king asked: “Identify yourself!”
“It’s enough Darell, stop before you make a fool out of yourself,” the king spoke.
“But, my lord”
“Enough is enough, Darell”
“Now, if you wouldn’t mind, tell us your name stranger?” the king gently asked.
“My name is Gerrard, my lord,” the stranger replied as he kneeled: “Captain on the eastern borders, my lord.
“I suppose you have a good reason to disturb my meeting, on a kind…let’s say unpleasant way.”
“I do, my lord. General Ullrich had send me here with a urgent message my lord.”
“Well, why keep us waiting?”
“2 days ago a scout reported people fleeing towards our lands. He asked one of the refugees about the cause of their sudden flight. The answer was quit disturbing. A Phyrexian army is marching our way, murdering and looting anything in their path.”
“Quite unnerving news, lad. Sit down, while we will discuss this matter.”

The stranger now known as Gerrard, bowed before the king before he went to the place assigned to him. He only casted one look on the man that shouted at him when he entered.
His name was Darell. He was known to be silent as a serpent, twisted as a lone bog and evil as the devil’s heart.

“My brothers in arms,” the king started: “ as you might have heard, we now must discuss a dangerous matter. A Phyrexian army has been send our way, to demolish everything that we call our homes. Our armies can never rival the Phyrexians. No matter what choice we will make today, it will seal the faith of thousands. Any suggestions?”
It was like a cold wind had blown to the main hall. At the time the king was finished, there was no man who hadn’t felt a shiver go down his spine. When you would look around, all you would see is grim faces and nervously moving limbs. But no man opened his mouth. Until Darell stood up and said: “The paladins would be wise not to forget about the Balduvians. As these barbarians have turned the tide of more than one Phyrexian war…and I have no doubt they’ll do it again.”
Now it was Gerrard, the stranger that arose.
“My lord, I don’t think it is a good idea. Nothing is sacred to these rats. Everything is simply another loot. Besides, we’ve been victim of their treachery and ambitions on more then one occasion. Why won’t the betray us again?”
“But my king, if we don’t hire them, Mirrodin will be lost,” Darell panted.
As the king stood up to speak, both men sat down. “All in favor to hire Balduvian mercenaries, raise their hands.
A wave of hands descended into the air. It was a undeniable fact, that Gerrald had lost this cause. The Balduvians would be hired.

[Aenarion]

I'm in aswell in this one! Here is my story:

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Silent Night

The night was silent. As the first few shimmering lights glittered over the city. The only light to be seen, strangely enough was a small dot rising from the centre of the city until it reached a substantial height. The dot began to expand and expand, until it formed a ball of light. Its diameter reached the length of the whole city, covering it on all sides. The few people walking in the streets stared at this object. Suddenly the ball of light began to shrink again with a certain speed, until it became a dot again. A split of a second later the dot expanded and expanded, this time not stopping and in an instant it hit the city with terrible force…then there was darkness.

In a small village nearby, some of its inhabitants saw a great light coming from behind the hills. A deafening sound came dashing all over the area. Two minutes later, houses were being swept away and turned to dust; trees thrown in the air, … and chaos. Nobody had the chance to know what was happening, because as soon as they discovered the truth, they disappeared instantly.

Seen from above, the immense ball seemed to be gaining speed each time it expanded and destroyed cities, towns, villages, hamlets. A large crater was being created. As this explosion continued on its destructive path, people wandered: what was happening? Was this the end of the world? And suddenly darkness…
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Thanks,
Aenarion

[Hayduke]

The Squirrelslayer

Well practiced strokes propelled the canoe and its occupant swiftly down the Chenango. On his way to trade his furs downriver, his body piloted the canoe without conscious thought; his mind occupied itself by contemplating his past. An amused snort punctuated the remembrance of the fateful shot that inspired the name his adopted tribe gave him. It was an exceptionally lucky shot that pinioned two squirrels with one arrow at the height of their passions. Squirrelslayer would not have been the name he chose for himself, but most people seemed to react favorably to it; some even laughed till they cried when they learned the tale of how he earned it.
The sun was quite high, and Squirrelslayer decided it was a good time to seek some shade and break his fast, so he dexterously stroked to the east bank. When he reached it, he threw the paddle ashore. One hand carried his musket while the other dragged the canoe a few feet up the bank. The brush behind him exploded as a brave, hatchet raised, closed the gap between them. Without enough time to put finger to trigger, Squirrelslayer swung his musket in a wide arc, striking the brave a blow which knocked him on his back. With musket raised and while pondering what action to take next, Squirrelslayer’s curiosity prompted him to ask, “Why did you attack me young brave?”
Still out of breath from running along the bank as fast as the river flows while following his target, the brave managed to say, “I must take a warrior’s own scalp to my chief, so I can take my Man’s name.”
The Slayer replied with a snort of disgust, “You made a poor choice of targets, brave. Even if you took this scalp off this head, you could not take it from me. It is not mine.”
Rising to his feet and a non-aggressive stance the brave replied incredulously, “I’m at your mercy. Must I listen to your poor jokes as well?”
“No joke. My grandparents were taken from the Coast of Ivory across the ocean and were sold to a merchant in New York. My mother, she gave me to an Iroquois squaw, so my owner would not have me, and I could live like a free-man. So you see, this scalp, it’s not mine, and if you had taken it, you would have taken it from the man who owns me,” Squirrelslayer said with a smirk and a tone that expressed his cynical opinion.
If possible the young Indian looked even more confused and said, “I will never understand the ways of the white-man. My people capture prisoners. They obey, or they die, but if they escape, they are no longer a prisoner. How can one man own another?”
To which Squirrelslayer replied, “It is a thing the white people call the Law. You were born outside of it, and so I understand why it will not deter you from wanting my scalp. May I offer an alternative?” Without waiting he continued, “Come with me to the trading post. I’ll sell my skins and take the money to the fort. The captain there buys Indian scalps for two pounds. I’m sure for a few more he’d be willing to make himself or the King a quick profit and sell us one. Take it to your people and we can both be happy. I have no desire to kill you.”
Only a quick nod signified the young brave’s assent and Squirrelslayer, in a gesture of trust, turned his back to retrieve his supplies and begin his breakfast. An almost inaudible sound of grinding gravel reached his ear, and he knew the brave had leapt and a collision was imminent. He twisted, fell, and shot from the hip. The brave, pierced through the heart, landed beside him. Squirrelslayer chided himself. It was foolish to expect the brave to honor their agreement. Thinking he would keep a promise to an enemy was even more foolish than thinking he would understand slavery. Squirrelslayer promised himself to always remember that the Indian and the white man were from different worlds and that he would try and take the good from each and leave the rest.
Gazing sorrowfully at the young warrior who only had moments yet to live he said, “Tell me your name, brave, so I can pray for you and honor you in the way of my people.”
With the brave’s last breath he whispered, “Laughing Squirrel.”
The slayer raised his arms to the sky and shouted, “Ah, to be the Squirrelslayer. Ah, humanity!”

[Copperhaired Berserker!]

Here's mine. Hope I do a good story for once.

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The alien's great fault

Yeah, I'm in trouble. Have to go to the gallows, you see. Could've been worse. Could've been chucked into a lion case. You get resurrected in there 20 times, so the pain is so bad, you'd rather drown yourself 40 times. I was escorted through the streets.

Why was I in trouble? Too old, that's why. 300 years old me is. The gits think I'm the devil's warrior. Think I must be the warrior, as the only person who could be that old is a warrior of the devil. Goodness, they made me 300 years old!

Some machine enhanced my life span, of course they made me 300 years old to make a excuse to kill me. Damn aliens. The planet Earth is suffering because of them. I saw my planet being destroyed because of these aliens.

People were running through these streets, that were basicilly machinery, no nature at all in there. Big machines, like the ones out of War of the Worlds, chased those people and caught them with ease using large, mettalic claws to pick them up. They bashed those people off bulidings and chucked them onto a basket attached at the bottom of the thing.

I was pushed out into a arena where men and women were slaughtered by the thousands. I was sweating buckets and was pouring tears all over my wrinkled face. I saw those gallows. For extra pain they strucked victims with spears.

I screamed,"Why do we live!?!?!?!? What point is there to live if you slimy gits try and kill us!" The aliens charged at me with weapons, because I insulted them. I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable.

Then they stopped. They all screamed in pain as something seemed to eat away their body. I could not see it. Then it dawned on me. Bacteria. Invisible, minute, bacteria.

I thought now I was the only human on earth, alone as I knew those aliens would die right now. I saw that I was getting younger.

Alien DNA changed me. Why I was older. Those aliens believed in Heaven and Hell. But was differeint from our religion. Alien DNA was dying and I was turning back to normal. Explains why I got into this mess. I found this out as something seemed to tell me why.

Then I saw another human. A woman. My wife. It was two remaining people on Earth. I was now with my wife. And now.... we would start all over again.

Berserker!

[shifty157]

Eh. Might as well. Heres a quick little anecdote i wrote a few months back. See if its any decent.
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Down The Barrel

I looked down the underside of the six inch steel barrel, nicked and scratched from countless forgotten suns of use. Despite the revolver's obvious age it was clearly well made. The parts carefully hand machined from an era long past made it more of an antique than a killing tool. With a few touch ups it was reasonable to assume it could fetch a decent price displayed on red velvet in some auction house where naive rich men cared to keep alive the deaths of the past. The gun was heavey. You could see it in the strain in his arm. He'd been holding it against my forehead for the past thirty minutes. I don't think he had planned on it taking this long but it has and now the strain which he was trying so hard to conceal was showing itself. I almost felt bad for him. You could hear the strain in his voice as he tried to keep himself collected. He was rushing. He was tired. He was amateur. I let the barrel lead my eyes down its worn steel to its base. Five .38s smirked back at me nestled snuggly within their open chambers. I stopped at each one and fancied feeling them caress my skull in the way that only a high-velocity hollow-tip round could when its launched through the rifling. Designed and perfected over the years by those paid well and those unknowing not only to shatter bone but also to collapse in on themselves upon impact and splinter. I wouldn't have to worry about that though. This shot was going clean through. He twitched on the trigger. White with nervousness and impatience, sweaty and shaking ever so slightly with exertion his hand barely held a grip on the oversized bludgeon. Small men like him were never meant to use such a big gun. Its no wonder they took such pride in it. His plump eyes drew me away though. Angry, tired, and aggitated. He was ready. And so was I. He asked the question. I blinked and ran my tongue over my blood soaked teeth. The newly resettled silence was only disturbed by the metallic ticking of an unlocated clock and the seductively calming voice of the revolver.

[Dimeola]

Hi all, been a long time for me. I just wanted to post an example of my work. What I will do is to give the winner my email and we will figure out what you want.
Good luck gentlemen,
Dimeolas

[master of the puppets]

Out of the morning mist a shadow slithered unseen into the camp.
it made no sound as it moved but it was solid, its jet black pupils slithered from side to side taking in the entire camp in a matter of moments.
the air was cloying with the smell of withering burning death. smoke rose in a solid gray stream, covering the sky.
thunder rumbled in the distance, a growl that shook the air and somehow emanated the horrors which will soon arrive.
all was quiet as the thing wrapped its hand around the electrified fence, it made no show of the pain it undoubtedly felt as its muscular ulcerous fingers bent and broke the metal links that made up the fence.
its twisted fingers snapped and rent each chunk of metal until there was a gaping hole, it pushed its body through the hole and into the quiet camp.
The towers high above swooped lights about the floor of the camp, over the shacks where the skeletal creatures slept in starvation and fear.
and suddenly the light touched the creature and it paused. the creature did not make a move to avoid the all convicting glare but started up at the tower.
two men sat up there, one guided the light with one hand while rest the other upon the mg34 that was attached to the side.
he sat stock still his eyes locked with those of the thing, its horrid black eyes staring into his light blue ones.
his comrade walked over and gazed out to see what had so perplexed his friend. seeing the thing he raised his mp43 and took aim.
but he was to slow, for his own comrade drew his luger and pumped three shells into the SMGer.
a look of shock passed over the mans face as he looked at his friend slumped and bleeding, and he tried to scream but he could not.
because there was someone else in his head, like fire in his skull it blanketed his conscious and stifled the scream he wanted to let free.
and so that overpowering force pushed him to take a step forward, and another, pushing his legs until he was pressed right up against the wooden barrier that separated him from a 30 foot drop.
and suddenly that barrier was pointless as the being within his mind ordered him to put his leg up on the barrier and leap into open space, and so he did.
and in the last second of the fall the fire left his mind and he had control once more, so he executed the only act he had power to do, scream.
with a crunch the body landed at the creatures feet, a little chuckle escaped the creatures throat.
he took a few steps towards the next tower where the guards sat blissfully unaware until there minds were consumed by a violent force, one watched in horror as his brother in arms pulled a grenade from his belt.
the blast blew apart the tower and threw the camp into wakefulness. an Unteroffizer rushed out of the nearest barracks and was quickly taken by the creature, his mind free unlike the others but some invisible physical force pushed his arms to his sides and began to drag him.
to the horror of the 50 or so soldiers that had arrived on the scene the officer screamed as the unholy force dragged him closer and closer to the electric fence.
he kicked his legs and struggled with all his might but showing a lack of patience the officer was suddenly hurled backwards where he landed on the electric fence spread eagle, his eyes were wide with horror staring at the shocked soldiers.
the force pinned him to the fence he screamed and went into violent convulsions his limbs flailing as the electricity carved paths through his body.
a violent maniacal laugh poured out of the creature as all eyes shifted from the still convulsing officer to him.
he, it was tall at least 2 meters tall. his body scared but under the skin rippled muscles, his black hair and eyes him seem merciless, and so he was.
and then he spoke, his voice was completely inhuman, it was deep and cold, it sounded mettalic like metal scraping upon metal, almost synthasized.
"its the day of judgment and you god is calling" it crooned as it stalked twards the petrified SS troops.
"now i want you to think of all the horrid, barbaric things you've ever done" it said "that way you will go straight to hell when i kill you" and then it lauged.
one brave foolish soldier shoulder his rifle. the creature pointed at the fools head and some unknown force struck him snapping his head back and shattering his spine.
as the body slumped to the ground the creature said "and when you meet the gods tell them that the master of puppets sends his regards" and he charged.
nmost turned and fled but smome stayed devoted to there poisonous madness and tried to shoot him. as there fingers laid upon there triggers he was upon then. lashing out with invisible chains he struck into them breaking each of them one by one. none dared to get close to him but it was no matter as he entered the group his chain lashed out wrapping around the waist of one soldier he hurled him skyward where he would then plummet to his death.
chains whipped out and smashed into ones torso collapsing lungs and hearts. a liquid silver chain lashed out striking the skull of one which exploded his head like a watermelon.
it went like that for a moment, in a ring of death the master of puppets broke each of them like rag dolls.
Those who ran did not get far, and that night the master of puppets alternately laughed and cried as he walked away from the smoldering remains of the death camp.

srry, its so long (still under a tousand )but i got kinda caught up lol