Writing Contest I

[S.W.A.T.K.]

Here's the deal. Write something. Post it here. It can be funny. It can be dramatic. It can be straight up cool. So long as it's entertaining...and appropriate.

Contest entries end January 1, 2012. So yeah, you've got plenty of time.

[S.W.A.T.K.]

Winner gets cake. ;D

[S.W.A.T.K.]

Anyone got anything? Seriously, if there ends up bein' just one submission....

[Griffin2448]

Yes I have one written up. I need to edit it and post it. Dont worry.

[Arcane]

Hope this isn't too long: Its (part of) a chapter of I story I really need to finish. To sum up what's happened: Aaron is a notorious pirate marooned on an island. Here:

Awakening sometime later, Aaron found himself in a large bed made of the smoothest silk. The mattress was plush and the feather-filled pillows were of the finest quality.

Struggling to his feet, Aaron regretted the fact he had no bags to stash the sheets in. They would go for a hefty price in the black market. Alas, he had none.

Exploring the room further, he found many other valuables. There were amulets, bracelets, charms, scrolls, rings, diamonds, and more in the small chamber. He had hit the gold mine but he was merely looking, unable to take anything.

Going for the door, he found it was locked. He was trapped in hell - precious items all around him and no way to steal them. Running for the balcony, he found it overlooked the sea. About 20 meters below, the waves were cresting and splashing up on the cliff face in relentless fury.

Sighing, Aaron knew he was dead. How else could one go from running from a jaguar to being trapped in a luxurious room with a seaside view in the Underworld?

As it turned out, Aaron was no dead. This place, this hell was much worse than anything any devil could create. This was a whole new level of torture as Aaron could only wish he was gambling his soul with Satan. He could only wish.

He heard the click of a lock from the door and, just a moment afterwards, a young man stood before him with a kind and gentle smile upon his face. “Ah, I see you have awoken, friend. Are you finding the room to your liking?” he asked, handsomely.

“Ah, yes, thank you,” Aaron nervously answered. “Who are you? And why was I locked in this room?” he asked. He remembered the broad-shouldered man who had knocked him out. This fine gentleman before him hardly seemed the type to best a ruthless pirate. No, he looked more like one of the pirate’s victims. This man looked more like the kind of nobleman deserving whatever came his way, whether this be a downturn in the local economy, the burning of one of his vessels, or, perhaps, the severing of one’s head.

This man, no matter of size or strength, still seemed to burrow a chasm right into Aaron’s wicked soul and poison it with evil thoughts and emotion. He seemed to taint what goodness and graciousness was left in the withered petal of his spirituality.

Shivering, as he could not help himself, Aaron repeated his question. “Why am I here? Why was I locked in this room? And, again, who are you?”

“Me?” the young boy asked, innocently. “I am Archos. Archos Centura. Welcome to my little home.” With that statement, the boy –Archos – turned slowly and walked off in swift, royal steps, closing the door behind him.

Aaron heard a click and knew he was locked in once again. This time, however, he found a note on the floor where Archos had stood. It read:

‘Dearest friend. I welcome you to my quaint home. I apologize for the inconvenience of the lacking of a key. I shall send someone to fetch you once you have settled in. You will find clothing and any accessories you may need in the small closet in the north-west corner of the room. Please take time to change into dinner apparel. I shall see you soon. ~Archos Centura.’

Setting the parchment on the bed, Aaron found he had dim-wittedly overlooked the door in the corner. Opening it, he found a large walk-in closet with clothing in all colors from Hot Pink to Navy Blue. Small closet, my salty ass! The sailor said to himself. Quickly selecting a dark gray silk suit from the closet, a pair of brown moccasins, and a rather interesting amulet with a large sharp tooth at the bottom of it embedded with, of Aaron’s piracy instinct wasn’t deceiving him – which it had done never before, a black diamond.

---

I wrote the first part some time ago (about two months) and my work has greatly improved so there's a change in the overall quality. Hope it's fine!

[Griffin2448]

((Here's my "Start writing and see what you come up with" entry.))

There once was man a from a small village in southern Ireland. He enjoyed the small things in life. But books, trees, buckets, hats, shoes, onions, and trees were the things he held most near and dear to him. He always had a book on him even if the book was written in a language he could not understand. Anywhere he went, he would try and spot the types of trees he recognized from his book about trees. Atop his cranium would be his trusty, rusty bucket. He would keep various things inside the bucket whilst he wore it. But he would normally store snacks or other food items he loved, such as onions. He also loved shoes. Mostly just red shoes that had his name stitched into them. In fact, he had a pair just like that, and he called them his Lucky Shoes, or Tom. Mostly just his Lucky Shoes though. The man also liked the color green, but he didn't like to talk about that too often.

And that's the story of a random man's values.

The end.

[Griffin2448]

You need to pick a winner.

[S.W.A.T.K.]

Griffin wins. Arion isn't even here anymore. lol