Fortnightly Writing Competition -CAMPING (Results)

Started by Baron, Tue 26/07/2016 03:13:27

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Baron

It is now the middle of summer, the most clement of seasons.  Now is the time when the common folk marvel at the temporary hospitable-ness of the wilderness and think, hey, even I could hack it out there!  Campgrounds swell with the teeming hordes, parks are overrun, and even the deepest bush is penetrated by the irrepressible enthusiasm of man.  So this is my challenge to you, Fortnwriters:

Let's Go CAMPING!





Your story can be about anything, as long as the main characters are camping in some form (i.e. not residing in a permanent dwelling structure).  So you could write about gypsies on the road, or carnies floating from town to town.  You could vote about the Roman legions on the march, or medieval merchant adventurers, or prospectors in the bush, or hunters on the hunt, or primitive humanoids dragging their motley possessions across the steppe, or American Girl Scouts playing truth-or-dare, or a refugee camp, or surveyors exploring a new land, or suburbanites running amok in nature, or pioneers, or space aliens on vacation, or ghost stories around the camp fire, or ...well, you get the idea.

Deadline for submissions is Monday August 8.  I will start voting sometime later on the 9th EDT.

Quote from: Ponch on Fri 22/07/2016 22:29:40
I only wish I had more categories so everyone could get their share of my votes :wink:

The dancing cow speaks reason.  We need lots of categories to make voting more fun! ;)

Submissions will be judged on the following criteria:

Best Character: the most believable/captivating/magnetic/unique character
Best Setting: the most vivid background world, or most gripping atmosphere (i.e. nature in all it's harsh reality or haunting unknowability)
Best Plot: the best organized, coherent and well-executed story with appropriate pacing, climax, etc.
Best Word Choice: the technical art of combining words in a memorable way
Best Natural Obstacle: What was the best curve-ball that nature threw at our heroes?
Most Substantive: Which story best reveals a lesson about humanity or the world around us?

Good luck to all participants!   

kconan

It was a beautiful spring day when the Jensen family trekked into the Henry Mountains.  The father, Archibald (AKA “Archie”) Jensen, checked his old school lensatic compass as his loved ones made their way up a steep slope past Dead Man's Gulch.  Robbie Jensen, the teenage son of the Jensen clan, looked up from an old map and said, “Seriously?  Does everything around here have to be Devil's or Dead Man's something?  We just passed Devil's Knob.  Over there is Dead Man's Gulch, and further up ahead is Devil's Peak.”  Sarah Jensen, Robbie's slightly older Sister and the least outdoorsy of the group, paused her gum chewing and replied. “Like who cares?  This whole place might as well be called Turdsylvania,” as she once again deftly sidestepped Bison leavings.  Archie Jensen begged, “Alright guys, please stop complaining.  Sarah, when we make camp I'll return your phone and I promise to setup the solar heated shower bag.  I'd prefer you be a camper and not a -” Sarah cut in with, “-a glamper.  Yeah yeah Dad I know...”  Robbie turned to his Aunt Christina, who was in the process of digging out a tick, and said, “Do you think we'll find any arrowheads?”  Christina Stone, a tough survivalist who was intimately familiar with nature and the Henry Mountains in particular, responded, “Not here, the Navajo were close but they didn't travel into the mountains often.”  Sarah interjected, “Hey Chief Running Sore (a dig at Robbie's minor acne problem), I'm older than you so I get the posher tent.”  Robbie responded by throwing a bison hairball at his Sister.  Archie shook his head and thought about his late wife Arial, who was much better at mediating his children's disputes than he ever was.

Christina Stone advised, “I know we'd lose a day or two Arch, but we should go around.  She's running a little rough right now.”  Archie lowered his voice and countered, “We can handle it Chris.  Just because it is called Dirty Devil River doesn't mean it's dangerous, right?”  The group stood in front of the Dirty Devil River, which was overflowing due to recent heavy downpours.  While relatively shallow in many areas, the bottom is littered with jagged shale and the river was infamous for having an unpredictable current.  Christina spied a water birch tree near the river bank covered in bear markings and said, “I know you view this river crossing as some sort of family challenge that needs to be conquered, but I just don't think it is worth the risk.  In addition to the perils of Dirty Devil, I've seen a bobcat den and multiple bear markings nearby.”  Archie locked eyes with his late wife's sister and said, “You know Arial loved the outdoors, and especially this area.  Before her passing she told me to take our kids into the Henry Mountains and toughen them up while at the same time trying to get them to appreciate nature.  They were too young before…”  Archie Jensen began to tear up, and then stared down at a quartz rock that was embedded in the clay soil.

Archie recovered, smiled at his kids and said, “So we'll cross this…uhh little stream…here, and then head over to Robbers Roost Canyon.  Which is a pretty cool spot because it's where outlaws of the Wild West would hide out and hole up when they were on the run.”  Sarah blew a bubble and said, “Is there like Wi-Fi or something there?  I hope it's not super groty.”  Robbie thought about old west outlaws and offered, “Sounds good Dad.”  Archibald Jensen added, “We may also see some bladderworts in a few of the bogs along the route.  They are the only carnivorous plants in Utah.”  Sarah began swatting at flying insects that were attracted to her perfume, and then Christina Stone took a swig from her canteen and said, “So here is how we are going to cross this river…”


Christina knew that the thin nylon rope connecting her Niece, Nephew, and Brother-in-law was only a precautionary measure, as the current turned out to be weaker than it seemed from the shoreline.  Still, it made her feel reassured.  Much like Arial had last wishes for her husband, she also had wishes for Christina to carry out.  The primary overriding task was to watch over the kids and keep them safe.  Christina let nothing get in her way of this duty, and that included not having kids of her own.  She was happy with her life working as a park ranger by day, teaching judo part-time at night, and seeing Archie and the kids on most weekends.

The unseasonably warm water came up to everyone's knees, as the Jensen kids were tall for their age.  Archie led the group in single file across the river.  He would gingerly plant a foot in the muddy bottom, ensure that there were no sharp jagged rocks, and then firmly step.  At one point Robbie asked Sarah, “You are IN nature, so why would you bring a “sounds of nature” machine to help you sleep?”  Sarah replied, “Yeah well it will prove handy when I, like, crank the volume up to drown out the sounds of you taking Fistina to the Palm Prom in your sleeping bag.”  Outside of Sarah and Robbie's occasional bickering, they continued without incident nearly making it to the other side before a small otter paddled past Archie and interrupted the procession.  Everyone chuckled at the sight, and they had just resumed traversing the river when Robbie shouted out in extreme pain. 

Christina, who brought up the rear, collected the rope as she sprinted through the water to him.  Robbie was doubled over in pain.  The expert survivalist held out her hand silently ordering Sarah and Archie to remain where they are, and then wrapped an arm around Robbie who lifted his injured left leg out of the water.  Christina saw a jagged rock sticking out of the front of the boot, briefly mulled it over, and said, “Robbie are those real Gore-Tex boots?”  Robbie muttered, “Sorry Aunt Christina, they are actually Gored-Tex.  I thought the knockoffs would be just as good…and sorry again, I uhhh…Pocketed the savings from the money you gave me.”  Christina's face reddened and she spat, “They are appropriately named.  Anyway we'll talk about that later, right now we are going over there,” while pointing at the muddy embankment just in front of Archie Jensen, whom she nodded at to continue.  Archie clambered over the bank onto the other side, and noticed his son appeared to be in reasonable overall shape despite the rock jutting out of the front of his left shoe.  He turned around and saw a large man with an equally huge beard and scarred forehead lean out from behind a redwood tree.  The man eyeballed Archie and put a finger to his closed lips.  In response, Archie glanced down, reached for his bear pepper spray, and looked back to see that the man had vanished.  Christina had warned him of homeless people that occasionally made their way out here, and Archie wondered if that was the case with this strange man.  Sarah brushed herself off and climbed up the bank.  Christina pushed Robbie over the top while Sarah pulled him up with the nylon rope, and after a few heaves he was dumped over onto the soft clay ground by the water's edge.  Christina quickly ascended the bank, in time to see Sarah say to her brother, “Glad you didn't die bro.”

Robbie plopped down on the burnt-sienna colored soil while his Aunt looked over the injury.  She said, “It's not as bad as it looks.”  Christina removed the offending rock from the low quality knockoff hiking boot, which caused Robbie to briefly grimace, and investigated the damage.  She retrieved a small first aid kit from her high-end Osprey backpack and went to work as Archie mentioned seeing the bearded stranger, and they collectively decided to move a little further into the woods and make camp for the night while Robbie recuperated.


Dusk broke, while Sarah leaned back on a large tree stump as she filed her nails and Archie gathered wood.  Christina scouted the area surrounding the makeshift camp, and paused her task briefly to watch a male sage grouse perform a series of arrogant struts while several females eating sagebrush half-watched.  Her recon uncovered more bear markings on several trees, a small copse of poison sumac, and an area littered with old shoeprints.  Tracking the shoeprints to a particular location was impossible as they seemed randomly placed which either meant this area was heavily trafficked or more likely, the person who left them knew how to leave a confusing trail.  The veteran survivalist checked that her oversized Gerber hunting knife was secured in its sheath, and walked over to where Archie had begun making a campfire.  She queried, “So Arch, this guy wanted you to be quiet?”  Archie flicked the business end of the strike anywhere match against a nearby rock, and tossed it into the kindling.  He glanced up at Christina and replied, “I don't know how else to take what is basically the international symbol for shut up.”  Christina pondered this for a moment while Archie stoked the slowly building campfire, and then said, “He might have been concerned about something nearby hearing you, or all of us as we climbed out of the river.  Damnit!  I was so focused on Robbie's foot that I should have been paying attention…”  Archie waved her off, and then observed his son's tent.  After determining that his son was safely inside resting, he said, “C'mon Chris, you can't do everything.  While Robbie takes it easy, I'm hoping to get in some stargazing tonight with Sarah.  I know that's not her thing normally, but it's a clear night and there is supposed to be a meteor shower.”  They both looked over at Sarah, who was examining an anodized aluminum cylinder with solar cells on top.  Archie sighed with a grin on his face and said, “That's a portable latte machine complete with bean grinder and milk frother.  The majority of her backpack is filled with gadgets like that.”  Christina giggled and said, “Sarah looks so much like her Mom, but they couldn't have more different personalities.” 

They returned to face the now roaring campfire.  Archie choked up and whispered, “I miss her so much Chris.  She was not only the love of my life, but the matriarch and heart-and-soul of our humble little clan.”  Christina said, “I know…Arch, I think about her every day…But you need to move on.  At least for the kids.”  Archie tossed a few large twigs in the fire and internally reminisced about the time he and Arial roasted marshmallows, and then replied, “You first.”  Christina said, “I'm happy being single, and even if my sister was around I wouldn't want kids of my own.”  They both sat quietly gazing into the fire when the sister of Archie's high school sweetheart broke the silence with, “Well it seems that Robbie's injury is relatively minor so, assuming he is up to it, tomorrow we could cautiously-“ and then abruptly stopped mid-sentence.  Christina and Archie whirled around and watched in horror as Sarah cuddled with two brown bear cubs.

Sarah cooed at the small bears, as her Aunt stalked over and her Dad quietly removed the bear pepper spray from his belt clip.  Christina hissed at her Niece, “Drop them and get over here now.”  Sarah responded, “Whatever!  These guys are like tots cut and this is like a perf photog op for my squad on Hipstergram.”  Christina continued to slowly walk over to Sarah while swiveling her had back-and-forth scanning the tree-line for the mother of the bear cubs; her main fear being that she could startle the cubs who would then call out for help.  Archie tried to get Sarah's attention by waving his hands, but to no avail and so he slowly made his way in his daughter's direction as well.  Christina was roughly ten feet away from her niece when she stopped to crouch, and warned, “Sarah, carefully set them down and make your way to the campfire.”  Archie picked up a huge 8-cell Maglite that Robbie had insisted on bringing despite the added weight, as he gradually advanced on Sarah's position.  Sarah frowned at her Aunt and said, “Chill Auntie Buzzkill.  They are like so not dangerous.  Hey get my camera out of my pack, it is in the big pocket next to the solar powered hair dryer.”  One of the cubs was eating gummy bears, while the other alternated harmlessly swiping Sarah's shirt and licking her hand.  Christina forced down the temptation to strangle her Niece, and pleaded, “The Mom is going to maul you to death if she catches you with her cubs.”  Archie, bear pepper spray in one hand and large Maglite in the other, stood guard anxiously awaiting the results of his Sister-in-law's attempts to get his daughter away from the cubs.

As Sarah considered what her Aunt had said about over-protective momma bears, the cub eating gummy bears began lolling its head around and making weird noises.  Christina glanced at the bag of gummies, recalled their recent road trip to Colorado, and face-palmed as she realized that the cub had been eating THC laced candy.  She lifted her head up in time to witness the stoned cub release a torturous scream, which was quickly answered by an alarmingly close booming roar.  The realization of what was transpiring finally hit Sarah, who hurled both cubs into the air as she scurried past her father and into the perceived safety of her tent.  Due to being thrown onto a hard cooking pot, the previously quiet cub began loudly crying and joined its sibling in a symphony of anguish.  Christina and Archie exchanged frightened glances as a fifteen hundred pound female Kodiak brown bear stood up where Sarah had been sitting, nudged one of its cubs, and then let loose a furious roar revealing a gaping maw that housed impossibly large droolly fangs.  Both Christina and Archie scattered in different directions and the monstrous bear started after Archie, but then paused to sniff the air for some unidentified scent.  It then dramatically spun around and bull charged Sarah's tent, which the enraged animal smashed into a million splinters of fabric and metal.  Archie saw his daughter land in broken heap on top of a thorny bush.  The mother bear trotted over to finish off its prey, but stopped as Archibald Jensen jumped in front.  The gigantic carnivore reared up and roared with outstretched claws swinging, and received a faceful of bear pepper spray for its trouble.  Archie kept the trigger pulled as the stream doused the now thrashing and howling bear, and due to the unlucky wind direction, was himself slightly blinded.  Christina grabbed Archie, who cursed and threw the spent spray bottle aside, and pulled him towards safety.  Through bleary vision, Archie could make out Christina checking on Sarah's crumpled form.  Sarah moaned and Christina advised, “Can't move you right now…Stay quiet.” 

The huge bear roared in anger from stinging eyes and partial blindness, and the sound of a stoned cub loudly wailing certainly added to its frustration.  Christina watched as the bear staggered backwards into Robbie's tent, which knocked it down, and then her Nephew hobbled and hopped away from his broken tent in a mad awkward dash for the treeline.  Christina could see that the big beast was recovering from the pepper spray and was now stalking Robbie.  Christina and Archie both jogged towards the bear.  The survivalist and judo expert halted to begin climbing a lone redwood and said to Archie, “I know it's crazy, but lure the damn thing over here under this tree.”  Despite the plan being totally absurd, Archie found himself following through with it as he gained on the bear.  The monstrous beast chased Robbie as he retreated behind shrubbery.  Archie's son dodged a lunging paw swipe, but tripped and was hit in the side with a follow-up swat that sent him sprawling into a small ditch.  The bear power-trotted towards its target…until something forcefully smacked it in the hindquarters.  The hulking animal was heavily panting and bleary eyed as it whipped around to see Archibald Jensen taunt, “Hey, come and get some of this!”  The bear half-charged and stumbled in the process, as Archie literally ran for his life.  He sprinted with his flashlight on and the beam bobbing up-and-down in front of him.  There was a loud crash as Archie passed the redwood, and he then spun around to see his Sister-in-law on top of the thrashing bear.  A knife was buried to the hilt in the upper back of the Jensen family's attacker, and Archie guessed that she had missed her intended target (the head).  The bear bucked, sending Christina Stone flailing through the air, and started rubbing its back up against a tree in attempts to remove the foreign object.  Archie hoped their newfound enemy would finally run off, but he braced the Maglite in both hands in preparation for a last stand…and then a loud gunshot rang out.

The bear slumped over, twitched for a few seconds, and then was still.  A tall grizzled man holding a big bore rifle walked out of the woods over to Archie and handed him a note which read, “Emergency services has been contacted and they are sending a helicopter.  Hang in there.”  Archie recognized the man, assumed that he must be deaf, and shook his hand vigorously before checking on Christina - who was now roundhouse kicking the bear corpse.  Archie asked his Sister-in-law, “Are you ok?” and was met with a stone-cold glare in response.  She stopped beating on the dead animal and ordered, “Check Robbie and I'll get Sarah.”


Robbie Jensen was holding his side when Archie found him sitting on the edge of a ditch.  The father attended to his son by wrapping a long scarf around his midsection, and assured him, “You will be ok; could have been a lot worse.  Your sister looks rough as well, but I think she will make it.”  Robbie managed a feeble attempt at patting his Dad on the back; he considered his father a hero for saving his life.  While waiting for the medics, they sat together and discussed future camping trips that would take place outside of bear country.

Sarah was lying on the ground moaning.  Christina noticed that she had fell off of the bush at some point, and said, “Don't move, you might have a broken neck.”  While examining her Niece she asked, “Where does it hurt?”  Sarah weakly replied, “I was bumrushed by a giant murderous bear, so yeah I hurt like everywhere Florence Nightingale…Hey I saw your suicidal superninja blitz dive from the tree.  Pretty rad auntie.”  Christina smiled, but it slowly dissipated as she watched the two bear cubs nuzzle their dead mother and heard their wails of despair.

Baron

There's no WAY Mandle is reading all that by the voting deadline. ;)

Who else is feeling the call of the great outdoors?

Baron

Halfway there, peeps.  You've got exactly 7 days left to put those great ideas into words. 

Mandle

 
The Story Of The Seven Steps

  We are all huddled in the triangle of light and safety of our tent and all outside is darkness and fear.
  Barry, my best friend for the four years since age five, digs his "True Ghost Stories" book out from his rucksack and cracks it at the dog-ear. Ron, all rumbly-tumbly and full of snacks, starts to wet himself as usual and spills his bag of chips all over his sleeping bag by covering his ears.
  Me and Barry lock eyes for an instant and then roll them. I say "Ron, the book's all just made up bullshit..." to which Barry replies "HEY!!! No it's NOT!!!". We ass around for a bit, beating each other up all pretend, and then the giggles set in enough for even Ron to chill out and listen to the next story from the book.
  Barry reads to us "The Story Of The Seven Steps":
  "It was a night just like...(blah blah blah)...just say the name "Grabberman" three times before...(blah blah blah)...and the Grabberman must wait until they took seven steps away from the light before it could...(blah blah blah)...5...6...And then only silence..."
  Barry finishes reading. With our bladders turning to ice we just stare all wall-eyed at each other for a moment and start cracking up from the after-rush.
  But now Ron gets his all-serious-face on and says "But what if it's real?"
  I start to say "Naw, it's just made-up bullsh..."
  When Barry cuts me off with "One way to find out!"
  Now it's on like Donkey Kong. Some rounds of "Rock-Paper-Scissors" later and we have our order worked out: Barry goes out first, then Ron, and then me.
  Barry says "Grabberman Grabberman Grabberman", pulls the tent-flap aside and ducks out into the night like he is Batman or something. He starts counting "1...2...3...4......5......" ,as his voice gets slowly further away "...6....", and then there is only silence.
  Ron blows out a laugh that explodes from behind his held breath and says "Barry you tool! You are so faking this!". There is only silence.
  Ron looks at me with laughter and doubt in his eyes, to which I just incline my head towards the tent flap in response. He looks down and in a trembling voice says "Grabberman Grabberman Grabberman" then barges out running into the night: "1....2....(stumbles) OH SHIT!...3..4...5..I THINK?...6.....", and then there is only silence.
  I say "Grabberman Grabberman Grabberman", pull the tent flap aside and walk out into the darkness.
  I start counting: "1...2...3...4...5...6..."
Spoiler

  Out from the darkness I see Barry gripping Ron from behind with his hand over his mouth. Barry starts laughing. From the look in his eyes Ron has got the joke and is playing along. He now knows that Barry and me planned this little scare-fest right from the start.
  I say "...7..."
Spoiler
and then pull the knife out from my waistband and stab that fat pig Ron right in his fat pig gut blood spurts out in a torrent and I see Barry look down at what I have done but the shock on his face barely has time to register before I pull the knife back out of the fat pig and push it into Barry's face his eyes go all crossed like he is trying to look at the knife in the middle of his face and then he and the fat pig slump to the ground all of a sudden
Spoiler

  These are my memories from that sweet summer so many summers ago. Now I wait, crouched in the darkness with my knife, exactly seven kid-sized steps away from that triangle of light and safety that is their tent.
  And I hear "Grabberman Grabberman Grabberman" and then the count begins.
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Mandle

Quote from: Baron on Thu 28/07/2016 02:13:44
There's no WAY Mandle is reading all that by the voting deadline. ;)

Just read it all...your taunt drove me on through some of the longest paragraphs and densest thickets of text ever encountered by man...

And after pushing my way out the other side I really feel like I've been through a forest and a half.

The story was a survival experience in more ways than one... (laugh)

Stupot


Baron

We may have just started anticipating your submission. 8-)

Sinitrena

Warning: This story contains mature content of a sexual nature. If you feel uncomfortable with this or are not of legal age, please stop reading, at the latest at the spoiler tags. I've put the most explicit part behind them. (It should still make sense if you leave this part out.)




Late Summer's Dream

„We're lost, aren't we?“ Celia asked.

„We are not lost!“ Debra said, not for the first time. Angrily, she trudged onward, not looking back for a second. After a while, she noticed that Celia wasn‘t following and turned around.

Celia stood in the middle of the small track, just wide enough between trees and undergrowth that one person could walk comfortably. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that she hung in the middle of the track like a sleeping marionette that wasn‘t needed in this part of the play. She had her hands on the knees and the head bowed, so that her unruly ponytail swung back and forth in front of her eyes. She had put her rucksack down. Sweat glistered on her bare arms and legs. Her skintight top had ridden up her back and her shorts showed slightly more of her ass than she would have been comfortable with anywhere else.

All in all, a very inviting backside... - No, not the right moment.

“Are you coming?” Debra asked and walked a few steps back on the path.

“Are we lost?” Celia asked again and looked up. “You know you can tell me; I'm not Ian.”

“I know you're not Ian. My ex was an ass. And no, we are not lost! How could we? This was the only path!” Debra sounded slightly more annoyed than she meant to but Celia's constant nagging since they started for their hiking trip was getting on her nerves.

“And why aren't we there yet, then? You said we would reach Clayton before noon. It's fucking evening! I've gone on this stupid track ‘cause you wanted to, but honestly, I'm sick and tired of it. Eight days. Eight fucking days just walking and sleeping on the ground, burning heat during the day, stuffy air in the tent... and I won't even start with the downpour two days ago. And now, on the last day when we should finally reach civilization again, we get fucking lost?”

“I told you we're not lost. Maybe we walked a few miles less than intended each day. It happens. We'll get there.”

“It happens? ‘Course it happens. And maybe we got lost. That happens too, you know. But we can't tell, can we? ‘Cause you insisted that we leave all technology behind. Just you and me, in the wilderness, alone, so that we can get to know each other better than ever before. How romantic! How wonderful! Best idea you ever fucking had.”

“It's not like I've never done this before!”

“Great!” Celia snatched her rucksack up and stormed past Debra, pressing her in the trees to make room for herself. “Just great!”

Debra stood there for a moment while Celia stomped further away. After a moment, she sighed and then followed as fast as she could.

“Celia! Celia, wait! Please wait.”

“What?”

“Okay, maybe this trip was a bad idea. You hate it, and I love you too much to do anything you hate. I love you, Celia.”

“That's cheesy.” Celia laughed coyly.

“Sorry, yeah, but it's true. Listen, we're not lost. We're late, but that's all. Maybe we'll have to spent one more night out here, but tomorrow...”

“Tomorrow, yeah...”

“Come here.” Debra gently turned Celia around and put her hand on her cheek to caress her and wipe away angry or frustrated tears. Her hand slid behind the other woman's nape and she pressed slightly so that Celia bent down for the smaller Debra. First their foreheads touched and they stared into each other's eyes, then their mouths met in a tender and careful kiss, both cautious because they weren't sure if their fight was already over. Fingers tickled the smooth skin on Celia's hips and moved the top further up, reaching underneath and up to her breasts. Celia slung her arms around Debra's neck, pulling her closer. Then she moved her arms to the side, stripping the straps of Debra's rucksack from her back.

“Hot,” a voice suddenly said from behind Debra.

Debra and Celia disengaged immediately and Debra wheeled around. They both hadn't noticed anyone else on the path even though he must have been close behind them.

“The weather or we?” Debra asked with a cocky grin, tucking her black hair behind her ear and the temple of her glasses.

“Both, actually. - And you're welcome when I add to it, by the by,” the man said, returning her smile with an even cockier one that seemed obscene on his swollen lips. He wasn't particularly large, having to look up to both of the women. Long silvery hair, completely wet, hung down his back to the ground. Large eyes examined their bodies openly and without any sign of shame. “It really is an honor.”

“An honor? What the hell. Who are you and what do you want?” Debra asked. Her first thought when she saw this guy and heard him speak was creepy. It didn't help that he reminded her of her ex.

“Hell? Hel? Hellelelelel... No. No no no no no. Wrong. Wrong mythology.” Maniac laughter mixed with the sounds of the forest, amplifying them. The birds sang louder, the crickets chirped in the grass, even a single wolf howled in the distance.

Debra reached for the bowie knife at her hip while Celia swung the rucksack from her shoulder and opened it to search for the gun they had taken along in case of dangerous animals. But a single ray of sunshine blinked through the treetops and blinded both women for a second. When they could see again, the man was gone.

“What just happened?” Celia asked.

“I have absolutely no idea. But we should hurry. We should definitely hurry.”

“Oh no, don't go.” The man wasn't gone. His voice echoed from the thicket, making it impossible to determine where it was coming from. “I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Quin. I'm so sorry. I forgot my glamors.”

“Glamors? You mean manners, right?” Debra had no idea where she got the strength to even ask. There was something amiss here. This was not a usual meeting in the middle of a hike.

Quin reappeared in front of them. There was nothing different about him but Debra still found herself re-sheathing her bowie knife. She tried to stop herself. She tried to jump back from Quin who slowly came ever closer, but she couldn't move, worse still, she didn't want to. The logical thing to do was move, run, fight â€" anything, but her body just wouldn't obey, her mind just couldn't agree.

“I didn't walk into the wrong story, did I?” Quin asked, a mischievous smile flashing in his eyes. “That happens from time to time. I see something and I get lost. But I'm fairly certain this is the right one. Problem is, you didn't seem like you needed me there. That was already pretty hot.”

Celia seemed to suffer from the same affection as Debra. She stood utterly still behind her. She didn't move, except to put a hand an Debra's shoulder and to whisper in her ear: “What is going on here? I can't move...”

Debra shook her head. “I don't want to...”

Quin circled them, walking an eight around them and letting his hands touch them on their bare skin. Wet silver hair grazed them from time to time and send shivers down their spines. Goosebumps built on their arms and legs, their nipples became hard in the scorching heat of the late summer evening. Sweat ran down their legs, their breaths became heavy and fast.

“I really don't know why you would need this spell,” Quin mused, “But I was sent here. You seemed to do well on your own, but here I am, doing as I was told, leading you astray, enchanting you. There are so many people who could do with a bit of my spell, but I'm to help you along. I really think I ended up in the wrong story.”

“Who... who sent you?” Debra gasped, panting and without any idea how she could even still think one clear thought. There was only one topic left on her mind.

As suddenly as he had appeared, Quin was gone. “Ian,” the disembodied voice answered from around them, but they hardly heard it.

As soon as he was gone and the spell of his presence was broken, all their attention turned to each other. They embraced as suddenly as they had broken up before, pressing their mouths onto each other, biting and invading in desperate need.

Spoiler
Too impatient to strip Celia out of her clothes, Debra reached for her knife again, cutting the sweat-drenched top of her girlfriend from her back. The flimsy material teared in her aggressive hands even before she could completely cut it and she sent it flying to the dirt path at their feet. Debra reached down instead, slicing the jeans shorts open, nicking her skin in the process.

Celia wasn't any gentler. Without a knife, she had to resort to tearing and jerking. The material of Debra's t-shirt was stronger and so it dug painfully into her back.

The pain was soon forgotten when fingernails added stripes to her back, her legs, her arms, her breast. Every part of her body, of both their bodies, was soon covered in gashes and cuts, some deep enough to draw blood. They licked it away. They licked their sweat and the dirt of their journey. Kneeling down, one in front of the other, they licked their thighs.

They didn't know how they ended up on the ground, sharp stones and twigs pushing into their unprotected skin. Their limbs caressed every part of them, themselves and the other, never sure when they touched themselves and when they massaged their partner.

They rolled around in the dirt, one over the other, kissing and stroking the smooth skin of breasts and buttocks. When Celia was on top of Debra, she stopped their movement with her legs, straddling the other woman and pressing her to the ground. Moving her hips in circles, she ground her deeper into the dirt. With strong hands, she grabbed Debra's left leg and pulled it into the air, pushing her own leg underneath, squeezing it under the other woman's ass. Their vulva touched in heated passion, Celia's smooth, shaven skin nuzzling the rougher surface of Debra's pubic hair.

Panting heavily, they both inserted their fingers between the labia, massaging themselves and the other in equal measures. Celia's free hand found Debra's nipples, squeezing them in the same rhythm she used with the other hand.

Just a short time later, their bodies couldn't take the combination of lust and magic any longer. The half involuntary, half fulfilling reaction, building up to an unimaginable climax, reached them at the same time. Spent, exhausted and out of breath, they fell backwards, their vulva still touching, their legs still entwined. With a look of horror and a content smile on her lips, Celia looked at Debra for a moment before she fell back on the ground and the clothes strewn around them, and fell asleep.
[close]

For a while, Debra just lay on the ground, not moving, looking up at the sky that slowly turned red, unseeing and unwilling to see. It took her a moment, but then she untangled her legs from Celia and sat cross-legged on the ground. Sweat covered her naked body. Slowly, she petted the equally sweaty form of her girlfriend. Tears filled her eyes and bile rose in her throat. She jumped up from the ground as fast as she could and ran to the edge of the forest, throwing up into the undergrowth.

Ian. She hadn't forgotten. She had heard the word before the spell got too strong. This was Ian's doing, her ex Ian. He couldn't take it that she had left him and then got together with a woman.

She took her bottle of water and drenched her destroyed shirt, then she cleaned herself, washing the sweat away, hoping that the humid air would replace it with new, different, cleaner sweat in no time at all.

Can I ever look the same way at you again? Tears streamed down her face. Her hands were shaking. We did nothing we wouldn't do normally. If Quin hadn't intervened, we might have done exactly the same. But...

She tried to lie down and to sleep, but after a few seconds she always sat up again, looking at a naked body that she loved and couldn't love. She just couldn't see it the same way like before. She couldn't imagine caressing her again, loving her again. She couldn't imaging allowing Celia to love her ever again.

Light snoring that usually lulled her to sleep, kept her awake now.

I have to try. We have to try. She had no choice. Whatever kind of creature Quin was, however Ian had made him use his magic on them, he had destroyed something. We had no choice.

The next morning, Celia stretched in a way that Debra would have found inviting any other day. She turned to Debra, blinked sleep from her eyes and whispered: “I had the weirdest dream last night.”

Debra fought back tears that started to built again, or had never stopped to swim on the surface of her will. It wasn't a dream. “Don't tell me about it. I don't like weird dreams.” And please forget it ever happened.

Mandle


Baron

Nice!  With three submissions we have a genuine competition now.  Hopefully we'll get a few last minute submissions.  Ponch, for example, hasn't logged in for two weeks: the only plausible explanation is that he's doing research for his story submission at Band Camp.:=  And who knows, maybe some of our other regulars or even a newcomer might submit something crazy-awesome to shake things up.  Diaphanous tents, anyone? ;)

As an incentive, I'm giving you a one day extension.  Not because I'm nice, but because I'm actually going camping.  Living the dream, man!  If I don't make it out of the bush I hereby nominate WHAM to administer the competition, or if he makes a submission in my absence then JudasFM, and if she also makes a submission then I nominate icey games because that guy's clearly got the energy to kick this competition up a notch. :)

See you all in a few days!

Keep Writing!

Mandle

I've had some feedback from my entry where it seems the ending may not be clear concerning what happened over the whole story arc...

But no matter how many times I re-read my story I can't see where the confusion stems from...

If anyone who has read my entry could maybe PM me with their version of what happened (or to just say they have no idea) I would be a very happy camper...


Ponch

Quote from: Baron on Sun 07/08/2016 02:35:25
Ponch, for example, hasn't logged in for two weeks: the only plausible explanation is that he's doing research for his story submission at Band Camp.:=
Ponch is in the process of moving. Ponch is living out of boxes and has no time to write or to speak about himself in anything other than the third person. :=

Sinitrena

Quote from: Mandle on Sun 07/08/2016 17:55:00
I've had some feedback from my entry where it seems the ending may not be clear concerning what happened over the whole story arc...

Really? I think it's absolutely clear what happened. No confusion at all.
I usually only post any feedback while voting, but I'll make an exception:
Spoiler
For me it's obvious that some years ago (unspecified) a child (the narrator) killed his friends, maybe creating an urban legend in the process, maybe acting according to one (a book is mentioned, but it's not completely clear how much of a legend the story of Grabberman already was). Barry thought they were playing a game, the narrator took it a little more serious, so to speak. Years later, he (or she, it's theoretically possible, though unlikely) lays in wait, spying on a different group of kids, who play the Grabberman game, ready to kill them too. That's in the last hidden part.
[close]

Mandle

Whew, Sinitrena...That's exactly it. Thanks for taking the time to reassure me because I really didn't want to change anything. When I wrote the story I self-edited it quite a few times, pruning out all the bits I felt were redundant or just unneeded: all the parts that I thought would feel to the reader like: "ahem...this is now me, the writer, explaining the story to you, instead of letting the protagonist tell it..."

I thought I might have gone too far, so thanks again for showing me that I hadn't. :)

Spoiler
Oh, and yes, to answer one of your kinda questions: the idea was that this long-ago incident promoted the Grabberman from just a story in some kids' book to a full-blown urban legend, and that the protagonist (presumably after years of law-enforced therapy and getting very good at pretending to become sane) becomes the Grabberman himself, a serial killer of children who plays by the rules of the story.

In hindsight, I guess some of the inspiration came from that real-life case a few years ago where two little girls tried to stab their friend to death because they believed that doing so would summon Slenderman and he would take them away to live with him, but I wasn't consciously thinking about that case while writing the story. Weird, huh?
[close]

Stupot

Yet again I've made a FWC promise that I coukdnt keep.

I was going to be a show-off and started working on a little semi-interactuve Twine story based on my time in the cub scouts (and not enjoying it very much because I was a shy kid pushed into it by my mum]. I was meant to bring my laptop to work to try and finish it on my breaks but I forgot and I won't have time to finished it before going to Taiwan on Wednesday. I might just upload what I've got so far, but it won't be complete.

@Mandle
Spoiler
I pretty much had the same thoughts as Sinitrena, but I didnt make the connection that he was the original Grabberman who started the urban legend.
[close]

Baron

Quote from: Stupot+ on Mon 08/08/2016 07:21:33
I was going to be a show-off and started working on a little semi-interactuve Twine story based on my time in the cub scouts (and not enjoying it very much because I was a shy kid pushed into it by my mum].

Akayla, we'll do our best...dub, dub, dub....  Oh man, that takes me back.  Where would you learn to smoke cigarettes and cuss like a sailor if not in Cub Scouts? (roll)  I blame your sixer....:=

24 more hours!

Mandle

Quote from: Baron on Wed 10/08/2016 04:06:43
Where would you learn to smoke cigarettes and cuss like a sailor if not in Cub Scouts? (roll)

Our cub scouts leader was an alcholic guy who came up with the best game ever:

He gave us about $3 per team and then we had to go out and flip a coin at every intersection to determine which way to go...

He would come out in his car, drunk off his ass, and pick up teams that had gone too far to get the 3 buck taxi fare back...

I learnt how to steal milk from the early deliveries on one of our outings...I doubt there is a badge for such though...

Baron

Quote from: Mandle on Wed 10/08/2016 17:19:55
Our cub scouts leader was an alcholic guy who came up with the best game ever:

Yeah, I'm pretty sure some of our leaders were there because the judge told them they had to do community service.... (roll)

But this discussion digresses.  It is VOTING TIME!  Our participants are, in order of entry:

kconan with Henry Mountain Mayhem
Mandle with The Story of the Seven Steps
Sinitrena with Late Summer's Dream
Stupot+ with Cub's Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse
Ponch with The Unwritten Memoirs of Band Camp

OK, so the last two submissions weren't actually written, but we can imagine that both would have been pretty entertaining. (nod)

As promised, we will be voting on the categories published in the OP, namely:

Best Character: the most believable/captivating/magnetic/unique character
Best Setting: the most vivid background world, or most gripping atmosphere (i.e. nature in all it's harsh reality or haunting unknowability)
Best Plot: the best organized, coherent and well-executed story with appropriate pacing, climax, etc.
Best Word Choice: the technical art of combining words in a memorable way
Best Natural Obstacle: What was the best curve-ball that nature threw at our heroes?
Most Substantive: Which story best reveals a lesson about humanity or the world around us?

Voting runs until Saturday August 13.  Happy reading, and good luck to all (actual) participants. :=


selmiak

sorry, wrong topic, but then again, I'll vote here later :D

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