Messages

Correct!  It couldn't have been that hard, if CaptainD mostly solved it with an exploded brain.

Next!

Oh c'mon, Ponch!  I barely mentioned the setting, and Sinitrena wove an entire world of magic, politics and revolution!  There's no way my setting beat her setting: you're just doing the opposite of kconan for the sake of keeping this competition tied up like a knot! 

If I didn't know you to be a gold-hearted gentleman, I'd suspect some sort of hidden, anti-category voting agenda behind your machinations, sir!  Notwithstanding my paranoia of counter-revolutionaries lurking behind every fence and barn door, I nevertheless implore you to modify your vote-post to give good Sinitrena her due as a creative writer.

Captain D is almost there (he is actually half correct).

hint:

Spoiler

What are you doing if you are unpulling a nail?

[close]

BOOM!

[Best Character:]

The story is not scary.

Well, I thought the idea of an earwax vampire was scary....

My votes:

Best Character: Sinitrena for Ralluy and her pensiveness.  I was a little sad that she never acted on her convictions, though.  But one does get the sense that she might after the end of the story.
Best Plot: Sinitrena for a suspenseful story of magic and mystery.
Best Atmosphere: Sinitrena for the feeling of merry abandon at the beginning of the story, creepy eeriness in the middle, and depressing hopelessness at the end.  An extra nod for her foggy night descriptions, which really added to the wonder of the march of the skeletons.  I actually mistakenly read her second post first without realising it, and was therefore thrown into a mist-shrouded confusion just as the townsfolk would have woken to: I was a little sad when I reread from the beginning and the chaos and wonder of that part of the story was spoiled by my knowledge of what was actually going on (since I had already read the ending). 
Best Setting: Sinitrena for pure awesomeness!   I loved the world back-story, the strange customs (ie "burial" rituals), and the quirks of the magocracy (ie can't have kids, but must adopt those with natural magical talents).  Once again I would have loved to see the world expanded even further, but that would logically take a whole novel....
Best Word Choice/Style Sinitrena: nothing over the top, but the description of the foggy night stands out in my mind, especially from my first reading.
Most Scary: Sinitrena: Well, the story itself wasn't really terrifying, but the subtle commentary on human nature certainly was.  The seven deadly sins (greed, sloth, wrath, envy, pride, lust & gluttony) are supposedly the root of all evil, but Sinitrena makes a compelling case for fear being the true root.  The seven deadly sins corrupt the morally and ethically weak, but it is through fear that decent people are truly capable of horrific actions, and that is when the whole project of civilization is truly in jeopardy.  Thought provoking stuff.

Good read Sinitrena!  And good luck!

[No longer not unpulling nails out softly (4,5)]

Since my fearsome reasoning was instrumental in the solution I'm just gonna sidle in here and offer a new cryptic clue.

No longer not unpulling nails out softly (4,5)

Er.....  Don't we get to vote?  I know who I'm voting for. 

[Limited metal, then once round with the wooden spoon after failing to show respect (7,8)]

...and from the other side means you have to reverse it: nis.

Wouldn't the letters be backwards if you saw them from the other side?  

Limited metal, then once round with the wooden spoon after failing to show respect  (7,8)

For some reason I'm thinking nursery rhyme here, like when the dish and the spoon ran away together (disrespectfully eloping).  But once around with the bride is traditionally with her father, I believe, so that got me to thinking about the spoon's progenitors.  It seems to me that a spoon is probably the lineal descendent of a broom handle (for reaching things) and a bucket (for scooping things).  Now a broom handle is very phallic, so it was probably the father figure (and femininity has historically been represented by vessels, thus the bucket is the mother).  But the clue also implies action, i.e. a verb, so the "handle" becomes "handling".

Now, back to the beginning.  Limited metal is clearly an obscure reference to CADAVER, a 1990s death metal band from Norway who famously incorporated as a business.  Thus "Limited metal" is really "metal Ltd." or Cadaver Inc.  Thus my answer is:

Spoiler

Cadaver handling

[close]

Should I just presume that I got it right and post the next one, or wait for CaptainD to verify?

...but looking at the other entries kind of put me off

In a good way, right? 

Would it sound self-interested to speculate that no one else is coming to this party?  I say we lock the doors and bust out the Bananagrams and the whiskey!

That's life.

I'm just going to pull this out of a hidden orifice and hope I get lucky....

Spoiler

LAPASET -the obscure and defunct Finnish Mittens gathering!  LAP = Feline's Heaven and SET = what you do with your couch onto a telephone directory to make up for a wobbly and/or missing leg

[close]

Spoiler

Gord2?

[close]

....I don't get it.

With the toilet paper, the bowl, the square outline and overall scale, at first glance I thought I had acquired a new toilet....

"Look Ponch!  No hands!"   

The Seer of Orray

   The shrieking began at midnight.

   Slowly candles were lit and lamps turned up as the guests and residents of Orray Manor groggily stumbled to their feet in search of the source of the commotion.  They found it, in the drawing room, in the person Miss Alyned, the young maid.  She was white as the surrounding blizzard that bound them all within that opulent country house, and as hysterical as if she'd just polished the silverware of the devil himself.

   There were nine of them, including the shrieking young woman.  Dr. Bumbleworth, a kindly gentleman of first rate disposition and rather less esteemed intellect, soon mercifully sedated her with an injection from his medical bag.

   â€œWhat the devil is going on here?” demanded Colonel Humus, and ex-military man whose normally brusque manner had a cranky edge to it at this time of night.

   â€œThe poor thing looks as if she'd seen a ghost,” muttered professor Theodore Thursten III, another guest at the manor, although his eyes belied curiosity more than empathy.  The professor was not often found outside the library due to his professional preoccupation with the arcane and the occult, so this real-world manifestation of a most mysterious incident was obviously a great opportunity for him.

   â€œCabernut!” barked Lady Orray to summon her butler.  She was as old and twisted as driftwood stranded in the desert, and had the delicate temperament of a badger with an ulcer.  And she ran Orray Manor rather like the Queen of Hearts might; indeed, given her age she may well have been an inspiration for the character to the late Lewis Carroll.  “Cabernut!  Why are we employing this hysterical creature?  When she comes to I want her dismissed immediately!”

   â€œAye, Mum,” the butler pandered sycophantically.  He still wasn't entirely certain whether this episode was real or just another drunken hallucination, but it was best to play it safe just in case.

   â€œYou'll have to move her, too,” commanded Berty Hotspurt, Lady Orray's distant nephew and presumed heir to the family fortune.  “And don't just roll her behind the tapestry.”  Nature had not endowed Berty very impressively, least of all with brains.  But you didn't need brains if you had money.  Which he didn't.  But he might, soon.  Maybe.

   â€œDon't you think it might harm her?” asked his school-chum Rolly Pauperton.  Rolly meant well, especially when it might bring him some advantage.  And in his opinion this pretty housemaid was definitely worth taking advantage of.

   â€œOh Rolly, don't be such a bore,” crooned Milly Upwell, his chum Berty's fiancé and an aspiring socialite.  Her face was pasted with wrinkle-preventing mud, but a cigarette burned counter-productively at the end of her elegant holder.  With an affected yawn she turned to go back to bed.

   â€œWhat's this?” asked Dr. Bumbleworth from his knees as he examined the victim for wounds.  He pointed out a strange set of parallel marks on right side of the maid's swan-like neck.  “This girl has definitely been assaulted,” he concluded.  “And given the isolation of this house due to the winter storm, I would wager that the perpetrator is someone in this room!”

   The stunned silence began at quarter past midnight.

*   *   *   *   *   *

   â€œI'm telling you, Dr. Bumbleworth,” Professor Thursten was saying.  “It has all the hallmarks of a werewolf -or possibly vampire- attack.  Look at this arcane text, man!”

   But Dr. Bumbleworth was more interested in the second victim on the dining room table.  Rolly Pauperton was hollering like a mad-man, cradling his own head as if his brains were trying to burst out of his skull in some sort of volcanic episode.

   The storm still raged outside, although it was morning now and the spooky shadows of the previous evening were now banished by the all pervasive pallor of the bleak daylight straining through the icy windows.  Again the whole company was gathered together, but now they were fully dressed and ready for their breakfast.

   â€œWhen I was young enough to make social calls,” commented Lady Orray, “it was considered ill-mannered to roll about in the apple marmalade.”

   â€œHe's out of his head!” proclaimed Colonel Humus, grabbing an uncrushed breakfast bun from beneath the thrashing limbs of the young dandy.

   Dr. Bumbleworth sedated the writhing Rolly Pauperton just as he had Miss Alyned.  “Observe,” he said, indicating the marks on the young man's neck.  “Exactly the same pattern as on the housemaid.”

        "What about all the dirt all over his face?" asked Professor Thursten.  "It's like his head was buried ritualistically...."

   Milly Upwell bit her lip self-consciously, but in the intensity of the moment nobody noticed.  Berty Hotspurt held his fiancé closer.  “Do you think it's contagious?”

   Dr. Bumbleworth furrowed his brow.  “No, no, no.  Weren't you listening last night?”

   There was a bunch of shuffling of feet.  Lady Orray mumbled something about the importance of a punctual breakfast.  Dr. Bumbleworth continued: “This is not some disease.  Nor is it some sort of supernatural presence,” he stated, forestalling Professor Thursten's interjection.  “The wounds on Rolly Pauperton and Miss Alyned are consistent with a physical attack.  Given that we are house-bound by this fearsome winter storm, the only logical conclusion is that it is someone in this very room who is perpetrating these ghoulish attacks!”

   â€œBut, logically....” Berty Hotspurt interrupted, trying very hard to use his brain. “Logically it was someone in the room last night as well.  But it couldn't have been ol' Rolly now could it?”

   â€œUnless he faked it,” Milly added, sowing the seeds of doubt in Berty's already much furrowed field.  “He always was fond of a lark.”

   â€œNonsense!” bellowed Colonel Humus.  “I once had a whole battalion of men thrashed to within an inch of their lives for faking wounds, and I must say these marks appear to be genuine!”  Then he rolled the unfortunate Rolly right off the table to reach the cream for his tea.

   â€œThen it must be one of us,” concluded Dr. Bumbleworth.  “And who here doesn't have some motive or other?  Berty Hotspurt, heir presumptive to your great-great-aunt's fortune: perhaps you thought you could scare the old bird to death with these frightful antics?”  There was a collection of gasps from the gathered company.

   â€œBut what about Colonel Humus?” Berty shot back.  “Gold-digging suitor to my sweet old auntie?  What better way to get her to marry him than to make her feel insecure in her own house?”

   â€œB-what?!?” shouted the colonel, spitting hot tea all over the poor butler.  “What about Miss Milly Upwell, your fiancé, who's only using you and half the other men in this house to lustfully mount the social ladder!”

   Milly Upwell blushed slightly despite herself, but quickly diverted the company's attention.  “What about the mysterious Professor Theodore Thursten III, social pariah and certified quack?  Isn't it just a little convenient that vampire-like attacks crop up in the first house off campus that he has visited in twenty years?”

   The professor guffawed dismissively.  “What about Cabernut, the perpetually intoxicated butler?  He's had a lifetime of loathing everyone who's set foot through that door, and now he's finally snapped like the tamper-proof cap of a cheap bottle of wine!”

   Cabernut hiccoughed and swayed slightly.  Were they accusing him of something?  Better think up something fast....  “What about....” he began, trying to point out one of the dozens of people circling about him,  “him!”  Cabernut squinted with determination to make out who exactly it was he had accused.  It looked like an old portrait on the wall, or maybe the stuffed walrus in the conservatory....

   â€œMe?” asked Dr. Bumbleworth.  “I assure you, sir, that I am a first rate gentleman!”

   Why was the walrus barking at him?  Cabernut squinted harder and advanced unsteadily towards his adversary.  “You!  You did it for the free fish and mating opportunities in the rookery!”

   Everyone gasped again, except for Milly Upwell who bit her lip even tighter.

   Dr. Bumbleworth drew himself up.  “Well, perhaps it was even Lady Orray herself!  Tired of the teeming throngs of ne'er-do-wells and hangers-on that storm her threshold every season, she has finally struck back with guile and venom!”

   Lady Orray did not respond until she had finished chewing her breakfast sausage and carefully put down her cutlery.  “My dear doctor,” she said with aristocratic snideness, “you have all the imagination of an intestinal parasite!”

   â€œEvidence!” Colonel Humus roared.  “We need evidence!”  He kicked poor Rolly on the floor out of the way so that he could access the scones.  “And where's the bloody butter?”

   The plot thickened.

*   *   *   *   *

   It happened to Professor Thursten and Milly Upwell next.  They were found entangled together in the pantry, moaning and wailing and clutching at their heads.

   â€œWell at least this time they've got the neck marks as an excuse,” shrugged Berty Hotspurt, taking a drink from Cabernut's platter.  Cabernut took one himself, now that everyone else was distracted by the spectacle in front of them.

   â€œThe perpetrator has clearly escalated their activities,” Dr. Bumbleworth concluded.  “Observe the ripped clothing and gymnastic-like contortions of the female victim.  It must have taken quite a bit of extra effort to pose her in that position.”

   Berty swallowed his drink all in one gulp.  Colonel Humus and Cabernut the Butler just exchanged knowing glances.

   â€œThey look like two snakes got tangled together in a cotton gin,” Lady Orray opined.

   â€œHave any of the other victims come to yet?” Colonel Humus shouted, reaching through the contorted duo to claim a bottle of port from the pantry.

   â€œNo,” Dr. Bumbleworth responded.  “Although the outward evidence of attack is limited to the claw like marks on the neck, all the victims seem to be suffering from some sort of extreme head affliction.  Without thorough sedation the slightest noise or tremor sends them into yet another agonizing spasm.  None has been able to communicate at all about the nature of the attack.”  He reached into the pantry to jab the latest victims with sedative.  “Soon I will run out of this medication,” he mused, “And then the victims will be left to suffer.”

   â€œNot to mention the rest of the household,” Lady Orray complained, rubbing her temples.

   â€œIf only these confounded snows would abate!” Colonel Humus lamented.  “Then we might be able to force some of the ice and dump them out the window!”

   â€œWhy the heads, though?” wondered Berty Hotspurt out loud.  “Are we dealing with some sort of brain-slurping zombie here?”

   Dr. Bumbleworth scoffed, but then was pensive.  “Perhaps we should read through Professor Thursten's papers and see what the old boy was all about, after all.”

   The snow kept falling.

*   *   *   *   *

   â€œNothing,” Berty said, tossing the remaining papers from his stack onto Professor Thursten's bed.  Perhaps they should have taken him and his fiancé out of the pantry?  Maybe he should have learned to read before volunteering to go through the papers?  It was all too much for him right now.  “You?”

   The drunken butler was slouched against the bureau, giggling quietly to himself.

   â€œWhat's this?” asked Dr. Bumbleworth, opening a folder of newspaper clippings.  “They appear to document a strange affliction in the surrounding countryside.  Men and women going out of their heads mysteriously.  And look at the dates!  Do you realize what this means?”

   Berty stared blankly and nodded.  He was even worse with numbers than he was with letters.  Cabernut the butler stared blankly too.

   â€œCome on man!” Dr. Bumbleworth called, grabbing Berty by the collar.  “We don't have a moment to lose!”
   
*   *   *   *   *

   Dr. Bumbleworth huffed as he mounted the last of the stairs.  Behind him the butler had passed out on the steps, while the brilliant Berty Hotspurt had gotten lost somewhere in the corridor below.  Nevermind them, though.  He, Dr. Bumbleworth had solved the mystery, and was now prepared to face the monster himself.  Steadying his nerves, he turned the knob in front of him and opened the door.

   Colonel Humus stared vacantly at him and began to bellow nonsensically.  Attached to the side of his head, latched on by the neck with her great talon-like fingernails, was Lady Orray herself.  “Oh, I get it now,” Dr. Bumbleworth said with realization.  “You're an ear-wax vampire!”

   In an instant the old lady had released the colonel and pounced upon the hapless doctor.

   On the stairs Cabernut the Butler came to enough to giggle to himself once more.

   Berty Hotspurt wondered why there was a bathtub in the kitchen now.

   And when the snows finally stopped, the entire house echoed to the shrieks and moans of Lady Orray's unsedated victims.

~fin~
   

Faerieevenstar has it!

[(6)]

Pro Confusion (6)

It is true, Mandle has unravelled my [possibly overly] cryptic mystery!

No correct answers yet, although Adeel is kinda right (but on the wrong word).  Up till now we've had a bit of a theme going in terms of the answers....

Blade Runner?