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Yrolg

Yrolg

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Contest: 100 Word Story Contest!
Host: Mod Tron
Score: 89
The woman stood, tentatively, wary of the great dangers which imposed upon the surrounding lands. She turned, slow and steady, to face the crowd, who, in turn, created an instantaneous hush, whence an eerie silence came.
She was brunette in hair, and wan in almost invisible skin, and she addressed the crowd imperiously: “I am your queen, but I am not your ruler. You are my people, as am I yours. I tell you assembled now of the grea—“She was cut off - jagged arrow protruding from her pallid red throat.
“Countrymen!”, announced the assassin, “I am your new king!”

06-Apr-2008 00:42:13 - Last edited on 21-Aug-2008 07:01:27 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
And as the woman stood fierce and passive, as unmoving as a granite boulder, and as powerful as the forces which made it, there came an aura of unprecedented beauty and awe which enveloped all surrounding lands, and diffused into the cold rock swiftly and subtly. She stood there, knowing, seeing, and feeling all, expecting it to be just as it was, no more nor less. She was beautifully awful, terribly magnificent, and overall was she to be the image of the heavens for eons to come.

She was the sole life of the world, and yet she was not alone. She was the mother, the creator, she was Mother Nature herself. So had she come to the world, and so had it blossomed. So had it raged upon her work, and so had had she repaid it.
A single arrow, flung of shear desperation, sailed toward the goddess.

06-Apr-2008 00:42:14 - Last edited on 21-Aug-2008 07:01:50 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
To commit a crime, in my world, is to accept the punishment. To repent your crime for all eternity will be your punishment, life everlasting, and agony ever present. Speak to me now, who has committed such treason, as to attempt to slay me, your creator and master, your life source? Speak to me, and I may forgive your lapse of judgment, and give a more favorable punishment.”
When no reply was forthcoming, the great figure arose from the ground, levitating with a terrible aura of execrable abhorrence emanating from her. Her eyes changed from their lightning-blue shade to a much more sinister scarlet. Her hair flew from her face and enveloped her head in a torrent of unimaginable ferocity. The pale skies turned dark, not a light was seen, and not a sound heard.
“If you will not be fair with me,” said the goddess, “I shall forsake freedom for you. One of you committed this crime and that one must not live further with himself. I give you but one more chance at freedom – he who has committed the crime, step forth! Claim your prize!” An evil cackle emanated not from her, but rather from the earth. The ground upon which the crowd kneeled erupted into a series of violent seizures, and the congregation was strewn about, chaotically.

06-Apr-2008 00:42:14 - Last edited on 21-Aug-2008 07:02:11 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Contest: Valour - A Story Competition
Host: Mod Tron
Score: 93/100
~ The only true murder is the killing of the human spirit ~
Abuse and torment plagued her mind; endless and persistent. She was enduring the worst of the tormentations thrown at her on the basis of a single hope – the idea that she might, one day, escape from the abysmally hellish prison she was trapped within.

She pleaded for that day endlessly, but the fiend would not oblige her.

She was bound to an eternal and heinous curse; a plight which no being should ever endure - ‘life unending’, though such existence was far from life. By doing so, the maiden had done what so many wish to: she had defeated Death.
But to her, the conqueror of Death, the pantheonic quintessence of immortality, – was it worth it? Was the persistent spiritual pain, the witnessing of loved ones dying, crushing her soul for perpetuity, a success? The question loomed within her mind, a foreign implantation:
~ If winning was such agony, wouldn’t she rather lose, and instead face the black curtain of death....~

Yes! Let it come and present itself so that she may worship it; so that it could consume her; relieve her of this oppressive tyranny – this totalitarian society of her, her soul, and her never-ending pain.
Please, just let it be over! But she knew it would not ever be: Death was a coward. The heartless fiend haunted only those who feared it – never venturing to those who needed it most.

06-Apr-2008 00:42:16 - Last edited on 21-Aug-2008 07:06:52 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Now, countless ages into her repression, her last hope, her last phantasmagoric delusion, faded into nothingness, coinciding with the death of her friends and family – yet never her. Should Death have never held her in its sadistic craze, what would have befallen her?
Would she have died with the plague which killed her family, or at war, with her friends? Had she survived even that carnival of Death, would she have died in halcyon days? What torments would have befallen her? It did not matter - even if they were worse than the most heinous of mortal crimes, it could not compare to this, could it?

No, it could not, and she drew inspiration from this, that she might suffer endlessly so that those whom carried her heart would not.
In this, she found hope: Death had not come to her, she had come to it and demanded its adherence to *her* demands. The inevitable force which drives the world and its munificence – she was its conqueror!
The question remained:
~ If winning was to be such agony, wouldn't she rather lose and face the black curtain of Death, allowing countless others to take her place? ~
No! She would not barter personal gain in exchange for the sacrifice of the world. She would give her one life, her minor influence upon the world, to ensure that others would not.
She had played Death’s game long enough; it was high time she won.

06-Apr-2008 00:42:17 - Last edited on 21-Aug-2008 07:03:54 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Competition: Betrayal - Grand Finale
Host: Mod Tron
Score: Not Given
The night was velvety soft in its cushioned glow, an onyx stone, waiting to be looked upon, in its beauty; a violet-black sky, strewn across with diamond constellations, chasing the shadows into the eerie corners of the bulwark, where the sentries marched valiantly, saving grace in their phantasmagoria.
A man approached the entrance to the ancient fortress, wearily dodging the protruding trees and shrubbery of the courtyard and antechamber. Upon reaching the door, he opened it, slow, steady, and careful, and further permeated the rounded darkness of the keep, maintaining the silence in his soundless steps upon the terrazzo.
His long, plain black robe fell barely to his ankles, and did not flutter during his flight to the master-bedroom, concealing the blood-stained stiletto from the majesty of what little light floated in through the window, and wrapping itself like a daemonic cocoon, its gossamer fibers glinting, a great abyss, devouring the moonlight.
Past the taffeta, the profligate paraphernalia, and further past the obsolescent artworks which all adorned the narrowing walls, into the winding stairwell, ever closer to that prehensile beast, the fair-weathered quixote of betrayal.
The intruder arrived at the first landing, observing its opaqueness, and its obscurities, with scrutiny. Stealing farther in, an ornate altar was recognizable, candles trailing smoke from the night's rituals. Once finished with his meticulous reconnaissance, the whirlpool of blackness moved on, farther up the tower, always nearing his target.
The black speck atop the berfrei moved with surreptitious strides, relishing in the daemonic glory of the eerily extravagant night, closing in upon the door like a roc upon some hapless animal. Once reaching the rather chaste door, he, again, cautiously slid the door open, slowly sweeping it into the hall.

06-Apr-2008 00:45:50 - Last edited on 21-Aug-2008 07:06:36 by Yrolg

Yrolg

Yrolg

Posts: 25,296 Sapphire Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Moving through the anteroom and into the bedchamber, and seeing the insidious fiend, supine in his sleep, the man slid the stiletto from his vestment, and flitted through the shadows to the intestatic dastard. Brandishing the dagger, the man grabbed hold of the décolletage of the quisling’* exuberant camisia, wresting him from his slumber.
“Wha-what do you want?” yelped the startled bureaucrat.
“My wife”
And as he slid his knife closer and closer to the traitor’s heart, he faltered. Would killing this Philistine bring his wife back into his empty arms * his empty heart?
And with a betrayal of conscience, the man absoncded the life of misery, and reunited with his long forgotten love.

06-Apr-2008 00:45:55 - Last edited on 21-Aug-2008 07:05:10 by Yrolg

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