The Chorrol Community Contest 2013 Entry Thread Options

[Colonel Mustard]

Voting is now closed. Do not send me more votes, you peons.

First of all, to make this as obvious as possible:

DO NOT POST IN THIS THREAD!! AT ALL!

Thank you

Now, I'm posting all of the stories up anonymously, and will be taking votes for the next two weeks. Since everyone found the whole timezone thing confusing, to make it as simple as possible voting closes the moment your day becomes the 19th of April. Send your votes to me via PM, and I'll keep a running tally up here.

Also, as I was going for a final shortlist of five stories, I've decided that as only six were entered in the end, I'm posting up all six of them as it just seems like a bit of a dick move to leave one person's entry out in the cold.


Winstad Manor votes: 3
Ang Anghel at ang Demonio votes: 2
A Question of Guilt votes: 2
The Tenth Divine votes: 2
Absolution votes: 2

Good luck to all contestants!

This post has been edited by Colonel Mustard: Apr 20 2013, 07:27 PM

[Colonel Mustard]

Entry 5



The rumble of the thunder shook the rafters of the house. Keeping in nearly perfect time with the sound, a flash of lightening lit up the darkened room, illuminating the toys of a child eerily. Shadows froze against the walls in horrendous forms of gaping maws and claws, black against the rough wood. Teddy bears became vicious man-eaters, the rocking horse against the wall became a dragon, and the paper dolls hanging in front of the window screamed in pain.

Ana shrieked, pulling the covers against herself. Branches scraped against the glass panels of her window, making the clawed monsters on the walls screech for her blood. She wailed and hid herself beneath the covers.

Her door burst open, her plump nanny wildly looking around the room. Seeing the small child shivering beneath the blankets in fear, she sighed, shaking her head. Most children, by the age of five, have the same fear Ana did. But hers seemed to manifest itself more violently. Ana saw and heard things that weren't there, felt people that were no longer alive, smelled things long since passed.

Ana peeked out from the covers, her brown eyes wide and brimming with tears. She reached for her nanny, and the plump Nord woman hugged the Redgaurd child.

"Hush, my dear, hush," she soothed as Ana clung to her, sobbing. "It's just thunder and lightening, nothing more."

"No," Ana sniffed. She wiped the snot from her nose onto her nanny's shoulder. Her nanny sighed softly, rolling her eyes. "There were monsters, and they were coming to get me!"

As if to punctuate her statement, there was a loud thump on the door. Ana ripped herself from the grasp of her nanny and slid beneath the bed. Another three thumps resonated throughout the small home.

"Don't answer the door!" A flash of lightening lit up the room, paling the young Redguard girl's face. The Nord woman sighed, shaking her head. A few loose strands of hair fell into her face. She tucked them behind her ear and turned towards the door.

"It's probably your father," she said lightly. "Back from the Imperial City."

As she stepped through the door, Ana watched the large woman's hips sashay through the door, leaving it open. Ana clenched her fists, hoping her daydreams weren't true this time. Her hopes were cut short as a scream sliced the air.

Ana shrank against the wall under her bed, clamping back her own scream with her small hands. She heard her blows landing dully against her nanny's body as she shrieked and begged for mercy.

"Who else is here?" the man's voice, gravelly with anger was joined in a chorus of breaking glass and snapping wood. Ana's nanny shrieked in pain as the muted sound of a slap traveled across the house. The sound of fabric ripping was covered by the booming voice of the thunder.

"N-no one! I'm the only one! I'm just a maid, please, don't-"

A sound Ana had heard before suddenly wormed its way into her ears. it made her toes curl in fear and her bowels loosen. She had heard similar noises from her father's bedroom at night, when he thought Ana was asleep. He would invite Ana's nanny into his room with low murmurs and velvety chuckles, and they would both keep Ana awake for hours.

The nanny screamed, and the man laughed. He said something too low for Ana to hear, but it had her nanny begging for him to stop. Tears rolled down Ana's face as another flash of lightening illuminated the room. She gasped as a dark, lanky figure was silhouetted in her doorway. When the next flash came a second later, the figure was across her room at the window.

Ana clenched her eyes shut, her nails digging into her cheeks, barely keeping the scream out. Ecstatic groans from the other room were dwarfed by the screeches of pain from her nanny. Then all was silent, except for the gasping sobs of the wretched woman. Ana heard the sound of metal scraping against bone, the slicing and ripping of skin, then silence.

Ana's heart pounded as the seconds passed like minutes. Except for the pattering rain the thunderstorm had brought, the house, once thought safer outside the city walls, away from thieves, was completely silent. The booming sound of thunder brought a scream to her throat, forcing her hands harder against her mouth. She shook violently, her breathing ragged.

Ice cold hands snaked their way around her bare ankles, pulling her out from the bed. Her skin squeaked against the polished floor while her nails clawed against the wooden surface. She screamed, frantically flailing about like a fish out of water, gasping and gaping wide-eyed and terrified at the man pulling her from under her bed.

The man's purple mouth was pulled back in a maliciously green smile. Dirt caked his face and fingernails, leaving streaks of grime on Ana's white nightgown as he pulled her up by the front. He tossed her flailing form easily onto her bed, atop the mussed sheets.

Ana's screams were interrupted by the unmerciful grip of the man's meaty hands closing around her throat. Lightening flashed onto the terrified child's face, again illuminating the look of horror as the man strangled the life out of her.

---------------------

Rain began to fall on the cobblestone pavement of the Talos Plaza District. Haseel sprinted through the streets, narrowly avoiding a collision with several Imperials. Ducking under the awning of the Tiber Septim hotel, he shook the droplets loose and let himself in. He wiped his feet dry on the mat and walked briskly to his room.

There was a sharp knock on his door shortly after he shut it. Three taps, a second's wait, then another three. He recognized the signal and opened the door, letting a stringy fellow with slicked back blonde hair into his room. The man's bright blue eyes were lit up, glinting in a dangerous way.

"Listen, H, we ran into a problem." The Breton's thin lips twitched nervously over yellowed teeth. Haseel's expression never changed from neutral.

"What sort of problem, Dil?" Haseel shortened the man's name not out of camraderie, but necessity. Dil's already large blue eyes seemed to become even rounder.

"We lost a shipment." Dil sniffed and wiped his bulbous nose. A thin layer of sweat covered his oily skin. 'He ran here,' Haseel observed. He gave his dealer an appraising look.

"Who had the shipment last?"

"The Argonian, with the big fins on his head."

"You're not being specific."

"The red fins."

Haseel's face tightened in a scowl.

"Are you aware of how many Argonians I deal with daily? Or Khajiit? Imperials? Bretons? Orcs? Gods, even High Elves want what we're selling!"

"Ten?"

Dil recoiled from the slap the sent him reeling back a few steps. Haseel gave Dil a steely look.

"Names. Now."

"Bun-Zee." Dil lowered his head. 'One of these days, H, I'll stab you right in the back,' he thought sourly. Haseel kept his steely glare on Dil. The Breton only saw the flash a half-second before the metal was to his throat and his shirt bunched in the Redguard's fist. A thin line, as thin as a length of string, cut into his neck. The Breton's eyes bulged as Haseel smiled, his voice low and dangerous.

"You listen closely, worm. You work for ME. When I say jump, you ask 'How high?' When I say 'Tell me something,' you better be damn sure you tell me what I want to know. Otherwise, I'll skin you alive and feed your corpsemeat to the slaughterfish. Do we have an understanding?"

The Breton kept his face locked in a cool expression, in spite of the stinging on his neck. He kept the saliva building up in his mouth, wanting to spit at Haseel, and to keep him from seeing Dil swallow in fear.

"Yes," He said in a thick voice. Haseel kept his cool smile on his face as the threw the Breton backwards.

"Get out."

Dil kept the satisfaction of imagining Haseel's face when he found out the lost shipment was on its way to his house as he made his way out the door. He sauntered over to The Feed Bag in the Market District and ordered the biggest mug of beer they served.

"Celebration?" The bartender asked.

"It will be, soon," Dil said, his malicious grin spilling into his eyes over the mug of beer. The oil on his skin reflected in the light of the maps, giving his skin an eery yellow glow. The bartender quickly began to wipe the counter, pretending to find a stubborn speck of dirt far away from Dil.

-------------

Haseel urged his horse down the dirt road from the Imperial city to his house outside the city walls. The horse knew the trail well, but he refused to let his mind drift too far.

'The lost shipment was about twenty cases of skooma, each case holding around ten bottles. Each bottle was worth fourty septims, which makes the loss around-"

The horse's leg hit something, causing it to whinny and lurch. Haseel nearly lost his balance. He gripped the saddle and spotted the problem. A broken wooden crate. His dark eyes traveled up the pathway, the trail littered with empty bottles and broken crates. Haseel swayed in his seat, nausea rising in his throat. The lost shipment.

He urged the horse on, gripping its mane ungently. The mare bolted forward in a flash, and Haseel nearly keeled over by the site that greeted him.

The wicked, slanted windows of the house glared at him unblinking, its maw agape and accusing. Haseel clutched his stomach at the stench of the breath that the monster made of wooden beams blew at him. He covered his nose against the foul smell and walked inside.

Inside the beast lay the corpse of his daughter's nanny, eyes sunken in and skin pale. Blisters covered her body, and the once plump woman was now grotesquely bloated. Congealed blood pooled beneath her in a canvas of agony, her skirt above the ample hips he used to love, her undergarments strewn somewhere he did not see. He saw where a sword was thrust into her neck.

Immediately he screamed for his daughter, the hollow echoes of his voice numbly beating against the walls of the monstrosity that held the bodies of two people he loved. He found her in a similar manner as her nanny, spread on her bed, blood painting a picture of the last horrible moments of her life. Haseel grabbed the stiff body of his daughter, gagging against the stench, sobbing against the pain.

He stumbled out of the howling house, covered in rotted gore and blood. The nostrils of his horse flared as the stench reached her, but she stayed. Haseel lifted himself onto the mare and urged her towards the main road.

He came upon a Legionaire, and Haseel barely understood the words coming out of his mouth. The soldier heard the babbling of a madman covered in rotten filth, and subdued him. Haseel bawled, finally able to point the Legionaire in the direction of his house. An hour later, when the young Imperial came back, he untied Haseel, his face white. Together they rode back to the Imperial city.

-----------

Dil smiled and swirled a complimentary glass of wine from the wench across the room in the goblet. Things were about to look up for him, with Haseel on his way out of the picture. He winked at the woman, and she giggled drunkenly, her frizzy black hair matching the budding hair on her lip. Dil shrugged. He wanted what was between her legs, not what was on her face. 'Unless she does that too,' he thought to himself, allowing himself a laugh that distrubed the barkeep.

A man burst into the inn and went straight to the barkeep, slamming his hands onto the bar.

"A man just found his daughter and nanny dead in his own house!"

The barkeep looked interested. "Oh yeah?"

The Imperial nodded vigorously. "He says he knows who did it. The Watch told him to not do anytihng stupid, but he's headed here right now for a drink."

"Why wasn't he detained? How do we knows he didn't kill them?"

The Imperial gave a shrug. "He was here on business, said he only returned to find them already mutilated and long dead." The Imperial ordered a drink. "My guess is it was a deal gone wrong, maybe he was doing a side business along with what he was trading." The Imperial took a long pull on his drink, belched, and slammed his mug down. "I want to be good and drunk once he gets here. Gimme another."

Dil's hearing ebbed, the barkeep's voice barely echoed a reassuring sentiment that nothing would happen in his bar. Dil stumbled off of his stool, and a few patrons laughed and remarked he had had too many drink. He sprinted drunkenly out of the bar without paying his tab, ignoring the shouts of the angry barkeep. He slipped into an alleyway, panting.

The empty streets were lit up by the twin moons. The pale cobblestone gleamed wickedly in the moonlight. Dil's chest heaved up and down while he caught his breath.

the lonely echo of a single set of footsteps snaked its way into his hearing. Dil held his breath. The footsteps halted, and the sound of Dil's heart made him curse. He couldn't hear anything over his own heartbeat.

A high-pitched scraping sound made Dil's teeth itch. 'What IS that?'

His question was answered when he saw the form of a man with short cropped hair dragging a dagger along the wall of the building. Dil whimpered. The moonlight caught the face of the man when he turned his head towards the sound.

'Haseel.'

Dil bolted towards the main walk, screaming and sobbing. Haseel ran after him, tackling him and punching the air from his lungs. He dragged Dil to the alleyway. propping him against the wall.

"Before you die," Haseel hissed, "I want you to admit that you killed my daughter."

"What? No! I didn't-"

Haseel plunged the dagger into Dil's gut, wrenching it.

"Don't you lie you me! She was five! You sent the skooma to my home so the buyer would kill me, didn't you?" He withdrew the dagger and plunged it into Dil's leg. Dil screamed. Haseel knew he didn't have much time. He pulled the dagger out and wormed it under Dil's ribs. Dil screamed again and gurgled.

"I did it!" he gasped, his breaths shallow. The confession spilled over his lips like the blood in his lungs. "I've always hated you, and I thought you would be killed, not your daughter! I didn't know you even had one!"

"Stop right there!" The gravelly voice alerted Haseel that he had no more time left. he wrenched the dagger from Dils' lungs and stuck it in his left eye. Blood gurgled out as Dil let out a death rattle. An arrow struck out of Haseel's chest, straight through.

'I did this. I chose this. And the only forgiveness for my daughter's life is bought with my own,' he thought numbly. He dropped the dagger. he metal clanked against the cobblestone, once gleaming with a pure and serene light, now stained with the blood of two criminals.

The clank of the steel-toed guard's feet echoed loudly in Haseel's ears. Behind the guards filing in a chaotic line into the alleyway where one dead man, soon to be two, lay bleeding, he saw the briefest of silhouettes. A small girl, with brown eyes that bore into his soul, holding the hand of the women he had loved for the last two years.

With a nod and a wave, both of them were gone, leaving only Haseel and a dozen or so guards.

Haseel collapsed, breaking the shaft of the arrow. He figured he had about thirty second or less of life on Nirn, then it was off to wherever murderous skooma dealers posing as a straight-edged merchant and a loving father. He was not a religious man, and neither were his folks, but that didn't matter now. As far as he was concerned, he was forgiven.

Maybe the Void, maybe the Dreemsleeve, or Aetherius. He had no idea. The last of his thoughts were less and less coherent as he went into shock. The arrow had pierced his heart, and though he heard of miraculous individuals surviving injuries like his, he didn't want to survive. For him, the only way for him to rest in peace was to pass on.

Haseel welcomed death gladly. He breathed his last breath with a sigh of contentment.


----------------


Anyone trekking in the woods near the house outside the Imperial City heard the howls of the demon house that had once housed three people. Every time it was told, it changed. First the nanny killed her charge, then the father. Eventually the story was that the child had killed her nanny, then waited for her abusive father to get home so slaughter him.

That area of the woods became a legend in its own right. Panic-stricken youngsters and jumpy couriers would swear up and down at Weye that they could hear the outraged screams of the daughter, looking to exact her revenge on the one that had killed her, whomever that might be.

The house with the angry eyes and howling mouth was never torn down. For years it would lie in wait, its unblinking windows glaring at anyone who dared step foot onto the property. with no one to claim it, it fell into ruin, becoming a ghost of its former self. The horrors it had witnessed had tainted it, the foul stench of rot and death staining the very wood and stone used to build it.

When the last of the beams had fallen, long after the bodies were removed, no grass grew there. No animal housed itself there, and the birds never sang within earshot of the clearing.

The actions of one man, though rectified, haunted the land.

This post has been edited by Colonel Mustard: Apr 11 2013, 03:11 PM