Short Story Contest

by **Nude East Ireland** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:32 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Conserative Morality wrote:Jeez, I thought you were supposed to be the nice guy, Norstal.

Tell me, if both Maritime and Norstal are the bad cops and only Yoite is the good cop... does that mean the interrogation will fail?

Yes. Not that I care. I only entered this for shits and giggles. Besides, the story (Or, "Thing" in the judges' case) wasn't really for this, but meh.

by **Conserative Morality** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:32 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:Tell me, if both Maritime and Norstal are the bad cops and only Yoite is the good cop... does that mean the interrogation will fail?

Is Yoite a good cop?

by **Nationstatelandsville** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:33 pm

Conserative Morality wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:Tell me, if both Maritime and Norstal are the bad cops and only Yoite is the good cop... does that mean the interrogation will fail?

Is Yoite a good cop?

I can't imagine Yoite being anything but.

by **Norstal** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:34 pm

Buffett and Colbert wrote:
Norstal wrote:Style - 5/15
Too much ellipses. I do think you are trying to attempt some sort of Native American storytelling, but it just didn't work out in the end. Sorry.

Grammar/spelling - 0/5
Terrible. Really need to use proper grammar and spelling. Especially on character names.

A warning to you all: I'm not a great reader. If your story have bad spelling or grammar, it WILL be hard for me to both decipher the language you're using and understand the story.

I lol'd. So hard. I love you Norstal, but really?

What? He didn't capitalize names. It was really hard for me to discern if it was an actual water or one of the characters.

Growling in rage, White water threw herself onto the ogre as he tossed aside the limp form of the Pack leader

I didn't even know if they were werewolves or actual wolves. I had the same problem reading it as The Weimar Republic.

by **Nightkill the Emperor** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:34 pm

by **Nude East Ireland** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:35 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:There was a knock on the door

Better than mine already.

by **Nationstatelandsville** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:36 pm

Nude East Ireland wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:There was a knock on the door

Better than mine already.

There was a door at the knock.

Is that better?

by **Nude East Ireland** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:36 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Nude East Ireland wrote:Better than mine already.

There was a door at the knock.

Is that better?

Yes.

by **Astrolinium** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:38 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
There was a knock on the door of God Emperor Khan, who was currently snoring in his bed, a dazzling redhead to his left, and a dazzling blonde to his right. Picture this happy scene. Picture it well. I'm sure you're currently enjoying this vision.

I'll now inform you that the blonde and redhead are fourteen year old boys.

Anyway, the knocking was growing insufferable, so he shook himself awake, and the dark Indian man started stumbling to the door in his rather skimpy clothing, which means non-existent. He opened the door, and his assistant, Peter Davis, who was looking rather anxious. "Great Leader!" he began.

"What? Are the population skimping out on their daily prayers to me?" Khan asked, putting on some actual clothes, and grabbing his royal specter, otherwise known as a pimp cane. He also put on a great fedora. He praised himself on rocking the fedora. He also rocked a badass tux, which is what he wore.

"No, Great Leader Boss! They're actually gathering outside your castle, and they're protesting!" Peter said. "Great Leader Boss, you could have a serious issue here!"

Khan turned around, and smiled. "I have it handled." he said. He started walking on the balcony of his newly created castle, looked out to the screaming crowds, and then he grabbed a nearby microphone Peter provided from somewhere.

"OK, guys." Khan said, raising his hand. "I know times are tough. Shit's real bad. People are starving in the streets. But open your eyes. I see your eyes are open. Wear no disguise for me, and just come out into the open. When it's cold outside, am I here in vain? Hold onto the night, there will be no shame. Always, I want to be with you. And make believe with you. And live in harmony harmony, oh love. And we're not strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I. A full commitment's what I'm thinking of. You wouldn't get this from any other guy. I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling, cause I gotta make you understand."

"Cause I ain't never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. I ain't never gonna run around and desert you." he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it. Inside we both know what's been going on. We know the game and we're gonna play it. And if you ask me how I'm feeling, don't tell me you're too blind to see I ain't never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. I ain't never gonna run around and desert you. And that's a promise." he said.

The crowd was silent for a month, but the protesters began yelling again. Khan sighed. "No reasoning with some people. Peter, order for them to all be shot, will you? And send the heads to the families as a reminder."

Peter saluted. "Yessir, Great Leader Boss, sir!"

Khan went back to enjoying himself and satisfying his needs.

After a few hours, God Emperor Khan ate breakfast. This was innocent enough. He ate Honey Nut Cheerios, which was quite insidious. Nothing screams pure evil like reduced blood pressure. He also watched TV. This was nice.

The TV showed the live process of the protesters being gassed with a substance that drove them bloodthirsty and quite insane. Batshitistan could not afford traitors. God Emperor Khan thought while happily watching a man rip out another man's neck with his teeth. "Delightful, don't you think?" he asked Peter, who was obediently holding the TV remote for him.

Peter had no facial reaction. "I'm not paid to think, Great Leader Boss sir." he said, watching the screen.

God Emperor Khan smiled. "Glad you understand that. I will be changing the currency, actually."

"Oh? That'll be the third time this week then." Peter said. "The Batshitistani government using cow manure as currency always seemed odd. I'm glad you replaced it with paper airplanes. What idea do you have now, Great Leader Boss sir?" he asked, no visible emotion in his tone.

"The sexual favor."

There was a pause. Peter spoke. "You are sure of this?"

"Of course. It seems perfect." God Emperor Khan said, beaming at his brilliance.

"Oh yes, of course, Great Leader Boss sir." Peter said quickly. "I was merely considering how the exchange rate would work."

"Oh, that? I'm making all other countries illegal." God Emperor Khan said, suddenly transforming into the Incredible Hulk. "I SMASH THE COUNTRIES! I SMASH! THEY BAN ME!? I SMASH THEM ALL!"

Peter sighed. "Dear?" he said.

"TELL STUPID CLERK MAN!"

"Shut the fuck up and realize that's not going to happen." replied Peter, who was now a pretty Asian looking woman. "You were banned from the NationStates forums for three days. That's no reason to try to establish your own third world state in California." she said.

Nightkill froze and realized he had ripped his shirt apart while excitedly explaining his semi-sober rant on how he would get revenge on Max Barry and the mods. "Err...sorry about that, dear. Just got a bit overexcited." he said.

Aliana sighed. "You can use up some of that overexcitement with your new currency. I'm eager to see the exchange rate." she winked, and went back inside.

Nightkill laughed, and then he glanced across the street. Some vendor was selling sweatshirts. Nightkill realized his own were rather worn out by now.

He put on a shirt, jogged outside, and started talking to the boy selling them. "Damn good shirts." the kid said. "Damn good. Imported them from Batshitistan."

Nightkill froze. "Pardon?"

"Oh yeah. Leader's a bit nuts, but they make good shirts."

Nightkill shook his head. Just a damn coincidence. "Alright," he said, pulling out his wallet. "How much does one cost?"

"Dude, your money isn't good for these. I only accept paper airplanes."

Oh, you. Shakin' my head.

by **The Weimar Republic** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:38 pm

Marcheria wrote:Here, a quick one canon with an upcoming RP of mine. It's what got me my new girlfriend, so why the hell not?

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, a handsome young pilot was in for the shock of his life. He'd just been selected to lead a coup against his government. Sure, he was smart and all, but a coup!? He duly agreed, and in the next few days the military began to revolt. At the same time, a young woman in another part of the kingdom was quite fed up with her father. Her father was a famous admiral in the navy, and they often disagreed on multiple viewpoints. When she heard of the handsome young pilots revolt, she knew it was time to act. She gathered up some of her classmates, raided the police station for weapons and they trekked for weeks to the rebel base camp. When they arrived, she was shown to the young pilot's office. She stormed into his tent, where he was working on a speech. She had expected to smartly salute him, but she was instantly taken by his rugged looks. The pilot felt the same way, and they soon fell in love. But there was no time for it. The revolution was in full swing, and they fought together for months on end, snagging kisses on the battlefield. Then, one sunny day in May, it was all over. The Royalists had been defeated, and democracy was on its way. The night it was all over, the young woman and the pilot stood on top of the ruins of the palace, looking out over the ravaged capital, ablaze with the fires of victory. And the pilot got down on one knee and pulled out one of his spare pistol magazines. He took the young woman's hand, and shook the contents into it. But there were no bullets there. There was just a necklace, one that the pilot had carved from wood taken from a flagpole. And he asked her to marry him. And she said yes. And they were happily married, united like their new nation, and they lived happily ever after.

It's more like an outline than a short story.

by **Nightkill the Emperor** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:39 pm

Astrolinium wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
There was a knock on the door of God Emperor Khan, who was currently snoring in his bed, a dazzling redhead to his left, and a dazzling blonde to his right. Picture this happy scene. Picture it well. I'm sure you're currently enjoying this vision.

I'll now inform you that the blonde and redhead are fourteen year old boys.

Anyway, the knocking was growing insufferable, so he shook himself awake, and the dark Indian man started stumbling to the door in his rather skimpy clothing, which means non-existent. He opened the door, and his assistant, Peter Davis, who was looking rather anxious. "Great Leader!" he began.

"What? Are the population skimping out on their daily prayers to me?" Khan asked, putting on some actual clothes, and grabbing his royal specter, otherwise known as a pimp cane. He also put on a great fedora. He praised himself on rocking the fedora. He also rocked a badass tux, which is what he wore.

"No, Great Leader Boss! They're actually gathering outside your castle, and they're protesting!" Peter said. "Great Leader Boss, you could have a serious issue here!"

Khan turned around, and smiled. "I have it handled." he said. He started walking on the balcony of his newly created castle, looked out to the screaming crowds, and then he grabbed a nearby microphone Peter provided from somewhere.

"OK, guys." Khan said, raising his hand. "I know times are tough. Shit's real bad. People are starving in the streets. But open your eyes. I see your eyes are open. Wear no disguise for me, and just come out into the open. When it's cold outside, am I here in vain? Hold onto the night, there will be no shame. Always, I want to be with you. And make believe with you. And live in harmony harmony, oh love. And we're not strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I. A full commitment's what I'm thinking of. You wouldn't get this from any other guy. I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling, cause I gotta make you understand."

"Cause I ain't never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. I ain't never gonna run around and desert you." he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it. Inside we both know what's been going on. We know the game and we're gonna play it. And if you ask me how I'm feeling, don't tell me you're too blind to see I ain't never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. I ain't never gonna run around and desert you. And that's a promise." he said.

The crowd was silent for a month, but the protesters began yelling again. Khan sighed. "No reasoning with some people. Peter, order for them to all be shot, will you? And send the heads to the families as a reminder."

Peter saluted. "Yessir, Great Leader Boss, sir!"

Khan went back to enjoying himself and satisfying his needs.

After a few hours, God Emperor Khan ate breakfast. This was innocent enough. He ate Honey Nut Cheerios, which was quite insidious. Nothing screams pure evil like reduced blood pressure. He also watched TV. This was nice.

The TV showed the live process of the protesters being gassed with a substance that drove them bloodthirsty and quite insane. Batshitistan could not afford traitors. God Emperor Khan thought while happily watching a man rip out another man's neck with his teeth. "Delightful, don't you think?" he asked Peter, who was obediently holding the TV remote for him.

Peter had no facial reaction. "I'm not paid to think, Great Leader Boss sir." he said, watching the screen.

God Emperor Khan smiled. "Glad you understand that. I will be changing the currency, actually."

"Oh? That'll be the third time this week then." Peter said. "The Batshitistani government using cow manure as currency always seemed odd. I'm glad you replaced it with paper airplanes. What idea do you have now, Great Leader Boss sir?" he asked, no visible emotion in his tone.

"The sexual favor."

There was a pause. Peter spoke. "You are sure of this?"

"Of course. It seems perfect." God Emperor Khan said, beaming at his brilliance.

"Oh yes, of course, Great Leader Boss sir." Peter said quickly. "I was merely considering how the exchange rate would work."

"Oh, that? I'm making all other countries illegal." God Emperor Khan said, suddenly transforming into the Incredible Hulk. "I SMASH THE COUNTRIES! I SMASH! THEY BAN ME!? I SMASH THEM ALL!"

Peter sighed. "Dear?" he said.

"TELL STUPID CLERK MAN!"

"Shut the fuck up and realize that's not going to happen." replied Peter, who was now a pretty Asian looking woman. "You were banned from the NationStates forums for three days. That's no reason to try to establish your own third world state in California." she said.

Nightkill froze and realized he had ripped his shirt apart while excitedly explaining his semi-sober rant on how he would get revenge on Max Barry and the mods. "Err...sorry about that, dear. Just got a bit overexcited." he said.

Aliana sighed. "You can use up some of that overexcitement with your new currency. I'm eager to see the exchange rate." she winked, and went back inside.

Nightkill laughed, and then he glanced across the street. Some vendor was selling sweatshirts. Nightkill realized his own were rather worn out by now.

He put on a shirt, jogged outside, and started talking to the boy selling them. "Damn good shirts." the kid said. "Damn good. Imported them from Batshitistan."

Nightkill froze. "Pardon?"

"Oh yeah. Leader's a bit nuts, but they make good shirts."

Nightkill shook his head. Just a damn coincidence. "Alright," he said, pulling out his wallet. "How much does one cost?"

"Dude, your money isn't good for these. I only accept paper airplanes."

Oh, you. Shakin' my head.

With awe and respect, I'm sure.

by **Astrolinium** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:41 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Astrolinium wrote:
Oh, you. Shakin' my head.

With awe and respect, I'm sure.

No, shakin' it at your bastard child of Baron Harkonnen/an Author Avatar/a Self-Insert Fic/Life Embellished

by **Nightkill the Emperor** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:42 pm

Astrolinium wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:With awe and respect, I'm sure.

No, shakin' it at your bastard child of Baron Harkonnen/an Author Avatar/a Self-Insert Fic/Life Embellished

You know, I wasn't high when I wrote this. It astounds me.

by **Marcheria** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:43 pm

The Weimar Republic wrote:
Marcheria wrote:Here, a quick one canon with an upcoming RP of mine. It's what got me my new girlfriend, so why the hell not?

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, a handsome young pilot was in for the shock of his life. He'd just been selected to lead a coup against his government. Sure, he was smart and all, but a coup!? He duly agreed, and in the next few days the military began to revolt. At the same time, a young woman in another part of the kingdom was quite fed up with her father. Her father was a famous admiral in the navy, and they often disagreed on multiple viewpoints. When she heard of the handsome young pilots revolt, she knew it was time to act. She gathered up some of her classmates, raided the police station for weapons and they trekked for weeks to the rebel base camp. When they arrived, she was shown to the young pilot's office. She stormed into his tent, where he was working on a speech. She had expected to smartly salute him, but she was instantly taken by his rugged looks. The pilot felt the same way, and they soon fell in love. But there was no time for it. The revolution was in full swing, and they fought together for months on end, snagging kisses on the battlefield. Then, one sunny day in May, it was all over. The Royalists had been defeated, and democracy was on its way. The night it was all over, the young woman and the pilot stood on top of the ruins of the palace, looking out over the ravaged capital, ablaze with the fires of victory. And the pilot got down on one knee and pulled out one of his spare pistol magazines. He took the young woman's hand, and shook the contents into it. But there were no bullets there. There was just a necklace, one that the pilot had carved from wood taken from a flagpole. And he asked her to marry him. And she said yes. And they were happily married, united like their new nation, and they lived happily ever after.

It's more like an outline than a short story.

Hey, it was good enough to win me her....and her Christmas present.

by **Nightkill the Emperor** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:46 pm

I'm confident my story will get me a 9001/100.

by **Conserative Morality** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:47 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I'm confident my story will get me a 9001/100.

I'm confident my story will get a 900/100.

by **The Weimar Republic** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:48 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
There was a knock on the door of God Emperor Khan, who was currently snoring in his bed, a dazzling redhead to his left, and a dazzling blonde to his right. Picture this happy scene. Picture it well. I'm sure you're currently enjoying this vision.

I'll now inform you that the blonde and redhead are fourteen year old boys.

Anyway, the knocking was growing insufferable, so he shook himself awake, and the dark Indian man started stumbling to the door in his rather skimpy clothing, which means non-existent. He opened the door, and his assistant, Peter Davis, who was looking rather anxious. "Great Leader!" he began.

"What? Are the population skimping out on their daily prayers to me?" Khan asked, putting on some actual clothes, and grabbing his royal specter, otherwise known as a pimp cane. He also put on a great fedora. He praised himself on rocking the fedora. He also rocked a badass tux, which is what he wore.

"No, Great Leader Boss! They're actually gathering outside your castle, and they're protesting!" Peter said. "Great Leader Boss, you could have a serious issue here!"

Khan turned around, and smiled. "I have it handled." he said. He started walking on the balcony of his newly created castle, looked out to the screaming crowds, and then he grabbed a nearby microphone Peter provided from somewhere.

"OK, guys." Khan said, raising his hand. "I know times are tough. Shit's real bad. People are starving in the streets. But open your eyes. I see your eyes are open. Wear no disguise for me, and just come out into the open. When it's cold outside, am I here in vain? Hold onto the night, there will be no shame. Always, I want to be with you. And make believe with you. And live in harmony harmony, oh love. And we're not strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I. A full commitment's what I'm thinking of. You wouldn't get this from any other guy. I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling, cause I gotta make you understand."

"Cause I ain't never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. I ain't never gonna run around and desert you." he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it. Inside we both know what's been going on. We know the game and we're gonna play it. And if you ask me how I'm feeling, don't tell me you're too blind to see I ain't never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. I ain't never gonna run around and desert you. And that's a promise." he said.

The crowd was silent for a month, but the protesters began yelling again. Khan sighed. "No reasoning with some people. Peter, order for them to all be shot, will you? And send the heads to the families as a reminder. Then make sweatshirts out of their skin. I do love our sweatshirts. Keeps one warm in the winter."

Peter saluted. "Yessir, Great Leader Boss, sir!"

Khan went back to enjoying himself and satisfying his needs.

After a few hours, God Emperor Khan ate breakfast. This was innocent enough. He ate Honey Nut Cheerios, which was quite insidious. Nothing screams pure evil like reduced blood pressure. He also watched TV. This was nice.

The TV showed the live process of the protesters being gassed with a substance that drove them bloodthirsty and quite insane. Batshitistan could not afford traitors. God Emperor Khan thought while happily watching a man rip out another man's neck with his teeth. "Delightful, don't you think?" he asked Peter, who was obediently holding the TV remote for him.

Peter had no facial reaction. "I'm not paid to think, Great Leader Boss sir." he said, watching the screen.

God Emperor Khan smiled. "Glad you understand that. I will be changing the currency, actually."

"Oh? That'll be the third time this week then." Peter said. "The Batshitistani government using cow manure as currency always seemed odd. I'm glad you replaced it with paper airplanes. What idea do you have now, Great Leader Boss sir?" he asked, no visible emotion in his tone.

"The sexual favor."

There was a pause. Peter spoke. "You are sure of this?"

"Of course. It seems perfect." God Emperor Khan said, beaming at his brilliance.

"Oh yes, of course, Great Leader Boss sir." Peter said quickly. "I was merely considering how the exchange rate would work."

"Oh, that? I'm making all other countries illegal." God Emperor Khan said, suddenly transforming into the Incredible Hulk. "I SMASH THE COUNTRIES! I SMASH! THEY BAN ME!? I SMASH THEM ALL!"

Peter sighed. "Dear?" he said.

"TELL STUPID CLERK MAN!"

"Shut the fuck up and realize that's not going to happen." replied Peter, who was now a pretty Asian looking woman. "You were banned from the NationStates forums for three days. That's no reason to try to establish your own third world state in California." she said.

Nightkill froze and realized he had ripped his shirt apart while excitedly explaining his semi-sober rant on how he would get revenge on Max Barry and the mods. "Err...sorry about that, dear. Just got a bit overexcited." he said.

Aliana sighed. "You can use up some of that overexcitement with your new currency. I'm eager to see the exchange rate." she winked, and went back inside.

Nightkill laughed, and then he glanced across the street. Some vendor was selling sweatshirts. Nightkill realized his own were rather worn out by now.

He put on a shirt, jogged outside, and started talking to the boy selling them. "Damn good shirts." the kid said. "Damn good. Imported them from Batshitistan."

Nightkill froze. "Pardon?"

"Oh yeah. Leader's a bit nuts, but they make good shirts."

Nightkill shook his head. Just a damn coincidence. "Alright," he said, pulling out his wallet. "How much does one cost?"

"Dude, your money isn't good for these. I only accept paper airplanes."

I'm not sure I'd call that great literature, but the line about the 14 year-old boys made me laugh.

by **Nationstatelandsville** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:48 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I'm confident my story will get me a 9001/100.

Don't flatter yourself.

9000/100, tops.

by **Manahakatouki** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:49 pm

Conserative Morality wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I'm confident my story will get me a 9001/100.

I'm confident my story will get a 900/100.

A million/100 seems a little low, but I don't want to raise my hopes...

Just in case...

by **Nightkill the Emperor** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:49 pm

The Weimar Republic wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
There was a knock on the door of God Emperor Khan, who was currently snoring in his bed, a dazzling redhead to his left, and a dazzling blonde to his right. Picture this happy scene. Picture it well. I'm sure you're currently enjoying this vision.

I'll now inform you that the blonde and redhead are fourteen year old boys.

Anyway, the knocking was growing insufferable, so he shook himself awake, and the dark Indian man started stumbling to the door in his rather skimpy clothing, which means non-existent. He opened the door, and his assistant, Peter Davis, who was looking rather anxious. "Great Leader!" he began.

"What? Are the population skimping out on their daily prayers to me?" Khan asked, putting on some actual clothes, and grabbing his royal specter, otherwise known as a pimp cane. He also put on a great fedora. He praised himself on rocking the fedora. He also rocked a badass tux, which is what he wore.

"No, Great Leader Boss! They're actually gathering outside your castle, and they're protesting!" Peter said. "Great Leader Boss, you could have a serious issue here!"

Khan turned around, and smiled. "I have it handled." he said. He started walking on the balcony of his newly created castle, looked out to the screaming crowds, and then he grabbed a nearby microphone Peter provided from somewhere.

"OK, guys." Khan said, raising his hand. "I know times are tough. Shit's real bad. People are starving in the streets. But open your eyes. I see your eyes are open. Wear no disguise for me, and just come out into the open. When it's cold outside, am I here in vain? Hold onto the night, there will be no shame. Always, I want to be with you. And make believe with you. And live in harmony harmony, oh love. And we're not strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I. A full commitment's what I'm thinking of. You wouldn't get this from any other guy. I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling, cause I gotta make you understand."

"Cause I ain't never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. I ain't never gonna run around and desert you." he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching but you're too shy to say it. Inside we both know what's been going on. We know the game and we're gonna play it. And if you ask me how I'm feeling, don't tell me you're too blind to see I ain't never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down. I ain't never gonna run around and desert you. And that's a promise." he said.

The crowd was silent for a month, but the protesters began yelling again. Khan sighed. "No reasoning with some people. Peter, order for them to all be shot, will you? And send the heads to the families as a reminder. Then make sweatshirts out of their skin. I do love our sweatshirts. Keeps one warm in the winter."

Peter saluted. "Yessir, Great Leader Boss, sir!"

Khan went back to enjoying himself and satisfying his needs.

After a few hours, God Emperor Khan ate breakfast. This was innocent enough. He ate Honey Nut Cheerios, which was quite insidious. Nothing screams pure evil like reduced blood pressure. He also watched TV. This was nice.

The TV showed the live process of the protesters being gassed with a substance that drove them bloodthirsty and quite insane. Batshitistan could not afford traitors. God Emperor Khan thought while happily watching a man rip out another man's neck with his teeth. "Delightful, don't you think?" he asked Peter, who was obediently holding the TV remote for him.

Peter had no facial reaction. "I'm not paid to think, Great Leader Boss sir." he said, watching the screen.

God Emperor Khan smiled. "Glad you understand that. I will be changing the currency, actually."

"Oh? That'll be the third time this week then." Peter said. "The Batshitistani government using cow manure as currency always seemed odd. I'm glad you replaced it with paper airplanes. What idea do you have now, Great Leader Boss sir?" he asked, no visible emotion in his tone.

"The sexual favor."

There was a pause. Peter spoke. "You are sure of this?"

"Of course. It seems perfect." God Emperor Khan said, beaming at his brilliance.

"Oh yes, of course, Great Leader Boss sir." Peter said quickly. "I was merely considering how the exchange rate would work."

"Oh, that? I'm making all other countries illegal." God Emperor Khan said, suddenly transforming into the Incredible Hulk. "I SMASH THE COUNTRIES! I SMASH! THEY BAN ME!? I SMASH THEM ALL!"

Peter sighed. "Dear?" he said.

"TELL STUPID CLERK MAN!"

"Shut the fuck up and realize that's not going to happen." replied Peter, who was now a pretty Asian looking woman. "You were banned from the NationStates forums for three days. That's no reason to try to establish your own third world state in California." she said.

Nightkill froze and realized he had ripped his shirt apart while excitedly explaining his semi-sober rant on how he would get revenge on Max Barry and the mods. "Err...sorry about that, dear. Just got a bit overexcited." he said.

Aliana sighed. "You can use up some of that overexcitement with your new currency. I'm eager to see the exchange rate." she winked, and went back inside.

Nightkill laughed, and then he glanced across the street. Some vendor was selling sweatshirts. Nightkill realized his own were rather worn out by now.

He put on a shirt, jogged outside, and started talking to the boy selling them. "Damn good shirts." the kid said. "Damn good. Imported them from Batshitistan."

Nightkill froze. "Pardon?"

"Oh yeah. Leader's a bit nuts, but they make good shirts."

Nightkill shook his head. Just a damn coincidence. "Alright," he said, pulling out his wallet. "How much does one cost?"

"Dude, your money isn't good for these. I only accept paper airplanes."

I'm not sure I'd call that great literature, but the line about the 14 year-old boys made me laugh.

Not supposed to be great literature, just supposed to work as a submission.

by **Nightkill the Emperor** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:50 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I'm confident my story will get me a 9001/100.

Don't flatter yourself.

9000/100, tops.

I'll accept that.

Conserative Morality wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I'm confident my story will get me a 9001/100.

I'm confident my story will get a 900/100.

I'll drink Coke to that.

by **The Weimar Republic** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 10:52 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
The Weimar Republic wrote:
I'm not sure I'd call that great literature, but the line about the 14 year-old boys made me laugh.

Not supposed to be great literature, just supposed to work as a submission.

I think your flag adds to its effectiveness.

by **Buffett and Colbert** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 11:07 pm

Conserative Morality wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:I'm confident my story will get me a 9001/100.

I'm confident my story will get a 900/100.

i c wat u did thar

by **Norstal** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 11:09 pm

Yesopalitha wrote:Here is my short story:

BEWARE.

It was never meant to be like this.

No, rephrase that, it was never supposed to be like this. There. “Supposed” sounds better than “Meant”. It is a lot less subtle, leaves things for imagination. Wait. Does it? Damn, I’m getting confused. Anyway, back to the case at hand.

It was never supposed to be like this.

I can’t promise you that I’ll be able to write without going through those lapses again. But I’ll try. Let’s see exactly how much my brain can handle these days. Who knows? Maybe I’ll actually be able to write something worth reading.

What my name is isn’t important to you. Where I live, what I like… That’s all just worthless junk. What matters is what I have to say to you. To all of you, yep, every single breathing person on this piece of rock that people call a planet. Why? Don’t ask questions. Why isn’t important. Just shut up and listen already.

There are people like me around you every day. Maybe they’re not as far along as I am. But we do exist. You wouldn’t know who they were even if I told you. Heck, you wouldn’t believe me if I did tell you. And they would never tell you themselves. For the same reason I am writing in anonymity right now. Because… No, because isn’t important. Just listen.

I wake up. Another supposed night of stupid rest. Or, rest, it’s supposed to be. But no. There is never rest for me. My nightmares haunt me. Who I am in my dreams haunt me. Who am I in my dreams? Didn’t I ask you to stop asking me questions? Anyway. I’ll explain later.

There was once a family living with me. They had hoped that I’d get better. Hope is such a fleeting thing. It lies. It survives… but eventually, even it can’t last forever. They thought it was temporary. They thought they could reach me. They didn’t want me to feel alone. But, I am never alone. Never.

I have toast for breakfast. Always white, never wheat. Peanut butter and honey. OJ to go along with it. I eat. Why? Cause I must. I still require sustenance… Enough to stay alive. Although why I am staying alive is even beyond me.

I used to go to school. I enjoyed learning. People like me. I had friends. I used to laugh, have fun, and enjoy life. But that was all before. And now I’m living in the after. Do my friends even know if I exist anymore? I don’t know. Who cares? It doesn’t really matter. I’m never alone.

For the same reason I keep myself fed, I choose to go on the treadmill. 8 miles, 1 hour. Why I choose to keep physically fit is also a mystery. But I do. Because He wishes it.
Books used to be my friends. I would spend hours reading a good one. Just savoring every word. Now, I don’t need books. He knows everything. Or He says He does. And I have no choice but to believe Him. You see, I’m never alone. Never.

I still remember the day my life changed. The day He came into me. Or maybe, the day I lost. It was just a normal day in my life. I woke up, showered, dressed, had breakfast, even kissed my mom good-bye as I left to drive to school. Got there, had class, had lunch, finished school, and was on my way home, when IT happened.

What IT was, I don’t know. Even He claims He doesn’t know. And I can’t tell if He is lying. All I know is, I had Him in me. And my life was never the same.
I remember coming back home. Walking up the front steps. Wait, was I walking? I remember just getting to the front door. Opening it. Then, there’s a massive blackout.

The next thing I remember, I’m holding a gun, and there’s blood everywhere. I’m in the living room. The stench of blood is nauseating. There’s someone screaming at me. I can’t hear the words – my ears are still ringing from the gunshot. I look down, shocked. There’s the body of my little sister – my little angelic sister – riddled with three bullets. Her lifeless eyes look back at me, her mouth open into one last scream.

I turn around, and although my hearing is still lost, I can read my mom’s lips.

"What the hell have you done? What’s wrong with you?" There’s tears running down her face, and she’s crying, screaming, crying, screaming…

Just shoot her and make her shut up.

What?

You heard me. Shoot the b**ch and make her shut up.

Who the hell are you?

Just listen to me, you little f***ing boy. Shoot her. Do it.

No. She’s my mother.

You already killed your sister. That’s why she’s screaming at you. Don’t you get it?

No. Can’t be. No!!

Let me show you who you can be.

My arm moves of its own accord. It moves up, and I see myself raise the gun, with a smile on my lips. No, I am not seeing myself – I am doing it – I raise the gun, with a smile on my lips.

"What are you doing? What’s wrong, my son? Why are you doing this? Just stop! You already killed your sister. Just stop!"

Watch. Learn. This is just the first of many.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

I recoil at the sound of the shots. I hear myself laugh. No, I am laughing. She hits the ground, screaming, tears rolling down her face…

"I love you."

She closes her eyes.

What just happened? Why did I just do that? Who are you?

I am your destiny. I will show you who you can be. Learn, boy.

No! Get away! I don’t want you! I don’t need you!

You’ve now murdered two innocent people. And you won’t stop there. Stop being such a weak f**cking boy. Now.

Go AWAY!!

You can’t get rid of me. You see, you are me. Or I am you. We are one.

No!

Now, let’s wait and leave a surprise for your old man, shall we?

I am in shock. Well, I am. He sure isn’t. He is moving my body as if it is His own… Because well, it is His own. Then I feel a sharp pain, and black out again.

Wake up, boy! It’s showtime!

I open my eyes. Are they mine? It doesn’t matter anymore. He is me, and I am Him. But we are still different.

The smell of gasoline is in the air – gallons and gallons and gallons of that stuff. Ew. Um..

Can you tell?

You’re going to burn my house?

Not me, you.

No!

Then, I hear a sound. It’s my dad’s truck coming from work.

Why hasn’t anyone heard the gunshots? Why aren’t the police here?

There’s no one to report to them.

What?

Our neighbors. Only eight in total. They so trusted us. And they got what they deserved – a knife blade.

No! You’re lying!

You know it is so.

Now I think of it, I do remember… but it is as if I am seeing it from a dream. I see myself laughing as I slash their throats. Blood everywhere. I force myself to stop remembering.

I won’t let you get away with this.

Haha. I am you now. You are me. There is no separation. We are together, forever.

I try to fight Him off. To try to get my body back. But I can’t. All I want in that moment is to kill myself, but I can’t.

I hear footsteps. It is my Dad. He walks up…

"Hey, son! How was your day?"

“Fine, Dad, just fine,” I hear myself say.

He walks in. Sees the gasoline. Stares.

"What’s going on here?"

“You’ll see.”

He sees the dead bodies, the blood. The gasoline. Then he looks up and sees my gun, pointed straight at him.

"What! Oh no! No! Angela! No! Joyce! Son, why have you done this? All we have ever tried to do is love you. Why?"

“You will never understand, old man.”

"You need help. Lots of help. But you don’t have to do this… Let me help you."

“You can’t help me, old man.”

"All we’ve wished for you is a better future. Was it too much for you, the pressure? The stress? Why?"

“Just shut up! And die!”

Then, he pulls out his gun. I’d forgotten. My Dad always carries a gun around…

"You see? I’ve handled this a lot longer than you have. I know how to use it."

“You wanna test that theory?”

The truth is, if it came down to it, he would shoot me before I actually had a chance. My Dad was in the military for 20 years, and he had been there during Desert Storm. He had obtained two Purple Hearts and one Medal of Honor. He was a good shot.

"I don’t know what’s happened to you. But I’m not mad at you. No, I’m just shocked… and sad. Why did you kill your mother and sister? Why? What’s going on? Just talk to me, son… and lower your gun."

My Dad cannot understand that at that very moment, lowering the gun is exactly what I want to do. But I can’t. Because He is in control. All I can do is just watch.

Observe, boy, what is the downfall of humanity.

What? I don’t understand.

But you will.

"Let’s just put down the guns and talk. You need help. You’ve caused a lot of pain today… I can’t believe what you’ve done. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re family… and I still love you."

Hear that? He still loves you. After you killed his wife and his daughter. Pfft. Love. Stupid love. It will be humanity’s downfall.

"Ok? Let’s just put down the guns. See? I’m going to do it first. Ok?"

"No, Dad. You should just shoot me when you have the chance. To stop this evil. To end it. End it now!"

But he won’t. Because of love. Stupid love.

My Dad is actually going to lower the gun.

“You’ll never get through to your Son, old man. All that is left is me,” my mouth speaks.

"Whatever’s happened, I can help you. Let me help you. Let me love you."

My Dad has never been this open with his feelings before. This is new… and, it might be the last words that he says.

With a flick of his wrist, he sends his gun to the floor. CLANG! And with that sound, I am terrified.

No! No! Pick it back up!

Stupid love. He had a chance to kill me, but he didn’t… because of you. And now, he will pay the price.

“Your son is gone,” I hear my mouth say.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

My Dad’s body hits the floor…

NO!!!!!!!!!!

And now, to burn up your past…

I see my body pick up a lighter off of the counter. I see myself walk to the front door. No, I walk to the front door. As I leave it, I throw the lighter to the ground. It ignites. The house burns.

I walk to my car, carrying my parents’ money. He, no, I, start the car. And we drive off.

You might be telling yourself, this is complete b.s.. There is no way that there are people like me among you. You might be thinking that I am telling a lie. But I am not. Because if there’s one thing that He has told me, it’s that there are millions of Him, waiting in people, waiting for that one moment to snap in control.

You might start to try to figure out who the potential mes are. But you won’t find them. You can’t. All you can know is that they are out there.

Who am I in my dreams? I have figured that I am who I am in my dreams. My dreams are reality.

Because you see, He and I are one. I am Him, He is me. And now, we have found a little place to live. For the time being, until we finish planning. And when we finish planning, we will strike. For He is on earth to kill and destroy – and the first thing that he destroyed was my life.

Wait, He is me. So, we destroyed my life. Wait…

Beware. For He is coming. I am coming. And wherever we come, there will be death and destruction. And the more that wake like me, the more destruction there will be. Till the end of time.

And the whole time, I will be shouting, Why, why didn’t Dad just pull the trigger?! Why?

Because, you f**king boy, he loved you. It was love.

Beware.

Disclaimer: correct me if I'm wrong on the summary.

Summary: The narrator is distraught of something. He tells the audience that what he was about to say was completely true. He could not explain the phenomenon that he experienced and he chooses to remain anonymous. he explained that he had a normal life before whatever it was happened to him. Then, as if someone had possessed him, he murdered his sister with a gun first. He still didn't know what led him to do that, but he did it. Then, whoever possessed him, drove his body to kill his mom next. After that, the whole neighborhood was killed in order to eliminate any witnesses. When his dad came home, he had an emotional confrontation with him. In the end however, the possessor won. It won because his father was too weak to resist his love for him. All in all, the narrator and the "it" that posses him roams the world, exploiting the human emotion called love.

Characters - 21/25
Pretty good description of the characters. I do like how the narrator is very lifelike. I can feel the emotions that he has seeping through from the story. Your choice to hide the character's identity is essential to the story, so I commend you on keeping his anonymity. It really reminds me of one of Poe's works. You can even say this is a modern Poe.

In fact, one can argue that "It" doesn't really exist. It might be that the narrator is schizophrenic. Perhaps this what serial killers felt when they go into a killing spree. However, I do think that the dialogue is a bit cliched. I mean, I just don't think that his dad would forgive him so easily AND be ready to kill him if he loves him.

Plot - 23/25
I really, really liked your efforts to keep the suspense flowing. I can identify the exposition, the climax, etc. and it's pretty good. I don't think I had any problem with it actually. I'm not too sure what the other guy said about it being "one-note". I thought it flowed pretty well actually. Although, I can understand that his sister getting shot might give too much tension, but that's just your style of writing.

Setting - 11/15
I think that you can give it a bit more "oomph". Maybe describe what the neighborhood looks like for them to not have heard...6(?) gunshots? And to quickly kill so many people in what seems like a small time span, but, all of these are forgivable because you are trying to show that the narrator had vivid memory.

Creativity - 13/15
You were creative in making both the audience and the narrator to be involved in the story. So, it's good.

Style - 14/15
Really nice structure. Good use of bold characters to identify "It".

Grammar/Spelling - 4/5
Some tense errors. I bolded some of it with blue.

by **Norstal** » Sat Dec 31, 2011 11:11 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Conserative Morality wrote:Is Yoite a good cop?

I can't imagine Yoite being anything but.

For the records, I'm not a cop.

I'm a SWAT. *nods*

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