Contest [Halloween Special] The Halloween Horror Story

[Pyre 3,485]

 

This is why I actually dont enter writing contests.

[C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R 3,845]

This is why I actually dont enter writing contests.

Is that... a compliment? Lol that was a very vague statement

[Bigbrain235 21]

 

 

 

the stories r soo silly, good job guyss

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Edited November 8, 2018 by Bigbrain235

[C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R 3,845]

Can I submit my story to the AWS for more feedback?

[P.4.R.K.O.U.R 329]

Can I submit my story to the AWS for more feedback?

What about shifting it to the AWS to give us minions a little chance to win?

[LyT 222]

Here is My Entry! 

 

 

                              "THE CHAIR"

 

When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her Mother, because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we’d find a cup that hadn’t been there the night before.

 

Mother had left them there, worried that we’d get thirsty during the Night. She just wanted to take care of us. Among the homes’ original furnishings was an antique wooden chair which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us.

 

Sometimes she’d manage to move it all the way to the Centre of the Room. We always felt Sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted to be near us. Years later, long after we’d moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse’s original occupant, a widow. She’d murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed.

 

Then she hung herself.

[Pyre 3,485]

Is that... a compliment? Lol that was a very vague statement

Backhanded complement  ;) I hope you feel good about ruining everyones chances in these contests

[cryptor 589]

Good luck all particapations!  :)

[C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R 3,845]

I hope you feel good about ruining everyones chances in these contests

Believe me, I do :ph34r:

[C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R 3,845]

(in car, October 31st)

 

WHERE DID THAT SPIDER GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!???????

 

(confused screaming)

I'm also just going to say... this should win a consolation, if not first place 

[Aigaion 636]

I'm also just going to say... this should win a consolation, if not first place 

who are you to judge my amazing skill 0_o

 

:ph34r:

 

[P.4.R.K.O.U.R 329]

who are you to judge my amazing skill 0_o

He is the Conqueror. :ph34r: Edited November 9, 2018 by P.4.R.K.O.U.R

[C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R 3,845]

He is the Conquerer. :ph34r:

ermahgerd the misspell kills me every time

 

Come to think of it, are Guest Writers even allowed to participate :lol:

Edited November 9, 2018 by C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R

[thethiefofvictory 339]

ermahgerd the misspell kills me every time

 

Come to think of it, are Guest Writers even allowed to participate :lol:

Last time i asked, Flex said something like "to be decided". Personally, I say we guests shouldn't be allowed to paticipate.

[Person_Random 4,991]

Argh, mac and google working against me.

[Person_Random 4,991]

The Murder of Flexoo

An exhaustively panicked and rushed written and typed piece by @Person_Random (a murder mystery)

 

On the chilly fall evening of Halloween, various tankers wandered into the Amateur Writer’s Club Headquarters.   Many of them had finished numerous battles and were exhausted, and the news reporters rushed to finish the articles they had procrastinated for the whole month.  Others, mainly the guest writers, discussed future article ideas.

Finally, when the clock hit 6:45, @Hexed called the horde of aspiring writers to order.  “Alright! We can eat now! Let’s go, Flex has a speech to give soon!”

All the news reporters politely rushed to the front of the line and grabbed slices of warm pizza and other side dishes.  As the busy writers quickly came forth to eat, they heard the sound of @kaisdf’s confused query.

“Hey, who put pineapples on the combo pizza?  And where are the other toppings? Ths food is strange-” he piped up, as Hexed glared over, “-but good!” his last comment caught the attention of most of the tankers, who rushed to the front, fighting for the last slices of the delicious food.  Most of the amateur writers followed suit, except @pythor20000 and @Person_Random, who were bickering about the World Series, where the Dodgers had lost for the second year in a row. The two of them were so into the discussions that the famously popular combo pizza was long gone by the time they reached the food tables.

When everyone got served, they quickly walked back to the tables set up and began conversations with the players around them.  Everyone commented that they really enjoyed the combo pizza, which made those who didn’t get a slice jealous.

“This pizza is amazing!  It just has a special flavor I can’t get enough of!” many people commented.

 

"Why yes," stated another reporter on the other side of the table.  "It's got to be the best dish ever created!"

 

Those who hadn't had a taste of this pizza suddenly grew curious and jealous, and then they regretted being polite and not cutting in line.  However, @Vikingsrallentando became a bit nervous, as the most important person wasn’t here yet: @Flexoo, and it was almost time for his speech.

Several people had the same question in their head, but only one asked.  “Where is Flexoo?” wondered @KillerGnat, who took a bite of pizza simultaneously.  As soon as he had ate the food, he gagged and spit out something strange. A bone.

Coughing and choking, he rushed to the trash can and disposed of all his food.  Then screams rang out.

“Gnat! You okay?” asked Lolkiller as he placed a hand on Gnat’s shoulder.  After a few minutes, the fear-stricken complexion slowly began to fade, but a single shaking finger, moving like a metronome to Flight of The bumblebees, pointed to a stained skull.

Most of the people walked over and took a look themselves, then found out that they may have consumed their dear Flexoo.  A reporter waved Hexed to the place.

Hexed walked over and peered into the trash bin, then fished out a wooden pencil, and the other shuddered.  Only one person liked using wooden pencils. Person.

“Hey Person!  Is this pencil yours?”  Hexed asked. Person, who immediately denied it.  Besides, that pencil was sharp, and Person’s stubby worn pencils didn’t match. So that topic was left alone, and they moved on and tried to find Flexoo's body.

Hippin sprang to action.  “Hey Guest writers!” he directed. “Let’s go and find Flexoo!  Hurry!” While @Spy declined, since he was working on a special new article, the rest of the four went out insearch.”

Three returned.

“Where’s thief?” questioned @P.4.R.K.O.U.R.  The others shook their head, and Conq's knuckles whitened as he gripped the skeleton of Flexoo.  

“Murdered” he mouthed, and a hush fell over the crowd.  Suddenly, that hush was replaced by a string of accusations.

But none for thief.  They could not find him, and besides, Flexoo was supposed to be here on time.  That case would be heavily debated at a later time. Besides, everyone was already arguing about who killed Flexoo first.

“@Yisroel.Rabin definitely did it! He even said so in his Dictator piece! I proofread it and brushed it aside as a joke, and look what he did!” proclaimed @LOLKILLERTOTHEDEATH as he started to take a bite of an apple.

 

Yis quickly defended himself. “Wait a second, hold up!” he demanded. “I clearly wrote that @Magenta was the one to dethrone Flexbot! It can’t be me, it’s Magenta.”

 

“Now, now,” announced @kaisdf to the other reporters, “I’m sure it was one of those Guest Writers. Yis says they don’t get paid, so they wanted a higher pay, and @Flexoo never agreed. This time, instead of pleading, they finished him off and plundered him for their paychecks!”

 

@Magenta rose from his seat to defend himself. “It wasn’t me. Look over at @GrandExecutioner and @C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R. They’re always so quiet and harmless, don’t you all think? Well, let me tell you. They’re probably the ones causing the ruckus since they can easily slip back into their aloof states.  Now that I think of it, they may have made it a double kill and finished Thief off while they were at it!”

 

While the guest writers quickly rushed to defend themselves, @Viking4s pointed out that the more fighting they all did, the less likely that the case would ever be solved. “Let’s go through this in a civilized manner, shall we? So let’s start. When was Flexoo last seen?”

“I don’t remember,” many of the reporters began, but soon they determined that Flexoo was in his office working on articles and proofreading.  However, no one remembered where they had seen him last. Instead, everyone decided to fight some more, and Vik's words didn't help at all. It may have made it worse.

Arguments and angry chatter filled the room, Vikingsrall tried to calm everyone down, but they continued to annoy each other and shout accusations.

 

Now the writers began to point towards the Amateur writers, and the heated debate turned into young AWS writers trying to defend themselves against reporters with evil stares.  Person and Thor were being pushed into a corner, almost forced to confess under the glares of the higher level writers.

 

Amidst the angry altercations, @Hexed slammed his clean plate down on the table. “Guys!” he yelled.

 

“I know who did it.”

 

---

 

WHO DID IT?

Edited November 9, 2018 by Person_Random

[Flexoo 6,980]

 

Should I be worried? :unsure:

[thethiefofvictory 339]

Should I be worried? :unsure:

Murdered twice in two months? Oh, of course yes :lol:

 

Anyways. I know who did it.

 

rope dangles over grave

[P.4.R.K.O.U.R 329]

 

I'm not mentioned. *cri*

[Person_Random 4,991]

Should I be worried? :unsure:

Ummm should i really tell u that u were _____________ized?

 

I'm not mentioned. *cri*

 Really?  Sorry bout that lemme add you in.  I think you were mentioned though...

 

 

 

yeh i got u but i was in a rush didn't get ur full name and rank thingy posted

 

 

Edited November 9, 2018 by Person_Random

[C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R 3,845]

Last time i asked, Flex said something like "to be decided". Personally, I say we guests shouldn't be allowed to paticipate.

:mellow: 

[P.4.R.K.O.U.R 329]

 

 

Thanks!

 

If I had been questioned, I would have given the most simple and probable solution:

#BlameTheNS

 

ermahgerd the misspell kills me every time

*Reads this post*

*Dramatic music* (Wait, is that really needed?)

*The door opens and Grammar Nazi Troops march in*

"No! Noo! I did not do anything! That was not my fault! Nooo!

CONQUEROR, YOU WILL PAY DEARLY FOR THIS..."

*Gets dragged into the distance*

[C.O.N.Q.U.E.R.O.R 3,845]

Last time i asked, Flex said something like "to be decided". Personally, I say we guests shouldn't be allowed to paticipate.

Just thought of something; What if each Guest Writer were assigned an area of expertise (e.g. Me, guides, Mag, humour), and we can't compete in that specific category? I see no reason to exclude other contests.

[P.4.R.K.O.U.R 329]

Just thought of something; What if each Guest Writer were assigned an area of expertise (e.g. Me, guides, Mag, humour), and we can't compete in that specific category? I see no reason to exclude other contests.

Guide contests? Humour contests?

[pikachu938 14]

QUEEN ANNE HOTEL

 

Queen Anne Road, situated 10 miles North of San Francisco, is a silent road- so silent that you wont even hear the rustling of leaves. This road is so ghostly that even the bravest of bravest will have a chill running through his spine when he passes through this road. Fourty metres down this road stands the famous Queen Anne Hotel- an old three-storey building that has an eerie and spooky appearance.

One evening, breaking all the silence of Queen Anne road, a sedan came speeding down the road. The car slowed the down in front of a narrow lane and the driver read the signboard,
    "Queen Anne Hotel. Huff! Shelter at last!"
     The driver steered his car down the lane and halted in fornt of Queen Anne Hotel.
The Driver, a big stout man, got down from his car. His name was John Collig. He was an English Bussinessman and he was in America for bussiness purpose. The day was October 30th and John was trying to find a shelter for that night because he had to leave America the next day. John entered the building and he was welcomed by a stranged fellow - the receptionist. he had scars and burnt marks all over his body. John didn't understand anything.
he asked the recptionist.
    "Did you meet with an accident?"
    "No Sir," The receptionist replied.
    "Then what are these marks in your body?"     John questioned again.
    "That's none of your bussiness. Your room is on the second floor.Go and take some rest there."
    Without replying to that harsh response John made his way into the room.
  "Strange. Never saw a fellow a like him." John murmured to himself as he made his way through the corridor.
As he walked throught hte corridor John noticed that there were no doors in any of the rooms. John was horrified at this sight,
    "And they call it a hotel, with no doors?" John finally bursted out.
    "Any help sir." There was a voice from his back.
John turned around to see that there was another fellow at the end of the corridor. The guy approached him. as he came nearer to John, he could notice his body features distinctly. His left habd was cut from the elbow and he walked in a strange manner- as if there was no strength in his legs. Finally the man stood in front of John, who was gazing at the man as if he was some kind of a strange creature. John was shocked when he saw him. Because this man also had scars and burnt marks all over his body! John got his chance to enquire about those typical marks.
    "Did you meet with an accident?" John asked the same question to him.
    "No sir." The man replied.
    "Then what are these marks in you body?''
        "That's none of your bussiness. You should better go to your room and take some rest," the man replied rudely.
        "Yeah thats the problem. I could not find my room. You know it's pretty starnge that your hotel can't afford to buy doors."
        "Our hotel was once on fire. And so this is the condition." He replied to John's criticism.
        "Oh, I see".
   John finally found his room. He went inside, changed his clothes and went to sleep.

At about 11:00 PM, John woke up from his sleep by some kind of noise. He could hear the screams of people. John coudn't figure out what was going on. So he went out of his room to investigate. On getting out of his room, he saw nothing. But, he got a burning smell, which was spread all over the corridor. The smell was so offensive that John could hardly breathe. He went down from his floor to find out what actually was the matter. But he could find nothing. Not even a single human being was around there. John was confused. How could it be possible? He looked for the receptionist and the service boy, but they were not there. John Collig was the only man living in that hotel. No other man was there. No staff, no customers. a chill ran down his spine. He quickly climbed the stairs and went into his room.He was so terrified that he decided to spend the night in the bathroom. John coudn't sleep that night.
         Next morning John packed his bag quickly and hurriedly went to the receptionist's desk. He didn't want to spend another terrifying night in that terrfying hotel. John saw the receptionist and the service boy along with five other people. all of them had the same burnt marks and were physically handicapped. John did not ask anything and went to the receptionist to pay the bill. But the receptionist said.
    "We don't charge our customers Sir."
  John didn't reply to that statement. But he simply went out of the hotel. He turned around and saw that all the seven were giving him a sly look. He quietly got down from his car, started the engine and sped off the dusty lane.
           At the end of the lane John encountered a Sheriff's car. the Sheriff got down and asked John,
            "Hey, where are you coming from Mister?''
            "I' m coming from that hotel. from Queen Anne Hotel. Why are you asking"?
            "What? You are coming from that hotel? Did you stay there?
            "Yeah. I stayed for one night, but what is the matter?''
            "Did you saw any people inside?
            "Yes, I saw seven people inside."
            "Oh no, I think you should better leave now, right now"
            "But why, what is the matter?"
            "The people you met inside are all ghosts!! This hotel caught fire two years ago and its entire staff died in that fire.The local people don't enter it's premises and you have spent one night in that hotel? I am not having a good feeling about it. So, I am advising you to leave right now."
    John's face became pale white. he decide not to wait a moment there. He immediately booked flight tickets to England and Went home.

On reaching home he narrated the whole story to his wife. His wife listened to him and assured him that he was safe now as he was miles away front that haunted hotel. John also thought the same way like his wife.

At night he coudn't sleep. The dreadful thoughts of the hotel and its staff kept him awake.He struggled to sleep and but it was in vain. Finally at midnight he went to sleep.
   Next day it was bright and lovely morning. John was  still asleep. at about nine' his wife came to wake him up. But the moment she touched him she was shocked. John was cold. John's wife checked his heartbeat. It was not there. John was DEAD.

    John's body was sent for post mortem. The results of the post mortem came out . Reason of John Collig's death- 'UNKNOWN'.





 

Edited November 11, 2018 by pikachu938