Mobileread Anthology

[DixieGal]

I have my story in my head. Unfortunately, only page 1 has been written. What's the deadline?

[ficbot]

I sent mine in just now I am pleased with how it turned out. I just hope we get enough submissions so that it will go ahead...

[DixieGal]

Originally Posted by ficbot

I sent mine in just now I am pleased with how it turned out. I just hope we get enough submissions so that it will go ahead...

What are you doing, trying to make us procrastinators look bad? Uh, I mean "Congratulations!"

[DixieGal]

If we don't get something based on "Murders in the Rue Morgue" from Marc and Adrian, well, I think a rare opportunity will have been missed.

[jaxx6166]

Originally Posted by DixieGal

I have my story in my head. Unfortunately, only page 1 has been written. What's the deadline?

April 10. Still plenty of time.

I've already had more success with this new thread posting than the previous topic (Read: Am is now interested!)

I'm working on mine right now. At around 350 words. It's mostly a tribute to the Raven, but there are shades of all of Poe's other works in there. I'm doing it with free writing. So, we'll see how this turns out. =)

[jaxx6166]

Originally Posted by DixieGal

If we don't get something based on "Murders in the Rue Morgue" from Marc and Adrian, well, I think a rare opportunity will have been missed.

Agree. Dixie, your job is to kidnap them at gunpoint and bring them into the thread.

[jaxx6166]

And I'm done with one. 871 words. Not too shabby for something I'm not too good at.

I know, I know...I said I'd sit it out. But, I can't approve my own work. So, you guys can approve it for me :P

Dixie, you didn't finish your story yet? You "queried" me back on 01/23 - - you really are procrastinating

[jaxx6166]

Well, here's the dreck I came up with. You guys think we should include it? (It's okay to say no)

It clocks in at 871 words and will be spoiler tagged for those that don't want to read it.

The Raven's Game

Spoiler:

It was around three in the morning when I was aroused by a most unpleasant sound. Somewhere off in the core regions of South Town, a shriek most terrible and foul. Not unlike the shriek of the beasts that fly above the bubbles of this world. Moreso, it was a cry of pain. Of terror. A woman’s cry, a prayer for mercy.

And then silence.

To which the world returned once more. And I dreamed in gray.
So, when several hours passed and I was awakened once more to a knock on the door, a gentle tapping, if you will; I knew what would be waiting. Waiting at my chamber door. It was Raven, the bastard. A bitter friend, an enemy of old. He spoke, but I paid no heed. I knew the answer that he would need.

And so, yes, I said to him.

We walked a while, he and I. Through streets of dust and debris, past mountains, past towers, through canyon and crater. Neither of us speaking, not one word, not one sound. For voices were not needed in the land of the dead. It had been six months on this rock. Six months too long. Six more before the drop ships would come again. 12 months. 12 months in this, this hole.

A prisoner of the Colony.

I must say that it could have been much worse. They could have left me there. Down there. The green blue rock of death and decay. Where being a prisoner was being in prison. Here, I could be free. Or would be free, yes. Would be free. If not for him. The Raven. Always there, always calling.

Always calling to me.

But, I must help him. For her, for Lenore. My love. Her blood on my hands. In this land of solitary confinement, I live out a life worse than death. But there are things darker than death. Darker here, indeed.

I tire of the gore. I tire of the same viciousness I see in man. Their images reflect in my eyes and I am numb. They are like me, the me I left behind.
Behind me, on that rock.

The Raven nodded at me. Sir Edgar do you know? Can you help? He asked.
They say I’m the best. If I wasn’t so twisted, so little of a man, I could have been something. Been someone. A hero. But here I am. It would be dangerous. For him, for us. With hope in his eyes, I agreed to his task.
The Raven smiled his twisted little smile. He steepled his fingers, told me I’d done good, passed my trial.

His mansion was a crumbling, rambling mess of tortured towers, the engineer’s nightmare. Rotting wood fell in heaps, raining down from up above. Many years it had been since I saw him last. He ushered at my wedding. A friend, truly, to the very end.

He tried. Oh, how he tried. We had become distant. He was lost, somewhere in my past. We spoke once, maybe twice since then. But when a man kills a man, and then a second. Or a third. People begin to distrust, to dislike. And so the letters stopped. And now here he was. Laying there. Still and cold.

And at that moment, I felt old.

It was odd to see him, cast about like that. Hard and black. Bloated. He was known to be sick. But, not like this. We were to live forever, so it should have been. I killed for him, year upon year. How many had it been? Four? Maybe five. I gave them all to him, alive. Hearts still beating, for his life to be fleeting.

The transplant. The surgery. Them for him. But not him.

No, not him.

There, like Lenore.

It hurt. The pain, the sights. All to his heart, it tore.

Raven stood there for a moment, lost in time. Counting the minutes, the seconds, the hours that pass. Finally, he spoke. His words like poison, so
simple. Just one. And only one. “Who?”

Who? Of course. The answer, so simple.

You.

But why, what to gain? Fame?

No.

Pain, yes. This ugly mess.

The holes were there, in his head and chest. The cuts went deep, wicked carvings. Names, shapes, figures and forms. The lines told his story. The wounds were too precise. They did not drip or drain. Dark and deep, he saw his name. Saw his face. Carved there, in the man.

The man he knew.

Holes. Two. Circular and small, he turned the body, didn’t want to see the face. Bullets. From a gun.

The gun he had. The Raven.

The bastard, his friend.

My sister was one. The Raven said.

The first? I knew.

You are here for me. The Raven held the gun.

It stuck him in the chest, muzzle flashed and there was a sound.

Like crashing glass, the tearing flesh.

Then black and white.

And there was the usher, waving him in.

Lenore. His wife, his sin.

She smiled, teeth of white and flashing sky.

His body fell, his spirit went high.

Laughing then was the Raven.

As my body fell the floor.

And I heard the calling.

Nevermore.

[dadioflex]

Edit.

[jaxx6166]

Okay. Do you want me to go ahead and keep the one you already sent me in addition to what you are working on now or disregard the older submission?

[dadioflex]

Edit.

[ficbot]

So, did you get mine? I was not sure about the email since you only hinted about what it was, and you never replied to my submission...

[jaxx6166]

Ficbot,

I got it in both my PM and my email

Dadio,

I deleted your old email. Look forward to the new one.

[ShortNCuddlyAm]

Just pausing to check the preferred word count. Think I'm likely to come in at around the 1500 mark, unless I get carried away.

[jaxx6166]

I'd be okay with that.

The word count is "Up to 10,000"

So far, I'm really excited and proud of the amount of submissions coming in so soon.