Winners!!!
| Week 7 Entries: | ||
 | ||
| Selection | Votes | |
| The Heart of a Demon By @jend_author |  60% | 3 |
| Malolactic Hope By @redshirt6 |  20% | 1 |
| The Grapes of Wrath By @MLGammella |  20% | 1 |
| | |
This weeks challenge saw three story entries:
- Jen DeSantis (@JenD_Author) - Blind Challenge
- Robert Hilliard (@redshirt6) - Blind Challenge
- Miranda Gammella (@MLGammella) - Classic Challenge
And three awesome stories too!
Miranda is the automatic winner for the Classic Challenge with this twisted tale of fine wine and inexplicable voices:
The Grapes of Wrath
By Miranda Gammella @MLGammella
By Miranda Gammella @MLGammella
Alana had been known to enjoy a fine bottle of wine from time to time, especially after a hard day. Nothing was harder than moving across the country to Wardville, ME to her grandparents’ old house. After all the boxes were open, the linens changed, and the house aired out, she aired out a bottle or two of her favorite pinot grigio. It did quite a bit to settle her nerves over the move and starting over.
When the voices and the whispering started, she found that a nice cabernet did the trick to drown them out. Somehow, the strange whispers and odd visions didn’t seem quite so scary when she enjoying the aftereffects of malomactic fermentation. Sharper flavored wines were all fine and dandy, but the smoother varieties created an effect she quite enjoyed: when time seemed to stand still.
That’s what made what happened next such a travesty.
Her time of enjoying nothing at all was cut short by the reappearance of the man who had been following her. Now, time seemed to mock her as things seemed to speed up just to slow down. Everything was distorted. The man seemed to rush towards her only to stop. Alana screamed, her voice broken and slurred, as she tried to get up and run or do anything to flee.
It seemed her favorite variety of fermented grape juice was seeking revenge on her. Alana stumbled and tripped, her face covered with tears, yet the man approached. She couldn’t see his face, but the blackness surrounded him and evil trailed in his wake.
Just as his cold yet burning hand caught her arm, she woke. Alana furiously looked down at her arm, only to find a burn in the shape of a handprint right where the man touched her.
When the voices and the whispering started, she found that a nice cabernet did the trick to drown them out. Somehow, the strange whispers and odd visions didn’t seem quite so scary when she enjoying the aftereffects of malomactic fermentation. Sharper flavored wines were all fine and dandy, but the smoother varieties created an effect she quite enjoyed: when time seemed to stand still.
That’s what made what happened next such a travesty.
Her time of enjoying nothing at all was cut short by the reappearance of the man who had been following her. Now, time seemed to mock her as things seemed to speed up just to slow down. Everything was distorted. The man seemed to rush towards her only to stop. Alana screamed, her voice broken and slurred, as she tried to get up and run or do anything to flee.
It seemed her favorite variety of fermented grape juice was seeking revenge on her. Alana stumbled and tripped, her face covered with tears, yet the man approached. She couldn’t see his face, but the blackness surrounded him and evil trailed in his wake.
Just as his cold yet burning hand caught her arm, she woke. Alana furiously looked down at her arm, only to find a burn in the shape of a handprint right where the man touched her.
There were two entries for the Blind Challenge, Robert told a tall of love in a future war torn battle and Jen gave us a look into the heart of a demon. The votes are in and…
The Heart of a Demon
By @jend_author
“Have a seat, demon,” said the tavern keeper.
His eyes traveled over Leteh’s frame, reading his powers. It left Leteh feeling exposed and dirty. He heaved a sigh of disgust at the necessity for this meeting before squeezing his hulking frame into the chair.
“Wine?” the man asked, holding up an ancient bottle.
Leteh shook his head once, a grimace on his face.
“A shame.” The tavern-keeper sneered. “I’m told the malolactic fermentation in this vintage is to die for.”
“I’m sure,” Leteh grumbled, rolling his eyes at the man’s barely hidden innuendo. “Tell me what you know, Vidente.”
“Touche.”
“So you know about us,” the man said, pulling up a chair opposite of Leteh.
The demon nodded, watching as the man lowered himself into the chair awkwardly.
“You can call me Del Cross.” He held out his hand which Leteh ignored. “I know about you.”
“Yes, everyone knows about me and my … sordid history.”
Del chuckled darkly.
“Where’s your witch now, eh?”
Time seemed to stand still as the tavern keeper’s chuckled died and Leteh’s red eyes blazed in anger. Del knew his mistake, and shrank back away from the demon’s rage.
“Tell me what you know. Now.”
His eyes traveled over Leteh’s frame, reading his powers. It left Leteh feeling exposed and dirty. He heaved a sigh of disgust at the necessity for this meeting before squeezing his hulking frame into the chair.
“Wine?” the man asked, holding up an ancient bottle.
Leteh shook his head once, a grimace on his face.
“A shame.” The tavern-keeper sneered. “I’m told the malolactic fermentation in this vintage is to die for.”
“I’m sure,” Leteh grumbled, rolling his eyes at the man’s barely hidden innuendo. “Tell me what you know, Vidente.”
“Touche.”
“So you know about us,” the man said, pulling up a chair opposite of Leteh.
The demon nodded, watching as the man lowered himself into the chair awkwardly.
“You can call me Del Cross.” He held out his hand which Leteh ignored. “I know about you.”
“Yes, everyone knows about me and my … sordid history.”
Del chuckled darkly.
“Where’s your witch now, eh?”
Time seemed to stand still as the tavern keeper’s chuckled died and Leteh’s red eyes blazed in anger. Del knew his mistake, and shrank back away from the demon’s rage.
“Tell me what you know. Now.”
“You’ll have to be more specific than that,” Del insisted, earning a growl from the demon.
“I want details,” Leteh barked. “Who’ve you had contact with? What side are they on? And where will they strike next?”
The old man’s eyes grew hazy as he took in Leteh’s hulking form and fierce voice, but a smile grew on his face unexpectedly.
“You can keep up this travesty of an inquisition,” Del said slyly, “or you can just ask me your real question.”
Leteh’s face blanked for a moment as Del’s smile grew wider.
“Selena,” Del whispered.
Leteh knew he’d won.
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