25 Responses to “September’s Contest: Strange 1st Encounter”

1. Ann Aguirre Posted: Sep 2nd, 2007 at 8:57 am

   1 Dang, that’s awesome! I wish I could win.

2. Darragha Posted: Sep 2nd, 2007 at 5:36 pm

   2 I’ve tried to post my entry three or four times now and it hasn’t shown up! Bammie, are you moderating your posts?

3. bam Posted: Sep 2nd, 2007 at 6:28 pm

   3 Author Comment Darragha, there’s no comments in moderation, dude. Try again.

4. Shiloh Posted: Sep 3rd, 2007 at 6:14 am

   4 :OP Mine is in the 300 range… When he walked in, everything went still. The wild, tribal beat of the drums, the press of people on the dance floor and the rainbow of flashing lights, all of it faded away. The man moved with a lazy, almost feline grace and he had a faint smile on his lips. Blood pounded in Casey’s ears as she watched him saunter a little further into the club. She hadn’t seen him there before-she would have remembered. It wasn’t that he was the hottest guy she’d ever seen. Oh, he was plenty hot. He had dark hair that fell loose around his face to his shoulders–long hair, not her thing on a guy. But on him? Oh yeah. He had a rich gold cast to his skin and his mouth looked very biteable. It wasn’t his looks though-it was the intensity that shimmered in the air around him like fog. He was looking for trouble. From this distance, she couldn’t see his eyes and she was thankful for that as his gaze slid right past her. Something told her that if she was close enough to really see his eyes, the intensity of it would burn her to the bone. When he passed by her, he was close enough that she could have reached out and touched his bare arm. If she was brave enough. Or stupid, she amended. Although nobody seemed as acutely aware of him as Casey was, none of them were in any hurry to mess with the guy. Everybody fell back from him as he passed, like some invisble shield surrounded him. His gaze touched on somebody just behind Casey and her blood froze. Something flashed on his face, there and then gone, but she’d seen it. His smile widened just a little before his features went smooth and blank. The grinning mask of death. Suddenly, that phrase made a lot of sense to her.

5. Samantha Posted: Sep 3rd, 2007 at 10:45 am

   5 300 on the dot - I had to cut 150 words. Boo-hoo . *** Snake McClintock, long, lean, and mean. He was probably actually a pussycat. She stared at his ludicrous leathers and prodigious weaponry. He looked like an 80’s movie reject. Flat and outdated. Of course, images on movie posters usually were flat. She backed away, lest someone think she wanted to see “Snake Rides Again”, toward the lure of popcorn and massive sodas. The lobby was nearly deserted. She carelessly turned to make her selections with Glen, the concession boy, and bumped into something solid. “Oh! I’m sorry…” Her words died in her throat. He looked harmless, just a guy in a jean jacket with dark hair, but he didn’t respond with normal politeness in kind. He just stared. The lights of the box office behind cast an oddly dark halo around him in the dim lobby. She strained to see his features more clearly, but her eyes watered and his face seemed to blur into regular, pleasant lines. She’d been spending too much time watching shapes drift across a screen in dark theaters, instead of sleeping. “Sorry,” she said again and walked to the concession stand. She hunched her shoulders, shivering from the warm, but disturbingly lingering aura of contact. She brushed at it like a spider web, following him with her eyes. He turned down the hall where the movie she had come to see was showing. She got a chocolate bar and a small drink instead of the normal gut/bladder buster combo and walked into the theater. She scanned the darkness and sparse population. He wasn’t there. She breathed a sigh of relief and slid into the cocoon of her seat, leaning back to watch the previews. One shadow divided itself from the rest and slipped unseen into the seat at the end of her aisle.

6. Darragha Posted: Sep 3rd, 2007 at 11:23 am

   6 He was the most desirable man in the city. Not because of his stellar good looks. Not because he had money and other valuable assets at his disposal. It was his job. He had, all at once, the most sought-after and most dangerous job in existence. A soldier? Call to glory and fights for freedom? No. A healer? Bring to life that which was dead? No. A teacher, imparting wisdom to the masses? No. He, this rather froggish little bespectacled man had been appointed as the Guardian of Cravings. Balding, a slight paunch around his belly and teeth in need of a good cleaning—he was, truly, the most desirable man in the city. The city of Women. A Guardianship appointment was for life. And sometimes, that life could be cut rather short. His predecessor had lived only two cycles before succumbing to the plague of women beating down his door. He communed with the cycle of the moon and the cycles of the women of the city. He knew when to hide and keep his doors bolted. He knew when it was safe to venture out. A thousand kisses breezed his way whenever he went to the market. He was as sweet as honey and as dangerous as the hive, this Guardian of Moon Pull Cravings. For he was the only man in the city. The only penis of flesh. The only sperm donor. The only confectionary. And the only person who knew where the chocolate was stashed. And in a city of a thousand women sharing one female cycle, war could break out over where the chocolate was hidden. Dark, dangerous, rich, hot, sweet and spicy. The Moon Pull Cravings Guardian. The happiest man on earth.

7. Shannon Posted: Sep 3rd, 2007 at 11:46 am

   7 320, after cutting it down from 480. —- A light tap jerked Amy’s attention away from her growing rage at what was clearly her tampered with, refusing to start car. She turned, ready to rip into whoever it was…and stared. White-blond hair in casual disarray, strands falling across a disturbingly ageless face marked only by a thin scar dragging across his cheekbone. Luscious lips were curved into a faint smile, and the look in his unusually dark eyes was taunting. Daring her to do something. Not that she would. She listened to her instincts, and she didn’t need the long look to know that for all his slender build, this man was more than capable of doing anything he wanted. It was the way he leaned against her car, arms crossed, head cocked, poised and still, a snake about to strike, clinging to the shadows even in the lights overhead. Against her better judgment she stared. Because everything about him seemed to invite it, even as a subtle something told her to run. Long legs crossed in front of him, encased in tight jeans that she couldn’t resist following up with her eyes, her breath catching when she hit just below that low waistband. The sheen of the knife there sparked her recognition. Amy tried to look for an escape, but all she could see was him as he slowly uncoiled, overwhelming her senses as he stepped toward her, adrenaline heating her body as cool fingers brushed over her skin. “I know you.” Her voice trembled, faded. “You’re…” “I wish,” He sighed, more beautiful than the police sketch had been able to capture. “I wish that you didn’t.” His voice wrapped around her, hands clamping down, moving faster than she could react, pinning her to the hard length of his body. “I really hoped it could be different.” One hand fastened her mouth closed. Then she was being dragged into the shadows in the arms of a killer.

8. SweetNSourGirl Posted: Sep 3rd, 2007 at 6:28 pm

   8 Exactly 300 words. I might expand this to a whole story later. For your reading pleasure: “Twenty four hours to go,” I muttered under my breath ignoring the chill settling in my bones. I had better things to do than to find an ex-con. Like sleeping. Sleep sounded good. My eye lids drooped. Snow fell lightly onto the rooftop like powdered sugar on good French toast. “Stop it,” I ordered myself. Waiting did things to your mind. A light flickered on, ex-con Malcolm Davis was home. Springing into action, I jumped onto the fire escape, my aching muscles moving on their own accord. Before I could stop myself, I tried the door. It swung open silently. Mimicking this quiet, I pulled out my gun and stepped into the lavish apartment. “You can stop right there,” a molasses like voice said behind me. “I know you’ve been watching me. Can’t help yourself, can you?” I turned around, stunned. My heart hammered in my rib cage. My eyes practically popped out of their sockets. I’d memorized the profile, but Malcolm Davis was more stunning in person: tall, dark haired and grey eyed with a scar across his cheek. There was an aura of danger that surrounded him like a second skin. Somehow, my voice kept as cool as the frost outside. “If you know I’ve been watching you, why’d you give yourself away?” His grey eyes darkened. A smile crept over his wide lips. “Curiosity,” he said. “And I very well couldn’t have you freezing to death on a rooftop. Not when you could be here and warm with me.” Shivers trickled down my spine. “That’s pretty cocky of you,” I said. His smile widened. “Interesting choice of words,” Davis said. “Tell me, do you think you can catch me, Julia Mackenzie?” I glared at him. “I’ll do more than that.” He chuckled. “Good. I’m counting on it.”

9. Tumperkin Posted: Sep 4th, 2007 at 3:35 am

   9 Everyone thought that Prudence’s name was exceedingly apt. She was not one to take foolish risks. Even as a child she had been cautious, refusing to climb trees and taking three times as long as anyone else to cross the stepping stones over the river. She was practical. Careful. She was the last woman on earth who would fall prey to a fortune hunter. And the man standing before her was a fortune hunter. Or so her sister-in-law had hissed in her ear as he had approached them. Prudence had covertly watched him as he walked towards her. She had seen that he was tall and slender with fair hair and had thought that he looked like a hero. Really, he should have been in armour. But when Lady Alice introduced them and she finally looked up into his face, she realised how very wrong she had been. He could never be a hero. Not that he was ill-favoured. Quite the opposite. His face was handsome; the symmetry of his features quite perfect. And his eyes were startlingly blue. He looked like an angel - and yet. There was something in his face that gave lie to all that golden perfection. Something that hinted at dissolution, and cruelty. “Will you dance, Lady Prudence?” he asked. His voice was soft and promising. She thought of Satan, tempting Christ. She gave a little nod and stood, placing her hand on his arm, allowing him to escort her to the dancefloor. It was a waltz. He clasped her right hand in his left and drew her towards him, his other hand going about her waist. And then the music began and he twirled her across the floor. “You dance beautifully” he said, conventionally and she looked up, meeting those cobalt eyes again. And then she saw it - the thing that made him so very dangerous. It wasn’t a thing at all. It was a void. She wondered if he had any soul at all.

10. Ann Aguirre Posted: Sep 4th, 2007 at 6:05 am

    10 Oh my goodness. Tumperkin, do you have a newsletter? An email list? Because from your entries on this site, I am dying to read anything you write. I want to know the minute you have a book out. Finish something. I’m begging you.

11. Tumperkin Posted: Sep 4th, 2007 at 10:11 am

    11 I’m trying to finish something. But I could do with a few extra hours on top of the standard 24 hour day.

12. bam Posted: Sep 4th, 2007 at 10:28 am

    12 Author Comment I am convinced that Tumperkin was placed on God’s green earth as my own personal nudge-system to better my mad writing skillz.

13. Bettie Posted: Sep 4th, 2007 at 11:54 am

    13 Tumperkin, please add me to your mailing list, too! “I might expand this to a whole story later.” SweetNSourGirl, go for it! It worked for me. ;o) _______________________________________ Sharp eyes in shadowed faces; rolled up sleeves and crumpled collars—the gamblers stare at Calli as she strides across the Marked Man casino to the tall, black-lacquered door at the back. The one the gamblers call the Devil’s Door. Before Calli can knock, the door opens to reveal an anemic-looking blonde with smudged rouge on her smiling lips and bruises blooming on her arm above the top of her long leather glove. “The new tattooist?” Blondie swings the door wide. “He’s all yours.” Atop the black-lacquered desk, a cigarillo in a crystal ashtray bleeds blue-gray smoke into wavering lamplight. Shadows fill the space around. Calli’s hands tighten on her case when she hears the door close behind her. “Mr. de Sein?” “In the flesh.” His voice is deep as a puncture wound and rough as gravel on bare skin. His hands reach into the light for the cigarillo, revealing sleeves of fine black wool suiting over white French cuffs. And the hands beneath the cuffs—she closes her eyes at the sight of them. Skin pale as death, writ all over in thick black ink; a pattern she can’t follow and doesn’t want to. Ink across wrist and palm, over vein and tendon, beneath buffed fingernails—she imagines the pliers, the knife, peeling them away for the needles. He drums his fingertips on the desk and laughs when she winces. “Squeamish?” She wasn’t, before now. He leans into the light. His face is perfection, vandalized. Like spray paint on white marble. Ink-blackened lips part on white teeth; a beautiful abomination. She can’t look away and she doesn’t want to. “Afraid?” She wasn’t, before now. “You will be.” His words are cool and sure as steel, brushing her skin like the kiss of a needle. Leaving a mark. His mark.

14. Carrie Lofty Posted: Sep 4th, 2007 at 5:25 pm

    14 Three hundred words even. Damn good entries, ladies. Bad boys seem to be a speciality ’round these parts. *** Sticky with beer and sweat, Kara wiped the bar and flicked her attention to the stage. Again. And again. Paul was singing. Shouting, more like. Moaning. Dredging up the guttural pain of a man possessed. His ground-glass voice climbed over her shredded nerves and laid claim. Enraged chords shook the ramshackle club with the violence of a twister. He owned the stage — eyes rimmed red, hair smashed into rowdy clumps, thready highways of veins on his forearms. Wearing a black Stratocaster low over his groin, he pumped the guitar in primal rhythms. A gunslinger. Bang, baby, shot you down. His music pushed wild thoughts into her head: a woman cumming, strangled with her own hair… a chambermaid raped behind a spiraling staircase by the young master of the house… a crying man finding nerve enough to stab his unfaithful lover. Bad choices and choices taken away. Punks, Emos, sorority sisters in their fuck-me pumps — who was listening didn’t matter. He scratched out his heart and handed it to them. Then he punched them in the face. The crazy reverence of his audience made him taller, stronger, more beautiful, wearing their manic applause like a king’s robes. Everyone knew where he’d be in five years — topping the charts, draped in A+ groupies, reclining on a mound of cocaine the size of the brand new Lotus in his eight-car garage. And Kara just happened to be tending bar, having threatened the welfare of her boss’s scrotum to land a shift that night. Idiot. She’d be a Darwin Award nominee to stab herself on a sharp edge like Paul, strapping into a roller coaster with a half-finished track. But she devoured his body with smoke-stung eyes and waited for him to come order a Stella. He always did. Right after the club closed.

15. Bettie Posted: Sep 4th, 2007 at 8:01 pm

    15 Day-um, Carrie! Great piece. )

16. Ann Aguirre Posted: Sep 4th, 2007 at 9:44 pm

    16 That rocked, Carrie. One of the best pieces you’ve written, I swear. You should do something edgy like that.

17. Lorelie Posted: Sep 5th, 2007 at 4:20 am

    17 Seriously Carrie, that was great. And kinda spooky. Were you at the same club I was two weeks ago?

18. Carrie Lofty Posted: Sep 5th, 2007 at 4:49 am

    18 It’s amazing the sick shit a mind can contemplate while watching 4-yos practice tae kwon do.

19. Tiffany Posted: Sep 5th, 2007 at 7:25 pm

    19 Howdy! My entry is 298 - and that was hard!!! Carrie, thanks for letting us know about this contest - I had great fun writing this piece! ~~~ “Hands behind your back!” Sally jerked one of his bare arms roughly backwards, breathing hard after chasing him for the past two blocks. A corner of her mind registered that the arm was very muscular – this guy could give her real problems if he put up a fight. “Alright, now turn around and plant your butt against the wall so I can read your rights.” Amazing. She’d radioed for backup as soon as she’d begun her pursuit. Where were they? As he turned, she felt her heart give an unexpected flutter when she realized that he was beyond gorgeous…he was exquisite. He moved slowly in a half circle, as if realizing hat Sally was admiring his tight body and striking countenance. Pressing his back against the wall as instructed, he raised his smoky eyes to hers and drawled, “Now, officer. What’s the trouble? I’d love to help you find a solution for whatever seems to be the problem, since I’m already so…sweaty.” Caught off guard by his sultry tone, Sally found that she had to force out her next words. “You know why I was chasing you. You have the right to remain silent. You have the right…” Reciting by memory, Sally felt her eyes involuntarily wandering from his faintly smiling mouth to the six pack she could imagine hidden beneath his tank, and then even farther south. “Officer, isn’t there some way we can settle this, just between you and I?” He reached out and brushed her arm, sending delicious shivers down her spine. Glancing around to see if her backup was in sight, her mind raced. Felon. Gorgeous. Off limits. Hot as hell. Coming to a decision, she raised her eyes to her prisoner’s, and murmured, “Well, perhaps there is a way for you to…plea bargain.”

20. kate r Posted: Sep 6th, 2007 at 9:05 am

    20 I love Darragha’s. * * * She didn’t dare raise an alarm so she was locked in the room alone. No, not alone. A man lay asleep on the bed. He wore nothing but pair of ragged trousers. Perhaps he’d been ill for weeks for his tawny hair was too long and he wore a disheveled beard. The man opened his eyes and looked at her with interest but no surprise. “You could be real,” he said conversationally. “You’re quite vivid.” He closed his eyes again. The madman. Florry lay on her stomach to peer under the door. No shadows or movement. She rose and brushed off her knees. “Would you care to play a parlor game?” The man watched her again with blue, too-bright eyes. “You need only answer yes or no.” It wouldn’t do to annoy him. “Fine, sir.” “Will you turn into a god-forsaken snake again?” His well-educated voice, with a hint of amusement, didn’t fit his insane words or appearance. “No, sir.” “Good.” The nearly naked madman sat up. He resembled statues she’d seen except for that light hair across his chest and the line from his flat belly down to the drawstring of the low-slung garment. Good heavens, drawers, not trousers. Stop staring. Her heart raced as he rose slowly to his feet, never taking his eyes away from hers. “They’ve upped the dosage. Bizarrely dressed females materialized out of nothing, nowhere. Or. Are you real?” He moved toward her, less casual now. “I attacked a nurse. Did you know that?” She backed away. “No. Sir.” “She wouldn’t answer my questions. I lost my temper. Now I must put that on.” He pointed. She thought he meant he must wear the bed, until she saw the chain that lay on the floor, one end attached to the heavy bedstead. “You forgot to tell me to chain myself and toss you the key.” He waggled a key at her. “Too late now.”

21. kate r Posted: Sep 6th, 2007 at 9:22 am

    21 actually I love them all. Good idea, Bam.

22. Jambrea Posted: Sep 6th, 2007 at 3:15 pm

    22 Her car shuddered to a stop and started to smoke on a deserted strip of road at 2:00am. Cassie put her forehead on the steering wheel and closed her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Too bad her cell phone was at home on her kitchen table. Now she had to walk and it was a few miles until she reached town. She was only a few feet from her car when she heard the sound of a motorcycle. It started to slow down and then stopped. She was having a hard time getting a good look at the person stepping off the bike. As the person came closer she could tell he was all man. “Oh, my” she whispered to herself, “breathe”. He was so tall with dark hair that flowed around his face. He had a strong jaw with just a hint of a beard. The guy was wearing a t-shirt and his arms looked like they were about to burst out of the shirt. She just couldn’t stop looking at him. His legs looked like they went on forever and the jeans he was wearing fit just right. As he got closer she tried to get a look at his eyes. It was then that she noticed he was staring at her. She blushed realizing she must look like a fool, ogling him. She could feel the heat rolling off of his body and he smelled faintly of musk. She took a deep breath trying to take him in. That was a mistake. She was already having trouble breathing. Then he spoke. His voice was like pure honey and made her tremble. “What…I’m sorry. What did you say?” Cassie finally managed to get out. “Do you need any help?” “Take me.” She mumbled under her breath. A slow grin spread across his face and she almost stopped breathing, again. It was then she realized he had heard her.

23. skyerae Posted: Sep 6th, 2007 at 5:10 pm

    23 302 but I only regret half of my cuts. hah Fun, it was the first time I’ve finished one before the deadline. He was in blue, scrubs that didn’t hide his lean build. He had dark hair and clear blue eyes that noticed everything. They were so bright she had to look. He noticed. His nostrils flared slightly and her pulse jumped. The slight lift of his lips told her he noticed that too. Shit. He wasn’t even looking at her and here she was staring at him and reacting. She turned away, slowly, and told herself it was just surprise, he was very good looking, her guard had slipped. Yeah right. She had looked at him and seen herself, a bigger, stronger, sexy male version of herself. He didn’t look like he had a lot of training. His hair was too long, his jaw shadowed and he leaned against the wall. But he was a natural, he would know her secrets because they were his too. In combat she was also a natural but she had been trained within an inch of her life. “Indrasena!” a trainer called, “you and Gideon. Quarter staff.” She glanced up to the concourse and noticed it was full, too full. He wasn’t Gideon, nobody in blue had ever been tested. Not even her, she’d been born here, had never been new. Picking up her weapon she walked onto the floor. A deep stillness settled over her, allowing her to anticipate and react faster. She had never come up against someone who could do what she did and she had never been beaten. She hoped one had nothing to do with the other. Blue, at the edge of her vision, with a quarter staff in his hands. His stillness mirrored her own. She wavered, and he made his move.

24. Lorelie Posted: Sep 6th, 2007 at 6:20 pm

    24 *Doing the “I’m under word count” dance* —————————- Yeah, so maybe the accident was my fault. In my own defense, who puts a stoplight out in the middle of Podunk, Nowhere? Plus it was 3:26 am and I’d been sitting there waiting for it to turn green since 3:14. I looked left and right but not left again, gunned it, and the next thing I knew I’d spun twice and was facing the opposite direction, looking at a black sports car that suddenly had serious alignment issues. I don’t know much about cars but it looked Italian and expensive, emphasis on ex-freaking-spensive. While I sat there, dazed, a man unfolded himself from the driver’s door and stalked towards me. He wore black slacks and a white button down with the sleeves rolled back. It should have been a boring, white-collar outfit but the lean lines of his thighs pulled against the material and the glowing white of his shirt made his shoulders look about as wide as my entire Civic. My headlights cut his face into a series of sharp planes and dark valleys and only made him more compelling. I wanted to rub my thumb over his full bottom lip. He braced his hands on the roof of my car, and I couldn’t help but stare at his thick forearms and the ropy veins that traced their way under his skin. “Get out of the. Fucking. Car,” he ground out.

25. MadBatLou Posted: Sep 7th, 2007 at 8:56 pm

    25 I love a geek hero. “Nina had never had much use for the geek squad in the basement. When her computer didn’t work, she called, things were done, and everyone went on with their lives. But they had never hired a geek like this one. The new hire stood in her doorway, a faintly amused expression on his face. He was built on the lean, almost elegant proportion, with close-cropped dark hair and a pair of shoulders that reminded her of a swimmer she’d dated in college. She had never liked glasses, but then she noticed the eyes. Good lord. A luminous greenish grey that shouldn’t have been quite so nice, but really was. Her raised a questioning eyebrow at her stare, and the corner of his mouth lifted with a incredulous smile. “Problem?” She stood and straightened her skirt. “Yeah, the payroll program isn’t working.” He walked over to the screen and sat down, moving a stack of her papers out of the way with his elbow. “Look, I’m really in a hurry,” she snapped, “and I’d kind of—“ He stood up, and suddenly she was looking at the hollow in his throat. She had to swallow hard. His voice seemed to move slowly up her spine. “You’re putting special characters in a numbers field.” “Wh-what?” “Characters,” He murmured even more softly, “in a numbers field. Zero through nine I will allow. Maybe even a decimal point. No more.” She cleared her throat. “How do you know that?” He stepped back, and the room seemed far cooler. He smiled. “Because I wrote it. And that’s what the error message says.” At her expression, his grin widened. He sketched a small bow, then swaggered down the hall. “No special characters.” He called over his shoulder. “Remember it.” She realized she had nothing to say.”